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#two have drying mint leaves
healingheartdogs · 2 years
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Got my L-shaped computer desk set up at the new place and decided to put all of my plants on one side of it (for now, until we get better shelving set up) and the green in my office space is definitely a nice mental boost. Plus as the tomatoes in the aerogarden ripen I can just pick them and snack at my desk lol
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ham-st4r · 8 months
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Cyber sex - L.HS
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Pairing: heeseung + female reader!
Warnings: heeseung is 32, smut, anal sex, unprotected sex, protected sex, phone sex, cam sex, oral both receiving, fingering, sexting, cum eating, ear licking, spitting, dirty talk, use of tinder, skype instagram and FaceTime, mutual masturbation, cursing, use of sex toys and lube, heeseung is cringey and clingy and awkward but it’s cute, angst, crying, fluff, heeseung says stop once but he doesn’t really want you to.
Genre: smut, long distance relationship, slightly inspired by cyber sex from doja cat.
Summary: after heeseung comes home from a long day at the office, he quickly gets bored and finds himself scrolling through the Tinder app that he made an account on a few days prior, and much to his surprise, he had gotten a notification that he had found a match.
Wordcount: 19,546k
All I can say is sorry for the long wait. I hope everyone will enjoy!
This is complete fiction by no means can you go on tinder and find yourself a hee so please stay away from that app (I mean it)
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After a hard day's work, all heeseung wanted to do was take a shower and relax on his comfy king sized bed in his house, and that's exactly what he did once he got home.
He quickly made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his suit and tie before stepping into the warm stream of water, he sighs in relief as the water cascaded down his tired, aching muscles. Despite what most people may think, sitting down at a desk all day definitely takes its toll on one’s body.
He grabbed his favorite shampoo, lathering his hair with it and washing away all the stress from the day, the faint smell of mint clearing his sinuses as he massaged the sudsy liquid through his wet hair.
A few minutes later, he rinsed his hair out and lathered his body with matching body wash, covering himself in the fragranced gel. He then grabbed his body scrubber, washing himself thoroughly before turning off the water and stepping out of the shower.
He towel-dried his hair and body before walking to his bedroom and grabbing a clean white shirt and a pair of boxers from his drawer.
Once he was completely dry, he put his clothes on and hopped into bed, peeling back his covers and tucking himself in, reaching for the TV remote and clicking the power button, watching the first show that piqued his interest.
After an hour, he started to feel bored, which wasn’t unusual. He lived in his big house all alone and didn’t have any friends after graduating college. He just didn’t have time to hang out and party the way he used to. Not to say he really missed it though, back then he was a young adult, but now that he’s a grown man, he realized there was so much more to life than drinking and women.
On top of everything else, after 8-10 hour work days, he just didn’t have the energy to attend any social gatherings to meet new people, so needless to say, he was a homebody.
But living this kind of life every day after landing his dream job was starting to get old. Don’t get him wrong, he’d never go back to his wild college days, but thoughts of settling down and having a wife and a child or two or more definitely had been crossing his mind as he was reaching his mid-thirties.
He sighed and slumped further down in his bed, grabbing his phone once the TV show had ended.
Just then, a notification from Tinder popped up on the top of his screen.
What can he say? He was lonely and maybe even a little bit desperate at this point.
He clicked on the notification and, saw that he had a match, and nervously started a chat.
He debated on what to say as he chewed on his bottom lip in thought. Gosh, he hasn’t realized just how out of touch he was with everything.
Before he could leave a message, another alert on his phone went off,slightly startling him.
You: Hi handsome 💕
You nervously typed on your phone, waiting for the guy that swiped on you to respond. You were surprised someone that looked like him was even on Tinder. He was tall, good, looking a co-CEO, and a decent age, which was appealing cause you were tired of dealing with little boys that called themselves men, and to top it all off, he didn’t live that far away.
He made a sound similar to a mouse when he read the message, and he felt his face heat up at your blunt text. The last time he’s been called handsome was by his grandmom last Thanksgiving. “Relax,” he rolled his eyes at himself for acting like a preteen. It was just a simple text, and he was already getting flustered for no reason. You were just a girl that he met online.
A very, very pretty girl he met online.
Heeseung: Hey
He only realized just how boring and bland that sounded once he had hit send. “Ugh,” he buried his head into his pillows.
You happily looked at the notification on your phone, and you can’t lie how excited you got when he replied so quickly, but your excitement soon deflated when you saw his reply. Maybe you were already reading too much into it, but he didn’t seem to reciprocate your same excitement.
You: How are you?💕
You sent back, kinda unsure of how to approach him after his seemingly uninterested reply.
Heeseung: Good, how about you?👀
He sighed. If he wanted to keep you interested, he definitely needed to up his texting game.
You: Good
you reply simply.
“What happened to the little hearts?” He frowned slightly at your reply that wasn’t accompanied by emojis like the first few texts were, and now he was getting nervous because he didn’t know what to say next to keep you on the line.
He scrolled through your bio again, looking for something to strike up a conversation.
The first thing he saw was that you liked animals, so he quickly decided on that topic so he wouldn’t keep you waiting for a reply.
Heeseung: So you like animals?
You just blinked at your screen when you saw his message and no wonder he was single. If his conversation was this bad in real life, you wouldn’t be surprised if he died single.
You: Yeah hbu?
You reply back just as dryly.
Heeseung: Yes, I’m quite the animal myself😏
He attempted to flirt, but it came out sounding entirely wrong.
You read his reply over and over again, and you couldn’t reply with anything but.
You: ??????
If he could go back in time, he definitely would cause he was going to die of embarrassment any moment now.
Heeseung: I meant in bed…..
You: Oohhhhhhhhh
You replied in between a fit of laughter that was probably the lamest thing you have ever read, but you couldn’t deny it made you laugh, and somehow it was even kinda endearing in an odd way, not to mention the smirking face emoji he sent along with it was amusing, to say the least.
He face-palmed himself before texting you again.
Heeseung: You know what? I’m sorry, just forget about that.
Heeseung: Or better yet, I’ll just leave you alone.
Heeseung: Nice meeting you.
He stuffed his phone under his pillow, burying his face in his covers. “And that’s why you’re single,” he mutters to himself. He didn’t realize just how much he actually sucked at talking to women. It was a lot easier in high school, or maybe it was easier cause he looked better in high school, and the girls didn’t care that he had no game. Who knows? All he knows is that he just blew his chance with a beautiful girl who showed interest in him.
But it wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe someone else would swipe right on him, and he could learn from this god awful experience on this god awful app.
After your small fit of laughter died down, you texted him back.
You: I don’t think I’ll ever forget that one. I might even have to use it one day🤔😂
Heeseung was brought back to reality when his phone buzzed with another notification from you. He didn’t even want to read it, but he did anyway, and he cringed at himself even more.
Heeseung: Please don’t. Wouldn’t want you to willingly embarrass yourself like that,
He texted and didn’t even realize there was a small smile on his face. At least he made you laugh, though.
You: So, do you always refer to yourself as an animal when you talk to girls?
You chuckled slightly and got more comfortable on your bed now that the conversation was interesting.
Heeseung: Only pretty ones, was that better?👀
He asks you jokingly.
You: Maybe just a little bit
You smile, and you can’t believe he’s making you all giggly with his cheesy pickup lines.
Heeseung: I’ll try harder next time😂
You: Next time?
Heeseung: I mean, only if you want to talk again. If you don’t, I completely understand 😅 Haha,
He can’t lie the idea of messing up his shot with you wasn’t sitting all too well with him. You were exactly his type. You were both looking for the same thing, and he had to go and ruin it by saying something stupid.
You: If there’s a chance I can get some flirting tips, then I’d definitely like to talk again🤭
Heeseung: I can assure you there’s plenty more, but as you know you have to work for a tip so….
You: I’ve never been scared of a little work😉
Heeseung: I like that 😌
You: What else do you like?
Heeseung: Hmm… girls who like animals
You: You’re getting better already.
Heeseung: What can I say? I’m a fast learner.
You: What should I do with that information? 😝
Heeseung: That’s up to you, beautiful 😉
You: *Blushing*
Heeseung: And I’m not even trying hard.
You: Oh, is that so? Maybe you should🤭
Heeseung: Yeah? Want me to go harder, beautiful?
You’re not sure when the conversation steered in this direction, but you can’t say you weren’t enjoying it.
You: Go your hardest
you taunted.
Heeseung: I don’t think you’re sure of what you’re asking, doll face.
He had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from, but he liked it.
You: Well, maybe you can show me sometime? Just so I can be sure.
He bit his lip at just the thought he’d definitely be down for that after getting to know you better.
Heeseung: I’d love to show you sometime.
The rest of heeseung’s night was spent talking and flirting with you. You both agreed to share Instagrams after hours of talking to each other and getting to know one another.
Luckily, he had redeemed himself along the way and was able to hold a smooth conversation without being too awkward.
You: It’s late. You should probably get some rest now since you have work in the morning.
You say to him.
Heeseung: Trying to get rid of me already? And here I am, thinking that we’re bonding :(
You: Noooooooo 🥺 It’s just you need to rest so your face can be even more handsome in the morning.
Heeseung: That was supposed to be my line😞
You: Well, you can use it on me tomorrow night
You reply, hoping that he will message you tomorrow cause you had a lot of fun talking to him.
Heeseung: I definitely will. Well, I guess you’re right. Make sure you get some rest, too, okay? I’ll try to message you before work if I don’t sleep in too late😂
You: Okay! Talk to you Tomorrow. Goodnight, heeseung sweet dreams💕
Heeseung: I can’t wait to talk to you again goodnight y/n 🩵
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t kicking his feet like a schoolgirl before bed.
➜ ➜ ➜
Heeseung: Morning, beautiful🩵
Heeseung texted you as soon as he opened his eyes. It was really early in the morning, so he wasn’t expecting you to reply so quickly, but he wasn’t complaining either.
You smile at the conversation from last night and his latest text.
You: Morning, handsome💕
He smiled and got out of bed, running the shower while he texted you back.
Heeseung: I’m headed off to work now, but I’ll message you again when I get off if you’re free later?👀
You: Me too. I get out at three, so anytime after then is fine if that’s fine with you?
Heeseung: That’s perfect for me! ☺️
You: Great! ttyl enjoy your shift💕
Heeseung: You too, pretty girl😉
You hearted the message he sent and scrambled to get ready for work with a smile on your face.
With your fast-paced life, it was hard to get out of the house truthfully, too many meetings stacked on business trips and extra hours during hectic weeks.
You felt like you never got a breather. You had gone about this same routine for years, and though you absolutely loved your job, even you had to admit you didn’t have a life outside of work.
And your friends made sure to remind you of that every girl's night out, always talking about what guy they fucked and if he was good in bed or not, and while you knew they were just having fun, it sucked not to have any steamy stories of your own so you could be apart of that conversation.
You hadn’t had any in ages, and the last time was so disappointing cause right when you were about to do the deed, he passed out from drinking too much.
And that wasn’t much of a story to tell.
You wanted some action but didn’t have the time for it, not just so you could be a part of the girl talk, but you really just wanted some interaction with the opposite gender, and after seeing one too many Tinder ads pop up in your face, it was like even the internet was telling you that you were single and pathetic and you needed help to find someone.
So, deciding to download the god-awful app after pondering on it for a while turned out to be not so god-awful, at least not yet. Anyways, you matched with a ton of guys, not to toot your own horn, but so far, only one caught your interest. His name was heeseung, and he was exactly your ideal type, so you matched with him. and you know It’s only been a day, but so far, so good.
You just hoped it stayed that way.
Heeseung: Hi! I’m on break. I hope your shift is going well so far.
He hit send, before he could even shut off his phone, you replied, making him smile instantly.
You: Hey, it’s going well, thanks for asking. What about you?
You smiled as you sent the text, feeling happy that he kept his word and texted you back like he said he would.
You: btw I’m on break too👀
You sent a follow-up message.
Heeseung: Oh nice, maybe we could talk for a bit if you’re okay with it?
You: Sure, I’m bored out of my mind🙄
Heeseung: Same. I’m always bored, and the food in the break room leaves a lot to be desired 😒
You: Sounds like we work at the same place 🤭
Heeseung: I wish. I wanna meet you 👀
One of your co-workers approached you before you could read his message. “Only two more hours,” he grumbled while making some coffee to get him through the rest of the day.
“We’ll make it. We always do,” you chuckled as he sighed and rested his hands on his head while his coffee was brewing.
Heeseung: I’m sorry, that was probably too soon
He sends back when he sees that you stopped responding even though his message was clearly left on seen.
Heeseung: I swear I’m not a creep or anything like that
He sighed after realizing that made him sound creepier.
Heeseung: Never mind that last message and the one before that 😬
He triple texted cause he was overthinking things. He didn’t think that maybe you might have gotten busy with something, and that’s why you didn’t reply immediately.
You looked back down to your screen, reading the three messages he sent. Your heart rate increased as you read the first message he actually wanted to meet you? You definitely weren’t expecting that, but like he said, it was a bit too soon to meet. Plus, he lives four hours away from you, and you’re not sure when you could get time off to see him.
You: you’re so cute💕
He was literally apologizing for no reason. Besides, isn’t it like normal to want to meet someone you met online? Honestly, it wasn’t creepy at all, just a little soon and a bit sudden.
Heeseung: 😳
His initial panic disappeared as soon as he read your last text. Thank god you didn’t think he was a weirdo or some kind of creeper.
You: I wanna meet you too, but maybe let’s get to know each other a little better first
Heeseung: Of course! Maybe if you want, we could call each other when you get off work?
You smiled at the thought of hearing what he sounded like. You wondered if his voice would match his angelic face while in your daydream. He started to overthink yet again when you didn’t reply to him immediately.
Heeseung: Only if you’re like comfortable with it. If not, I completely understand. I just wouldn’t want to make you feel weird or anything like that.
Before he sent a whole other thread of text, he willed himself to stop typing and going completely overboard.
You: My break is up, ttyl cutie. I can’t wait to hear your voice 😉
Heeseung: You got it!
You giggled at the odd reply, but still, it was undoubtedly cute.
“Is that a yes? I think that’s a yes.” he smiled and looked at his watch, showing him the time and that he had gone a minute over his break. “Shit,” he mutters, clocking in and hoping he wouldn’t get dinged for it.
➜➜➜
You both arrived home and took showers before plopping into bed, completely tired and exhausted minds riddled with meetings and reports upon a slew of other things.
Heeseung was waiting for the clock to strike three while you sat in bed waiting for your phone screen to light up with his call.
Five minutes past two, he called you, and much to your enjoyment, his voice sounded as heavenly as he looked. You and heeseung started chatting over Skype after exchanging phone numbers prior in the evening.
You both talked about your day and the problems you faced at work and soon transitioned into a new topic to learn more about each other.
“So, what else do you like other than animals?” He chuckles on the other end of the call, thinking about your first encounter with him. He felt lucky that you even stuck around after that foolishness.
“Mmm, well, a friend of mine named y/n met this guy the other night. His name is heeseung, and she likes him a lot, but she doesn’t know if he likes her.” You giggle, pretending that you’re not talking about yourself.
“Is that so?” He hums and plays your little game. “Crazy enough, I know this guy named heeseung that just so happens to like a girl named Y/n. In fact, he said he’s head over heels for her.” You can tell he was smiling just by the sound of his voice.
“She’s such a lucky girl,” you say seductively, half intentional, half unintentional.
“You think so?” He immediately matches your playful flirtatious tone.
“Yes,” you whisper the tiniest hint of a moan at the end.
“And why’s that beautiful?” He bites his lips softly.
“Hmm,” you pretend to hum in thought, but anyone with ears could clearly hear you were moaning. “Cause he’s handsome, tall with a pretty voice and even prettier eyes.” You don’t know what exactly came over you so suddenly, but you blamed it on not having any interaction with men for so long and left it at that.
“I guess she is lucky, huh?” He chuckles, trying to mask how flustered he was by your words. “He’s lucky too, you know?”
“How?” You reply quickly, desperate to find out exactly what he thinks about you.
“She’s beautiful, has all the same interests as him, unintentionally cute, and not to mention she has the perfect body.” his heart wasn’t the only one racing after saying something so straightforward on the second day of knowing you.
“How perfect?” Your throat feels dry as you whisper the words into your speaker.
“So perfect,” he breathed out, contemplating if he should continue this, but you started the flirty conversation, so he assumed it would be okay with you. “The type of body that I fantasize about.”
“What do you fantasize about? Tell me what you’d do to me?” You finally break your character, and you clearly hear his breath hitch on the other end.
“I’d lay you out on my bed, admire every inch of your perfectly sculpted body, then I’d undress you slowly, one piece of clothing at a time, kissing, sucking, and licking every single inch of you, whispering sweet nothings before eating your precious little pussy and savoring every last drop” he curses to himself lowly the image of you like that now swirling around in his brain. “And that’s just the start, beautiful.”
Embarrassingly enough, you could feel a slight tingle down there just from his voice alone, and he’d be lying if he said something wasn’t stirring below his waistband. “Tell me more.” You feel so easy and desperate after just knowing him for two days you’re practically throwing yourself at him, but you just can’t help it, and you also can’t help the way your hand slipped inside your underwear. “Please,” you whisper, and he audibly gulps from the way your tone has completely changed since the call started.
“Then I’d make you cum on my fingers, on my tongue, and lastly, my cock. You’d like that right feeling my cock stroking deep in your pretty pussy” There’s no denying that he’s hard, especially with the way you’re practically moaning while he talks to you, and it only dawned on him what was actually going on when your moans increased in volume, and your breathing had quickened. “Wait, are you?” he says, completely shocked. If you were doing what he was ninety-nine point nine percent sure you were doing, he was going to lose his mind. “Are you touching yourself?”
Your hand comes to a complete stop when you hear him say that. You quickly take your hand out of your underwear and clamp your legs shut as guilt and shame washes over you. “S-sorry,” you quickly apologize for your behavior. You felt terrible cause he wasn’t even aware of what you were doing while he was on the other end. You could only imagine what he was thinking about you after that shameful act you just committed.
Except he was thinking, what the fuck exactly were you apologizing for? He felt like he was on cloud nine. The fact he was able to turn you on to the point that you wanted to touch yourself was beyond huge for him. He had no idea anyone would even find his dirty talk attractive, let alone to the point of masturbating to it. “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. Just tell me about it next time so I can do it with you.”
“Okay,” you mumbled, embarrassed, not knowing what to say next, but Heeseung knew exactly what to say.
“Now pretty, tell me, are you wet?” He moves his blankets back to slowly palm himself over his boxers.
“Yes,” a shaky breath could be heard from him after your response.
“Fuck keep touching yourself pretty wouldn’t want you waiting too long to make yourself feel good. Can I touch myself, too?” He asks you for permission.
The thought of him wanting to touch himself for you was making your head spin already. “Yes, heeseung, please touch your cock for me” You hear him almost whimper, and it makes you throb so hard down there as you continue fondling yourself to his voice.
“Okay.” He hastily reached into his drawer, pulling out a good size bottle of lube, flicking the cap open before pulling down his boxers, holding the bottle above his tip, and squeezing a nice amount onto his shaft before he spreads it around, covering his entire length. “Anything in particular you’d like me to do?” He hisses as he slowly works his cock up and down. He feels so shameless for doing this, but he can’t even care anymore. His mind is too clouded with lust, and your voice sounded too good for him to stop.
“Rub the tip.” You bit your lip as you buck your hips into your palm.
“Fuck” he whines and does as you say. “It feels so good.” he slowly cups his palm over his sensitive tip, rubbing the head like you asked him to. “Are you fingering yourself?” He breathes out, eyes falling shut from the pleasure his right hand gives him.
“N-no, just rubbing.” he twitches in his palm at that, imagining how pretty you must look while pleasing yourself.
“Play with your little hole, stick your fingers inside, and pretend that it’s me fucking you open” Your eyes rolled back immediately as you stuffed your fingers deep inside you, thinking about his cock instead.
“Heeseung,” the moan of his name nearly makes him cum on the spot.
“Does my cock feel good?” He grunts out.
“Mmm, yes, so good, so fucking big and thick” The moan you let out was absolutely obscene, but he loved every last second of it.
“Yeah? You like my big cock stretching you out, pretty?”
“Yes,” you whine, feeling your legs shaking as you got close.
“Me too” he grips his cock tightly, trying to mimic the way you’d feel around him. “Love splitting your tight cunt open with my cock feels so fucking good” he jerks himself faster, and you can hear the wet slippery sounds of his hand moving up and down on his dick.
“Want your cum” you beg shamelessly as your walls tighten around your fingers, too far gone to even try to stop the filth coming from your mouth.
“Cum on my cock, and I’ll give you my cum, pretty,” he says, knowing he’s right on the edge. Even though you weren’t physically together, he still wanted to make you cum first.
“Cumming!” You sped up the pace of your fingers and finally reached your end as the pleasure filtered through your body in waves.
“Gonna take this cum?” He groans.
“Yes, heeseung,” you whine, and not a second later, his cum is spilling all over his chest in long hot ropes.
“Take it pretty. Take it all like a good girl.” he rubs out every single drop, moaning and panting in exhaustion mixed with pleasure.
You can’t help but moan with him as you caress your clit till you're satisfied.
Once your guy's moans fade out into silence and your minds clear, there’s a hint of awkwardness.
The silence continues cause you’re both deep in thought about what just transpired.
He hopes you don’t think he’s just someone who’s nasty and has phone sex with random girls after just meeting them because he doesn’t. You were his first and probably would be his only. There was just something about you that he couldn’t say no to. He wanted to blame it on his nonexistent love life, but that just wasn’t the case.
You, on the other hand, were freaking out because what if he thought you were just some slut that went around having phone sex and flirting with guys you just met on Tinder? You really hoped he didn’t get the wrong idea about you despite literally having phone sex with a guy you just met, but heeseung somehow felt different. How could you not touch yourself to a voice as seductive as his? It’s not your fault that he was literally the epitome of perfection.
“I’ve never done that before,” he finally says something, knocking you out of your intrusive thoughts.
“Me neither,” you tell him, and the relief you both feel is enough to wipe away any awkwardness or apprehension about each other that was once there.
“I liked it,” he chuckles bashfully as a smile climbs up your lips.
“Me too,” you reply with the same shyness as him.
“That’s good to know,” he smiled, and that was all he needed to hear.
➜➜➜
“Fuck baby, I’m so fucking close,” heeseung moans, and you’re not far off either.
You had just gotten off of work, and since the first time you both had phone sex, you’d been doing it every time when you got off work, and it was better and better each time, especially when you found out about the toy collection you both owned.
Heeseung was currently balls deep in his clear flesh light, restlessly pounding into the toy pretending it was your pretty pussy instead.
Much like him, you had a huge clear dildo buried to the hilt inside you while you played with your clit. “Mmm,” you moaned, biting on your lip when a risky idea popped into your head. “I wanna see you,” you say without even thinking twice about it.
Heeseung halts his movements, thinking he heard you wrong, but he knows he didn’t. “Me too, baby,” when he responds, your heart beats frantically in your chest. Not being able to hold your excitement, you prop yourself up, making sure your surroundings are presentable before requesting to FaceTime him.
He scrambles to quickly find a good angle, not expecting you to request a video call, so soon he connects the call, and you’re met with a view of his neck, and downwards you hold your phone, giving him a clear view of the toy slowly sliding in and out of you.
You do your best to focus on fucking yourself, but it’s hard when you’re eyeing his body up and down. He looked so much fucking better than what you imagined, and so did his cock. He was literally huge.
His deep voice brings you somewhat back to reality. “Wish you were here right now” he sat on his knees, covering his cock with the clear flashlight, slowly fucking it until his red-hued tip poked through, leaving your mouth watering and your pussy creaming. “I’d fuck that creamy little pussy so good” he easily matched the pace of your dildo, trying to make it feel as real as possible. “Look at your thirsty little pussy sucking that cock right in, taking it real nice and deep, yeah?”
“Fuck heeseung” You did your best to keep your camera in focus, but it was hard to when your body was shaking with so much pleasure.
“Pull it all the way out and fuck it back in pretty. Show me how hard you like it.” Your back arched as you slithered the toy out of your hole only to shove it back in, and you gasped out a loud moan when you stuffed yourself full.
He mimics your rough pace. “Faster,” he commands while he snaps his hips into the fleshlight.
“Oh! H-heeseung,” you babble out his name, going faster and harder just the way he wanted you to, and none of your late-night sessions alone in your room ever felt as good as this.
“F-faster,” he whines, pushing the toy further into his mattress as his body starts to feel sore, but he needs to see your pussy coming around that toy before he can cum.
Tears well in your eyes from the pleasure. You barely feel coherent, and you’re not even sure if your camera is still on. All you know is that you’re seconds away from coming.
“Fuck me, heeseung,” your voice vibrates in your throat, and you come hard around the dildo, squeezing it tightly as your orgasm takes control of your body.
“Fuck y/n fuck” his own voice sounds strained, and you can hear that he’s close from all the moaning and heavy breathing. He quickly pulls out and grabs his camera. You catch a faint image of his face before he flips his phone showing his cum shot to you. “Wanna cum in you so bad,” he whines and grips his base jerking out the rest of his milky release for your eyes to see, and you wish it was inside of you instead.
He falls on his bed, avoiding his cum soaked sheets holding his phone normally so you can see his bottom half as his cock starts going soft between his pretty legs.
He nearly moans when he sees you pulling the dildo out of your hole. It’s soaked in your cum, and he swears he’s never wanted to be anything more than that stupid toy right now.
Your hole continues to pulse as more white dribbles out. “Such a pretty hole,” he says, and it makes you feel shy knowing that he’s seeing you up so close and personal. “That was so hot,” he comments. Once you turn off your camera and go to clean yourself, he can’t even see you, yet you’re brushing like crazy.
“You are too,” you say shyly, and he’s happy you turned off your camera because now he’s a blushing mess.
“I’ve never been so jealous of an inanimate object,” he sighs, folding his sheets and tossing them in the laundry bin in the corner of his room. “I need you soaking my cock like that baby, not some stupid toy,” he whines, and you laugh.
“Hee, stop it.” You make your way to the bathroom cause after that, you definitely needed a shower and sheet change.
“Okay, okay, anyways, do you wanna shower with me?” You’re not even sure why he’s asking. Of course, you wanted to. It’s been your little routine for the past couple of weeks after you both agreed cause it made you feel like you were actually with each other.
“Of course, hee,” he swears. His heart melts every time he hears you say that little nickname you gave him.
He props his phone in the window seal, requesting to FaceTime you again.
You nervously bite your lip. You never face timed in the shower before.
After three rings, he grows a little nervous, thinking he once again overstepped his boundaries. He should have asked before just FaceTiming you. He frowns after a few more rings, knowing you’re not going to pick up. He doesn’t know why you’re not answering him, though, it’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked before, but maybe you’re just into him for cyber sex, and maybe he’s way more into you than you are into him, those thoughts make him overthink, but luckily you answer him before he could doubt everything you guys have done up to this point. “Hi, pretty,” he said excitedly and waved at you like a little kid.
“Hey, cutie,” he steps out of frame doing a little happy dance, but what he didn’t know is that you can see him in the reflection of the mirrors in his bathroom.
You couldn’t help but laugh. He just kept getting cuter by the day.
You both silently wait for each other to get into the shower, and when you do, he’s asking you a question that, In his mind, was long overdue. “So,” he starts and lathers his hair with shampoo. “It’s been a while since we have known each other correct?”
“Correct,” you smile, already knowing exactly where this is headed.
“And we’ve learned more about each other.” he plays with the suds from his hair, making a goofy face into the camera that makes you laugh.
“A lot more,” you reply, working the conditioner through your hair.
“Yes,” he chuckles at the double meaning of your words. “So we should meet, what do you say? Nothing too extreme, but I was thinking something nice. You and me have the weekend off, so I thought now is the perfect time.”
“Sure,” you chirp, and you both share warm smiles before chatting about random things here and there.
Once you’re all done showering, you both climb into bed, nearly running on empty batteries on your phones.
Neither of you wanted to hang up, but the sleepiness was taking over fast. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay baby?”
“Okay, goodnight, hee.” His eyelids droop even further, and he’s just able to make out your reply before he passes out.
“Night night, pretty.” You’re not even sure if you hung up or if he did, but before you could think about it, you were already drifting off to sleep.
➜➜➜
Heeseung: Morning, pretty.
You smile at your phone when you hear the alert, already knowing who it was this early in the morning. Another sound chimes before you can look at the first message.
Heeseung: Missing you
He sent along with three attachments, and he nearly gave you a heart attack because someone could have easily looked over your shoulder and seen him in all his glory.
You quickly turn down the brightness after analyzing those photos in far too much detail.
You: You can’t send me stuff like that at work😐
Your reaction wasn’t exactly what he was expecting, but he should have known better than to send that to you at your workplace. You could have gotten in trouble.
Heeseung: Sorry baby☹️ just thought you might like it. I won’t do it again
Why was he so adorable? You nearly squealed from his cuteness.
You: Hee baby, I did like it, but maybe next time, send it while I’m on break. Someone could have seen you, and I don’t want anyone seeing you.
He felt warm from your reply. It was cute to him that you wanted him all for yourself, and he felt the same way about you.
Heeseung: Don’t worry, I’m all yours, pretty.
You: Good.
You answer him quickly, taking one last look at the photos he sent you. The cam didn’t do him much justice cause his cock looked even prettier in those photos.
You: I’ll let you get back to work.
He hides his phone under his desk before he gets scolded for not paying attention to the meeting he is currently in.
Not even five minutes later, the dampness in your panties was unbearable, so you went to the bathroom to take them off.
You: Hee, I can’t focus 😩
You sent him. When he felt the buzz on his thigh, he couldn’t help but unlock his phone and check your message.
He smirks at the text.
Heeseung: You liked it that much, huh, baby?😉
You: Of course🥺 I can’t even wear my underwear 'cause they’re so wet
You whined in frustration. You needed him so badly right now.
He flicked his eyes across the room, making sure no one noticed him.
Heeseung: You’re wet?”
He loosened his tie and began impatiently bouncing his leg up and down.
You couldn’t believe him. What the hell did he expect after sending you not one, not two, but three whole pictures of himself?
You: Hee.. I need you.
Heeseung: Baby…
He responds, and maybe this wasn’t as cute of an idea as he once thought cause he now had a boner in the middle of his meeting.
You: Please, heeseung, I’m so 💦
You sent, knowing that would get him riled up, but it’s only payback, though.
Heeseung: Fuck baby, don’t do that. I’m in a meeting. I’ll talk to you later.
He quietly puts his phone away.
You frowned. Of course, he’d start something he couldn’t finish. Looks like you were just going to have to do the rest of your shift with a puddle between your legs.
➜➜➜
Heeseung: Baby, I just got home. What are you up to?
He sat down on his bed, undressing himself, not bothering to shut off his phone cause he knew you’d respond right away.
After a few minutes with no reply from you, he squints at his phone, finding it odd you haven’t replied yet.
Heeseung: Baby~👀?
Heeseung: are you there?👀
You saw his messages, but you weren’t going to read them as payback for what he did to you earlier.
Heeseung: Did you go to sleep? If so, sweet dreams, baby talk to you later tonight😘
It was hard not to reply to him, but you weren’t going to keep it going for much longer. You just wanted to tease him a little.
After two hours, heeseung was having a hard time not hearing from you. It’s not like he couldn’t go without talking to you, but he was accustomed to it, and now he was missing it.
Heeseung: I hope you’re sleeping well, baby. Wake up soon, though, cause I miss you already 🥺❤️
Why did he have to make this so hard? Ugh, him calling you baby was your ultimate weakness. So you gave up and just messaged him back.
You: I miss you too, hee🩵
He nearly dove on his bed when he heard the alert go off.
He didn’t bother texting you. Instead, he called you, wanting to hear your sweet, sweet voice. “Hi,” he nearly keels over at the sound that he’s grown to love so much. Your voice was so so pretty.
“Hey baby,” he sighs dreamily, closing his eyes softly, listening to your soothing voice until it wasn’t so soothing, and his eyes shot wide open in panic.
“I’m mad at you,” you tell him, and he sits up straight.
“Baby? Why? What did I do?” He starts panicking right away, and you can’t help but laugh. “Why are you laughing? If I hurt you, it’s not funny,” he pouts.
“Hee, I’m kidding. Calm down. I was trying to pretend that I was mad at you and ignore you this whole time because of what you did to me this morning,” you groan and throw yourself on the bed.
“You did? So you weren’t asleep? Baby, you’re mean,” he fake cries.
“Me?! Hee, you’re mean, you left me wet all day.” Kicking your feet, you whine loudly, making him chuckle. “And you’re laughing at me?!”
“Sorry baby,” you can still hear him laughing. “I didn’t make you wet, though.” You wanted to jump through the speaker and smack him for trying to play innocent. “You chose to get wet.”
“So when I send pics tomorrow while you’re at work, just remember it’s you choosing to get hard.” You hung up the phone without giving him a chance to respond.
“What! Baby, no, I’m sorry I didn’t me-“ he looks down at his phone, seeing the call had disconnected. “Uh oh”
➜➜➜
Heeseung’s hands were literally sweating. He was so nervous if you did indeed send him pics, he didn’t know what he was going to do. It didn’t take much to get him going, and he’s sure just a simple pic of your panty line could make him hard. It’s not like he was that easy. It’s just you were that fucking sexy to him.
The morning went by smoothly. You had already texted each other your good mornings, and he figured you had forgotten about what you said last night.
Until the last hour of his shift, he gulped. Hearing the alert on his phone, he contemplated not even picking it up, but what if you needed something and it was important?
With a heavy sigh, he hides his phone screen and opens up your message. “Fuck” he moans quietly and looks left and right, making sure that no one heard him. He left his chair and immediately went to the men’s room. “Fuck fuck fuck” he curses, locking himself in the bathroom, and that’s what he gets for teasing you like that the day before.
Heeseung: Guess who’s in the bathroom as hard as a rock😐🪨
You giggle at your screen, texting him back.
You: No? Who?”
You felt like the devil for doing that to him, but he could take a little payback.
Heeseung: Not funny, y/n😔
You: Aww, my poor little bunny,🩵
He grins at the new nickname, but he’s still semi-upset with you.
Heeseung: Come help your little bunny👀🥵
You laugh. There’s no way you could leave work and drive hours for him even though you really, really wanted to.
You: No way, hee, just accept your demise.
You hide your phone, making sure no one sees you.
Heeseung: Fine, but baby, why are you so wet in those pictures? You didn’t get off without me, did you?🤨
If you did, he so wasn’t going to let you get away with that.
You: I might have looked at the pics you sent👀
Shit, he wished he never even asked because the idea of you looking at his pics and getting wet made his cock twitch.
Heeseung: You’re so naughty😏
The throbbing between his legs was becoming unbearable for him, but he knew he couldn’t do anything without you.
You: I get it from you😉 Now, bunny. I have a meeting to attend ttyl.
Heeseung: Baby… don’t leave me like this 😩🫠 at least call me when you get home so we can get freaky on camera.
You laugh, reading his last message, and left him on seen, leaving him to find out a way to get his boner to go down all by himself.
➜➜➜
You asked to get off earlier than usual, and luckily, your boss let you go. You wanted to have a little extra time before heeseung got home cause you were going to surprise him.
Except you were nervous as heck because you weren’t sure if you were doing too much, but you guess you’d find out about that soon.
When heeseung called you after he got off work, the last thing on his mind was to see your ass up, barely anything on and a clear diamond plug inside your tight hole and a dildo in the other though it was unexpected, but, it most definitely wasn’t unappreciated. “Oh my god, baby,” he trailed off at a complete loss for words.
You looked so fucking perfect.
“You like?” You say, looking back at the camera as you bite your lip and slowly bounce up and down on the dildo.
He nearly choked on air while he tried to answer. He rushed to his bedroom, quickly yanking off his jacket and undoing his belt. You laugh when you find out that he liked it, a feeling of relief washing over you. “Yes baby, you look so pretty.” he looks at you with what you could only describe as heart eyes. “I'm already so hard.” You hear him unzip his slacks, but you quickly stop him.
“Ah ah, no touching,” you chuckle softly at his expression.
“Please don’t do this to me” he throws his head back against the headboard feeling like he was going to explode if he didn’t cum soon.
“Hmm, fine, I suppose I’ll let you off this time. Go ahead, hee, get yourself off, cutie,” you moan when you come down on the dildo.
“Thank you” he smiled faintly and quickly pulled down his pants and underwear in one go turning the camera around so he could show you his hard leaking cock.
“Hee,” you whimper at the sight of his cock. No matter what, you knew nothing would feel as good as him inside you.
“Ride it,” he spits in his palm and wraps it around his thick cock, slow stroking it.
You lift yourself off the dildo, hearing him groan as you clench down on the tip. “So fucking creamy, baby” he tilts his head slightly and bites on his lip, mesmerized by the thick strings of arousal that coat the silicone toy.
“Just for you,” you purse your lips, unable to keep yourself from bouncing faster. He hated how that toy got to feel you, and he didn’t.
“God, I can’t wait to see you in person gonna fuck you so much better than that stupid toy” he picks up the pace with you gradually so you can both cum together.
“I know you will,” you whisper now, desperately fucking yourself onto the dildo.
“Shit,” he couldn’t take his eyes off the clear stud that was nestled deep inside you, shining every time you bouched and the light hit it just right, and now he had not one but two toys to be jealous of. “Your ass is so pretty” his eyes roll back into his head as he feels the heat pooling in his abdomen. He knows what that’s a sign of, but he doesn’t want to cum so soon. “I bet you’d like it if I fingered that tight little hole while I fucked you hard and deep, yeah?”
“Mmm yes hee would you fuck my ass too?” You rubbed over the plug, gasping as you pushed it inside you further.
He growls when he hears your naughty request. He’s never tried anal before, but he’d love to try it with you first. The idea sounded so sexy to him. “I would. Fuck, wanna feel both your holes around me so fucking bad, baby” he could barely contain himself watching the way you swallowed up that toy and how well it stretched you out, but he knew he’d stretch you out so much more that you’d need an even bigger toy by the time he was done with you. “You’re gonna make me cum” he whispers, moaning while pumping his dick faster.
“Want your cum on my ass,” you cry out, legs shaking and sore as you reach the point of no return, and that knot inside you is seconds away from breaking.
“Oh- fuck” he pants heavily, and you gasp as his cum shoots out, some of it splashing onto his camera lens, but that makes it so much hotter.
“Hee,” you breathe out. Just imagining him cumming on you makes you unravel, and your orgasm washes over you in tingling waves of pleasure. “Oh yes,” you moan, falling forward to give your legs a break as you roll your hips and ride out your high.
“Keep going,” he grunts while the last beads of cum bubble out of his sensitive tip. “Mmm fuck” he hisses, body shuddering from the intensity.
You whine into your pillow, trying to catch your breath, the butt plug definitely highlighting the pleasure as you rock back and forth until you can’t anymore, and the exhaustion finally takes over.
You got off the toy and laid flat on your bed, panting and sweaty. “I loved the surprise, baby.” heeseung flips his camera so you can make out his sweet features as he stares at you with a lazy smile and half open lids.
“I’m glad.” You smile tiredly, but it drops when you see him frown. “What’s wrong hee?” You whisper softly.
Even with his blankets pulled up and hugging his pillow, it still feels cold and empty without you there. “I wanna cuddle with you so bad. You’re gonna make me drive hours to hold you in my arms, baby,” you giggle, and he pouts. “I’m serious.”
“I know, bunny, just two more days, though, okay?”
“Okay,” he grumbles. “I want to take a shower with you, and I want to stay on the phone till we fall asleep,” he demands in the cutest way ever.
“Whatever you want, bun” he kisses his camera lens, and that’s when you knew he really couldn’t wait to see you. “Mwah,” you kissed him back, and the smile on his face made you think that he might really be the one for you, but you wouldn’t blow things out of proportion because you still had to meet him first and see how things go cause you didn’t want to take things too fast.
Once you both got into bed, you came up with a brilliant idea. “We shouldn’t talk to each other till we meet.”
“What? No, no, no, I don’t wanna do that.” he shakes his head back and forth like a child.
“Bun, think about it. It’ll be like not looking at the groom before the wedding,” you say, ecstatic about your idea.
“We’re not getting married,” he deadpanned.
“Fine,” you mumble.
“Wait, baby, we can do that if you want. It would make seeing you even more exciting if that’s possible.”
“See!” You flop down and get into bed.
“Yeah, I see your point,” he sighs, just staring at your beautiful face on his phone screen.
“I can’t wait till the weekend,” he smiles, happy that you’re just as excited as him. He could really see you two working out. Same hobbies, same interests, and a decent bond after just two months, not to mention how comfortable with each other you both already were, sure things were going a bit fast but it didn’t feel wrong and everything was going great and the fact you even liked him back was a miracle in his eyes.
“Me neither, baby, but for right now, close those little eyes and get some sleep, okay, pretty.”
“Okay,” your eyes flutter shut softly.
He makes kissy noises, and despite you feeling embarrassed by his behavior, you do it back, which makes his heart beat for you just a little bit faster. “Goodnight, pretty.”
“Nighty night, bun.” Only time would tell how things would go between you two, but it looked very promising.
➜➜➜
Like you both agreed, neither of you faced time or called each other for the rest of the week. It was hard, but you both knew it’d be worth it in the end.
Heeseung had already packed the night prior and was on his way to see you first thing in the morning. He was so excited he literally couldn’t wait, and neither could you. Every minute felt like an hour waiting for his arrival.
But soon, the clock struck seven, the time he said he’d arrive, and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest when you saw his black Mercedes’ pull up to your driveway. You smoothed out your black dress, taking a long, deep breath as he knocked softly on your door.
He nervously played with the petals on the flowers he bought you while waiting for you to answer.
When you answered, he felt like the breath got sucked out of him. He was literally in awe of seeing you in person for the first time. “Hi, pretty,” he smiles widely, greeting you like he normally would over the phone. And it wasn’t awkward at all seeing you, but it was definitely exciting.
“Hey, hee.” You take in his features, and he looked just the same in person, if not better, and you think not talking to him for those few days really did make meeting him all the better, and he’d have to agree with you on that.
“Baby, you look so beautiful in person,” he says softly.
“So do you.” You complement him shyly. He looked amazing in his all-black suit. You could barely contain yourself from jumping on him.
“Thanks.” He looks down, playing with the flowers once more. “I bought you these. I hope you’re not allergic.” he extends them out to you.
You shake your head back and forth lightly. “Thank you. Come in,” he steps in, taking a short look around.
“I like your place. It’s nice.” You place the flowers in a vase on your table, smiling fondly at them.
“Thank you.” You turn to him and walk over to where he is standing as he looks at you up and down. “So where to?”
“You’ll see.” he grabs your hand, leading you outside your house. Opening the car door for you like a true gentleman, and that was already a green flag.
Once he gets in the driver's side, he sets the navigation to the destination of a small but fancy restaurant. It was outdoors, and he thought it would be more romantic for your first meeting than dining inside around a bunch of people.
At dinner, you both talked like normal nothing was weird or awkward. Everything seemed like you two had known each other for years. It was so casual, and a big plus was you weren’t overdressed like you had worried about when you were getting ready.
And since you were so comfortable around him, you felt bold enough to pull your next move, something you only thought of a few hours before he arrived at your place. “Open your hand,” you said to him after you two had finished eating dinner and dessert, and now you were having a few drinks before heading back home.
“What do you have for me?” he smiles and opens his hand for you to place the tiny controller in.
“Look and see.” his expression was priceless as he looked up at you, not expecting this at all.
“Baby…” his words get swooped away in the wind, and he can’t even begin to comprehend what’s happening, but it all becomes clear when he presses the power button, setting off soft vibrations inside you that make you gasp and shift in your chair slightly.
