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heyidkyay · 6 months

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part One

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Warnings: This is gonna deal with a lot of controversial shit surrounding Matty and his past I'm ngl, so if you're not into that then I'd suggest not reading this! But if you are, then hi!! I hope you enjoy?

Authors Note: I'm back...:)) Back with a series too, or it will be if this first part goes down well! Lmao so pls don't hate it! Butttt in all honestly, I do have to quickly thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for all the kind words she gave me on the snippets I annoyed her with recently and for forcing me to actually believe in this fic because I very much was on the fence about posting again. So thank youuuu, it means a whole lot<3 Also, the skeleton of this was taken from a very old fic of mine which I started during the height of covid that I've just been thinking about trying to better for a long while now, so... enjoy?

And I guess let me know if this is something anyone would want to read more of? Yeeeeah, I really don't know what else to write here now, it's been a while, so! Hi, help, bye:)

Masterlist

“Yeah, yeah! I’m really into their sound at the minute! Honestly fell in love with their recent performance at the VMA’s- didn’t overdo it and kept true to themselves. Definitely did a great job there, so well done with that one if you’re listening in, lads!”

I was grinning from ear to ear as I spoke into the microphone before me, which was to be expected whenever I was at work. Strange, yeah I know, but only to any typical person with the usual nine to five, because I truly did love my job. It was tough work, strenuous at times, contrary to what most might believe, but it was pretty much everything I’d ever dreamt of.

See, I’d grown up on the outskirts of this tiny village in the Isles, where everybody knew everything about everybody. Secrets were never well kept- you could just ask our local priest about that one, who had often used to regale most of the confessions he’d heard in the only pub around for miles whenever he was pissed beyond being able to sit on his barstool. And it was also incredibly tight-knit, as in, all the kids who went to school together, then grew up and married one another, settling down and taking over the jobs that their parents or grandparents soon retired from. Hardly anyone moved away, if ever.

In reality though, it was actually just a place I’d always felt like a stranger in. Where I’d struggled to fit in and make friends, to form bonds outside of the one I shared with my mum.

I’d had a tough go of it back in school actually. ‘Mouse’ was what they’d seemingly dubbed me back then, a nickname which had travelled the masses all too quickly seeing as there had only been about sixteen kids in both my year and the one above.

It had mostly been due to me just having been an extremely timid child, hiding behind my mum’s flowing skirts whenever we went into town and much preferring that of my own company. But that fact hadn’t gotten any easier for me once I’d been forced out of school for a few years after an accident that had flipped my entire life on its head. Resulting in me being further isolated from the rest of the world and my fuck-face of a father running for the hills.

Still. Shit happened, I supposed, and I’d been forced to grow up.

Too quickly, in truth.

So whilst everyone else had been out living, I’d been holed up in our little dove cottage miles away from them all, with only books and music to keep me company. Music which had been a true constant in my life and just about the only thing that had gotten me by.

As well as my mum, who’d forever be my rock. And back when we’d both been growing up, she had always had the tele on full blast throughout the day, cycling through the freeview channels that played the recent top 50 and old school classics.

It was one of my favourite things to look back on now, if she was ever in the mood, or when the power would finally flicker and go out completely, she’d spin this old phonograph her own father had gifted her in the days before she’d left home. The two of us would dance around the living room whilst she’d clean on Saturday mornings and then hum to it as we settled in for a long storm, her working on her trusty crossword whilst I would read or draw. It would croon out old French records she had bought long before she’d moved to the UK, and before she’d ever even met my dad.

And I would just lose myself in it all.

It wasn’t just the basic premise of music that I had enjoyed though, it was everything else that also came along with it. The opinions, the reviews, the personal stories and thoughts, the way it made a person feel.

So, for years I would just sit down at the kitchen table and write for hours on end about the sound, the rhythms I’d felt and heard, the lyrics that had had me bellowing out or playing on a never-ending loop in my head. And then, as a teen, Twitter had come along and had been just another way for me to express it all.

That was what had led to all this actually. The radio.

At first, I’d never paid much mind to all of the people who had started to discover the small page I’d created, the users that had enjoyed reading my inner thoughts. But then I had and it had been an insane concept to comprehend, but was also what had, ultimately, pushed me into continuing with it.

From there, opinions on genres of music and their style throughout different decades turned into thoughts on up and coming artists, then actors and other A-list celebrities. So, I’d ended up spending an awful lot of time online, simply just tweeting about it all, on subjects followers had wanted to hear about and answering questions on whether I loved a certain album or new EP.

The account had grown rapidly after and by the time I’d had the balls to tell my mum I’d wanted to leave home and make a start for myself, in London of all places, it had gained well over fifteen thousand followers.

I went to uni down there and met people. People who didn’t shy away from me or shine a light on my odd quirks. I met my best mate there, too. And Finn was unlike any other. The platonic love of my life, or so I’d dubbed. He was eccentric, witty, and didn’t care about what anyone else thought of him. Forced me to feel that way too, slowly but surely. And it had only taken a few weeks before he'd grown rather suspicious of my constant need to always have my phone near.

He had, pretty early on, decided that I must’ve had some secret boyfriend back at home that I’d yet to tell him about and had annoyed me about it at every twist and turn, basically backed me into a metaphorical corner. So to say I’d relented fairly quickly wouldn’t be a lie, and I’d told him all about the account soon enough.

Finn had actually been the one to suggest that I take it somewhere bigger, make it into something people could tune into and not just read about. I had actually taken that consideration on board way back then, but had only acted on it when shit had hit the fan a year or so later. But we'll get to that.

So with it all, I’d made an actual radio show out of my thoughtless Twitter account, allowing people to listen in and actually get to know the person behind the name.

That was essentially how ‘Mouse On A Mic' had come to life.

Yup, I’d kept the fucking nickname! I couldn’t not in truth, it was familiar, reminded me of the person I once was, and who I am now. But the only difference was, I’d given it a new story. I’d claimed it.

The show's audience grew fairly quickly during that first year, I was new on the scene and seemingly refreshing. I had a no-bullshit kind of attitude that my listeners admired. I called celebs out on their crap and went to new extremes to conjure up inventive ways to get followers involved.

Ultimately doing things that other radio presenters were afraid to do at the time. Which was fair enough, in hindsight, they had actual endorsers and brands that were backing them up and funding their streams. Me, on the other hand, had no-one to answer to for my mistakes or any backlash the show received. It was just me, sat alone in my bedroom, speaking into a mic.

Only now, it was me sitting in a quaint little studio in East, not too far from my flat and walking distance from any and every coffee chain London had to offer.

Anyway, back to the current show! I adjusted my headset over my ear as I wheeled closer to the table, aware of the many monitors and cables I was constantly trying to avoid and glanced upwards, locking eyes with my co-producer, Adi.

The girl shot me a hurried gesture, a circular wave of her hand that had me chuckling to myself even as I waved her off, knowing I’d already gotten off track one too many times this recording.

"Alright! It seems as though we've got to move on with the next segment of the show now! Unfortunately, Ads here has informed me that I can't just sit around all day and talk about Inhaler forever. A right shame that, don’t you think?”

I huffed theatrically, whilst Adi merely shook her head at me in return, dark ringlets brushing the length of her shoulders as she mouthed the word 'prick' through the thick sheet of plexiglass that separated us.

Ignoring that loving endearment in favour of continuing on with the commentary, I hoped I hadn’t steered too far off track, there was still a lot scheduled for today's show that I had yet to go over.

“So moving on!” I sighed into the mic and rubbed my palms together, “It seems like quite a few of you lot, on Twitter especially, have made it loudly known that you want to hear my thoughts on Manchester’s very own Matthew Healy. God, is there yet another scandal under his belt I don’t yet know about, where’s he finding the time?”

I shook my head briefly and rolled forward in my seat. The wheels squeaked beneath my weight and I made a silent prayer that the mics hadn’t picked up the sound.

What a fucking topic, I thought quietly to myself and sent Adi a semi-amused smile before I peered down at the recent headline she had handed over to me earlier that morning.

It was the same old thing. Expected really at this point.

“Healy’s at it again! Whatever will we do?” I gasped, dramatising the whole thing as I stared down at the images of the haughty singer that were plastered across the printout I held in front of me.

There were four of them, a quick succession that had all seemingly come from a clip at a recent concert. Bit blurry but the title gave away to what was happening.

A laugh bubbled up out of me as soon as I read the headline. “Oh god, it appears Matty Healy is- just wait for it!- back at it again, only this time it seems he’s gone and traded off a drumstick for…” I paused to drum quite the anticipating beat against the tabletop, and as stoic as I could, I then added, “A joint!” And a smug grin made its way up onto my lips when I heard Adi’s faint cackle echo from just outside the booth.

“Honestly, I swear that everything this man does makes the rags! Reckon I saw an article about how he took his tea one time. And like, do me a favour, yeah? A man of the people though, in’t he? He’s got to be! I mean, just look at this headline. Fucking who the hell writes this shit?”

Tossers, I supposed. But even so.

“It’s madness.” I muttered, clucking my tongue, “But anyway, I’m guessing that most people claim him to be the epitome of a realtime rockstar, and sure, he might just be. 'Sex, drugs, rock & roll', all that shit. But how much longer is it going to last until everything goes tits up, hey?

“I mean, Healy can pretty much do whatever he wants at this point, he’s got half the world either falling at his feet or complaining about him- has done since he was what, a kid? Following his parents among the shadows of their fame before he stepped out and made an actual name for himself. It is insane to see how much he’s changed though!”

And it was. He and his band had risen to fame so evidently, their music was everywhere, they sold out shows constantly, and had the privilege to fly across the globe doing whatever they pleased. But they’d also practically grown up in the limelight, Matty especially. So it was hard not to notice the resounding changes.

“But, if I am being truthful. And when am I not? I thought that most of the shit that went around about him at first was a load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that. Or just him being an idiot, a lad who’s had to grow up with all these cameras on him all the time and had to basically learn what he can and can’t say in front of them. Slipping up from time to time, like most do. But, now? I’m honestly not too sure… It’s just a bit sad. In’t it? There was so much potential there.”

I shrugged, a hearty sigh falling with my shoulders.

“I actually used to quite like his stuff a couple years ago, he’s got a way with words, with just music overall really. Reckon if he’d gotten his shit together he could’ve been ranked higher up on the list of rockstars. Could’ve changed or paved a way for newer musicians. But not so much anymore. His songs lack the passion they once had, they’re not what they used to be. He works hard, I’ll give him that. But, I can’t help but wonder if it’s just his band pulling his dead weight along with them now.”

I took a slow breath, then gazed down at the small amount of sticky notes I had pinned to the monitor beside me: the next segment. I’d have to wrap this one up quickly.

“Maybe that’s a bit harsh.” I said, “But honestly, I just hope he takes an actual break sooner rather than later. The band looks spent and he just seems like he could do with some time away from all the cameras and prying eyes. Just so he can sort himself out good and proper, you know? Then again, that’s just my opinion among a sea of many.”

Truthfully? I really did think that Matty had talent, and he seemed like a sound enough guy- or at least he had done, a couple of years back, before all the controversy and whatever else. Now though, the guy just seemed so caught up in it all, in the fame, the tabloids, the drama. Unaware of just how far he’d fallen.

Me, I’d seen it one too many times before, with many of the greats even, and as painful as it was to watch, what more could I do, or say? I'm a nobody in comparison.

I blew out a short breath.

“Fuck, that got all serious didn’t it?” I tried to laugh off and only felt a little more at ease when I glanced up and caught Adi’s sincere smile, “Anyway, onto our next segment, reading a couple of your lots tweets! Let's see what everyone's saying about our amazing Adi today, hey? What was it last week, Ads- those yellow trousers you were wearing?”

“Oi, will you two stop mucking about, please? We’ve got to get going!” I scolded without any real heat, shaking my head as I held back chuckles, always amused by the infamous pair.

I’d not long left the studio, having walked with Adi to the nearby train station before heading over to Finn’s, and was currently packing away the belongings that had been messily upended from the Spiderman backpack I was often seen carrying about.

My gaze wandered over to the other side of the room once I’d teethed together the bag’s plastic zipper, over to where my son, Teddy, was currently in the midst of being whirled around by his godfather, tawny coloured curls flying in every-which direction as his cheeky grin grew even more prominent.

I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards as I watched my best mate laugh at whatever the toddler had just said, tickling the boy’s sides too. If I was feeling incredibly sappy, I’d tell Finn then just how thankful I was to have him around, because he truly was incredible.

From the moment I’d found out that I was pregnant, Finn had been there for me. He loved my son almost as though Teddy was his own, he adored the kid like no other and had placed him on a pedestal above everyone else since the day he was born.

Finn was always free to take teddy whenever I had the show to fret about too, or if I was ever in dire need of another helping hand. He was fiercely protective of the two of us and I knew in the very depths of my heart that there would never be a hair harmed on my son’s head as long as he was around.

I was pulled from my thoughts just as the toddler in question came bounding over, giggling uncontrollably as Finn chased after him, his arms stretched out wide and crouched down to mimic the small boy's height. I couldn't help but notice the matching grins they both wore.

“Help!” Teddy squealed as he flung himself into my awaiting arms, allowing me to wrap him up and settle him safely on my hip, using my frame as a shield to block him from Finn’s view.

"You can't hide from me Teds, I’ll always find you!" Finn taunted playfully, laughing merrily as he wiggled his fingers at Teddy, who was only just peeking out at him from over my shoulder.

Teddy squirmed in my grasp, giggling and screaming senselessly as he tried to dodge Finn’s oncoming hands that had since managed to softly graze his sides. I could only roll his eyes in fond exasperation, the pair never failing to brighten my day, and I couldn't help but feel ever so grateful for whatever being had brought Finn into both mine and Teddy’s lives.

You see, Finn was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother, let alone a best friend. He’d been the family I’d never known I’d needed, a home away from home. And I knew that I could always count on him for just about anything and he had proved that the day I’d turned up on his doorstep in the pissing rain one Tuesday night, utterly terrified after having just found out that I was pregnant.

“Alright, you lot!” I began, batting away one of Finn’s oncoming hands as he made to grab at Teddy's tiny ankle. “We've got to get home in time for your bath and tea, and I think Finn here has to pick up Liv from work.”

I was directing my voice towards the toddler in my arms but also sent a knowing look Finn’s way, one which caused the man’s eyes to widen in immediate realisation. ‘Liv’ was actually Olivia, Finn’s newest fling, only she had managed to last quite a while longer than the rest, a new record for him really.

“Shit, yeah.” Finn muttered before he hurried over to his desk in the far corner. I could only chuckle quietly, Teddy joining in too when he noticed, and watch on as he hastily started to grab at an array of items, shoving them into his jean pockets. Phone. Wallet. Keys.

When he was finished, Finn spun back around towards us and shot an accusing brow our way, not too pleased about having been the source of our amassment. Teddy and I couldn't help ourselves then and laughed a little harder at his impervious expression.

With that done and over with, I pressed my nose against the side of Teddy's head and smiled contently into his curls whilst Finn merely rolled his eyes at us, chuckling before he made a start for the door. I followed just behind, Teddy's backpack slung low over my shoulder and a happy little boy nestled in my arms.

***

People lover @/user1 Imagine being a mediocre radio host and thinking you know the ins and outs of the music industry.. #CancelMouse 102 @/user2 Don't mind me, reckon I just found my new favourite radio show:) Ugh! @/user3 Mouse sounded proper excited today but switched up so quick when that 75 bloke came up:// Soloveme @/user4 Hate to see people supporting toxic behaviour, sit down. Milk @/user5 Don’t hate me, I'll forever be a matty girlie!! But @Mouseonamic I kinda agree?? Paris @/user6 Do you think he’s seen it yet? > Too_shy @/user7 Probably, it’s trending rn >> Drummepls @/user8 Hope he’s okay and doesn’t take it as a personal attack..

He should’ve known really.

He should’ve fucking known.

Even in his drunken state he should have known not to look at what they were fucking saying about him. Slumped on the floor of his hotel room, propped up against the bathroom door, too exhausted to think about moving, let alone try.

He’d only heard a snippet, caught the last of it in the cab ride back from the club the band had found themselves in. But he had heard it, and he’d listened.

"He's got the whole world falling at his feet." He fucking wished. "Changed." Too right. "A load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that- but now I'm not too sure." Laughable, man. "It's just a bit sad." The story of his fucking life. "Potential." When’s he never not disappointing someone? "Lacks passion." Passion lies in living, mate, and he hasn't felt alive in a very long time.

"Not what it used to be." Who he used to be.

He lit another cigarette from a crumpled pack he’d pulled from his back pocket. Watched on as a curl of smoke unfurled in the air. He only wished he’d brought something upstairs with him, or grabbed one of the little bottles from the minibar before deciding he’d needed a piss. But if he closed his eyes hard enough he could imagine it all going dark, the world fading around him.

Though, even then he still couldn’t quite muffle the loud, pitying laugh that escaped him as he continued to scroll through the mass of tweets that never faltered. They were like a freight train, unable to stop.

Matty wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Never had he ever felt so fucking lost. Desperate for everything to just pause for a second. To stop and leave him alone for a bit. The world to let him wallow in the dark, dank pit he's hollowed out for himself.

But what a fucking life, hey.

Carelessly, he thumbed across the dimming screen, his intoxicated mind too focused on the task at hand to remember why exactly it was he was even sitting there on the cold bathroom floor. Something to do with Hann, he supposed, or George. Perhaps another heated encounter? Probably.

The sound of his phone's keyboard echoed off the surrounding walls and Matty breathed out a self-depreciating chuckle when he clicked send on the tweet he’d curated, not caring enough for the consequences. Hardly even thinking, in truth. He was far too gone to care anymore, already knew firsthand what the consequences would be tomorrow. But at that moment, he just wanted honesty. To tell the truth, for once. To let them all know that he knew he was a shit excuse for a person.

What more could the world possibly say anyway?

Everyone around him was the same. He was simply just a puppet on a string. They’d make him sing and dance until the day he finally wrapped those wired strings tightly around his neck, and then all they'd be able to do is sit back and watch the show. And he'd enjoy every unabating second of it.

Matty @/trumanblack 10s ago Radio shows are sick man, gotta love them! And I sort of am sad haha. And I do lie, we all lie, I spose. But just listen to the radio, kids!

He laughed silently after, amused with himself, and tossed the phone off somewhere off to the side so he wouldn’t have to look at it again.

Bullshit. It was all just fucking bullshit.

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year

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Dealing Feelings

Warnings: drug use, protected outdoor sex

I sighed, leaning back against the abandoned building that was falling apart way out in the marsh. It was forgotten just like everything else in OBX that didn't have money. Even the cops didn't give a shit about you unless you had money. The whole town was corrupt. It was hard to find good paying jobs without knowing the right people. But sometimes the right people were also the worst type of people. The whole town keeps you dependent on rich families by only giving you enough money to live but never enough to leave. They didn't want outsiders or people from the mainland to see how much weight was moved through OBX. Our little drug ruled town; filed with corrupt officials that prayed on the weak.

That's why I didn't feel bad feel bad for taking things here and there. Or indulging myself with the drugs I find. That's how I met JJ. We both worked for a charter company and we stumbled upon a massive amount of weed being smuggled through someone's yacht. Good thing most rich people aren't that smart. They never keep their shit hidden very well.

"It must be nice being a Kook. This shit is good." JJ exhales, his head resting against the stone wall as he lets his buzz sink in. I nodded in agreement, already feeling lighter. The tightness in my chest had subsided and I was feeling good. Too good.

I pulled out my phone, groaning when I remember I don't have any minutes and shoving it back in my pocket. I couldn't even get a decent fuck on this godforsaken island.

"I don't have any minutes on my phone." I grumble, letting my eyes fall closed as the tangy scent of weed washes over me. I listen to JJ take another hit before he responds.

"What do you need your phone for? We got everything we need. Except chips. I should've grabbed some chips." You both chuckle, also feeling slightly hungry. Something salty sounded killer.

"For a booty call. It's hard to get laid when you don't have a phone." I scoff, taking the joint as he passes it back.

"One of your Kook boyfriends doesn't cover that for you? That's shitty." In the time I'd known JJ, we'd both shared more personal and embarrassing shit with each other than I ever had with another person. He was the only one who knew about my terrible first time and I was the only one who knew about the time a girl threw up in his lap while giving him head. They were both drunk but still gross.

"We don't usually discuss finances, dude." I chuckle, handing the joint back. JJ takes it, tossing his hat down and stretching his legs out in front of him with a sigh.

"Could you imagine asking someone for money while they're balls deep inside you." JJ laughs, turning his lazy smile to you.

"Oh, oh, oh, don't stop. Oh, by the way, could you Venmo me $20." I fake moan, causing us both to erupt with laughter again.

"Start negotiating as you're hitting it from the back," JJ's face is beat red with laughter as he pretends to hold on to someone from behind, jutting his hips upwards as he fake moans, "Oh, uh, how about $15? I'll ask daddy for the rest." JJ jokes, letting his hands fall back down to his sides. We both laugh, breathing in the night air as the high settles deep in my body. I really was horny. It happened every time I smoked this expensive shit.

"God, if I had my vibrator I'd get myself off right here." I close my eyes as lean my head back against the stone, the throbbing in my clit in sync with my heartbeat was becoming distracting. A moment passes and I realize JJ has fallen silent, which is unusual for him. I blink open my eyes, turning to see that he's already watching me. His reddened eyes hooded and his lips slightly parted. I watch as his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, a pink tint reaching his cheeks.

"Use me." JJ rasps, his voice lower than normal. A jolt shoots down my spine, my pussy throbbing in agreement. "Use me to get yourself off."

"JJ." I chuckle but my smile quickly falls when I realize he's not kidding. My eyes fall to the massive tent in his shorts and I can't help the way my eyes widen. He was completely serious. He was turned on too.

“Be for real.” I try to keep my voice even but even my voice threatened to shake with how turned on I was.

“I am. We both know where the others been. We’re friends. Just use me like your booty call. No strings.”

My spine stiffens as I take a moment to take in just how genuinely handsome he was. Some Pogue guys came off as dirty, like surfing all day was their idea of a shower, but he didn’t. I especially liked that dimple that poked through whenever he smiled big. JJ was awfully cute. And packin by the bulge in his shorts.

“Or not. Just thought I’d offer. I’m horny too so I get it.” JJ gives a half hearted laugh, shrugging his shoulders despite feeling mildly insecure by my silence. The weed is smoked expect for the shit he plans to sell so there’s nothing to do but look at each other.

“Do you have a condom?” I finally ask, my heart racing in my chest while the throb between my legs only intensified.

His eyes light up. “Yea.”

“Good.” I lean over and kiss him without a second thought. JJ groans into my mouth, immediately pulling me onto his lap and gripping my ass. I tug back in his hair, devouring his mouth as eagerly as he is mine. The butterflies in my stomach swarm, filling me with heat until I shamelessly start to grind against his clothed erection.

“Fuck.” JJ growls as I break away to pull his cutoff over his head. I’d seen him shirtless plenty of times but this was the first time I’d been able to admire him while touching him. I let my hands roam down his chest and over his abs, loving the way they flex under my finger tips. I look back up to see him smirking as I pop the button on his shorts.

“Like what you see?” He teases, leaning in for another kiss but I evade him.

“Don’t get cocky.” I flirt, lifting up to slip my hand inside his boxers. I try to mask my surprise by what I wrap my hand around but by the smug smirk on his face, I know I’ve failed. He was huge. Probably the biggest I’d ever had. I could barely wrap my hand around his girth as I gently stroked him. JJ shudders, his eyes hooded and filled with lust as he looks at me.

“Usually my hook ups and I have a conversation about what we like beforehand. A little foreplay. Some sexting.” I rasp, hooking my fingers in his shorts as he lifts his hips to let me slide them down.

“Yea? What do you like?” JJ’s voice is thick with need as he watches me lean down and spit on his thick mushroom head. I watch it roll down his shaft before I wrap my hand around him again to lube him up.

“I like my nipples messed with. I like my hair pulled. I like to be choked as I cum. I like doggie but cowgirl is good too.” I lean forward to press a kiss to his Adam’s apple, loving the way I feel him release a shaky breath as my lips graze his skin while I continue to pump him.

“Really?” JJ chokes out, letting his hand slide under my shirt and tugging on one of my nipples. He sucks in a breath when he finds the bar through it for my piercing.

“I like sucking dick too.” I murmur against his lips, a growl rumbling through his chest a moment later.

“Stop or I’ll cum in your fucking hand.” JJ bites out, snatching my wrist and yanking me closer so he can claim my mouth again. His mouth is greedier now, his hand winding through my hair as he fucks my mouth with his tongue. I was already on the edge. Much more foreplay and I’d cum in his lap without ever being touched.

I pull away when I’m breathless, quickly standing to slip my shorts and panties off as he slips a condom on before straddling his lap again. His nervous eyes find mine again and I cup his face, his hands loosely on my hips.

“Dude, chill. It’s just me. You’ve had sex with plenty of girls.” I tease, kissing him gently.