He turns up the speed higher, and your mouth gapes open, eyes nearly turning completely white as you throw your head back in pleasure, and the pulsations in both your holes begin to make your legs shake. “Fuck, we have to go now” he stands up, offering you his hand to lead you out of the restaurant before he loses himself. “Wait, is it okay with you?” He stares at you, big, round eyes showing nothing but care and you nod your head shyly, feeling beyond lucky to have found someone like him.
After opening his car door for you, he scrambles to the driver's side impatiently, gripping and struggling to put on his seat belt. You giggle softly as he presses the start button with shaky hands. He paused for a moment and took a deep breath before pulling out of the parking lot and heading straight for your place. “I can’t wait to have you baby. You have no idea.” he placed his hand on your thigh, trailing it up your skirt and leaning over the console to place a kiss on your cheek when he reached a red light.
“I think I have an idea.” You smirk and grip his wrist, placing his warm hand up your skirt and between your legs. He gasps when he feels the river flowing out of you, and he can’t help but rub you while he’s driving. “Hee,” you whisper, and he takes his eyes off the road occasionally to watch your expressions while he thumbs at your clit.
“Patience baby, gotta take it slow” he removed his hand from under your skirt, and you whined from the loss of touch, but you knew it was better this way, even if you did feel like cumming on the spot when he smirked at you and sucked your wetness off his fingers.
He turned the vibration up to full speed without warning, and your back arched off the seat, mouth parting in a lewd gasp. “Fuck” You turned to him, eyes already lidded and filled with lust as you looked between his legs seeing his thick bulge poke out from his dress pants, and you couldn’t help but take him in your hand so you could feel just how thick he really was.
“Gonna be inside you real soon, pretty,” he groans when you squeeze him in your tiny hand. “Look at you so dirty, baby. Can’t wait for me to fuck you, huh? Already stretched and ready for my cock” you hum as a response, already feeling dumb from his words mixed with your holes being stuffed to the brim.
“Mmph yeah,” you bit your lip, stroking his cock as your mouth waters. You felt so desperate for him to fill you up. You’ve waited months for this, and just minutes away from your house, he was finally going to be all yours.
“Fuck” he curses and presses the gas. There was no one on the street anyway, and he needed to be inside you at least ten minutes ago.
Within a few more minutes, he arrives, yanking his seat belt off. He rushes over to get the door for you, and you yelp in surprise when he hooks his arm around your back and just below your knees, carrying you up to your home.
You quickly type in the password, allowing the both of you to enter. “Bedroom?” He nibbles on your ear while you kick off your heels at the door, and he does the same with his shoes.
“Upstairs,” you mumble, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck as he takes you to your bedroom. He quickly opens the door, practically slamming it shut with his foot and laying you on the bed.
You take the liberty of taking off your skirt, leaving you in just your panties while he rips open his shirt and easily strips down to nothing but his Calvin Klein boxers. “It’s so big.” Your heart thumps over and over as you take in the sight. No video call could have ever prepared you for this.
“Yeah? Like it?” He bites on his lip to contain how happy your words actually made him. You nod, eyes still heavily trained on his dick print. “Baby, you’re even more perfect in fucking person,” he moans shamelessly at the sight of your breasts, and his body is instantly drawn towards yours on the bed, remote still in hand. He lowers the vibrations, giving you a break from the intensity. “I can’t believe this is actually happening,” he whispers, just focusing on the moment while you twirl your hands in his hair.
“Me neither.” Your smile makes his heart race, and before he gets too sentimental and kills the mood, he placed his lips on yours, kissing you like you were his first kiss ever. “You’re so cute, bun.”
He hides his face in your neck, kissing your pulse. At the same time, you sigh, indulging in his soft touch as he moves his head downward, his tongue poking out, leaving snail-like trails of saliva on your perky breasts. When you wrap your legs around his waist, he balls the sheets in his fist, rutting his bulge against your core. The soft vibrations of the toy shooting through his dick automatically make him whimper, and he turns up the speed masking his loud moans by sucking on your right tit.
“Hee, I’m gonna cum” With the vibrations from the toy and his hard cock rubbing your clit you couldn’t take much more he shut off the toy entirely. There’s no way the first orgasm you experience with him would be because of a toy either you’d cum around his fingers or cock, nothing less.
He sits up, dropping his boxers around his ankles to free his cock, and you’re left speechless and clenching around nothing.
His cock twitches as he catches your line of vision. “Need you inside me, hee, please” After what felt like at least an hour of torture and teasing, you couldn’t help but desperately beg and moan for him to fuck you.
“Breathe baby, just relax.” he steps out of his underwear and hooks the waistband of your panties, eyebrows raised in anticipation to see what’s underneath. “You’re perfect,” he comments, continuing to pull your panties down your ankles. You lift your legs up slightly, aiding him in the process of removing your panties. “Gonna take it nice and slow baby, we have all night.” he lays between your legs, placing a hand on the toy and gently pulling it out, only realizing that it had been in both your holes this whole time. “Are you trying to fucking drive me crazy?” You only moan as you feel your holes being emptied and clenching down around nothing.
“Maybe,” you smile mischievously.
“Well, it’s fucking working, god baby, you’re not gonna get any sleep tonight because of me” Your stomach turns with arousal, knowing that he means every word of it, and you don’t mind one bit.
He starts out kissing your clit and exploring your vulva with his warm tongue while your hands find the hair on his head. Gripping it softly, his hands squeeze your plush thighs as he hums from the already addictive taste coming out of you. “Taste like fucking candy, baby,” he exhales a long breath diving back in for seconds, poking the tip of his tongue in your hole, swiping up the first glob of wetness that drips from your slit.
“Hee,” you bite into your lip, closing your eyes and enjoying this experience. It’s been so long that you couldn’t help but soak in every wet lick and warm flick of his tongue. “Oh my god.”
Oh my god, is right. He thinks because you taste like fucking heaven on earth so much that, he could cum from your arousal on his tongue alone.
His two fingers slip right in from the earlier prep. He curls them up and suckles on your clit, finding your spot easily like he’s had you before. You’re amazed and confused at the same time cause you’ve never felt yourself cumming this fast before. This was a record by far. “Hee”
“Baby, I know,” he whines, allowing his eyes to fall shut as your walls tighten around his fingers. The little vibrations from his voice replicate the toy from earlier, and your legs shake from the sheer intensity of your impending high. He sucks on your clit, slurping at the little nub until he takes the first orgasm out of you.
Your mouth hangs wide open, the repeated flicking of his tongue sending you into complete bliss. You rotate your hips, riding his tongue and gripping his hair tightly while you lose yourself in the feel of him. “Oh heeseung!” A loud moan travels up your throat and comes out, sounding like the sweetest song he’s ever heard.
He opened his eyes, looking up at you as you cried his name in pleasure. He pulls his slick fingers from your hole carefully and sucks off everything swallowing it down, savoring your taste until he’s content.
He licks your pretty pussy clean before hoisting himself up on the bed as you try to catch your breath, only for him to take it away when he smothers you in the wettest hungriest kisses you’ve ever felt. You whine into his mouth, writhing underneath him at the loss of breath, and you feel lightheaded, yet you chase his lips in search of more, and he delivers, sticking his tongue down your throat, devouring your mouth with one lust filled kiss at a time.
Your body shudders as you feel his warm cock rubbing over your pussy. Your legs find their way around his waist yet again, begging him to push it in. He rolls his hips, brushing his wet tip between your swollen folds. You’re both so lost in the kiss that you barely notice the increased pace of his thrusts. It’s only when his tip slips inside that the kiss ends, leaving you both gasping in each other's mouths. “Oh fuck” your moans get lost in each other’s mouths when he pushes in all the way, easily bottoming out inside you. “You’re so tight and fucking warm shit, baby,” he groans.
“Hee, you’re so big,” you squeak and rake your nails into his back as he groans again from the sting, but the pain only fuels him to buck his hips into you faster. His arousal coated balls smack against your ass. The clapping sound made everything feel so dirty but so hot at the same time.
His elbows dig into your mattress, and he cards his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp, heightening the pleasure to a new level that you didn’t even know was possible. “Hear that?” He breathes out in your ear. “Hear how wet this pussy gets for me?” You clench at his dirty words, and he smirks, knowing just how much you love his dirty talk. “Clenching so tight for this dick, you must have really been craving for me, huh? Who knew such a pretty face could be so naughty?” he dips his tongue into your ear, tracing every little crease, and you swear you go crossed eyed from all the different sensations that he makes you feel at once.
“Yes, want it so bad” Your hands grip his ass pulling his body closer so you can feel every last inch of him stuffing you full. “Feels so good. I love your cock”
“Yeah?” He withdrew from you to admire the look on your face. The sight of you under him, sweating, panting, and moaning just for him, nearly made him cum. “If you keep talking to me like that baby, I’m gonna cum” he rested his forehead against yours, and you took the opportunity to capture his lips for another short kiss.
“Cum in my hee,” you say, not entirely in your right mind.
“Baby…” he slows his pace down. Just the idea of cumming in you was enough to make him feel like emptying his load in you, and that wouldn’t be very responsible of him.
Your head was somewhere else. Despite his warning, you still wanted to feel his cum in you. You used the last ounce of sanity to say something you never expected to say to him, at least not on the first night. “Then fuck my ass, hee cum in me please need to feel you so bad,” you beg.
“Shit,” he pulled out right away. The thought of filling up your ass was the only thing on his mind. He knew you could take it too, after all the dirty little surprises on cam that you did for him, and finally, he could be in the place of your little toy collection.
He hoisted you up slightly, legs still around his waist, as he swiped up your arousal with his shaft, using it as lube to coat your twitching little hole. He stuck his thumb in testing the waters, and he easily sank in. “Gonna fuck your tight little ass so good, pretty girl” he pulled out his thumb once he made sure you were ready and pushed his cock head in your hole. The wetness on his cock made entering you nice and smooth as he slowly buried his cock inside you squeezing your thighs, trying to ground himself.
“Fuck yes,” you moan as you feel him enter you. Your eyes roll back as he fucks his cock deep into your ass. The pleasure was so overwhelming, but you enjoyed every single second of it.
“So tight,” he grits through his teeth the deeper he gets. When he was fully covered in your warmth, he bent down to kiss you. It’s messy, but it’s so good the drool dripping from his mouth turns you on so much that more arousal drips from your hole and dribbles down to his base. “You feel like heaven,” he choked out, leaning back to take a breather, his eyes catching sight of the leak between your legs. He gathers it on his fingers, pulling it out halfway and rubbing it on to wet his shaft to make sure the slide is still comfortable for you. “Hmm,” he grunts loudly, placing his hand on your hip and pressing down on your lower stomach with the other. “So creamy.” he locks his eyes on the white coating his shaft, and his mouth falls open. It felt so different from your pussy but still so good. It was soft and so so warm.
You propped yourself on your elbows, and his eyes flick over at you. He smirked, feeling your hole clench as you watched what he was doing to you. “You like that, huh? Watching it go In, watching me fuck your tight little ass, yeah?” He moans from the tightness around his base.
With pursed lips, you nod your head. It was absolutely filthy what he was saying to you and what he was doing to you, but you loved all of it. He was giving you everything you’ve ever fantasized about and then some.
You fell back on the mattress too fuck out to keep yourself up any longer. “Yes, heeseung, keep fucking my ass just like that,” you scream, and it sets off something in him. His nails dig into your hips as he pounds your ass ruthlessly.
“Baby,” he moans, biting on his lip. The sheen of sweat on his body makes him look so much hotter, and you swear you feel yourself getting even more wet. If that’s possible, he rests one hand beside your head and the other on your hip, using his thumb to rub on your clit.
You tremble under him, and you feel your body go completely limp, legs jelly, mind numb with nothing but the thought of his cock thrusting inside you so perfectly till you came clenching around him so tightly that he could barely even move. “Heeseung!” You writhe beneath him, a panting, moaning mess. “Cum in my ass, please” you moan, and it sends him over the edge. He stills in your tight rim as his balls tighten, and he groans, filling you up his with his creamy cum just the way you begged for it.
“Fuck!” He whimpers, feeling a chill run down his spine as he collapses on top of you to lock his lips with your whimpering into your mouth about how much he’s cumming and how good you feel around him. “Oh god,” he winced slowly, riding out his high, keeping your ass plugged with his cock as his cum settles in you. “Shit,” he huffs out, resting his forehead on yours.
You’re too fucked out to even respond, and he chuckles, lightly pecking your lips. “That was so fucking good” he leans up and pulls out of you, watching your rim twitching and pushing out his cum, and it was a lot. Your hole looked so pretty, leaking all his white semen out of it.
You moan, feeling his seed drip out of you. He immediately lays down next to you, both of you utterly exhausted. He pulls you close to his body, caressing your bare skin softly. “That was amazing, heeseung thank you.”
“Hmmm, of course, baby,” he smiles. “Been waiting so long to hold you in my arms,” he kissed your cheek, hugging you a little tighter. “You wanna shower now?” You nod against his chest, but he waits a few more minutes, so you both can catch a break after that, and soon he carries you to your restroom, getting ready to bathe you and cuddle you asleep til his heart is content.
Meeting you went even better than what he had originally planned.
➜➜➜
You hum in delight when you feel heeseung’s warmth so close to you you snuggled up to his chest, kissing his pecs until you made him stir in his sleep.
“What are you doing?” He laughs, his voice still deep with sleep as he lightly strokes your hip. “Miss me already. Hmm?” He smiled and cracked his eye open, looking at your gorgeous face in the morning. And he knows it’s far too soon to say this, but it’s an image he could definitely get used to waking up to every morning before work.
“Yes,” you scrunched up your nose, a playful grin on your face as you ducked beneath the sheets.
“Y/n, what are yo- ahh” he moans out when he feels you kissing on his tip, and he was thanking himself for going to sleep naked with you last night.
You peppered his soft cock with kisses loving his quiet little moans as you did, so you took things a step further and licked his tip. “Fuckkk,” he breathes, eyes fluttering closed while you did him under the sheets.
You smile, dipping your tongue into his slit and swallowing his sweet sticky precum. You placed your hand around his base, tugging on it gently and guiding his length into your mouth. “Baby, feels so fucking good” he runs a hand through his hair from the feeling lip caught between his teeth as he arches off the bed slightly.
His words only encourage you to fit more of him down your throat until his tip nearly gags you. You begin bobbing your head slowly and pull away with a pop. After a few good sucks, you jerk him off and trail the tip of your tongue down to his balls, taking your time suctioning each one of them into your mouth and slurping him up.
“That’s so good.” his eyes are in his skull. He’s sure of it. He’d never felt this kind of pleasure in his life ever, and needless to say, his release wasn’t far off.
You switched positions, swallowing his girth back down your throat and rubbing his sensitive sack. “I’m not gonna last.” he puffs out a breath and grips the sheets, whiny moans slipping past his lips and ringing in your ears in the early morning.
You hum, anticipation boiling in your stomach as he pulls the sheets back, finally to see you there, laying prettily between his legs. The sight of you looking up at him while his cock was shoved deep down your throat was all it took for his toes to curl and his cum to fill your throat. “Baby!” He winces and cries out as he tucks into himself, jerking slightly as you suck the high out of him. “Ugh,” he whines, balls tightening in your hand until you suck him dry. “Please s-stop,” he says but continues bucking his hips and fucking your throat. “Please, ah fuck”
You smile with your eyes, knowing that he’s loving every last second of it cause if he wanted you to stop, he could have easily pulled your mouth off his dick.
You pull away, giving him a slight breather as you let his cum mixed with your saliva, dribble down his shaft, and soak his swollen balls.
“Oh fuck!” He throws his head back, gasping for breath as his nipples harden from the sensation your mouth was so wet and sloppy, and he loved it so much that he was bound to cum again.
You use your other hand, bringing it up to his chest, tracing the lines of every muscle, and playing with his perked nipple. “Oh my fuck, y/n, please, please, please! I’m gonna cum again” his body language was enough to tell you he was close, and the twitching of his dick confirmed it. “Cumming” he moaned, and your chest fills with pride when you saw his body go limp at your touch. He throbbed on your bottom lip, giving you every last ounce of his cum, and you happily swallowed it all down, gulping everything until it was completely gone.
When you were done with him, you looked up to see his hair sticking to his forehead, body still trembling, and cock twitching ever so slightly. “Y/n,” he called to you, and you smiled as he reached out to grab you and hold you. He kissed your lips and pulled back, staring into your eyes with his completely fucked out ones.
Not only was he fucked physically, he was fucked figuratively cause he was sure after spending the night with you and waking up in your bed that he was undoubtedly in love with you, but he couldn’t say it now. He didn’t want to come off as weird, and what if you didn’t feel the same? He wasn’t ready to take that type of rejection after being so open and honest with you. He was literally giving this relationship his all cause he wanted you to be his last stop. Cause after you, He couldn’t see himself with anyone else even though it’s only been a few months, but he felt like he’d known you forever.
“What are you thinking about?” You booped his nose, doing a complete 180 to when you had just given him the best suck of his life.
“You,” he says simply, and it was true, but you didn’t have to know what about you he was thinking in particular. “Kiss.” You lean in, pecking his pouty lips softly, and he closes his eyes, burying his face into your chest, holding you as close as possible. Your body feels warm with happiness as he holds you like you are his, which you really want to be his, and you want him to be yours. You just wonder if this is a phase for you or if you're as deeply in love with him as you think, but as you lay in his arms and kiss the top of his head, your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest and you’re sure this isn’t just some phase you want lee heeseung the guy who first introduced himself as an animal in bed.
You chuckle at the memory. You’ve both come a long way since then and so have his flirting skills.
“Let me eat you out,” he says, breaking your train of thought. “Please? Or I can fuck your pretty little cunt or that tight ass” he squeezes your bottom, and you feel shy from his words despite the fact he did all those things to you just last night. “You choose, baby. Just wanna make you feel good too.” he noses your bare chest, and the once sweet moment is broken cause now arousal is stirring in the pit of your stomach. “Please let me make you feel good,” he whispers and peppers your chest with kisses as you run your fingers through his damp hair.
“Okay, hee” he smiles and springs up from his once slouched position, his eyes gleaming with joy now that you’re allowing him the honor of pleasing you.
“Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”
➜➜➜
“Heeseung, please hurry,” you say as he grabs a condom out of his pants from last night. He had already made you cum on his tongue once, and you couldn’t wait any longer to have his dick inside.
He quickly hops on the bed, trying his best not to keep his baby waiting. He opens the condom and hands it to you, wanting you to put it on him instead. He smiled shyly as you rolled down the rubber. Once you finished, he got between your legs, rubbing his cock through your folds for lube. “Gonna put it in now, okay?” You nod, and a gasp rips from your throat as his tip splits you open.
“Yes.” You sigh in pleasure, placing your hands on his chest, kneading every inch you could touch as you wrap your legs around his waist.
His chest feels tight the moment he bottoms out. It’s so good that his eyes squeeze shut, and his mouth falls open. “Ahh fuck” he groans, setting a good pace right from the start. “Never gonna get used to the way you feel around me. Just so fucking good, your pussy feels so perfect” his head lulls back, leaving his neck on display. You watch his Adam's apple Bob each time he gulps, and he looks so sexy on top of you while stroking your walls.
“Hee,” you rub his toned chest, clenching around him tightly, almost too tight for him to move.
He pushed your legs up to your chest, hitting the deepest part of you, and you screamed out, the feeling made you feel dizzy. He was so so deep, and his thrusts were slow but rough and every bit of hard. “So. Fucking. Wet.” He spoke between each thrust, hitting your cervix repeatedly as you clawed at his abdomen, which was soaked in your leak. “Gonna fuck you so hard just like I promised” he leans down, kissing your forehead, and that’s the last gentle thing you felt before he was fucking into you like a wild beast grunting every time he bottomed out, his balls banging against your ass, creating loud clapping noises along with his hips colliding with your thighs.
“Oh heeseung! You cry, eyes rolling in your head as the bed begins to squeak, which only motivates him to go harder until the bed is rocking against the walls, and a mix of arousal and sweat splashes all over your bed sheets.
“Like it pounded nice and deep, yeah?” he breathes out, snapping his hips as he feels you clenching, and he immediately starts fondling your clit. “I can feel that pussy squeezing so tight for me, baby.”
You nod, lips in a pout, tears nearly in your eyes from how good he felt. Your whines make his head spin, and he swears you’re the most beautiful woman on the planet, all sprawled out just for him taking everything he has to give you. “Fuck it hard and deep heeseung, please, baby” Your meek moans make his cock impossibly hard, and he falls on top of you, stroking your cunt with all his strength as he plays with your clit and sends you over the edge, soon after he whimpers, cumming into the condom just seconds after your first harsh clench on his dick.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant endlessly and grip his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss while he chuckles and moans into your mouth, finishing inside the rubber. Oh, how he wished he was cumming inside you instead.
After your orgasms settle down a bit, you both take a little moment to breathe.
“Hmmm, keep squeezing on me like that pretty milk my cock” Your ears heat up from his words, and somehow, after everything, his dirty talk is still enough to make you blush. Despite him still being deep in you, you can’t help but feel shy.
“Hee,” you whine and hide into his chest once you both finally finish and the post orgasm clarity kicks in.
“You like it, though, right?” He smirks while trying to catch his breath and gain his bearings as you shyly agree with him. “I knew it.” he kissed your forehead and pulled out, tying off the condom and tossing it in the trash bin by your nightstand before cuddling with you again.
“You really are an animal in bed.” his go wide, and you smile. Much to his horror, he really prayed that you had forgotten about that a long time ago.
“Y/n,” he whines and hides himself under the covers, only for you to pull them back and tease him some more. He giggled when you tickled him, and you swore it was the cutest thing ever. Once your little play fight ended, you were lying in his arms yet again. “Baby, are you hungry?” He turns to you, and you melt when you see the look in his eyes. You’re not even sure what it is, but every time you make eye contact with him, you nearly melt.
“Hmm, you just fucked the life out of me, so I’d say yes.”
“Oh my gosh,” he blushed, and after that, he couldn’t make eye contact with you anymore. He literally looked everywhere in the room except at you, scratching his nape shyly like he hadn’t just said the filthiest things to you just moments ago.
“You’re so cute, you know that right bun?” You lay on his chest looking up at him, and now it’s his turn to nearly melt. You looked so freaking cute his heart could barely take it.
“Why don’t you call me that during sexy time?”
“You’re so stupid,” you cackle and hit him on his chest, which only makes him chuckle cause you weren’t using any real force. “Next time, but right now, I’m starving.”
“Me too. Let me take you out on a little breakfast date. I was looking up places to take you, and there’s a place that’s supposed to be really good, and it’s only a few blocks away.” You stare at him fondly, falling for him even more cause of his thoughtfulness, but of course, him being him, he starts to overthink your silence. “O-or not, maybe we could do something else if you like. I don’t know. I just thought you know.” his words fade out as he plays with a loose thread on your sheets. He clears his throat and looks back at you before his eyes flick back down on the blankets, and you know what? You’re actually in love with him, like deeply madly extraordinary in love with him. Every little detail about him makes your heart palpitate.
“Bun?”
“Hmm?” He looks in your direction, a nervous look in his eyes and a small pout on his lips.
“Take me on a breakfast date,” you smile, and he breathes a sigh of relief.
He doesn’t say anything. He just pulls you impossibly close and presses his lips on yours until you can barely breathe, and even then, he has a hard time pulling away.
“Let’s go on a date!”
➜➜➜
The date was lovely, nothing too extreme, but still simple and nice. He took you on a short drive after to a flower park where you held hands and got ice cream later, and of course, he was just as cute as could be during the whole date. He stops on the trail, turning to face you, and you can’t even focus on the flowers because of his handsome face. “So, did you have fun?” He mumbled, and you could barely even hear him. “Y-you know, on the date,” he smiles bashfully, unknowingly squeezing your hand out of nervousness. The last time he’s been on a breakfast date was never.
“I loved it, bun.” You kissed his cheek. “Best day I've had in a long time.” You wrap your arms around his neck as he stares down at you. “Thanks for today, and I’m not just saying that. I really mean it.” And you did, it’s been too long since you had a nice day out of the house.
“Yeah?” He rested his forehead against yours and smiled softly as he encircled your waist. “We should do it again soon,” he pauses for a moment. “But, like, only if you’re free, if you don’t have time, it’s fine, and I can completely understand you have a life outside of me.” he leans back, and his eyes go wide. “Not saying you only make time in your life if it’s for me, bu-“You just shut him up with a kiss. He was so adorable, but he had a little habit of talking too much, but you didn’t mind cause you used it as an excuse to quiet him with a kiss. “So, is that a yes?” He searches your eyes for an answer, and you swear you can hear his heartbeat.
“Hee,” you breathe softly.
“Yes, baby?” He focused back on your beautiful eyes that were boring into his own with a smile on his face.
“It’s 100% a yes, but for now, take me home so I can ride you.” You smile and bite your lip. “Bun,” you add, and you swear his eyes rolled back slightly.
“Come, come,” he grabs your hand quickly, driving you both back to your house.
➜➜➜
“Feel good, bun?” You already know the answer by how quickly he’s panting and how his mouth is gaping open as endless whines spill past his lips, but you still wanna hear him say it.
“I- ugh fuck me,” he whines and grips your hips rocking you back and forth on his long cock. “I love it. Feels so good I’m gonna cum” he buries his face in your chest, your boobs smothering his face, and he twitches from the feel of you. Everything combined makes him short circuit. “So close,” he tries pulling out cause he’s not wearing a condom, but you just move his hands away. “Y/- oh fuck!” He squeezed his eyes shut, balls throbbing as he shot his cum deep inside you painting your walls pearly white.
“Yes, bun, give me all your cum” you moan as he digs his nails into your hips, whimpering and filling you up with cum. You’re so warm and so tight around him he feels like he could pass out or maybe even cry cause that’s just how good you felt, not to mention how you called him bun just like he wanted you to. That nickname alone could make him cum on the spot. “Fuck I’m cumming, bun,” you moan, throwing your head back as he rubs your clit in fast circles sending you to the brink and creaming all over his dick as he squeezed your left breast while sucking on your perked up nipple. “Ooh fuck yes, bun” You grind back and forth on his lap, riding out your orgasms until your legs completely tire out, and even still, you roll your hips, savoring every last stroke and rub of his cock while he’s buried balls deep inside your puffy walls.
“Fuck” he hisses, watching the pool of cum drip from your hole onto his abdomen. “Give me a kiss,” he says breathlessly, and you gladly pull him in, pressing your lips on his. “You’re so perfect,” he breathes against your lips, making you smile at his compliment.
“So are you, bun.” You rubbed your nose against his, laughing softly.
“Shower with me dinner and then cuddles,” and who would you be to deny such a sweet, relaxing evening with him?
➜➜➜
“I’m so happy I’m finally here with you,” he spoons you from the back, stroking your shoulder lightly. You both had just finished showering and eating takeout. Now, you were in your pjs cuddling and watching some show that you weren’t even watching, not really, anyways.
“Me too, hee,” you sigh in contentment, scooting back into his warmth.
“Can’t believe I have to go back in the morning, though.” he hugs you tightly and sighs. You don’t even want to think about him leaving after the past two days you spent with him. “Didn’t even feel like a day,” he says disappointedly.
“Let’s not talk about that right now, bun. Let’s just enjoy each other with the time we have left.” You kiss the back of his palms, and he pulls the covers over you both, hugging you until your eyelids get heavy. And he soon follows suit, eyes closing as he settles into your comfortable body heat.
“Night, baby,” he whispers and shuts off the TV before falling asleep all cuddled up next to you.
➜➜➜
“I don’t wanna go,” he whined while you tied the knot on his tie before sending him off.
“I don’t want you to go, but you’ll be late for work, bun.” You peck his lips one last time and straighten out his suit jacket.
“Forget work, I’ll call in,” he tries to reason, even though he knew if he called in in his position, that wouldn’t look too good for him or the company.
“We’ll get some more free time together,” you tell him to lighten the gloomy mood.
“I know you’re right, but I still don’t wanna go.” he steps closer to you, hands wrapping around your waist as his lips hover over yours, his warm breath hitting your face as that little smirk etches onto his lips.
“We can’t.” Placing your hands on his chest, you push him back maybe an inch, if that.
“Why not?” He inches forward again, and you nearly cave, but somehow, you snap out of it.
“Cause your suit will get wrinkled and dirty, and you don’t have time,” you whisper, knees almost giving out from the proximity mixed with his smell.
“I’ll take it off, and so what if I’m a little late? Hmm?” When you can’t come up with any other answer, you stay silent as he smiles, leaning down to fully press his lips on yours in a very delicate kiss. “On second thought, you’re right.” he sighs and leans away from you, a little teasing smirk on his face, and you’re left speechless.
“Bun,” you whine, and he smiles.
“Can’t give out all the goods to you right away, gotta give you something to look forward to for when I visit again.” he unhands you and grabs his overnight bags, walking to the door.
Which you gladly open for him. “Bye baby, see you soon.” he tries his best to smile, knowing that soon wouldn’t be soon enough.
“Bye, bun,” you say sadly as you watch him walk down the steps. His feet feel like a million pounds, and all he wants to do is stay there with you forever, but he knows there’s a lot more that he needs to learn about you before he makes such a big step in committing.
A sigh left your lips, and you shut the door. Already feeling alone and empty, you walked over to the window, watching him loading his suitcases into the car. Without thinking, you quickly sprinted out to the car as he was backing out of the driveway.
He steps on the brakes and quickly rolls down his window when he sees you running outside. “Baby?” you don’t answer instead, you pull him in for a kiss, a kiss that felt like you were longing for him for years. You cupped his cheeks, and he let go of the steering wheel, holding your face the same exact way as he kissed you with every ounce of passion in his body that he could muster. When you ran out of oxygen, you pulled away slowly and rested your forehead on his.
“Call me when you make it back,” you say softly.
“I will,” he whispers.
“Message me after you get out of work,” you demand, and he chuckles. God, you love his laugh so much.
“Yes, mam.” his eyes fluttered closed as he nudged you softly.
“Promise me you’ll come visit again.” You rub your nose against his, making a billion butterflies erupt in his stomach.
“I swear I will if it’s the last thing on earth that I do.” he leans back, pecking your lips for the final time. “Think of it as hello and not goodbye,” he says and rubs your cheek when he sees the tears in your eyes.
“Yeah,” you smile, nodding at him. He smiles back as he rolls his window back up cause the longer he stayed, it’ll only make it worse for the both of you.
He finally pulls out of the driveway, watching you wave at him until you’re no longer in his sights. His eyes start to water much like yours, and he reminds himself that it’s just hello and not goodbye, but even still, he can’t help getting a little emotional, leaving you behind after having the best two days of his entire life.
➜➜➜
Heeseung: Baby?👀 your bun made it home safe
he sighs. It feels bittersweet texting you like this again.
You: I’m so glad you made it back safely🥰
You unintentionally swoon, smiling at your phone and watching the three little dots appear at the bottom of your screen.
Heeseung: My heart is missing you already, baby❤️🥺
Gosh, if he got any sweeter, you swear you’d die from a sugar overload.
You: So is mine, bun.🩵
Heeseung: Can you change my name to bun in your contacts? I’m gonna change yours to baby🥰
You: of course bun!💕
Bun: thank you baby💓
You couldn’t reply before he sent another text, one that was very unexpected.
Bun: My 🍆 is missing you too, baby. I swear I almost pulled over and called you on the way home🥵
You squealed and turned your phone around, laying it on your bed as you kicked your feet like a teenager.
Bun: Baby👀? Are you still there?
Baby: Bun, you can’t just say stuff like that.
Bun: Why?
When you read his text, you could literally hear him doing that cute little whine he always did.
Baby: Cause…
Bun: Cause nothing, baby. Anyways, like I was saying before you rudely interrupted me 🙄 is, I miss you, I miss your smell, I miss your face, your smile, your eyes, the way it feels to be inside you, and what I missed the most is holding you while we sleep.🩵
If you weren’t already in love with him, you would have fallen for him all over again right then and there.
And you almost typed those eight letters, but you held yourself back from doing so.
Baby: I miss you so much, too. hee, as soon as you left, everything felt empty.
After typing that, you realized how that sounded, but it didn’t feel wrong saying that to him because that’s how you felt. But if he didn’t want to take things further with you, then you would accept it. It’d be hard, but if you were going to put your feelings out on the table for anyone, he was definitely the one.
Bun: Why am I happy and sad while reading that?🥲
That was it for him for you to say something that meaningful about him. He knew that he was ready to take it to the next step even though it was just two days after meeting you and hours from leaving your house that text alone told him what he needed to do.
Bun: But don’t worry baby, I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise 🥺
Baby: You better be 🥺
Bun: Pinky swear🥹 Unfortunately, baby work is calling my name, but I’ll text you every break.
Baby: Pinky swear, okay, bye bun, I’ll miss you. Think of me💕
Bun: You know I will, baby, and Bun jr will, too😉
you rolled your eyes. Of course, he had to say something like that.
Baby: Whatever, hee🙄🩵
He hearted your message, and he was smiling from ear to ear his whole way to work.
➜➜➜
“So what’s his name?”
“Is he hot?”
“Is he tall?”
“Does he have money? More importantly, does he have a big dic-“ You cupped your hand over your friend’s mouth. It had been two months exactly since you’d hung out with them, but somehow, as soon as they saw you, they could tell you had been seeing someone. According to them, you had an “afterglow” or, in their terms, “after dick glow.”
“His name is heeseung, and yes, all of the above,” you said shyly as they squealed, delighted that you had finally got some action.
“So, is it official? Are you just fucking? Give us the deets,” Irene says.
“No, it’s not official, and yes, for right now, we’re just fucking” you whispered the last part. “I think?”
“What do you mean you think you either know or you don’t.”
“Well, okay, tell me what you guys think. I met him two months ago. He’s made time for me every day of the week, no matter the time, and doesn’t leave any of my messages on read. He always wants to FaceTime me before bed. He kisses me goodnight on the phone, and the other day, we met an-“
“What do you mean you met? What was happening before?”
“I met him on Tinder.” The loud sighs and gasps you heard were definitely warranted, but Bun was different from the rest. He was sweet and caring.
“Met him on Tinder, he swipe left on bitches, and he don’t even scroll through insta less he going through-“ she looked at Wendy, and then they both turned to you, smiling and singing the last line in unison. “My pictures”
“Guys!” You whisper shouted to gain their attention again.
They both scoffed at you for killing their vibe and told you what they thought about him. “Red flag, ditch him.”
“Yep, move on to the next. Out with the old,” Irene agreed. “Why are you even on Tinder?”
You glared at them, already judging your baby before they knew anything about him. “Well, let me finish when we met, he took me out on dates, he never tried forcing himself on me, and he even looked up places in my area where we could do things together, isn’t that sweet? Not to mention the four hour drive he took, and he never once asked me to drive to him.” You look at your group of friends, hoping that you weren’t being delusional about him, and when you heard the awe’s, the swooning, and them saying he was cute, you were relieved, to say the least, not that you ever doubted him though you just didn’t want your desperation for a relationship clouding your better judgment.
“So are you sure you’re just fucking? And things aren’t official cause, girl,” she fanned herself, and you chuckled.
“What spell did you put on him?” Wendy joked, taking another shot.
“The important question is, do you want things to be official?” Your table got a little serious at the mention of you dating someone after so long.
“I really, really want it to be,” you sighed. “But if things don’t work out this time, it’s not like I’m gonna go looking for someone new.” If things didn’t go as planned with heeseung, then there’s no way you could give someone else another shot so soon after getting comfortable and getting to know him so well it’d be hard to move on so quickly.
“Aww honey, there’s not a doubt in my mind after everything you said. I’m sure he wants the same,” Irene comforted.
You smile, thankful for their encouraging words, but of course, them being them, and with the few drinks in their system that they got from the bar, you knew something unsavory was about to be said.
“So, how was he in bed?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh my gosh,” you buried your face in your hands. There’s no way you could go into detail about everything you did with him. Even if you had ten shots, they couldn’t get that information out of you. “You’re drunk,” you laugh and push her away from you after your little talk. You finished the night texting heeseung here and there, and they teased you for the nicknames you gave each other, but you knew they were just teasing, and they thought you two were cute.
➜➜➜
Heeseung wanted you to text him when you got home, and that’s exactly what you did after taking off your heels.
Baby: Bunny~💙
Bun: Baby!🥰, did you enjoy your girl's night out pretty?
Baby: I did. I would ask if you enjoyed work, but I know you probably didn’t ☹️
Bun: Actually, baby, if I’m being honest, it wasn’t all too bad.
It wasn’t bad because he got his vacation time approved just so he could see you as soon as you had time off.
Baby: Yeah? I’m glad.
You smile. At least he didn’t have a bad day on his first day back.
Bun: yeah, and baby, speaking of work, when’s your next weekend off?👀
Baby: The one after next, why do you have it off as well?
The excitement was rising at the idea of seeing him again so soon, but it died down immediately when he responded.
Bun: Unfortunately not😞
He told a little white lie cause he wanted to surprise you a few weeks from now.
Baby: Oh,
Your whole mood just completely deflated.
Baby: When are you free again, bun?
Bun: Not for a while, baby, I’m sorry😔 but Bun will call you every day and text you every day pinky swear👀
Baby: Pinky swear🩵🐇
Bun: That’s my baby.
He smiled at the little bunny emoji he loved when you called him bun it made him feel all giddy and warm inside.
After texting him for a while, you started to feel a little bit better, but even when you said goodnight to him and kissed him through the phone, that empty feeling was still in the pit of your stomach. Maybe you were being dramatic, but you really wanted him there with you.
➜➜➜
The next few weeks were the same, calling and texting heeseung, and though in the beginning, it was enough now that you actually got to feel, see, touch, and smell him, it wasn’t, no matter how many FaceTimes you did or how many times you pressed the phone to your ear to pretend he was there with you nothing could quite replicate his presence.
Bun: What would you do if I was coming over right now?
Heeseung was parked outside a few blocks from your driveway as he sneakily texted you.
You smiled at just the thought of seeing him.
Baby: I’d give you a big bear hug and never let you go again, bun.
Bun: Is that so?👀 that sounds so nice.🥰
Baby: Of course, bun.
Bun: So why don’t you do it?
He texted you, standing right outside your door now after leaving his car.
Baby: Do what?🤔
you reply confused.
Bun: Give your bun a bear hug, after all, he is waiting outside👀
Baby: Bun, stop playing around. We both know you’re at work. You already told me🤭
After sending the message, you could have sworn you heard an alert tone outside your door, but you thought it was just your mind playing tricks on you.
Bun: So, no hug?☹️ It’s kinda cold out here, and I was really looking forward to it, baby.
You toss your phone onto the couch and open your door, and low and behold, there he was, your precious little bun standing on your doorstep with a pinkish tint on his nose and that smile you couldn’t get enough of.
“Hey baby,” he laughs at your puzzled expression. He’d be shocked, too, if you did the same thing to him.
You couldn’t believe it. You stood there in shock. How was he standing there in the flesh when he was supposed to be at work?
“I heard from a little birdie that if a guy that goes by the name of Bun, he could come to this address and get a hug from his baby. Is that right?” He smiled.
“That’s right!” You finally gave him a big bear hug, just like you promised. “I missed you so much. How are you here? I thought you had work.
“Well, I may or may not have taken time off to see you.”
“You’re sneaky.” You pulled him inside, clinging onto him for dear life and never wanting to let him go.
“Maybe just a little.” he wraps his arms around you, waddling you both to the couch, where he cupped your face and pecked your lips. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” You rubbed his nose with yours, heating him up inside and out. “I missed you.” You tackled him on the sofa, kissing every square inch of his face.
“I missed you too,” he chuckled and flipped you over so he was laying on top of you and riddled your face in kisses, maybe even more than you gave to him. “I couldn’t get you off my mind, baby. I swear every day without you felt like hell.” he buried his face in your neck, sighing in relief now that he was finally in your arms.
You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair, inhaling his shampoo, that faint mint smell you couldn’t forget cause it lingered on your pillowcase days after he left.
“Would it be crazy of me to say I want to move in with you and stay here forever?” He lays on his side, stroking your cheek.
You giggle and smile. That smile could make you do a million things, and you think that now was the right time to tell him, he drove all this way to see you, so he must feel the same, and if he didn’t fuck it, it was now or never, but you weren’t going to wait another day. “Heeseung.” You sat up, and his smile dropped when you called him by his full name.
“Yeah, baby?” He sat up with you, and his heart rate was off the charts.
“We’ve only known each other for a little while.” he nods, and you take a breath, grabbing his hand in yours.
“What’s wrong?” He says when you hold his hand and, he’s never heard your voice sound the way it does now, nor has he ever seen that expression on your face.
“Nothing, bun,” you laugh slightly, but he was still feeling uneasy. Did he drive all this way just for you to say you didn’t want him anymore?
“Okay,” he whispers.
“It’s just our relationship started out very uhh fast, you know,” you hinted about how, in the beginning, you both started out things that were of the adult nature, and he seemed to understand what you meant by that. “And it’s only been a few months, but I just can’t-“
He cuts you off before you were even able to finish cause he thought you were breaking things off with him. “Well, we don’t have to continue having sex. We’ll wait as long as we want, and we can talk more, yeah, baby? Let’s just talk and take things slow, okay?” He brought your hand up to his lips and gave it a kiss, trying his best to stop himself from shaking.
“Bun, I don’t want to take things slow,” you told him softly. You were so caught up in what you were about to say that half his words fell on deaf ears.
“Please, baby,” you finally hear him when his voice cracks and his eyes begin to water. “Let’s just try to work something out,” he said with a tremble in his voice when you looked at him confused and finally understood what he was saying.
“Bun-“
“Please, I’m begging you,” he sniffles.
“Bun-“
“I want us to work so bad, baby. I’m trying so hard.” he hugs you in his arms tightly.
“Bun!” You yell and break free from the hug.
“Baby?” He says above a whisper, a look of shock on his face. Did you really not want him that much?
“What are you even talking about?” You ask calmly.
“I’m trying to make things work,” he says blankly.
“Bun, I need you to listen to me, okay?” You smile and wipe his eyes as he nods. “I was trying to say that even though we started out fast and it’s only been a few months since we met that, i-i love you, bun, and maybe it’s too soon to say it, but I do.”
“W-what?” His body reacted before his mouth did, and he cupped your face with a huge smile on his lips before he closed the distance between you both and pressed his lips onto yours. “Oh my god!” he kissed you again. “Me too, give me another kiss,” You chuckle and kissed him again. “I love you so much, baby.” You smiled into the kiss, relieved that he felt the same way as you. Finally, you could say those words to him, and it was the best feeling ever. “I’m so happy you feel the same, baby. I thought the same thing, too, but just was scared to say it, but I love you so much.”
“I love you too, my little bunny,” you pecked his nose.
“Yeah, I’m your little bunny.” he tackled you down on the sofa hovering above you. “Told you I’m an animal in bed,” he winked.
“Is it too late to take back that I love you?” You joked.
“You’re mean,” he tickled your sides, making you laugh. “But why did you make me cry?” He pouted. “I thought you were breaking up with me well, not breaking up with me, but.”
“Bun, I didn’t make you cry. You chose to cry.” You teased him, and he whined. “How could you ever think I wouldn’t love you?” You wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Cause you’re like perfect, and I’m weird and insecure and a huge over-thinker,” he admits to you for the first time this whole two months he knew you it was great, but the whole long distance thing really made him feel a little unsure.
“Bun,” you say, and you noticed those little details about him, but you didn’t know that’s how he thought about himself. You just thought he was a little shy and cute. “You’re not weird, you’re cute, and it’s normal to overthink. I did so much, but look at us now,” you pecked him. “And what do you have to be insecure about? I was just telling my friends about how perfect you are.”
“Were you now?” He raised an eyebrow. “What did you say, hmm?” He teased.
“Not too much.” You played with his hair.
“Good,” he laughs. “Don’t think they’d want to know how I had their friend begging for me the whole weekend,” he leans down, nibbling on your ear gently.
“Bun,” you moan immediately, even his slightest touch could always make you react.
“Don’t get too excited, baby, gotta wine and dine you first. Our reservation is in an hour.” he stands up, offering you his hand.
“You’re really sneaky,” he smiles, seeing the excitement in your eyes and he can’t wait to spend all night with you.
“Just a little bit,” he smiled as you go up on your tippy toes to give him a kiss.
“Be right back, handsome.” You gave him that same compliment that started it all on the day you both met while smiling brightly at him, and he knew that smile was going to be even brighter when he asked you to be his girlfriend over dinner tonight.
So maybe the Tinder app wasn’t so god awful after all.
FIN.
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Cyber sex taglist 🔖 @donghyckl @dneltrise @jackass1123 @m31j @en-thralled @rayofsunshineeee @heeverseblog @mimimovv @hwa-0403 @leeheeheeseung @ethelia @kaykay11sworld @heeanaree @isylvr @luvleyk @yeonjuns-sock @heehoneyxxluvs @cherriruto @ambrosesworld @whoslai @luvitria @iamliacamila @heeseungssidechick
Permanent taglist🔖 @furious-eagle @hoyeonheeseung @hee-pster
Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback. - 🐹
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 month
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I have such bad baby fever rn and the Casper fabby request couldn’t have been at a better time😭 I’m in love with them
Could you please do a maybe max has been away too much and he feels Casper and fabby are getting distant from him cause they only reach for you so max takes them for boys day out. Maybe other drivers join or not either way.
A/N: Stoppppp Max would be so sad if his baby boys pulled away from him, those are his babies the twins are about 3-4 years old
Coming through the door, he keeps it quite as he knows the boys would just be waking up and wanted to be there to help you get them up. Padding through the penthouse he nods as his guards who nod and leave knowing you're much safer now.
"Thank you," Max whispers and heads into your bedroom first and smiles seeing you asleep wearing one of his old shirts, you always wore his clothes when you were gone. "Schat," Max whispers, placing his bag on the floor and moving to lean over the bed.
He smiles gently and touches your cheek, loving the way they puff out when you sleep. Whining you squeeze your eyes, nose scrunching that makes him smile when you do that. "Schat, I'm home." He whispers, placing soft kisses on your lips which has your eyes slowly opening. "Hi," You whisper, it's so soft Max almost misses it. "Hi," He whispers back.
Pulling back the blanket, Max moves and lies in the bed, holding you for the first time in almost two weeks. His body melts into yours as you bury your face into his chest, soaking in the smell of faint gun powder, lemon, with a touch of mint. It was how he always smelled, he smelled like home. "The boys will be up soon," Max hums and pulls you closer.
"I know, that's why I flew all night, I wanted to be here when they woke." Max whispers, fingers rubbing into your muscles which almost lulls you back to sleep. "Come on, let's get them before we never leave this bed." Max chuckles thinking that wasn't a bad thing but he really missed his babies and just wanted to hold them. "I'll get them," Max slides out of bed, hating that he was leaving the bed so soon.
Smiling he hears some movement in the bedroom and pushes the door open, smiling when he sees Fabby rolling around sucking on his paci. "Fabby, mijn kleine jongen." Max whispers and Fabby whines, rolling over with his hair messy and eyes droopy. Fabby whines loudly and his eyes get teary and Max coos and bends down to pick his boy up but Fabby scoots back and runs out of the room.
Max sighs, dropping his head and squeezing his nose taking a slow deep breath. He doesn't need to look to see Caspian roll out of bed and rush down the hall after his brother. Standing he heads to the bedroom and sees the boys curled into your body and you give him a worried look but he just smiles.
"I'm going to jump in the shower," Leaning over he kisses you but then goes to press a kiss on each of the boys. "No," Caspian pushes Max chest with his little hands and Max blinks and you can feel your own heart break as Max stares at Caspian. "Love you," Max whispers and walks into the bathroom, sliding the door closed.
Coming out, he wears some dress pants with a black shirt, drying his hair off as he stands in the hallway watching the boys eat. "Daddy," Fabby whines holding his bowl out to Max who smiles and moves. "Do you want more mijn kleine jongen?" Max asks and Fabby nods his head as Caspian stares up at Max with big eyes.
He moves into the kitchen and smiles at you, getting Fabby some more pancakes with berries. "You've just been gone a lot Max, that's it." You whisper, knowing why he was so tense. "Still, they shouldn't react to me that way, I've been too long," He moves away from you touch but then turns. "Why don't you take the day, do whatever you want," He takes out his wallet and lays down his black card. "Get whatever you want, let me spend the day with the boys." You can tell he really needs this and you nod your head, slowly taking the card.
-----------------------
"Daddy!" Caspian yells as Max gently tosses him into the couch laughing as Fabby runs at Max with a fake lightsaber. Fabby hits Max in the back of the knees and then the stomach. "Ugh," Max groans, fake dying as the boys jump around cheering, Max smiling as they jump on him.
"Easy, I'm not so young anymore." Max laughs and the boys giggle and run off to their room, probably to get more toys. The door opens and voices fill the penthouse, Max smiling. "What up old man," Max scuffs as Lando looks down at him grinning. "Where are the boys?" Carlos asks, as Charles comes behind them with bags, probably filled with clothes and new toys.
"Boys! Your Uncles are here!" Max yells, groaning as he gets up, knees popping and he waits, hearing utter silence. "It's never good when the twins go silent." Charles mummers, and true to his word, it was never good.
"War!" Caspian jumps out of the hallway holding a huge nerf gun and Fabby screaming as he runs out waving two lightsabers which sends the guys scrambling. Max stands there, laughing as he watches some of the scariest men in the world get chased by his two boys. Fabby comes running back and hands out of the blue lightsaber to him.
"So I finally get your blue one huh?" Max asks, knowing that Fabby loved it. "Yes, Momma says the blue is the good, and Momma says you're good." Fabby smiles and stops his face going serious seeing Lando crawl around. "Landie!" He screams and the house is filled with the shrieks of Lando as Fabian kills his uncle.
Max smiles, clearing his throat as he watches his family play. "Daddy! Get him!" Caspian yells as Charles bolts past him and Max smirks running after his friend.
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elexaria · 2 months
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do you think you could write some poly!ghoap angst again 😔 maybe simon does NOT like the reader but keeps her around bc johnny adores her, and when he’s gone simon is just so mean to her :((
sincerely, that angsty anon 🩷
simon just glares right at you whenever you steal johnny’s attention, his knuckles white as he grips down on a tea towel while drying the dishes, hearing how you manage to make johnny crack up into peals of laughter. what a bitch, simon thinks to himself as his jaw tenses up. johnny wraps his arms around you, tugging you close to his broad frame with a beaming smile. “yer a riot, lass.” he teases, burying his stubbled face in the crook of your neck, which makes you giggle because it feels so nice in a weird way. “johnny, your beard—!” you choke out, giggling even more as he purposely begins to nuzzle his cheeks against your neck with a cheeky grin
and it gets simon’s blood boiling, absolutely red hot to the point where he huffs and walks out the room with a scowl. you frown slightly, feeling that tension— though johnny is completely oblivious to it, still guffawing as he tickles you with his beard.
later that night, you feel sick to your stomach hearing the bed springs creaking from simon and johnny’s room, the sound of heavy skin slapping and johnny’s whining reverberating through the walls of your tiny shared apartment. “you’re mine, johnny boy. you hear? all mine.” simon snarls, the palm of his hand striking against flesh loudly as johnny gasps and moans in agreement. it makes your chest cramp up, you just know simon is glaring right at the wall where your bed is, smirking with satisfaction as you’re forced to listen to simon take what’s his and there’s nothing you can do but accept it. can you fuck johnny as good as he can? you can make johnny giddy, but you don’t know him like simon does. and you better remember that.
johnny limps out the apartment the next morning to go to a doctors appointment, which simon drops him off at. when he comes back, he can’t help but scoff when he spots you in the kitchen, bags under your eyes. you sheepishly look up, eyebrows furrowing at simon before turning your attention back to making your breakfast. before you can even plate your food, he’s cornered you between two countertops, towering over you with a threatening look. one hand cements itself on the counter, barricading your only way out, whilst the other grips the collar of your tshirt— effortlessly dragging you up off of your feet.
“you hear all that last night, doll face?” he growls, barely inches away from your face. his breath is a mixture of tobacco and peppermint toothpaste, it’s deeply unsettling. at least johnny sucks on a mint after having a cig. you callously nod, breathing shakily as he chuckles. the sound alone sends a terrifying chill down your spine.
“good. know your place, yeah? you’ll never have johnny all to yourself. he’s mine, whether you like that or not.” simon snarls, punctuating each harsh word with a shove, using his grasp on your shirt to push you back against the countertop. your eyes well with tears, cheeks red and flushed with thick emotion.
“best not tell johnny about our little talk, don’t want to upset him.” he chuckles, slowly releasing his grasp on your shirt to lower you back down onto your feet. he smiles sadistically, lowering himself down so he can face you directly. the way his eyes bear into you makes your skin crawl. “you tell johnny about this, and i’ll get you. yeah?” he hums, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, scoffing as he pulls away and descends back out of the apartment to continue with his day— leaving you frightened and confused :(
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jedifarmerr · 1 month
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Untimely - Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC (AFAB).
Summary: Joel might have a little crush on his business partner, but it’s no big deal - really.
This can be read as either pre-canon or AU. Reader has a nickname, but physical description is a blank slate
Rating: E (18+ no minors)
Warnings/Tags: Joel’s POV, readers dad used to be Joel’s boss, discussion of absent parents (not reader), very minor discussion of parental death (again not reader), Joel is kinda awkward when it comes to dating, workplace relationship but without power dynamics, squint and you’ll find an age gap (no exact age is stated but she does have a college degree), pining and lots of it, denial of feelings and all that good stuff, and smut in general. I’m not gonna tag everything or this would get way too long but consent is clearly stated and does not have any major triggers (to my knowledge, but let me know if you catch something).
Word Count: 23,000. This was supposed to be a short one-shot, but got out of control. Oops. This is separated into two parts on AO3
Note: I’m back!! I know it’s been a hot minute, but I’m very very excited and very very nervous to share what I’ve been working on in my absence. But here it is!
---
The first full week of September, and Austin was deadlocked in a nasty heatwave. 
Days like this made Joel wish he’d chosen a job that involved a roof over his head – or maybe just a little shade. Anything would be better than being crushed under the weight of the cruel Texas sun as it poured down through the bare-bone house. Still, Joel hammered his way through it. Even as the sun baked his scalp and covered every inch of his skin in sweat. 
Joel flapped his shirt to dry the cotton sticking to his chest like silicone glue. His walk was more so a waddle, which was honestly his fault for wearing jeans. The denim chafed against his thighs while combing the work site for any loose supplies. All he wanted to do was hop into his work truck, blast the air conditioning and leave, but instead he diligently checked between every wooden beam and around every corner. Despite the lack of drywall leaving barely any hiding spots, it was insane how often Tommy forgot a power drill behind a tub of paint or cement. 
Or somewhere else incredibly stupid. 
Nothing major today, though. Just a few nails that jingled around in his tool belt as he stepped out onto the future front porch, immediately spotting Tommy. Kinda hard to miss with his big ass head poking out the driver side window while puffing on his daily post-work Marlboro. 
“The engine was making that funny noise again,” Tommy claimed, his voice echoing across the dirt lawns and unpaved driveways of the brand new subdivision. 
Joel walked past the rusty-white hood, but heard nothing other than the usual ancient roar. There was the radio in the cab playing Foolish Games by Jewel – a favorite of Sarah’s. 
“Funny noise, huh?” He eyed Tommy with blatant skepticism before slumping into the dusty cloth seat with a thunk. “Well, sounds like it’s fixed now.” 
“Oh yeah good as new.” Tommy burned the soul from his cigarette, then chucked the butt out the window. “This thing’s gotta be what - 10? 15 years old?” 
“Something like that.” Joel didn’t know off the top of his head. The truck had been a part of the company even longer than him, meaning it had to be somewhere closer to 15 than 10. From what he could recall it’d been a few years off mint condition even when Danny first hired him. 
“Then, how the hell is it still running?” 
“Danny’s a smart man who didn’t buy a shitty Chevy,” Joel lightheartedly jabbed at his little brother – a self-proclaimed Chevrolet man, but only because of his buddies. “He knew that Ford was better - built tough.” 
“Well, ain’t lookin’ too tough now,” Tommy pointed out and Joel shrugged. 
As long as the truck got him from one place to the next, he didn’t care if it was taped together by spit and gorilla glue. He knew for a fact Tommy wouldn’t complain either if a new one was coming out of his wallet instead. 
Tommy threw the truck into reverse. “I’m telling you now, you’re gonna regret not buying a new one sooner.” 
“What are you gonna do?” Joel snorted. “Put some sugar in the gas tank?” 
“I don’t have to sabotage this piece of shit - it’ll crap out on its own soon enough,” Tommy said. “Hell, it could even happen today.” 
“Better not,” Joel grumbled, but otherwise went quiet. He didn’t know why Tommy had to put that idea in his head. Sarah was waiting for him at the shop. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to break down. 
For a mile or so, Joel sat on the edge of his seat, carefully listening to the bumps and groans – typical for a truck around Sarah’s age. The engine rattled as Tommy merged onto Highway 183, but it always did when accelerating. He swore it did. 
Whatever – enough. 
There was paperwork to do. Today’s timesheets were in the glovebox, only halfway complete. So, he pulled out the folder and set to work. At least it offered a distraction from the brakes screeching like a horde of bats during rush hour traffic. 
“Did you ever hear from the concrete guys?” Tommy turned down an obnoxiously loud ad for a car dealership in town. 
Grunting, he curtly nodded. His pen found Harry’s Concrete at the bottom of the sheet and promptly scratched it out with scathing red ink. Just seeing their name triggered a sour taste in his mouth. 
He was used to the concrete guys being flaky, but not like this. These last couple months had been like dandruff in the winter. Brutal. Today, the bastards didn’t even have the balls to call until after lunch. No excuse, either. 
“Third day in a row,” Tommy just had to say, as if he needed a nudge. “In my opinion - I think it’s time to hire somebody else.” 
“Well, you know who to share that opinion with, and it ain’t me,” Joel chided – annoyed. It drove him crazy how often Tommy needed to be reminded of simple things, like what Joel’s role in the business entailed. For God sake – it’d been over a year now since he became a partner in the company. 
Joel could initially understand the confusion. After all, Danny had run the business as a one-man show and everyone, including Joel, thought his daughter would fully take over once he retired. Danny had always said that was the plan anyway, and even named the place: Teddy’s Company. 
Originally, Joel had thought Teddy was her real name until three years ago when he finally got the chance to meet her. But how was he supposed to know when Danny never called her by anything else? It wasn’t like Joel had known much about her back then either, and what little he did came from Danny’s vague and blue-moon updates. 
College is going well. 
Her new job’s treating her good. 
She moved into a new place, seems to like it. 
Short – brief. Some people probably thought Danny was being crusty but that wasn’t the case. No, Danny was never rude or mean, just quiet. A man of few words who on his more mute days could even make Joel look chatty. 
Before meeting her, Joel used to wonder what she’d be like. His future boss. There was a mystery around her that made her seem almost mythical, an enigma. She was like Willy Wonka with her name plastered all over the place: on his shirts, the side of the truck, front and center of the shop. But Joel had no idea who she was. 
Even with a gun to his head, he couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd. Or even a line-up. The only picture he’d seen of her was in a popsicle frame on Danny’s otherwise bare desk: The two of them at a petting zoo where she couldn’t be older than six. 
Without much to go by, Joel had simply assumed that she would look and act, at least somewhat similar to her dad. He’d built Teddy up in his mind as a strong, burly woman who was gruff around the edges. Someone with a sailor’s mouth and stubby fingernails embedded with dirt and grit and grout.
Instead, they were fake and baby pink. She looked like she had never changed a tire in her whole life. 
She probably hadn’t, but she was without a doubt smarter than Tommy and him combined. A graduate from some fancy university in California with an equally fancy business degree. Charming with a nice, smooth voice perfect for sales. If she went to a random street corner to sell bags of cow manure she could sucker anyone, even him, into waiting in line to buy one. 
She was down-right impressive. Finances, pitches, and permits, she could do it all. However, the other side of the business – the manual labor, a little more dirty. 
Joel had not a doubt in his mind that she had the ability to learn it, but did she want to? 
Hell no. 
For one, she had this irrational fear over being electrocuted. Back before Danny retired and she first started working at the front desk, Joel had walked in on her changing out a lightbulb, and you would’ve thought a snake had popped out of the ceiling. He’d mistaken it for a fear of heights until a few months back when Sarah refused to let him shower during a rainstorm. Sarah had looked hysterical using her lanky-arms to body-block the stairs, warning him that he’d get fried if he went up there. 
“Don’t you know dad, lightning can travel through plumbing? Teddy was telling me all about it today.” 
Joel didn’t have a clue where that particular fear stemmed from, but her vendetta against attics, now that he could understand. After all, she’d probably still be in California if not for her dad’s accident. 
It was never Danny’s plan to retire so early. Despite the appointments and constant physical therapy, it’d still caught Joel by surprise, though not as much as Teddy’s offer to run the business alongside her. Together. 50/50. Sure, it came with this boring paperwork, but a bigger paycheck as well. Only a fool would’ve turned that down. 
Besides, promotion or not – he would’ve stayed and worked for her, regardless. 
Back at the shop, Joel would usually help Tommy unload the truck, but not today. 
Instead, Joel tucked the file under his arm, hung his tool belt on the rack, then made his way through the garage. He entered through the back door, letting it slam behind him. The cool air greeted him, tingling his tacky skin and he shivered. 
The vents rumbled inside the white hallway walls, echoing around the shop. Along with two voices coming from the lobby. When he heard Teddy’s laugh, he ran a quick hand through his hair, fixing the damp strands away from his forehead. 
He rounded the corner and Teddy was at her desk. Everything from her neck down was cut-off by the high-glass counter, making her look like a floating head. A very nice-looking floating head or a nice head to look at or -
Whatever. 
She was smiling at him – that same honey-golden smile that welcomed him every morning. The same smile he wished was here to welcome him every evening, as well. But with how late he worked most days, it was a hit or miss. He could never guarantee she would still be here, except on the days with Sarah. 
“You’re late,” Sarah said before he could even say hi. 
Joel glanced at the clock above the front door. 5:45. 15 minutes. 
“Barely.” Anything less than thirty was a win in his book. It didn’t matter that Teddy chose to stick around and keep Sarah company, he wouldn’t push it. She was his business partner – not a babysitter. 
“Still late.” Sarah stepped away from Teddy’s desk with her arms crossed menacingly over her chest. If not for the twitch of her lips, she would’ve appeared deadly serious. The girl never could keep a straight face though for more than a second. 
“Let me guess, you’ll forgive me if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” 
Bingo. Sarah tapped on the tip of her nose and Joel huffed a laugh. 
“Well, Uncle Tommy drove, but we can ask-” 
“We?” Sarah looked at him like he was crazy before shaking her head. “I think I’ll handle this one on my own.” 
“What’re you trying to say?” He asked and her lips curved into a half-cocky, half-play smirk that screamed teenage girl. A stage of life he felt rather unprepared for, even more so than diapers and potty training and 6th grade math. The teenage years were bound to be harder than statistics and exponents and long division. 
“Come on, dad. When has Uncle Tommy ever said no to this?” She showed off her best puppy dog eyes and alright – yeah, poor Tommy didn’t stand a chance. 
But Joel didn’t tell her that. He couldn’t. He was too stunned that the little girl who used to hide behind his legs at the grocery store was the same one who was strutting down the hallway now without even glancing back. 
He shook his head in disbelief and looked over at Teddy. “I don’t know where all this confidence of hers has come from recently,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the now-shut door. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with you.” 
“Me?” She fluttered her lashes like she was clueless – definitely something she wasn’t. 
“That’s right,” he replied as he approached her desk. Her area always smelled clean and homey like fresh laundry in a field of wildflowers. The last thing he wanted to do was invade her perfumed bubble with the stench of his sweat and that specific twang that came from being outside all day. So, when he caught a strong whiff of her perfume, he stopped and propped his hip against the desk before saying, “I think you’re rubbing off on her.” 
“And is that such a bad thing?” She squinted at him and unlike Sarah, she could actually keep a straight face. 
“No.” He firmly shook his head. “In fact, I meant that as a compliment.” 
In an instant, her flat-line lips split into a wide grin. He smiled in return, stupidly pleased with himself for making her light up like that. His gaze momentarily dropped from her lips to the single button left undone on her shirt. The charcoal gray fabric shined in a way that reminded him of moonlight over Travis Lake. It looked soft and smooth as butter. And not to mention expensive. Joel bet if he touched it, even so carefully, the material would immediately snag under his callouses. 
Teddy motioned for the file and when he handed it over, he felt a draft under his armpit from the hole in his shirt. He glanced down at his jeans, covered in dirt and mud and sawdust. Filthy. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness. It was hard not to feel like a mess next to her sometimes when she was always dressed so goddamn professional with her pressed slacks and tucked in shirts. Anyone who saw her would think she worked for some big corpo with a koi pond in the lobby. Not a Morton building with more garage than office space. 
“They didn’t show?” 
Teddy’s voice jolted his attention back to her face. Her lips were pinched, her cherry red fingernail was bleeding into his own pissed-off pen marks. He mentally cursed himself for being too wrapped up in his own stupid head to warn her about the concrete guys. Good going, idiot. 
There was nothing he could do about it now, except frown and shake his head. “They called and said-” 
“Let me guess, they’ll be there first thing tomorrow?” She bitterly scoffed, clipping the folder shut. The manila spine crunched under her grip before she abruptly turned away from him to face the wall of cabinets behind her. She never said it out loud that it bothered her, but clearly it did and rightfully so. 
Working here this long Joel had witnessed these same people treat her dad with respect only to now try and walk all over her. He found it complete and utter bullshit, but was it a surprise? Sadly, not really. Enough years around construction sites and his tinnitus resembled cat-calls more than a compressor. 
Still, he fucking hated it. His left eye flinched watching her file away the folder in silence. The protective lobe in his brain flared as his fingers curled and burned into a fist at his side. God – he wanted to go to Harry’s Concrete and give that bald loser a piece of his mind and maybe a black eye, but he didn’t. 
He wouldn’t. 
No – instead, he continued to bite his tongue until his mouth flooded with the taste of pennies. He’d become used to the tang of copper in his mouth after the roofers, the plumbers, even the electricians that tried her in the past. The only reason he held himself back was because of her. Because she asked him to let her deal with it, and she was perfectly capable of handling things herself. Better than him at it, in fact. 
Teddy slammed the drawer shut, rattling the entire cabinet. “I’m not gonna fire them.” 
“Okay,” he said without having to think twice. He didn’t expect her to fire them, honestly.  She’d explained to him before that she’d never burn bridges prematurely. The grass was not always greener on the other side, especially not in Texas. Especially not in this line of work. 
“Or - I should say I’m not going to fire them yet, anyway.” Her voice was steady – determined. “But one more and it’s over. I’m gonna let Harry know that he’s on his last strike when I call him tomorrow.” 
“Give ‘em hell,” he encouraged her. Whatever she said in those calls had, so far, been enough to whip everyone who crossed her into shape. Just once, he wished he could be a fly on the wall to witness her in action. She didn’t look particularly tough, but he imagined her being like an asp caterpillar, fuzzy and harmless until poked.
She didn’t linger on the topic, and instead asked about his day. He did the same. Neither had much to report outside the usual. 
“So, how was Sarah today? Did she talk your ear off about the homecoming dance coming up?” 
She giggled, gathering up the papers on her desk and stacking them into a neat pile in the corner. “How did you know?” 
“Cause she found out Monday, and hasn’t talked about anything else since.” 
“Oh and it’s only just begun,” she said with a smirk. “Welcome to your life for the next few weeks, Joel.” 
Joel scratched at the spot where his temple was already beginning to throb. Why did they have to announce it so early? It was great seeing Sarah so excited, but she kept asking him about his own first homecoming. He hated lying to her, but he couldn’t very well tell her the only thing he remembered was Rachel Borthwick and how she let him feel her up – the first boobs he ever touched – underneath the gymnasium bleachers. The thought of Sarah being that same age made him want to throw up. 
He swallowed the thought before it came out all over her desk. “Were you the same way at her age?” 
“Oh yeah. I’m sure if you asked my dad, he’d tell you I was worse.” She snorted, almost seeming embarrassed by her younger self. “For some odd reason, I had it built up in my mind that it’d be like that prom scene from Grease. Minus the broadcast and all that-” 
“Wait, your dance wasn’t on the news?” He tried to keep a straight face, but he was just as bad as his daughter. 
“Shut up.” She playfully shoved his arm and he rubbed it like it hurt. She rolled her eyes, but continued anyway. “My dad didn’t have the heart to tell me, so it was a pretty huge letdown when they didn’t even play Born to Hand Jive. I think I even requested it.” 
“How did you survive?” 
“It’s a miracle,” she said, and he huffed out a laugh. Three years later, and she still surprised him with every new story she chose to reveal. 
There was a split-second where the only sound in the room came from the buzzy-white fluorescent lights above him. Teddy stole a quick glance towards the hallway, as if checking if Sarah was back. She had still not reappeared and he wondered if Tommy had baited her into helping him unload the truck or maybe just sticking around to talk. 
Teddy clicked her fingernails on the counter in front of him. “Real quick, I wanted to ask,” she said before clearing her throat. “Have you and Sarah talked at all about dress shopping?” 
Joel shifted back a step, his boots scratching against the cheap, gray carpet. “Dress shopping?” He forced the words from his throat, then shook his head. He looked away, feeling a pit in his stomach that reminded him of Muffins for Mother’s Day in elementary school – Mommy & Me at the daycare. 
Again – dress shopping was another one of those things girls usually did with their mom’s, but Lisa wasn’t meant to be a mom. She’d even said so herself in the note she left next to her engagement ring on the day she vanished with their dog. Joel wished his own mom was still around to help fill in when the gaps felt too big for him, but sadly, she had passed away before Sarah turned 4. Since then, it’d only been just Tommy and him. 
“The only reason I ask is because,” Teddy started, clutching at the dainty gold chain around her neck, “Well, she sorta asked me to take her.” 
“Oh.” Joel didn’t know what else to say. Not that it offended him or anything petty like that. God no – he wasn’t delusional enough to think that he would be Sarah’s first choice when it came to fashion. After all, his idea of dressing up was a flannel and whatever jeans were clean. Teddy made a lot more sense than him. 
“I didn’t give her an answer, just so you know. I wanted to check with you first.” Her voice was rushed, slightly pitchy, and he realized this was the first time he’d ever seen her even remotely nervous. She must be just as cautious as him about crossing whatever line was supposed to exist in this…relationship? Dynamic? 
Joel smiled at her, softly, hoping to ease her anxiety. “Well, thank you,” he said and she appeared to relax at his calm tone. “I have no problems with you taking her, as long as you wanna do it.” 
“Of course, I want to, but are you - are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us if you want. We could all go together?” 
The offer was tempting, but he declined. He knew Sarah would enjoy it being just the two of them. It could be girl time or whatever. 
Teddy pulled out her planner to check on what dates would work best when Sarah came back in. Once she heard the good news, the victorious grin on her face somehow grew even bigger. The last time he saw her that excited was when he surprised her with tickets to Six Flags for her 11th birthday. 
Teddy and her started to discuss which stores to hit and what mall would be best, basically a foreign language to him. He should’ve started on closing duties, but instead he found his gaze drawn to Teddy. How she appeared equally as thrilled as Sarah. He always could tell when she was excited by the way she talked with her hands. That smile was downright infectious and – 
He noticed Sarah watching him. Her quizzical eyes were glued to his face. Shit. He was staring. Quick. Joel forced a smile at Sarah that hopefully said nothing-to-see-here. He didn’t stick around to wait for her reaction and instead, fled into his office. 
For a few minutes, he pretended to check over files and went down the list of closing duties, completely avoiding them until the only thing left was setting the alarm. Finally, he dared to look in their direction again. When he saw Sarah’s focus was entirely on Teddy, the tension drained from his shoulders. 
He thought he was in the clear. 
—-
“Dad, do you think Teddy’s pretty?” 
Joel’s head whipped up and a sharp, pointy fry was lodged into the back of his throat. It burned and stabbed its way down to his esophagus. For a second, he thought he was going to choke and die at his own dining room table from a McDonald’s fry. 
“What?” His voice crackled like sandpaper from holding in a cough. 
“She asked if you thought Teddy was pretty?” Tommy repeated, loud and clear with a smug grin that he didn’t even try to hide behind his Big Mac. 
Joel’s gaze flickered from one set of brown eyes to the next. He was cornered, his back against the bay window. No way out and no one to blame but himself for this mess. He was, after all, the dummy who got caught. 
Joel held up a waiting finger, then slowly sipped on his coke to calm his burning throat. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he wrapped his head around what to say. Lying was out of the question. It seemed more damning than the truth. 
The thing was – there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t like she was asking if he liked her. Not that he did like her. Well, maybe just a little. Just a teeny, tiny crush but it was nothing really. Stupid, honestly. For the most part, he could ignore it. 
Joel cleared his throat and gave a casual shrug. “Uh yeah, she’s uh - she’s pretty.” 
Despite his best attempt at cool, Sarah’s lips still flickered. Only the corners, as she continued to bathe her fries in a pool of ketchup. 
“Have you ever thought about - maybe asking her out?” 
A deep laugh barked in his ears and bounced around the tile floor like spiky ping pong balls. “Come on, Teddy’s way out of his league.” Tommy’s hand collided against his shoulder with a hard thwack. It slightly stung. 
But Joel didn’t take it too seriously. Tommy hassling him over Teddy was nothing new. Ever since she started working the front desk, it’d been Tommy’s favorite gag. In a weird way, Joel considered it a good thing that he saw it as one big joke. If Tommy had any idea about his silly crush, he would’ve kept his mouth shut instead of teasing him. Tommy might’ve been a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel. 
Sarah didn’t seem to care whether it was a joke or not and scolded her uncle from across the table. She gave him a hard glare before turning back to Joel. She blinked expectantly, not letting him out of this. 
Joel sighed. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t think so.” 
“Why not?” 
“Because.” He licked his teeth and sucked a stuck piece of meat from between his molars. There was a laundry list of reasons, but he went with the least complicated. “We work together.”
“So? Two teachers at my school are dating, and it’s no big deal. They didn’t even get in trouble.” 
“Wait,” Tommy piped in with a mouthful of bun and sauce. “Isn’t she dating someone?” 
Joel swallowed down the salty taste in his mouth, bitter like vinegar. He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 
“You think so?” Sarah looked at him with clear suspicion. “So, she didn’t tell you that.” 
“Well…no. But-” 
“Then, how do you know?” 
Joel crinkled the empty wrapper into a tight ball, then tossed it into the paper bag. “Somebody sent her flowers at work. Nice ones too.” Too grand to fit in her car, so instead they lived and died in the tiny break room directly across from his office. 
“When?” 
Three months. “I don’t know, not that long ago.” 
“Well, how do you know they weren’t from her dad?” Sarah asked, not backing down. “Or maybe her friends sent them?” 
Joel shook his head, recalling the stupid plastic holder that had poked out at him like a giant weed among the long stem roses. “The card said Happy Anniversary.” 
At that, Sarah sank into the chair like a deflated balloon. She shoved a whole chicken nugget into her mouth – no sauce. Each dry crunch-crunch grated against the silence. 
This recent interest in his love life was new. He wondered if it had something to do with her age or maybe all those rom-coms she watched. She’d never cared about him dating or – she did try to set him up once, a few months ago, with her best friend’s recently divorced mom, but when he shot it down she had quickly moved on. 
But she didn’t even finish her chicken nuggets. He noticed a faraway look in her eyes – his eyes, one of the only things she inherited from him. She was somewhere deep in her head, in that big brain of hers that definitely didn’t come from him. 
She did eventually perk up when Tommy brought up the new season of the Bachelor, but still wasn’t her usual self. So after Tommy left, Joel settled in beside her on the couch to watch Friends. This show was like her pacifier. Sick or just a bad day, one of Joey’s jokes could cheer her up instantly. 
Not today, though. A whole episode later, and she’d barely said a word. Barely laughed, which had him really concerned. He got the sense that whatever was bothering her was something bigger than just Teddy. 
“You’re quiet tonight.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and snugged her closer. She collapsed into him like a domino. Full cheeks squished against his shirt. She didn’t respond, and he didn’t press. Only can-laughter existed in the space between them. 
Laying like this reminded him of when she was a baby. So tiny, a full head of hair even then. She would fall asleep on his bare chest while waiting for Lisa to return home from work. Looking back, the signs had always been there that one day she would run. She’d practically lived at her job after her maternity leave was done. Hell, she didn’t even take the full 6 weeks. Post-partum, the doctor called it, it’ll get better in time. But it didn’t. There was no medication cocktail that could make her want this life – that could make her want to stay. 
“Can I ask you something?” Sarah’s eyes didn’t leave Phoebe and Monica. 
“Anything,” he murmured against her hair before placing a light kiss to the top of her head. She no longer smelled of Johnson & Johnson or desitin, but coconuts and lime. 
“Are you lonely?” 
Even with her feathery-soft tone, the words hit him like a sucker punch, square in the jaw. Where the hell did that come from? 
“Do I seem lonely?” The words left him like a reflex, automatic. It was the second time tonight she’d caught him off-guard. 
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her shoulders sliding along his t-shirt. “Are you?” 
Slowly Sarah lifted her head – her big eyes bore into him and when he could trace every concerned line on her young face, the guilt smothered him like wet mineral wool. It was his job to worry, not hers. 
He urgently shook his head. “No. Of course not.” 
She silently stared at him, squinting as if somehow it would give her Professor X’s ability to read his mind. Clearly, he did not convince her and so he tried again. Harder. 
“Sarah, listen. I am perfectly fine, alright?” He brushed a curly strand of hair from her face, firmly holding her gaze. “If I was lonely, I’d go do something with Uncle Tommy. He’s always asking me to do things after work-” 
“Why don’t you?” 
Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at her confusion. Of course, she wouldn’t understand. Teenagers always wanted to be out somewhere, doing something with their friends.
“Cause I’m old. And I’m tired. And honestly, I’d rather be home.” With you. The last part never slipped through the gap in his bottom teeth. He never wanted to make Sarah feel guilty for leaving him and living her life. 
“You’re such a hermit.” She nudged at his chest, a smile sweeping across her face. Exactly what he’d been missing. 
“I prefer homebody,” he corrected, making her burst into a giggling fit. He waited until she went quiet to say, “Either way - you ain’t gotta worry about me, alright?” 
Once again, her expression turned very serious. Her eyes darted once, twice, across his face. “Swear?” 
“On my life.”
Later that night, Joel laid awake in bed fighting to find a comfortable position. Even sprawling out in the middle didn’t work. The sheets were tangled around his legs, his feet – his thoughts equally twisted up from Sarah’s question earlier. 
Are you lonely? Was he? 
Joel had never considered himself to be lonely. Not really. Or not all the time, at least. For the most part, Sarah and work kept him busy enough that he never gave it much thought. 
If he did think about it though, he supposed crawling into bed alone every night could get a little depressing. He was still human, after all. Intimacy was a basic human need. It was just simple biology when he occasionally craved a soft touch or someone to talk with before drifting off to sleep. It’d been a long damn time since he experienced either of those things. 
Maybe Sarah was onto something. Maybe it was time for him to get back out there, but oh God. Just thinking about it made him light-headed. 
Where would he even start?
His last serious relationship was his only serious relationship. After Lisa left, there was hardly any time for that. Being a single dad, dating wasn’t his top priority. 
Sure, he’d managed to squeeze in a few first dates over the years, even less second ones, and he couldn’t for the life of him recall a third. If so, it’d been nothing worth remembering. 
Honestly, the only person he’d considered asking out recently was Teddy. It was just a dumb idea that crossed his mind sometime in late spring when too much tree pollen and dust mites must’ve gotten into his head. He’d luckily come to his senses and fast. A few short weeks later, those damn flowers showed up. 
If he was being honest, no one else really interested him. 
And how could they? 
It wasn’t even just about her looks, she was sweet and smart and surprisingly funny. Joking or not, Tommy was right – she was way out of his league and why was he thinking about this right now? Joel cleared his mind with a hard shake of his head. He needed to stop, get some sleep. He didn’t want to know what time it was already. Without looking at the clock, he flipped onto his side, fluffed his pillow, then shut his eyes. 
Within seconds, Teddy slithered back into his mind with her perfect smile, the delicious scent of her soap, and those jeans she would undoubtedly wear tomorrow. Casual Friday might actually be the death of him. Denim on her hips was seriously a sin.  
Just thinking of her fully-clothed ass made his cock twitch inside his boxers. Somehow that was enough to get him half-hard, the tip snagging over the soft-cotton. 
Joel groaned in unison with the bed springs as he flopped onto his back. His palms itched to reach down and squeeze at his cock for a little relief. But he resisted, and forced his mind to somewhere far less pleasant. Broken wires. Wrong-size headers. Clogged drains. A memory of her gripping a PVC pipe invaded his brain and suddenly, it was her small hands wrapped around him instead. How would she look on her knees for him? Would she be able to fit him all in her two hands? If not, would she use her – 
“Fuck.” Joel gritted his teeth and fisted at the comforter. Get a grip. 
He felt like he was going crazy. Probably from the lack of action outside of his own fist. It was finally catching up with him. Tommy did warn him this would happen and fuck – he hated when Tommy was right. 
Joel thought back to the last time he had sex and cringed. Two years ago, but the memory was tattooed in his brain just like the monarch butterfly on the random woman’s lower back. It happened at a sleazy bar where everyone knew Tommy by name. He’d taken too many shots of Wild Turkey, then found himself fucking the woman in a one staller, quick and sloppy, right next to a clogged toilet. Not his proudest moment. He’d go to the grave blaming the whole thing on Tommy, who treated their rare nights out like the bachelor party he was still pissed off that he didn’t get to throw. 
The truth was though, even before Joel’s current involuntary celibacy, his sex life had been relatively non-existent. 
He hadn’t had sex on a semi-consistent basis since his 20’s. A casual hookup with a lady named Amy, who lived in the same apartment complex as him. No-strings attached. An arrangement born out of pure convenience rather than desire or intense lust. She lived in the apartment below him, and once a week came up after Sarah went to sleep and left before the condom hit the trash can. No surprise it ended once he moved out, and ever since then, it’d been random hookups and one-night stands whenever Tommy and him went out for a night. 
Joel sighed and stared up at the moon-stain ceiling of his bedroom, careful not to make any sudden movements in hopes to fight down his erection. While still and quiet might’ve worked to spook a black bear, his boner was sadly proving more resilient. 
With every passing minute, the warm tingly feeling in his belly spread like weeds through his body. His fingertips down to his toes. Fully hard, now. It became clear ignoring it was useless. He would just have to get this over with, so he could get some sleep tonight. 
Joel forcibly kicked off his blankets, then shoved down his boxers. His cock thwacked against his stomach and the tip was already shiny. He preferred to do this in the shower to avoid a mess, the steady stream of water helping to cover up his dry, cracked hands better than saliva. But something was better than nothing. He spit into his hand until his mouth was dry, then wrapped it around his cock. 
Whether in the shower or in his bed, it didn’t matter, Joel always jerked off like it was a chore. Hard and fast strokes where he could barely catch his breath. No need for soft and sensual, just a tight fist to take the edge off. This way, he found it easier to keep his less than friendly thoughts of Teddy at bay. 
He tried his best not to think about Teddy while doing this because friends don’t imagine their friends while fucking their fist. And that was all she was, all she would ever be – a friend. If he could he wouldn’t have thought of anyone at all, but he needed someone to imagine to get off. 
Instead of Teddy, he pictured a cover model from a 90’s Penthouse Magazine that he’d found in the guest room after Tommy moved out. A pretty brunette with big natural tits, who he didn’t have to work with tomorrow. 
His room steadily filled with the wet slap of his hand, the low thrum of the oscillating fan as he pretended the nameless woman was riding him. He was brutally fucking his fist when the woman shape-shifted into Teddy. So abruptly that he could barely register that it was her taking him down to the hilt. Her rolling her hips. Her fingernails scratching over his ribs, his shoulders, his chest with a little smirk even more sinful than her tight jeans. 
“Shit,” Joel hissed when he realized, but too late – his hips surged forward as he came. So sudden, so fast, it almost gave him whiplash. 
Joel was not usually loud during sex, more of a grunter than anything else, but it had never been so vivid. So real. He could practically feel the wet-heat of her cunt clenching around him. He had to snag his bottom lip between his teeth to keep every needy and desperate sound from bleeding out of his mouth as his cock pulsed and throbbed against his palm. He wouldn’t let himself find out what her name tasted like when he moaned. 
Clearly, this was not the first time she’d popped into his mind and he doubted it would be the last. He wouldn’t feel nearly as bad about it either, but there was a fuck-ton of cum on his stomach. Even a little on his chest. Fuck – he came so hard it made him lightheaded. 
He let the shame simmer down and once he caught his breath, he carefully dug out a travel-pack of Kleenex from his nightstand. He didn’t even wanna count how many tissues it took to wipe the syrupy-hot evidence from his skin. 
He’d be sticking to the shower from now until forever. 
The days had come and went and over a week later, Joel had not jacked off again. Not in the shower, and definitely not in his bed. But that had nothing to do with Teddy. Seriously. It was just a coincidence. 
Work had picked up. The heat wave had died out, giving way to more 80 degree days. Fall was fast approaching, by far their busiest season. There was a brand new neighborhood of bland cookie-cutter slab houses that had him working doubles everyday and judging by today, this week would be the exact same way. 
The streets were dark and mainly deserted by the time Joel dropped Tommy off at his apartment complex. Joel glanced at his phone – once again – for any missed calls before heading home. Still nothing. No new voicemails – 0 messages. 
The first and last time he heard from Sarah was after Teddy picked her up from school, right before heading into the mall. He’d told Sarah to call him once Teddy dropped her off, but she must’ve forgot. The same way she always forgot to lock the front door. He would be home in less than 5 minutes or else he would’ve called. But he would rather give her a talking-to in person. 
For a second, he wondered if she and Teddy were still at the mall, but it was late. Nearly 9. 
No one could spend 5 hours there. Hell, he could barely spend more than 2 without going stir-crazy. 
The last thing he expected when pulling onto his street was to see Teddy’s car parked in front of his house. The pearly white shell was perfectly lit up underneath a street light. 
What was she doing here?
He thought she would drop Sarah off and dip after their shopping trip, but obviously not. Dear God, he hoped she wasn’t waiting on him. Joel whipped into his driveway and hopped out without bothering to grab his tool box in the back. 
Inside, the living room was lit up with every lamp turned on, but otherwise empty. It was still tidy from the cleaning he did on Sunday, thankfully. He threw his keys on the console table, shutting the front door with his foot. He heard movement upstairs and headed that way. 
“Sarah,” he called out, mainly to give a heads-up and not scare them. “I’m home.” 
“Finally,” Sarah said as he stepped into her room. It smelled like that Body Works store at Barton Creek that Sarah loved, but always had him leaving with a headache. 
He stayed close to the fresh air and leaned against the door frame. Sarah was perched at her vanity, the counter in front of her completely buried under make-up, nail polish, and a bunch of other crap. 
“Teddy’s helping me decide what to wear with my dress.” Sarah swiveled around in her stool to face him. 
“Yeah, I see that.” Joel looked over at Teddy, who was standing behind Sarah with an earring pinched in each hand. The smile on her face was genuine. If she was in any real hurry to leave she didn’t show it. “When did y’all get back?” 
“I don’t know. 8:15? 8:20? Somewhere around there.” Sarah shared a shrug with Teddy. A little over thirty minutes, not bad. With the mess, he would’ve thought closer to an hour. 