“Yea but none of them on the level I know you. I barely know their names and I-I know you.” I bury my face in his neck, kissing his sweet spot that has his hands squeezing my hips tightly, his rings digging into my skin.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No. I just.. don’t want things to be weird.”

“It won’t. I promise. We will still be friends after this.” I reassure, wrapping my hand around his cock and guiding him to my entrance. I jerk when the head nudges my clit, my free hand digging into his shoulder.

“Wait. I should finger you first.” JJ says, alarm in his voice. I stop.

“Feel how wet I am, J.” I whisper, guiding his hand between my legs and loving the way his eyes fall closed as he runs his fingers through my slick folds.

“Fuck. That’s for me?” JJ rasps, the neediness in his voice almost too much to bare.

“Yes.” I kiss him again, his hand taking over for mine as he guides himself inside me. I hiss at the intrusion, lifting myself up higher before trying to slide down further.

“Fuck.” We both bite out, the tight fit enough to take both our breath away. I roll my hips back and forth trying to stretch myself out. There was no way I was stopping now.

“God, how do you walk around with this thing?” I hiss, sinking down another few inches. He gives a weak smile before spitting in his hand and rubbing it on my clit and down his shaft. The extra lube makes it easier and I’m finally able to fully seat myself. I’m so full it aches. Like he’s going to come out my throat. I can’t help but whimper as I try to grind back and forth. His muscles were drawn tight and his jaw clenched as he let me get myself ready.

“You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.” JJ bites out, digging his fingers into the swells of my ass before reaching for the hem of my shirt and yanking it over my head. I make quick work of my bra then his mouth finds my nipples. I keen, my back arching to meet his mouth and I feel his cock throb inside me.

“I love these.” JJ mumbles around my nipple in his mouth, greedily taking turns with each one as I start to move up and down slowly. There was no longer any pain, just the promise of how good it would feel when I cum with this thing inside me. Toys didn’t compare to this.

JJ grabs my tits with both hands, squeezing hard while rubbing circles along my nipples with his thumbs as I start to bounce.

“Oh, shit.” I pant, sweat already dripping down my spine as I move faster.

“I’m close already.” JJ groans, grabbing my hips to slow my movements.

“So am I.” I cry, my knees sore from the hard ground but I was too close to care.

“Stand up and bend over.” JJ demands, making me whine in protest as he lifts me off and gets to his feet, shorts still around his ankles before pulling me against him and spinning me around. I brace my hand hands against the stone building, bending at the waist and sticking my ass out for him.

“Tell me.. what you like.” I moan just as he fills me up deeply again.

“You wanna know?” JJ growls, cupping my neck and pulling me upright so he can reach my ear.

“Yes.” I pant, his hard body slapping against my ass over and over again.

“I like you.” He grunts into my ear, “I like these tits. I like the way you’re squeezing the life out of me. I like when you pull my hair. I like seeing your eyes roll as you start to cum.” My body explodes, his grip tightening on my throat as I cum harder than I ever had in my life. My pussy clenches around him so hard it almost hurts, stars spotting my vision until his grip loosens on my throat.

“God, what I wouldn’t give to feel you bare.” JJ rasps, his body shuddering against mine as he cums before going limp against me, our bodies sagging against the stone.

“Jesus.” I groan as he slips from me, his hands staying on my waist as I sway.

“That was—.”

“—intense.” I couldn’t shake the overwhelming awkward feeling that was consuming me. Now that the affects of the orgasm were fading and my buzz was definitely gone.. my head was starting to clear. I just fucked JJ Maybank. The closest thing I had to a best friend.

I don’t realize I’m still naked and he’s fully clothed until he turns me.

“Don’t make it weird, right? Just sex.” He says with a small smile, handing me my bra and shirt. No hook up had ever helped me get dressed. I tried to mask my expression, my heart beating a mile a minute in my chest. A sudden realization hits me as I smile at him.

JJ Maybank wasn’t just a hook up.

“Just sex.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx2 #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #rudy pankow #jj obx #outer banks x reader #jj maybank

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netherfeildren · 1 year

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FEAR OF GOD : Chapter II : Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Content Warnings: Angst, possessive behavior, unprotected sex (there are no condoms in the apocalypse, only vibes), oral sex (f!receiving), squirting, brief non-graphic descriptions of medical procedures / illness, brief discussion of avoiding meals (no reference to any sort of ED), stupid! Joel ™️

Summary: Joel gets a little stupid and a little jealous.

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: I wanted to mention that that I've altered the timeline a smidge to benefit my own whims. So the Joel we find here is about 50-51 and our reader is in her mid to late 20's (cw: age gap 🤓) Everything else in the timeline is the same up until Joel and Ellie return to Jackson.

Another thing, I hella make shit up in this chapter. I talk about a surgical device and there’s discussions of like mechanical/electrical engineering? which I know fuck all about. So if it reads as nonsense I sincerely apologize. There’s a fair bit of character/world building in this ch. so I hope you all can bear with me for a smidge. There is the gift of porn at the end though >:)

Chapter title is from Anne Carson’s Autobiography of Red (my favorite book in the whole world which everyone should read). Art is Intimacy by Angelica Alzona

Word count: a whopping 9.6k (I'm so sorry 😭)

Read on AO3

CHAPTER II: Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company

What it looked like?

Like fucking the forest for once birdless, beastless.

Like measuring the distance between all that’s lost

and everything else that, even now, waved at

hard enough sometimes,

will sometimes wave back.

But it felt like swallowing the sea–

being forced to, ships and all.

Then a silence as vast as it was particular.

The like holding a mirror up to Apollo

and expecting his face there, when Apollo’s always been

faceless, obviously, being a god.

And the hand still holding the mirror up anyway.

And the face not showing.

-Carl Phillips, Star Map with Action Figures

“I mean, yeah, I’d fuckin’ like to think so. I’m not sure. She told me –”

“Ellie, you’re overthinking the hell out of it.”

“I am not,” she grumbles.

“You’re a dumbass,” you deadpan.

That riles her up. “Me?! You!”

“What’ve I done? It’s pretty obvious what’s happening here – Dina wants you to ask her out – you’re too chicken shit to step up.”

“Okay, genius. Y’don’t know what you’re talking about, first of all.” The sass on this girl, honestly. The two of you sit together at the picnic tables that’d been set out in the town center for the monthly barbecue. “You think you’re so damn smart. Well lemme just ask you this, what’s going on with Joel? You two’ve been weird as fuck lately.” That shuts you up quick.

“Don’t even start with that. The answer is nothing.”

She gives you that knowing look of hers, but let’s it go. Silently says: I know this hurts, so I won’t push. Out loud: “You started it, motherfucker.” You yank on her bangs, and she swats you away. “Maybe I should call you a fatherfucker instead,” she cackles.

“Oh my god, I actually hate you.” You try and swat her back, yank on her bangs again.

“What’re you two schemin’ about?” Joel’s voice comes from behind you.

“Speak’a the devil,” she says under her breath, starting to gather up her empty plate.“Nothing–” She shoots up, and brushes past, “Gotta go. We’ll talk later,” not even sparing him a glance. You look between the two of them wishing there was anything you could do to help them bridge this cold distance between them. She turns before walking off, gives you the finger behind his back.

“Ellie, hold on a sec,” you call after her, but she’s off.

“It’s fine,” Joel says. “Leave it.”

“I’m sorry,” shielding your eyes from the bright sun, you look up into his serious face.

He shakes his head. “Nothin’ for you to be sorry about. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” And that stings. Off-handedly as it’s said, it stings that he thinks their rift doesn’t affect you, make you hurt for the two of them.

How could he ever think that after everything he’d told you about Sarah – a night that’d made you feel closer to him than ever before, while you two lay in bed, still damp and trembling – that you’d not worry about his relationship now with Ellie? Who you knew he loved like a daughter, even if he was incapable of saying it out loud. How could he think it had nothing to do with you now? After what he’d told you about himself in the aftermath of Sarah. That moment, his confession, could sustain you for a lifetime of this push and pull if necessary. With trust like that, what else mattered? Very little, you thought.

“You get everything done you needed to?” he threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck, and bends to press a soft kiss to your temple.

You sigh, basking in this small tenderness he offers you after his casual hurt. “Yeah, we finished.” Sometimes you wonder if there’s something wrong with you, taking all this in stride. Luxuriating in his offerings of tenderness and vulnerability one second, swallowing the way he casually brushes you off another. Surely there must be something wrong with you. Especially because, when it comes down to it, you don’t really care as much as you think you should .

“How’d it go?” You’d had to debride some areas from Mr. Schwartz’s diabetic foot this morning – super fun for the both of you . The foot was famous in Jackson. A great source of shrieks and giggles when the old man decided to pull it out in front of the kids as his so-called ‘party trick’. We all gotta bring something fun to the table, honey, he’d tell you when you tried to put on your false tone of admonishment with him.

“Long – I had to take more than I’d initially thought I’d need to.”

“He alright?”

“Resting now… Just means it’ll be harder for him later on – take longer to recover, as best he can, in any case. And ideally, what he really needs is a boot – which we have – one… but it’s not in great condition. I don’t even know if it’ll fit him – or a wheelchair, and both of them are being used right now. So, seems my only other option is to order him into bed until I can figure something else out. And of course Connie’s all, this is on you, honey. I trust your judgment, honey. ” You deepen your tone and scrunch your brow trying to inflect Connie’s baritone. “As if that’s helpful.”

He grips your chin, forcing you to take a breath, brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, and your eyes flutter shut, pressing a tiny kiss to the pad of his thumb. He hums a little, and you catch the flare of heat in his eyes. “You’ll worry yourself half to death, little bird. Take a breath.” You huff a small laugh. He was right about that, worry was heavy on your mind recently. About lots of different things.

“I fixed you a plate,” you divert.

“You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart. Thank you.” He swings his long leg over the bench to sit astride it, legs open to pull you between his thighs.

“S’alright. I was getting Connie’s anyway.” He digs in, and you card your fingers through his thick hair – overly long now, it brushes the collar of his shirt in the back, you’ll need to cut it for him soon – and watch the thick column of his throat ripple as he swallows. You press your thighs together – the sun is so strong today. You think it might be making you a little delirious.

“You’re not eating.” It isn’t a question, posed more like an admonishment, paired with the severe crook of his brow.

“Nah, I’m alright. Can’t have anything just yet after staring at that foot all morning,” you joke.

“You telling me you’re not as entertained by it as the kids are?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Shocking, I know.”

He turns to give you an assessing glance now, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Just tired.” You lay your head in the cool, dark crook of his neck, breathe him in. “Birdie …” voice laced with concern – he tries to gently tug you back by your ponytail, but you burrow in further – press your lips to the pulsing vein in his neck. “I’m fine, Joel. Just tired, really.” He huffs. Grouchy man.

“Hi, honey,” Connie shuffles up to the table. “Joel–” he nods, “You two alright ? That go a long time with Mr. Shwartz?” he asks.

You’re grateful for the distraction from Joel’s fifth degree. “It was fine. Our handy dandy Bovie is so good.” You’d done your best recently to fashion an electrocautery device, like the ones they’d used before in surgery. The two of you had gathered the different parts over time and much voracious scavenging, to put the system together. “You’ve gotta try it next. We should be real proud of that.”

“You should be proud. You’ve got a nice mechanical mind in you, as well. You know, Joel, the body is just a machine of flesh and blood.” Connie turns his blue eyes, gone slightly milky now, on Joel, ready to impart his slice of wisdom – part lecture, part proud tirade for your benefit, as the younger man continues to work through his plate of barbecue. “She looks at the two the same way; it’s very impressive.”

Joel finishes chewing: “Our girl is nothin’ if not impressive,” he says, giving you an impish little smirk. You pinch the inside of his thigh over the thick denim, not imparting nearly enough punishment as you’d like to.

“Shut up,” you grouch at him. “Anyways, the lines were pretty sharp, the cauterization clean. A bit slow, though. I felt a bit held back – but not too bad, considering.”

“Considering…” Connie muses. He starts to eat as well, and the sight of the slick, sauce covered meat is slightly revolting. The sun is way too hot with the change of season into fall just on the cusp, and after staring at poor Mr. Schwartz’s mangled foot all day… “I’m thinking with a little more juice it’ll be perfect. We just have to find a way to feed it more power without frying the whole system.”

“Yes… it’s delicate,” he says slowly.”You should ask Noah for advice.” Joel is silent beside you, but you feel the tensing of his thigh beneath your palm at the mention of Noah’s name. “He’s always been very keen to help us in any way we need.”

“Oh, has he?” Joel drawls, in that monotone he loves to use when cutting people down. He can’t fucking stand Noah; it’s quite funny to you, actually. You nudge his knee with your own, still cradled between his spread legs, and drag your nails slowly up and down his thigh, only responding with a non-committal hum. He shifts his jaw in that way he’s wont to do when he’s especially aggravated, cocks his eyebrow at you. You give him a tiny little mocking tilt of your head. You’re sure he can see the laughter at his expense in your eyes.

“Yes,” Connie continues, completely oblivious to the silent conversation going on between the two of you, “He’s very adept at anything electrical or mechanical. Although, you are, as well, Joel. Perhaps you could advise us too. Any help would be greatly appreciated.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I can take a look. Offer what I can.”

You change the subject: “Teddy’s been in again this week.” One of the single mother’s in Jackson, Susanna’s son, Teddy, had been continuously ill the past few months. Coming down with different, seemingly unrelated afflictions on and off. His mother was beside herself with worry, and you and Connie were reaching your limits on what you could do to help him. Much less actually provide a clear answer as to a diagnosis.

“Yes, I spoke to his mother last night. Some sort of ague again, undoubtedly.”

You roll your eyes at him affectionately. Connie loved to condemn undiagnosable patients with ‘the ague’. “Connie, the ague is absolutely not a valid form of diagnosis,” you laugh. That launches him into a tirade about the conundrum the boys posed to the both of you these past few weeks. And ague is a perfectly valid explanation, honey. Neither of you are certain what’s causing his bouts of illness. Though you’re reluctantly leaning towards something that won’t pose anything good for any of you; you’re trying to remain optimistic, but the uncertainty is taking a toll on the both of you, as well as his mother.

As Connie goes on, there’s a hazy buzz rumbling around in your brain. Your temples throb, and you press the tender spot into the hard mass of Joel’s shoulder. He’s finished eating now, and you nuzzle into him, breathe in the warm scent of his skin and sweat, grip the hard swell of his bicep – the thick muscle has the most inappropriate arousal pooling low in your belly, but your stomach churns at the same time, and the sun is so damn bright. Too many opposing sensations going on within you all at once, you’re sure you’re on the verge of sun poisoning – dramatic – and it’s making you needy. Infecting you with ideas of crawling into his lap and having him cradle you. He stiffens beneath your attentions suddenly. The soothing large palm he’d been dragging up and down your spine goes still, pausing with his fingertips tucked just below the waistband of your jeans – as if he’s just now realizing how openly affectionate the two of you are being – his muscles go rigid at your display, and then that’s it. He’s pulling away.

Your gut twists again, your head is really spinning now – you straighten in your seat, scoot back and out of the cradle of his thighs, as far as the bench allows you. Always fucking pulling away. He’s stiff and uncomfortable, but at your retreat he clicks his tongue at you, frowns a little, and you want to snap at his subtle admonishment – you started it, what are you frowning at me for?

Connie is still going on about Teddy. “You sure you’re alright, dear?” he interrupts himself. “You look a bit peaky.”

“I’m fine.” You stand abruptly, “I’ve got to head back, actually.” Joel turns to reach for you, but you step back and away from his fingers. The heat is definitely making you grouchy, sick; you’re not acting yourself. “I promised Mr. Schwartz I’d be back to check on him within the hour.” You don’t want to look at Joel anymore – you’re used to his sudden bouts of tension – discomfort – but something is setting you on edge today.

“You should eat something before you go, honey,” Connie says – looking up at you with concern.

“I had something before I came. I’m okay.” You turn to look at Joel now, as the lie passes your lips, a provocation held in your eyes and tone.

He frowns, “You said –”

“I’ll see you two later.”

“Birdie –” But you’ve turned from him before he can continue, walking away quickly. Your head is spinning, gut cramping and turning over on itself. The sun feels like it’s two feet away from you, bearing down on the crown of your head, and you know you’re about to be sick. Always fucking pulling away, always. It embarrasses you a little that you still chafe at it, the back of your eyes pinching and saliva pooling heavy on your tongue. You know the way he is.

You make it back to the clinic just in time to vomit behind the bushes on the side of the house.

Jesus.

Susanna brings Teddy into the clinic late in the evening. You’ve just finished writing up your operative note for the ‘famous foot’ (Mr. Schwartz’s words, not yours) when she flies in, frantic, with the listless child in her arms. She tells you he’d been lethargic and without an appetite all day, but she’d chalked it up to fatigue and melancholy from being ill and bedridden so often, recently. His fever had crept up out of nowhere, and now Teddy was almost unconscious, burning hot and delirious – words slurring, eyes glassy.

It’d been hours since then. Teddy was now resting quietly with cool compresses and ice bags tucked under his arms and against his neck which seemed to be helping. Susanna had retired to the back of the house to rest for a bit, and you now sat between Mr. Schwartz and the boy, quietly reading over a text both you and Connie had already gone over multiple times – hoping to find anything that’d inspire an explanation. Most concerningly of all, you’d noticed a smattering of purple-yellowish, sickly looking bruises along Teddy’s spine. It pushed you in the direction your mind had previously taken concerning what could potentially be the cause of all of this. And even though it was the first you’d seen of any bruising on him, it didn’t reassure you at all.

“Joel’s here,” Nancy, the nurse that worked with you and Connie, says quietly from the doorway. You stand from your bedside vigil, sighing. It’s late, and you don’t want to do this now. A little embarrassed from your earlier fit. A lot tired from the long day and throwing up and the heat.

“Can you come out and get me in two minutes, please? Interrupt us.”

She gives you an assessing look. “Sure.”

You walk out to the office to find him leaning against your cluttered desk, bulging arms crossed against his chest, straining the sleeves of his button down. There’s a far off look in his eyes, scowl marring his brow, but when he looks up at you all the tightness in his countenance seems to melt away at the sight of you. “You alright?” His gaze is assessing – sweeping up and down your frame, taking everything in like always. The man sees entirely too much.

“I’m fine. I need to stay here tonight, though.” You jerk your thumb back towards the exam room. “They need me.”

“You said you were tired.”

“It passed – just the sun.” He looks at you like he doesn’t really believe you.

“About earlier—”

“It’s fine, Joel.” You feel too tired, too strung out, to give him an out by pretending to ignore that he’d hurt you, pissed you off. Let it be what it was – you had a sick child to care for – couldn’t think about all the distance that would seemingly exist forever between the two of you, not right now, at least.

“You lied about eating.”

Oh, now he wanted to be fucking honest. You roll your eyes at him, watch his jaw clench. “What?” Tone bratty and antagonistic, “No I didn’t – you misunderstood.”

“You told me you didn’t want to eat, and then you told Connie, not fifteen minutes later, that you’d already eaten.”

“Well then I misspoke – that’s not what I meant.” You turn away from him towards the desk, busy your hands with the papers littered across its surface to avoid his eyes. You feel like fighting – like baring your teeth at him, and you hate it. You don’t want to fight with him, ever. You want, need, things to be okay between the two of you. “Why are we arguing about this? I have to get back.” The bite in your voice startles you for a second, and your hands pause their shuffling. Turning back to face him, wide eyed and shocked at the way you practically spit the words at him, but, fuck it, you decide to just go with it.

He doesn’t let you, though – doesn’t take your bait. You watch the muscle in his jaw feather rapidly as he grinds his teeth, fists curled into knots at his sides like he’s trying to restrain himself from throttling you – and you think you’d kind of like him to do it. You’ve gotta be PMSing or something because where is all this sudden desire for violence coming from? You definitely need to sleep soon.

He exhales a slow breath through his nose. “Not try’na argue, baby… just figure out what’s wrong.” Your heart twists painfully, the back of your eyes pinching and hot, and you will not cry right now. His words make you even more angry because if he cares so much about such seemingly small things like this, why can’t he just let everything else fall into place between you as well?

Nancy pops her head through the open door, calling your name, “Need you when you’ve got a second.”

“Be right there, Nance.” You throw her a grateful look.

Turning back to Joel you rub your forehead, trying to press the ache that’s taking root in your brain out with your fingertips. “Nothing… nothing’s wrong. I’m just…” you sigh, suddenly very sad, very tired. You take in his weathered face, his brow pulled down into a scowl anyone who knew him less would take for anger, but you see it for what it is: concern, discomfort, frustration at the tension that’s held constant between the two of you all day. The both of you pulling away and then yanking each other back. You can see he wants to move past this, avoid whatever fight is brewing – too much for him to handle. You know he hates it when you’re angry and annoyed with him, and doesn’t that have to mean something? Please, please it must mean something more. But you’re too tired for this now, your body overwrought from its brief bout of sickness earlier, from your long day. You’d like to go to bed with him and not wake up for a year. Lay on his chest and feel the movement of his breathing rock you to sleep, count the spaces between his ribs, make a home for yourself within them. A great jealousy for his heart, the organ itself, writhes in you, that it gets to live inside him. You’re feeling melancholy and exhausted and overly emotional . Sad that even when he’s the source of your turmoil, your hurt, he’s still the only one you want to go to for comfort. You clear your throat, “I’m fine, Joel. Really.” You try and give him a small smile. “I was in a mood earlier, but I’m okay now.”

“I need us to be okay, Birdie. I– I know…” he looks away, hisses through his teeth in frustration. “I know I don’t always act like it, but–”

You hold up a hand to stop him. You don’t want to, can’t, listen to him try and make excuses. Explain to you things you’ve always understood about what this thing is between the two of you. “We don’t need to do this. I promise everything’s fine. I need to get back.” You step forward to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, to appease the both of you, but also if only because you can’t help but touch him when he’s near, hands snaking up his belly and chest to fist in the collar of his shirt. He hums low in his throat and grips the back of your neck, other hand low on your back to press you to him, and everything inside you goes liquid hot and wanting, just at the feel of him, the scent of him.

“Try and rest.” He breathes you in at the crown of your head, and you nod against his chest.

“I will. Don’t worry.” But you know he’ll do that anyways, and that alone is a comfort.

Connie meanders in about midnight, nocturnal creature that he is, to check on you all. You’d pulled the armchair from the office into the corner of the infirmary while you read in the corner. An all night vigil wasn’t exactly necessary – Teddy’s fever had broken about an hour ago, his vitals were stable, and Mr. Schwartz had been snoring the night away for hours. Nancy lived on the second floor of the house, and was always near and available if necessary, but you were peaceful here. Tucked away in your corner with your book and a throw draped over your folded knees. The anxiety you’d carried heavy in your belly all day had dissipated. Thoughts of Joel settled now, compared to the frenzied hysterical swarm they’d been all day. Sometimes this need for him scared you. That your mood, your physical self, could so easily be altered by him, by his own mood, his words, his touch. The tether he held you by was so strong, it felt unbreakable, permanent. It scared you to think what would become of you if one day he decided to break it.

Connie passes a hand over the boy’s forehead, murmuring to himself as he examines him, pops his stethoscope in to take a listen. His movements are slow and practiced, methodical. You’d always loved watching him work. You’ve passed so far into the realms of exhaustion, you’re a little delirious now, your mind and vision hazy, and you rest your head against the wingback and watch. “He’s settled now. Vitals are steady.” You hum in agreement.

He turns to look at you then, his gaze contemplative as he takes a seat on the bench along the end of the bed directly in front of you. His tired groan makes you smile a little, old man. The fondness for him squeezes your heart. He has something to say, you can tell. “I know your father was an exacting man,” he starts. You nod, still quiet. You know that now is a time for listening. “I think of him often. I know I never met him, but he wanders into my mind quite frequently. I think of the things you’ve told me about him, about your mother and sister–” When you’d first become close, it’d been hard for you to speak of your family, of Beth and her death, but eventually you’d forced yourself to. For no other reason than that the thought of you being the only person left in the world that remembered their names, that knew their stories, wrought a grief in you so profound, it was impossible to keep it all inside. You were scared if you didn’t share, if you carried all that alone, you’d lose yourself in their memories forever. “I think that after all that, after living their deaths in such a gruesome way, it could have been very easy for you to lose yourself in all that. Do you agree?” Another small tilt of your chin. The precision with which he’d always read you, understood you, was the greatest comfort in the world. That sometimes it wasn’t even necessary to tell him out loud what it was you were feeling or needed for him to pick up on it.

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” you finally say.

“No…” his eyes take on the thoughtful look he gets, the one that makes you wish you could read his mind sometimes, read the wonderings of that brilliant mind like one of your textbooks. “Instead, you became a splendid and thoughtful physician. A seemingly impossible thing, no? Now, with the state of the world for you to have pieced together a vocation such as this…” his milky blue eyes glint with humor, pride, “Well, it’s all very impressive, my dear.”

“Thank you,” you acknowledge.