“Dinner took a bit longer than I thought it would,” Teddy explained and his brows furrowed. 
“Busy night at the food court or something?” 
He noticed Sarah and Teddy share a secretive glance, and of course, they didn’t eat at the food court. He should’ve known better than to think Teddy would just take her to Sbarro. But out of every chain restaurant – did she have to pick the damn Cheesecake Factory?
Sarah was raving over the Mac & Cheese balls that definitely cost more than the 10 dollars he sent for baked ziti. Judging by the amount of shopping bags in the corner, Sarah had used her extra spending money on clothes instead of Chicken Costoletta. 
He waited until Sarah turned her back to nail Teddy with a knowing look. She swatted it away like a bothersome fly. She could be so damn stubborn sometimes. 
Later, he would deal with it. Money was not a topic he liked to discuss in front of Sarah. Besides, there were more important things at the moment. 
“So, are you gonna show me this dress of yours?” 
Sarah eagerly nodded and bounced over to her bed, picking up the black garment bag. It didn’t even allow him a peek at the color, not even when she hugged it tightly to her chest. 
“Well, come on - don’t leave me hanging. I’ve been waiting all night.” 
“Dad, you gotta see it on me or else you won’t get the full-effect,” she sassed, a duh implied in her tone. “Go downstairs, you and Teddy can wait-”
“Now, hold on there Sarah. It’s - it’s getting pretty late,” he pointed out, and Sarah’s fraying smile told him that she knew what he was trying to say. He hated disappointing her, but this was the right thing to do. “So Teddy, if you need to go home, don’t feel like you gotta stay.” 
Selfishly, Joel wanted her to stay, but why would she? She had already seen the dress, already given up her entire evening for Sarah. This was a free out, and he expected her to take it. 
Instead, She crossed her arms over her chest like a defiant child. “No way you’re getting rid of me that easily, Joel,” she said. “I’m sticking around to see your reaction.” 
Without giving him a chance to respond, she slid past him, her chest brushing against his arm. She motioned him to follow and he did without question. 
She led the way downstairs as if she’d been here before. But the few times she’d come by before to drop off paperwork she never made it past the front porch. 
His pulse slightly hiked up seeing her in his living room for the first time. Her gaze scanning the camel-colored walls, the pictures of Sarah throughout the years, his guitar that he rarely found time to play. Above the DVD and CD rack was the only real piece of art in the room – if that’s what people would call the painting of waves he’d found at a garage sale, the same one where he got the mismatched pillows on the couch. 
Interior design wasn’t his strong suit, but he was still proud of his home. Proud of himself for buying it on his own, for being able to prove this kind of place for his kid. All of this, from the rug to every decoration and lamp. It was best attempts to make this space feel homey – lived in for Sarah’s sake. She would not be the only kid in class growing up in a bachelor pad. 
“So, this is Joel Miller’s house?” Teddy spun around to face him and he found that she looked really good next to his coffee table. “It’s nice. I like it.” 
“Yeah?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, toeing the tile-carpet line that separated the kitchen from the living room. 
“Especially the Cowboys decor.” She pointed her thumb at the framed blue star logo that was hung up by the stairs. “Did you know I used to wanna be a cheerleader for them?”
Joel’s mouth went drier than when eating pretzels. He rapidly shook his head, mainly to erase the mental image of her in that skimpy little outfit. It would probably haunt him in his dreams for the rest of his life. 
He cleared his throat and took a seat on the couch. “I’m surprised Sarah didn’t give you a tour.” 
“Oh, she did.” Teddy plopped down on the couch with him, keeping a friendly distance of a cushion. “But don’t worry, the grand tour didn’t include your bedroom. She said that was off limits.” She puckered her bottom lip, pouting as if actually disappointed. 
“Trust me, you’re not missing much.” 
“But isn’t that where the magic happens?” 
Joel accidentally let out a snort. Magic. Nothing close to magic had ever happened in that room, unless what he did last week counted. “I think you’ve been watching too much Cribs.” 
Her lips parted, her eyes lit up with a wild look of amusement. “Does Joel Miller secretly watch MTV?” 
“Only against my will.” He jerked his chin towards the stairs. “She loves all that shit.” 
“Yeah. She did talk a lot about True Life while at din…ner.” Teddy clipped her lips together, catching her slip. 
“Trust me, I didn’t forget.” His tone carried a smug edge, making her huff in annoyance.  “So, how ‘bout you tell me how much I owe you for it?” 
“You don’t owe me anything.” 
“Teddy,” he warned. Still, she insistently shook her head, refusing to make things easy for him. 
“Sorry, but I can’t let you pay me back,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right.” 
“Really? How come?” 
She straightened her posture, the brown leather groaning underneath her. “Well, for one - it was my decision to take her there, wasn’t it?” 
“So?” 
“So, it doesn’t make sense for you to have to pay for something I decided, now does it?” 
Joel licked his teeth at her loop-hole logic. She was eyeing him with a very serious expression, as if this wasn’t over 30? 35 bucks? Hell, there was probably enough in his wallet right now to cover it. 
If this were anyone else, Joel would’ve already said fuck this and drained his wallet of every nickel and dime, just to be safe. He wouldn’t accept no for an answer because he didn’t need anyone’s help or handout. He made enough money to support not only himself, but his daughter perfectly fine. Thank you. 
But this wasn’t just anyone – this was Teddy. Whether it was because she did his payroll or because she was so bullheaded, he didn’t know, but she had a funny way of making him fold. 
“Secondly.” She lifted a second finger before he could raise the white flag. “It wouldn’t be right for you to pay me back for your own gift.” 
Huh? “Gift?” 
She hummed in response. “There might be a little early birthday present waiting for you in the fridge.” 
He couldn’t remember the last time someone, other than Sarah, got him a birthday present. Most of the time, not even Tommy did; his presence was the present or whatever bullshit he said. But she’d thought of him. Him. The idea made his chest begin to swell like metal on a blazing summer day. He ducked his head to hide the heat rising in his cheeks. 
“You didn’t need to get me any-” 
Teddy grasped his arm, instantly turning the rest of his sentence into sawdust. His gaze flickered from her hand on his forearm, to her eyes. She really was beautiful, especially in the warm pool of lamp light in his living room. 
“I wanted to,” she assured him with a voice as soft as her touch. Her thumb gently skimmed over his arm hair and he held back a shiver with the clench of his teeth. “It’s just Classic Vanilla Bean Cheesecake. A little boring, but Sarah said that’s your favorite.”
“It is.” His voice cracked like a pre-teen and embaressed, he averted his eyes. How ridiculous. He needed to get a grip. Pull himself together. He was acting like a fucking virgin. Joel swallowed and stiffly nodded. “Thank you.” 
She gave his arm a small squeeze before pulling away. The spot where she touched him still tingled, still burned. 
“It’s the least I could do, since I’ll be missing it.” 
Joel brushed her off with an easy wave of his hand. Other than work, he didn’t have any plans, so she really wasn’t missing anything. “I think you’ll have more fun in Phoenix, anyway.” 
“Just don’t let Tommy set the place on fire while I’m gone.” 
“Do you have that little faith in me?” he asked – teased. It was only a few days. Leaving Thursday, back in the office by the following. 
She lightly nudged his arm, just as a door opened. 
“Are you ready?” Sarah called out, and his focus shifted to the bottom of the stairs. 
“I was born ready, kiddo. So, come on, let’s see it.” Joel drummed his hands excitedly against his thighs. 
Waiting there reminded him of the fashion shows she used to put on for him. She’d wait at the top of the stairs until he popped in the Whitney Houston CD. For the big finale, they would dance around the living room to I Wanna Dance With Somebody. 
But Sarah didn’t appear in a bright-pink princess costume, but instead a pretty little purple dress. Her heels were real, not made out of cheap plastic or from the Dollar Tree. His little girl looked so grown up. The realization that she was grown up made the back of his eyes burn. 
Joel scrubbed a hand down his slack, scruffy jaw, watching Sarah twist from side-to-side. The shiny material swished around her knees. 
“Baby girl, you look - beautiful,” he said without trying to hide the crackle in his voice. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 
Sarah giggled, almost bashfully. “That’s exactly what Teddy said.” 
“Well, that’s because it’s the truth,” Teddy stated earnestly. Sarah’s entire face lit up and God –  she had such a killer smile. He would never get tired of seeing it.
When Sarah pulled back her hair to show Teddy two different pairs of earrings, she immediately went over to get a closer look. 
Discussing jewelry and lip gloss, Sarah’s shiny wide eyes clung to her every word as if it was wrapped in gold, as if it held some infinite wisdom. It suddenly hit him that he’d never seen Sarah look at anyone like that. Not her favorite teacher. Not her best friend’s mom. Not even Mrs. Adler who lived next door and used to babysit her after school. 
Poor Mrs. Adler, she meant well but Sarah and her could not have been more different. Thinking about it, Teddy was the first woman that Sarah shared anything in common with, who she didn’t have to share with the rest of the class or came second to a friend. 
For once, Sarah had some special bond for herself. 
His breath caught in his throat watching Teddy fuss with Sarah’s dress. Her eyes barely leaving Sarah’s bright face as she untwisted a strap and smoothed out a few spots in the back. For a second, he imagined her here with them every night – thought about how seamlessly she would fit into their lives. 
Holy shit - what the fuck is he doing? Stop it. 
Joel forced himself to look away, pruning those thoughts before they grew. The light, liquid warmth in his chest ran cold. It turned into mercury when it settled in his belly. 
Luckily, Sarah and Teddy were too preoccupied with finishing details to notice him obsessively picking at his fingernails. He didn’t know what got a hold of him.
This was insane. She was his friend, his business partner, and whatever she was to Sarah that was more important than a stupid crush. No – he would not complicate a good thing with his feelings. Feelings she didn’t reciprocate. For God sake, she was dating someone else. Get over it. 
Joel thought it might be a good thing that Teddy would be gone for a few days. More than ever, he needed some distance. Some time to help screw his head back on straight. 
Too early on Tuesday morning, Joel sleepily fought the coffee machine until dark liquid gurgled and spewed into the pot. 
“Have you heard from Teddy at all?” Tommy asked as Joel filled up a to-go cup. 
“Oh yeah, hear from her every night before going to sleep.” 
“Really?” 
Joel shoved the coffee pot back inside its home, and blinked at Tommy. “Of course not. She’s on vacation. Why would she call me?” 
He figured she’d brought whoever she was dating on the trip with her. They were probably going to her cousin’s wedding, meeting her college roommates new baby while he was here - in Texas. Alone. When he thought about it like that, it put everything into some much needed perspective. 
Joel didn’t give Tommy a chance to respond before barging out and heading to the garage. He still was not used to seeing her empty desk instead of her warm smile, telling him to have a good day. 
“So, do you miss her, yet?” Tommy asked while loading up the truck. 
“She’s only been gone a few days,” Joel snorted, as if it was a ridiculous question to ask. “Why? Do you miss her?” 
“Miss her coffee, that’s for damn sure.” He grimaced at the cup before taking a tentative sip. “Shit sucks. You add too much water.” 
“I’d like to see you do any better.” Joel obnoxiously slurped on his drink, then winced. It did kinda taste like dirt. “She does make it better,” he conceded. “It’ll be nice to have her back.” 
The distance had been a good thing for him, though. It was much easier for him to think without her dizzying perfume. What happened in his living room had been just a moment of weakness, of panic. Blown completely out of proportion. 
The thing was – he’d always had a crush on her. It was nothing new, and he was perfectly happy with just this. With never being anything more than friends – her in his life, that was enough for him. 
It had to be. 
“Well, speaking of Thursday.” Tommy spoke in a tone that almost always meant he wanted something. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I gotta leave work early that day.” 
“Why? Got an appointment or something?” 
Tommy shook his head, then spewed a sob story that lasted nearly the entire drive to the site. His buddy Aaron had just broken up with his cheating girlfriend, and needed help moving out of their apartment. Too bad it wasn’t a different one of Tommy's military buddies or Joel would’ve immediately said no, but Aaron actually wasn’t a douchebag. 
“Well, what time would you leave? Cause we gotta finish that block by Friday-”
“She works the night shift, so not until like 3 or 4,” he said, swaying him further. “And Aaron said he’ll pick me up from the site, so you ain’t gotta do anything.” 
Joel shrugged, whatever. Fine. They would just have to work late tonight and tomorrow. 
—-
So far, Thursday had not gone at all like Joel had anticipated. His reunion with Teddy this morning was disappointingly quick. It wasn’t like he expected her to run into his arms and hug him or anything dramatic like that, but he did think it would be more than just a few minutes of small talk where Tommy dominated most of the conversation with his plans for later. 
Which turned out to be total bullshit by the way. 3 to 4 ended up being more like 1:30, ruining his chance to see Teddy this evening. The inspectors would be here tomorrow morning, so the frame had to be finished tonight with or without an extra set of hands. 
Now, at 6:30, Joel was just leaving the site. He picked up Wendy’s to make up for his crummy day, only for the burger to be loaded with pickles and onions when he specifically asked for ketchup only. He still scarfed it down, along with a medium dry on the drive back to shop where the only thing that would be waiting for him was an empty office and a fat-ass stack of paperwork. Some supply sheets that could hopefully be knocked out before Sarah needed to be picked up later. 
He pulled in through the back entrance and was taking his sweet time unloading the truck. Lowly humming Wedding Bells by the great Hank Williams when the door opened with a screech. The sound echoed around the steel walls of the garage and he jerked, nearly dropping a nail gun on his foot. Somehow, he managed to catch it just before it slid off the rack. 
He turned around and - “Teddy?” 
“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” she said in a sweet drawl that made his pulse race for an entirely different reason. 
He stared at her dumbly, blinking rapidly to make sure this was not just his imagination. She was still here. He wet his throat with a hard swallow. “You surprised me.” 
“I can tell.” She giggled and embarrassment swarmed his neck like fire ants. He couldn’t believe she just witnessed him flail around like an idiot. He promptly went back to gathering up the last of the wooden boards and stacking them in the corner. “Did you not see my car out front?” 
“I came in off 77th,” he explained, brushing the dust from his hands onto his jeans. 
“I could’ve helped.” She leaned against the door, opening it wider as he walked over. 
“Nah, I got it,” he said with a casual shake of his head. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin that shirt, anyway.” His eyes dipped over the satiny material, this time a deep maroon.
“It is a great shirt.” She playfully bumped into his side with her shoulder when he stepped inside. The delicious scent of her soap sent an electric jolt up his spine. He matched her steps down the hallway. “What’re you still doing here anyway?” 
“Well, there’s the Fox Ridge pitch tomorrow and there’s two more next week. And I have been gone for like a week.” She tucked herself back behind her desk. “Remember?” 
Oh yeah, he remembered. 
For a few minutes, they caught up on work and talked about homecoming, which was Saturday, and Sarah, who was currently at her friend’s house making posters or whatever for the big game tomorrow. He asked if she enjoyed her trip, which she obviously did from the glow around her. He almost asked about the wedding until he noticed all the files on her desk, the neat stacks of paper labeled with post-it notes that clearly showed she was busy. 
He decided not to be selfish and take up anymore of her time and instead went into his office. 
“Let me know if you need anything,” she told him before he closed the door. He left it slightly cracked in a way that seemed inviting before taking a seat at his desk. He would’ve just left it wide open if he thought it would be possible to focus. But even the back of her head could be enough to distract him. 
Just like the rest of the shop, his office had been recorated by Teddy when Danny retired. He’d actually offered her the office, multiple times, but she refused. She preferred the natural light in the front, and he couldn’t blame her when the one window in here was puny and overlooked the trash cans. 
Without her, Joel would’ve left the walls as blank and as white as Danny, the bookshelves just as bare and dusty, and there wouldn’t be a single lamp, let alone two. But he definitely appreciated the lamps this late in the day when the overhead light would burn too loud and bright. 
Supposedly, she’d gotten them for free from a friend that was moving. He’d believed the story, at first, until one day she showed up with a giant picture of Yellowstone River, two more of different landscapes. A Golden forest. A mountain range. She’d just stumbled upon them at a Goodwill for the same price as a pizza. And then she’d filled the bookcases that framed his desk with architectural books that would likely never be read and tiny fake plants, which he couldn’t kill. Those she’d claimed were found at a garage sale for the magical price of a gift card to her favorite nearby lunch spot. 
She would’ve decorated the office for her dad if he would’ve let her. Danny didn’t care though if she found the space so depressing when it came down to money. But Joel could not find it in him to tell her no when she looked so damn pleased with herself afterwards. She’d done such a nice job that he wished he could use the office more. One day he probably would when Sarah moved out. He had a love-hate relationship with being home alone. The quiet could be peaceful, then other times forlorn. 
After finishing up two supply lists for upcoming projects, Joel went to start on a third when his door jarred open with a soft knock. Teddy was hovering around the threshold with a file in one hand. 
“Are you busy?” 
Joel shook his head, shoving the folder aside then signaling her to come in. She stepped inside, nudging the door shut with her hip. It didn’t latch. No one else was here, otherwise he would’ve pointed it out. But he didn’t know why she shut it in the first place, honestly. 
“Sorry to bother you-” 
“You’re not bothering me,” he interrupted. “What can I do for you?” 
“It’s the Fox Ridge pitch.” She sauntered over to his desk, hips swaying and squeezed into a pair of black jeans. Her shirt was gaping open in the front from the top two buttons being left undone and wasn’t it just one earlier? It was always one, right? 
He realized it would’ve been easy to catch a peek of her bra when she bent over to hand him the file, but like a good person – like a good friend – he looked away. His gaze remained firmly fused to her face until she sat down in the chair across from him. 
She wanted his thoughts on the pitch, and he agreed to take a look. Based on the first page it looked perfect, and even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be much help. After all, she was the brains of the operation where he was just the muscle. 
“So, how was the wedding?” Joel flipped onto the next page without looking up. “Your cousin’s right?” 
“Good memory.” She hummed, sounding pleasantly surprised. Her nails clicked along the steel arm of the chair. “But yeah, the wedding was… it was nice.” 
“Was it?” Joel glanced up at her with a suspiciously quirked brow. “Cause, you ain’t gotta lie to me. I won’t tell.” 
She clicked her tongue as if her reluctant tone wasn’t what led him to such a conclusion.
“I’m not lying, it was really nice. A lot of family that I haven’t seen in a while was there. And my cousin has amazing taste, so the wedding was gorgeous. It was small and intimate, but.” She let out a big breath. “It’s just everyone except my dad and I had dates.” 
“Did you not bring your-” Too late, the words had poured out before he could think twice and he cursed his stupid, overly curious mind. He had no idea what to say to cover up his lapse, so he just didn’t. It just hung in the air and he turned to the next page without reading the last. 
“Bring my what, Joel?” Her voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question. He peered up at her and she looked him directly in the eyes. It was as if she knew what he was going to say. It was as if she wanted him to ask. 
Joel screwed the blue pen into his grip. “I thought - I thought you had a boyfriend.” 
At that, she reclined back in the chair. She crossed her legs and tilted her head as if to study him. “What made you think I have a boyfriend?” she asked with such wild amusement that it confused him. 
Didn’t she? Tommy had seen the card, the flowers as well, so it wasn’t something he just made up in his head. She was or used to be dating someone. Oh – maybe it wasn’t a boyfriend, but a girlfriend. Not that he was about to ask. God no. He’d butted into her personal life enough for one night. 
“Well, you know.” Joel scratched the back of his head, then pointed in the direction of the break room. “There were those flowers, remember?” 
Her eyes widened – her lips parted. “Yeah, I remember. I just, I guess I didn’t think you would.” 
“Well, it ain’t everyday someone gets a garden delivered here.” He meant it as a joke, but it came off rather jealous. He tacked on a chuckle for good measure. She snorted, so it must’ve worked. 
“Okay fair. I was dating someone, but that’s over. Been over. We broke up like 4 months ago? So, not long after that, actually.” 
Joel grimaced. He could barely focus on her being single when he felt like shit. No one wanted to be reminded of their ex. “I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be.” She brushed off like it was no big deal. 
Still, he remained silent as the grave because what the hell was he supposed to say now? 
“I was the one who ended things, just in case that makes you feel better.” Of course she was. No one in their right mind would break up with someone as amazing as her. “But since we’re on the topic and all - what about you, Joel?” 
“What about me?” Joel finally met her eyes and her lips twisted into a mischievous smirk that made his stomach swoop. 
“Do you have anyone special in your life?”
Joel stiffly shook his head. “Can’t say I do.”  
“Anyone not special?” she nudged him, suggestively wiggling her brows. 
Again – a shake of his head. “I don’t really date.” 
“What a shame.” Her voice was almost husky, breathy. She leaned forward slightly. “I’m sure all the single mom’s at Sarah’s school are devastated.” 
Joel batted his hand in the air with an ugly snort. 
“What? I’m serious,” she said without twitching. Her eyes momentarily flickered towards his lips, and suddenly, his throat felt like the mostly burnt bagel he had for breakfast. “I bet you have all of them wrapped around your finger.” 
“You’re just - you’re just saying that.” 
“Am I?” Her voice was silky, even silkier than her shirt. There was a cool confidence radiating from her as her fingernails galloped in a slow rhythm along the arm rest. 
She was staring at him, pinning him against his seat. The hair on his thighs lifted and tickled the denim. The energy in the room had shifted, the air between them had bent and blurred into something that Joel could not quite describe. But he could feel it, sense it when it surged and rippled between them and sent an electric shiver up his spine. 
She licked her lips and rolled them together until they were shiny with her spit. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal trapped and he wanted to pounce over the desk and taste her spit. He nearly did until he felt a stirring in his jeans. 
What the hell was going on? What was he thinking? He needed to get his head screwed back on straight before he did something incredibly stupid. 
Joel shot from his chair like a firework. Abrupt and loud and white-hot. He turned away and towards the filing cabinets on the back wall. He didn’t have a plan, but there had to be something in there that he could pretend to need. 
She was quicker than his flustered brain and rose to her feet before he could make it past the edge of his desk. 
“Joel.”
It stopped him, his feet stuck to the floor like wet cement. She approached him like a frightened deer. Steady. So quiet. Her steps barely scratched against the cheap carpet. 
Joel realized now, right now was the time to speak. To say something. Anything. Find an excuse. Stop standing here like a dumb-struck baboon. But there was only one word that managed to leave his lips, a breath - 
“Teddy.” 
“It’s okay,” she whispered into the shrinking space between them. “I know.” 
I know? He had no clue what that was supposed to mean, but before he could ask – she cradled the back of his neck and pressed her lips against his. Joel’s eyes widened and all he could see was the soft planes of her face, her fluttering eyelids, the fan of her raven-stroke lashes. 
She was kissing him. Holy shit. She was actually kissing him. When he finally registered that, he closed his eyes and was overcome by the taste of her spit and a hint of Burt’s Bees chapstick, which he found oddly arousing. 
For a moment, he was too damn stunned to do anything but move his mouth along hers. Then, he realized his arms were hanging like spaghetti noodles at his side and reached out and clutched onto her waist. His thumbs delicately swirled the fabric of her shirt. So damn smooth, just as he expected. 
Joel gulped when she drew back, just far enough to meet his eyes. He had no idea what the fuck this was – let along if it was anything at all. Perhaps, this was it. Just a stolen kiss, late one night in his office. 
Joel braced himself for her to yank away, to tell him it was a mistake, that she didn’t know what she was thinking. Let’s forget the whole thing. 
But she didn’t. 
She just continued to toy with the curly ends of his hair, twirling them around her fingers as her other hand fisted the loose collar of his shirt. He was wedged between her warm-heaving body and his desk. The edge was slightly burrowing into his lower back, but currently he couldn’t care less. 
Her gaze dipped to where his jeans were painfully tented. A hot burst of shame ignited behind his earlobes. The flex of his fingers bit into the hollow below her ribs. 
“It’s - it’s been a while,” he found himself explaining because there was no good reason, at his age, to be this turned on from just kissing. 
“Do you want me to stop?” She slid up against him, sealing herself against his chest. It appeared she knew the answer before he could dumbly shake his head. 
This time – his lips met hers somewhere in the middle. Where the first kiss was gentle, testing the waters like the first sip of fresh coffee, this one was deeper. More intense – a whole gulp. Her urgent lips captured his starstruck mouth and right then he knew nothing, no one, would ever compare to this. Not even close. 
The way she kissed was like some special art form that only she could master. It felt so damn good to have her fingers molding through his hair with baby scratches over his scalp and the scent of her soap flooding his chest with heat. It consumed him, his body, his mind. The rapid pulse in his ears muted his every coherent thought.
When she gently nibbled on his bottom lip, he moaned – Teddy. She licked her name from his lips, then eagerly tasted it on his tongue as if she couldn’t get enough. 
And oh God – her tongue was equally as impressive as her other skills. The tip of it dragged over his top palate, making it tingle like a buzz off tequila. She stroked and swirled and twisted around his tongue as if knotting a cherry stem. No one had ever taken the time to explore him so thoroughly. Frankly, he didn’t know there was that much of his mouth to explore. 
Despite her exploration, Joel’s hands were burning into her waist, still holding her at 10 and 2 like a student driver. Like this was a chaperoned middle school dance. Slowly he roamed them down to grip her hips, but no further. He didn’t want to push it. He didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want to spoil this moment from something stupid like getting too greedy. 
Joel was fully okay with her in the driver seat. Even though he was usually in charge, he was happily letting her lead. Well, actually, he didn’t know if he was really letting her or if she just was. He didn’t care either way when she was touching him. 
She broke the kiss and her lips swerved to his cheek. His jaw, paying extra attention to the patch in his beard where no hair could grow. His head tipped back when she buried her nose into the crook of his neck and deeply inhaled. After a hard-days work he likely smelled of sweat instead of his soap, but she groaned anyway. 
“Have you ever thought about this before?” She breathed against his neck. 
“I mean, I-” He choked on his words as her tongue slicked over the thick vein beneath his jaw. “I - I tried not to.” 
“But you did.” He could feel her lips split into a grin before she sucked on a spot below his ear. He hoped it would leave a mark. The idea of seeing it tomorrow in the mirror made his cock twitch and throb and it ached. 
“Uh-huh,” he whimpered, rather pathetically. It actually sounded like it fucking hurt. 
“You know what?” She playfully nipped at the spot that would soon sadly fade. She then met his gaze with a coy grin. I thought about you too.” 
“You did?” he croaked. 
She hummed in response, her fingers trailing down his chest. His stomach quivered, his breath catching before she stopped just above the band of his jeans and whispered, “But unlike you - I didn’t try to stop.” 
Joel growled, unable to form a coherent thought. His brain was too preoccupied trying to process how any of this was happening. It had to be a dream or an optical illusion or some shit. No way it could be real. But her small hand cupped his cock and that certainly felt real. 
“Fuck - you feel even bigger than I imagined.” She palmed at his bulge with a light pressure. His knees nearly buckled despite the thick, denim barrier. 
Now, he was really wishing he jerked off last night – or anytime in the past week or so. God – he was pent up. It wouldn’t take much for him to break. 
“Can I see it?” 
Joel’s mouth went half-slack and she blinked at him without flinching. 
“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out. Not great, but at least coherent. 
She sank to her knees, her eyes never leaving his. Pretty. Pretty. So damn pretty. Those two undone buttons exposed the tops of her breasts, the peek of a plain white bra that he found sexier than he should’ve. 
His restless hands found solid ground on the desk behind him. Just in time as she balled the hem of his shirt in her tiny fists and bunched it towards his waist. The office air blew cool over his newly bare skin. 
Joel wondered how he compared to the type of guy she usually dated. Did she like meatheads with six packs? Or guys with scrawny arms? Or did she like them somewhere in the middle; someone more like him? His body used to be more solid in his 20’s, but softened with age. He was still strong though, still firm in most spots aside from his stomach. 
He caught himself sucking in as her wild eyes wandered over his husk-tan skin and across the dark scatter of hair around his navel. Then, she devoured it, mapping every inch with her wet, hot mouth. 
It was a miracle that he managed to stay upright under her attention. Any attention was new. He was not used to any teasing or foreplay or whatever delicious torture this was called. 
No. 
Joel was used to his own calloused hands. Quick, rough fucks with women who called him Joe or Jack or something else entirely because why did it matter if it meant nothing. 
But did this mean anything? To him, yes. To her – he had no clue. Dear God – he hoped so, though. 
With a smirk she unzipped his jeans and shoved them down by his knees. The wet spot on his boxers was impossible to miss. Of course, he’d worn light gray today instead of something discreet like black. 
“It’s been awhile,” he sheepishly reminded her. He didn’t want her to think he was always this big of a mess. Because he wasn’t. Seriously, he really wasn’t. 
“It’s alright, just relax.” She leaned forward and mouthed at the stain. 
But it was impossible to relax when her nose nudged the underside of his cock, her mouth was so close to the tip that every muscle in his body tightened. He gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring with the remnants of his dwindling self-control. 
She must’ve realized she was ruining him because she pulled back with a wicked grin. She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband and tugged. His freed cock nearly smacked her in the face. The flush red tip was weeping. 
“Shit, you’re thick,” she gasped. Women had told him that before, but he much preferred hearing it from her. The sweet honesty in her voice, the clear surprise. It stroked his ego and filled him with a strange sense of pride as if he’d actually accomplished anything profound, and not just good genetics. 
She licked and spit into her palm before stroking his cock with a loose fist from root to tip. Her thumb swiped over the blunt head, smearing his pre-come and making his hips jerk and involuntary spasm. 
Joel opened his mouth to apologize, but was quickly silenced by her tongue: warm, wet, the slightly rough texture tracing over the thick vein that ran down his length. 
He gripped the desk until his knuckles bleached. She placed her free hand on his hip as if to help steady him before guiding him between her perfect, plush lips. Just the tip, at first. But it still was nearly enough to finish him. He didn’t remember the last time someone put their mouth on him. 
Joel desperately wished to witness this moment. He wanted to memorize the glossy gleam in her eyes, the way she looked in front of him and on her knees and how her mouth stretched perfectly around his cock. But it was too much. The weight between his thighs was becoming oppressive. If he watched, he’d shatter. And he’d be horrified if he finished that fast. 
So, he focused on the ceiling tiles instead. On the black specks that formed different shapes as she took another inch of him into her feverish mouth. 
Already, she had him panting like a dog. Unable to fully catch his breath even when she released his cock with a loud pop. She continued to pleasure him with long strokes of her fist. Her tongue dipped into his leaking slit, lighting up nerve endings that he didn’t know existed. It ripped an ungodly sound from his mouth. 
“Oh, you liked that?” she asked, very smug. Then repeated the movement once, twice, before eagerly swallowing his cock again. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hand flew to her shoulder and squeezed as she took him deeper – deeper. Holy shit. Where did she learn to do this? This was like pornstar level good. 
She had taken him halfway down her throat when he felt a shock run across his spine, a familiar tugging in his balls. His release was building and brewing in his lower belly like a thunderstorm. 
But Joel clenched his teeth. No – he could not come. Not yet. He needed to get himself under control before he finished in less than five minutes. 
He shut his eyes, but not even the rumble of his eardrums could drown out the loud, lewd squelch of her mouth. It was fucking filthy. The swirl of her expert tongue around his shaft had him unraveling fast like a loose spool of thread. 
“Teddy,” he moaned her name as he got close – too damn close. 
He tried to tell her to slow down, but the words stuck in his throat. Nothing came out except grunts. Just short groans. Her lips kissed the cusp of her fist, completely engulfing him in her honey-slobber and the softness of her hand. 
His hips instinctively bucked, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat and she gagged. The walls of her inner mouth shuddered and pulsed around him and – 
“Shit.” His eyes flew open but before he could warn her – she hollowed her cheeks and sucked. 
He groaned her name, low and unrestrained, as the pleasure electrified his spine. It arced down his thighs before he could push her off. For a moment, he lost himself in the high, in the tide of her mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed on her tongue as he came. 
Hard. 
As if he hadn’t come in months – years. 
In a daze, he blinked down at her and saw his cum dripping down her chin, leaking from the corners of her mouth as she continued to twist her fist and suck down the aftershocks. It would’ve been easily the most erotic sight, if it didn’t suddenly hit him how fast he came. 
The light-headed euphoria quickly morphed into vertigo. He was horrified, mortified, staring down at her. 
He didn’t know what to say, and for once, it seemed like neither did she. She released his cock from her mouth, but otherwise didn’t move. Not even to wipe the come off her face. 
She swallowed, and opened her mouth. But a familiar ding tore through the thick, sticky air. The bell above the front door. 
“Joel? Teddy?” 
No way. It was motherfucking Tommy. 
—-
The idiot had forgotten his house keys in Joel’s truck. In the cupholder, nonetheless. 
Joel had somehow managed to button his jeans, and hand her a tissue before Tommy busted into his office. She’d pretend to blow her nose to clean the come off her face, riddling him with another level of shame. So embarrassed that he could barely look at her without feeling like he swallowed a handful of nails. 
He threw Tommy the car keys to get rid of him, but found out that Aaron had  left. Tommy had told him that Joel could just drive him home without even asking. And usually it wouldn’t be a big deal. 
But Tommy was so goddamn clueless. He just swung around the door frame, blabbering about how the girlfriend showed up and there was a big blow up in the parking lot and Joel was just waiting for him to notice the smell of sex and sweat or even the cloying embarrassment. Or Teddy’s swollen and suck-plump lips and surely Joel looked like a flushed-beet wreck. 
So how did Tommy seem to remain completely oblivious? 
When Sarah called a few minutes later, Joel left. Well, first he made sure everything was locked up and she was safely in her car, but otherwise fled like a coward. 
The shop had officially disappeared from his rear view mirror and now Joel couldn’t remember if he even told her goodbye. She just gave him the best blow job of his life, and he couldn’t even wave? 
“Are you gonna get Sarah or drop me off first?” Tommy asked and Joel snapped at him like a venus fly trap. 
“Doesn’t really make sense to go out of my way just to drop you off first, now does it?” 
Tommy threw up his hands. “Well, fuck. How am I supposed to know where Sarah’s friend lives?” He hurled himself against the passenger seat and mumbled under his breath, “Asshole.” 
Joel winced. He was kinda being an asshole, taking out his anger on Tommy. He wasn’t even mad at Tommy. Annoyed, yes, but not mad. The only person Joel was mad at here was himself. 
He was mad at himself for cumming too fast, and even more so for running away afterwards like a scared hound with his soft, spent cock tucked between his legs. Recalling the complete shit show, Joel’s grip coiled around the steering wheel until the leather squealed in protest. He could still feel the ring of her spit drying around him. 
Joel sighed and stared out the windshield at the night sky, the truck bouncing along the uneven back road full of potholes. Why did it feel like he just fucked everything up? 
“Hey, are you alright?” Tommy’s voice was lower, quiet – concerned. 
Joel scratched at his jaw, at the bald patch she’d kissed, before nodding his head. 
“Yeah, sorry - I’m just tired.” He’d rather die and be reincarnated into a gnat than tell Tommy about how he just prematurely ejaculated. He’d had enough embarrassment for one night. 
“Did I-” Tommy paused and for a moment it seemed like he decided to keep his mouth shut. Until he sighed. “I don’t know, but did I interrupt something between you and Teddy?” 
A little too late to start being observant, Tommy. 
Joel approached a red light, the truck crawling to a complete stop. 
“Come on. What would be going on between us that you could interrupt?” Joel looked over at Tommy and his brows were furrowed. In the pool of orange light from the street lamps that speckled the cab, Joel saw the realization flash across Tommy’s face. The moment everything clicked into place. 
Joel abruptly turned away, not in the mood for pity. After what felt like forever, the light finally turned green. 
“Joel, I didn’t realize that you-” 
“Don’t.” His voice was quiet, stern without being rude. “Just don’t.” 
For once, Tommy didn’t demand to have the last word. Instead, he slowly and silently fell back into the seat as if to fade into the shadows. She still had a boyfriend as far as Tommy knew, and Joel would not be informing him otherwise. This way was easier. 
The rest of the drive was filled with Willie Nelson’s album Always on My Mind, the rumble of the engine, and the buzzing of Joel’s thoughts. 
How was he supposed to face her tomorrow? 
—-
On Friday morning, Joel drove to the shop with a terrible pit in his stomach. His eyes felt gritty, and there was a dark shadow of gray underneath from a restless night sleep. He ate a bland piece of toast for breakfast, and even that made him feel sick. When he turned onto the street, he thought it might reappear all over the windshield. 
But Teddy was not there. Just a pink post-it note on the full, freshly brewed coffee pot. 
Fox Ridge pitch - Wish me luck. 
He’d forgotten that it was this early. Joel supposed he’d have to get here on time this evening to see her. 
Joel spent the day trying not to go insane. Despite the pounding of his hammer, memories of last night beat against his skull. Anytime he touched his lips, or the spot behind his ear, he could practically feel the ghost of her kisses. They had been desperate, heated. Hadn’t they? It had seemed she’d wanted him, just as much as he’d always wanted her. She’d even admitted to imagining him in some sexual way. 
But what about now? 
He didn’t have a clue. 
Eight hours later, and halfway from a complete tailspin, the truck decided not to start. The engine clicked and clicked and clicked, but never went. Even though he begged for it to start. The concrete guys had tried to jump it with no success. It’d taken everything in him not to sock Tommy in the jaw when he gave him that told-you-so look while calling a tow truck. 
The concrete guys were still on their best behavior and gave them a ride to the mechanic shop. It was run by one of Tommy’s highschool friends, Zach, who was nice enough to stick around past 5 on a Friday night. 
5:25 and this was a fucking nightmare. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to die. As if he hadn’t fucked up enough last night when he bolted, the last thing Joel wanted as her thinking that he was avoiding her. The least he could do was extend the same courtesy she had this morning. 
So midway through Tommy and Zach examining what was under the hood, he broke away to call her. 
Joel slapped his cellphone against the flat of his palm as he headed outside the entrance. With a deep breath he dialed the shop’s number. The ring-ring-ring in his ears made his chest feel like it was about to explode. 
“Teddy’s Company, how can I help you?”
“Hey Teddy.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s Joel,” he said, very awkwardly. 
“Hey! Hi. What’s up?” 
Joel kicked at the loose rocks by his feet. “Well, the truck - uh the truck’s acting up. We had to get a tow, and Tommy and I are - the mechanic’s checking it over right now.” 
“Oh shit.” 
“Yeah, so I just wanted you to know - I don’t know when we’ll get back to the shop.” Joel lightly hit the center of his head with the circle of his clenched fist. He sounded like an idiot. 
“No - yeah. That makes sense.” Silence crackled on the other line and it was unbearable. 
Joel scratched his temple, unsure what to say next. He wanted to talk about last night, just to get it over with, but it wasn’t the right time. That was not a conversation to have over the phone. Not like at work was much better, but still. 
“Well,” Teddy broke the silence. There was a rustling of something on the other line – papers? Her bag? “Do you need-” 
There was a massive boom behind him – Tommy pounded on the glass door and motioned him inside. 
“What was that?” she asked and Joel mouthed at Tommy to give him a second. 
“Sorry, it’s Tommy. I think the mechanic’s done with the inspection.”
“Okay - well, I was just gonna ask if you guys-” 
Tommy banged again – harder. It was Friday, so he probably had a date with his favorite dive bar. Joel glared at him and flipped him off. 
“It sounds like you need to go,” she said. 
“Sorry.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and he was gonna kill Tommy. “But uh - have a nice weekend, alright?” 
“Yeah, yeah, you too, Joel.” 
Once Joel found out the battery just needed to be replaced, Tommy’s pissy mood made a lot more sense. It would be a decently fast and easy fix – at most an hour. 
Joel plopped down in a chair in the lobby and mindlessly flipped through a car magazine. He didn’t even register the pictures that swished by, too busy reeling from that awkward phone call. 
Had he really told her to have a nice weekend? He wanted to melt into the cracks and scuffs in the black-and-white tiles. Real smooth, Joel. He sucked at this shit. 
What was going to happen next? 
He couldn’t tell where her head was at from the phone call that somehow didn’t even last as long as him last night. God – she probably thought he had some type of erectile dysfunction and he couldn’t even blame her. There was no excuse for a man at his age to cum that fast from a blow job, nonetheless. He was not a fucking teenager. 
The longer he sat there in the empty lobby with the melancholy of Johnny Cash’s voice, the more he began to doubt. It spread and swelled in his lower abdomen like a virus. Syphilis. If it festered for too long, he felt like it might turn him insane. 
He didn’t know how he would survive the weekend like this. 
— 
Saturday was usually his day for relaxing. All his responsibilities could wait until Sunday, but he couldn’t sit still. 
Up early, he and Sarah went to the Farmer’s Market and ran errands until lunch time. He deep cleaned the house in the afternoon. The entire main floor was vacuumed and swept, the kitchen counters looked brand new, and even his bed was freshly made with dryer warm sheets. He was determined to keep busy instead of wallowing in his looming conversation with Teddy. 
It might’ve worked if Sarah didn’t innocently keep bringing her up. With homecoming tonight, she was apparently in the mood to reminisce, especially after she’d gotten all dolled up. 
They were halfway to her friend Ashley’s house and the drive had been filled with Teddy. Their mall trip – the dress – the tiny details Teddy helped pick out. 
“I brought my polaroid camera.” Sarah pointed at her overnight bag in the backseat of his truck. “So, you can take a photo of me and show Teddy on Monday.” 
“Oh, yeah. She’ll like that.” Joel forced a smile as the hand of his knee flexed, biting into denim. 
He couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time Sarah mentioned her. Teddy would never cut Sarah out, he knew that, but things were bound to be different now. It couldn’t go back to what it used to be, not after she’d seen his cock and swallowed his come. The relationship would inevitably change between them. 
He just hoped their friendship could be somewhat salvaged. For Sarah’s sake, especially. 
Joel was able to push that out of his mind when they arrived at Ashley’s house. The Murphy’s had been nice enough to invite the entire group, including parents, to come over and take photos. He couldn’t imagine fitting 14 teenagers and their moms in his puny backyard where he could barely fit a playset. Luckily, the Murphy’s lived on a big, well-landscaped lot that backed up against a man-made lake, and not directly into a neighbor’s house. 
The few other dad’s who showed up were all huddled together under the covered patio with their eyes transfixed on the TV screen. The Longhorns were taking on the Wildcats. Still in the first quarter, so it wasn’t even a good game yet. 
Instead of cracking open a beer, Joel joined the mom’s by the rose bushes. 
“Oh my God, Joel. Sarah looks beautiful.”
“She’s gorgeous.” 
“Stunning.” 
They all complimented Joel as if his genes actually put up a fight. Sarah was Lisa’s exact twin. Even more so when her gorgeous thick curls were pulled back into a loose bun with a few loose strands framing her face. The mom’s were right though – Sarah did look beautiful. But then again, she always did; with or without all the glitter and make-up. 
Sarah’s date was a scrawny, soccer player with red hair who was her best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Eric. Joel could hardly believe his daughter was at an age to even have a date, even if it was just a set up. It made him feel incredibly old when the kid called him sir. 
Based on first impressions, Eric seemed nice enough. The kid took a few photos of Joel and Sarah together in front of the Mexican bush sage. The purple flowers were almost an exact match to Sarah’s dress. Joel had hoped that somebody would offer when he’d changed out of his dusty clothes earlier and into a different, slightly nicer white t-shirt and a pair of his best dark wash jeans. 
Still, while Joel wouldn’t threaten the kid with a fist or scare the shit out of him with a war story like Tommy would, Joel did give Eric the look – Don’t try anything, bud. When Joel shook his hand, it felt like wet paint. 
Good. 
Joel thanked the minivan moms for driving, Ashley’s mom for hosting the sleepover afterwards, while snapping enough pictures to fill up two of Sarah’s bulletin boards. 
“You look beautiful, baby girl,” he told Sarah one more time before hugging her goodbye. 