“And even more impressive, considering the fact, that had you been given a choice in the matter, you would never have chosen this for yourself… had the world been different, normal.” And there it is again, that keen sense of knowing.

“Yes.” There is nothing more to say. It is, after all, your most painful, most honest, most shameful truth. Painful, not in the sense that you carried any regret now, when you cared for your patients, when you put the knowledge your father and Connie had given you into practice. But painful in the sense that it chafed at your skin, that desire for other . That small seed that had the great potential of growth within you, to spread like ivy around a house, and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until all you were left with were thoughts of what could have been.

“But like I said… your father was an exacting man, and this is what he chose for you. And then, perhaps, even I played a part in that same theft of choice from you.” You try to interrupt him then, to vehemently deny it, but he continues unheeded. “You got here and you seemed to be a sort of benediction to me. A vessel for all the knowledge I could impart on you. A shepherd I could leave this flock to.” He slips his glasses off the bridge of his nose and wipes them slowly with the hem of his sweater. “I know you’ll take good care of them when I’m no longer here. That they could not have ended up in better, more caring hands.” You hate when he talks about his dying, fills you with a premonitory dread you don’t know how you’ll cope with when it becomes actuality. “But alas, you did what was set upon you, took it all in stride.” He pauses, as if contemplating what he’s about to say next, and you know the point of all this has arrived. You even know where it is he’s going with this.

“I say all this, my dear, not to dredge up old painful memories, or reminders of what could have been… But because I would not like to see your choices taken from you once again.” And there it is. He levels his gaze at you, quiet for several moments, and it’s like he is here in the room with you now, his presence, his unsaid name heavy and poignant.

“Joel’s a good man, honey, but he’s a hurt man. Hurt in a way I don’t think even you could cure.”

Your instinct to defend him is immediate. “He’s not— he’s not a hurt man.” You shake your head, brow furrowed, “He’s been hurt before, but it doesn’t define him, Connie. It’s not the sole contributor to who he is.” And that’s true, you know it is. Believe it to your very core. You, who knows Joel better than few others, you know the pains of his past don’t define him. Perhaps before, they did. A pain so acute it molded him into a creature focused only on survival, or perhaps, he let it get the better of him at times. But he is so much more than all that. Has the strength and the will to set it aside when he so chooses to. Ellie being the perfect example of that.

Choices, choices, those were the things that defined a person.

“Isn’t it? You can’t live off the potential you see in someone forever.”

“I hate it when you say that.” You sit up, let your feet drop to the floor, and lean forward to stress your point. “What are we all, if not vessels of untapped potential? We’re all just walking around with the possibility of something more inside of us. Of course, of course I value the potential I see in him! I know he has the possibility of so, so much inside of him – that’s what makes me… That’s why I –” You cut yourself off before you can make that confession, a choked sound leaving your throat. You look out the nearby window at the dark street, press your thumb hard into the center of your forehead, will the tension and frustration out of the skin and bone.

“I know… I know,” he says gently, offering you his hands, palms up – a sign of concession. “But it’s not enough to hang all your hopes and dreams on just that. I want more for you than just that . I want you to have choices. To be able to have what you truly want, what you truly need. I would not like to know that something unfulfilling has been forced upon you once again by the circumstances of this world.” And he says it so sadly, with a look of such tenderness in his eyes, it makes embarrassment burn hot and red in your cheeks. The back of your eyes pinch. What must they all think of me when they see us together? The part that perhaps does, or should, make you the most embarrassed, is that you don’t really care at all. Not in any substantial way that would make a real difference, make you act differently. “I’m not unfulfilled, Connie. I love what we do here,” you say softly.

“I know that, I know. But still…I just–”

You rest your aching head in your cupped palms, bent elbows propped on your knees. You’re so fucking tired. “Connie, please, I know…” you whisper. “Just, please, no more tonight… I’m exhausted. You can tell me all this another time – tomorrow. Just no more tonight.”

“Alright, alright, dear. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to give you grief.” He stands, comes towards you to rest a gentle palm on your shoulder.

“I know… and you’re not… It’s me.”

“I only want good things for you, darling girl.” You press your hand over his on your shoulder, give a short nod.

“Go home – you need rest. Nancy will stay with them.”

“I can sit for a few more hours. Teddy likes to know I’m here.”

“No, no,” his voice takes on that stern fatherly tone he likes to whip you into shape with sometimes. “Enough for tonight. They’ll both be fine. You’ll see them tomorrow.”

You scrunch your nose at him, “Bossy.” But you stand to go, draping the blanket over the back of the chair. He pulls you in for a hug then, envelops you in the comfort and steadiness he’s always offered you, from the very start. He always smells faintly of peppermint and mothballs and old paper. “It’ll all work itself out, my dear. You’ll find a way. You always do. I’m not worried about that.”

Joel watches you leave the clinic from his spot in the shadows across the road. He’s been posted here, obstinate and pissed off with himself, for hours. Especially because he’s certain this must be a new low for him, sulking in the dark, watching for you like a creep. But he just wanted to be close to you. He knows you lied to put him off earlier. Your conversation had left him unsatisfied, restless. He knows you’re pulling away because he’s pulling away. Because he’s putting you off, and he tells himself he’ll give you space, tells himself that’s what’s best, but knows it’s a lie as he thinks it.

The thing is, despite his obstinance, Joel was not a man who lacked self awareness. He was, in fact, very good at recognizing a thing within himself, and yet still able to make a conscious decision to feign ignorance towards it to the outside world. This set up worked well for him – sometimes … on occasion… But this was different, and he knew it. Feigning ignorance would not work between the two of you for much longer. You were getting tired and sad and frustrated with him and he could see it and hated himself for being the cause of it. And if he was being honest with himself, which in this moment, he was trying to be, he was getting tired of it too, tired of himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in this position with a woman. On the verge of … something. Something he couldn’t confess, even to himself, yet. But to allow himself that, to allow himself the simple act of even admitting what he knew was the truth of his feelings for you – there was a part of him, a very broken part that had not been used in a long, long time, that couldn’t even imagine it. To allow himself that sort of vulnerability. To allow himself the truth of there existing another person in this world, in what this world had become, a partner – a woman he cared for, needed . It was too vulnerable, too precious a thing to allow himself. Perhaps before, perhaps in a world not overrun by death and disease and violence – by loss.

But what did that even look like anymore? A world bereft of monstrousness? Wiped clean of the beasts that had overtaken it, human or infected. Could Joel even remember such a thing – even imagine it, if only in his dreams? He couldn’t even discern which of the two was worse anymore. Part of him knew it didn’t really matter. Not in the end. It was all conjecture when it came down to losing your life – losing the person you loved. Whether it was fungus or a bullet – dead was dead.

Sometimes he didn't even feel like a person anymore. Just this thing that existed at the periphery of the world. In the moments when he pushed you away, when he turned from the loving look in your face, forced himself to brush off your words and your affection, to hold you at arms length – to protect the vulnerable, scarred mass of his heart – those were the moments in which he was most like a creature, least like a man.

He thought of a world where he felt safe enough to go to the woman he loved, his Birdie, hold you in his arms and say: here is everything I have for you, I’m begging you, please take it .

Such a world didn’t exist in Joel’s mind. Couldn’t fit. He’d been stripped of the ability. To have something so vulnerable and new. A type of fragile he’d not held since his twelve year old daughter lay bleeding and broken in his arms, and have the ability to say I am strong enough to endure the possible loss of this. I need you this badly. So badly I am willing to risk even my own heart.

It looked like trying to swallow the sea.

He follows you home in the darkness.

“You get that fixed alright?” Joel’s voice barks from the mouth of the garage. You startle, your knee slamming into the underside of the workbench. Deciding to follow through on Connie’s suggestion from yesterday, you’d come to see Noah, knocking on his door bright and early this morning, Bovie clutched in your hands. He’d been more than happy to give it a look for you. The two of you had been sitting here for about an hour now, and in that time you’d seen Joel’s form stalk by at least three times, from out of the corner of your eye. Absurd man that he was, you knew he’d been psyching himself up to barge in here and interrupt the two of you. Seemed he’d brought his attitude with him.

“Jesus, man–” Noah’s hand grips your smarting knee, rubbing it gently, “We didn’t hear you come up.” Joel’s left eye twitches at the we, his gaze zeroed in on the hand on your knee, his teeth bared in the perpetuation of a ridiculous growl as he takes a threatening step forward. You lift your brows at him – all your fire and fight from yesterday put to rest now after some much needed sleep. He cocks his brow back at you, shifts his jaw side to side in annoyance.

“Absorbed in your work?” he drawls sardonically.

“We’ve made some good progress actually! Come see,” Noah says, completely missing Joel’s mocking tone, the poor thing. He gives your knee another gentle pat, and you think you might just see steam come out of Joel’s ears. He steps up behind you, chest pressed close to your back and passes a hand over your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. This fucking guy. Now he feels like getting handsy. You scrunch your nose at him, turning back to face Noah and the Bovie, your shoulder pressing into Joel’s belly. Noah takes in your positions, the possessive hand now curled around your neck – looks back down at the knee he’d just grabbed and then back to Joel’s broad intimidating form and scowling face. You see a slow swallow move through his throat. As he starts to explain the changes the two of you had made to the electrocautery generator, you consider the differences between the two of them. The contrast is stark. Noah isn’t small by any means, average height, a nice build – but there’s something about Joel. Some sort of warning in the air around him, in the space he takes up in a room, that makes him larger than life – something that says don’t fuck with me or mine. Heat pools low in your belly and you press your thighs together tightly. Fucked up, you’re fucked up – you try to brush his hand off your neck – suddenly feeling overwhelmed, your skin overly sensitized. “Quit –” he says low in your ear and you almost whimper. He’s jealous, and it’s turning you on. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

You try to shake him off again,“ Let go.”

“No.” His voice is steel. Noah is heedlessly going on about the Bovie, about how it only took a slight rewiring from the generator into the hand-piece without overwhelming the system; giving it the little bump of power it was missing. Joel’s thumb brushes a slow, warning path up and down your neck. Down, down, to the top notch of your vertebrae, slowly kneading the fine muscles surrounding the prominence of your bone and then up and pushing into the base of your skull. His hands are warm and dry – the rough calluses abrading your sensitive skin. You feel the flush in your cheeks traveling down over your chest, the tips of your breasts tightening to painful points. You see Joel’s eyes flicker down, taking you in, and he gives a contemplative hum low in his throat.

“I’m so glad you let me help,” Noah says with a warm smile. He’s sweet and so genuine and as you take him in, how completely unaware he is of the silent struggle going on between you and Joel right in front of him, you’re struck by how easy loving a man like that would be. And how unfulfilling for a woman like you. What is it about some people, that they can’t appreciate a good thing unless it hurts a little?

“Connie and I are real grateful that you could help. You let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” Joel gives him a short nod as you leave.

And then, soft and threatening into the shell of your ear as the two of you walk away from the nice, sweet, uncomplicated boy: we’re goin’ home, and I’m gonna lick that cunt until you’re cryin’, little bird.

Your steps speed up, trying to outrun the clutch of his hands on your skin, trying to escape – even if just a little.

You never stood a chance of that.

He follows, menacingly on your heels, as you dart into your house. A rabbit trying to outrun the big bad wolf. You make for the stairs and you feel the tips of his fingers ghost lightly in the ends of your long hair, one foot on the first step, but then his finger is catching in your belt loop, yanking you hard into his chest. Your back thumps against him with a small oof and then his hands are skating along your curves, big palms squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through the cotton of your t-shirt..

“Bad Birdie, try’na run from me.” He nuzzles, gentle, gentle into the nape of your neck, the line of your hair, presses his mouth to the top notch of your spine. You feel his hot, wet tongue slide over the jut of your vertebrae, small peppered kisses to your nape and your entire body flushes hot – arousal pulling low and tight in your belly. Your clit throbs in time with his panting breath in your ear. His soft mouth is totally at odds with the tension he’s holding himself with right now, the harsh way he presses his fingers into the skin of your hips.

You can feel the thick length of him pressing into your ass; he’s hard as stone and throbbing – turned on by the chase. You moan, deep and wanton, slick pooling in your panties, ready for him now , just at the feel of his hands on you. “You want it, baby?”

“Y– yes,” you stutter, pressing yourself harder into him.

“Want me to fuck that needy little cunt?”

His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his chest and into your back, down, down your body all the way to the tips of your toes. “Please, Joel,” you whimper. You try to turn in his arms, but he clicks his tongue at you, wrapping his arms more tightly around your waist, half dragging, half carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom.

“I always give my Birdie what she needs, don’t I?”

“Settle now. Stay still so I can eat you how I like.” He hitches his hands higher up the backs of your thighs, beneath your knees – spreads you further apart, up and back to press into your breasts, making more space for the broad valley of his naked shoulders. He’d gotten you naked and into bed, quick as a viper. His desperation, evident in the wild look in his eyes. He was unsettled, either by the tension between the two of you yesterday or you around another man, but he was trying to prove some unspoken point to the two of you in the ferocity of his grip on your skin.

He settles his face deep into your sex now and eats. “Who’s all this wet for, huh? Were you thinkin’ about me while that boy tried to get in your good graces?”

“It’s too much. Please, please, please,” you sob. Tears making a slow, steady journey back into your hairline, dripping into your ears. You yank hard on his hair, try to direct his movements. You can’t tell if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer.

“Want me to stop?” He laps at your clit.

“I– I dont– I don’t know–” It felt like he’d been at this for hours. “I–”

“It’s okay.” Soft, whispered kisses to the puffy lips of your sex, your slippery inner thighs. You’re so wet, and you’d have burns from his beard and bruises from his teeth tomorrow. “I know, I know you’re just a little bird,” his teeth sharp and mean to the softest part of you, then the broad flat of his tongue to soothe – a sharp, quick suck to your swollen clit. His volley between rough and tender on your vulnerable sex setting you further on edge than anything else he was doing. “But you can take it for me.You can be so, so good for me. My good girl.”

Your cunt pulls tight – throbs like a wound. Hurts in a way you’re desperate for. You love him, you love him, you love him. Goddamn the things he does to you, makes you feel. You need him so much and he gives it all to you exactly in the way that’s the most perfect, just for you. You feel fucking delirious, on the brink of insanity.

He pushes two thick fingers into you, cunt spasming and clinging. He scissors the digits inside of you, stretches your hole. The squelch is lewd and obscene and messy. You can feel your cheeks burning red and hot, and you throw an arm over your eyes as you feel your slick leak down between your ass to pool on the sheets beneath you – hiding yourself from your own obscenity.

“Pussy s’fuckin’ good, baby. Tastes like candy.” He pulls out his fingers, slaps your cunt, twice, quick and sharp. The sound you let out shames you, high pitched and whining. “Fuckin’ red ‘nd gaping for me. God, Birdie –” he moans so deep it makes your heart race, brings his mouth back to you – licks a broad stripe from hole to clit with the flat of his tongue. His mouth latches to the aching swollen bud and sucks. “You need me so much dont you? Fuckin’ come in my mouth – wanna taste it.” And he’s right, he’s right, you do, you need him so much. In that instant, you feel so grateful that he knows it.

Your back arches, everything liquid within you pooling low in your pelvis, pulling tight, and it feels like the world is about to end around you; a catastrophe even greater than anything the cordyceps could have ever wrought. This is what he brings out of you with his mouth and his fingers and his words, and you gush onto his face. He almost fucking whines at the splash of your orgasm on his tongue – slurping down everything you have to give him, you feel your wetness cover his face and beard. This is what you give to each other.

He gentles his fingers and tongue. Letting your orgasm coast along into echoes and throbs. You try to push him away with your foot on the thick mass of his shoulder, on the brink of overstimulation, but quick as a viper, he circles his entire large palm around the fine bones of your ankle and squeezes. Quit – presses a tiny kiss to the protrusion of your bone there.

“ Mine,” he growls. “Mine, no one touches you but me–” His hands open you wider for him, fileting you for his eyes only. You feel hot and flush, your skin tight, to the point of bursting, like an overripe plum in the sun. Skin fragile and thin, insides viscous, ready to spill your flesh for him, blood burning hot as it churns in your veins. “Not fuckin’ done yet, Birdie. Not done with this perfect pussy.” Tears make a slow path down your temples, your fingers tangled in his hair, wanting to hurt– just a little. Like the delicious hurt of holding him within yourself. The way it feels like an old aching bruise inside of you when he stuffs you full of his cock. And then he’s up, up, up – quick as a whip – his fingers shoving into the tangle of your hair at the nape of your neck, captured in a tight fist like prey in a snare, and he’s shoving your own taste deep into you with his tongue. The kiss, open and savage – he’s fucking your mouth like he was just fucking your pussy. Your heart pushes against the bones of your chest, and you desperately clutch at his shoulders for some sort of countenance. He unmoors you . You have been unmoored by this man. And you want – need – more.

He kneels between your open legs, thick thighs anchoring you wider and fists his cock, the head gleaming and painfully red. He pulls your thighs over his own thicker ones, and presses the fat tip hard to your sensitive clit, making you jolt and whimper pathetically. “Cock drunk, that’s what you are.” All you can do is nod dumbly, eyes glassy and wet. His voice is so deep. He drags the head down to your entrance, presses just a little, only the fat tip held inside you. He fucks you short and shallow like that, his hips moving in tiny, slow jerks.

“Please,” you sigh, your eyes fluttering shut at the subtle pressure, at the promise of what’s about to come, “Please, Joel.”

“Please what? Please what?” he mocks, just a little mean, and then he’s surging inside in one brutal thrust. Fucking into you without warning and he’s huge — almost too much to take, even after your orgasms. “Fucking tight,” he grits out. He hoists you up, arms wrapped around your waist and starts fucking up and into you, hard. Not giving you a moment to adjust. Letting go of the restraint he’d held while he ate you out. Cock battering into something deep and sensitive inside you, all you can do is take it. Let him have you as he pleases.

He can feel your slick pooling at the base of his cock and sliding down his balls. He wraps his hand around the fine bones of your jaw, “Who’s pussy is this?” he growls over the wet slap, “Wanna hear it out loud.”

Yours, yours, yours.

Your face is flushed and sweaty, cheeks red as an apple, eyes glazed, dark, wet lashes clumped together. The fucked out look in your eyes doing more for him than anything else. This is what he does to you, only him . He picks up the pace of his hips, fucks you harder, harder and your tits bounce against his chest. He slaps one of them gently, appreciating the soft jiggle it gives, the small gasp you let out. His other hand snakes low on your tummy and presses down into your pelvis so he can feel the battering of his cock inside of your cunt and shit he’s gonna come soon. Gonna come with his hand feeling himself fuck you from the outside. “Too much, too much, Joel ,” you whine. “Oh god, I– I’m gonna–” You’re soaked, sweat and slick sliding between your two bodies, and clutching him hot and tight as a fist. He can’t get deep enough, can’t give it to you hard enough. He never wants to stop, will never be able to stop.

“You’re taking my cock so good, so fucking good. Jesus fuck, I can’t, I can’t–” He slates his mouth over your open panting one, licks into the sweet, red gleam of you. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he drags his teeth along your full bottom lip, lets it go with a little wet pop. You moan, head falling back on your neck, beyond words. He bends his head, hand wrapped around the fullness of your tit to bring it to his mouth, bites gently down on the tight, aching bud, laves his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth. Then he’s pushing you back, letting you fall and bounce onto the mattress, legs splayed. When he pulls out abruptly you whimper – he can’t let himself come yet, not yet, just a little more – and he leaves a hot trail of open mouth kisses down your neck, over your shoulder, sucking the peak of your breast into his mouth again, over the swell of your belly, until he’s between your thighs again and bends his head to devour your slick. His tongue licking deep inside where his cock just was. He’s frantic. There’s no reason to the sense of urgency he feels, the urgency he’s taking you with right now. It’s something subconscious – something primal telling him to mark you, lay his claim.

He can’t stop taking and taking, always taking.

He pulls up again from between your legs, the abruptness of his movements confusing you, leaving you to deliriously allow him to do with you what he will. “Taste us,” he says as he licks into your mouth, fucking his aching cock back into your spent cunt, so fucking tight always. “One more, baby. Gimme one more, lemme feel you milk me.” And like his own personal little marionette on a string, you do. Pussy fluttering and then pulling tight, a little furl of a knot, squeezing his own orgasm out of him. He feels his balls pull up tight and he’s painting you inside, teeth latched tightly to the delicate muscle that connects your neck and shoulder. The sound from your throat is high and keening, supplicant. He licks the hurt he’s just left. Grinds his spitting cock deep, right into the mouth of your womb.

Mine, mine, fucking mine. It is a mantra of reassurance for the both of you.

He cradles you in his embrace afterwards, his body wrapped around you as if he were a vine grown from your very heart. He sighs, the sound deep from his chest, and you want to tell yourself you can hear a yearning desperate enough to match your own in the cadence of it. His head drops to your shoulder, nuzzles the vulnerable space beneath your jaw, now riddled with his bites and bruises. You know you’ll enjoy inspecting them in the mirror tomorrow, feeling the warm pull of your belly at the reminder. And the moment is so achingly tender, even more intimate in a way, than your sex. The feel of him surrounding you, soft and quiet. Your eyes feel hot, pinching threateningly.

“I have to go,” he murmurs, spent cock still buried inside of you. He presses kisses to your hair, your lips, over your closed eyelids. He can’t stop, God, he’s tried – is trying – but he can’t go, can’t part from you. Fighting is so fucking hard when you’ve got no will behind it. When what you’re trying to fight against is the thing you’ve wanted more than anything else in your whole life, and the only thing standing in your way is yourself, your own inadequacy. Perhaps he could endure the agony, the filth of life, the loss, the loss, the loss, with you held in his arms like this.

His patrol shift started almost an hour ago. The guys were going to ream the hell out of him, he’d been here with you for hours, and still, still he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull himself away. His lack of will, lack of restraint, of self control – his body and heart’s inability to do what his mind told him to, makes him so angry. At himself, and maybe – not at you, never you – but perhaps, at what you represented. All he wanted but couldn’t let himself have in full. He needed to go. He had responsibilities. He had truths to confess to himself.

He was in love with you. He was. He was.

Joel was an obstinate man, but he did not lack self awareness. Now was the moment for this truth, if only confessed to himself. So, angry, and in love with you, and tremendously sorry, he turns away. Pulls out of your tight wet clutch with a wince, your breathy gasp making his cock twitch slightly, even so soon after he’s just come. You roll over, burrow into the pillows, and he grips the swell of your ass, pulls you apart to feast on the sight of his come leaking out of you. Obscene. Wet and messy and swollen, marked by his spend. He wants to bend for a taste but knows if he does, he won’t stop, will be likely to start all over again. “I gotta go, Birdie. M’already late.” He bends to nip a gentle bite to your ass cheek, one small last taste, then the press of a kiss. He hopes you can feel all he cannot say with that touch. The soft sound of acquiescence you hum as you burrow further into the sheets has his teeth clenching as he reaches for his clothes, heart turning over in his chest. He’s sure every sound out of you has a direct connection to his cock at this point.

He won’t shower, won’t wash your drying come from his body. He’ll take you with him, wear you on his skin. Anyways, what did it matter, really, when he already wore you on his heart, his soul? What was one more conquering of his self? Perhaps this was, ultimately, what swallowing the sea looked like.

Chapter III

Netherfeildren Masterlist

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #FOG fic

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

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(continued from Part 1)

Steve takes the train in, because there’s no place to park on Eddie and Robin’s street. He’s always driven before, and it makes him a little nervous to be leaving his car behind, but Robin keeps saying it’ll be fine.

“We’ve got great transit here!” she says, and Steve wonders when we started meaning Robin and Eddie and all the people who aren’t Steve. “I mean, the buses are kind of shitty sometimes. And don’t ever talk to strangers on the Red Line. But as long as you don’t live too far west, you can get pretty much anywhere in the city without a car. You won’t miss it, Steve, I swear.”

He does miss it a little, as he gets off the train at Union Station. He feels weirdly unprotected with nothing between him and the crush of people swarming through the high-ceilinged halls. It makes him feel over-sensitive and small, pulled along by the crowd because he knows better than to stop in the middle of the station and stare at a map like some small-town dumbass.

Eddie’s waiting on the steps outside the station.

He looks good. He’s bundled up in a leather jacket and scarf; he pulls a hand out of his pocket to give a half-hearted wave. He doesn’t go to meet Steve halfway or anything, he just stands there and waits for Steve to make it out.

“Eddie,” says Steve, when he gets close enough. He almost goes for a hug, but shifts to a shoulder-clap at the last minute. “Good to see you, man.”

“Heya, Harrington. Robin couldn’t get out of work early enough, so she made me promise to shepherd you directly to our door. Don’t want you getting lost in the mean streets of Chicago, huh?”

Eddie doesn’t wait for him to respond, just grabs Steve’s suitcase and starts walking fast. Steve has to scramble to keep up.

———

Steve whistles when he gets into the new place. It’s bigger than he was expecting, with a bay window looking over a little courtyard from the living room.

“Nice digs,” he says.