She promised to be good and handed him the developed Polaroid, specifically for Teddy. He stashed it safely away in the middle console of his truck then drove away. 
At home, an empty living room quietly greeted him. Not yet 6 P.M. – the sun continued to shine and slice through the curtains onto the beige carpet. Joel had no idea what to do with the rest of his evening. Football, he supposed. Maybe rent a movie – Ocean’s Eleven or Training Day, something Sarah had no interest in ever seeing. 
He whipped up a ham and cheese sandwich and cracked open a beer. Rather than eating alone at the dining room table, he set up on the couch and ate in the company of Longhorn football. 
It didn’t take long, not even halfway finished with his sandwich, before a Folgers commercial came on and he thought about Teddy. She never even used Folgers, but just coffee in general made him think of her. At this point, it was actually pathetic how everything reminded him of her.
For a few minutes, Joel debated on calling her and figuring this shit out already. This limbo was killing him. He even pulled out his phone from his back pocket, found her name in his contact list and let it taunt him, his thumb hovering over the call button for longer than he’d like to admit. 
But what would he say if she answered? 
It had been two days and he still had no clue. He was still trying to figure out how to navigate this whole situation. He wanted to handle it with care but it felt like holding a dandelion puff in his rough calloused hands. Inevitably, it would break and fall apart with something as simple as a gust of wind. Joel carelessly tossed his phone on the coffee table and groaned. 
At halftime, he went and cleaned off his empty plate in the sink. Using his hands always helped distract him. Maybe he needed a hobby. He could always play his guitar, finally learn Never Going Back Again. He’d always wanted to try out woodworking since it used to be his dad’s favorite pastime. 
Joel was drying off the dish when the doorbell rang. 
“Hold on,” he yelled, wiping off his hands with the rag. He didn’t know who that could be, but he’d bet everything in his wallet right now it was Tommy. He knew Sarah would be gone all night, and probably wanted to drag Joel to some bar across town for a wild night out. 
Joel was coming around to the idea of spending his night in a smoky, loud bar instead of cooped up in his house when he opened the door. It was definitely not his brother, not even close. 
“Teddy.” 
She was on his front porch in a pale blue sundress that instantly made his mouth water. The buttery light from the budding sunset sky behind her framed her silhouette. 
“Sorry to just stop by.” She smoothed down her dress and tugged at the hem. “But can I come in?” 
—-
She didn’t say why she was here when he let her inside, but he supposed she didn’t have to. 
It was actually Joel who broke the silence. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked. His mom would lurch from her grave if he didn’t act like a good host. 
“Water,” she said with a small smile. “Tap’s fine.” 
It was a good thing she didn’t follow him into the kitchen. His hands were shaking so bad that he nearly dropped the glass on the tile floor. 
When he came back into the living room, she was sitting on the couch. He handed her the glass, his fingertips brushing over hers. She politely thanked him before taking a tentative sip. The cushion whined under his weight when he sat. These were the exact same spots from the night she was here with Sarah. This time, however, the empty cushion felt less like a safety net and more like a boulder about to crush him. 
He turned off the TV, the newfound silence giving further evidence of what happened the other night. 
She clinked the glass onto the coffee table, then clasped her hands stiffly in her lap. On the very edge of her seat, she looked ready to bolt at any moment. “I knew Sarah would be at the dance or, at least dinner.” 
“Yeah, dinner. I think the dance starts around 8,” he said and she nodded. He wished he would’ve remembered to bring the Polaroid inside. Maybe it would’ve helped ease the tension. 
But no – he needed to quit procrastinating and apologize for how he reacted the other night. 
Buck up – do it. 
For a moment, Joel searched for what to say, scratching the skin around his neck where it felt thickest. 
“Joel,” Teddy said before he could speak. She shifted in her seat and when she opened her mouth, he braced himself for her to call it nothing but a mistake. “I wanted to come by and apologize about the other night.” 
His brows furrowed. 
“Apologize?” 
“Yes, Joel,” she answered, very sternly. He noticed a pained look in her eyes before she stared down at her stark white tennis shoes. 
“What? I - what?” He sounded like a bumbling drunk and for once, he wished the right words would just come naturally to him. 
She sighed. 
“After our phone call yesterday,” she started, only stopping for a split-second to clasp her gold necklace between her fingers. “I feel like I might’ve pushed things too far the other night. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable-” 
“Uncomfortable? No. Shit.” Joel insistently shook his head. He would personally damn himself to hell if he sat here any longer and let her take any blame for this. Exhaling, he scruffed a hand over his jaw. “Look, I’ll admit - I panicked, but that ain’t on you.” 
“How is it not?” 
“Cause you did nothing wrong. Fuck. I’m the one who should be apologizing, alright? I acted like a goddamn idiot, Teddy. It’s just-” Joel let out a self-deprecating laugh, bashfully tucking his chin towards his chest. “I don’t usually, ya know - that fast. Just got embarrassed, that's all.” 
He absently rubbed at a patch of distressed leather on the arm of the couch. 
“Well, I never wanted to make you feel embarrassed.” She scooted closer – closer. Slowly. For what felt like the first time since the night in his office, Joel properly met her eyes. “All I wanted was to make you feel good, Joel.” Her voice was husky, almost seductive. She smirked and his heart banged inside his chest like a caged feral cat. 
“You did make me feel good,” he admitted, rather shyly. “Just wish I could’ve made you feel good, too.”  
“Who says you can’t?” Her eyes darted across his face, to his lips, to the rise and fall of his chest. She gripped his shoulders for balance before swinging her legs over him. Her knee lightly bumped into the arm of the couch and his hands instantly went to her hips, helping to steady her on his lap. 
Joel stared up at her dumbly for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. His thumbs toyed with the hem of her dress, bunching it up further until he could brush over the bare flesh of her thighs. Goddamn, she was so soft. So pretty. 
“What do you want, Joel?” 
Everything. “Whatever you’ll give me.” 
“No, Joel. What do you want?” 
The last two days – hell, the last two years bulldozed into him. Every feeling and thought he’d suppressed and ignored crashing into him like a wrecking ball. He’d spent so long convincing himself this would never happen, but now – everything he ever wanted and never thought he would have was right here. Right in his lap. 
And something inside him suddenly snapped. 
“You gotta know by now, Teddy. You gotta know.” The words spilled out of his mouth and he hated how it sounded. It didn’t make any sense. Joel shook his head and ran his hands down her thighs to lightly squeeze at the spot above her knees for stability. “Fuck, I ain’t any good at this shit,” he said, in a rare moment of vulnerability. 
She cupped his face so delicately like he was made of porcelain. With a small nudge, he met her gaze. 
“This is gonna sound very middle school, but do you like me, Joel?” she asked and he snorted. 
It did sound juvenile, but he instinctively tugged her closer and nodded his head. 
“Good. Cause I like you and I want you, Joel. Only you,” she said. “So what do you say? Wanna give this a shot?” 
“You fucking know I do.” His hand slid behind her neck, his thumb traced over the perfect curve of her hair line. “Now, come here.” 
When his lips met hers – it was desperate and sweet like cream soda. His mouth crashed against hers with every bottled up dream and fantasy of her mouth, her lips, her tongue. It surged hot and bright through him. 
His hand was a firm weight on the small of her back as he pulled her in as close as humanly possible, until only denim and a dainty sundress could separate him from her. 
She clutched onto his shirt collar before gently rocking her hips against his growing bulge. He tensed his thigh, catching on her panties. She whimpered, already so sensitive, and he couldn’t wait to learn all the sounds she made. 
He couldn’t fuck her on the couch, though. Not properly, at least. Definitely not like he wanted to or how she deserved. Still, he let himself enjoy this for a few minutes. Dry humping like teenagers in her parent’s basement before breaking the kiss with a soft peck to her top lip. 
“Would you wanna go upstairs?” He dragged the back of his hand over her thigh, his knuckles hiking up her dress to reveal a little more skin. 
“Oooh. Am I finally gonna see Joel Miller’s room?” She gave the tip of his nose a quick kiss before crawling off of him. 
She held his hands the entire way upstairs until he led her into his room. “Told you, you weren’t missing much.” 
“I don’t know about that.” She glanced at the navy blue walls, at the painting of a grazing deer in what appeared to be somewhere in Montana. It hung above his golden oak headboard. She pointed at the basic beige comforter, three pillows lined up against the frame. “I’m gonna be honest, though, I didn’t take you for the type to make your bed.” 
“I did a little cleaning today.” Joel shrugged as she kicked off her shoes by his laundry basket. 
“Well, isn’t that convenient?” 
Joel managed to only kiss her twice before getting on the bed. He scooted into the middle, using two pillows to prop and cushion his aging lower back. Again, she eagerly climbed over him. She yanked her dress over her head, leaving her in only a lacy black bra with a pair of matching panties that cut high on her hips. The tiny, pink flower on the waistband was just the cherry on top. 
She must’ve noticed the look on his face because she giggled as if she was completely innocent. “Do you like it? I wore it for you.” 
“Fuck me,” he murmured. “Look at you, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” His hands roamed from her ribs up to paw at her bra and he squeezed just hard enough to watch them pour out over the top. He growled from deep in his chest before shoving his face in between her breasts. He traced the lacy material with his tongue before kissing along his slick trail. “Can I take it off?” 
Smirking, she reached behind her and unclipped it for him. The bra joined her dress on the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips and admired her bare skin – the curves of her body in the coppery-golden glow from the sunset spilling in from the window. When he cupped her breasts, he swore they were made for his hands. His thumbs slid across her sensitive peaks, feather-light, but her breath still hitched – her head tip back and even the column of her neck was gorgeous. 
He replaced one of his thumbs with his tongue, flicking the tip of it over her nub again and again. Kitten licks that made her clutch the back of his head. The way her fingers rooted into his hair was almost possessive and she held him flush against her chest as he sucked her nipple into his needy mouth. 
Her breathing grew ragged and she tried to find friction. She rutted against him, but his hands captured her hips, holding her still before she could graze his cock. Too much dry humping and he’d be actually come in his pants like a teenager. 
“Be patient, sweetheart,” he murmured and she whined. He didn’t allow her another chance to complain before his mouth switched to her other breast and adored it with equal attention. It’d been ages since he took his time like this and he lost himself in the feeling of her soft, scented skin on his face. 
“Joel,” she moaned. It was desperate and raw and hands down the most erotic sound he’d ever heard in his life. It snapped him from his reverie and he grazed his teeth once more over her spit-swollen bud. 
“I know.” He petted her hips before cupping her sex. The lace was soaked and sticky around her cunt. 
Her hips bucked into the flat edge of his palm and for a moment, he watched her shamelessly ride his hand. Her brows furrowed – her fingers clutching his shirt for support. He was suddenly aware that he was completely dressed, and he found it strangely erotic. A part of him enjoyed it, maybe a little too much. 
“Let me take care of you.” He patted her on the hip before ordering her to lay back. She didn’t need to be told twice. 
Joel moved, so she could take his spot in the center of the bed. He tore off his t-shirt and threw it with her clothes. She watched him with glossy, moon eyes as he crawled between her spread open thighs. He captured her lips in a tender kiss before swerving to the swell of her cheek and down the slope of her neck. Gently, he nipped at her collarbone and she wiggled impatiently. 
But he still went slow when dragging the tip of his nose from her breasts and along her stomach where he placed a soft kiss above her belly button. 
When he settled back on his knees, he saw her chest rising and falling. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth and she was fisting the comforter. It was hard to believe she was really here, even as his fingers stroked her thigh. She was actually in his bed in nothing but soaked black panties. 
Joel laid down on his stomach, spreading her thighs even wider to make room for his broad shoulders. Face-to-face with her lace covered cunt, he could smell the sweet, primal musk. 
He sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling nervous. He enjoyed going down on women, but it had been awhile since he did anything more than just enough to get someone wet enough to take him. And he really wanted this to be good. 
It felt like it had to be good, after his last fuck up. 
“Joel? Are you okay?” She brushed back a tuft of hair that had fallen flat on his face. 
He shut his eyes but there was no hiding when his face was mere inches from her pussy. “It’s just been awhile.” 
“Well, we don’t-”
“No. God - I want to.” Joel groaned and dejectedly dropped his head against her thigh. He kissed at a mark above her knee. Her skin felt so warm against the stubble of his cheek. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” 
A moan dripped from her lips as he mouthed his way to the dip where her thighs met her hips. His nose nudging along the elastic seam. 
“I’m not usually like this, but fuck - I wanna make you feel good.” He sucked at the spot directly above that damn tiny pink rose and her hips lifted off the bed, almost chasing his mouth. “Want you to know I can take care of you.” 
“You can - you can,” she practically chanted. “Just God. Please, Joel.” 
“Okay, I got you. It’s okay,” he whispered before peeling off her panties. He lifted the flimsy to his nose and inhaled without thinking. She smelled so delicious, musky, like sea salt and jasmine. He lost himself in her womanly scent and stuffed the fabric into his mouth and oh God – the taste. Dully sweet, a citrusy-tang that tingled his tongue. He devoured it. 
It wasn’t until her panties were licked clean that he came up for air. His eyes opened to find her staring at him. Her mouth gaping – pupils carbon-black. 
With a shy smile, he tossed the panties, now soaked with his spit, behind him. “Sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” she panted. “Fuck, that was hot.” 
He snorted. 
“Well, you taste damn good, sweetheart,” he said, situating himself comfortably between her thighs. Now, there was nothing, not even skimpy lace separating them. She was completely hairless, which was actually a first for him. Joel didn’t have a personal preference, though he did like how easily he could see how turned on she was. Her entire sex was swollen and glossy and perfect. Licking his lips, he peered up at her. “I wanna make you feel good, so let me know if you don’t like something, alright?” 
She quickly nodded, her chest hitching with anticipation. She wanted this. She did.
He kissed the top of her mound then experimentally licked her slit, keeping his tongue soft and flat. He deliberately stopped just before her clit, avoiding it. For now. He planned to build her up slowly, steady. Words had never come easy to him, so instead he’d show her what he could not articulate. 
Despite his own painful desire, his focus remained solely on her as he lapped at her cunt: He teased and nibbled and sucked on her folds. Letting her little sounds and sighs guide him to find her most sensitive spots. He didn’t know what he’d been so worried about before. Eating pussy was just like riding a bike. 
“More,” she pleaded, and how could he deny her after she’d been so patient? 
Her back arched when the tip of his nose grazed her clit. He smirked against her cunt, the pit in his belly stoked by how worked up she was. It fueled his confidence and his tongue swiped over her clit. She wound her fingers through his hair and tugged. 
Hard. 
And Oh – that did something to him. His cock twitched, or at least, tried to. Pack so tightly against the seam of his jeans. Again – he swallowed the urge to hump the sheets for some relief, snubbing his own arousal for hers. 
As he toyed with her clit, his fingertips skimmed over her slick, hot-heated sex. The thick bulb of his pointer finger caught on her entrance and she immediately clenched, as if trying to capture him. Greedy little thing. 
Still, he peered up at her for permission that she happily granted. He started out with one finger and inched inside her until he could not physically go any further. He cursed under his breath. She was warm and soaked and so tight. 
When finally he squeezed in a second finger, her knees slightly bowed. Even though she was wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance, he rocked into her slowly, mindful to let her adjust. He curled his fingers, trying a few different angles before finding that spongy spot. 
Immediately, she jerked with a deep, filthy moan. 
Got it. 
His fingers worked just as relentlessly as his tongue that was circling and swirling and flicking her clit. So responsive. Her walls spasmed around him as he thrusted into her a little harder. A little faster.
“Oh my God.” Her voice was as shaky as her thighs. He could feel her starting to swell under his tongue. 
Joel didn’t want to stop, but he needed to see her come apart. When he leaned back on his knees, her hand shot out. She latched onto his forearm with a death grip. 
“Wait! Wait! Joel!” Her voice was high-pitched. Frantic. Her cunt clenched furiously around his fingers as if she could not bear to let them go. “I’m almost there. I swear, I’m close.” 
She bore down, attempting to fuck his hand as if she needed to prove she was telling the truth. Like he could do nothing but sit here, and she could get herself off. Joel felt something ugly and bitter twinge in his chest. It made him wonder how often she was left high and dry and unsatisfied by the people she fucked. 
Well, not anymore. Not with him. 
Once his hand lightly pressed on her abdomen, she stopped. Her gaze found his. Her eyes glossy and wild and fucked out. It looked like the only thought in her head was how badly she needed to come. 
“Don’t worry, I ain’t done with you, sweetheart,” he assured her as his hand on her stomach moved lower and lower. “Just wanna see you when I make you come for the first time.”
A filthy moan split her lips when he circled her clit with his thumb. The panic on her face was instantly replaced with relief. Pleasure. She looked gorgeous on the verge of an orgasm. 
“Does this pretty little pussy feel good?” 
“Yes - yes - don’t stop,” she cried out. “I’m so close.” 
“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it.” And he could. “I got you.” 
She moaned his name as she came undone underneath him. Her arousal was dripping down his knuckles and onto his sheets. He caught himself grinding into the air, desperately wishing it was his cock instead of his fingers making her come. 
Her clit pulsed under the pad of his thumb like a beating heart. Insatiable, he sucked the taste of her off his fingers then wiped his mouth. 
She drew him down into a sloppy, wet kiss. The painful bulge in his jeans catching on her bare flesh. By some miracle, though he didn’t burst right then and there. 
She pawed at his bare shoulders. “I need you,” she murmured against his lips that were still buzzing with her wetness. “Please Joel, I want you.” 
“Greedy,” he mumbled, grinning against her cheek. He gave her hip a playful pinch before jumping onto his feet. 
Quickly, he shed his jeans along with his pre-come stained boxer briefs. His cock was heavy. The head swollen into a furious shade of red, closer to purple than pink. 
The light outside was starting to fade into gauzy, gray dusk. So, Joel flipped on the bedside lamp before pulling out a fresh box of condoms from the nightstand. He tore through the plastic wrapping with his teeth, but slowed down when opening the tin-foil packet. 
“How do you want me?” She asked as he securely rolled on the condom. 
Up? Down? He didn’t care. “Surprise me.” 
She shot him a mischievous smirk before flipping onto her stomach. Rising onto all fours. This woman. He had no idea what she would pick, but his first guess never would’ve been doggy. 
He admired the dream-like curve of her spine and she invitingly wiggled her ass. Seemed she was trying to give him a heart attack. Did she know how sexy she was to him? She had to. She had to know what she did to him. 
“Is this okay?” she asked, and Joel growled his approval. He climbed in behind her and palmed at the plump flesh of her ass. 
She opened herself wider until he could see everything. “Shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, marveling at where her sex glistened with his spit and her orgasm.
Joel had to squeeze at the base of his cock before dragging the tip through her slick folds, all the way up to her puckered hole. Even that felt good. Almost too good. And he wasn’t even inside her, yet. 
Once Joel was lined up with her entrance, he noticed how small her cunt looked next to him and didn’t even try to push in. He questioned whether or not he could fit. It was just a fact that he was thick. Even though she was soaked, this would be a tight squeeze. 
Fuck. Now, he was really regretting only using two fingers instead of three. 
“Joel” she whined, but he still didn’t move. 
“I don’t wanna hurt you.” 
“No, I can take it - I promise,” she whimpered. “Joel, please.” She tilted back against him, making it impossible to say no. 
“Okay. Alright,” he said soothingly, calmly rubbing the arc of her hip. “I’ll go slow.” 
And he did. For both his and her sake, he inched into the heat of her cunt. His gaze was welded to the painted deer above the headboard. Watching himself disappear inside her would’ve been too much. The feeling of her pulsing around him was already almost too much for him to handle. Without the condom, this would’ve been over before it could even begin.  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re big,” she choked out, her walls fluttering around him. “I need - I need a second.” 
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Yeah – he needed one too. 
There was a long minute where the only sounds in the room were of his harsh breaths, her suppressed whimpers. Then, a slight creak of the bed. 
He leaned forward, his chest lightly pressed against her back. His arms caged in around hers, palms flat on the bed to help support his own weight as he draped over her body. 
“You feel so good.” His lips brushed over the top of her spine and she shivered. “I know it’s a lot. I want you to know it’s a lot for me too.” 
“Oh, Joel,” she mewled as he buried his face into her neck. She smelled and tasted just like salted caramel. 
“You’re perfect, sweetheart. So good.” He kissed behind her ear, along the back of her neck. “I’m gonna move now, alright?” 
“Please.” The word dripped from her lips – the only answer he needed. 
He stayed close to her, his breath puffing against her neck as he fucked into her. Nice and slow and tender, at first. She met his thrusts in perfect sync. Each one allowing him deeper and deeper inside her and he didn’t even know how that was possible. It was as if her pussy was molding to fit him, to take even more of him. It felt very intimate and overwhelming.
He thought if he was staring into her eyes that he might’ve cried. Sex had never felt like this before. Not with Lisa, not even when they accidentally made Sarah. If he was being honest, sex had always felt somewhat impersonal; stilted, distant, like a glory hole in a gas station, just minus the sketchy bathroom wall.
But here, right now with her – this felt sacred. He had no clue how he ever managed to live without this. 
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” Joel laid his damp forehead between her shoulder blades and picked up the pace. 
“Joel.” She gasped. His name seemed to be the only word she could say. It was as if he had completely consumed her. Her mind. Her body. Her every neuron. He kissed each vertebrae within reach, claiming more of her. 
More. 
“So damn long,” he answered. “And so fucking bad. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and look at you now, sweetheart. Just taking it. So good, just like I knew you would.” 
“Oh God, Joel.” 
He felt her shake, her arms appeared ready to give out and collapse. He wouldn’t let that happen. So, he widened his stance, the comforter bunching up around his knees. Carefully, but without warning, he fully pulled out and she wailed like it physically hurt. 
“I got you.” He shushed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and sealing her to his chest. “Come on, come here.” He guided her upright along with him and she groaned once the weight was off her arms. 
She sank back down on his cock instantly, her ass flush against his thighs. He felt even closer to her, somehow, in this position. Her skin was on fire, the sweat making her back stick to him like gum. Her pussy was drenched and dripping down his balls. 
He could feel her all over him. Everywhere. It amazed him how he managed to last this long.
Joel gripped her hip, his other hand went to cup her breast. When he gently rocked forward at the perfect angle, she clenched. 
“Goddamn.” He squeezed her breast, continuing to hit that same spot. “How are you so tight?” 
“It’s you, Joel.” She gasped. “No one - no one has ever been this deep.” 
The dormant, possessive part of his brain lit up and he growled. Joel buried himself to the hilt, until he could not claim another inch. No one but him had ever touched her here. 
Just him. 
Just him. 
Only him. 
His. 
She was soaking wet, white-hot, and he could feel himself throbbing inside her. Joel wanted to come so badly. The spicy-musk of her skin was swirling in his lower belly with a powerful, burning heat. On the brink of bursting. 
“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He pinched her nipple as his other hand went down to play with her clit. “I wanna make you come.” 
Her only response came in a whine, a frantic nod.
Joel thrusted into her with long, deep strokes that made the bed shake. The headboard hit the wall in a dull, rhythmic thud that filled the room. Just like her trembling, needy moans, his own low groans, and the heady-salt scent of sex. 
She threaded her fingers into his hair and haled his mouth toward hers. She kissed him, or more so, tried to. It was more of just lips devouring whatever was within reach: cheeks and chin and the curve of mouths. It wasn’t the best angle, but it didn’t matter. 
In this moment, nothing else mattered to him but her. 
Despite the tightness in his balls, Joel somehow held back his release. He gritted his teeth, burrowed his face into her neck, and quickly rubbed her clit. The high-pitched sound of his name lingered on her swollen lips as her walls squeezed around him like a fist. 
It wasn’t until her cunt was spasming around him that he finally drove forward. He was buried so deep inside her that he practically snarled when he came. 
He spilled into the condom, but pretended to be filling her up instead. He would watch his cum drool out of her, only to stuff it all back in with his fingers. 
Joel clutched her against him as his hips gave a few final jerks. He would have liked to stay inside her until he went completely soft, but the condom was overflowing. Cum or her slick or more likely a mix of both was soaking into the hair between his thighs. He decided not to test the durability of this specific condom brand. The last time he did that, well – it was obvious how that turned out. 
Holding the condom at the base, he slipped out of her and dropped onto his ass with a few pops and cracks. Damn, he really should stretch more.
His eyes fell to where her legs were spread and her sex was still gaping from him – for him. His mouth went dry. He wanted to lean over and quench his thirst, fill her with his tongu- 
“What’re you lookin’ at there?” The sound of her lilted voice made his gaze abruptly snap to her face. 
He must’ve been blushing because her lips split into a smug grin. Clearly, she knew what caught his attention. But even after two orgasms, she was still a little sassy. Still too damn perceptive for her own good, meanwhile he could barely form a coherent sentence. 
She straddled his thighs, careful to avoid his semi-soft cock. 
“It’s okay, you can look. I mean, it’s yours now, isn’t it?” Her soft, small voice cut through the post-sex fog in his brain. She was looking so vulnerable, so exposed, completely naked in his lap. Even he was more covered up than her, and all he had covering him was a flimsy, full condom that he had not yet found the energy to get up and throw away. 
Isn’t it? Joel got the sense it was not a genuine question, but more of a reiteration – a confirmation. Are we on the same page? 
Whatever she meant, he nodded his head. 
“It is.” He cradled her cheek. “But only if it comes with the rest of you. I’m a greedy man, sweetheart. I want it all.” 
She beamed at him. 
“Well, that makes two of us,” she declared while brushing a sweaty tuft of his hair out of his face. “I want everything you come with, Joel. And when I say everything - I mean everything. The whole package.” 
She might’ve not said Sarah’s name, but he knew that’s what she meant. 
His lips parted, amazed by how easily the words came out of her mouth. That was the first time a woman had ever acknowledged that he came as a two-for-one deal without even a hint of cynicism in their tone. Obviously, Joel realized a kid was a lot to take on. Especially since Lisa wasn’t in the picture at all, but there were some women who made it sound like Sarah was baggage, which was insane. Sarah was the best part of him. 
Speechless, Joel kissed her firmly on the mouth. It was warm and sweet and surging through his chest like an electric current. This is what it was supposed to be like. He could feel her lips break into a smile before he pulled away. 
“Stay here. Let me get you cleaned up.” 
She laid back on the bed without argument, and he disappeared into the bathroom. Joel stuffed the condom into the tin-foil wrapper, then buried it under wads of tissues and empty toilet paper rolls at the bottom of the trash can, just in case Sarah used his bathroom. He didn’t want her to see that. 
After cleaning himself up, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth. She looked pleasantly surprised, a little shocked. Wordlessly, she parted her legs with enough space for him to fit. 
“Such a gentleman,” she finally said after he gently wiped down her thighs. 
“Maybe.” He moved over her tender, swollen folders with even more caution. “Or maybe I just wanted to get a closer look.” 
He winked and she giggled. 
“You had your face buried down there like twenty minutes ago - don’t think you can get much closer than that.” 
True. Joel snorted and tossed the washcloth into his laundry hamper. He went over to his dresser and dug out an old, oversized t-shirt from the bottom of his drawer.
“Caught this at a Longhorns game from one of those t-shirt cannons,” he said when handing her the folded shirt with her panties on top. 
“Ooooooh impressive.” She playfully wiggled her brows, just slightly taunting him. He didn’t expect anything less. 
His boxers from earlier were still damp, so he put on a fresh pair. 
“So, what time are you picking Sarah up?” she asked, seemingly waiting to bring up his kid until he wasn't butt-ass naked. 
“Actually, she’s staying at her friend’s house tonight.” 
“Well, that’s interesting.” 
Joel hummed his response. He was grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the closet when suddenly the home phone on the nightstand lit up, ringing. Only solicitors called that phone, anymore – shit, his cellphone was downstairs. 
He would’ve ignored it, but what if it was Sarah? 
Joel raced to the phone with his pants still clutched in his hand. Once he saw the caller ID, he groaned.
“It’s Tommy.” 
She nodded for him to answer, and so he did. Very reluctantly. “Hello?” Joel swore if Tommy was in jail again, he was going to let him rot there until next week. 
“Hey there, Joel.” Definitely not jail – too happy. “What’s going on?” 
“Uh,” Joel paused and looked at his bed where Teddy was laying in only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. What a beautiful sight. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself; Tommy wouldn’t believe him even if he told the truth. Joel tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could put on his pants. “Nothing.” 
Teddy grinned at him like they were teenagers lying to their parents. 
“Nothing? Huh?” Tommy snorted. “Then what’s Teddy’s car doing in your driveway?” 
Oh no. 
Joel nearly tripped over his pant leg on his way to the window. The street lights were on, but the sky was still a light enough blue where he could clearly see Tommy standing in the driveway, waving with a classic little brother grin on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?” 
“I was coming by to drag your ass out and wait - are you fucking shirtless?” 
Joel cursed, backing away from the window like it burned him. The cover was blown and he hoped Teddy didn’t mind, but it wasn’t his fault that his brother came over uninvited. He looked at her and she was just smiling, appearing wildly amused. 
She shrugged, then yelled. “Hi Tommy.” 
Tommy howled in his ear, loud enough that he could hear it through the glass. She immediately burst out laughing, no longer having to hide. Joel shook his head, but he couldn’t even be annoyed or mad. Not right now. 
“You dirty dog.” 
Fucking Tommy. 
228 notes · View notes
lovebugism · 1 year
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✶ ┄ I LIKE YOUR FACE !
summary: eddie and his cynical eyes have a confession to make pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 0.7k a short and sweet lil thing warnings: just tooth rotting fluff <3 a/n: i need this man like i need to breathe at this point ..
( MASTERLIST )
“I like your face,” Eddie confesses in the faintest, gentlest murmur a loudmouth like him can muster.
It hangs in the humid air of both your breaths and lingers beneath the thin sheet looming over the two of you. He smells faintly of beer and weed and the mint gum he chewed in attempts to get rid of it all, and you of the chocolate chip cookies you scavenged from his pantry like a person starved.
It’s getting hot and harder to breathe beneath the covers, in this impenetrable fortress you’d made out of blankets as old as the both of you. From where your legs are twisted together like pretzels, you can feel skin going sticky with a fine sheen of sweat. But neither of you are eager to leave; to pierce the bubble of peace surrounding his stained mattress like a summer cloud, with the both of you upon it.
You want this moment to last as long as the universe will allow it to.
You grow somehow warmer at the compliment. You tuck your face into the pillow beneath your head in a fruitless attempt to run away from his words.
Eddie’s hand rises from where it was twisted in the thin cotton of your t-shirt — an oversized piece of Blondie merch from a few years back he picked up for you at a thrift store; “Made me think of you,” he shrugged like it was normal for him to exist and see bits of you all around him.
His fingers crawl into your hair and settle at the roots, resting between the strands like they were made to do it. It sends a soft tingle down your spine.
You fear if you close your eyes for too long, you’ll fall asleep. That frightens you. It means, when you wake up, that this nirvana will be a memory.
You shift your head on the cushion to peek one eye over at him, all shy and cheeks pink with it.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” you wonder aloud. It sounds more pathetic leaving your mouth that it did jumbling around in your head.
You can’t help it, though. You need to hear it more than you need to breathe. Of course, I do. You’re the prettiest thing these cynical eyes have ever seen.
Eddie doesn’t say that. Not any of it. Not even close.
He only shrugs and juts his lip out like he’d never thought about it once. “I guess so,” he concludes. “If you want me to.”
Maybe he feels you stiffen from next to him. Or maybe he hears the way your breath catches in your throat. Perhaps it’s all of those things and the flash of hurt that strikes across your features like lightning. Because Eddie goes lax with a sigh, realizing how it sounded coming out of his mouth — more pathetic than yours. 
He was never a wiz with words. That’s probably why he can’t seem to pass Ms. O’Donnell’s. Give him a D&D board, a beat up journal, and a campaign idea and he’s golden. But put a pretty girl in front of him and a heart so full he’s scared it might burst and he’s done for.
“It’s more than that, though,” he whispers. The breath of his admission brushes featherlight across your cheek. “It’s more than beauty... There’s a— I don’t know— like, a kindness to your face, you know? You look at me so soft sometimes, and no one’s… No one’s ever looked at me that way before. 'S nice.”
You feel your throat run dry like a barren creek at his honesty.
You’re not sure how he can say any of this with the way he’s looking at you.
His got this lopsided smile on his lips, pink and wet from where his tongue darted out to wet the chapped skin. His cheeks are splotched with red from the heat of the trailer and the blanket that nurses the two of you into the warmth of its velvet arms. Bathed in an amber light that seeps from his lamp and through the thin sheets, his gaze twinkles like that of a glimmering moon.
The entire universe swims in his eyes, and he’s looking at you with them. You're grateful for the chance to float in their infinity.
A kind face, you think to yourself. Hmm.
You’d never thought about it like that before. Albeit, you were never the kindest to yourself. That’s why you so often sought affirmation from the boy beside you, who held all his love in his hands and so-called cynical eyes.
Sometimes you didn’t think you were pretty, let alone beautiful. But kind? Soft? That’s so much better.
1K notes · View notes
indouloureux · 2 years
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𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲
joseph quinn x reader (blurb)
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summary: early (quiet) domestic moments with your love, joseph; sipping sweet coffee and honey tea, share kisses with minted mouths,indulging in your honey baby's smile
a/n: minimal dialogue bc idk what to put. written on my phone. lost it three times. i promise i'd write mcu peter next istg shoot me in the head if i dont. meanwhile, enjoy this <3
MASTERLIST
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the coffee is sweeter than usual.
mostly because his sleepy daze has him scooping more sugar than he's supposed to, but you don't care. you're eating scrambled eggs with a half-lidded gaze and a tired mouth, and the moment the caffeine evades your mouth does it rid the sleep of your eyes.
"you like it?" he nervously asks, like he doesn't make you coffee more than you buy expensive, mediocre ones on cafes nearby. you hum in clarification, fingers holding the warm mug. "heh."
"i always like it," you tell him. you smile at the redness on the tip of his ears, maybe even at the messy mop of curls on his bedhead. joseph takes a sip of his tea — more honey than milk, and you eye the drink. "y'know i've never tried your tea."
joseph's eyes widen. doe, innocent and pretty, admiring and shocked as they look at you. "really?" his accent twangs in just the right way, laced in a soft croak from the drowsiness that's still there. "several months of dating and you've never tried?"
"well, you always make me coffee. and i'd be too full to have a taste," you spin the spoon around, seeing the brown drink swirl until it descends into a calm wave.
"well, go and try it then," he lifts it up off his saucer and gently takes your coffee in front of you to replace it with his tea. you gladly take it with an excited gasp, joseph laughing at your anticipation.
he watches, quite anxiously, as you taste his tea. you take a small sip, careful not to burn your tongue before you're giving it back to him. " 's good."
"yeah?" his fork jabs on the scrambled egg and shoves it in his mouth.
"yeah."
"that's great, love."
and you eat in silence, with cars ever-so-often passing by your shared abode; the soft clinks of utensils meeting the plates, quiet slurping of your own drinks, and shared glances of appreciation and thankful smiles. joseph tries your sweet coffee while you gather your plates and place it in the sink.
he's offered to wash the dishes, but you prefer to do it yourself. you open the faucet and douse the sponge in dishwashing soap much to his dismay, letting the foam cover your hand and the held plate. you hear his soft humming and funnily enough — up and down by venga boys
"oi, i told you i'd wash 'em," he tuts. but joseph wraps his arms around you, your back to his chest. his chin rests on your hairline and his hands roam around your waist and stomach as you finish the minimal dishes.
"you were taking too long," you lean aside to look at him. the crinkles on his face as he smiles is cute, and you can't stop yourself from giving it a chaste kiss as you place the plates aside and leave them to dry.
joseph takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, instructs you to sit on the sink as he takes the two toothbrushes off the cup holder and takes the liberty to put the toothpaste on before he hands you yours.
then he slots himself between your legs, left hand on your thigh as the other moves the brush inside his mouth until foam covers his pink lips. you mimic him, left hand crossed over to hold his, the other cleaning your teeth.
he bends behind you to the sink and spits the bubbly foam out, though some remains in his mouth. "gimme a kiss," he says, or demands, though the demand comes out as muffled.
"you've got toothpaste," you tell him. "take it out first."
"no," he pulls your hand to remove the brush away, and petulantly kisses your foam-covered mouth. you squeal, and he doesn't stop until you wrap your hands around his neck to pull him closer.
you break away, watching him lean down to wash his mouth but keeps one hand on you still. and he helps you go down to do the same, holding your hair back for you.
but you don't leave the bathroom yet. joseph's got his hands on your back, exploring it like a map, eyes on yours like he's searching for the 'x' to his prized treasure. and the treasure's here, in front of him, pretty and beaming.
"you're so pretty," he murmurs, nose grazing yours in a small kiss. joseph's soft hands come up to cup your face, thumbs brushing the hair away from your face.
you hum. "m, if this is some trick to get inside my pants, it 8 in the morning. i'd like to watch something first." but he laughs and shakes his head, and kisses you again.
it's short but sweet as he pulls away only to give you small pecks of neediness. "jus' the facts, darling, is that so bad?" he teases. "i'll get in your pants later, honey baby. let me kiss you first."
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blueywrites · 1 year
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turtle dove and the crow, part four
A 1940s Farm AU, featuring bsf!neighbor!eddie x fem!reader
story tags: 18+ (minors dni). smut; true love; unexpected pregnancy; angst, angst, angst; parental issues; corporal punishment; scheming, plotting, and betrayal; hurt/comfort; period-typical stigma regarding unwed pregnancy; angst with a happy ending.
chapter tags: please heed this warning and decide if you are prepared to read this chapter, which includes scenes of harsh but period-accurate parental abuse against an 18-year old child. this includes emotional and mental abuse in the form of 'discipline' and depictions of physical punishment. these methods are always harmful and never appropriate. they do not represent the views of the author. avoiding tw/cw's? read the part four summary instead
masterlist | part one | part two | part three | interlude | part four | part five | part six | epilogue | playlist
PART FOUR: THE WEIGHT BENEATH THE SUN (8.6K)
It’s hard to make the moment last
Hard to keep the dreams you have
Hard to let the love inside your heart
The guards are always at the gates
Turning everyone away
But you got through
Didn’t you?
You’re the One I Want — Chris and Thomas
When you were six— two years before Edward Munson became the new boy next door— your mother still hosted garden parties during the warm months. Pa would arrange the iron furniture into a pleasing configuration, ensuring the grass was level and dry beneath the table's heavy feet. The stiff-backed chairs would be spaced precisely from its wrought edges, far enough for ease of entry but close enough that the ladies would not have to stretch their arms too far to reach the cucumber sandwiches. Those Mama would assemble in careful layers, laying them out on a ceramic platter decorated with filigree. Mama's finest pitcher, made of delicate glass and attractive curves, would be used to serve fresh-squeezed lemonade. She'd garnish the sweet drink with muddled mint leaves plucked from the small personal garden she carefully maintains against the backyard fence. A generous spray of flowers would finish the trio of treasures awaiting the town's ladies, invited by your mother for an afternoon of light refreshments and genteel socializing.
Your sister, Virginia, has the supreme honor of being allowed to join the garden party for the first time this year. She is five years your senior in age and ten your superior in manner, evident in the graceful way she smooths the skirt of her shiny pink dress, perching herself with impeccable posture on the very edge of the iron chair situated to your mother’s right side. Poised and prim, Virginia accepts a glass of lemonade, taking a tiny sip before placing the china delicately to the right of her plate. Ever observant, her eyes dart around the table, absorbing gestures with ease; she follows her sip quickly with a dab of her napkin before arranging it dutifully on her lap again. She is rewarded for this, as the ladies generously indulge her presence among them.
You would be jealous of your sister's invitation if you gave a hoot about such things, but you are entirely disinterested in all of it. You care not for hushed titters floating from beneath their sunbonnets and the passing of cucumber sandwiches, which are nibbled little by little and then chewed behind demure palms as gossip is exchanged. Instead, you've happily plopped yourself behind the apple tree, back to rough bark and short legs spread wide in the ticklish grass. 
Methodically, one by one, you have been picking the delicate yellow petals off the heads of dandelion weeds, dropping each one to collect in the basin of the sunbonnet cradled between your thighs. It's painstaking work and nonsensical, perhaps, but it serves to satisfy some innate curiosity inside you. The purpose of this is unclear; your actions are confusing, the way children's play is often confusing to everyone but the child. But since you are quietly occupying yourself, and your mother and sister are busy socializing, they are happy to leave you to your own devices.
They are happy, that is, until your eye is caught by something much more exciting than plucking weeds.
Your neighbor down the lane has just finished imparting some succulent gossip to the gathering, and her lips are pursed against a grin as she relishes the reaction to her news. Her revelation has the intended effect: shock ripples around the table, but it is mixed with the suppressed delight of knowing a new, tantalizing secret. The party-goers exchange glances, searching for cues in one another, all wanting to know more but reluctant to appear too eager.
"Oh, my goodness." Mama places her hand over her heart as if in regret, but her eyes are gleaming. Interest thrums within the hush of her voice as she begins to ask, "And what d'you suppose he might now do, on account of—?"
"Mama!"
Her question is interrupted by your delighted cry. She turns to see you holding aloft that which made you abandon your collection. Back by the tree, those petals have spilled from the tipped sunbonnet to scatter heedlessly across the grass. "Look't what I caught!" you squeak, eyes alight with eager, innocent delight. "It's a big one, too!"
Despite your excitement, you cradle the large bullfrog gently in your hands, mindful of its comfort as you present it to your mother. You considered it quite the feat to catch the frog without causing it alarm, and when its strong legs twitch against your palm without attempting to flee, pride glows beneath the dirt streaks on your round cheeks.
Your mother does not share your sentiment. 
The way her expression contorts is so opposite what you expected that she may as well have smacked you across the face. Your earlier excitement is smothered like water douses a match, and promptly, you drop the frog. 
You drop it as if by acting quickly, you can undo whatever has caused your Mama offense. But it is not enough. Your mother stares at you, and though the look in her eyes is one you are too young to fully decipher, a parent's disapproval is sensed innately, and felt deeply.
One year after you drop the bullfrog, Mama will sell the garden furniture to purchase seeds and stock in preparation for the coming hardship, and the garden parties would end. Two years after you drop the bullfrog, Eddie will roll in like a summer storm to join his uncle in the red house next door. Seven years after you drop the bullfrog, Virginia will establish a nest of her own, leaving you as the only unwed daughter left in your parents' roost. But no matter how many years pass, you will never forget how your mother's stare made you feel. In the garden, a heavy stone sank in your gut, sickeningly leaden, steadily crushing your delicate insides with each second you spent pinned by her furious stare.
This moment in the hayloft reminds you of that. But there is no stone of lead in your stomach this time. This time, with the salt tang of Eddie's seed still lingering on your lips, your entire body turns to solid, petrified rock. 
Your mother stares up at you from the barn floor. Her face is contorted, screwed up tight with shock and rage, but her eyes are wide, wide enough to swallow you up entirely like a sinkhole would. She traps you. And you remain there, locked tight until the seethe of her voice boils hot from between her lips, blistering the ruddy flesh on its path to you.
"Git. Down. Here."
Each word is a spitfire bullet, enunciated so precisely so as not to be misconstrued. The burn rushes down your spine to melt your solid rock into magma. 
Your muscles are clenched tight, but the warm pulse once stoked between your legs has deadened. You're thrumming instead with horror, with deep, all-consuming dread. Where one moment ago you were heavy as a sinking stone, now you are unsteady, shaky like the first time Eddie coaxed you into a rowboat. 
You can't grab hold of his rough, broad palm to settle yourself this time, and you don't dare risk a glance at the man still nestled in that soft bed of hay. To catch his eye would be torture of a different kind. Instead, you rush to obey your mother's command. Your knee scrapes raw against old, splintery wood as you scramble around and dip one foot to catch the rung of the ladder. 