Eddie laughs. “I know it’s not exactly like what you’ve got in Hawkins. Robbie says you’ve got a whole house with a yard and shit. Living the dream.”

Steve stamps down on the weird feeling he gets hearing Eddie say Robbie so casually. They’re friends. They live together. It’s fine.

“No, I mean it.” Steve takes a good look around, wandering over to peer out the bay window. “This is nice. Better than the last place Robin had.”

Eddie unwinds his scarf, dumping it on a chair. “That’s for damn sure, at least. You want anything to drink?”

“Sure,” says Steve. He’s not really thirsty, but it’s something to do.

Eddie hands him a beer, and they stand in silence for an awkward moment.

“So…how’ve you been?” asks Steve. He thinks the instinct to make small talk is probably baked into him.

Eddie shrugs. “Not so bad. Been playing some gigs, teaching a little at the music school. Getting by.”

Eddie flops down on the couch and takes a drink from his own beer, not looking at Steve, so Steve takes the opportunity to have a good look at Eddie.

It’s been about two years since the last time he saw Eddie. It’s kinda funny; after everything, he’d kind of had this crazy idea that Eddie would fold right into their little Hawkins monster-hunting troop. Like maybe he’d have someone around who wasn’t his ex or under fifteen or Robin Buckley. Because he loves Robin more than he knew he could love another human being, but Eddie’s something else entirely; something he thought could’ve fit into his life pretty well, given the chance.

It hadn’t happened, though. Steve had gone to visit him nearly every damn day in the hospital, usually with Dustin in tow, just hanging out for a couple hours with him and Max. It hadn’t been a hardship to keep them company. In fact, it got so the hospital visits were the highlight of Steve’s day, just getting to hear Eddie tell his wild stories to try and make Max laugh. It had felt really good to be there with them.

Apparently Eddie hadn’t been on the same page, because Steve hadn’t even fucking known when Eddie left the hospital. He’d just showed up by himself one day for visiting hours and was told oh, Mr. Munson was discharged on Thursday. Steve hadn’t even had a shift on Thursday. He could’ve driven Eddie home.

Anyway, Steve could take a hint. He’d tried again a few times, inviting Eddie to hang out, just the two of them; but Eddie always seemed to be busy, and then before he knew it, Eddie'd been hunching against the February chill in the Hendersons’ back yard and saying I won’t ask. And that was pretty much that.

#I have been having a truly spectacularly bad week including my phone being stolen #so I may be even more scarce around here than usual for a little while #steddie #fic: grace coming out of the void

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clownprincehoeshi · 3 months

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Parallel Hearts - Chapter 4

Synopsis: Never in your wildest dreams you imagined that you’ll meet your ult bias. But it seems that the universe really loves you this time. Will Jeon Jungkook notice you?

Genre: for all chapters- Fluff, Smut, Angst

Pairing: idol Jeon Jungkook x fem reader, idol Kim Mingyu x fem reader, idol Y x fem reader

Warning: for all chapters- Kissing/Nudity/Sex scene/Pet names/Angst Minors don’t interact!

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Word count: 6401

Don't know how this chapter got so long. By my calculations, all chapters combined will go somehwere between 40k and 50k. Depends how much the plot thickens. Happy reading!

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Masterlist

This is a feeling you know too well. You’ve been here before and you hate it. You hate how all you think about it’s him, how you can barely sleep or eat, how you cry so much. You hate you’re so far from home and you can’t have your besties to keep you company and give you warm hugs. They know you the best.

Of course Hana has become your good friend, but can’t compare a friendship of 15 years with one of 1 year. Though, you feel you can trust her, you were always lucky with picking your friend. Apparently, you’re not as good at picking men.

Hana has been sleeping at your place since the breakup, 3 weeks ago. She’s going to be visiting her parents in Busan this weekend though, and you’re afraid you might have nightmares again. It’s something that happens whenever you’re really sad.

But you’re making progress. You can finally eat almost normally, you went back to the gym, but you can’t yet listen to music. You feel like music reminds you of him and you are not ready yet for it. Sleep is still a problem for you, as you need to know that someone is there for you, in your house. Breakups have always left a hole in your heart, a loneliness you can’t express. So you need company. You feel like a lost puppy.

You told Hana that you’ll feel extra lonely this weekend since she’s not going to be there and she said not to worry, because she’ll send one of your friends to keep you company. She didn’t say who, she said she wasn’t sure which one will be in town and have some free time.

So you waited all day on Saturday for your mystery friend to arrive. You even baked and bought some of that good meat to grill later, as a sign of gratitude. You hear knocking on the door and you go to open it.

Y/N: Mingyyyuuu!

You are so happy to see him, that you jump right at him for a tight hug.

Mingyu: I had no idea you missed me so much.

You invite him in and you feel relieved that it’s him and not someone else. The only downside is that he reminds you of him, as they are such close friends. He’s hoping to find out more from you, and maybe get you to open up. He wants to be there for you and help you get over this dark period you’re having.

Y/N: Tell me what you need. I even got meat and we can cook. You’re thirsty, hungry?

Mingyu: I feel like we could use some drinks before anything.

Y/N: Yesss, please!

You get some soju out and you try to not abuse alcohol right now, you tend to speak too much when you’re drunk. And you get to become too direct and honest. You both sit on the couch that’s facing your big living room windows, revealing the city.

Y/N: Maaan, I love to sit here for hours and look out the window. But I hate that winters here are cold as fuck. And I’m not sure yet if I like snow or if I hate it.

After some time of silence from Mingyu, and a couple of glasses, he finally got the courage to say something.

Mingyu: Y/N?

Y/N: Hmm?

Mingyu: I want you to know that I had no idea he didn’t tell you he will leave now. Even if I knew, I don’t think it was my place to let you know. And I hate that he acted like this and that he hurt you. I tried to talk to him about it and he just blew off, saying some stupid shit.

Y/N: What he did say? Because all he said to me was that he was sorry, on the day he enlisted. That was some lousy text. I blocked him after that.

Mingyu: He said “Why aren’t you happy now? You can finally have her”.

Y/N: What a stupid thing to say to his best friend. Where did that come from, why is he acting jealous since he never gave a shit about me?

Mingyu: Well I think he was always jealous, just not letting it show. Thing is this kind of affected our friendship. I mean, I was the first person to tell him to go for you, to confess. And for him to act like I was trying to make a move on you was pretty shitty.

Y/N: So let him believe that. Hope he can’t sleep well at night, thinking his ex and his bestie are fucking.

Mingyu: Whoaah, language!

He looks at you and asks how many glasses you had. You lift 4 fingers but you say two.

Mingyu: That’s it, no more soju for you, princess!

Y/N: I’m not a princess, look how I dress. Like a homeless dude.

He comes to hug you, patting your head.

Mingyu: You’re my homeless dude, then. Now let me be your chef for today, I’ll make you something really delicious.

And you let him cook. Not that you’re lazy, but you’re a little drunk and you don’t want to mess up. You’re feeling too good now, and you put some music on. You think some D’Angelo fits with today. You even forget you we’re not able to listen any music since the breakup.

Alcohol takes away your shyness and it’s like you’re another person, but you just think it brings the real you, fun, funny, silly, bright, friendly and chatty. Mingyu just giggles every time you’re like this, because he says it makes him happy when you’re happy.

He wonders if it’s a mistake that he came to keep you company today. And while he was having that thought and also moving around your kitchen, he felt you body brushing his. He froze and looked at you. You were just minding your business, looking for plates to set the table. The space between your counters and the kitchen island was not very generous, bot in your drunken state, you didn’t realize that.

He kept looking at you and felt his cheeks heating up. As your body brushed his, your hand also brushed his abs. It sent electric shocks through his body. He always had a thing for you, we can call it a crush. He gave up on you, as you were into his friend, so he kept these feelings closed. But what just happened now, woke a tiny little thought in his mind. What if…?

A voice brought him back to reality and a pair of big bright eyes looking up at him. Damn, you looked adorable.

Y/N: Gyyyyuuu! How many times do I have to call for you? You’re ghosting me right in my face.

Mingyu: Sorry, what does my princess want?

You look at him angrily and mumble something only for you to hear. Sheesh, such a tall and handsome dummy.

Y/N: Nevermind!

Food is ready, he made the grill and rice and you made salad. He knew that if you eat and drink lots of water, the alcohol will not have such a strong effect on you, and he was right. But he kept on drinking, he has a big tolerance. After dinner, you both took a shower. Separately. You went to you bedroom and he took the couch. Was a pretty big couch, he felt comfortable.

It was easy for you to drift to sleep after all that alcohol and food. And after that hot shower. But in the middle of the night you woke up scared and sweaty after a bad dream. Someone or something was chasing you in your dream.

You remembered Mingyu was there and you got out of bed to go check if he was maybe awake, to…talk to you, make you forget about the nightmare and the stupid mood it put you in. But he was sleeping. You got down on your knees, close to him and waited a little. In your sleepy state you thought that maybe if you stare enough, he’ll wake up and just guess what was going on in your head.

You whispered his name slowly but nothing. You pouted and got up to go back to bed. As you were getting up, you felt a grip on your wrist. He was awake. Why didn’t he say something? He pulled you down and you lost your balance and fell right on top of him.

Mingyu: What’s wrong, princess? Came for cuddles?

Y/N: Uuummm I had a bad dream.

Mingyu: That’s why you’re on top of me in the middle of the night?

Y/N: You pulled me.

Mingyu: Not that hard.

Y/N: I tripped.

Mingyu: On purpose?

You whined, trying to get up, but he didn’t let you.

Mingyu: Stay here now, you said you had a bad dream. I’ll protect you, that’s why I’m here.

Y/N: Gyu..we shouldn’t. This isn’t..

Mingyu: Right? Why isn’t it right? You’re a free woman now, nothing wrong with us sleeping in the same bed, or couch. You’re still thinking about that jerk?

You drop your face into his chest, feeling stupid.

Mingyu: Darling, don’t feel bad, ok? He was stupid and now he’s gone. There are so many other guys that would be sooo happy to be with you.

You tried to speak into his chest but he didn’t understand any word. He just stroked your head and told you that you can use him as a pillow, or as anything you wanted. You were quiet and you stayed there. It felt nice. Warm and fuzzy. So you fell asleep in his arms and he was a happy man that night.

You only had Mingyu sleeping at your place one more time, but Hana was there too. It was after a little get together of the 97 crew. It’s been 2 months after the breakup and you felt good now. Crying had stopped, nightmares had stopped, and you didn’t feel lonely anymore.

Also, since you and Mingyu were closer now, you started to get into his group. It was like a ray of sunshine watching them do silly stuff on their shows and interviews. Reminded you of when you first got into kpop. Mingyu was very busy lately with Seventeen, preparing for a comeback, but he never forgot to check up on you and call you every other day.

You knew Mingyu was a ladies man and that he always had flings and affairs, mostly with female idols, actresses, models or just women that were famous. He would tell you about them sometimes and ask for advice. It seemed that he would never settle thought, like he was bored right away and was looking for something, but even he didn’t know what that something was.

You were at work one day and you had a meeting with your boss and teams about a new project you will work on. You were the team’s artist, you were skilled with your hands and very talented. You used to paint with Jungkook when you were together and you hated that every time you were drawing for work it reminded you of him. At least you’re not crying now, tight? Those days are over.

So this new project was for Hybe. Ugh! Will this man hunt you forever? You had to work with Seventeen’s team for their new promotion and when you heard you were a bit excited. Ok, maybe a lot excited, because you pretty much became a fan of them. This meant that you might be ending up meeting them, or at least some of them.

For the next few weeks, each member would come to your agency and have individual or group shootings, and you had to be there for everything. Who was your bias? You thought it was Mingyu, obviously, but other than him, don’t ask. It’s impossible when there are so many of them and all so interesting in their own way.

Today’s shooting was for Hoshi, he was he 7th member you’ll be meeting. You got a little late at the office that day, so you were running in your heels like a crazy dude, carrying all these papers and drawings. Then, the next second you were on the floor, all your shit flying every where. You look at your skirt. Kimchy all over it. Your head hurt.

Guy: Omg, I’m so sorry, I was not looking, I had my face into my bowl.

He got up to help you. You were about to unleash the fire of hell on this guy, until you saw his face.

Y/N: Oh! It’s fine, it happens. It’s my fault too, for being late and running. I’m here for your shooting, anyway, I’m in charge of the set.

Hoshi: I’m Hoshi, it’s nice meeting you and again, I am sorry. Let me gather your stuff and help you clean your skirt.

Y/N: No no no no, it’s ok, really. I always keep extra clothes in my office just in case, I’ll change.

Hoshi: I feel so bad, not sure that spot will come off, I should know.

He pouts and you think it’s the most adorable thing ever.

Y/N: Btw, I am Y/N and a friend of Mingyu.

He looked a little stunned at your words and he became very defensive.

Hoshi: Oh, you’re that Y/N. Ok, then I should go back to the shooting, they expecting me.

And like that, he just ran away, he let you stand there with your extended hand, waiting for him to shake it. What a weird guy. But why did he say it like that? “that Y/N”. You decide to ask Mingyu about this tonight.

The shoot went smoothly, Hoshi was a natural and he is very photogenic. Though he kept giving you weird looks, almost mean and you felt like you did something but had no idea what it was.

Back home that night, you text Mingyu and tell him to call you when he’s free. He calls you in 2 hours after he gets home.

Mingyu: Y/N, hey! What are you up to? Missed me?

Y/N: Of course, why not.

And you start laughing by yourself, very proud of your joke. But he doesn’t flinch.

Mingyu: Ugh, please. Since you started watching Going Seventeen you’ve gotten insane.

Y/N: Come on, it’s cute when you say it.

Mingyu: Ok, going to hang up.

Y/N: Nooo, pleaseee Gyu! I’m sorry, I’m sorryyyy!

Mingyu: I like when you beg. Go on..

Y/N: Shut up, perv! I have a curiosity. Today I met your buddy, Hoshi and he was very awkward around me after he found out who I was. He said “oh, you’re THAT Y/N”. Spill!

Mingyu: Hmm, I have no idea. I mean, some of the guys know about you, that we’re friends, but that’s it.

Y/N: Hmm, I think it’s weird and there’s something more there. Maybe you don’t know either or you don’t want to tell me. Which is fine, I will find out on my own, I’m a good detective.

Mingyu bursts laughing. You end the call 30 minutes later and you keep thinking about that encounter with Hoshi all night.

It’s time for vacation, you and Hana got a week off work because you want to attend some concert Mingyu invited you both to. Seventeen is going to perform in Thailand and you always wanted to go there, so it’s the perfect opportunity. They will have 3 concerts there and you decided to go to one only, because you needed time to do tourist shit with Hana.

You tried to bring only your best clothes and accessories, because you knew you’ll see the guys again and you wanted to make a good impression. Plus, Hana didn’t let you bring any of your homeless stuff. You were a little pouty about that, but you’ll listen to her THIS time, because it was vacay time.

You did a lot of shopping there, spent a lot of time at the beach and trying out local food. Took tons of pictures, you wanted to post on your socials so that Jungkook will see you’re happy without him too. You didn’t know how he would see, you just liked to think he will.

You always get a nice golden tan in the summer and it somehow makes you look prettier, everyone tells you that it suits you. Hana insisted that you attend soudcheck too, not just the actual concert, claiming that’s where to fun is. Oh well, you went anyway and made sure to look your best. So you got the “girls” out, wearing a deep cut top, let your long hair flow over your back.

Y/N: Wifeu, quick answer. Should I wear something to show off my legs or my ass?

Hana: Uff, hard one. How about both?

Y/N: Nahh, too slutty for a concert.

Hana: Girl, you need to get laid again in this life.

Y/N: Legs or ass?

Hana: Damn, let’s have a little meeting about this. It’s important. So we’re going to dinner with some of the guys after the concert. What’s the first thing they will notice when they see you?

Y/N: Boos, of course.

Hana: Yes. But after that? I think they will notice the legs, since you’ll be facing them.

Y/N: Ok, so legs it is.

Hana: Unless……there will be times when we will be walking, turning, moving and stuff. And there will be people behind you, and if you wear tights pants, they’ll die.

Y/N: Come ooon, make up your mind woman!

Hana: Oh, ok. Legs. I think.

So you wore a short skirt that matched you top. Your top had a tiger print, it was just a coincidence, but Hana thought you were wearing it for a certain someone.

You were in the crowd, front seats, excited to see Mingyu and give him funny looks. When the guys came up the stage, the crowd went crazy. You could understand, these boys were breathtakingly handsome and pretty. What’s the deal with this Jeonghan guy, you think. Where does he have this audacity to look so beautiful?

Well your friend Mingyu was beautiful too, you knew that, you were not blind. Everyone knew that. And he had this stupid look on his face the entire soundcheck. He kept looking at where you two were standing. He looked…pretty hot, you have to admit. Even Hana said so.

And when the wind blew over his t shirt and shorts, it kind of…made you feel something. Were you too vacation drunk? You know you get hornier when you travel, so you blamed it on that.

The concert was so fun, you danced, singed, waved at them. Some of them recognized you from the shoots they had at your agency and they waved back. You found it funny to catch Hoshi throw some looks your way, but he was not smiling or anything, just serious looks. What’s wrong with this guy?

You knew it’s going to be a process to get out of the stadium when the concert is over, it was really crowded and you were right next to the stage, so you had to wait a lot for the people in the back to get out. Because of this, you and Hana arrived at the dinner place after the guys got there.

You went to the rooftop to find Mingyu, DK, Wonwoo, Hoshi, Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun and Minghao. You needed a drink, you were too nervous. Your hands were shaking as the guys stood up to shake your hands and introduce themselves once again. They all remembered you, except DK. And of course you knew Wonwoo pretty well.

The whole night you felt eyes on you. You still didn’t shy away to eat like you like to eat and Mingyu always praises you for this, telling you that you eat well. Whatever that means. Some of the guys asked you a bunch of questions, Hoshi was the only one to not engage with you.

Jeonghan even asked if you wore that tiger print top because Hoshi was your bias. Made you blush at the remark but you said you have no bias and that you don’t want to betray your friend Mingyu by having one.

DK: I can be your bias, I’ll deal with Mingoo, don’t worry.

Jeonghan: Yeah, he’s big but he’s not dangerous.

Y/N: Hey guys, don’t be mean with my Mingoo. I know you bully him a lot.

And you pout and put your hand over Mingyu’s hand. He blushes at the touch and he pulls his hand right away, slapping yours in a playful way.

The food was delicious there and you even put a little alcohol in you, some champagne. The guys went a little crazy because it was their last concert there and the net day they would return to Seoul. You saw Hoshi had red cheeks, sign that he was drunk. After ONE glass, guys. ONE glass. But this made him a little friendlier.

It also made him clingy with his members as he kept on kissing their faces. You thought it was cute. You love men that are not afraid of showing affection to their friends. Since you also had a couple of drinks, you felt courageous enough to engage with Hoshi and maybe find out if you did something wrong, so you could fix it.

So you saw him taking some photos of the view and you walked towards him.

Y/N: Hi!

Hoshi: Hi.

Y/N: Can I ask you something?

Hoshi: I guess.

Y/N: Did I do something to you? Because I feel like you hate me or something. And maybe there is a misunderstanding. I don’t know. If I did something, I’m sorry and please let me know so I can fix it.

Hoshi: Why do you treat Mingyu like that?

Y/N: Like what?

Hoshi: Like he’s some fool that you can walk over.

Y/N: What?

He looks right into your eyes, rage inside them. You have no idea where this is coming from and you don’t know where to go from here. You just know there is a misunderstanding between you. You would be fuming right now if it were some guy and you would just walk away, but it’s Mingyu’s friend and you don’t want to start some drama.

Y/N: I assure you, I don’t treat him like that. And I can have this conversation in front of him, right now, if you’d like, so you can see that’s you’re having the wrong idea about me.

Hoshi: Hmm, yeah, I see it. The gaslighting. That’s how you do it.

And he just hisses and leaves you there. You’re dumbfounded, what was that. You’ll need to talk to Mingyu again, he will have to tell you this time. You’ll do that after you all get back to Seoul and he gets some free time in his hectic schedule.

It’s not like you care what people think of you, it doesn’t affect you. But why did Hoshi having a bad opinion about you affected you so much? He wasn’t someone close to you. Tonight, Mingyu, Eunwoo and Hana are coming to your place for dinner. You’ll be cooking for them this time.

You ate, had some shots, played some cards and when it was time for them to leave, you asked Mingyu to stay a little bit longer because you wanted to talk about something.

Mingyu: Ok, what is it?

Y/N: So your friend Hoshi hates me and I think someone told him something about me that was not true. I know you know something that you’re not telling me.

Mingyu: Y/N, there are some things that I can’t just tell you, but why he’s like that to you, I don’t know. All I can say is that me and him had some conversations about you, maybe he misunderstood something I’ve said? It’s possible.

Y/N: You ever told him anything about me and Jungkook?

Mingyu: No, nothing about him. But why do you care so much? Just let him be, not like you’re close.

Y/N: But I want your friends to like me.

Mingyu: Why?

Y/N: Just cuz. What’s it to you?

And you slap his arm hard, making him whine and calling you mean. You invited him to spend the night on your couch, since he had to drink, but he said he has a hot date and how he’s been seeing this new girl for a month. So he left, leaving you wondering even more about the things that he doesn’t tell you.

Spring has come. Your second favorite season. Your favorite is summer, because you’re a lizard that loves the heat. And you like spring because it’s finally getting warmer, the plants are coming back to life, and it’s your birthday season. It’s also Mingyu’s birthday season and he’s planning a party.

The venue is huge and it feels like the invited the whole kpop industry. He’s so popular, you think. Why didn’t you go for him, in stead of Jungkook? Really? Why? Oh, maybe because he’s kind of a…fuckboy?

You try to look like your sexiest self, but not too over the top. You remember what happened the last time when you looked too sexy. Some guy confessed and you ended up with your heart broken. So no, this time, going easier on the sexiness, thank you.

All night, you tried to stay close to Hana, holding her hand or her dress. You didn’t know who most of those people were. Hana kept dragging you from corner to corner, because she was into a guy from a band, you can’t remember the name. You have trouble remembering names. You bumped into the other Seventeen members and greeted each other. Hoshi didn’t even look at you. Huh, what a douche.

Trying to stay sober tonight, you want to remember it, because so many celebrities were here. You saw some members of TXT, Enhypen, Le Seraffim, The Boyz, Ateez. Mingi was not there and Hana was hearbroken. You felt good close to your 97 gang, still holding Hana’s hand.

Mingyu comes to you guys and hugs all of you, thanking you that you came. He hugs you a little too long. He has a sad look on his face and you ask if something is wrong. He shaked his head, but with a pout and a sad look. You knew it was something. Then DK and Minghao come over to chat.

DK: Hey guy, what’s up? Shall we do some shots?

Mingyu: Yes, and nobody can say no.

You all do 2 rounds of shots. Then you see Minghao coming closer to you.

Minghao: How’s tonight treating you, you having fun at the party?

Y/N: Hmm, so and so. I’m not a social butterfly like Mingyu here, but at least I have my friends.

Minghao: You look gorgeous, I have to say. You have great taste.

DK: Hao, did you just tell her she tastes good? Wtf?

You and Minghao start laughing. DK could be such a clown sometimes. While you were laughing, Minghao was leaning a little towards you, touching your shoulder and Mingyu noticed that and slapped his hand off you. He made it look like it was in a funny way, but you felt that he was protective. But come on, Minghao? He’s the sweetest guy, don’t need protection from him.

The night was a success, even though Mingyu seemed to be really stressed out. But probably because he wanted all to turn out ok.

You were back at home, 3 AM, when your phones rings. It was Mingyu.

Y/N: Mingoo, birthday boy, what’s up?

Mingyu: Can I come up?

Y/N: You’re here?

Mingyu: Yeah.

Y/N: Come up.

Now you were worried. His voice seemed a bit off, different. When he enters your apartment, the first thing he does is to hug you tight and you hear him sobbing.

Y/N: Gyu, what happened?

Mingyu: She was supposed to come tonight but she just ghosted me.

Y/N: Who?

Mingyu: I was seeing a girl, Y/N. She broke up with me one my birthday, with a lousy text.

Y/N: Aww, come here.

You hugged him some more, kissing his head.

Y/N: Come on, let’s sit. You want water, food?

Mingyu: Water, please.

He gulps a whole glass of water and calms down. You had no idea he had a serious gf or that he had feeling for someone. He was always a mystery.

Y/N: Wanna talk about it?

Mingyu: Not right now. Can you cuddle me tonight, please?

He was looking so sweetly into your eyes that you couldn’t say no, it was your time to be there for him and you will do whatever he needs you to do.

You let him take a shower, made him a sandwich. You know he’s a big boy and needs to eat. Made him hot tea to help him sleep and put him into bed. You put a warm blanket over both of you and hold him close to you. Felt his breath on your neck and from time he would make out little cute noises. You could tell he was hurting.

You started stroking his hair slowly, telling him it will be ok and that you’re there for him.

Mingyu: Y/N?

Y/N: Yes, Gyu.

Mingyu: What if we…

Y/N: What

Mingyu: No, nevermind.

Y/N: I hate it when you do that.

Mingyu: There is something I need to do.

Y/N: Ok, what is it?

Mingyu: Will you say yes?

Y/N: But I don’t know what it is.

Mingyu: Can’t you just…trust me?

Y/N: I do trust you.

Then he lifts his face from your shoulder and he is laying now on his side, facing you. He cups your face with one hand and brings his face close to yours, almost touching. Is he trying to kiss you? If he does, will you let him? He might be just drunk and will regret it tomorrow. And what about you? Do you want this? Thousand thoughts flooding your mind right now. If you’re being honest with yourself, you have thought about him that way.

You have looked at his lips one to many times and wondered how they feel like. Wondered how you’d feel under him, in his strong hands. You blamed it on the horniness and nothing else.

Your heart starts racing and when he puts his lips on your, you let him. You let him kiss you. And you like it, it feel right. But also wrong. But you know what? Get fucked, Jungkook, you deserve this. You deserve I make out with your friend.

He’s being so soft with you, so careful not to break you. Your lips open for his tongue to lick the inside of your mouth. You can feel heat raising inside you and you moan his name into his mouth. That was like a wakeupcall for him, because he stops and pulls away.

Mingyu: I’m sorry, shouldn’t have done that. I’ll go sleep on the couch.

And he leaves you in bed, alone and turned on. You were so turned on that you didn’t try to go after him, because you needed release right then and there. So you took matters into your hands, while thinking about Mingyu and what would he do to you. While you rubbed your clit slow, you imagined he was eating you out, pushing his fat fingers inside your soaked pussy. You could feel wetting the bed, you were that wet. You tried to fuck yourself with your fingers, but after a few minutes, you felt it was not enough. Damn you, Kim Mingyu! You needed him. Wanted him. You needed him to be inside you, fucking into you hard.

You got out of bed, took your clothes off and decided to go to him and just hope he won’t push you away again. If he kissed you, then he wanted this too, but he needed to know now that you wanted it also. So you went into the living room and you laid your naked self under his blanket, next to him.

He didn’t wait, he didn’t say anything, didn’t hesitate. He just took you right then. He felt like fire all over your body. His kisses so passionate, his lips all over your body. Licking your ear, your neck, whispering filthy things into your ears. His hands roaming all over you, squeezing your breasts, licking them with hunger and sucking on them. You started to pull him into you, wrapping your legs over his waist.

His cock felt so hard and big under his pants, rubbing on your naked pussy. You needed him so bad.

Mingyu: God, I’ve been wanting to have you like this since forever.

Y/N: Touch me, Gyu. Please!

Mingyu: I want to taste you so bad, baby. Want to taste your pussy and feel it cumming around my tongue.

Y/N: Fuck! Do whatever you want to me

His mouth traced lower, to your tummy, leaving open mouth kisses, to your hips and finally to your pussy. Licking your folds and feeling how wet you were for him. Teasing your poor clit that needed attention and release so bad.

Mingyu: You’re so wet for me, fuck! You’ll feel so good around my cock, princess

He started to lap at your clit fast, pushing a finger inside you. He felt you were so tight around one finger, he needed to prep you more for his cock. A second finger goes inside and you clench so hard around them.

Mingyu: Right there, baby? Gong to cum on my fingers like this?

Y/N: Yess, don’t stop. Please, Gyu!

And you came so hard that you were seeing stars. You pulled him by the shirt up to your face and tried to get him naked. You wanted to see him naked so bad, to run your hands all over his sculpted body.

Y/N: You feel so good naked, rubbing on me! I need you, Gyu

Mingyu: Tell me how you want me, baby

Y/N: I want you to fuck me hard, want you inside me. Ruin me!

Mingyu puts one hand around your throat, squeezing slow and getting tighter by the minute. Starts to kiss you hungrily. The other hand he used to hold your waist down. Then he begins to push into you and you can’t control your moans.

He thinks you sound so filthy right now and he loves it, wants to make you moan louder. Wants to know he’s making you feel that good.

Y/N: Oh god, Gyu! You feel so good, fuck! You feel so fucking big

Mingyu: You’re taking my cock so good, baby. So tight and wet for me. Wanna make you cum all night

You loved that he was so vocal and so rough but at the same time gentle.

Y/N: I feel so full. Please

Mingyu: You looks so beautiful right now. On my cock, while I split you open

Mingyu: Want me to fuck you dumb, princess? Need me to make you forget about all the other cocks you had?

Y/N: Yesss, fuck!!! I’m coming

He feels you clench around his cock so tight that he can’t stop his own orgasm, releasing inside you deep and hard

Y/N: Shit! Fill me up, Gyu? Fill this pussy deep

You couldn’t believe what was coming out of your mouth. You felt like such a slut and you loved it. And he didn’t stop, he kept going with the thrusting. And you felt like the orgasms kept of coming. You were lucky that you could have multiple orgasms, sometimes they would not stop for minutes, and you had to take a break.

You kept on fucking for the next hour. You came multiple times and he came two more times inside you. He loved fucking his cum back into you. After this you two stopped and laid next to each other, sweaty and out of breath.

Y/N: Gyu?

Mingyu: You wanna go again?

Y/N: I want to suck you off

Mingyu: Shit, do whatever you want, baby

You went down, tracing wet spots with your tongue all over his body. He was putty under you and moaned so loud when you put his still hard cock in your mouth. You couldn’t take it all, it was too big, long and fat. You’re sure you’ll be sore for days after tonight.

Y/N: Want to cum in my mouth too, baby?

Mingyu: Fuck I want it so bad!

You keep on pumping his cock into your mouth, moving your mouth fast over his length. Moaning into his cock, sending vibrations throughout his whole body.

Mingyu: I’m going crazy here. You’re going to make me cum so hard

And he spills his seed down your throat, pulling your hair, arching his back off the bed and moaning so pretty. He looked fucking gorgeous when he came.

After you both settle down, breathing back to normal, you decide it’s time to clean up and you take a long hot shower. The sheets on the couch are ruined, so you sleep on your bed.

Y/N: Gyu?

Mingyu: Yes, princess

Y/N: What does this mean for us now? Will this ruin our friendship?

Mingyu: I have a confession. I’ve been in love with you since we met and I’ll be damned if I let you get away again. You’re finally mine now, if you want to be mine

Y/N: I do, Gyu, I do want that

You were not sure what you felt for him, but you knew he made you feel safe, he treated you good and made you cum 1000 times. Are you in love? What if his e comes back? He just cried for her a few hours ago, there must be some feelings there. You had so many questions and it was making it hard for you to know how you felt for him. Because he felt like he was surrounded by fog and you needed to fight it and make it go away with great effort. You knew he was a complicated man and you only hoped this will not break you again.

He didn’t let go of you the whole night and you thought you’ll never meet a more clingier man. In return, you showered him with kisses because he was just sweet like that.

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thermitetermite · 6 months

Text

I return from the grave for one night only to post a Helluva Boss AU. Enjoy my delulu AU about a Christmas tree capitalist clown spider demon and his adopted cyborg clown son.

Also there is swearing and mentions of Fizzaroli's accident.

Mammon being a half decent step-dad AU

Mammon hears about Fizz much earlier though the grapevine (Paimon complaining to all royal demons about how his son got rid of all their shit bc of some clown kid)

Interested, he attends a show in disguise.

He finds that Fizz is good. Like, really good! Dollar signs start popping up in his head. Also the little bugger kind of reminds him of himself.

Immediately asks to buy Fizz from Cash Buckzo. He refuses at first because Fizz is his star but with strong negotiating tactics (money and threats) he caves.

Fizz is nervous about leaving his only home behind but is excited to be "adopted" by Mammon! His hero!

It's giving bought by One Direction vibes

At first Mammon was planning to just train him to be a child actor/clown, give him a TV show and pawn him off to someone to actually raise full-time. He wanted to be the convenient step-dad, not a full time parent!

That changed after the first couple nights with Fizz living in his mansion.

It started with Fizz handing him a red balloon horse.

"Alright, not bad kid, but can ya make a balloon unicorn?"

Fizz ran off to attempt to make it. That'll keep him busy for a few hours, guess that meant he could make some calls and... He was back already with the completed unicorn.

"Give me another!"

"Uh, alright ya little bugger, why dontcha make a Quevie?"

This back and forth happened for the next few hours, with Mammon judging the balloon animal, giving a few pointers when he messed up, and Fizz making the next animal he asked for.

Damn, this parenting shit is easy.

It eventually got so late that Fizz fell asleep on the couch trying to complete a kangaroo.

Sighing, Mammon picked Fizz up and carried him to the bedroom he hired someone to decorate. He tucked him into bed and finally after an entire day was able to make a call.

However, the first call he made wasn't to the networking company or his broadcasting station. Instead, it was to Lucifer, his self proclaimed best friend and a successful parent.

"What is it Mammon? Do you have any idea how late it is?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just had a quick question for ya. What do children eat? Cereal? Oats? Ice cream?"

Needless to say, Lucifer had a long talk with Mammon about how to raise a kid, stating it'd be hard work.

After hanging up and going to bed, Mammon had only one thought on his mind. To raise this kid better than any of the other Sins could. His boy would be talk of the town and the best clown in all of Hell.

That first week of parenting went about as well as you'd expect.

Mammon had the approach of being "The fun step-dad" which included eating candy for every meal, teaching him swear words and showing him how to do all the tricks he thought a capable child could do.

(These tricks may or may not have included tax evasion and driving)

Speaking of, Mammon insisted on bringing Fizzaroli everywhere. Including work.

"Mammon, sir, I'm sorry for filing the paperwork for the expansion of LooLoo Land wrong- is that a child?"

"Yeah, this is my boy. Look attem. Ain't he talented!" Cue Fizz hanging off one of his arms. "Whatdya think Fizzie? Should we keep or fire him?"

"Fire!"

"You heard the boy! Off withya, ya bloody cunt!"

"Bloody cunt!"

Mammon would belly laugh whenever Fizzaroli would copy his swearing or accent. When is children swearing NOT funny?

Mammon's definitely the type to have tons of pictures in his wallet of his kid. Fizzaroli does get a TV show, lots of interviews and the spotlight often but whenever someone asks Mammon about him he immediately opens the photo wallet.

(He would kill anyone who even touched it)

Of course he still has some of the Mammon-ness we know, bribing and pushing Fizz to do shows, acts, commercials and more, causing Fizz to start getting overwhelmed.

Then one day Fizz's accident happened (it's a canon event)

Mammon practically broke down Belphagor's door when he got the news Fizz was hurt, demanding his boy get the best treatment in Hell.

Mammon didn't sleep for the entire time Fizz was in that hospital bed, sitting beside him for days at a time just thinking about how he nearly lost him. He couldn't lose him.

When Fizz woke up/was stable, Mammon was there during his emotional moments. When Fizz asked if Mammon would replace him he scoffed.

"Fizzie, why would I replace you? You're in recovery right now. A break. Yer fans are dying to see that Fizzie face when you get outta here. You're more popular and more in demand than ever. You do the recoverin and I'll show you the huge profit we return."

Mammon to English translation: It's stupid to think I'll leave. You'll be able to return to the stage, I'll make sure of it. You'll get better and I'll be here with you.

Fizz eventually recovered but needed limbs so Mammon sent a request (demand) to the best mechanic in Hell, Asmodeus. If anyone could make limbs for his boy it'd be that rooster fuck.

Of course just because Mammon had faith in him didn't mean he wasn't picky in what he delivered.

"Can ya loop your arm like a bendy straw?"

"Uh, no."

"Then it's not good enough for you!"

Mammon practically sent Asmodeus a list of limb adjustments and upgrades that needed to be done every other week. All other times he had Fizzie trying all these different therapies, practicing with his limbs, and occasionally try doing a trick. (Not clown car driving after last time). Eventually he was mostly satisfied with the work and to celebrate "Ozzie not *HONK*-ing up" he started teaching Fizz how to play the guitar.

Cue a bit of a time skip of say 7 years.

Fizz has his hands in nearly every facet of entertainment. News, sports, cooking competitions (which he surprisingly sucked at), and of course comedy. Fizz didn't want to say it but doing so much had him tired, stressed, and anxious. He was doing this for Mammon, the person who gave him everything. He couldn't just let him down. He'd seen what happened to those that failed him. All those people who got fired for mistakes they made. He couldn't fail.

At the same time Mammon wants to get into the robot doll industry. Not sex dolls because he can't stand the thought of his (boy) brand being sold like that. Instead personal assistance robots that have all the features. It can make coffee, teach you yoga, be a parent, etc. but of course he needs the mechanical help of Asmodeus again.

Once again Fizz is taking trips to Lust to oversee the production of the robots. After 2 years of this the robots are completed (a huge financial success) and Fizz asks Mammon if he can stay with Ozzie.

Mammon is surprised but ok with it as long as he visits and does a show every now and again. Especially guest judging the Clown Pageant.

He doesn't realize Fizz and Oz have a thing until the Clown Pageant (his final one in canon)

Once it comes out, oh boy, Mammon goes full demon mode. Shit gets ugly. Mammon goes on his normal rant (minus the "raised you like the son I didn't want" part) and Fizz, unwaivering because he's seen this a million times, retorts back with all the anxiety Mammon caused. The acting and shows. How it weighed on him. How he was so scared of fucking something up and getting kicked out.

"I'd never kick you out! You're the crown jewel of my empire! My runt turned pick of the litta! I made you in my image! If I pushed you hard it was because you could be better! I raised you! You've got my training in your back pocket so I knew you could be a better clown than I ever was! All of this was for you!"

Eventually Mammon breaks down and asks why Asmodeus. He's worried about their relationship considering he's known Asmodeus since the beginning of hell.

"Why do you need to date him when you have my empire! If you need money, we have it! If you need companionship, we can buy it! If you need power we have that too! We built this empire! Your talent brought in a fortune and you've seen how to run the business! If you need your own power or your own space you can have it!"

"I'm not with him for any of those things! I know I have everything else here! But I love him Mammon! He takes care of me. He's kind, sweet, handsome, and supports me even on my roughest days. I love him."

"...he makes you feel safe?"

"Yes."

"He treats you good?"

"He treats me amazingly."

"You love him?"

"With all my heart."

"...ok."

"Ok?"

"I... Respect your decision. I'm going to make it about me but please bear with me. I know I haven't been the best at raising you. I can be overbearing. And clingy. And I pushed you to do a lot of things that were hard or uncomfortable or er... greedy. I haven't been the best influence on your life but I did my best and if I had to I'd do it all over again."

"Mam..."

"Up up up, let me finish ya little shit. You know I have a hard time letting go of things. And I was kidding myself when I thought I'd have ya forever. I forgot how fast ya implings grow up. I thought I could keep ya safe and smilin but I couldn't even do that right. The second most painful thing I experienced in my life was gettin kicked from heaven. The most was seein you in that hospital bed. I've been smotherin ya since. Yer my boy and I wanted better for ya. Thought I could protect ya if I pushed harder. Taught ya more. Did more shit with ya. But in the end you were always gonna have ta leave ta find a life of yer own.

Mammon paused, taking a familiar but heavily deflated remnant of a red horse balloon from under his hat

"I'm at least glad ya took somethin after me. Yer greedy like me and ya landed the best bachelor Hell has ta offer. I... I don't want to let ya go but... Ya need to do this. Live yer life kid, and live it better than me."

The fucking stadium was in tears (me too tbh)

Before Fizz could say anything (he was choking on his words) Mammon extended a card with his sigil on it.

"Remember I'm always here. Please... Call me if ya need me."

Fizz wrapped his robotic limbs around Mammon, bringing him in for a tight hug.

"I love you, Dad."

Mammon cried on that stage, hugging the son he always wanted.

#helluva boss #fizzarolli #fizzaroli helluva boss #fizzmodeus #fizzarozzie #helluva boss mammon #ooc mammon #i just wanted to make a universe where a clown son gets a good clown dad #someone needs to give helluva boss more good father figures #helluva boss asmodeus #sorry Fizzmodeus takes a bit of a back seat

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romanarose · 8 months

Text

Darkness on the Edge of Town: Chapter 3

Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Chapter 1 : Chapter 2 Masterlist Join my taglis

Fic Summary: Right before a mandatory FEDRA lockdown, Joel saved a woman in an ally from FEDRA guards and is forced to house her for the entire lockdown. I.e theres only one bed

Chapter Summary: You and Joel pretend life is normal

Warning: SUBBIEST OF SUB JOEL, dirty talk, PIV sex, fingering, Joel being a bit worried he crossed a consent line given the circumstances but he didn't, uhhhhh thanks it? if i miss anything LMK

A/N did I return 4 months later? yes. Will it take another 4 months for the last chapter? I hope not. bc I actually have inspo lol. I had given up but then i got an anon asking for more which always perks me up, so, remember, if you like a fic thats been dead a while, politely tell the writer you are looking forward to more! (politely, do not demand)

**************

When you woke up, Joel’s arm was around you.

You suspected he was lonely, lonelier than he’d like to admit, and his subconscious sensed the warm body next to him and gravitated towards it. Briefly, you wondered if he had been married, if maybe his wife had died during or after the outbreak. Is that why he had pads in the bathroom? Had it been recent, or had he just not been willing to trade for them because he was secretly sentimental. You’d seen people get sentimental over a lot weirder things than pads.

You decided to just lay there, enjoying the warmth of his company, silent as ever but no less safe and strong and assuring. He was masculine and you were drawn to that, but a healthy masculinity, the kind where he was the strong silent type but he could not walk away from what was happening to you, no matter how much he wanted to. The kind that didn’t kick you out no matter how much you annoyed him. And yes, you were fully aware you annoyed him, because god, he was so fun to annoy. His grumpy little face, grumpy little frown, the grumpy little lines between his eyebrows you just wanted to kiss…

Images of last night flashed through your head, sucking on the fat tip of his cock, grinding yourself on his leg, the whimpers and shaky moans he made…

“Fuck!” Joel sat up, jolting awake and realizing her was entangled with you. “Sorry, fuck- shit fuck!” He ran both sets of fingers through his messy morning curls, his tan skin even showing a hint of flush at the embarrassment. He’s never seen him so uncertain.

“Joel, It’s okay” You reach for him and he flinches, making you pause… but when you reach for him again, slowly this time, he allows it.

He’s frozen, eyes wide and sad and soft all at once, a new look. Guilt. “I shouldn’t have done that and I should not have let last night happen and-”

“Joel…” You chuckle softly, not mocking him, not belittling his concerns, but merely from the warmth in your heart that such a hardened man could be so soft hearted. “Last night happened because you and I both wanted it.”

“But I shouldn’t have done that to you”

“You didn’t do anything to me. I offered, I wanted to, and if I remember correctly, I did most of the work” You give him a quick wink and he relaxes just a bit. “Joel, I had already made it to adulthood when this outbreak happened. I am not a child, or a mentally stunted youth. I’ve survived this long because I am strong. I know you had to save me, and that’s why you probably view me as someone vulnerable and in need of protection but that’s just not the truth. I appreciate you being considerate, but I really don’t need to be coddled.” You watch as the words settle on his, the gears turning in his head. “Do you regret last night?”

Joel considered this… He felt like he should… but he didn’t. “No”

You give him a smile. “I don’t either. It was fun, you’re hot, I’m hot, we fulfilled a natural urge. And… We’re still stuck together…” Letting go of his hand, you plant both of your palms on bed, positioning yourself on all fours. “So who’s to say it won’t happen again?” With a quip of your mouth, you tease him slowly crawling forward as his eyes darken with desire. In a few moments, you are face to face, your own eyes boring into his milk chocolate ones as you see his need for you, the way he’s fighting with himself. You wondered if he had been religious, if that was the reason he felt this guilt. Did he have a daughter? Did he know someone that had been taken advantage of? These were thing you wanted to know about the sweet, gruff man in front of you… but right now, the main thing you wanted to know was if he could stretch your vagina the way he stretched your mouth last night.

The impulse must’ve won over, because Joel leaned forward, kissing you, attempting to gain some sort of control over the situation.

But you knew Joel a decent amount by this point, been able to glean a vague map of his personality from the glimpses you got into his psyche and you knew what he needed. Joel mother fucking Miller did not need control. He needed to let go.

So you help him with that.

Hands firm on his slightly softened chest, still hardened with physical labor but a little squish from age, you push him down gently, never breaking the kiss and you claim his mouth for your own and guide him to lay down. Laying there for a while, you don’t push anything, allowing the moment to do its work. You had to be gentle with a man like Joel. Firm and clear, to be sure, but careful. He’d be spooked away easily, and the last thing you wanted was to add to his nerves. Joel just submitted… so easily.

Emboldened by the make out and the way you ground your body against him, Joel slips his hands down your pants- his pants- and begins to massage your mound. Joel may enjoy letting go, but he is no stranger to pleasing a woman, and he quickly had you moaning into his mouth.

“Can I ride you, Joel? Please?” You beg for his permission, ready to put the built muscles of hard work to use on him.

“Oh god, yes” Joel is eager for you, ready to feel the warmth of a woman for the first time in god knows how long. He feels you begin to move to climb on top, but he instead pushes you down, angling his body above yours for a flash of dominance. You look up at him all bright-eyed and ready, but he had your comfort in mind. Sliding his hands down your pants once more, Joel plays with your pussy lips before asking permission. “Let me open you up first.” He didn’t want to sound braggadocious, but he was aware of his size.

When you agreed, Joel wasted no time and slid 2 long, thick fingers right inside you, curling up each time he pumped inwards. You hum in appreciation as he continued kissing your neck.

“Can I mark you, beautiful?” Joel asked, taking a light nibble on the soft flesh off your neck so it was clear what he wanted to mark.

“Yesyesyesyesyesyes pleeeeaasssee” In rapid succession, you not only grant him permission but beg him to make you his, if only for now, if only for this week, you were his and he was yours. You buck your hips up subtly to meet his hand, feeling the warmth bubbling inside you.

Joel began to suck on your neck, nibbling a bit on your shoulder to test the grounds and when you moan, he bites harder… and harder… and harder until you scream out his name and he attempts to pull away, afraid he hurt you, but your death grip on his hair keeps him latched onto you, pressing his teeth further into your skin. You cum around his fingers with a death grip, Joel’s body rutting against yours.

As you came down from your high, Joel disengaged from the attachment but never from your skin for more than a second, licking and sucking and kissing over that bleeding spot. With the slow of your heavy breaths, you could hear his desperate whines from his throat.

“Joel, Joel, baby” You force him to look at you, his eyes wet and mouth bloody, worried he did something wrong. “Goddamn…” You surge forward, just desperate to kiss him again, unable to be away from him for more than a moment to breathe, sometimes you didn’t even want that, perfectly happy to suffocate together and die like this. As you kiss, you guide him to lay down, taking off your pants as well as his, you climb on top and straddle his slutty little waist.

His obscenely large hands tug at your shirt. “Off, please? Please, please I need- fuck, I need to see you.”

Happy to oblige the handsome man under you, you place your hands over his and tighten them to a grip on your shirt. Guiding him, you allow him to pull the shirt over your body and you smile at the awe in his face. Joel paws at your breasts and you slide your slick core over his hard cock that rested against his belly.

“In my mouth” Joel begs, and you need to ask what he wants to suck on, his eyes are trained on your tits. “Need them in my mouth, please.”

You lean over, and Joel quickly takes your right nipple in his mouth, making the sounds of your pleasure fill the room. “Eager boy” You coo at him, tugging gently on his hair just to hear those needy whimpers again. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

While he remains otherwise occupied, you line his fat tip up at your entrance and slowly, slowly work your way down his length.

Joel’s lips let go of his ministrations on your tits, his head hanging back as he groans your name loudly. His palms find your ass, the sheer size of them spread out nearly covering the whole expanse, and with a bruising grip he begins to rock you on his cock.

“So goddamn tight, fuck”

You would be, you hadn’t had sex in god knows how long. Not the best pickings right now in the men department.

“You close, Joel?” You tease him. “Been so long inside a pussy, you’re gonna just cum right after sliding in?” Working those leg muscles, you begin to bounce on him, rewarding you with a moan and a tight scrunch of his face. He was trying his hardest not to embarrass himself by cumming in seconds, but you found it unbelievably hot. Making it your mission to make him cum, you lean backwards and brace yourself against his strong, meaty thigh and reach until you find what you're looking for; his hairy, sweaty balls. You play with them, rolling them around in your hand and finding the right rhythm until he’s bucking up his hips.

“Ho-o-o-o-o-oly shit! FUUUUUCK! You’re gonna- FUCK! You gotta stop that, you’re gonna make me- ohhhh, fuuuuck!” He’s practically thrashing beneath you. It was salacious, seeing his broad, strong body so submissive for you, beyond erotic seeing him an absolute mess for you, such a far cry from the man who rescued you that first day. That Joel was strong, dominant, in charge and clear headed. The Joel you had now? This Joel was submissive, fucked out and writhing, completely at you mercy.

The power of a good blowjob.

This Joel needed you to take care of him, and take care of him you would.