It's a sturdy old thing, that ladder. Good thing, too, because it holds fast as you cling to it with shuddering fingers and legs so wobbly, they clatter against its rungs with each step toward the perilous ground. By the time you reach the floor, the knee you'd scraped has gone numb. You want to turn your chin down and see if your dress has bloomed a crimson flower of blood, but your neck is unyielding. It's hard enough to step back from the security the ladder provides. All the will your spirit possesses must be channeled into facing the woman looming like a cloud of miasma behind you.
There is no time to brace for a confrontation, but you force your face into as docile an expression as possible before you meet your Mama head-on. She is short and portly, hunched up in such a way as to make her smaller in theory, though, in reality, the sight is only more imposing to you. You expect to meet her piercing stare again, but she isn't looking at you. Instead, she's got one eye hooked on the edge of the hayloft and her lip caught in a sneer so deep it's almost a snarl. 
"You too, Edward," she spits, and your throat dries to dust. "Don't think I'm ignorant of your bein' up there with'r."
The silence that follows is stifling, crowding in on you from all sides. The pressure doesn't ease even as that pregnant pause turns to the creaking and groaning of wood, which protests as the weight of an unseen body shifts toward the hayloft's edge. The thud of booted feet that replaces the wood's cry is little consolation; your heart kicks up at the steady plod that commences, matching it in rhythm but pounding twice as fast. You don't dare to turn and look or even to fiddle with your skirt nervously. Your hands remain still at your sides as your mother stares above your head, watching Eddie climb down from the hayloft. Her eyes dip slowly and steadily along with the thumping of those booted feet until her gaze is even with your face. The final step down behind you is quieter than the rest, and your throat tightens as you sense Eddie's hesitance in the sound. 
As he alights on the ground, Mama's eyes suddenly shift. Where once she had been staring almost uncannily in your direction, as if she may or may not have been trying to look you in the eye, a sudden cut and glint make it abundantly clear that now— now— your mother is gazing directly at you. 
It's all you can do to keep from trembling.
You vaguely hear the shuffle-scrape of Eddie's footsteps and feel the warmth of his body as he comes to stand beside you. The tiniest glance reveals the extent of his mortification: his pale cheeks are beet red with a flush that creeps down his throbbing neck, and his eyes are squinched half-shut as if bracing for a blow. His adam's apple bobs, and unconsciously, you swallow at the same time.
When Eddie finally opens his mouth, all that eeks out is the briefest croak before your mother interrupts coldly. "You best be gettin' home to your uncle now, Edward."
While the words don't drip with venom, the mention of Wayne is nothing if not a threat, and Eddie recognizes it as so. You would never expect him to argue; in fact, you'd be dismayed if he had, but the thought of facing your mother's wrath alone covers the frozen dread inside you with a fine layer of poignant sorrow. You are heavy, but now you are empty, too. 
Weakly, Eddie clears his throat to rasp, "Yes, ma'am." Your chin trembles at the sound of his voice, but your eyes only begin to sting when you feel the soft, subtle draw of his fingers across the small of your back as he passes by you to disappear out of sight beyond the barn doors. The touch is one last offering of comfort from your beloved before you both must face the consequence of your transgressions.
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In the kitchen, Mama takes you apart.
The way she lashes you with her tongue is harsh and unforgiving. Each word darts across the kitchen counter, catches you with its claws, and burrows beneath your tender skin, sinking deep to carve into your marrow. 
"How dare you." Her voice quivers with the force of her rage. "How dare you bring such disgrace upon our family. You know darn well that we forbade you from seeing that boy, yet you went behind our backs anyway. And now, to make matters worse, I find you been carryin' on like a," her lips twist up to spit a sharper barb, "hussy up in the hayloft. What kind of a girl do you think that makes you, y/n?"
She pauses long enough to make you question whether she expects an answer, but she carries on without you. Her eyes dart along the cabinets, unseeing as she chuckles mirthlessly. "And, oh. M'blood could just boil thinkin' how that boy could set there at his dinner table and talk about how good we raised our daughter, only for you two t'turn around and… and…." 
She stutters off, wild eyes rolling as she works herself up. The deepening of her wince uglies her visage, so that lines crease at the corners of her mouth where before there were none. And oh, how foolish you were to think the sight of her bulging eyes would be in any way gratifying. How deeply, utterly stupid of you to think such a thing.
"What you done is unspeakable. How'm I supposed to show my face in town, knowing what you been up to right underneath my nose? It turns my stomach just to think about what y'were doin' up there w'him." 
Each word sinks deep inside you. It’s a barrage of all you deserve because it's the truth. And this is just the beginning. Because there's disgust there, in Mama's screwed-up face, and there's fury, too. But beneath those, there's also hurt— the evidence of a deep wound torn open by your impropriety. It's a hurt you aren't sure you can mend. 
At that realization, fat, hot tears begin to roll unimpeded down your cheeks. They drip from your quivering chin, which tightens with the occasional sniffle as you try to keep yourself from collapsing to the floor, wrapping your arms around your mother’s skirt, and pressing yourself to her shins in pitiful supplication. 
Though Mama is looking at you, she doesn't seem to register that you've started to cry. "I just can't understand it." Mama's fingers press divots into her temples, and her head wags absently as if in subconscious denial. "Virginia was your age when she married her Lawrence. She knew the way of things. And now look at 'er— got her own home and three children to raise." Her hands drop sharply, and a flash of judgment returns. "She's a proper lady. And then what d'we have? You. I never thought I'd see the day when a daughter of mine would behave like this." 
The burrs stick sharply, coating you in a prickly sadness that only intensifies when your Mama's plump arms tighten to her sides, crossing beneath her bosom, cinching in tight as she presses a fist to her lips. 
"Lord help me— what'm I gonna do with you now?" 
It's so much quieter than all else she's said, so much duller, and yet all the more painful for it.
Her name on your lips is a whimper, a sob, a plea all at once. "Mama—" You suddenly feel no more than six years old with dirt streaked on your shameful cheeks, filled with the crushing sense of all you've done wrong.
"Don't." She cuts you off firmly. Your teeth click together painfully as your jaw snaps closed. She stares at you for a long moment. "Th'last thing I wanna do is talk about what was goin' on up there, but clearly…" 
You read the intention in your mother's restless shifting, the discomfited rocking of her heels. Heat floods up your throat, a sickly blaze of shame. "Well," she continues stiffly, "I know y'had your mouth on him, and that's… that's one thing. But I need to know." Her fist drops to reveal a stiff upper lip, but her voice quavers slightly as she asks a question that doesn't stick like burrs or burrow beneath your skin. Instead, it pierces straight through the center of you. 
"Have you had relations with Edward?"
Your shock is like the firm twist of a leaky spigot. The steady flow of your tears ceases so abruptly that it's nearly enough to distract from the question itself.
Nearly enough. Not quite enough.
Horrified panic surges up as the question sinks in: Mama's askin' me if I had sex with Eddie. The feeling claws its way past your stomach, past your heart, past the heat in your throat, and straight up to your head. It rushes there, leaving you dizzy. Black fuzz spreads across your vision. 
And the lie springs up, ready and poised behind your teeth. It's a denial borne of fear, desperation, and the deep ache beating in the child's heart still nestled within your grown one. That tiny heart flutters against your ribs, recalling the plink of music box drift-offs and gentle John the Rabbit wake-ups; the balm of kisses pressed to scraped knees and hurt feelings wrung out with tight hugs; the roundness of laughing cheeks streaked with flour and little hands cradled in large palms, guided to knead love into dough, right here, in this room, all those years ago.
Could you survive the loss that would come with confession? Could you bear to see the lingering light— the final vestige of a mother's regard for her child— die behind her eyes? 
Led by a child's heart and a mind seized by panic, the choice you make is not a choice, but an inevitability.
"No," you whimper, and such sincerity pools within your eyes that even one who knows better might be convinced you believe that. "No, I din't lay with him, Mama. I swear it."
The softening of her features, fractional though it is, brings you such tender relief that tears spring anew at the corners of your lashes. 
"Well, all right," she says finally, and while her voice isn't quite fond, you can see the creases around her mouth ease, fading from deep crevices back to the faint lines you're familiar with. It's a gift you wouldn't dare waste. "Y'know what needs to be done, then."
Without a hint of protest, you retrieve the wooden spoon from the crock on the counter, passing it into your mother's waiting hand and presenting your backside to her. 
With balled fists and a rigid spine, you take your punishment. You press your lips flat to keep all your noises in as Mama spanks you with the rounded back of the wooden spoon. The even raps— ten against your clothed buttocks— smart and sting, but they do not ache. Her actions are not hesitant or reluctant, but they aren’t gluttonous either. Your mother does not grow fat feasting on your pain; she is merely obliged to provide it.
You are braced for another impact when you hear the spoon clatter back into the crock. When you realize another blow will not come, you face her again. Silence reigns the room as you take stock of yourself: warm, stinging skin, pressure in your cheeks, nose, and forehead from crying, and a new, yawning hollowness inside.
"M'sorry, Mama," you sniffle, throat thick with remorse, "M'sorry for disobeying you, a-and bringin' shame on the family. I— I jus'..." You choke and try again. "I—"
There is only one justification, however inadequate it might seem to your mother. It's spoken in the misery of your crumpled brow, in the glaze of your big wet eyes, in the copper of your lower lip where you've worried the spot Eddie's kisses still sweetly linger.
I love him.
"I know." Mama replies as if you'd said it aloud, and her voice is tight, tight with what she is trying to suppress. "I know you do." Her bosom heaves with a heavy, bracing sigh. "But y'know what your Pa said." She doesn’t seem to feel the need to be more specific, and you muster a smidgeon of gratitude for that.
"I know," you echo her, and your voice is tiny and broken. You are tiny and broken. And tired. You realize all at once that you are so tired, it's a labor just to keep from lying down right here on the floor. "R'you gonna tell 'im what I did?"
A jerky nod confirms it, and you think you'd feel more afraid if you could feel anything at all. "I'll speak with your Pa when he gets home," Mama tells you. "Now go'n up to your room. Don't expect you'll get any supper tonight." 
You stare at her, solemn and unresisting, and in that stillness, you can see the moment she hesitates. The flicker that passes across her crinkled eyes is brief, but you see it, and the hush of her voice tells a story all its own. "Don't come down for nothin'," she murmurs intently. "No matter what y'hear. Just stay in your room 'til the morning. Hear me?" 
You can feel yourself wilt further into exhaustion with each passing moment. "Yes, Mama," you croak in dutiful agreement.
The press of her cool palm against your warm, sticky cheek is brief. It lingers only long enough for you to barely realize it has been offered. But that fleeting sensation keeps you alert enough to drag yourself up to your bedroom, softly shut the door, strip off your dress and chemise, and pull on your thin nightgown before relinquishing yourself to the sunken mattress. At that point, you cease to tick, like the final tines have plinked within a wound music box. You have landed on your back atop the covers, and there you will stay until you can summon the strength to turn onto your side.
Though you are tired, sleep does not come to offer a reprieve. Instead, though your eyes begin to strain, you stare at the crack in the plaster above your head. It's the same one you traced while waiting for your crow to land on your windowsill yesterday, yesterday, yesterday. Yesterday beats in the useless yearning of your heart, trailing down your temples to pool in the hollows of your ears.
Yesterday, Eddie held you in your bed until you fell asleep. Today, he never would again.
Heavy footsteps rouse you, and you jolt awake. 
At some point in the afternoon, outside your conscious memory, the slow leaking of your eyes had finally ceased. Blearily, you curled into yourself, tucking your wrists beneath your chin and finally drifting off into unconsciousness. Now, your bedroom is not the way you remember it. It's dizzying at first when your eyes pop open not to the crack in white plaster you'd expected but instead to the sight of your bedroom window. The outside is dark beyond the gauze curtains. The air now hums with the dusk song of cicadas. 
You have little time to orient yourself before the heavy footsteps that woke you yield to the squeal of a door hinge. Your neck is stiff when you lift your head, attempting to blink the strain from your eyes.
Cast in dimness, Pa looms over you like the shadow of death.
Your father is typically imposing, but his visage is made even more severe by the lack of light. His long face appears to be carved with crags, which harshen the snarl of his brow and turn the wrinkles of his sneer into jagged gashes lining his thin lips. What little light remains glints off the bony line of his nose and the flash of his hard, unyielding eyes. He stands unmoving as if etched from obsidian; the only feature to betray him as man and not stone is the ticking of his square jaw. A muscle there jumps erratically, twitching out its silent fury.
Eyes wide, heart fluttering, breath quick and shallow, you lay still as a prey animal hoping to escape a predator's sight. That is no use. Quick as a rattler, Pa's hand strikes out, and the yawning hollowness inside you becomes an uproar of fear flooding your throat.
He takes firm hold of your arm, thick fingers like a vice pinching your skin. When he tugs at you roughly, you let him maneuver you to the edge of the bed. You keep yourself limp and unresisting because, now that you've been caught in his jaws, you know he'll only bite down harder if you don't. And you even shimmy to assist him, fingers twisted tight in the hem of your nightgown to keep it from dragging up your legs. Preoccupied with maintaining your modesty, you're unprepared to be dragged beyond the footboard; you lurch off the bed in an ungainly slump, and your knees clunk painfully to the hardwood floor. 
A shock of pain shoots up both of your legs, and you muffle your reaction with lips pressed tight, following the silent command of your father's grip as he insists you turn to face the mattress. He drops you only once you're kneeling how he wants you, and the loss of his clamped fingers is a relief. Feeling begins to return to your arm as blood flows freely again, and a dull throb starts up in the place he'd gripped you. 
Yet that's nothing compared to what you know is coming when you hear the metallic clink of a buckle. It's followed by the unthreading of his belt, which shicks through the loops of his blue jeans with a drag of denim and a snap of leather breaking free. 
Moments pass in agonizing silence as you wait for the first crack of the belt. Everything inside you tightens in preparation for the pain to come— your muscles, your bones, your heart, and your spirit. You brace yourself, thighs quivering as you hold so perfectly still despite how your skin has begun to dew with nervous sweat. As you hold that stillness, you can even detect the sting of your mother's milder punishment throbbing in time with the pulse that thrums within your tense body. 
Your head has just begun to sag when Pa's voice grates loudly like the grinding of stone, gruff and hoarse. "Y'pologized to your Mama for your behavior?" 
You rush to answer. "Yes, sir." 
"Y'ever gonna dare sneakin' around under my roof again?" 
"No, sir." 
A grunt follows your reply. It sounds satisfied enough to untwist a little of the fear inside you. "Y'ashamed of yourself for what you done with that piece of trash? You regret lettin' him," he pauses so the spit of his words might sting you worse, "ruin you with his filthy hands?" 
Unbidden, Eddie's face blooms in your mind's eye: wild curls of soft dark frizz, crinkled eyes lightened to amber in the sunshine, soft nose dusted with cinnamon freckles, pink lips stretched wide in a smile that makes your heart squeeze even in your memory. You see him there, your beloved crow, and your chin trembles with the truth. You manage to steady it so that your second lie of the day can come out strong. "Yes, sir." 
But perhaps, in your remembering, you hesitate a second too long, because your answer is quickly followed by fire cracking across the crease of your thigh and cheek. 
You yelp with shock and pain, reeling as the contact burns through you, beginning as a white-hot ache before dulling to a throb. You tremble, breathing shakily as your father mutters, "I'll make damn sure of that."
Pa belts you across your buttocks and thighs, attempting to scald that shame into you with the cruelty he wields by his hand. But the whip of the belt is not the same as the lashing of your mother's words in the kitchen; it could never be. Not when Eddie's face has bloomed before you, bathed in summer sunshine. Not in this place, where the bunching of your fingers in the bedspread only makes you think about strong arms around your middle, soft breath on your cheek, and the tickle of wild curls against your shoulder. 
Your father feasts on the cries he draws from you. He takes them as evidence of your guilt and shame. But you're fortified by the memory of Eddie's strong body cradling you in this bed, the breadth of his wide palm on your mound as he brings you to the pinnacle of pleasure, holding you snugly against him when you fall into surrender.
Harshness could never drive out reverence. Pain could never drive out love.
Pa might leave you welted and whimpering against the footboard, but he can never make you waver in your devotion to Edward Munson.
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That's not, of course, due to a lack of trying. Because try he does. Pa efforts to cleave you from Eddie in any way he knows how. He begins with a belting and continues the next morning with a visit to your neighbor, Mr. Wayne.
He's over there 'til midday, which you know because you do not rouse from your bed until he returns. You'd lain there on your side for the entirety of the morning, wrists again tucked beneath your chin, but legs straight since curling them made the throbbing in your bottom and thighs sharpen to a burning ache. Throughout the morning, you stared out the window, watching the light crawl steadily up the red siding of the house next door. 
You stirred only when Mama came to tend you. She didn't speak, but you could sense her sentiment in the mild soap and damp cloth she used to wash you, in the gentle pat of a soft towel against your cleansed skin, in the earthy spice of the calendula salve she dabbed on your welts. After she was done, your nightgown fluttered back into place around your hip and flank with the lightest touch. You nibbled on the toast sweetened with butter and honey she left for you on the bedside table, but you did not quit your bed.
This was not the first time Pa had taken the belt to you for some indiscretion, but it was by far the harshest. That's evident as the painful throbbing in your lower half intensifies when you prop yourself up on a palm, testing how it feels to sit up. Your father finds you in the midst of this endeavor: leaning gingerly on one flank, your lips pressed tight and pale. 
You glance toward him warily as he bullies open your bedroom door, and he squints back but doesn't acknowledge your pained expression. "Get y'rself presentable," he grunts. "You're comin' with me next door."
Humiliation, it seems, is the next tool Pa has decided to use to cleave you from Eddie. You know it isn't unreasonable to ask you to apologize to Mr. Wayne for your inappropriate behavior. In fact, now that you've had time to reflect on your actions, you even want to apologize to your neighbor. You cannot— will not— denounce your devotion to Eddie, but you do regret disrespecting Mr. Wayne. He's a man who has been nothing but kind and patient with you and his nephew throughout all the years you've known him, and to think you'd wounded him with your actions makes your throat thicken with genuine regret. 
So you dress hastily in your loosest, lightest frock and spend the majority of the time Pa affords you sitting at your writing desk, crafting a missive of carefully-chosen words you hope will convey to Wayne the depth of your sincere contrition. It takes some scratch-outs and restarts, but by the time Pa returns to retrieve you, you feel satisfied with what you've written.
You expect to apologize to Mr. Wayne for the offence you have caused him, and you expect to make the apology in person, so you don’t hesitate as you follow your father into the red house. It is also unsurprising that Pa would watch you deliver that apology. Knowing his nature, it's expected that he'd want to ensure your efforts are satisfactory. But you do not anticipate the way Pa ushers you through your neighbors' house, one palm pressed flat to your back to keep you from retreating when you see Eddie sitting next to Wayne at the dining room table.
Eddie doesn't look any worse for wear, not in the way you feel after enduring Pa's punishment last night, but he isn't unaffected by yesterday's events. He's wilted like a shade plant left too long in the hot sun: limp curls clumped at the ends, broad shoulders slumped, pink lips sagging at the corners. His umber eyes are smudged with purple in the hollows of their sockets as he stares down at the table. He doesn't look up as Pa urges you forward. 
Your heart seizes at the sight of him, stalling as familiar, hungry want mixes with poignant, thrumming sadness. The impulse to rush to the table and throw your arms around him, to bury your fingers in his curls and cradle his face to your breast, to feel his hot arms crush you against him— all comfort, all sweetness, all desperate relief— is nearly overwhelming. 
To resist is worse agony than any strike of leather, but resist you must. Pa's firm hand on your back demands you stand behind the chair across from Mr. Wayne; all the while as he maneuvers you, you will your crow to look up. He doesn't, though you can tell he now knows you're here. You see it in the tightening of his brow and the twist of his plush lips, which pinch with the effort to keep himself at bay. 
Pa scrapes a chair out, settling himself heavily down into its seat. Standing beside him, you fidget with the crisply-folded letter, pinched fingertips crawling slowly along its edges as you pour all your will and longing into a stare that Eddie refuses to return. 
The stalemate ends as Pa clears his throat loudly, growing impatient. "Go'n, now," he prompts, crossing his arms and kicking his feet out under the table in a scuff and thump of heavy boots.
You steal one more lingering glance at Eddie before dropping your eyes to your hands and unfolding your letter. It is silent at the table as you turn it right-side up to read from. You lick your lips and take a breath to steady your nerves before beginning.
"Dear Mr. Wayne," you begin, reading in a cadence reminiscent of your schoolteachers' voices— melodic, perhaps too overly-expressive. "I want to tell you that I am so very sorry—" 
A lump rises suddenly in your throat, and you falter; you begin again, speaking a little faster, though you can't disguise the tiny tremble that has emerged. "I am so very sorry for what I've done to disrespect you. I have been carrying on in a shameful manner…."
The apology becomes a blur as you race to complete it before losing your composure. As you express your remorse and acknowledge your wrongdoing, the shaking of your voice only worsens; by the end, your chin is wobbling hard enough that your teeth start chattering.
"Tha's all right, dear," Wayne interjects, gruff but not unkind. Never unkind. "I kin what you're tryin' to express. 'ppreciate your apology."
You nod jerkily, accepting the reprieve gratefully. You fold your letter back up with trembling fingers and pass it over the table to your neighbor, who tucks it away in his pocket.
With a jut of his chin, Pa motions to Eddie. "S'your turn now, boy," he says, and there's enough vitriol roiling there beneath the surface to more than compensate for Wayne's lack. Pa's shrewd eyes dart to you. "Sit down now."
You don't dare disobey, though your stiffness and pinched expression bely your discomfort as you perch gingerly on the edge of the chair. Eddie rises sharply, and your gaze catches on the clench of his broad fist at his side, how his ruddy knuckles have blanched with the force of his grip. You know they'd tightened at the sight of your pain, and a sudden surge of longing nearly leaves you breathless.
You'd urged Eddie to look up at you when he'd been seated, but now you know why he didn't because neither can you, now that the positions are reversed. You can't look up at his face and see the expression there. It's hard enough to hear his voice as he apologizes to your father for touching you without his permission, for the deep offense of wanting you when he'd expressly been told he wasn't allowed because he was too wild and frivolous, and that he'd proven himself as such for what he'd done with you in the hayloft. 
At the end of Eddie's apology, Pa grunts his acceptance. Then, he informs you in no uncertain terms what now will happen. It is the result of his lengthy discussion with Wayne this morning; in the end, they both agreed on certain truths moving forward, and they share those with you now.
They tell you that you and Eddie have been stripped of your freedoms and grounded for further notice. That you aren't to attempt to see or speak with one another. That you should begin thinking about your separate futures and leave this silly summer romance behind. That you are both lucky they are benevolent enough to allow you to continue living side-by-side without sending one or both of you away. 
You are bidden to acknowledge the rules, and you intone your obedience, as does Eddie. And when Pa is satisfied that you have been sufficiently cleaved from the boy across the table, you are herded back around the tall fence and deposited onto your property.
Having seen the defeat written across your miserable face, Pa leaves you to your own devices. You choose to sit beneath the apple tree, hissing at the lance of pain that races up your buttocks and into your spine as you thump down into the grass. Stubbornly, you ignore the low throbbing in favor of deciphering the storm inside you.
Under the apple tree, a billow of emotion spreads within, complex and layered, filled with contradictions. Because what you've done is indeed wrong, and you know that. But to take the depth of your relationship with Eddie and reduce it to an indiscreet romp, a careless mistake, an insignificant dalliance chalked up to the folly of youthful impulse… 
Well, you know this also. Down to your core, you know that that isn't right. And no one rivals you in conviction once your mind is set.
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Twelve days ago, the intimacy you shared with your crow came to fruition in a wondrous way. As you pass your days in solitude within your roost, that wonder begins to transform you. It starts with a letter. 
Though the tall fence running the length of your adjoining properties keeps you apart from Eddie, and your parents' watchful eyes prevent any wandering from your front porch, one minor breach remains in those steadfast defenses. It's the tree stump rotted straight through, the only place where the grass of your backyards mingles to become one. Secrets are concealed there, announced by the innocuous song of two woodland birds: the turtle dove and the crow.
You don't hear the call the day following your public apologies, or even the day after that. It comes on the third day while you're sat on a stool in the goat pen, working down the nanny's final teat with one hand. Milking her has been slow and steady work, impeded because her kid is leaning against your flank, content so long as you keep one hand on his small bristly side. His tiny tail beats rhythmically against your skirt as her milk rains hollowly into the metal bucket with each pull of your pinched fingers. And when the stream has turned to a dribble, you hear that unmistakable sound: a deep, harsh 'kaa-kaa-kaa' that has your heart pattering instantly against your ribs as your head whips of its own accord toward the fence. You strain to see Eddie through those tiny gaps, but you're too far away for the gesture to mean much. Your eyes dip to second best— that familiar stump, gnarled and weathered gray, splintered but surprisingly soft and spongy to the touch as if it would give way under a heavy hand or foot. You cannot see into the dark crevice at its base, but you know what now awaits you there.
You want to throw yourself to the ground and reach elbow-deep into that damp space, dirt and dress be damned. But you know the second you leave the bucket unattended, all the milk you'd painstakingly gathered would be claimed by the kid. You squeeze out the teet a few more times— perhaps a bit too hastily, since the nanny flicks her ears at you— before snatching up the bucket, bringing it to the kitchen to strain with cheesecloth and tuck into the icebox, leaving the bucket and soiled cloth in the sink out of sight. I'll wash it right quick as soon as I check the stump, you assure yourself. You couldn't possibly wait another moment longer to see what Eddie has left for you to find.
You're thrumming with impatience and excitement as you pop the screen door back open, struggling not to rush toward your prize and draw suspicion from anyone who may see you. Thankfully, a furtive glance around the yard ensures you are alone, and with nothing else to impede you, you quickly gather up your dress and kneel before the stump to claim your offering. 
You reach past the blanket of fertile green moss that skirts the stump's base, mind flicking through the possibilities of what you might find in there. It will surely be a scrap of paper, but what will its few words convey? Will Eddie beg you to join him at the creek one last time? Tell you he's enlisted someone's help, an emissary of sorts, to go between you so you can speak again? Will he express his longing for your body's closeness? His pain at your separation? 
A fluttering thrill blooms low inside you, cautious and sweet, fearful in its intensity. Because another wondering crosses your mind before you have the good sense to prevent it, and that wondering is this:
With an acknowledgment, perhaps, of how unideal the timing and the method is… will Eddie finally put words to the truth you see in that soft expression that graces his features, the one that's only come out for you, only you, only ever you?
Your fingertips graze thin smooth paper nested in a cradle of grass. As you pull your arm out of the stump, you can imagine it so plainly, written in that familiar scrawl: three words to turn a scrap into the most precious of treasures.
But the paper that comes out is not torn hastily from the corner of a brown paper bag as it usually is. Instead, you’re holding a folded piece of stationary, lightweight and crisp white, though its edges have soaked up some dirty dampness from where it has been hiding.
You don't have the luxury of time needed to examine the emotions that stir at this unexpected sight; you need to get to safety first. You tuck the letter beneath the band of your pocketless apron, fumbling with the bow at the small of your back to tighten it. There the paper stays, pressed against your stomach as you return to the kitchen to wash the bucket and cheesecloth. You lay them out to dry, then pass by your mother in a brush of fabric down the narrow hallway. Lightheaded, heart thumping, you creak up the stairs to your bedroom, closing your door and releasing a woosh of held breath. You sink to the floor in front of it, pressing your back to the wood. In lieu of true privacy, this position keeps someone from bursting suddenly in on you before you can conceal what you're doing. With that assurance, you shift forward, untying that tight bow and letting the apron fall across your legs, revealing a flutter of crisp white.
That stirring of emotions returns full force as you run your thumb along the bottom edge of the paper, wiping the collected dirt absently on the hem of your dress. As you unfold it and Eddie's penciled scrawl is revealed, the first wave of your emotion crests to sting sweetly in the corners of your eyes.
The letter isn't particularly long. It doesn't wax poetic about your grace and charm or meander through the hills and valleys of your shared story. It little matters when you can hear Eddie's teasing rasp in every sentence, see his wild beauty in every word, and feel his firm touch in each uneven scratch of letters into the page.
My Dove, Eddie murmurs against your temple, and you sigh, melting with the sticky sweet honey as he voices his claim on you. His Dove. That's what you are. 
"Yes, Eddie," you whisper into the stillness of your empty bedroom, lids low, lashes heavy as you read the next line. 
First things first. Don't you even think about writin' me back. You hear me? Plush lips curl as your besotted expression falls into a pout, and you hear the rasp of his laugh as he cradles your face in his broad, rough palms. S'not that I don't wanna get a letter from you, you know. I just can't have you in any more trouble. It nearly killed me to see how you were hurtin' on account of me. Umber eyes crinkle, and his thumb brushes the corner of your lip. Promise me you'll listen for once. 
You regard him sullenly for a moment. "Fine," you grump, and the crooked smile you're rewarded with softens the edge of your frustration. 
Eddie regards you fondly. I know you don't wanna. But you will anyway, 'cause y'can't help but do what I say now that you're all gooey over me.
You flush with heat, bashful but pleased, twisting your lips against the dopey smile that wants to come out for him. Now that that's settled, he snarks, making you yearn to kiss the knowing tilt right off his lips, I want you to know that… well, I really am sorry for makin' a mess of things for us. Maybe if I'd done different, we wouldn't be where we are right now. No use dwellin' on it or nothin', because what's past is past. But I screwed it up for us, and I don't know what to do to fix it, and I'm just sorry, Dove. I really am. 
"Oh, Eddie—" His name is a soft, feminine sigh of anguish as the sting returns full force, burning insistently behind your eyes. You grab up his hands, squeezing them tight; the paper wrinkles in your grip. "Eddie, you didn't make a mess of anything. It's not your fault at all, what's happened."
He stares at you mournfully, dark eyes heavy and sad, continuing as if you hadn't spoken. And I know it's only been a few days since I seen you, but I miss you something fierce. S'like my arm's been cut clean off. His lips quirk up just slightly in the corners. And you'll say that's just me bein' dramatic as always, but I mean it. It really does hurt me that much to be away from you.
Eddie's curls brush your cheeks as he gathers you close to him, pressing his nose to the top of your hair. Wish I could hold you. Be there for you, take care of you. But I guess this's all I can do for now. He breathes in deep, and your heart twists sweetly in your chest at the feeling of his breath there— a cool inhale, and then warmth puffing in short bursts when he murmurs, You know you're my best friend, but you're so much more than that. Y'always have been. I told you I'd never let anyone take you from me, and I intend to keep my word, no matter how long I gotta wait.
Your first tear falls, and Eddie's arms tighten around you. He presses a kiss to your hair. In the meantime, he rasps, quiet but sure and brash as always, if you find yourself missin' me, or if you're havin' a hard go of it, or if you just wanna remind yourself where I am. All you gotta do is call for me, Turtle Dove. And when I call back, what I'm really sayin' is, 'I'm here. I'm here, and I ain't goin' nowhere.'
On the page, there's a gap of space and a scratched-out word, and you can feel Eddie's adam's apple bob in a gulp. And if I'm missin' you, or… or if I'm havin' a hard go of it. If you still want me the way that I want you.
The final line of the letter begins to fuzz while you stare down at it, expanding in a bloom of dark-on-white as more tears flood your eyes. But you don't need to see it; the words have already been etched into your heart. 
Will you call back to me? So I know you're here, and you ain't goin' anywhere?
Those two questions close the letter; there is no signature. After all, when two like souls flutter their wings and settle themselves to perch together on a shared wire, names become nothing more than an afterthought. 
Paper flattens to the wooden floor. It crinkles as you press against it with your palm, leveraging yourself up to your feet blindly as your stirrings finally overtake you in a rush of tears. They flow over as you lurch around the footboard to the windowsill, pushing the gauzy curtains heedlessly aside; they catch the corners of your lips as your fingers twist the stiff window hinge, and your smile stretches in time with the window's jerky progress up the frame. 
September air floods in, ruffling gauze and soothing over your forehead and cheeks. The humid heat of summer has finally broken, leaving mugginess a thing of the past. And it's into that air, scented with crisp wind and the first dry musk of fading leaves, that you call for your crow. 
Your first coo isn't as graceful as usual because your voice is choked by sorrow and joy combined. But you do not let that stop you. You call out your bedroom window again and again, as loud as you've ever been, eyes fixed on the stoop at the back of the red house. You call and call until the door springs open there, and a crow hops out onto the stoop. As you look down upon him, tears run in trails that drip off your chin, and your cheeks begin to ache with the force of your smile. You cup your small hands around your mouth and call again. 
'Turr-turr-turr,' you sing, mimicking the melodic trill of the turtle dove.
This moment will not quell your stirrings. As more days pass, they will billow ever more intensely and change ever more quickly as the transformation continues inside you. Your bitterness and your temper are still to come; you have not seen the last of your aching. 
But, for right now, this is all that matters. A pale face tipped up toward the sun, a cloud of dark curls tossing wild and untamed, a boyish whoop of relief and adoration, and the love that swells within you— still unspoken, but no less true.
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gmanwhore · 17 days
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The inhabitants of Sunshine Terrace/Apartment Block 5598: Personal notes by The dOOrman! You know. The doorman. Of Sunshine Terrace.
Roman Stilinsky: Pleasant. Like no real stuff for him. We rarely ever talk. I mean, like. We talk enough for me to know him I guess? He hates the taste of black tea and he likes jazz. That’s all I really know. 
Lois Stilinsky: She’s a bit of a gossip, and is probably the best at makeup in the whole apartment! She’s not a huge fan of having to keep her looks the same all the time. She loves the smell of grapefruit and her favorite perfume smells like it. 
Robertsky Peachman: He doesn’t talk much! He’s not stupid like some people think, he’s just like that. He’s a hard worker and I can respect that. He can’t stand loud noises.
Albertsky Peachman: He can be just a bit rude, but it’s ok. It’s not often. He just wants to get home. I just don’t think he likes people all that much. He always shuts the door to the front lobby behind him even if it closes on its own. 
Angus Ciprianni: I don’t have mush to say anything but he is so fake. He also throws a lot of parties to literally everyone’s annoyance. Especially me! His shoelaces are fake, he can’t tie them and he hates birds. 
Selenne and Elenois Sverchtz: They are the faces of the “sameness is beauty” movement, a new trend encouraging people to stick to particular outfits and looks and not change them. As twins they were deemed the perfect candidates for this. They are a bit uncanny as they do in fact. Just act like the same person just reflected in a mirror. They also have cats. Two. They are twins. They are pleasant to be around, but tend to leave other people out of their inside jokes. One of their jokes is laughing at palimdromes. 
Arnold Schmicht: He used to be a horror writer before. Ten years ago. He is not trying horror writer anymore, he tends towards more domestic pieces generally inspired by our neighbours. I’ve read a few of his books, both old and recent. I find his new pieces also have a certain sense of dread built into them, like he wants so desperately to explore those darer topics again. You also wouldn’t clock him as a horror writer! He loves jokes, and is a very bright, talkative man. He’s also just great to hang out with. He loves being asked about his latest project, and he likes eating lemons like oranges. 
Gloria Schmict: She isn’t as done with everything as she looks! She’s just usually really tired after a long day of helping people at the bank. She has quite the dry sense of humour, but that doesn’t mean she’s not fun to talk to! She’s one of the most observant of my neighbours, which also makes her slightly paranoid. I definitely get it, though. We have a sort of solidarity I think. She’s afraid of spiders, but she likes snakes. Her favorite colour is yellow. 
Izaack Gauss: Despite his general air, he’s actually really easy to talk to. While I’m not close with him at all I get why people like him. He swears by using Gerome’s Hair Gel, it’s the only brand he uses. He also can’t stand the taste of mint unless it’s mixed in with something. 
Margarette Bubbles: Her favorite things to sew are dresses, and she actually specialises in bridesmaid’s dresses though she does do general repairs for people. She always has her bag of sewing materials on hand, and has a great eye for colour. She actually can’t really see out of her lazy eye, though she has horrible depth perception because of it. She’s a gossip QUEEN and knows quite a bit. Her house is really comfortable, and she has a lot of hand-sewn dog stuffed animals there since she loves dogs but can’t have them. She has a bias for St. Brenards. She makes the BEST turnovers I have ever eaten and she refuses to tell me her secret to them. Her favorite colours are burnt orange and royal purple, and she loves the smell of pine. 
Nacha Mikaelys: She almost always has something sticking out her hair, things just get tangled there! She says she’s been meaning to cut her hair for a while but she’s worried about getting mistaken for a doppleganger so she’s waiting until we have to get new ids. She’s really loud, but in a good way! She wears jewlery usually, she says she has a little bag for her earrings and bracelets for when she’s cooking. She owns a chef hat for home but doesn’t wear one at work. She collects her daughter’s broken slinkies and keeps them in her purse and she has a locket she refuses to tall me what’s in. She loves banana bread and her favorite animals are pigeons. She also has lovespoons hanging up in her apartment!
Anastacha Mikaelys: She doesn’t really like people, she gets overwhelmed easily in social situations so she avoids them. She likes slinkies, and the smell of normal household soap. She actually has a huge slinky collection, but she only lets you see them or play with them if she trusts you. She wants a hamster, and Nacha told me not to tell her but Nacha is saving up to suprise her. 
Mia Stone: She doesn’t believe fully in the dopplegangers and can be quite rude when coming through! She almost always “forgets” to tell me when she leaves so I can’t add her to my list. She is curt and to the point when she talks, and tends to overexplain things. Then again she works with small kids so I can let that slide. She knows how to tango. 
Dr. W.  Afton: He also thinks having a doorman is stupid, but he’s a bit ruder. He doesn’t really say hello to me and tends to turn his whole body to the door when I say he’s cleared to go. I think he doesn’t like the wait. His favorite colour is olive green. 
Francis Mosses: He isn’t all that interesting. He doesn’t hate his job, but he doesn’t like it. He jokes about just sleeping in his car a lot, and sometimes he just. Randomly breaks into scared ranting about our situation. He tends to stay alone, and when I went over to his house once it was. Kinda depressing, it didn’t feel like he actually lived there at all. He likes ribbons and collects them off the street, and he says his favorite colour is scarlet. 
Steven Rudboys: He’s much less serious than he comes off. He speaks quietly and mumbles a lot, but he gets loud when he’s excited. He has a passion for the history of planes, but not really of flying. He only really became a pilot because he struggles with doing matinence on the planes. He likes puns, and when he realizes he has an in he lights up a bit. He likes cats and birds, and he’s really good at making a duck call. 
Mclooy Rudboys: He called me “sweetheart” once and I tried blowing him up with my mind. He makes jokes about his son possibly not being his??? He’s divorced at least three times and told me “he’s lost count” and apparently he fought in World War 2 and retired from being a pilot after that. He likes eagles and only smokes cigars. 
Alf Cappuccin: He’s sort of hard of hearing and tends to not like. Understand what I’m saying so I have to use cards so he gets what I’m saying. He’s a few years younger than McClooy. He likes his porridge with brown sugar and raspberries and he likes the smell of brown paper bags. 
Rafttellyn Cappuccin: Rafttellyn tends to be quite nervous and timid, she doesn’t really talk much. She has the highest voice by far. She dyes her hair, it’s actually grey but she gets a bit nervous about it. She loves apples and always has them in a wooden bowl on her table. Her perfume smells like old roses.
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mywritingonlyfans · 1 year
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Freshness. // Alex Turner X Reader. Smut! (Part 1 of 2)
prompt: you are in your first years of college and you are interning in something related to the band while they're in a small tour. you get alex's attention in the process and things develop into much more than just leering exchanges. (it's all smut).
warnings: age gap, daddy kink, soft dom alex, dirty talk, dry humping, praise kink, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female), is alex silencing you by tying his scarf in your mouth a kink? (there's probs more and i just don't know the name to here, sorry guys, but yeah, it's smut.)
words: 6,9K.
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He had a good taste, you couldn't explain it, just as you hadn't kissed enough people to compare. But it was as if you had never spent hours watching him smoke from a distance, he had the purest dose of freshness, that was all, it seemed like mint or spearmint but it could also just be your imagination, you couldn't tell. Alex held you tightly but gently, his hand on your waist and the other lightly pulling the hair at the nape of your neck. You couldn't say at what point of the party you stopped to stuck to him, you were new there, and almost never spoke or were actually close to him, but one thing led to another and you didn't hesitate to nuzzle up to his touch.
 Although it was the first time you could appreciate him up close, such as the tone and softness of his hair, as well as feeling him with your touch, it already looked familiar. You felt the stubble on his face with your fingers, confirming that he could let it grow all the way if he wanted to, thick and without any patches, something that boys your age wouldn't be able to achieve. You sighed against his lips, making him let you breathe as he went for your neck. Your legs were wrapped around him and it was better than you had imagined. It was better than last night when you were stuck in your hotel room with your head full of him, clung to when you were listening to him pass the soundcheck at dusk with his black Hayban and light tank top while singing with his mouth near the microphone in his husky voice, and all you had was yourself, and your fingers would soon tire and leave you empty-handed as you tried not to get frustrated even more over the thought of him. That made you grip his arms tighter by the white collar t-shirt, and as you pressed yourself more against him, rubbing into his fabrics, you could feel that he was just as excited about it as you were.
 It was all happening so fast, and you couldn't help but savor every moment of it. The way he held you close, the way his lips felt against your skin, it was all too good to be true. You never thought you would be in this position, wrapped in the arms of someone you were so obsessed with, feeling his body against yours. You tried to take it all in, to remember every detail, every sensation, so that you could replay it in your mind over and over again. You didn't want to forget any of it, even if it was just a fleeting moment in time. As you looked up at him, his eyes met yours, and you knew that this was something you wouldn't be able to let go of your mind that easily, something that you would never forget.
 “Do you like to observe, that’s your thing, pretty one?" His voice made you freeze for a moment, and he chuckled sweetly, making you want to cling to him even more. You knew he was referring to the times you kept yourself around, without much need, just to have your eyes on him. It had been two weeks since you had been there, and it seemed like much more than that. And as much as you tried to pretend and make yourself believe otherwise, you knew that Alex noticed you there, either by the way he held your gaze while you looked at him or by asking you small favors that were not your job, like removing the guitar from a place to hand it to him or something that would make you stay close enough to feel his breath and the sleeve of his shirt brushing against your body for seconds and to have him whisper a "thank you, darlin'" near you while your breath catches. He was respectful, if you didn't give him an opening you knew he wouldn't do anything, but it still felt wrong and strangely you liked it. "Do you find me beautiful?" Your voice faltered and he held you more firmly, then making you realize that you were moist while your thighs still held him.
He whispered in agreement, kissing you again with the same calm urgency as if he also wanted to memorize it. 
 You hadn't been drinking, the party had just begun, so you weren't drunk. The house was private and you couldn't even tell which city of the tour it was, you barely knew the band's team and the people in general didn't know you in that environment, just like you didn't know anyone from the party, you weren't exactly invited but as you were part of the them you decided to go and managed to get in. Alex didn't know almost anyone there either, however, it was obvious that people knew him, but even so, that night, seeing you alone in your white lace dress and a friendly smile failing to fit in, he could only think of how to change that. It didn't take long for your gazes to meet, this time he nodded with a shy half smile and you responded radiantly, albeit solemnly, making colors be present in his face, at some point in that you found yourself following him somewhere. And then you were on the balcony, standing in front of each other without exchanging words, but the silence was certainly louder. You touched his chest, then his waist because it felt right, being closer to him felt like it was meant to be like that, and you were happy just with that. When he asked if you minded him kissing you, you didn't deny it and minutes later the dark glass balcony, capable of blocking the view of others, was closed before you two got lost in each other.