You continued bouncing off him, Joel’s hands having moved to the sheets for fear of hurting you with his grip, and he was trying to best to hold on to his own orgasm… but when he opened his eyes to see your cheeky, grinning face smiling down at him… he knew your were playing with him, and he couldn't help but smile back.

“Fucking brat!” But he was smiling, thrusting up into you and pawing at your breasts, bound and determined to make you cum before him.

Both of your attempts to make the other cum first backfired, both of you cumming at the same time. You scream his name while Joel shouts obscenities, not doubt irritating the neighbors trapped in the same apartment complex with you both all week. Exhausted, your sweaty body slumps over his, and you are delighted to feel his arms wrap protectively over you. It was good to know he wouldn’t turn straight back into the Joel you had known before right after shooting his cum inside you.

“Probably should’ve pulled out, huh?”

“You seemed a little preoccupied.” Always gotta be a pain in his ass.

“Go to sleep, you’re less annoying that way.” His voice was gruff but quite and his grip on you remained steadfast.

“Wait until I start sleep talking. You’ll never be rid of this mouth.”

“Oh Jesus.”

In his arms, you fall back asleep, his cock still inside you, but you don't care. None of it mattered. Not the circumstances of why you were here, not all the times he ignored you, not the dingy apartment room or the drool and cum and sweat on the sheets, swirling around the room and permeating your nose. In times like these you learn to take love where you can get it. Not that you thought you were in love, no. You weren’t stupid. But there was a version of love here, in this act, and affection that didn’t exist in the late night hook ups, meet ups where you were pressed against an alleyway by someone whose name you didn’t even know because intimacy more than penetration hurt. This was something different. Something fleeting and short and ill-timed but gentle and caused your heart to swell in just the right way. For this week, you could live in a bubble with Joel, just to have a taste of normalcy for a few godforsaken days. Both of you deserved it.

You dreamt during your nap. You dreamed most nights of a life you could never have again. A life of drinks and fun and holidays, family, rest, 40 hour work weeks… simple things. Tonight you were at a bar, at an open mic night, the sound of guitar playing and muffled singing ringing in your ears as you begin to stir awake, the sounds of the dream bleeding into real life.

‘Oh yeah, life goes on long after the thrill of live’n is gone‘

A blanket is tucked tightly over your, protecting your modesty despite Joel seeing you naked before. A gentleman, that one, no matter how much he tries to act like that part of him died. When you finally drag your eyes open, curious if you’re just plain hallucinating the singing of the John Melloncamp song, you are surprised to see the back of Joel’s chair with his salt and pepper hair popping over the top and the head of his guitar coming out of the side.

Joel was playing guitar for you.

Turning to the right to find your previously discarded clothes, instead find a fresh pair of sweats and a flannel laid out for you. Joel’s music pauses as he hears the rustling of the bed, but he continues, blending the song into an acoustic version of Simply the Best, the strum of his guitar much more pleasant a wake up than you’ve gotten since childhood. Instead of the sweats, you opt to steal a pair of boxers.

As he sings, you walk up behind him to wrap your arms around his chest, and he accu

“Now darl’n, did you purposely only button two buttons on this flannel just to- god dammit, ain’t even wearing pants.” He sounds like he’s grumbling, but you know him better by now. Although you adore the music, you take the guitar out of his hands and carefully lay it on the floor before straddling his lap.

“Can we just pretend?”

He didn’t need to ask what you meant. “Yeah we can pretend.”

Just for this week, you were a normal couple in the year 2003, having a stay-cation. Maybe American would come on, maybe you’d make him rewatch Sex and the City. All that was up in the air. Right now, you were just waking up and wearing his clothes like everything was normal and the outside didn’t exist.

You spent the whole day and the next talking. Joel wasn’t surprised by that; it was all you had done this whole week, even when you two fucked your mouth was running. Unless, of course, he had you occupied with his dick. Most of the time was spent talking about things from before, but only in a vague sense. He never mentioned Tommy or Sarah, and he didn’t know what family you have or had. He told you he did construction, you told him you liked Star Wars.

“At least we got to see Episode III before the outbreak. I wouldn’t be able to stand the suspense. I think I’d hunt down George Lucas and ask him what happened.”

Shirtless from your last fuck, Joel strummed his guitar while you talked, light and airy as to not seem like he was playing over you, but giving the room a relaxed, fun ambiance. “You think Goerge Lucas is alive?”

“I dunno, I think a lot of those rich guys are.”

“Maybe the ones with money and political connections. Like Swartzanagger. Or a Kennedy.”

“I met Natalie Maines”

“No shit?”

“Yeah. It’s so weird. Last I heard of her country stations were boycotting her music because she said something against George Bush. No wonder she was shoveling shit in Philly.”

Joel hummed in agreement, stating that Sarah Michelle Geller lives in the Boston QZ. Before the conversion could continue, you both hear a shout from the window.

“MILLER!”

“God fucking dammit.” Joel set his guitar aside, digging for his discarded shirt to go to the window, but saw you headed right for it. He shouted your name, but you didn’t listen. You never fucking do. He scrambled to pulling the gray shirt over himself, before shoving you aside just as you pull up the window.

Fucking Ross was below.

“What the fuck do you want, Ross” He calls below, continuously trying to push you away from the window while you pushed right back, bickering with him. He didn’t want you anywhere in shooting distance.

Ross and several other guards were standing there, arms.

“3 days left, Miller. What’s the plan?” When Joel didn’t answer, Ross continued. “You can’t keep her up there forever.”

Annoyed, Joel raised an arm to the window pane and cocks and eyebrow at the young man. “You still on about this? Can’t get pussy anywhere else?”

You peak out from under Joel’s arm, grinning even through Joel’s knee was trying to shove you away.

Ross wasn’t having it, raising his Joel.

Immediately, Joel’s body tackled you down and out of the way.

“SOON AS SHE’S OUT OF THAT APARTMENT, SHE’D RIGHT BACK WHERE SHE STARTED, MILLER!”

Joel waited, body covering over yours with a protective heaviness unless the footsteps and chatter retreated… but then he stayed, he stayed over you, as if as soon as you stood up you’ll be taken from him and the first sense of normal since Sarah’s death will be ripped apart.

He tucked his head into your neck, not ready to give up defeat… but unsure what to do. You weren’t safe. He didn’t save you.

“Joel…” You ask him, still pressed into the hardwood floor but not complaining. “What am I gonna do…”

*************

Thank you to the person who sent the anon saying they'd love more. that gave me so much motivation,

@trinkets01 @ninebluehearts@luciannadraven33 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @buriednurbckyrd @hiroikegawa @whatthefishh @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @koshkaj-blog

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou hbo #joel miller hbo #joel miller pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #eventual smut #joel miller series #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Darkness on the edge of town #pedro pascal smut #joel miller reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller you #joel miller x you

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jacksprostate · 4 months

Text

Before Project Mayhem, before fight club, before Marla, before Tyler — there is still one sad sack of shit.

The hard part about work trips isn't making the plane or seeing another family of five burnt into their leather seats. It's missing support groups.

See, if you're lucky, the company will send you out to a major city. Cities are great. A little advanced work to find a slightly below average church or library, you're set each night you're there.

It's a bit of novelty, getting to be a new face all at once. People assume you've just been diagnosed. It's never the failed treatments, the degradation of their life and everyone in it, the continuous experience of knowingly dying — none of those things are the worst thing that happens to you.

It's finding out they will.

So people cry. They crowd around, I sob like I've been told I've got stage four colon cancer and three weeks to live. We all cry. I sleep soundly on the plane back or in the nice, four star hotel my company provides me.

Flying out to a small town, though. I'll be awake enough to be hallucinating by the time I get back for Remaining Men Together. The only mercy is that the next time I show for all the groups I missed, I can see who thought I died. I get to be resurrected.

The other part about small towns, you have to take a second, shitter plane to a local airfield, or you have to take a rental car. One of the most popular rental cars available right now, it'll light itself on fire if you use the cruise control at the wrong time. I know this because I sat next to another guy with my job, who worked for a different company, and he said I'll show you mine if you show me yours. So I told him about the faulty airbags, and he told me about the overheating switch.

I prefer to avoid driving.

All the rental place at the airport has left for me, it's one of those flaming cars. I use cruise control. If I don't, one of my narcoleptic spells will send me into the Jersey barrier.

When you drive into these small towns, you have to try to pay attention, or you'll end up a county over talking about the wrong wreck. They're otherwise interchangeable, but the miles on your rental car won't line up and those are the type of records that might get pulled out when the company is finally sued for the big one ten years down the line.

As a result, I see the same decor on the way in every time. Meth lab. Abandoned homes. Garbage fire. Classic Americana. There is no four star hotel here; I sleep the same.

The only reason I've been brought out here is because the poor shithead who drove his truck into the ditch drunk was driving my company's flagship vehicle. It loses power steering if the car jostles the right way going above 55 miles per hour. I've been told to keep track of potential incidents and make sure the company can firmly claim it's not at fault.

We've had this problem for decades, and we will for many more. Sometimes, everything is falling apart.

The job is simple, and I only get tempted by the town's blatant opioid addiction for a day and night. Painkillers would probably make me sleep. The thing about being a recall campaign organizer, though, is like recognizes like. It's not only other Compliance and Liability guys who tell you company secrets while sharing the aisle in business class.

When I'm finally back in my own town, after my own support groups, after crying my eyes out into Bob's meaty middle — I pick up my mail. There's the newest IKEA magazine. Half of it looks like shit. The type of thing you'd only see in some curated art deco, modernist, post-modern traditionalist bohemian minimalist apartment.

I have to have it.

I go to sleep, hard, like God himself tucked me in. I sleep with my wallet net four hundred heavier, because even an IKEA spree tends not to outweigh a work trip. I sleep, with my called in IKEA goods only two short weeks away, my job well done, and I know, my life is complete.

#fight club #my writing #KEY INFO: this is Before Tyler #bit experimental as a result. how to peel away some of the narratorisms but have him still be the narrator? how to make him complacent #like a wisconsin dairy cow but still have undertones of extreme conscious and subconscious distress?#all car faults mentioned are real #ford had an overheating cruise control switch #and some other overheating fire switches #and jeep. i know because i knew a guy with a jeep — they randomly lose pwoer steering sometimes #horrific and scary and potentially deadly in any car — but jeeps have this known and bizzarely widely accepted flaw called the death wobble #which refers to the oscillations that rapidly feed on each other if the car is slightly out of tune #and can result in tearing the steering wheel from your hands #until you slow down #for some reason that's just accepted.#theres a lot of jeep propaganda #anyway you combine those two #you get the picture #i dont doubt theres been incidents even if there hasnt been major recalls lol #i hope this one comes across well... it's always strange to explore an almost hypothetical version of a character. the narrator where Tyler #is just a growing little menace in his head....#I think what made this one fun for me though is the narrator would still be pretty openly bleak I think but the SUBCONSCIOUS stuff.#especially all the stuff I implied at the end. very fun to write #and it was also just fun to lay down the like.... seeds. of things #this is before Tyler in the sense that it's before he was well cooked. Before they met. Etc. Pretty early into the support groups. But yk #he is sleeping.

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absurdthirst · 1 year

Text

Boyfriend for Hire {Ezra x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 21.1k

Warnings: Modern AU, escort work, technically prostitution, oral sex (female and male receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, masturbation, angst, miscommunication

Comments: When you are instructed to bring your boyfriend to the company New Year's party, you have a problem. He doesn't actually exist. Hiring Ezra, an escort who provides companionship for those who can afford it, turns into something far different than what you imagined.

A/N: Happy late New Year!!!!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

Thank you @thewaythisis for finding the pic I wanted.

|| MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“I hope all of you have a wonderful holiday season with your families.” You stare down at your checklist for the end of year board meeting and halfway turn out, knowing you will be working through the holiday to get ahead on some projects that will be happening in the year to come. “That brings me to our New Year’s Eve party.” The CEO captures your attention and you look up as he smiles happily. “This year, I’ve decided to host a party for all of our execs and junior execs. I want all of you to be there.” He turns towards you. “We can finally meet this mysterious beau you keep talking about but we never see you bring to work functions.”

Panicking slightly but trying to remain calm, you shake your head. “Uh, we have plans for the New Year.” You protest, making him frown.

“Unless you are out of town, which you’ve already said you will be here, I expect all of my employees there.” He decrees. Shit….now you have to pull a non-existent boyfriend out of thin air.

Ezra looks away from his laptop when his phone begins to ring, his work phone. He takes off his glasses and sets them down before he pushes the green button to answer the call. “Hello?” He answers after clearing his throat.

“Um, hello. Is this Ezra?” A woman asks and Ezra smiles at how nervous she sounds.

“This is he.” He responds, tapping his fingers on his desk.

“I, um, I got your number from a friend. I have a New Year party to attend and I need a man to go with me…to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Ezra bites his lip to smother his chuckle at that, “that’s my speciality, little bird. Shall we meet for a drink and see if I’m a good fit?” He suggests.

“Ye-yes. That sounds good.” Ezra lets you pick the time and place and after telling you he will be there, he hangs up with a smirk. He has a job for New Year’s Eve. Perfect.

You fidget as you wait, choosing a high top table away from the rest of the bar, your drink in front of you medicinal to keep you from jumping out of your skin. You know what you are. What you are perceived as. A workaholic. A bitch boss who demanded too much of your team and only cared about your career.

It was true, you were career focused and you didn’t think it was a bad thing. However, when everyone started asking about your personal life, because apparently separation of work and home life doesn’t exist anymore, you had lied. Made up what sounded like the perfect man, at least not anyone you had ever dated. Now you need to produce this wonderful person and you have no clue how to go about it without hiring someone. You’ve not been on a date in years and you don’t really want to. Men are always insecure when they realize you hold more power or make more money, or whatever seems to emasculate them. “Shit.” You hiss, lifting your drink to your lips with a slight tremble to your hand.

Ezra spots the red dress you said you’d be wearing and makes his way over to the table, adjusting his jacket as he confidently strides over to you. “You must be my date for the evening.” He offers you the most charming smile he can muster as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “Ezra, at your service.” He declares and takes a seat opposite you, admiring you for a moment. You’re beautiful, not the usual elderly woman he is escorting to boring social events. You’re gorgeous in fact and he smiles, knowing this won’t be a difficult date for him unless you are an absolute bitch.

You introduce yourself and then lean back as the waiter comes over to take Ezra’s drink order, giving you a moment to observe him. He’s elegant, far more than what you expected. None of the greasy appeal you had assumed you would have to deal with. His date casual outfit looked like it would belong at any high class country club, although the blonde streak in his otherwise russet hair is shocking in its charm. “Ma’am? Another?” You break away from looking at Ezra and stare down at your ice.

“Please.” You murmur and wait for Ezra to speak as the man walks away to fulfill the drink orders.

“So…New Year’s Eve? A work shindig. Tell me little bird, what kind of man are you searching for to accompany you to the party? I am well versed in being whatever gentleman you require. You give me the details and I will play whatever part you desire.”

Twisting in your chair, you pull out your notebook, having written down everything you’ve told your colleagues about this fictitious boyfriend. Sighing as you open it and turn it around to hand to him. “This is what I’ve told them about my…lover.” Boyfriend seems so very juvenile to say and you swallow harshly, waiting for him to scoff at the unrealistic spin you’ve woven.

Ezra takes the notebooks, reading your bullet points and he bites his lip at the imaginative meeting between you and your “lover” until he reads what your beau enjoys, how he treats you. “Chérie, you might’ve discovered the most perfect man on the planet.” He jokes softly and you sigh, reaching for the notebook.

“I know I embellished but I- I wanted you - him - to sound good.”

Ezra pulls the book away from your reach, “I didn’t say it was impossible to create. I am a talented actor, I can assure you that this man will be attending your party with you. I can be this man but…I’m not cheap.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to say that price doesn’t matter, but what kind of executive would you be if you gave away your negotiating power? “What would be your cost? Expenses? What would I be paying for?” You ask, tucking the notebook back into your large bag and looking over to see the waiter bringing the drinks back to your table.

Ezra smiles and thanks the waiter for the drinks, pausing the conversation, then he looks back at you while he lifts his drink. “Cheers, Chérie.” He smiles and clinks his glass against yours. “I’m not cheap. I am very discreet. I am good at what I do. I guarantee by the end of the night everyone will be convinced that I am in fact your lover. Three thousand. For the night.” He tells you his price, knowing it’s high but he’s good at what he does.

He is pricey, especially when you consider what the going rate for escorts is. You aren’t blind, you’ve seen the expense reports for some of your male counterparts, claiming it as ‘entertainment’. However, you aren’t looking for sex, you want a sophisticated man to be able to charm those around you and give a convincing performance. You take a sip of your drink, contemplating the idea. “Agreed, I will pay you half upfront and half at the end of the night. However, if you are not convincing, I will keep the other half.”

Ezra smirks, liking your moxie, and he shifts to lean closer to you, “oh don’t you fret, little bird. You’re gonna be thrilled by the end of the night.” He lifts his glass towards you and takes a sip of his drink. Leaning back in his seat, he’s excited to spend the New Year with you.

****

As part of the package, Ezra picks you up in the town car he hired for the evening. A friend of a friend has a company and he has a deal with them. A few hundred bucks isn’t much when he’s making thousands. He knocks on the door of your ridiculously posh apartment and waits for you to answer, adjusting his bow tie to ensure he looks suitable for your beau.

Putting in your earrings, you quickly walk to the door and open it. “I-“ stopping mid-sentence, you take in the polished suit and the way that his hair is even more carefully styled. “You look fantastic.” You murmur. “Let me get my purse and wrap.”

Ezra nods, hanging by your front door. He doesn’t want to intrude and he waits patiently for you to come into the hallway after you lock your front door. “You look exquisite, chérie. I will surely be the envy of every man in the room.” He reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the back of it. “Shall we go? The car is waiting.” He extends his arm after letting go of your hand, excited to remember all the tidbits he’s been memorizing since your meeting a few days ago.

Nervous as you take his arm, you allow Ezra to walk you towards the elevators. “Have you memorized the key points?” You ask softly, the clicking of your shoes on the marble floors the only thing you can hear beyond your quiet conversation. “When we met, first date?”

“We met in that coffee shop over on Desmond Street. Brewsters. We bumped into each other during the morning rush and that was it. I took you to dinner at Le Mar and brought you roses. We kissed that night but nothing else. We’ve been dating for ten months. It’s been bliss. I took you to the fair and bought you that pretty bracelet you’re wearing for your birthday. I know your middle name. I know where you were born. I know the town you grew up in. Trust me, baby, I am a professional.” He pushes the button to call the car, turning to look at you. He reaches up to caress your face.

Suitably impressed, you wonder why your cheeks heat up when he touches your cheek. “You have a scar.” You just realize it, seeing the thin, silvery scar on the apple of his left cheek. “Where did you get it? In case anyone asks, of course.” You don’t mention that you think that it’s charming, giving him an almost roguish appearance that makes you think of old fashioned duals for honor with his syrupy accent.

Ezra chuckles softly, “serving this country. I was lucky that’s all I got. I nearly lost my arm. Was shot a few times but made it through. You should probably mention that I was an army man. Might win some of those bigwigs you associate with over. They always appreciate a man in uniform I’ve found.” He snorts, remembering the amount of times he’s seen lust in their eyes imagining him in a uniform while their wives stood beside them for appearances. You press the button for the ground floor and Ezra stands beside you after you drop his arm.

“Oh.” You murmur to him. “Sorry.” You don’t know what to say to that. Instead, the silence settles between you as your elevator car takes you down and you step out into the ground floor. You take a deep breath, wishing you could just stay on your couch in your leggings and work on reports while watching the New Year’s Eve program on TV and drink the wine you had bought and the nibble on the little charcuterie board you had ordered with your groceries on a whim.

Ezra shakes his head, stopping you walking for a moment. “Hush. You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t send me to my death. Those bastards did. Let’s make this an amazing night for you.” He cups your cheek and leans in to softly peck your lips. “Come on chérie, let’s go impress your coworkers.” He winks and takes your hand to guide you to the town car.

“Thank you.” Ezra helps you into the car and slides in beside you as the driver closes the door. You are impressed that he went to the lengths that he has with ordering a car. You had half expected to have to order an Uber. “Where did you grow up?” You ask curiously. “Is your accent authentic or…dramatic?”

Ezra smirks, “I’m not that good an actor. I’m from Louisiana. Born and raised until I joined the army and left for good. Moved here about five years ago after my - my incident. You like the accent? Or no?” He asks, watching you as the car pulls away from the curb towards the hotel your company picked out for the event.

“I like it.” You assure him, reaching over and patting his thigh before remembering yourself and pulling your hand back.

“Don’t.” Ezra grabs your hand and pulls it back. “We would be comfortable touching each other, chérie.” He reminds you. “You have paid a lot of money to be with your ‘lover’ tonight.”

You bite your lip, shyly looking away and clearing your throat. “You must think I am ridiculous, needing to hire you to pretend to be my lover.” You murmur. “I - I concentrate on work, not men.”

“That’s smart. Men fuck everything up. Men complicate things. You’re a smart girl, focusing on you and your work. The right man…he will come along eventually. I understand the pressure, the way people question you constantly. As a woman, you’re expected to settle down and marry, be with a man and have the American dream but not everyone is made for that. Some don’t want the man, some don’t want the kids, some don’t want the house. It’s 2022 for God’s sake, women should be able to do whatever they damn well want.” He says with conviction, “I’m - I mainly attend functions with older women whose husbands have passed.”

That catches your curiosity, wondering if he is some sort of a con man. Swindling sweet old ladies out of their money with sweet nothings and attention. “How did you decide to become an..an escort?” You lower your voice, not wanting to say it too loudly even though the window of the town car was up.

Ezra sighs, "um, it's a long story but the short version? I got out and back here I had physical therapy and therapy...lots of it. By the time I was healed, I couldn't find a job so I moved to the big city. When I got here, I got in touch with some friends who put me in touch with an older woman who wanted company - no sex just company - and from there, she referred me and so on. It pays well and no one cares about my résumé."

“Fascinating.” You truly mean that. It’s not like you are unaware of people paying for company, hell, you are doing it now. But his story on how he came to get into this is interesting. The things he must see and here while he’s providing entertainment are sure to be noteworthy. “Have you ever had disagreements with your clients?”

“Sometimes. Not everyone is a fit but as long as the terms are laid out, we don’t tend to have a lot of issues or complications. Communication is key so if you don’t like something, you need to tell me, chérie.” He orders softly, offering you an accompanying smile.

“I don’t understand why they wanted to do this on New Year’s Eve.” You huff even though you do know why. It’s an opportunity to get drunk and party, writing it off as a corporate expense. “I don’t like being out on nights like these.” You admit quietly, looking out the window at the crowded streets.

Ezra snorts, “I have always had a hatred for the new year. Another year wasted.” He sighs just as the car pulls up and he shifts to get out, holding his hand out for you to exit the car. He smiles at you, shifting into character as he prepares to face your coworkers and bosses.

Stepping out of the car, you’re nervous. All of this could be a disaster, what where you thinking? This was insane, you should have just told them you broke up with your mystery boyfriend but it’s too late now. Ezra’s hand is a lifeline and you cling to it, never really liking social functions. For work was fine, but you hate small talk and know that they will be judging you - and the man you brought.

Ezra squeezes your hand, noticing how stiff you have gone. “Relax, chérie. I’ll take care of you.” He promises, knowing it’s his job to take care of you but also, part of him wants to make sure this night goes well. You seem like a good woman despite your workaholic tendencies and he wants to ensure you impress your bosses. Walking into the ballroom, Ezra is impressed at the display and immediately a man approaches you, saying your name.

“Charles.” You smile warmly, reaching out to the CEO of the company as he stops in front of you. “You said to be here and here I am.” You chuckle and shake his hand, motioning to Ezra beside you. “And I have brought my significant other, as requested.” You introduce the two to one another quickly.

Ezra extends his hand after letting go of you, shaking your boss’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you sir. My chérie has told me good things about you.” He offers a charming smile and Charles chuckles, “all good I hope?” He asks and Ezra nods, taking your hand in his again. “Of course. My lady works hard for your company. Workin’ all hours of the day and away from me.” He pouts playfully and leans in to kiss your cheek.

You hum, tilting your head as if it is a kiss you receive everyday rather than this being the first time. “Well, you know I love my job.” You smile and look back at Charles. “The party looks like a success, everyone is having fun.” Code for quickly getting smashed but it’s not sloppy yet.

Ezra lets go of your hand and wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “Yes. Yes. You should go have fun. Ezra…it was a pleasure to meet you.” Charles smiles and Ezra nods back, “come on chérie, let’s go get a glass of champagne.” Ezra guides you to the bar, gesturing for the bartender. “I think that went well.” He murmurs, leaning close to you so it looks like he’s murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

“Yes it did.” You look around the room, already ready to leave. Allowing Ezra to order for you, you are happily surprised when he orders a good vintage of champagne. If he is hanging around older, wealthy women, he would most likely have developed good taste and you appreciate it.