 Your heart was beating faster with each passing second, and you couldn't describe that feeling. It was somewhat overwhelming, and you couldn't contain your anxiety, so you blurted out, "Am I pretty because I'm younger?" The intensity of your question made you stuck to him even tighter, and your face fell onto his shoulder as you took a deep breath. His hands tightened around your waist, your dress slightly lifted up, making things easier. He was confident, not trembling like you, but you could feel his heart racing, maybe he just knew how to hide it better. "You're pretty because you are pretty," he replied. He wasn't stupid, and he was also concerned, but he was being honest with you. 
 He held you tightly against his body, his large hands, bigger than yours, caressing your back while still allowing you to move your hips against his. He was sore but it felt good. Alex knew what was about to happen, but when your fingers gripped him tighter and your moans grew a bit louder, and you refused to look at him, he realized that you were acting on impulse and weren't expecting it. He pressed his lips to yours, which were swollen, and pushed the hair from your forehead. "It's okay, lil' one. You did great." Only then he really looked at you, like fully, and he could see the fear in your eyes and your obvious embarrassment. He realized that this wasn't familiar to you and that you had acted for the moment only. Although he still found it hot, he felt guilty for not recognizing the difference once again. And then he found himself asking the obvious, which maybe he should have paid attention to earlier, had you ever been involved with anyone before? How far did you want to go with him? Was it right to want you? 
 “I’m sorry, Alex,” You tried to stand up, but he got you as your body betrayed you. Alex comforted you, holding your face and kissing your cheeks lightly while saying, "There's nothing to apologize for, okay, babe?" You nodded, still not looking at him, just snuggling into his chest. You had made a mess on his dark pants. Your breathing was crazy. "Do you know what happened? Have you done this before?" His tone was affectionate, and you appreciated that. "I'm not a virgin, but I've never reached that point before. I didn't know it was even possible, y'know, like that." You referred to a few minutes ago. Your sentences were quick and your nervousness clear.
  Hearing that you had never got there aroused so many curiosities in him, but he didn't want to be even more invasive in the face of your vulnerability. Alex was surprised by your sincerity and felt like an idiot for not asking and making it a better situation for you. However, he couldn't have known.
"Not even alone?" He took a chance and observed you closely. You appeared more relaxed and at ease now. Your eyes were shut, and your nose was buried deep into his neck, while your fingers fiddled with the chain of his necklace. In that moment, he wanted the fleeting notion that you were meant to be with him to become a reality.
  “No, Al.” The nickname sounded so sweet coming off your lips that he found himself smiling down at your fragile body nestled against him.  He was focusing hard not to stare and overcome the urge to touch your excited breasts and nipples, marking the delicate fabric. You were still weak, a little shaky, and Alex knew you were trying to look strong. 
  "We could take care of that later, if you want me to, of course." He suggested, his own hands sweaty as you hug him tight in response. Him wanting to see you again made your body want more of him, not that you actually felt that way in terms of conditions. "For now you can relax, it's your first, baby girl.  It's meant to be tiring." 
 You let your eyes rest, trying to push away the thought that soon he would have to leave you there because he needed to be out partying with his people. Little did you know that he'd have you stuck in his mind all night.
….
 The next day at work, you felt a sense of relief. Despite nothing changing, the tension between you and Alex had dissipated now that you both acknowledged your mutual feelings. It was comfortable having him around, and everything seemed to be the same as before. During the day, you watched the sound check from afar, and Alex looked adorable with his dark circles and the same tank top you had already taken a liking to. His muscular arms were well-defined in the shirt, and you found yourself biting your lip every time he raised his arms, giving you a glimpse of his lower belly. He would occasionally laugh, not looking at you, but it was a satisfied smile as if he knew the effect he had on you.
 After they finished, you went to retrieve the instruments, and you felt his fingers lightly graze your waist. He had given you his room number and the time he was available that night, along with a cute verse expressing his desire to kiss you again. Despite being older than you, he acted like a love-struck fool who had won over the girl he had his eye on for days. 
 You stood in front of Alex's door for a few minutes, feeling a mixture of anxiety and fear about what was to come. He was your boss, after all. But the heat and yearning inside you made you excited for what was about to happen. Finally, you knocked on the door and he opened it, pulling you into his arms and kissing your forehead. "Did you miss me, little one?" he whispered. You nodded, feeling nervous but comforted by his embrace.
 "I was scared you wouldn't come," Alex admitted. "I've been thinkin’ ‘bout you too much to get over the idea of you not showing up." You laughed, knowing you couldn't be that sincere with him, no matter how flirtatious his tone was. It made your stomach and insides rejoice, and you felt great.
 "I can't stop thinkin' 'bout you since yesterday too," you confessed. As you spoke, he guided you to the sofa and his legs intertwined with yours. His thumb roamed over your skin as he listened to you. It seemed like he wanted to hear you out, as if this wasn't just about sex. As much as you wanted that to be true, you couldn't deny being afraid of the outcome.
 The silence settled over you, and you felt comfortable being around Alex. He took your hands in his, feeling how much more delicate yours were compared to his. You chuckled and brought your hand up to his cheek, tracing lines and rubbing your fingers over his growing beard. He closed his eyes tenderly, and when they opened, he kissed your palm. It all felt too right to be true.
 "So, are you into sound engineering?" he asked quietly, taking note of your every expression. 
 "How do you know that?" you frowned, feeling good knowing that he had researched you for his pure interest. "Where did you see this?" you asked curiously, a little worried above all else. If anyone on the team found out, it would be the end of you.
  And then Alex read you like a book, "I saw your file. I don't have direct access, but I can be aware of the people around me, babe. No one can decide that you don't stay here if I choose not to let you go. You don't have to worry about it. I just needed to check your age, although it doesn't make me feel any less like a predator or a bit of a stranger animal next to you. I needed to know what I was doing."
  You hovered, looking at him without many colors on the face, still in pure shock. He cared about you. 
 "You don't seem much older, Alex. You say it as if you were an old man, but in reality, you only look your age and you look great." You shrugged, trying to deceive yourself even though your fascination with him involved him appearing mature, which was clear to Alex, even though he understood your words.
 You were wearing a long, albeit tight, T-shirt. Your breasts poked through the fabric in the same stunning way they had the night before, and this time Alex couldn't help but let his eyes roam over you for a few moments. And then once again, he was gripped by the thought that he had been the first to get you there without even touching you. Since last night, the only thought on his mind was the thousand ways he could devise to see your weak body on his chest again. This thought consumed him to the point where he was late for soundcheck in the morning. He had spent hours in the shower trying not to make too much noise while attempting to rid his mind of you.
 "You can touch me if you want, Alex." You sounded sweet. Your eyes were calm and innocent. He had doubts whether or not you knew what you were doing, that could also be the urgency that comes with adolescence. He had found himself in that state before. 
 "Yesterday you asked me if I thought you were pretty for being young, and while that's not the reason, I can't deny being attracted to the fact that someone your age thinks of me that way." You nodded, feeling restless and hot. His calloused hand of the guitar strings climbs your thigh and hovers over the fabric of your tiny shorts. You spread your legs without thinking too much and he left his warm hand pressed there while you sighed, no longer being able to hold on.
 "I'm old enough to be your dad." You laughed, as he expected. He wanted to prolong it further, wanted to be with you as long as possible. 
 "No, you don't. My father is older, believe me." He let out a nice smile and this time you couldn't resist and pulled him to you, so that he was on top and with his lips on you. He didn't hesitate and did as you wanted, even better than what you had in mind actually. 
 "You know, I'm also attracted to the fact that someone like you, at your age and in your hot shape, who can have whoever they want, is attracted to me." And that only made him warmer about the situation as his last line ran through your mind incessantly. You’d like him as your daddy. And that rented itself out in your mind as he pulled off your shorts and let his fingers feel how wet you already were for him. 
 Despite not wanting it to happen that way, the tension in the words that hung in the air, holding you together in connection, dissipated. The agonizing quest to know who would take the first step was undone, and everything now seemed driven by urgency and necessity, but in a fruitful way. 
  He took off his shirt, as well as getting rid of his clothes. In sudden movements, even if light. It was like a performance before your eyes. It still felt surreal. When his fingers caressed you again, even though you weren't as experienced as he was, you felt that you could have skipped that part, something that had never happened to you before, and gone firm in feeling him on your skin. 
  As his tongue dissolved in yours, you whimpered into his lips without even being aware of it. Alex just comforted you with more slow, lingering kisses, keeping you close to his body so you had something to cling to. It felt great and it was obvious to both of you that you could get there with just that, in the same way that Alex knew he turned you on so much that he was able to do that with your body without even touching you. 
 He pressed his forehead against yours, his dark hair falling over your face. As soon as he held your waist, you longed to feel him inside of you again. Your eyes watered in anticipation and he kissed your face, drying your tears. You grabbed his shoulders, holding him close and whispered, "Alex, please be gentle."
 He let his hands run over your belly, and then your middle, pressing his fingers into your skin in a way to bring your thoughts to just his touch and nothing else. Alex hated to think that someone had made you feel that way someday, that someone had taken that chance and wasted it. "Just tell me if something is wrong or you want me to stop, okay babygirl? I’m for you only." He kissed your shoulder going to the curve under your breast as he marked the spot as his, your sighs let him know you were more sure about it. 
  You nodded, with him looking at you and then you understood that he wanted a verbal response. "Yes, daddy, I heard you." You said low, slurred and sly. His face on you was priceless. Knowing that was your effect on him made you even wetter.
 The length and weight of him on you was comfortable, it was like you were filled to the brim. His hips felt made for you and although you couldn't keep your eyes open, you could tell that feeling would stay with you, in memory and physically, for a good few days. His lips still marked you where they could and as soon as the right spot on your neck was reached, you didn't have any more coherent thoughts left, it was like everything was a big void. You lost control of yourself, you knew Alex was mumbling things to you but you couldn't put the words together to make sense. And just like that, you felt your body gradually relax as there was drool at the corners of your mouth at all that. Alex held you tight and that was like an extra to what you were feeling. Soon, he was the one in the husky moans, so delicious to hear and watch, emptying himself into you as your hands tugged at your hair. 
  Silence settled between you, and neither of you could complete a sentence. It wasn't just because it was exhausting, but also because the intensity of the moment left no words to contemplate what had just happened. Both of you were lost in your thoughts, trying to process what had transpired. And you were happy about it.
  After a few minutes, Alex pulled away from you, looking at you with a goofy smile on his face that made you respond to him the same way too. Your thighs were dripping and in a way that was good, as if having remnants of him in you made you his. He trailed wet, lazy kisses down your body, until he reached between your legs. Gripping your hips, you sighed heavily and held him there, feeling his tongue run over you, sucking every drop until it was clean. You were sensitive, and that was a little painful, but it was still something too good to be interrupted. 
 …
  Your last memory was of him comforting you, holding you close to his chest and running his hands over your back and hair. He kept repeating how well you had been to him and hoped that you had been treated as you deserved. He also told you that you tasted addictive, which was stuck in your mind, but yet you were so tired that you ended up falling asleep while he was holding you. You didn't even remember how you ended up in his bed, but the memory of his touch and the comfort of his embrace stayed with you.
  You opened your eyes slowly, it wasn't very clear, but the sun was already starting to rise.  His scent was on the pillow and you found yourself smiling at that.  You stretched slightly, trying to reach him with your hands and it scared you a little when you didn't find him. 
  "It's still too early, babygirl.  You can rest more." He whispered.  He had a book in his hands, he had his back against the headboard, with a book on his leg but the attention was all on you. 
  "I'm tired, but I can't sleep, daddy." You smiled slyly, the words falling sweetly from your lips. Alex knows what you wanted, he was watching you solemnly as you twisted and rubbed against the quilt. 
 He got rid of the book and then asked you to go to him.  You looked confused, you were already beside him, but then he indicated that he wanted your back on his chest so you were tucked between his legs. 
 "When you feel this way and can't sleep, what do you usually do?" He wrapped his hands around your waist, hugging you from your ribcage.  He was speaking into your ear, his face pressed against your neck and your head resting light on his shoulder. He was already doing you so good and he hadn't even touched you down there. 
 "I touch myself, but it's usually so frustrating." You sounded disappointed and he chuckled. 
 "Because you can't get off by yourself, right, pup?" You nodded, nuzzling into his warm. "Can you show me how you usually do it?  Maybe I can help ya with that." His voice was hot and surely you were wet with that alone. You backed off a bit, you didn't think he would judge you, but still you thought about it. "You don't have to show me if you don't want to.  You can just explain to me how you do it." 
 "It has no pattern, I don't know what works." Your eyes watered and he felt stiff.  Poor thing, you didn't even know how to make yourself feel good. "Sometimes it seems like it will work, but my hand gets too tired." You were going to call him by your new favorite nickname but you felt too embarrassed to do so, and he understood.
 "I'm sorry this happened to you, babygirl.  Want to let me help you with that?  I can try to make it work, you deserve it." He kissed your forehead, holding you tighter.  You smiled quietly, spreading your legs like he was indicating with his hands. "You're so pretty and nice, you deserve it, don't you?" He wet his fingers in his mouth, bringing them up to between your legs.  
  "I really want it, daddy." You sighed, feeling his fingers slowly massage you.  You were already properly lubricated, so he could walk his fingers around and get you all slick and comfortable. 
  "You like how I talk you through this, don't you?" You nodded, no longer able to utter many coherent words. "You can imagine that before you actually touch yourself, babygirl. You can spend a good time working it out in your mind before you do it, y'know, so you're well prepared, do you do that?" 
 You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, he was stating the obvious and it was something you didn't do, always acting on the spur of the moment and getting frustrated with yourself. You were pathetic. "Not really," you said, not sure if he could hear or understand you. 
 He followed in slow movements, watching you squirm in his fingers, which made him pin your legs still with his own.  And you still thought that alone would be nothing but frustration, because it wasn't the same without him there. 
 "Won't you dip your fingers, daddy?" He grunted a little as he noticed your eyes following his hand working on you. 
  "I won't, babygirl. Do you remember how it was the first time?  You got it just by rubbing your pretty clit to my pants, maybe it's easier for you that way." And once again you felt small in his lap for knowing so little about yourself. 
  He then stopped abruptly, brow furrowed, so sexy and so delicious to watch while you were pure indignation. Why had he stopped?
 "Sit on the bed, I 'ave a better idea." 
 And even restless, you trusted him.  He took his pillow, the same one you had slept on, and crumpled it with his hands, laying it upright for you. 
 "Can you ride it for me, lil' one." He saw your face fill with confusion and doubt.
 "Your pillow?"
 "It's okay, babygirl.  The fabric and the friction will do you good, it will be the same thing as that night.  The important thing now is that if it works you can do it yourself, isn't that the point?" You wanted to say no, and that you'd rather have him.  However, he could be right and you want to know how to do that for yourself. 
  He took your hand, guiding your hips until you were in contact with the fabric.  You moaned at the feeling and then rubbed yourself deeper into the material. It felt good and right. 
 "Good girl, it's exactly like that, just do what your body is telling you." 
  You dove in deep, smearing his pillow.  He had a light, encouraging smile over you that made you want to succeed and make it work for him.
 "Move your hips, your legs will soon tire that way." He steered you a little more before your body landed on top of his.  He dropped your hand and wrapped his arms around yourself, your forehead dropped to his shoulder as he whispered words for you to keep going as you were doing well.  You didn't stop, you knew it was working.  And with his lips on your neck and your legs weak, you felt the fabric beneath you getting wetter. 
 "It feels so good, daddy." You buried your nose in his chest, feeling weak.
 "You were so hot, pup. You did so great. Look at the mess you made all by yourself." He murmured a pleasurable groan, squeezing you tighter.  His attention was still completely yours, he kissed your forehead and head as your body made light movements to work its way through your orgasm. "I'm so proud of you, my babygirl." 
  And without much ado, he helped you to lie down on the bed, on top of the quilts, leaving the pillow aside.  Something he knew he would make good use of later, your scent was impregnated there, just like you in his mind.  Your body shriveled in weariness and you were still whimpering softly as he stroked your face. 
 "Why don't you lay down with me?" 
 "I need to do an interview in a few minutes," he made you understand why he was up so early. "But you can sleep 'ere. I'll be back later and we can rest together." 
 "I might be able to help, if you guide me to that too, y'know." You tried to get up to touch him, but he wouldn't let you.  Your fatigue was clear. 
 "You're tired now, but we can think 'bout it later." He said, running a hand through your hair. You couldn't keep your eyes open, you were indeed exhausted. 
 "You promise me?" 
 "I do, babygirl." He kissed your forehead and before you fell asleep he heard you whisper in a small smile, "thank you daddy."  That made him want to stay there. 
 He couldn't shake off what had happened minutes ago from his mind and knew that he might have to try and forget it in the car with his own hands, if it continued to bother him until he reached the interview location. He felt like a helpless teenager when it came to you.
 Alex was smoking a cigarette before the show, and you were with him, just the two of you. It was a small, secluded area away from the stage and the people who were excited and working on everything else because they would be going on stage in minutes. You were talking about trivial and light things, and yet each of you was listening to the other with the same intensity. He even heard you complain about one of the sound engineers who graduated a long time ago who insisted on diminishing you at any cost. 
  It was breathtaking to watch Alex smoking, his fingers intertwined with the smoke, his lips contracting as he took a drag and then exhaled. He felt more interesting with your eyes on him. "Can I have a kiss, daddy?" You asked with raised eyebrows. He laughed, his cheeks turning red, but he loved it, the way it came out of your mouth and your provocative eyes. 
 And then he kissed you, pressing you against the wall with his arms around you. Since you knew you had little time, you both did not allow yourselves to be anything but urgent, and how that synchronized was addictive. And once again, his taste was not of smoke but of pure comfort and affection. 
 As soon as he pulled away, even though he persisted a few inches from you, he removed the green scarf from around his neck, with a slick, smug smile on his lips and said, "Gonna need to trust me, pup."  Soon, he passed the cloth around your neck and before tying it in a knot, he asked you to open your mouth, which you did and then he passed the cloth over there, firmly trapping it in you, so that you would not emit even a sound.  Alex had already memorized how loud you could get. 
 He settled against your body, sizing you up completely, and kissed your forehead.  Your hands went to his shoulders, your face lost and innocent, not knowing what to expect but trusting him nonetheless.  Alex would never know how to explain what you were being able to do to him.
 "Hurting?" You nodded no, so he went ahead. 
  It was without ceremony, due to the short time, and it was still so good.
 Your fingers went to his dark hair, making him decide that he would let you guide him if you wanted.  As soon as he lifted your skirt and lowered your panties to your knee, he let out a sigh of satisfaction at the scent of you, as well as his mouth was watering at the thought of your taste, and then he contemplated you with his tongue.  He couldn't hear you, which excited him even more but he could feel your muscles contracting as he devoured you. 
 "Be good to me, puppy.  We have to be quick and I need you to behave." He slapped your thighs before forcing them open for him and then hold them with firm hands, surely you would be marked. 
 You muttered something, nodding in agreement even though you weren't in as much control of yourself as you'd hoped.
 Alex held his gaze on you as you lost yourself in how he seemed to completely envelop you.  The wet noises flooded the small room, as well as the satisfied sighs he let out.  You clung to his locks, already feeling your lower belly tingle, and then he allowed you to rub against him, riding his tongue as he fucked you with it.  You could feel your body shaking and his nose patting your needy clit as your hips moved over him, and then soon you were all over his face. And Alex grunting at it just made everything better.
  He cleaned you up like a good man, keeping you warm while you went through it. 
 Once you seemed stable and too sensitive, he came back to you, dirty beard due to your juices and expression pleasant to watch.  You couldn't get tired of thinking about how it was you who did that to him. 
 "What a needy, little girl. I'm afraid that's the fastest you've ever come, right?" He had a proud smile, totally smug.  You couldn't speak and now it became clearer to you, even though you agreed with him.  With the adrenaline wearing off, the scarf was starting to get painful. 
 At your face, he removed the fabric. There was a pressure mark on your cheek and as soon as he saw you massaging your jaw he found himself pensive. 
 "You have to let me know if something bothers you, I'm not tryin' to 'urt ya, babygirl." 
  You denied, with an open smile, you were happy with that.  
"You didn't hurt me. I'm a big girl, daddy." The tip of his nose and cheeks turned red, he didn't know how to respond and you laughed harder, yet sweetly.  He wanted to pack you up and take you with him, like everywhere. 
"I need to go before, y'know."  You nodded in agreement, not that you liked having to leave him like that, but you were looking forward to watching him onstage. 
 You wanted to ask him to keep the scarf but you knew you couldn't at the moment, so you just wiped his beard and the corner of his mouth with the soft green fabric while he looked at you fondly.  Before he left, he kissed you, hard and calm, and reminded you to wait a few minutes to leave after he left.  The show felt short, and seeing him there, happy, in a few stolen glances at you in a corner, reminded you that you couldn't hug him right after the end or pull him in for a kiss and tell him you liked what you watched. Your look was sad and he had noticed, you couldn't let yourself get to the rest because you felt like you would end up crying, so you left before the last song.
 Alex's heart was tight in his chest as he saw the sadness in your eyes. He had pulled you with his eyes after the show to what would be his dressing room. He asked what was wrong, hoping you would open up to him. However, you remained quiet, staring out the window as if you didn't know what to say or just didn't want to say it. When the tears finally fell down your cheeks, you didn't dare move, just persisted still as if any movement would make you crumble.
 Alex, who was standing by the door, then came to you, sitting beside your figure and wrapping his arms around you. "I want you to say that you will miss me, even if it's a lie." Your voice was hurtful to hear, and as he hugged you tighter, he understood. "Please say that you think of a future with me, that you imagine it sometimes, even though you know you won't make it." He held your face, still as close to you as possible, and kissed you, and for the first time, he knew that kisses could sometimes be painful. When he pulled away, your gaze seemed to bore a hole in his chest. He didn't know what to say, he had never been good with words and didn't want to hurt you even more, so he said what he could. "If I could choose not to ‘urt you, I would." And seeing more of your tears, he couldn't help but let his own flow too. Seeing you like this, and knowing it was his fault, hurt him more than you could ever imagine.
 "I can't act like we don't have a deadline, Alex." He began to pepper kisses on your face, and it was suffocating. You had known enough about him to be able to say that he didn't know the right words to use with you, and that's why he deprived himself of them, but even so, you wanted them from him, you thought you deserved them. "I want you to lie to me and say that you'll stay with me." You hugged his waist tighter, burying your nose in his scent and wetting his white shirt. He held you in his arms as if he could truly protect you from that.
 "Not bringing this up with you doesn't mean it hurts less, just that I prefer to enjoy the moment without having to worry about it. I care about you too much to interrupt your cycle or make you regret it, you still have so much ahead of you, baby girl." He said sincerely, his voice affected by the knot in his throat. He hoped you would understand, maybe not immediately, but at some point, it would make sense to you. Maybe you thought otherwise, but he knew that you had just started college and there was still so much for you to learn and so many new people to meet and discover. He felt like he’d never be able to do that to you. He wished he could make you understand that the time you spent together was what was valuable and needed to be cherished. Yet, he couldn't and you weren't inside his head to know.
 Alex watched you from a distance while he smoked his cigarette, something not unusual, but this time he was boiling with rage, clenching his hand into a fist. Wasn't it too bad that he didn't want anyone else near you in that way that wasn't him? The kid was blocking your sides like in a court game, making the view he had of you a little blurry and uncomfortable from a few meters away. Unable to contain his anger, he threw the cigarette on the ground and put it out with his boot. With heavy steps and a rigid body, he walked towards you, watching as you laughed at the boy's words, throwing your head back, and he had a clear look of satisfaction in seeing that he was making you happy. Alex sighed and rolled his eyes. You weren't paying attention to the boy in question (not even to your Alex, you didn't notice him there before), he was being friendly, and Alex had that possibility in mind, but his body was still in pure agony with it. As long as you were his, you were only his, and nobody else’s.
 When the boy touched your waist to bring you closer to him, before you could even stop him, what were you going to do, Alex interrupted. "I need your help," he said to the boy, clearly around your age, giving him a trivial task to do, and given who Alex was, he didn't think twice before leaving your side. You raised an eyebrow, seeing that    Alex asked for something that was usually included in what you were supposed to do but didn't say anything.
 "I need you to go up to the hotel," he seemed impatient, looking at you differently, as if he wanted to shake your shoulders, but not in a way that made him violent. "Now?" You asked as soon as he had taken his keys out of his pocket and put them inside yours.
 "Do you want me to repeat myself?" And then your breath became unsteady with his tone closer to your ear, and you felt cold. "Al, I just got here, isn't this bad?" Nothing ever sounded so uncertain and insecure than your voice, and he loved it. He just adjusted the glasses that were on his head back to his eyes and pretended to ignore it. "You have 30 minutes until I can get out of ‘ere, you better be there, pup."
...
taglist: @ohladymoon @bloo-wisteria @indierockgirrl (if you wanna be added or removed just let me know, also if you want to be tagged only in smut or non-smutts let me know too.)
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munson-blurbs · 6 months
Note
I’m torn between snickers and sour patch kids with butterfinger and Steve Harrington, so I’ll leave the first part up to you and your genius mind 🩵
I did a lil bit of both, bb. I hope you like it!
Forced proximity/Shy!Reader/Steve Harrington
Warnings: Steve is an ass (kind of enemies-to-lovers), semi-public making out, mention of a boner hehe
WC: 1k
Divider credit to @saradika
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“Okay, so,” Steve starts, adjusting his company-required sailor hat, “there’s a whole method to getting the proper scoop. You can’t just go plunging in all willy-nilly.” He dunks the ice cream scooper into the vat of mint chocolate chip and creates a perfect sphere, plopping it into the empty cup with a triumphant smile. “Now, it’s your turn.”
You hesitantly take the scooper from his outstretched hand. “Yeah, okay.” This was supposed to be a fun summer job–a way to make some extra money before heading off to college in the fall. But you’ve only been here for two days, and Steve has been breathing down your neck the entire time. 
You lean over to try and mimic his motions when he makes an obnoxious buzzer noise. “Nope, you gotta hold it in the middle, not the end.” He huffs out with an eye roll. “Here, I’ll show you. Again.”
That’s the final straw; the tears you’ve been holding back force their way forward. You dart into the walk-in freezer and let the heavy door slam behind you before breaking down into a sobbing fit.
“Hey! What the hell?” Steve drops the scooper, flips the “open” sign to “closed,” and follows after you. Light floods the freezer as he swings the door open, pulling it shut with a barely audible click. “What are you doing?”
You wipe your tear-stained cheeks, desperate not to let him see you cry. “I quit!” Your words are wobbly, and you push yourself up off of the ground as quickly as you can.
“You quit?!” He sputters, crossing his arms over his chest. “You haven’t even been here for two full shifts!”
“And you’ve made every last second of them miserable,” you mumble under your breath, reaching for the door handle. You pull it down, but the door doesn’t budge. Once more with some force leads to the same results. 
You turn to Steve, who’s watching with a horrified look on his face. “Shit, shit, shit!” he mutters, yanking on the handle without success. “We’re, uh, locked in.”
Thanks, Einstein, you think wryly, but keep that retort to yourself. Instead, you slump back down and bury your head in your hands. 
Steve sits next to you, knocking his knee into yours. “Robin’ll be here for her shift soon,” he says, “and then you can leave and never see me again.” When you don’t respond, he sighs and stands up, grabbing something from one of the shelves. You watch as he pulls out a whiteboard divided into two columns and uses the dry-erase marker to add a tally to the side labeled “YOU SUCK.”
“Wh-What’s that?” you ask before you can stop yourself. 
“Oh, uh,” Steve shrugs, “just this stupid thing Robin made for whenever I inevitably screw up my chances with a pretty girl. Figured I’d beat her to the punch this time.”
You nod; he must’ve been flirting with a customer earlier today before you’d arrived. “Who was it?”
Steve cocks an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Who was the pretty girl? Did she go to Hawkins High?”
He nearly chokes on his own saliva. “Are…you can’t be serious.” When you only offer him a confused look, he lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. “It’s you, all right? With your cute smile and the way you laugh…” He trails off, shaking his head. 
It takes you several moments to process what he’s just said. “Me?!” you finally manage. There’s no way; there’s absolutely no way…
“You,” Steve confirms, nervously tucking a thumbnail between his teeth. 
“If you…then why have you been…”
“An asshole?” he shoots you a guilty smile, raking his fingers through his hair. Even slightly mussed, it looks perfect. “That’s because in addition to being an asshole, I’m also an idiot. And I, uh, tried to convince myself that I hated you so that I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”
You nod slowly, processing what he’s just told you. “That is…” you suck your teeth, “the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
His laughter is genuine this time, and he shakes his head as he says, “Yeah…not my best idea.” He looks at you with wide eyes. “I do think you’re beautiful, though. And also really sweet and smart and, um, stuff.”
Despite the chill from literally being refrigerated, you feel heat creeping up your neck. “Steve, you don’t have to be nice to me now just because you feel bad,” you say softly, unable to meet his gaze.
“Hey.” Steve’s voice is barely audible over the whir of the freezers. He takes your hand in his. “I like you. A lot. And I’m sorry I was such a shit head the last few days. Can we have a do-over?” 
You giggle, and when you duck to hide your face, he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, nudging it slightly upwards.
“I’m Steve,” he whispers, “and I’m going to kiss you now.” He ducks down and presses his lips to yours, gently parting them with his tongue. You accept his touch eagerly, melding your body with his. 
Steve presses you up against the wall, his leg between yours. Hands glide up over your uniform, not daring to explore underneath quite yet. You cautiously tug on his little neckerchief, pulling him even closer. 
You want more. You need more. You–
“Oh, my God! In the freezer? This is where we keep food!”
Steve jumps backwards, clearly embarrassed to be caught. “Jesus, Robin. A warning would’ve been nice.”
“I could say the same for you,” she bites back. “Go home, Steve. Your shift was over ten minutes ago.”
You shuffle out as quickly as possible, trying to hide your humiliation. Steve follows suit, but not before Robin mutters to him, “Nice boner, Casanova. Real subtle.”
“Shut up, Robs.” He adjusts himself over his pants, shifting his apron to better cover the evidence.
Robin rolls her eyes, catching sight of her infamous white board as she goes to shut the door. With a sigh, she begrudgingly adds the first-ever tally to the “YOU RULE” side.
--
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haddonfieldwhore · 8 months
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if we’ve got eachother - mjf
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mjf x gender neutral! cole! reader
part one here • part two here
word count: 2.5k
warnings: not edited, bit of family drama, angst, language, nsfw themes/implied smut !
a week had gone by since adam found out about you and max, and you and your brother were effectively ignoring eachother completely. him and max had to be at least professional enough to do their segments together, but didn’t speak to eachother outside of work business. you hated that you had come between their friendship, but you also felt like adam was overreacting. there was a week long break coming up, and you knew adam was going him to see your parents; usually you would go with him, but this time you weren’t sure you really wanted to spend seven days in a house with him, along with your parents asking why you were fighting. your mom had actually been calling and texting you, asking if she could expect you home for the break, but you had ignored all of her messages.
“what are you thinking about?” max asked, snapping you out of your trance as he walked out of the bathroom, fresh out of the shower. his skin was still damp, nothing but a fluffy white towel around his waist as he used a smaller one to dry off his curly hair. max had been travelling with you rather than adam since things kind of exploded last week.
you raised an eyebrow, unable to stop yourself from staring at his chiseled abs, and the happy trail that started at his naval and disappeared under the towel.
“well now i’m thinking about something else…” you said, sitting up on the bed as max walked over to you, leaning down to kiss your lips.
“oh yeah? what’s that?” he smirked, and your hands reached for the towel that hung low on his hips. his hands cradled either side of your jaw as you let the towel fall to the floor, and he kissed you deeply. max pulled your shirt over your head, before wrapping a hand around your throat and pulling you up onto your knees, kissing you again. your hands tangled in his damp curls, and his tongue slipped past your lips to explore your mouth, that taste of mint toothpaste on his tongue.
you were interrupted by a knock at the door, and max sighed, kissing you one more time before he turned and started walking towards the door. you slid your shirt back on, making yourself look at least decent.
“i’ll get it,” you laughed pushing him around the corner out of view of the doorway, and throwing the towel at him. you were still smiling when you opened the door, but it disappeared completely at the sight of adam.
“y/n,” he began, greeted you with an awkward nod. you shifted your weight nervously back and forth on your feet.
“so you’re talking to me again?” you asked, and adam sighed.
“i … don’t know. i do need to ask you about next week though.”
“so mom sent you? that’s adorable,” you laughed, annoyed.
“can we set this aside- for one week; for her sake?” he asked, and you laughed in disbelief. of course you wanted to see your parents, but you were stubborn to your core.
“i don’t know adam. you’re the one who has an issue with me and max being together.” he sighed, running a hand through his long hair.
“i have an issue with the fact that you and my best friend betrayed me-“
“oh get over yourself. we didn’t get together just to spite you, adam. do you hear yourself? yes, we were wrong to hide it from you, i can admit that; but i wouldn’t take back what i did.”
“so you aren’t coming home?” he asked.
“i’ll think about it.”
“no you won’t. you’ve already decided; i know you.” adam spat. “at least call mom and have the guts to tell her you’re choosing a guy over your family.”
“don’t talk to them like that,” max appeared behind you, his lower half dressed in a pair of shorts.
“max,” adam greeted awkwardly. “this is a family conversation.”
“oh- please continue,” max taunted, not leaving your side.
“actually i think we’re done here,” you said, closing the door on your brother. max turned you to face him, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug.
“you okay?” he asked, kissing the top of your head. you nodded into his chest, before pulling back to kiss his lips softly.
“yeah. thank you for having my back, even though you don’t have to protect me from adam.”
“i know,” he said, kissing the top of your nose. “are you going home next week?” he asked, and you sighed flopping onto your stomach on the bed.
“i don’t think so. i don’t want to spend a week with someone who won’t talk to me,” you mumbled. max crawled onto the bed, hovering over top of you and placing kisses along your shoulder and up the side of your neck to your ear.
“come home with me instead,” he whispered, nipping at the shell of your ear. you couldn’t hold back the moan that left your lips as max pressed himself against your backside. max rolled over, pulling you with him until you straddled his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you close.
“you don’t think we’ll get sick of eachother if we spend a week together?” you teased, as max placed wet kissed on your neck, finding your sweet spot with ease.
“fuck no,” he laughed.
•••
you had in fact decided to spend the week off at max’s house with him, and the two of you had just arrived, pulling into the driveway in max’s blue camaro. when you entered the house, a fluffy white and tortoiseshell cat ran up to max, weaving in and out of his feet and meowing.
“hey piper,”max laughed, bending down to pick up the cat. “daddy’s home. did you miss me?” he bombarded the cat with kisses on her forehead, and you laughed.
“daddy?” you raised an eyebrow.
“shut up, you love it,” he smirked, and turned the cat towards you. “this is piper.” you extended a hand gently for the cat to sniff, and she let you pat her on the top of the head.
“hi piper,” you smiled. max placed her softly on the ground, and led you further into the house. it was minimally decorated, which made sense considering how many days of the year he would actually be home. there was a large cream coloured couch in the center of the living room, that had a wall of large windows.
“you’re gonna have two cuddle buddies now,” max was still talking to piper as you sat down on the soft couch, and the cat hopped up into your lap. “she likes you,” max smiled, and sat next to you in the couch, tucking you under his arm. piper walked back and worth across both of your laps, before laying down on the arm rest.
“she’s cute,” you beamed, and max kissed your lips softly.
“you’re cute.” you giggled as he kissed your forehead and then your lips again.
“did you hit your head or something? what’s got you in such a good mood?” you laughed, although you weren’t complaining; you could get used to the softer side of max.
“no,” he smirked, easily pushing you over to pin him underneath you on the couch. “why, how do you want me to be?” he stared down at you, his brown eyes darker than usual.
“i just didn’t know the devil could be such a softie, that’s all,” you explained playfully, knowing you were pushing his buttons.
“careful,” he warned, a hand wrapping gently but firmly around your throat as you stared up at him, your eyes wide with excitement. “you’re gonna get yourself in trouble. unless that’s what you’re trying to do?”
“you tell me, daddy.” you teased, and he groaned, his grip tightening around your neck before he relaxed.
“you are driving me crazy,” he rolled his eyes, leaning down to kiss you. your teeth pulled at his bottom lip as his hand moved from your neck to cradle the side of your face.
“i can’t believe i get you all to myself for a whole week,” you exhaled as max left a trail of kisses down the side of your neck, leaving soft love bites behind.
“i hope you don’t like walking-“ you interrupted him with another kiss, and you could feel him smirking against your lips. your phone began to ring in your bag, and you sighed heavily. “don’t answer that,” max whispered next to your ear, his hands trailing down your sides to pull you hips upward against his.
“what if it’s important?” you asked, letting out a moan as he rutted his hips against yours.
“it can wait,” he growled, and his fingers began undoing your pants.
“max…”
“tell me if you want me to stop,” his voice sent a shiver down your spine as he slid your pants down, biting down on the skin below your jaw.
“fuck- please max,” you begged, unable to think straight.
“please what, baby?” he asked as his hand disappeared into your underwear.
“don’t stop.” max smiled before kissing you roughly, as your phone stopped ringing.
•••
you were peacefully face down in max’s bed, the soft blankets the only thing covering your body as you lay there, waking up from a nap after max had given you a very… thorough.. tour of his house. your eyes fluttered open at the sound of max getting out of the shower, the bathroom door opening with a soft click, and you looked up to see him, only his lower half dressed as he walked over to you. max leaned down and gently kissed the side of your head, and you smiled, waking up fully and rolling over to sit up against the headboard.
“hey sleepyhead, late night?” max teased, and you looked over at the clock that read 11:23 am, meaning you had only been asleep for about an hour, having fallen asleep after you and max had spent the entire morning breaking in his new mattress so to speak.
“shut up, don’t tease me when it’s your fault,” you pouted, pulling the blanket up higher. max laughed, raising his hands in mock innocence, kissing you sweetly on the lips.
“i’m sorry baby. you feel okay?” he asked sincerely, and you nodded.
“yeah, i’m great,” you smiled. “are you okay?”
“yeah baby i’m okay,” he smiled, kissing your forehead and then your lips again. “by the way, your phone has been going off for like an hour.”
you sighed, and max handed you one of his tshirts to wear as you got out of bed. max smiled to himself at the way your legs wobbled slightly as you walked, but didn’t mention it, deciding he had teased you enough. you walked over to your suitcase and dressed the rest of your body in your underwear and some shorts, before digging you phone out of your bag and checking the many notifications you had missed. there was about 20 text messages from your mom, a few from adam, and about 12 missed calls between the two of them. the ones from your mom were asking where you were, with increasing concern; you gathered that adam hadn’t told her you weren’t coming. reading through the ones he had sent confirmed your suspicion. you sighed, but clicked on your moms contact and put the phone to your ear, listening to it ring until she answered.
“y/n! sweetie i’ve been calling you! did you get my texts? why aren’t you home for the break?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“relax mom,” you laughed. “i’m sorry, adam was supposed to let you know i wouldn’t be there this time. i’m sorry to worry you,” you lied, only feeling a little guilty about throwing your brother under the bus.
“oh - he said he thought you were coming. i’ll have to talk to him,” she said. “anyways, what’s keeping you away? is there a boy?” she asked in a playful tone, and you smiled, looking over at max who was on the other side of the room, scrolling through his phone, paying no attention.
“yeah, actually - there is.”
“that’s great honey! are you spending your vacation together?” she asked.
“yeah, i’m actually with him at his house for a few days,” you explained. you knew she didn’t watch the show every week, but still hoped she didn’t ask too many questions about max. his reputation, at least in regards to the character he portrayed, wasn’t the best and would definitely concern your mother; nevermind the fact that him and adam were friends. thankfully, she didn’t ask for too many details.
“well i’m sad we won’t be seeing you, but i hope you’re having fun sweetie! be safe, and if something happens and you need to come home you’re always welcome.” you felt a pang in your heart, missing home and your family.
“thanks mom. i love you, and i promise next time i have time off i’ll be there.”
“i love you too, honey. me and your dad will see you then. maybe you can bring this boy of yours next time.” you smiled, glancing over at max again who looked up at your and sent you a wink, and you laughed softly.
“we’ll see mom. i’ll talk to you later okay?”
“bye sweetie,” she replied before you hung up. you considered calling adam as well, but decided you didn’t want to speak to him, sending him a text instead.
‘talked to mom. she’s happy for me.’
you put your phone back in your bag without waiting for a reply, and walked (still with some difficulty) over to max, who looked up at you from the chair he was sitting in.
“all good? your family’s not gonna send the cops here to arrest me for kidnapping you?” he asked, and you sat down in his lap, and his arms wrapped around your waist immediately.
“no i think you’re safe for now. unless adam calls them,” you joked. “my mom wants me to bring you home, so i think she’s on our side. i didn’t exactly tell her who you are though.”
“what can i say, moms love me.” you slapped his chest gently as you both laughed. “she’s doesn’t need to know all the little details just yet.”
“agreed. i just hope adam calms down about it. i hate that i’ve come in between you guys.”
“i know baby. he’ll get over it,” max said, kissing your cheek.
“i hope so,” you sighed. “enough about my family drama. what’s the plan for today?”
“hmmm i think we can do whatever we want,” max said, kissing your neck softly.
“i like the sound of that. i need to shower first though,” you giggled as his kissed tickled your skin. max let go of you, allowing you to stand up and walk to the bathroom. you turned the water on, before peeking back out into the bedroom.
“you coming?” you smirked, and max threw his phone aside and hurried over to join you, and you smiled. things may not be perfect, but you were happier than you had been in a long time, and as long as you and max had eachother, you knew you would be fine.
🏷️ taglist: @frodhoebagginit
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imreadydollparts · 2 months
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I thrifted some Barbies and one had some mystery gunk in her hair.
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I couldn't tell what it was but went ahead and plonked her head into a cup of L.A.'s Totally Awesome and left it overnight. This morning I started scrubbing with a toothbrush, thinking "I should try this on gum some day." but I'm not willing to put gum in a doll's hair on purpose. Then the smell hit me. It WAS gum. Mint. I like mint, but 🤢 Either way, it did take a lot of brushing with a toothbrush but the gum did eventually slide out of her hair with minimal breakage, she's all clean, and now I know Totally Awesome helps get gum out of doll hair.
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I'm grossed out, though.
I've mentioned before that I get stressed when I see collectors/restorers throw dolls or ponies into a sink full of soapy water.
This Barbie demonstrates why I do not do that. I only do surface washing with a melamine sponge, dish soap, and water unless a pony show signs of rust or mold inside, then I take them apart to wash their insides, too, and leave the head off for a few days so they can dry fully.
I saw a bag of Barbies at Goodwill with two articulated bodies in it: a Barbie Extra and a Cutie Reveal. I do like to swap my dolls onto articulated bodies, so I picked it up.
When I was opening the bag and going through the dolls, I noticed some of them were wet.
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It took a bit to narrow it down to WHO, exactly, was wet and it was these two. Then I gave Barbie a good shake and she sloshed.
I'm........ going to tell myself it was very clean sink water from her previous owner's attempt at removing the gum from her hair, or else I might cry over unknown-days-old, thrifted mystery water.
I might have to drill some holes in her body to get the rest of the water out but did manage to vigorously shake out a lot of it. It seems to be mostly stuck in her legs so I may drill at the tops of her hips where the injection mold spot is and on the bottoms of her feet so they can drain (assuming the lower legs aren't solid).
Right now she's sitting with her joints as "open" as I can get them in the hopes some of that water will evaporate.
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Not very dignified.
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greenwitchcrafts · 6 months
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Sage
Salvia officinalis
Known as: Common sage, green sage, garden sage, meadow sage, culinary sage & true sage
Related plants: A member of the of the mint family Lamiaceae that includes plants such as basil, mint, rosemary, sage, savory, marjoram, oregano, hyssop, thyme, lavender & perilla as well as catnip, salvia, bee balm, wild dagga & oriental motherwort.