Ezra thanks the bartender and hands you the flute, lifting his own up. “To 2023.” He smiles, clinking his glass with yours. “I think it would be appropriate for me to kiss you…if you will allow it.” He adds, not wanting to overstep however, he can feel eyes on him and he wants to make a good impression.

You bite your lip for a brief second before you nod. You’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t wondered if he was a good kisser. The little crease in his bottom lip very distracting and you’ve glanced at several times. “I think a moderate kiss would be appropriate right now.” You murmur, knowing you don’t want to cause a scene.

There’s a part of Ezra that wants to kiss you, the way your lips part and the small furrow in your brow has him ready to kiss you silly. He doesn’t kiss during his usual bookings, most of the women are older and don’t require that of him. He gently grips your chin with his free hand, leaning in and his eyes meet yours for a brief moment until he closes them to press a soft kiss to your lips.

It steals your breath. Making your eyes glitter and your hand reaches up to grip his shoulder. Nearly overwhelmed just from the petal soft feel of his lips against yours. It’s not demanding, but you yield anyway, the softest moan echoing in your throat.

Your moan makes Ezra deepen the kiss a little. Sliding his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment until he pulls back and kisses the corner of your mouth. “Well, isn’t this adorable?” Cynthia, one of your department managers comes over to see you. “This must be the beau you’ve mentioned before. Though we never caught his name.” She clicks her tongue and Ezra extends his hand after lowering it from your chin.

“Ezra, pleasure to meet you.” He offers her a charming smile while keeping his posture aligned towards you.

You and Cynthia never really see eye to eye. She has some kind of grudge against you since you were promoted over her although she didn’t have the skill set for your job. “Cynthia.” You nod politely and smile. “Where is your husband? I’m sure Ezra would like to meet him.” Her husband is boorish, but you have to pretend to enjoy his company to play nicely.

“Oh he has a work meeting. He’s been so busy.” She waves it off and Ezra frowns, “work meeting? It’s New Year’s Eve.” He takes a sip of his champagne and pulls you close with his free arm. “It’s a shame he left his beautiful wife to see in the New Year alone.” He tuts, “I would surely perish if I wasn’t able to kiss my beautiful girl at midnight.”

You fluster, slapping at his chest lightly as you feel the heat creep up your cheeks. “You always say the most outrageous things.” You tease, like he is always showering you with praise. Your perfect man would, even though he is a figment of your imagination brought to life by paying Ezra three thousand dollars.

Ezra grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss on your skin. “I merely speak the truth, mon chérie.” He coos, nudging his nose against your hairline.

Cynthia narrows her eyes slightly, “I can’t believe we are finally meeting Ezra. I thought she had made you up. You seemed too good to be true.”

She raises her eyebrows when Ezra shakes his head, “she’s focused on her work and we like to keep our private life just that. Private.”

You don’t like the tone of Cynthia’s voice, but you bite your lip and lean into Ezra’s side. “He is my little escape from work when I need it. So I keep him away from our office.” You don’t like the accusation in her comments, especially because they are true.

Cynthia hums, “very well. We had better mingle. I know everyone is just dying to meet your Ezra. Come on, let’s go mingle.” She reaches for Ezra’s hand and he pulls away from her.

“I’ll let my partner lead tonight. We will need another drink before we continue our exploration around the room. Pleasure to meet you Cynthia.” He says a little sharply and she huffs before striding off. “I can see why you decided to indulge in a fantasy boyfriend.” He murmurs in your ear then kisses your neck when he catches the eyes of your coworkers now speaking to Cynthia.

“She is very competitive.” You snort, closing your eyes slightly in pleasure. “I’ve never seemed to understand why, but she wants to prove that I wasn’t the right fit for the position. She wanted it. Or wants it.” You indulge yourself and lean in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for being here. I know you technically have to be, but thank you.”

Ezra wraps his arm around you and gestures for the bartender to order you another round. “I might have to be here but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He tells you truthfully, “you are a beautiful, smart woman and you deserve a perfect New Year’s Eve. You deserve your coworkers to know you are dearly loved and adored. You should be. You’re a good woman.” He murmurs, caressing your waist.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt such a strong attraction to someone. Your stomach clenches and you feel your pussy bottom out. “You are engaging and attractive, so I will take your words as the highest compliment.” You promise him, picking up your champagne glass when the bartender brings it and taking a small sip. You don’t like to get too drunk, but the bubbly is delicious.

Ezra grins, glad to hear that, and he looks over his shoulder as the band starts to play. He reaches for your glass, setting it down on the bar and he grabs your hand. “Let’s dance, chérie. I want to show you off to your coworkers.” He guides you onto the dance floor, pulling you close into his arms.

This is completely different than any other time you have been out with your coworkers. Often mandatory drinks where you have one and leave, or work dinners where the focus is work. This is an actual party. Letting yourself be pulled into his arms and smiling as the two of you start to move in time to the music.

Ezra has always prided himself on his dancing. His mother had taught him and after he came home injured, he promised himself that he’d learn to dance again. He promised his mom a dance before she died. Now, he’s swinging you around to the music, a smile on his face.

You know people are staring at you, but you don’t care. Too busy enjoying the moment and you let out a happy laugh when Ezra pushes you away to spin you around and pull you back close to him. “Wow.” You beam at him. “You are amazing.”

Ezra is pleased that you’re happy with him. “Not as amazing as you, mon chérie. Every man in this room wants to be me right now with how absolutely exquisite you look.” His hands slide lower, dangerously close to the curve of your ass. “Are you enjoying yourself?” He asks, leaning in to kiss your neck.

“I am.” You confess breathlessly, feeling like this is some kind of hazy dream. It would be a fantasy, and you are enjoying every minute of it. His hand flexes right above the swell of your ass and you wish he would just squeeze it, but you won’t beg for that. “Ezra…”

He knows what you want from him and he usually would never indulge in the physical affection his clients desire but you are different. His stomach twists with how beautiful you are - inside and out - and he obliges your wordless request, cupping your cheek to press his lips to yours.

The two of you dance in your own little world, your heart pounding as his tongue flicks against your lips and you let him in without a second's hesitation. Feeling like it is the most natural thing in the world, you have come to stop on the dance floor and you don’t even realize it.

People watch you and Ezra, some with mirth, some with surprise, quite a few with jealousy. Ezra keeps you close and only pulls back when the song ends, applause thundering in the ballroom and Ezra pecks your lips before he turns to clap his own hands. “The best dance I’ve had in a while.” He winks and takes your hand to guide you to a nearby table. “Are you hungry, chérie? You want some food?” He gestures to the buffet of hors d’oeuvres.

“We should, since we are drinking…” You hum, enjoying the warmth of his hand far more than you probably should. You know his rules, sex is off the table but right now that is all you can think about. Blaming it on the champagne, you look over to him. “Should we share a plate? Try a little of everything?”

Ezra nods, leaning down to kiss your forehead then he makes his way over to the buffet to grab a plate of food for you to share. He sits back down beside you, handing you some napkins. “Here you go, chérie. I can get more.” He tells you, winking at you as the band continues to play.

Picking up a spinach and cheese tart, you hold it out to Ezra to try. Surprising yourself because you are not trying to talk about work or slip away since you have been seen by the CEO. You are actually enjoying yourself. “Have a bite, sweetheart.” You coo playfully.

He eagerly leans forward, taking the bite and he can’t help but let his tongue touch your fingers before he chews. You are too delectable. Sexy and independent. Two qualities he greatly admires in a woman. He leans in to kiss your jaw after he finishes swallowing, “delicious.” He murmurs, pulling back to look at you.

Your lip is between your teeth and you wish that he would never stop. Food play has never been an ideal fantasy for you but now you want him to eat everything off your body.

“So this is your mystery boy toy?” Jackson, another department head, strides over. His posture is cocky as he looms over you and Ezra. “You gonna introduce me? I’m her work husband. She’s never mentioned you.” He wrinkles his nose at Ezra. Jackson has always wanted you, flirted with you, and now he’s not happy that you brought your mystery boyfriend to the party.

“Yes I have, you just haven’t listened.” You roll your eyes and look back at Ezra. “Ezra, this is Jackson. Jackson, Ezra.” You manage to make it appear that you are smiling but your teeth are clenched together in annoyance. “He is a colleague and not my work husband.”

“I shouldn’t be jealous, I know I’m a lucky bastard to have this exquisite creature as my lover. It’s, uh, interesting to make your acquaintance, Jackson. She’s never mentioned you. My name is Ezra. Lucky to belong to this exquisite woman you have the pleasure of spending your work days with.” Ezra reaches for your hand, kissing the back of it.

Jackson narrows his eyes, unhappy that the so-called boyfriend exists. He had been sure it was a figment of your imagination, no man was that perfect. Embarrassed that you would call him out about your work relationship, he presses on. “Don’t worry, Ethan, was it?” He purposefully says Ezra’s name wrong. “I take good care of her while she’s here. If I didn’t bring her lunch, she wouldn’t eat!”

Ezra frowns at that, looking over at you. “Is that true, amor? You don’t eat lunch? We shall have to rectify that. I shall be making you a lunch from now on.” He promises, not even looking back at Jackson. “And the name she moans in bed is Ezra, just so you know.”

Your cheeks flame hot but not because he’s embarrassed you, but because you are imagining doing just that - moaning his name in bed while he pounds into you. You have no idea what his dick size is but you can just tell he would be an attentive and exhausting lover. It makes you squirm slightly, needing friction and your suddenly dry mouth needs some more champagne.

Ezra watches you take a sip of champagne, your neck extended, and he bites his lip, deciding to take the chance. He leans in to kiss along your neck and you softly moan. His cock twitches in his pants and Jackson stands there for a moment until Ezra pulls away from you to look at him. “Are we keeping you from mingling?” He inquires and Jackson shakes his head, huffing before he stomps off. With a chuckle, Ezra kisses along your neck and down to your clavicle, “I must say, you smell simply divine, chérie.”

You whimper, shivering slightly at the feather light kisses along your skin. “I- wanted to- to seem like- like someone you would be with.” You admit breathlessly, aware of your reputation as dull. The sexy perfume was an indulgence beyond the clean scent you would wear into the office. Something that made you think of sex rather than work meetings.

Ezra hums, pulling back to look at you with a frown. “Why wouldn’t I be with someone like you?” He asks softly, hating the insecurities he finds swarming your eyes and he cups your cheek. “You’re a beautiful, smart, successful woman. You’re far too good for someone like me.”

You know that he is a companion, that you are paying him, but you also know that he has to be very intelligent in order to move in the circles that he does seamlessly. “I’m not.” You protest quietly, reminding yourself you had to pay him to pretend to be your lover. “I doubt you would be interested in someone like me. I am a workaholic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being dedicated to your work but you need to take time for yourself. For your pleasures. Indulgences. You only live once, mon chérie. Don’t waste your life working.” He tells you just as the band announces the countdown to midnight. “Come on, let’s see in the new year in style.” He stands up and extends his hand to you.

When the clock strikes midnight, Ezra pulls you close and presses his lips to yours. Cupping your cheek with one hand and his arm around your waist, he slides his tongue into your mouth with a groan and kisses you at midnight. Putting his heart behind it as he wants you to feel special.

It’s just for the night, you know this. Still, you cling to him, letting the streamers and balloons with the confetti fall around you. Noise makers being blown and others exchanging kisses. Although all you think about is Ezra. Making you whimper when he finally pulls away after half a minute of kissing into the New Year.

He grins when he pulls back, “happy new year, chérie.” He kisses your nose and pulls you close again, marveling at the display of balloons and confetti as the band begins to play “Auld Lang Syne.” He doesn’t ever break his rule of not sleeping with his client but you, pressed against him, feel marvelous and he leans down to kiss you again. This kiss is dirtier, sloppier, as he tries to wordlessly portray what he wants.

It shifts - this feeling between you. The spark ignites and you would be lying if you said you did not want him. Your own arms around him tighten and you press yourself against him shamelessly. If it wasn’t so rude, you would drag him out of here. Only when he pulls away to gulp down air do you dare voice it. “Should we leave?” You ask breathlessly. “Go back to mine?”

Ezra hesitates for a second, knowing he shouldn’t be doing this but he desperately wants you. He wants to make you moan his name, he wants to pull you apart piece by piece. “Let’s go.” He rasps, “do you have to say goodbye to anyone?” He asks, sliding his hand down to squeeze your ass.

You know none of them will miss you, you shake your head and whimper when he squeezes again. “Let- where is your driver?” You demand, ready to say fuck it and drag him to a bathroom. You don’t care right now.

Ezra nods, taking your hand after reluctantly letting you go, and he guides you to the exit. Practically dragging you through the hotel to the car he has waiting for you. He opens your door and helps you in before he gets in after you and slams the door. “Chérie, you are -” He surges forward to press his lips to yours, a rare display of speechlessness from Ezra.

This time the kiss is even more desperate, consuming. You moan louder now that you are in the safety of a vehicle and away from the prying eyes of your coworkers. Not worrying about what they will say about you. Instead you let your hands wander over Ezra’s suit, sliding under his jacket to the warmth underneath.

Ezra groans your name against your lips as your hands slide up his chest but when you touch his shoulder, he pulls back. “Sorry!” You rush out, wondering what you’ve done wrong and Ezra shifts away from you.

“It’s okay, chérie. Just - gimme a moment.” He rasps, shifting a inch away from you as he tries to catch his breath and compose himself. He turns his head to look at you, an easy smile now on his face and he leans in to kiss along your neck.

You want to push away, something not being right about the way he reacted but you can’t make yourself. You will ask later. Ezra kisses at your pulse, his tongue pressing against it and making you groan. “Ezra….” You whisper breathlessly, your fingers sinking into his hair and your movement guides him to kiss down your chest into your cleavage.

He licks along your cleavage, dipping his tongue below the material of your dress and the car comes to a stop, the driver clearing his throat. He pecks your lips and shifts to get out of the car, adjusting himself before he offers you a hand. After paying the driver, he shuts the door and wraps his arm around your waist. “Come on, chérie. It’s a new year. Let’s celebrate it in style.” He kisses your cheek while you grab your keys for your building.

There are several other couples making their way back to their units, spirits high. You and Ezra cling to one another in the elevator and giggle with other drunken couples. Only pulling away from each other when the car stops on your floor and you pull him out into the hallway. “Happy New Year!” You call back to the other two couples still on the elevator as the doors close.

Ezra is eager as you struggle to unlock your door, his hands caressing your waist and his lips kissing along the nape of your neck. You pant and struggle to open the door so he takes the keys, swiftly opening the door to your apartment and he pushes it open, letting you lead.

Normally you don’t throw things around, keeping everything in its place so you can know where it’s at, but right now all you want is him. Tossing your keys, clutch and wrap to the floor, you swing around and press your lips to Ezra’s the moment he steps inside your apartment as you back him up against the door and close it.

He loves how eager you are and he feels the same way. His hands trying to touch every inch of you he can reach. He groans into your mouth when you start to push his shirt off of his shoulders and he’s grateful he remembered to wear a t-shirt underneath. His hands squeeze your ass and he tentatively reaches for the zipper of your dress, not wanting to overstep so he waits for your reaction before he continues, pulling the zipper down.

Biting your lip, you nod. Eternally grateful that you have worn something sexy underneath the dress. You didn’t wear it for Ezra, you wear things that make you feel good. Especially when it clashes with proper business attire during the week. This is merely a coincidence that you have lace and sheer material under your dress. Letting him peel your dress down to reveal your body to him, you wait for his reaction.

Ezra swallows harshly when he sees what you are wearing. “Oh chérie. You are - you are the most exquisite creature I’ve ever had the honor of laying eyes on.” He coos, almost scared to touch you in case you disappear. He finally summons the courage and pulls you into his arms, his lips pressing against yours while his hands explore the newly exposed skin.

His hands feel like hot silk on your skin, caressing you and seemingly bringing you to life. This time your tongue flicks against the seam of his lips to beg entrance. Making you huff happily when he groans and opens to let you in. Your own hands move down to his belt buckle, ripping at it hastily.

Ezra groans, flicking open the lace bra and he pulls back so he can tug the straps down your arms, flinging the lingerie aside and he ducks down to take a nipple into his mouth, groaning against your warm flesh as he works the sensitive bud between his teeth.

“Ezraaaa!” You cry out, eyes widening before they close. You manage to get his belt open and then the suit pants. Shoving your hand down to wrap around a thick cock over his underwear, you moan sinfully when he twitches in your hand. “I- fuck, oh my god.” You whimper, imagining him inside you.

He hisses around your breast when you squeeze him and he swears he could cum then and there. “Fuck.” He curses as he switches to your other breast, his hands hooking in your panties and he pushes them down to your ankles. He pulls back and away from your grip, his breath hitching at how utterly devastating you are and he kneels, kissing your stomach as he lifts your leg onto his shoulder.

Your eyes widen when you realize what he is about to do. Unable to comment before he is nuzzling into your thigh, inhaling your scent right before his tongue swipes across your cunt with enough skill to make you cry out.

He is tentative, not in a hurry, but as soon as your tangy arousal hits his tongue, he’s ravenous. He growls, diving in to slide his tongue through your folds, flicking your clit and his hands grab your ass to pull you close.

Your knee threatens to buckle, but you stay upright. Looking down at the sharp curve of his nose as it presses into your mound. “Of fuck, shit Ezra-it’s-its been so long since someone’s done this.” You admit breathlessly.

He pulls back for just a moment so he can look at you. “A travesty, mon chérie. You should have this gorgeous pussy sucked and licked often.” He tuts and dives back in, doing just that and revealing in your cries.

The sounds you make are filthy, and loud. You know people passing by can hear and you don’t care. All you can think about is the way the tension in your belly is pulling tight and you’re going to cum. “Ezra, Ezra, Ezra!” You cry out, body trembling when you fall apart.

He keeps you upright, pushed against him, and he works you through it with lazy strokes of his tongue. He loves how he’s already pulled you apart and he kisses your clit for a moment until he offers you a lazy smirk, looking up into your hazy eyes.

“Oh my god.” Your entire body seems to melt under the pleasure of your orgasm. Panting as you look down at him and wonder how the fuck he’s going to top that. “I- wow.” You manage, a goofy grin on your face. “I don’t know if you can top that.”

Ezra smiles, “I can have a damn good attempt at it, chérie.” He stands, licking his lips and he kicks off his dress shoes and reaches for his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers. He shrugs off the dress shirt and you reach for the hem of his long sleeved t-shirt. “I, uh, that stays. I don’t want to take it off.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you look up at him, but his eyes have almost a pleading expression so you nod. “Okay, no problem.” You wonder if he has some scar that bothers him, it would make sense. Instead of making it a big deal, you turn and walk towards your bedroom, looking over your shoulder. “Come Ezra.” You order playfully.

Ezra exhales softly in relief and lets you guide him into your bedroom. It’s sophisticated and warm and he only gets a second to admire it before you are pushing him onto the mattress. “You’re eager, baby doll.” He chuckles, caressing your waist when you straddle his thigh and his hands slide up to squeeze your tits.

For a moment, your own insecurities rear their ugly head and you wonder if you seem desperate. Not that Ezra lets you think of that, or anything for long with his hands on you. Instead of pulling back, you lean forward and bite his bottom lip. “I am eager.” You confess. “I want to feel you inside me.”

“Condom?” He rasps against your lip, his hands sliding down even more to squeeze your ass and rock you on his thigh. His cock is throbbing. It’s been a while since he’s had sex and even longer since he got to touch someone so utterly beautiful. His usual clients are older women who try to get him in their beds but he won’t sleep with them, no matter how much money they offer. He wants sex to be natural, something he desires, not just based on money. He loves the way you moan his name. “Condom, baby doll.” He repeats, needing to be inside of you.

“I- shit…” Your clit is grinding against his skin and it feels amazing. “I- I think they - I have some in the drawer.” You aren’t sure, it’s been so long and it’s on the tip of your tongue to tell him that you don’t need it, but you are strangers. No matter how natural and easy this seems, it wouldn’t be smart to sleep with him unprotected.

Ezra manages to reach into your nightstand, searching around for the condoms while his eyes watch you grind on his thigh, feeling how slick you are. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He growls, growing impatient but he manages to find a condom, ripping into it and handing it to you. “Put it on me, chérie and use my cock for your pleasure. I want to feel you cum, see you fall apart.” He orders, squeezing your hips when you take the condom from him.

Your hands shake as you roll the condom down his impressive length. Nearly leaning forward so you could take him into your mouth, but you stop yourself. Knowing that the two of you are too worked up for teasing. Once on, you are quickly moving over him, straddling his waist and lining him up to sink down on his cock far faster than what is probably necessary but you love the stretch of him.

“Fu-” Ezra’s words die on his tongue as you envelop him in your hot, tight cunt. His jaw clenches as you sink down onto him and he caresses your hips while his eyes threaten to close. “My - my God, chérie. You are - so delectable.”

Your own moan claws out of your throat while you circle your hips and press him deeper. “So good, Ezra.” You whine. “You feel so good.”

Ezra looks up at you, reaching up to grab your neck and drag you down towards his mouth so he can kiss you. He slides his tongue into your mouth and groans when you start to move, rocking on his cock. “Feel so good, chérie. So tight.” He murmurs, caressing your side until he can squeeze your ass.

It’s unusual, bracing your hands on his chest and feeling his shirt rather than skin, but you don’t let it stop you. “Been a-a long time.” You pant, starting to bounce on his cock a little faster and feeling a little rush of arousal to make it even slicker.

“Me too.” He confesses, watching you and he caresses your arms up to your shoulders as you bounce on his cock. He’s desperate to see you cum again but he can be patient. He grabs your ass, spreading your cheeks before he brings his hands down to smack them.

You squeal, rocking forward and clenching around him. “Fuck!” The sting of his hand feels amazing and you are immediately rocking back onto his cock even harder. “Again, more- fuck, please.” You beg, biting your lip as he twitches inside you and presses against something wonderful.

He repeats the action, loving your squeal of pleasure, and he loves your begging. Wanting to hear more, he grabs your hips and manages to flip you over onto your back without slipping out of you. He doesn’t waste a beat, pushing into you with a deep groan, he starts to fuck you.

Pulling your knees back, you gasp out his name. Loving how deep he surges into you with the harsh and steady slap of his hips. Rougher, just like you imagined. It’s thrilling to have a man who is polished outside the bedroom who knows how to fuck. Instead of touching his shoulders since he had tensed up, you grip his sides and moan.

He grabs your thigh, pushing it back against your stomach and he sinks even deeper, drawing moans from you both. “Fuck, chérie. You - you feel divine.” He moans and leans in to kiss along your neck. “Are you going to cum for me?” He murmurs against your flesh and he licks up to your jaw, biting as he steadily thrusts into you, adjusting the angle every other thrust until - “oh shit!” You squeal and he smirks against your skin. “There it is. That’s the stuff. Cum for me baby doll.”

It’s not hard to give into his demands. The hard pace coupled with the intensity of his focus on the angle that had made you squeal nearly makes your back arch up off the bed. “Ezra- gon- gonna c-cuuuuuuum!” You cry out, your entire body stiffening when your cunt clamps down around him and soaks his cock in your juices.

Seeing and feeling you cum around him has him groaning out your name, loud and wrecked as he thrusts into you. It’s true what he said, it’s been a while and he’s not sure if he’s going to last. “Fuck baby. I- I’m gonna - shit. Shitttt.” He hisses, barely managing to thrust a few more times before he cums, spilling harmlessly into the condom.

Panting, you nearly forget yourself and grab his shoulders but you manage to catch yourself. Lunging up, you press your forehead against his and kiss his lips for a long moment while he rides out his high. Collapsing back into the bed with a satisfied sigh.

Ezra grunts, closing his eyes as he revels in his high until he has to pull out. Gripping the condom, he pulls out of you and ties it off, tossing it onto the nightstand and he grabs you to pull you against his chest. “That was…absolutely indescribable.”

You relax against him, making sure you don’t touch his shoulder and smile. “Yes it was. Best way to ring in a new year.” You laugh and are shocked at how good you feel. You didn’t want to go work, or boot up your laptop. You wanted to stay right here. With Ezra. “It was wonderful.”

Ezra kisses your head, "I'm glad you enjoyed it." He is sad to leave you tonight. The first time he's truly enjoyed the company of one of his clients and he knows his next client will pale in comparison to you. He sighs, shifting away from you. He knows you'll want him to go and he feels dirty to think about the remainder of the money but his rent is due today. He needs it.

There’s a shift and you are sad to feel it. Now that you are both satisfied, it’s time to remind yourself that this was a business transaction. The sex hopefully wasn’t a part of it, but you owe him the money you promised. “Let me-“ you slide out of the bed and reach for your robe. “I’ll get the rest of what I owe you.” You turn and rush out of the room, wondering if he had slept with you because he wanted to, or to make sure he was paid the full amount. Picking up your clutch off the floor, you open it to pull out the small envelope with fifteen hundred dollars in one hundred dollar bills in it. Sensing that he would prefer payment in cash rather than risk a check.