Parts used: Leaves & stems
Habitat and cultivation: This evergreen subshrub is native to the Mediterranean region with it's mild to cool, rainy winters & warm to hot, dry summers.
Plant type: Perennial
Region: Zone 5-8 your sage will grow as a hardy perennial. However in the humid climates of zones 9 & farther south, sage is usually an annual, as it does not easily tolerate summer heat & humidity.
Harvest: Harvest lightly in the first year to ensure the plant grows fully. After the first year, be sure to leave a few stalks so that the plant can rejuvenate in the future & If fully established, one plant can be harvested up to three times in one season.
Planting tips: Plant in full sun & plants should be two feet apart. Sage should be planted in well draining soil like a sandy or loamy soil with good drainage. Wet soils can cause rot and be fatal to the plant. The easiest and best way to start sage is from a small plant, but you can also sow seeds up to two weeks before the last frost date.
Medicinal information: Taking sage by mouth seems to improve memory and thinking skills in healthy adults & taking it for four weeks can improve menopause symptoms. One study found that drinking tea made from sage both raised antioxidant defenses and lowered LDL or “bad” cholesterol. It also could be used for pain after surgery, lung cancer, sore throat, sunburn, and many other conditions. Sage leaves have been used in traditional medicine as a treatment for diabetes.
Cautions: Sage is possibly unsafe when taken in high doses or for a long time due to a chemical called thujone. Too much thujone can cause seizures and damage the liver and nervous system. Thujone can also bring on a menstrual period, which could cause a miscarriage so taking sage during pregnancy is not advised. It may also reduce milk production while chest feeding.
Magickal properties
Gender: Masculine
Planet: Jupiter
Element: Air
Deities: Chiron, Consus, Jupiter, Obatala & Zeus
Magickal uses:
• Use the leaves for tea for communion of Jupiter or in any workings involved with the planet & grounding
• Burn to find clarity & wisdom while asking difficult questions
• Write a wish on Sage leaf and burn it to release your intention
• Place a Sage leaf in your wallet to attract money
• Include in feminine fertility spells to boost your chances of success
• Add Sage oil incense or herbs to any spell to temper the results with wisdom
• Burn during a funeral & memorial to facilitate healthy grief and bonding with the spirits of those who passed on
• Use spells to alleviate grief & steady emotions
• Put in a satchet to carry from protection from negative energies & influences
• Burn to cleanse your home, clear negative energies & increase your intuition
• Rub sage on your forehead before divination to increase the accuracy of your results
• Pick twelve leaves at midnight on Christmas Eve to see a vision of your future husband(without damaging the bush)
• Write your desire on a sage leafe & place it under your pillow for three days. If you dream of your desire, it will soon materialize. If not, bury the sage.
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curiositydooropened · 7 months
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Wildfire • Pyre
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Reunions with old friends leads to more information about Vickie's death. You and Steve seem to be growing closer, falling back into old roles. But something dark lingers in the recesses of your mind.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Chapter Wordcount: 8,528
Warnings: enemies/rivals to lovers, second chance romance, slooooowburn, unrequited love, so much pining, blood, gore, character death, best friend!disabled!Eddie Munson, character injuries, trauma, PTSD, hallucinations, drowning, concussion, hurt/comfort, fire, panic attacks, insomnia
Fic Masterlist • Navigation • Masterlist
Chapter Three: Ignite • Chapter Five: Searing
---
NOW
September 1988
Everything Rightside Up existed in saturation. Blue skies were blue. The red-oranges of fallen leaves were ruddy and neon. Green leaves of canned spinach were mossy and vibrant. Even the stark whites were brighter, cornea-burningly so. 
Your mouth felt dry as you approached the Med Bay, sneakers squeaking on linoleum beside the steady rhythm of Eddie’s shoes matched with the creak of his walker. His hair and eyes were painted in rich chocolates today, his skin almost as blinding as the walls that surrounded you. 
“I think you’re doing a good thing,” he reassured, raising the fingers on one hand to twinkle a wave at Sandra, the beautiful girl behind the counter who buzzed you in. Disinfectant stung in your nostrils. 
“I think I’m doing a neutral thing,” you argued, holding the door open for him to pass through. “He doesn’t want to see me. He probably isn’t even awake yet. Maybe he’s a vegetable.” 
“Henderson said he flipped him off yesterday,” Munson grinned. “He’s fine, and he does want to see you.”
“Henderson?” You frowned, taking a step backwards from the threshold whence you came, thumbing to a different section of the building, far away from the people in lab coats and the looming threat that lay ahead. “Oh, I better go check in with him then.” 
Eddie caught your wrist and propelled you back toward him. “You saved Harrington’s life. I would kill for an opportunity like that. You get to lord it over him forever now.”
You sighed, faked a smile, tried not ignore the pit in your stomach, tried to forget the sting of ash and decay as you stripped yourself of your pack and ducked beside the brick fireplace, the only part of that little house that remained standing. 
You’d called out for Steve, again and again, panic stinging your lungs just as it had when you’d lost Vickie. Then the adrenaline kicked in, her voice and his, Steve’s, echoing instructions in your mind. Lift here, tug there. Your squats had come in handy. You walkied back to base, got an emergency evac vehicle. 
When you found Harrington, he was unconscious, face caked in ash, blood pooling somewhere beneath him. He was lucky he’d been in the stairwell and not any higher. A millisecond sooner, and he’d have been crushed by a toilet, a vanity, a king-sized bed. You cleared the rubble, checked him for major breakages, and hoisted him onto your back. He was so heavy.
“Just go in and tell him to say ‘thank you’ or you’ll pull the plug.” Eddie was shoving you through another door, but you noticed he hadn’t hurried to follow.
“Aren’t you coming with me?” You hissed, offering a nervous smile to a nearby man in mint scrubs.
“Nope,” your best friend grinned. “Got me a receptionist to flirt with.” He tousled his curls and leaned casually against a long countertop. 
Sandra appeared just over his shoulder, a sweet smile on her round face. “Two doors down,” she gestured. 
With clenched fists, you inched ahead as instructed. You were sweating. You didn’t even know what you were going to say. You just wanted to see if he looked small, if his hair still coifed perfectly against cotton sheets, if his mouth would turn up at the corners when he saw you. 
Your fingertips pressed to the door, and you heard laughing inside, a rasped voice. Your heart sank, stomach rolled. You glanced sideways into an open window and saw dirty blonde and freckles, and you turned heel for the start of the hallway.
Eddie stood on the other side of a closed door, waggling his fingertips, too-mischievous a smile playing across cat-like features. 
Then, she said your name. 
Robin Buckley stood ten feet away. She was dressed in civies, hair crimped and vest buttoned, and her sweet, freckled cheeks were pinched pink to compliment the sad sea of blue in her eyes. Her hand was raised in a greeting, the other arm wrapped around her ribcage, a shield, a nervous stance. 
You swallowed, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. But some other force was pushing you forward, one step at a time to split the distance. 
Her arms were around you in seconds, spindly, soft, and she smelled exactly as you always remembered: vanilla and patchouli, weed. She was warm, a bit of home you hadn’t had in months, hadn’t deserved. You didn’t deserve her. 
You pulled away, swallowing the lump in your throat, blinking away any emotional that threatened. “I was just coming to visit uh…” You gestured inwards, at a boy in too big a bed, brow crinkled, hair a riot against stark white linens. His eyes were squeezed shut, jaw clenched. 
“Oh yeah we were just,” she rasped, graveled voice sweet as honey. She gestured inward and paused before you watched her own eyebrow quirk. “Sleeping. He just fell asleep.” 
You settled on, “oh, good.” You didn’t feel right in your body, didn’t feel present, didn’t feel necessary. You’d interrupted a moment. You were an intruder. 
“Lucky for you,” Robin crossed to Steve’s bedside and grabbed her bag, tossing it over one shoulder, “I’m starving. Shall we go get some lunch?” 
You blinked at the invitation, the white walls closing in. She stared expectantly, soft blues and tans. “Oh, one of us should probably stay with…” You gestured once more toward the boy. The frown hadn’t left his face, though now it felt more of a grimace. You wondered if he might be in pain. 
“He’s fine,” Robin insisted, and you felt slender fingers jostle your shoulder. “Come on. Looks like you could use to get out of this Hell hole.”
You turned to look at Steve one last time, as you were herded along the corridor and back to reception, and his face had settled to one of peace. 
She drove you miles out of town, somewhere south, where a dry dirt road met a diner with a view of the lake. Ducks gathered at the banks and a child cried in a mother’s arms, and the sweet smell of maple syrup flooded your senses with some otherworldly nostalgia that ached in your molars and ribcage. 
She chatted the whole way there, as Robin was apt to do, a mess of words about life and her parents and foregoing university for community outreach, and you clutched the belt at your chest like it were a life vest.
She ordered a club sandwich with fries, and promised to share when you ordered a salad, not sure you could keep anything down. Not with the world on its axis like this, not with her cherry-stained smile as if nothing was wrong, as if this threesome wasn’t missing it’s essential party. 
“Thanks so much,” she smiled at the woman setting drinks down between you. The same red plastic cups you found in the Mess Hall made you feel like you were trapped in a simulation, some sort of sick joke. 
Robin stirred the ice in her soft drink with a red-and-white striped straw, and you watched the bubbles fizz through dark liquid to burst at the top. “Before I force you to tell me what the Hell is going on with you and Steve, I have to tell you something.”
You blinked back at her, the water in front of you unappetizing despite the dryness of your mouth. 
There was something uncanny about the way she spoke, too chipper, too soft, but you noticed she was avoiding your gaze, staring instead at the rings she wound around her fingers. Her nails were chipped in navy blues. “And I know you’re going to argue with me, because that’s who you are, and I’m not going to engage with that because this is honestly just my truth, you know? And I’ve spent a long time thinking about this, so I know how I feel.” 
“Robin,” you cut-off her anxious rambling, an auto-response you’d built over the last couple of years, muscle memory. 
Her mouth closed, and you watched the tick of her jaw, sunlight pouring in to cast her in honey and warmth. She was a thing of beauty, and to watch the wobble in her bottom lip as she clamped down it drew the breath from you. 
You sat in silence, wringing the paper napkin in your lap while she chipped more fervently at the blue polish, bits of it scattered across a coffee-stained tabletop. 
“I’m mad at you,” she finally came out with it, and the quaver in her voice punched you right in the stomach. Her eyes shone, harsh, dark. “I’m so fucking mad at you, and it’s so frustrating because it’s not even your fault, not really.” 
You swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall, the ache that clawed your inside with sharp talons and flower-faced teeth. 
“It’s not your fault she was flayed. It’s not your fault she had no other choice. It’s not your fault you didn’t have a choice, but none of that is what I’m mad about anyway,” she continued to ramble, twisting the rings around her fingers. “I’m mad that you left me. You just ditched me, and I understand you’re hurting, and I’m so sorry for that, but did you think for like half-a-second that I’m hurting too? And all I needed for the past three months was my best friend? You left me alone with Steve, for Christ’s sake. Steve! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love him with all of my heart, but he’s not good with things like this. He’s getting better, but he doesn’t know her like you do, and sometimes I just need to talk about her and -” 
“Robin,” you stopped her again, your breathing matching hers in speed, heart racing, lungs strained against your ribcage. 
Her mouth slammed shut, and her fingers went to her ears like a petulant child. “I’m not going to hear anything you have to say unless its an apology.” 
Your mouth hung open at that, processing her emotions, your own. A bell caught on the breeze, the softest of sounds, and then it felt like fingers carded through your hair, a hand to your shoulder, warmth, comfort, light. You released a sigh, “Robin, I’m so so sorry.” 
The corners of her lips turned up, and she rolled her eyes, reaching for the red plastic up. “I forgive you, obviously. Idiot.” She toed at your knee with the rubber toe of her shoe while she drank, and you both laughed off the emotion prickling in your eyes. 
You picked up your own water with a trembling hand and downed the ice cold liquid, letting it dampen the swell in your throat and chest. 
“Now that that’s settled, please tell me what the hell is going on between you and Dingus. The boy tells me nothing.” 
As the heat of summer fell away into fall, the sun went with it. You awoke in darkness, struggled to pull yourself out of bed after restless sleep. Daylight faded from the farmland too quickly, a mask of yellowed orange that covered naked branches that twisted up through browning leaves. It was cold and dark and reminded you of that place, an unfriendly reminder that loomed over your shoulder as you ran, lap after lap around a track. 
Three days after your lunch with Robin, you’d managed to peel yourself from sweat-drenched sheets to run off the dread that settled from a nightmare. You’d run with a friendly tune in your head, tainted ominous by each thump of footfall against the track, eery by the humming under your breath against the water pressure from the shower, your own voice echoing off tile walls. 
The sun was just coming up by the time you entered the dormitory corridor, dim warmth that seeped from sitting quarters and splashed across heavy steel doors. 
You scrubbed excess water from your ear with the towel draped over your shoulders and rounded the last corner, halting when you saw shadow framing your door. Tall, with broad shoulders, hand-raised in a knock. 
You sidestepped, tilted your head to get a better look, and nearly screeched to a halt when you reached an angle that let the light shine in. 
Steve Harrington waited for you to answer your door, jaw clenched, sporting short hair. It had been buzzed around his neck and ears, but remained long on top, parted down the center in adverse to his signature coif, a mess of brown that he tousled in one hand. 
You blinked back at him, taking in his stance, tight and uncomfortable, before it all sunk in. 
He was awake. He was standing. He suffered no broken bones, only a concussion and several bumps and bruises, so you shouldn’t have been surprised. He was waiting at your door.
“Shit,” you snapped yourself out of it and crossed to him.
He startled and spun on his heel to face you, eyes alight with surprise. He looked good like this, more adult. Maybe that was the official nature of his stance, or the stack of documents he held under one arm. “Um… hi.” He greeted, scratching at the back of his neck. You wondered if he missed the locks back there that were so easy to sink your fingers into.
You swallowed, blinked back at him. “Hi.”
“Are you okay?” He asked, extending a hand your direction, although the look on his face was less comforting than perturbed. 
“Your hair,” you gestured, biting back a sarcastic smile aching at your cheeks. “Are you okay?” 
That famous Harrington eye roll greeted you, and he shifted to expose the stack of manila envelopes under his arm, wrapping his knuckles against the top. “I brought you something to look at. Could we uh…?” He nodded the closed door to your room. 
“Oh, shit, yeah,” you shuffled with the key in your pocket, the little brass thing tethered to a decade old friendship bracelet that had long since fallen off Vickie’s wrist.
Harrington stepped out of your way, and you fumbled with the lock until the door popped open to reveal a mess of dirty laundry and dishes strewn about. You cursed under your breath and scurried to kick things into their appropriate corners. You winced at the crash of plates in your sink, and scurried to the bed to pull the duvet up and over two scrunched pillows. 
Harrington set his haul on your rickety table.
When you’d finished your tidy, you turned to face him, a bit flustered, but you hadn’t anticipated catching him in the act of sizing up his own reflection in the mirror. He frowned, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to flatten the sheer volume peaking the fringe pieces. 
“It looks good,” you offered, delighted when he jumped at the sound of your voice, hand snapping back to his side. 
“They um… they had to do it for the stitches.” He gestured to the back of his head. 
Following the curvature of his skull on the left side were ten tiny stitches, black thread holding his flesh together where there’d been a gaping wound. You’d wrapped something around him to stop the bleeding, your shirt, maybe. You couldn’t remember much from that horrible morning, only the aches of your muscles as the exhaustion willed you to sleep on a cot in the Med Bay that first night you’d been asked to quarantine. 
“How’re you feeling?” You asked. 
Harrington nodded. He watched his own fingers dance along the tabletop. “Good. Nothing broken. They released me about an hour ago.” He glanced up at you, a shadow cast from the bridge of his nose as morning light began to seep in from frosted windows. 
“Good,” you managed a soft smile, hoped he could feel the relief that relaxed your shoulders. 
“Hey, um…” He scratched at that stubble on the base of his neck once more. “Thank you for uh… saving my ass.” His eyes found yours, humble and honest. 
You took a few steps forward and hesitated to reach for his arm until he put his hand out to catch yours. You gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “Guess those squats were worth it after all.” 
You bit back another smile, stomach swooping as one again his eyes rolled back into his head. You released his hand and swatted at his stomach before pulling out a chair at your little rickety table to seat yourself at. “You need to lay off the brisket, big boy. I nearly threw my back out.”
“You need to quit hanging out with Munson,” Harrington slid into the seat next to you, spinning the stack of files your direction. “You’re staring to sound just like him.” 
You cocked a brow. “You threw Munson’s back out?” 
Watching him fight back sass tickled you more than you thought it might, the same relief you felt pulling Robin into a hug after your day out together. It felt like your axis was righting itself, like maybe your world was staring to feel a little less Upside Down. 
Harrington tapped two fingers to the top of the pile in front of you. “Erica stole these for me. If anyone finds out, we’re screwed. And we owe her our dessert cards for the next two months.” 
You snorted and flipped open the soft manila folder to find the face of a bright-eyed girl with red hair and freckles. Her jaw had been tightened, eyes a little wild, determined, and God, she’d been so young. Instinctively, your fingertips trailed the glossy coating of the photograph, and you wished you could feel the softness of her skin, smell her mom’s detergent on her clothes. You wished you could wrap her into your arms, like you’d done with Robin, and make her laugh, Hell, make her roll her eyes like you did with Steve. 
“These are her files, anything Erica could get her hands on. I peeked through them, but I didn’t want to get too far in without you.” Steve said, voice achingly soft beside you. “They’re in chronological order. Psych eval, medical tests.”
You thumbed through the first few pages, her enlistment form. Perfectly typewritten was every historical accuracy about your best friend. Her full name, the street she grew up on, her blood type. And after a few pages, you’d come across a picture of yourself, your information labeled under PARTNER. 
“If anything’s too hard to get through, let me know.” Your new partner leaned forward on his forearms, staring at your upside down photograph, his hair falling into his eyes. 
You swallowed, nodded, and turned another page. 
Hours had gone by, you weren’t sure how long, but the warm light cast upon Steve’s face suggested it was mid-afternoon, broaching evening. You’d learned much about your best friend and at the same time nothing at all. You’d choked upon all of the times she defended you, or told a higher up how wonderful you were, how worthy, how competent. Never once were you disparaged. Never once had she fought or fallen out of line. 
You wondered if you should have started at the bottom of the pile, worked your way back to the moment she’d been flayed, but when you’d mentioned, Steve halted your wrist and told you he’d take the bottom half. You thought to argue, to protest, but the look in his eye was soft, not scolding, and the grip on your wrist was loose.
You caught yourself watching him work, both of your voices hoarse from passages read aloud. When he concentrated, his brow crinkled, and the tip of his tongue stuck to the corners of his lips. You’d caught him, on several occasions, harrumphing over hair fallen into his eyes that couldn’t be tossed back like it used to. 
Now, as you glanced up from another mission log transcription, you saw the wave of warmth fan his features, and immediately he winced at the glare, fingers rubbing at bloodshot eyes. 
“Are you okay?” You asked, alarmed at the grit of his teeth. 
“Yeah, just um…” He squinted your direction. “Eye strain, I think. I should have been wearing my glasses.” 
You leapt up, if for no other reason than you cover him with your shadow, the frosted glass above your bed lacking curtains. “The concussion probably doesn’t help. Let’s take a break.” 
He emitted a soft groan and rubbed at his eyes again, pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefingers. “You’re probably right. Is that okay?”
You wrapped your arms around yourself and glanced down at the heft of his pile still remaining, hidden pages calling out to you. “Yeah, totally. It’s all kind of blurring together at this point anyway.” 
“Yeah, right,” he inched his way up and out of his chair, retrieving a sweatshirt he’d shed toward early afternoon off the back of his chair and stuffing his head into it. He’d unintentionally crowded your space, all limbs, and he smelled clean and a little sterile.
Somewhere in his reflection, a flash of orange caught your eye. You glanced sideways at the dingy mirror, the expanse of his back, the stitched scar at the base of his skull. 
“Do me a favor?” He muttered, running his fingers through his hair for the dozenth time. 
You hummed and tore your gaze from the mirror image.
“Don’t look at that stuff without me.” 
The piles sat between you, typewritten notes on stark white pages that beckoned. You glanced downward and caught your name, a conversation with Owens post-mission. Just a handful of pages beneath that was the log you knew you were looking for, maybe images taken post-mortem, maybe a death certificate. 
“We just don’t know what it could kick up. What if it triggers something?” Harrington wrapped his knuckles against the tabletop, recapturing your attention. 
You swallowed, eyes a little glassy from exhaustion, and nodded. “Sure, yeah. You want to take them with you?” 
He shook his head, shrugged. “I trust you.” He turned and clicked open the door. The hallway beyond was quiet, dark save the glow of a red EXIT sign. Before he left, he turned to offer a squinted smile, the faintest upturn of his pink lips. “You going to be alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you reassured. Something had shifted, crashed apart with the stairs of that house. Moments that bond often have this affect on relationships, you’d discovered that much over the past few years. 
Steve nodded and left, door closing softly behind him.
As he did so, the papers on the tabletop fluttered closer to you, an unseen force shifting things back into your line of sight. A label slipped out of the bottom stack, and typed in careful letters you read the word ‘FLAYED’. 
You left in a hurry, shoving all of your dirty clothes into a basket to haul downstairs. You took a turn on the track as your pants dried. You avoided your room like something had begun to grow in the walls, a pitch black ooze that spread with every footstep.
You couldn’t be there, couldn’t read it, and yet every inch of you itched to know the truth, to get answers. 
When you’d exhausted most avenues of distraction, you finally found yourself in the corridor just south of the Caf. Moonlight pooled in through windows along the hall, casting everything in sterile whites and soft greys. Your stomach rumble was louder than each footstep. The kitchen staff had locked the pantries to maintain rations, but this wasn’t your first excursion sneaking in for a midnight snack. 
Your laundry basket released from your hands and fell with a thwack to the linoleum before you elbowed through one of the swinging double doors, port hole window catching your reflection in the moonlight. The kitchen was otherwise pitch black, and you hadn’t needed a flashlight for the laundry room. 
Taking careful steps in the darkness, you narrowly avoided a butcher’s block, but smacked your hip bone against a wide, metal stove. Pots and pans clattered above you, and you scrambled to keep them afloat, cursing yourself for definitely waking anyone sleeping at least five floors up.
“Hello?” The seam to the walk-in split open, and you were suddenly blinded in a thick beam of warm light.
You held your hands up to shield your eyes, and when you heard your name, you peered into the darkness to make out the broad-shouldered silhouette of your new partner. “Harrington?”
He tilted the torchlight from your vision, and you saw he had a baseball bat over his other shoulder, of which nail spikes were sparkling from the end. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.” He grumbled, turning back into the refrigerator as though this was a perfectly normal occasion. 
“What the Hell?” You sighed and followed him. “What’re you doing down here?” 
He shrugged, spinning the flashlight in his hand to give you the handle. Then, he pulled a three gallon tub of ice cream off a nearby shelf and hoisted it under his arm. “What does it look like I’m doing down here?” 
He pushed past you in a fog of steamed breath, and you followed before the door slammed shut. He dropped the tub onto a countertop with a hollow thud and the bat scraped along the ground as he propped it next. 
You watched him search a couple of drawers for two spoons, illuminating his path back to you.
“I haven’t had ice cream in like three years,” he explained, taking the flashlight from you to prop on a windowsill near him. Reflected light illuminated the hollows of his cheeks, the bags under his eyes. “But I’ve had this crazy hankering since that house fell on me.” 
You snorted and hoisted yourself onto the countertop beside him, ice from the tub melting against your bare leg. “Why the aversion to ice cream?”
Steve sighed, peeling the lid from the top and handing you a spoon before diving in himself. “When you spend half a summer slinging cones and banana splits, the smell of it gets a little sickening.”
You’d almost forgotten, memories of Starcourt Mall feeling like another lifetime. Vickie and you had gone every weekend after it opened, delighting in the comfortable seating at the movie theatre and spending far too many hours pouring over albums at the music store. She’d insist on scoops from Scoops just before you left, and you’d initially thought she was fawning over the sailor boy, with his voluminous, highlighted hair, his doe eyes, his glossy lips. Turns out, she wanted to gawk at her pep band compatriot, the pretty, awkward girl with band-aids on her knees. 
You watched over the tub as he took his bite in shadow, eyelashes fanning his cheeks, brows furrowed against the cold. “How is it?” You smiled, reaching in near to your elbow to take a scoop for yourself. There was no way to tell what flavor it was at this point, but knowing the quality of food at the caf, you had a feeling your options were limited to chocolate or vanilla. 
“It’s no SS Butterscotch,” but he went back in, spoon clanging against your own. “What’re you doing down here?” 
You shrugged, spooned frigid cream into your mouth. You winced at the cold, but the sweet vanilla cream melted against your taste buds, and you sighed, leaning against the wall behind you. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Did you read any more of Vickie’s file?” He winced around the cold, brought his fist up to cover a cough. 
You frowned back at him. “You told me not to.” 
His eyebrows raised at that, and he shrugged, shoveling himself another spoonful. “I didn’t think you’d listen. I use that tactic with the kids.”
“Hey, fuck you,” you growled, mouthful. 
In the silhouette, you swear you caught a smirk flash across boyish features. “So… I heard you talked to Robin.” 
You hummed, the chill from your ice cream and the metal countertop creating a small shiver. You shifted your thighs, unsticking them from the surface, and tugged down on your shorts. “Yeah, we had a really nice lunch the other day.”
He avoided eye contact, licking his spoon clean. 
Over French fries, your heartfelt apologies turned to chatter, the two of you falling back into old rhythms, humming old ear worms and gossiping. Robin vented about the try-hard team lead in her gardening society, and you, with matched eye rolls, vented about Steve’s overbearing demeanor when it came to the mats, the pool, the turf. Robin ensured you he was like that in the beginning, and that he’s just protective. You couldn’t help but feel the fizz of your stomach when she mentioned he cared about you. 
You wondered how much she’d shared. “I uh… I apologized for going AWOL.” You spun your spoon between your fingers, the cool metal glinting in dim light. 
“Why did you,” he asked after a long moment, voice cutting the stillness in the air, “go AWOL?”
You glanced up at him again, and this time he was watching you, eyes hooded in shadow, but the glint of them traced your features. You swallowed and looked away, stared instead at his silhouette on the adjacent wall, the curve of a strong brow and nose and jaw, the dip of his throat. 
You struggled for words, feeling the heat of him staring you down, but finally you settled on an explanation that felt right. “Because I’m a coward, and because I didn’t feel I deserved her friendship, not after all of the heartache I caused. Still don’t.”
He didn’t respond, and you sat in silence for a long while until you felt brave enough to look at him again. His shoulders were slumped, and his lips were parted as if he were going to ask something else. 
Terrified he might spill some truth that you weren’t ready for, you spilled out a question that had been lingering for months, a year. “What did I do to make you hate me?” The words felt sticky, your throat coated with vanilla ice cream and regret. 
His jaw slammed shut, eyes tracking yours once more. 
“We used to be…” Bets placed on the Scorch field, the sparring mats, shot-for-shot from the whisky glass snuck out of Hopper’s office desk drawer, truth or dare whispered while Robin and Vickie slept in an adjacent bed, the exchange of steamed breath watching the stars, nose-to-nose, the flutter of lashes. “Friends. Then we were all up for Scorch Leads, and you just… went AWOL.”
You picked at the rolled paper lip of the ice cream tub, focusing on that spot instead of the eyes watching you. “Is my competitiveness really that annoying?” 
“Yes,” he said, snapping your attention back to his mouth, and the corners had curled every so slightly.
You warmed, rolled your eyes. 
He scratched at the stubble on the back of his neck, rolled his shoulders. “You want to know why I was such an asshole when we were up for that promotion?” 
You nodded. Another shiver wracked through you, and you realized you’d been leaning against the tub. 
Steve sighed, picked the lid off the counter beside you and replaced it, the top puffing with air when it was sealed. “Remember that first mission? When they dumped us in the middle of nowhere and we had to find our way back? And you and Vickie took twice as long as everyone else?”
“It was not twice as long,” you rolled your eyes. It took you so long because you had to be thorough, you had to prove yourself, no one wanted it more than you. When you’d heard about Team Lead promotions, it was the first time in years you felt like your existence was made for something. Your expertise paid off.
Your new partner lifted the tub and carried it back across the room to the walk-in, catching the swing of the door with his shoe.
You hopped off the countertop and tossed metal spoons into a massive metal sink. They clanged near the drain. 
Steve’s voice was muffled from inside the freezer. “Robin and I waited at the Gate for you. She wore a hole in the pavement pacing, and I sat with my back to a big tree and realized I’d do whatever it took to win, or at least to make sure you guys didn’t.” He returned with a banana, which he placed into your palm before going for his bat and flashlight. 
“What’s this for?” You held up the fruit, cold to the touch and followed him out the swinging double doors.
“Potassium’s good for muscles, and it helps your body process calcium.” He said, like a info doc on the Public Broadcasting Station. 
You sighed and tossed it to the top of your laundry pile before hoisting the basket back under your arm. “Wait, are you saying you thought Vickie and I wouldn’t make good leads?” 
“No,” he swung the bat over one shoulder, beam of light illuminating your joint path upward. “I’m saying that by becoming leads, there’d be a higher chance of you being in danger. All I ever wanted was to keep you safe.” 
You tried not to lose pace with him, feet fumbling, stomach swooping, and you glanced up at him through your eyelashes. You couldn’t make out his features in the dark, but you felt him watching you, felt the brush of his bicep against yours. 
“Eat your banana,” he said, and you continued up the stairs in soft, surrendered silence.
The yard was clean, grass long-since browned, and leaves swept into a large pile. The cars in the driveway didn’t belong to her parents, no, these were new. In fact, the entire home didn’t feel like home to you anymore, not like it used to. A porch swing creaked on the wind, stark white paint cracked and cushion oozing ichor from a rainstorm long since past. 
You heard a scuffle from the garage, swung right, calling out for her, searching a greyscale landscape for a shock of orange. You took a step forward, tripped over an unwound garden hose. 
“She can’t come to the phone right now,” she said, only it wasn’t her, wasn’t her voice, something deeper.
You looked up, but when you tried to scream her name again, a hand was covering your mouth, a strong arm lifting you backwards, away from the scene. Your friend lay, lifeless before you, skin melting into the concrete driveway like plastic. You screamed, kicked, clawed, bit at the hand cutting off your airflow, to no relief. 
Suffocating, drowning, the world around you blurring with blue lights, a face peering through the swell, that menacing grin, all teeth, no lips. You screamed, bubbles rising before your eyes. You kicked, vines tangled around your ankles, dragging you downward, darkness all-encompassing.
The fluorescents buzzed and the tape whirred in its recorder. That distant throb in your skull hadn’t receded in days. Your chair creaked with each bounce of your knee, an energy you’d picked up from your partner, and you rubbed at tired eyes, squinting across a large table. In a chair at the other end was the pitied frown of one Dr. Sam Owens. 
“We did find a small laceration on her ankle, and her falling into this creature would account for that.” He explained. He was being gentle, as if you hadn’t snuck into the files, as if you hadn’t stared at the photographs of her lifeless corpse, as if you hadn’t seen the black liquid oozing from her skin. 
You nodded, picking at a scratch in the tabletop. 
“And you’re saying this virus had been gestating for a month before she showed any signs of being flayed?” 
You shrugged, picked a little harder, until it bent your nail at the corner. “You’re the doctor. I’m just telling you what I remember.” 
“Okay, alright, I appreciate that.” You heard the click of the tape deck, glanced up to find two fingers on the stop button. When you looked up, Owens had sat one leg on the tabletop. “How’re you doing, kid?” 
A shiver wracked through you, some twisted all-knowing presence that had given you away. Maybe it was the squint of your eyes against the lights, maybe your nose had begun bleeding again, you couldn’t be sure at this point, couldn’t feel much for the buzz in your skull and fingertips. 
“Do you understand why Hop and I picked you and Vickie as our team leaders?” He asked when you hadn’t responded, folding his hands over his lap. Crisp checked sleeves were rolled over the cuffs of a brown sweater. Everything about this man was soft and cleaned, so far removed from the grit and grime that surrounded your day-to-day. “It’s because you understood our mission here.” 
You frowned, unsure where this unprompted speech was coming from, unsure what he was talking about, unsure how long you’d been in this room, how long you’d been awake, how long you could cling to the sliver of sanity holding you together. 
“You understood that all of this,” he gestured to the room around you. Two massive windows looked out at the expanse of woods, everything tinged ruby red and honey yellow, that nightmare-fuel flash of orange. “This isn’t about redemption. It’s not about righting our wrongs, of which, we’re all guilty.” 
His eyes were deep blue like the waters of a pool, but soft, careful. You thought of Vickie, of the mournful look on her face when she plead for you to snuff out her light. You thought of the lifeless corpse on a slab, photographed with naught but a sterile sheet maintaining her modesty. 
“No, it’s about renewal. It’s about ridding this world of this festering sore, this virus, so it can learn and grow, so we can learn and grow and restart our lives. Not pick up where we left off, but pull ourselves up from the ashes and create something better.”
You blinked back at him, the wall in your mind, in your heart, fighting with his words. That competitive nature you’ve been biting back all week threatening to escape. Instead, you grit your teeth. “Anything else you need from me, Doc?” 
Owens sighed, gave you that pitied look you’d received since Vickie died, since you killed her, since you gave up on her. He shook his head and gestured to walk you to the door. “Take care of yourself, kid.” 
How could you build a new life without her when she was always home? How could you rise from the ashes of her funeral pyre when you lit the match? 
The bass was low, a rattle in your bones arhythmic to your heart. You were hyper aware of your heartbeat, it having clambered against your skull for the past three days, maybe longer, you didn’t know anymore. Neon lights buzzed against newspaper clipping covered walls, all-encompassing, a tornado of information about Indiana’s State Fair and blue ribbons and reds and yellows and blues and greens. 
A shove to your shoulder drew everything back into focus. Eddie’s brows were stitched together, jaw clamped shut. He was pissed. At you, specifically. He’d bullied you into joining the gang at Roadie’s tonight, blackmailed you, in fact. Now, here you stood, knocking back tequila to no lasting affect, receiving a pool stick from your teammate’s hand. 
“We’re solids,” he instructed, nodding toward the felted green table. 
“I got it,” you snapped. 
The seven was lined up for an easy left pocket, and you sunk it before going after the three. The felt was soft under your finger tips, and the lamp heated up over your head, and something about the angle of your elbow nearly cleared someone’s beer from the lip of the table. They caught it, but your cue ball missed the three entirely, whiffing itself into a tailspin. 
You cursed under your breath and stood back up into a full conversation you’d somehow missed, laughter and crinkled eyes. You frowned at Eddie, passing him back the stick. 
“Argyle whistled at your ass, and you knocked his beer off the table,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re actually doing quite well for not being here.”
You glanced over his shoulder at Argyle, who held his hands, and a bottle, up in surrender, brown eyes wide. “Hey, man, please don’t kick my ass. I was just complimenting a beautiful woman.” 
It took a second for his words to set in, for the blur of the roadhouse to dull, and when they finally clicked, you plastered on a smile and plucked the remainder of the boy’s beer from his hand. The liquid was room temperature at best, the glass coated in condensation.
Your group erupted in laughter. 
Argyle was harmless, and only ever flattered, and you felt that if you were really present, if your laugh was genuine, things tonight might feel exactly as they had before. 
“I’m getting waters,” Steve ran a hand through the new curtains of his hair and turned for the bar. Robin rubbed between his shoulder blades. Nancy knelt over the pool table, sinking thirteen, twelve, eleven. It was Jonathan’s turn to whistle, and she hip-checked him with a smug look on her face before sinking fifteen and nine. 
“I’m so glad you came out,” Robin appeared at your side, warm and perfumed.
“Me too,” you smiled, avoiding the glares you were receiving from Eddie across the table. His incessant knocking pulled you out of bed, and he practically had to force you to put real clothes on. 
“Quick, before Steve comes back, tell me a secret about him no one else would know.” Argyle grinned behind another bottle he’d scrounged up table side. He’d also extended a basket of fries to you. 
You took one, a little soggy, and thought behind your hand as you chewed. 
“Oh my God, he wears glasses at night like an old man.” Robin snickered. 
Argyle gasped, the exact kind of scandal he was fishing for. “I bet he looks good in glasses.” 
“He does,” Nancy confirmed from the table. Jonathan seemed less impressed at this revelation. “Eight ball middle pocket.” And with a sturdy clack, it went in. 
Eddie cursed and peeled a couple of dollars from his wallet. 
“We get winner!” Robin declared, nabbing the pool stick propped near Eddie’s walker. 
“Aw man, I wish I had a partner,” Argyle lamented into his fries.
“No, you don’t,” Steve appeared, taking the neck of your bottle from your hand before replacing it with a plastic cup full of ice water. 
You rolled your eyes, but sipped, the frigid water a nice wash against the buzzing under your skin. His warmth beside you was welcoming too, the smell of his cologne.
“Sure I do. You get to learn all kinds of things no one else would know. Come on, tell me something about her.” 
Your heart sank under Steve’s gaze. You had one big secret, one looming bad guy that only Steve and Eddie knew about. None of you had told Robin. None of you could tell Robin. You tried not to focus now, tried to keep the nightmares at bay. 
“She’s a terrible swimmer,” he settled on. “Like one of the worst I’ve ever taught, and I used to teach toddlers… and Robin.” 
“Fuck off, Harrington,” Robin cackled, breaking the rack with an immense thwack. “You are just the world’s worst helicopter mom.”
“I’d back off if you could walk up a set of stairs without tripping,” he snapped back. 
“Says the guy who had an entire staircase fall under his weight,” you commented.
Everyone laughed. You even felt the rumble of Steve’s chest against your bicep, that warmth slowly thawing the freeze. 
“Jonathan, what do you guys think? Having a partner all it’s cracked up to be?” Argyle mused to his best friend. 
Jonathan sunk the first ball of the game and shrugged. “It’s nice when someone has your back. Nance can get a little bossy though…” 
Nancy rolled her eyes and took a long swig of her beer. She wiped the corners of her mouth as she swallowed and said, “Jonathan hums, constantly. No matter what we’re doing, he’s humming.”
Just as she said it, he stopped the tapping of his hands to his thigh, and you all pointed in glee at the discovery. 
“Hey, nothing wrong with a man with rhythm,” Eddie grinned, slapping a high-five to his friend. 
“God, Vickie does that too,” you chimed in, enjoying the camaraderie you’d been missing for so long. “She just gets these like ear worms and she has to sing them. Drives me up a wall.” 
You hadn’t realized what you’d said until Steve stiffened beside you, until you made eye contact with a sad smile from Eddie. Your blood ran cold. 
“Oh my God, I know! She was constantly getting things stuck in my head,” Robin pitched in to help you recover, but you noticed the waver in her voice, and it crushed your insides a little harder. 
“My go?” Steve cleared his throat, stepping forward to take the stick from her hands. You noticed she’d been wringing it. You felt sick.
When Steve bent to strike another ball, Eddie whistled, and the tension was quickly diffused with another round of laughter. Everyone began to chatter again, but the noise had faded under the dull thrum of bass and the buzz of neon, and the ice cold terror that lingered there between your shoulder blades. 
You muttered an excuse for the bathroom, but walked straight out the double doors and into the cold autumn air.
This time of night felt like being there, in the Ether. Sun set, everything went to grayscale save the sign attracting moths overhead. The red cast over the gravel parking lot, shimmering off chrome tailpipes and the hood of Harrington’s car. That same lingering damp clung to the air, steaming your breath, chattering your teeth, and you propped yourself against a corrugated tin wall. It smelled of iron and cigarette smoke, and your tongue tasted of tequila and regret. 
Your head spun, eyes ached and dry with exhaustion. No sleep felt easier than sleep these days, but you noticed each came with a price. Your muscles twitched, like a shiver, but incessant. Either way, you couldn’t escape them. 
She was always out of reach now, concerned features just past the focus of your view. She donned the same face as in the photograph: sad, frightened, determined. Her hair was crispy at the ends, a shock of orange burnt black, and soot coated the fingers of her extended hand. 
He was there too, less visible, but somewhere in the recesses, always lingering behind, waiting for the opportune moment, a terrifying face above rippled water that beckoned. 
You heard the crunch of boots against gravel, a noise from reality that sucked you back, wracked a shiver through you. You wiped at a running nose and plastered on a fake smile to ensure you were alright. 
But Robin hadn’t come to check on you, as you assumed she might. No, in her stead was Steve, face knotted up in worry, fingers carding through short hair. 
And you didn’t know what made you do it, maybe these unseen forces, maybe the embarrassment from inside, or maybe you’d just been dying to do it for well over a year now, but you swung on him. Full fist, knuckles connecting with cheekbone, and he stumbled backward in surprise before blocking your neck swing.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, grasping your wrist in his hand. 
“What’s wrong with me?” You called, tearing your arm from his grip to shove at his chest. “What’s wrong with me, Harrington? I had to murder my best friend. I had to take a torch to her living, breathing, screaming body and not let go of the trigger until she stopped. I have to relive it every single day of my life, and I’m just supposed to be strong about it and okay with it because this is the life I’ve chosen to live.” 
You accentuated each thought with another shove until he was backed against a wall, his Member’s Only jacket fisted in your grasp, and then, he was wrapped around you, arms tight, the pressure of his large hand relieving the throb in your skull as your body wracked with sobs. You nearly crashed to your knees, but he stumbled and held you upright. One strong arm swung around your ribs, while the other stroked your hair. 
“You were supposed to protect me. To keep me safe,” You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, gasping for air as you sunk your fingernails into his shoulders, desperate for his help. 
Heat fanned your face, soft lips pressed to your temple to draw your focus, and you felt the steady inhale, exhale of his broad body against yours. He guided you to match his breath. “I know. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”
You finally relaxed into him, face tucked into a warm neck, his presence all-encompassing, a splash of water on a puffy face, and when you felt grounded enough, you released his jacket, allowing your arms to drop at your sides. 
His release was slower still, and large hands came to cup your face, to thumb away your tears, but you couldn’t bear to look at him, embarrassed or heart broken or angry, maybe all three. 
He spoke your name, soft, tender, and you brought your hands up to pull his wrists. His hands fell away easily. 
You glanced up at him, avoiding eye contact, and noticed a splash of red against his white t-shirt. “You’re bleeding,” you mumbled, fingertips trailing the small patch of blood, maroon spreading across the cotton fibers. 
“No, you are,” he said.
When you met his gaze, something happened, a shift you couldn’t explain. You felt the world rumble beneath your feet, saw the gaping maws of gates flash behind your eyes. Like the drop of a bass, the dull throb in your skull shifted to searing pain. You mopped at the blood on your upper lip with trembling fingers. “Something’s wrong.” 
You thought you might tumble over, equilibrium changing. 
Steve caught you in his arms. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?” 
You heard your name from somewhere close by: her voice, a warning. You glanced to your right and saw Nancy and Jonathan rushing out of the double doors. 
“Steve!” Nancy called. “Massive seismic activity detected. We have to go right now.”
Argyle was rushing to start up his truck. Eddie and Robin were closed behind, hugging leather and denim jackets to their bodies. 
“Take care of her,” Steve and Eddie spoke simultaneously, pointing at their perspective best friends. 
Steve rounded on you. “Are you good?” 
Unsure, but determined, you nodded, and he slipped his hand in yours to hoist you into the truck bed. As the five of you sped off into the night, you could just make out Robin and Eddie under the glow of the neon sign, a shock of orange lingering behind them. 
---
A/N: Finally, a reunion with Robin! As I was writing her at the diner, I was like uhhhh... I think I'm in love with her. So that's fun. And the Reader and Steve are finally getting closer, finally getting over their issues... kind of? Please come yell at me about it. Thanks. Love you! Thanks, as always, for reading xo xo xo
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