Ezra is behind you, grabbing his pants and shoes to redress while you gather the rest of the money. He feels dirty. He has never had sex with a client before and right now, he feels like he’s being paid for fucking you even though he wanted you, not for the money, but because he likes you. He is tying his shoes when you hold out the cash for him, standing there in your rope with your hair a mess and mascara smudged. You look like a fucking angel that he has dragged down into his hell. “Thank you chérie. I- I had a wonderful time. I hope you are satisfied?” He asks once he stands up, shoving the cash into his pants pocket.

“More than I ever expected to be.” You admit with a smile. It’s slightly awkward and you wish you knew what to say, but you aren’t smooth with things like this. “Thank you Ezra, for tonight. I know that we went beyond some of your boundaries, but I- I really had a great time with you.” You want to lean in and kiss him, but you don’t want to push.

Ezra smiles, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Me too. I had a great time. Best new year I’ve had in a while.” He admits and unable to resist, he leans in to kiss you softly one last time. “Thank you chérie. Happy New Year.” He grabs his jacket and tie from the floor and walks towards your front door, looking back at you one last time before he leaves.

****

It’s been two weeks since you’ve seen Ezra. You tap his card that you have on your desk, contemplating your next move. It’s been a distraction you don’t need but you can’t get him out of your mind. Popping up while you are working and especially when you are in bed alone, your hand or vibrator between your thighs. Sighing to yourself, you pick up your phone and select his contact information and hit call.

Ezra frowns when he sees your name come up on his phone. He keeps all his clients in his cell phone and his stomach twists as he picks up the phone and hits answer. “Chérie, my dear, how are you?” He answers, leaning back against his seat with a soft smile.

“Ezra.” Your stomach flips and flutters at the sound of his voice. You wonder if he’s thought about you at all. You hope he has. “I was wondering if you had a free evening this week?” You murmur softly, feeling unsure of yourself now. “For a- a dinner.”

He opens his agenda, searching the week. He has a couple of events with his older clients but he has a free night on Thursday. “I am free on Thursday night. I, uh, won’t charge as much for a dinner.” He says, unsure if he needs to keep this professional despite the way his heart is thumping in his chest.

Of course he wants payment. Your heart clenches, the hope that he had felt something during your time together dying. You’re a practical woman and try to see it as having a need met. Men did it all the time, why shouldn’t you. “Thursday will be fine.” Your voice is stronger this time. “Let me know your rate and where to meet you.”

“One thousand. I’ll text you the restaurant. I know a great bistro. Private and delicious. See you soon, chérie.” He murmurs before he hangs up. Hating how he is taking your money when he enjoys your company so much but he has to keep up appearances. He needs to be professional and practical.

One thousand dollars. It’s a lot, but you want to see Ezra again. You know you shouldn’t do this, but you never felt as good as you did when you were with him and you crave that feeling again. Opening your calendar, you make sure to block out that night as unavailable. You will be busy having dinner with Ezra.

****

Ezra adjusts his tie as he waits for you to arrive. You told him you’d meet him at the bistro and he stands when you walk in, looking absolutely gorgeous in a black silk shirt and jeans. “Chérie, you look absolutely delectable. I doubt I will need dessert from this bistro if I get to have you.” He murmurs, kissing your lips softly before he pulls the chair out for you.

You fluster at the compliment, unable to stop yourself from melting into his arms. The kiss was too brief and you sat as he pushed your chair in. “That would be up to you.” You promise, staring at his gorgeous form as he sits down before you put your napkin in your lap. The bistro is intimate and you wonder which one of his clients brings him here. “How have you been?”

Ezra shrugs, “not too busy. I’ve mainly been working on my manuscript. I’ve been working on a play. A re-enactment of my time during the war and how my life went to it. My therapist got me started on it, said that writing things down is healthy and it snowballed from there. You? I’m sure you’ve been busy with the new quarter.” He offers you a soft smile and reaches for your hand to squeeze it.

“It’s been busy.” You nod but you want to focus on his comment. “A manuscript? Ezra that’s- I’m sure it’s amazing.” Your skin tingles where his hand is touching you and you swear that your heart skipped a beat. “Have you been writing for long? I feel like you would be amazing at it.”

Ezra bites his lip and shrugs, “I, uh, I’ve been writing it on and off for months. Pausing when I can’t figure out the next step and resuming when it comes to me.” He caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, “I haven’t - I don’t have any backers and no one has read it yet so it could be utterly shit.”

“I doubt that.” You assure him. “You are far too eloquently spoken and a story weaver for that to be true.” You want to offer to help him but you aren’t sure if he would take offense. “You could always test a chapter, see how it’s received?”

Ezra sighs, “I don’t have the contacts. Actually, there’s this client whose husband is a publisher but she can hardly ask on my behalf.” He shakes his head, knowing the husband turns a blind eye to her evenings with Ezra going to events he doesn’t want to go to. “Perhaps…you would read it? See if you like it?”

“Of course.” You immediately nod, eager to read his writing and offer any suggestions you can. “You can send me whatever you would like me to read and I’ll give you my honest opinion.” It does sting to learn that he accompanies married women but it is none of your business.

The smile he offers you is sincere and wide and he squeezes your hand before he brings it to his lips to kiss the back of the. The waiter comes over and Ezra orders a bottle of red wine, “and two of the special.” Ezra orders, turning to look at you. “You gotta try this cheese soufflé. You’re not allergic are you?” He asks, silently cursing himself for getting ahead. He doesn’t know if you are lactose intolerant or vegan or have other requirements.

“Oh that sounds delicious.” You moan, your stomach agreeing with you by giving a particularly loud rumble of hunger. Wincing, you are thankful the waiter has already walked away and didn’t hear it. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten since…” you actually don’t remember when you’ve eaten last, you had gotten roped into a work meeting at lunch and hadn’t been able to get something.

Ezra frowns, “you haven’t eaten today?” He asks and you shake your head. He tuts, “that simply will not do. You must eat, I insist on it. You must prioritize yourself, chérie.” His tone is low but intense as his dark eyes focus on you.

“I forget at times.” You admit. “Or I drink enough coffee that I’m not hungry.” Your life is caffeine, perhaps too much of it. You smile softly. “I do need someone to bring me lunch, I guess.” You joke, reminding him of his promise in front of Jackson.

Shaking his head, Ezra tuts, “I’ll come to your office and take you for lunch. Show that smarmy prick that you are treated right and I’ll make sure you get some lunch.” He remembers that he will have to charge but part of him doesn’t want to do that. He wants to spend time with you, find out more about you.

“No, you don’t have to do that.” You promise, knowing that it’s not his responsibility to take care of you. This is all pretend. “I will start having meals delivered to the office regularly and just have them say it’s from you. So no one suspects.” Why you didn’t think of it before, you don’t know. “I know you are a busy man.”

Ezra chuckles softly as the waiter comes over to open the bottle of wine. “I’m not that busy. Not too busy for you.” He says without truly thinking about it. He lets go of your hand and tastes the wine, nodding and thanking the waiter after he pours two glasses. “To us.” He toasts, a soft smile on his face as he looks at you.

“To us.” You murmur softly, wondering what he means by that as you take a sip of the wine. It’s delicious and you smile as you take another sip. “You seemed surprised to hear from me when I called.” You set your glass down and decide to be straightforward. “Did you not expect to?”

“I figured I’d had my use. Planted the seed about your boyfriend and you’d make the excuse that I work a lot, I’m away on business until you eventually reveal that I was too clingy and wanted too much from you - wanted you to cut back on work - so you broke up with me. You are sad but composed and me? I’m a wreck. You tell them I’m calling you over and over again to beg you to get back together but your job is more important. Impresses your bosses, confirms that you’re wanted and maybe, you’ll meet someone at work who can fulfill all your needs. This ain’t my first rodeo, chérie. I know how it goes.” He tells you.

You snort, impressed with his genius and shake your head. “No office romances for me.” You tell him firmly. “I’ve seen too many of them go up in flames where someone has to leave. No, I would prefer to have a lover outside of my profession. Even a competitor with another company is not for me.”

Ezra hums and nods, understanding more about you. You are a strong, independent, smart woman and he loves it. “I can understand that.” He nods and leans back as the soufflés are placed on the table.

You send the waiter a smile of thanks and groan at the incredible smell. “Ezra, it smells delicious.” You are nearly drooling as you pick up your fork. “Thank you for having dinner with me. I- this is better than eating alone in my apartment while I work.”

“Chérie, It’s always a pleasure to spend time with you. Never, ever think that I don’t want to spend time with you. You’re - you’re so beautiful and smart. I just can’t believe you don’t have a man to spoil you.” He doesn’t say that because you’re paying him but it’s the truth. Deep down though, he’d be here regardless of the money.

“No one would want to put up with my work schedule.” You scoff, remembering how it was frowned on that you worked the way you did. “Men put in hours and they are praised for focusing on their careers, being a real go-getter. Women do it and it's unbecoming.” You roll your eyes and bring a piece of the soufflé to your lips. “Oh my god.” You groan happily at the taste, closing your eyes at how perfect it is. “This is delicious.”

“Unfortunately some people still think women should be in the home.” Ezra rolls his eyes, “Neanderthals…every single one of them. I don’t subscribe to that archaic mentality. Women like you…they are capable, strong, independent. You pick a man based on how you feel about him, not based on what he can provide and that scares men. To have a woman not dependent on them? You have to be a strong character to enjoy a woman like you.” He winks and takes a bite of his own soufflé, a groan escaping his lips.

“Are you a strong character?” You ask flirtatiously, enjoying his outlook. “Why am I asking? Of course you are. You deal with women of all ages, some of them more independent than I am.” You hum, reaching for your wine again. “I am sure you have stories to tell. After your first book, you should write those stories down. Names changed for privacy, of course.”

With a chuckle, Ezra sets his fork down and nods, “oh there’s been some tales. Some women…they had lovers who they wished to make jealous. Some had occasions that I simply wasn’t prepared for…like a funeral as they didn’t tell me the event, just that it was a family function. Some wanted more from me than I was prepared to give.” He frowns at that one, remembering the way the woman groped him and offered far more money than they agreed. He doesn’t have sex with his clients…well didn’t…until you came along.

“Oh…..” you wonder if he counts you among those women now. You had assumed that he had wanted to sleep with you, but you had never heard anything from him and the only way you could spend time with him is if you paid him. “I’m sorry that you had bad experiences. You aren’t a piece of meat to be bought and treated how they want.” You offer, feeling slightly ashamed of the way you had practically begged him to fuck you.

“It’s nothing compared to what female escorts go through. Women don’t get nasty, they don’t threaten me or force me. I am lucky. I - I only have sex when I want sex and you…you’re the only client I’ve ever had sex with.” He reveals softly, his eyes flicking around the restaurant before they settle back on you.

“Ezra….” You reach out and touch his hand gently. “That night- I didn’t expect to sleep with you because I paid for your time.” You promise him quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear. “I wanted to be with you and it was amazing. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about someone everyday and replay something like I have with that night,”

Ezra inhales with a soft chuckle, squeezing your hand. “Baby doll, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the moment I left your apartment building. You are funny, intelligent, and devastatingly gorgeous. I- I want to spend more time with you.” He says and brings your hand to his mouth to press a kiss on the back of it.

Biting your lip, your stomach flips pleasantly. “I- I want to spend more time with you too.” You confess, smiling at him. “I broke down and called you because I couldn’t stay away.”

“I’m glad you called. I- I want to spend more time with you. It’s just - my rate-” He knows he should tell you he will be with you for free, he wants that, but he also will be sacrificing time he could be earning money from his other clients.

“I can pay.” You rush out, knowing you’ll spend whatever it takes to feel like this again and again.

Ezra bites his lip, knowing he shouldn’t do this but he wants you, “I can do a reduced rate so - so it’s not as expensive.”

“What would you think?” You ask him, feeling a negotiation coming on and you like that. It wouldn’t be fair to just demand his time for free and yet you know you don’t want to pay expensive rates every time you want to see him. Especially if it’s how you want to be spending time with him. “I think that it might be fair to say we might sleep together again, and I don’t want you to feel that I expect it - but there is chemistry between us…”

Ezra grins, nodding in agreement, “I feel it too. Rest assured, I feel this - this spark of chemistry between you and I, baby doll. What about…$500 a date? Nothing extra if we should happen to fall in bed.” He suggests, feeling dirty to take your money but he needs to survive.

You purse your lips and tilt your head towards him. “I was thinking $300 a date and I will pay for any dinners or activities.” You counter with a small smirk on your face.

He raises his eyebrows, cock twitching in his pants at the look in your eyes and he nods slowly. “$300? That’s a deal.” He reaches for your hand once more to shake it and he kisses the back of your hand. “I look forward to many more nights in your company, mon chérie.”

You make a little noise of pleasure, sure that your time together will result in you falling into bed together often. “I must confess something.” You slide your hand out of his delicately and pick up your wine again. “I want for you to come home with me tonight and let me pleasure you the same way you pleasured me last time.”

He can't stop the smirk on his face as you offer to pleasure him. "It is I who should be offering to pleasure you. You were...exquisite. I want to bury my face between your thighs and remain there until my dying day." He confesses, licking his lips as he remembers how you moaned his name.

You try not to take that to heart, knowing he is flattering you. Perhaps not like a paying client, that would be vulgar. More like a new romance. “Then I suggest you finish your dinner.” You tease, taking a sip of your wine and then picking up your fork. “I want to have you for dessert.”

Ezra dramatically picks up his fork, shoveling the food into his mouth and he downs the rest of the wine then he calls the waiter over. "Can you cork the wine and get us the check? My lady wants dessert at home." He winks at you and leans back in his seat.

You giggle quietly at how eager he is, knowing you’ve already soaked your own panties underneath your dress. Finishing your own dinner before you reach for your purse. “No, I will pay for tonight.” Ezra insists, making you pause, but you give in when he shoots you a serious look.

"I want to pay." He tells you, knowing he will feel guilty if you suck his cock tonight and he couldn't pay for dinner. He may be an escort but he's a gentleman first and foremost. He hands the waiter his card and signs the check when the waiter comes back over. "Are you ready to leave, chérie?"

“Absolutely.” You take his proffered arm when the two of you stand. It feels like you are a real couple, walking out after a fantastic meal to go home together. “Did you drive, or…?” You had taken an Uber, wanting to be able to drink if you wanted with no issue.”

"I took an Uber. I can't - I don't have a car." He admits and he bites his lip as he pulls out his phone to summon an Uber to take you both to your apartment. He wraps his arm around your waist while you wait for the car, leaning in to kiss your neck as you stand on the sidewalk.

Closing your eyes, you lean into him. “Ezra…” you murmur, feeling that pool of arousal in your core already. “Do you-“ You break off, hesitant to push but then you decide to ask. “Would you like to stay the night? Rather than going home? Or is that too much?”

Ezra bites his lip and looks at you, “I, um, I would like that. It’s not too much.” He assures you and leans in to kiss your neck, “I would surely be remiss to deny myself an opportunity to remain in your bed after our carnal pursuits.”

The Uber pulls up and you excitedly jump in, eager to get back to your apartment with Ezra. “I- god I wish we were already back there.” You whisper in his ear. “I have been thinking about you all week but my fingers haven’t been enough.”

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” He promises, his hand on your knee sliding a little higher as the Uber drives towards your apartment building. “Been jerking off thinking about that exquisite pussy.” He whispers in your ear before he nips it with his teeth.

Shuddering, you let out a tiny moan, shifting your knees apart so he can move his hand a little higher. “Should have called me.” You pant. “I would have told you to come over. Jerk off on me.”

Ezra smirks, taking the hint, and he slides his hand higher until he is pressing against your clit through your jeans. Your responding whimper has him aching in his pants and he wishes he could finger you in this Uber but he’ll receive a bad rating. “You’re a naughty girl, baby doll. Would you have licked up my seed if I’d asked you?”

Blowing out a harsh breath, all you can do is nod, making a small sound of need. You could imagine it, on your knees in front of him while he is jerking his cock and telling you to open your mouth before covering your skin in his seed.

The Uber driver hears whispers and looks back to see Ezra has his hand between your legs. With a snort, he speeds up a little, certain that you want to be out of his car as much as he wants you out before you start to get frisky.

Ezra chuckles at your squeak, his fingers rubbing you through the denim until the car pulls up outside of your building. “Thank you kindly.” Ezra says, withdrawing his hand and reaching into his wallet to hand a tip to the driver for your PDA. Once you’re on the sidewalk, Ezra wraps his arm around your waist to guide you towards the entrance, now desperate to feel you naked and beneath him.

This time the elevator ride is more tense, both of you not letting go of one another but there are others in the car. Making you nearly sigh in relief when the doors open to your floor. You smirk when the elevator closes again and rush towards your apartment, eager to have him inside you again.

Ezra reluctantly lets go of you so you can unlock your front door but he grabs your hips, kissing the back of your neck. “Hurry up, chérie. I want you to strip down and wrap those pretty lips around my cock.” His hands slide down to squeeze your ass and your hands shake until you finally get the door open.

Again, you are dumping everything and turning around to reach for him. Desperate to feel him. You feel him unbuttoning your shirt and push back so you can quickly strip down to your bare skin. Eager to get on your knees for him and watch him fall apart right against the door of your apartment.

Ezra groans at the skin you bare and his hands are immediately reaching for your bra. Last time was hesitant and new, now he’s hungry for you. His hands reach for your tits after you let him pull your bra down your arms and he pinches your nipple, wanting to be a little rougher.

“Fuck.” Your head rolls back and your chest pushes itself into his hands, loving how he’s being more aggressive. Still wearing your panties, you start to sink down to your knees but Ezra catches your arm, shaking his head. “No, chérie, I want your pussy to leak onto your floors.” He growls, making your cunt clench and you hastily follow his orders to remove your underwear before you kneel down in front of him,

He watches you as you kneel down and reach for his belt, expertly unbuckling it and he groans when you pull his throbbing cock out of his pants. “Fuck chérie.” He hisses which turns into a low moan when you take him into your mouth. “Shit.” He curses, eyes fluttering but he refuses to close them as he looks down at you.

You can feel him react. His cock throbbing in your mouth and you love it. Taking him deeper until he hits the back of your throat. It’s going to be hard to take all of him, so you wrap your fingers around the base to start pumping while you get used to his girth.

“Fuck. Oh Jesus Christ. Chérie, your mouth- it’s heaven on earth.” He compliments breathlessly, trying to keep his hips still so he doesn’t choke you but fuck, it’s hard to not want more. You whimper and he caresses your cheek.

Humming around him, you already have spit sliding down your jaw and your eyes are watering but you don’t care. All you want is to see the wrecked look on his face. You hollow your cheek and press deeper, swallowing when you feel you are going to gag.

“Fuck baby.” He leans over slightly so he can squeeze your tit and he closes his eyes when you take him deeper. “Oh shit. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me- you want - face? Mouth?” He pants out, not wanting to cum down your throat unless you want it. It’s been too long since someone sucked his cock.

You pull off for him for a split second. “Down my throat.” You gasp, taking him back into your mouth and looking up at him through your watery eyes. Letting go of the base of his cock, you grab his hips and pull him towards you, encouraging him to let go and use you.

Ezra hisses, rocking his hips and he groans when you swallow around him. A few thrusts of his hips, he is cumming down your throat in hot spurts, your name pulled from his lips.

You try to swallow it all, but it’s not something that you can manage. His cum spilling out from the edge of your lips to slide down your jaw while you gulp the rest of it down and let him ride out his pleasure, watching him as your cunt throbs.

Ezra pants, struggling to keep his eyes open as you let him drop from your mouth and he hisses, caresses your cheek before he scoops up his cum from your chin and pushes his fingers into you. “Jesus Christ, chérie. You - you are - fuck. Are you dripping?” He asks, shifting to kneel down and he cups your cunt, wanting to see if you are wet enough.

Whining, you grind against his fingers, wanting to feel him. You are soaked and ready to cum even though you know he is not going to be able to fuck you right now. “Fuck, Ez…” your eyes close and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder.

He rubs your clit, wanting you to cum while he recovers. You lean against him and he slides his fingers back to push two inside of you, groaning at how fucking wet you are. He presses his thumb against your clit, “want you to cum for me.”

You don’t care that you are still on the floor, his fingers inside you feel amazing. Thicker than your own and able to curl against that spot that makes your entire body light up in pleasure. “Fuck!” You gasp out, grabbing his arm to steady yours as your hips jerk towards him.

Ezra hisses when your walls flutter around his fingers, showing how close you are to cumming. “Yes baby doll.” He feels you gripping his arm and he tries to not flinch but he leans in to kiss your cheek. “Cum for me?” He asks, not telling you but asking you to cum for him.

His gruff request works, asking you to come apart for him does the trick. The clever fingers curl and press up against your g-spot again and you wail his name. Cunt spasming around his fingers while you soak them, thighs shaking in pleasure.

“Yes. That’s it chérie. Such a good girl for me.” He murmurs, working you through it and he groans when you lean forward to press your lips to his. “Are you going to let me fuck you?” He asks, cock hardening once again.

“Yes.” You whine breathlessly, lashes fluttering and you finally realize that you are holding onto his arm. Letting go without trying to draw attention to the fact that you feel him wince. “Here or in the bed again?”

“Bed.” He rasps, wanting to fuck you from behind. He groans as he helps you stand and he pushes his pants down, pulling off his shirt and he remains in his under shirt. “I want to fuck you from behind.”

You have no problem with that, leading him into your bedroom and you look over your shoulder as you kneel down on the bed. Smirking, you shake your hips at him invitingly. “Come fuck me.”

Ezra can’t help but reach out and smack your ass, loving the way the skin jiggles and he chuckles at the squeal that escapes your lips. “Condom?” He asks, his cock now aching with need and he grips his length, pumping himself a few times.

“Same drawer.” You bite your lip, wanting to ask if he would get screened so he didn’t have to wear a condom, but you don’t want to pressure him into something like that. You watch him open the drawer and pull out another foil packet, cunt clenching when you see his cock bobbing as he moves.

He rips it open and rolls it into his length, groaning as he pumps himself before he kneels behind you, gripping his cock to position himself at your entrance. “Fuckkkk chérie.” He hisses as he pushes into you. He leans over you, kissing along your neck as he pushes deep and gives you a moment to adjust around him.

He feels so deep in this position. Making your head fall to hand down and hips to push back against him as you moan. “Fuck Ezra, you- you’re so deep.” You whimper, walls fluttering around him as you enjoy the way he fills you. “God, I- be rough.” You beg, wanting to feel him for days after this.

Ezra follows your order, grabbing your hips and he sets a harsh pace, pushing into you with soft grunts escaping his lips. He wants to be rough, he wants to push into you hard and make you feel him for days. “Fuck baby. You feel so good.”

Gasps and whines are all you can manage through his harsh pace. Gripping the sheets in your fists while he pulls your hips back as he slams into you. His hips slap your ass and it feels like his cock is spearing up into your throat. You love and show him by clenching down around him every time he hits that perfect spot inside you. “Ez-Ez-Ezraaaaa!”

Your moans spur him on and he leans over you, cupping your tits and massaging them as he rocks into you. “Fuck baby doll. You feel - you feel like heaven.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck and nipping, careful to not leave a mark.

Every thrust of his hips pushes you closer to cumming. That heat and tension curls in the pit of your stomach and makes you arch your back when he pinches your nipple harshly. Gasping out his name and closing your eyes. “Fuck baby, so close.” You pant, collapsing down to your elbows and laying your cheek against the bed. “Harder.”

Ezra slides his hand down to rub your clit, wanting you to cum around his cock. He hisses your name, rocking into you. “Cum for me, mon chérie, please.” He begs wanting you to cum for him, to clench around him.

Within another dozen thrusts, you are doing just that. Almost a delayed cry of pleasure as you suck in a breath of air, you squeal out when you exhale. Your entire body responds to the overwhelming punch of his cock against your g-spot and you swear you feel him jerk to a halt, unable to move for a split second while you lock down around him.

When you cum, he stills, unable to move and he kisses along your spine as you shake beneath him. He withdraws after a moment, shifting to kneel on the floor and he leans forward to lap at your clit, sensitive from your orgasm, and he pushes you into another one, wanting you to cum again. His hand squeezes his condom covered cock while his tongue pushes into you.

“Fuck, fuck!” You moan, unable to believe that he hadn’t just continued to fuck you. Making you pant and squirm under the broad strokes of his tongue. He’s relentless, not allowing you to settle down before he’s demanding your body give him more. Your stomach clenches and heaves when he curls his tongue deep and that sharp nose presses against your other hole and nearly breeches it, making you cry out again as another orgasm rushes over you.

He works you through another orgasm, loving how responsive you are. He hisses your name and shifts to kneel behind you, pushing back into your fluttering cunt. “Oh Jesus Christ.” He groans and starts to fuck you, hard and fast as he seeks his own pleasure. “Fuck chérie, You are heaven sent.” He is close but he wants you to cum one more time so he starts to rub your clit, his cock pushing deep.

“Ezraaaaaa.” You whine shifting forward to lay down on the bed, Ezra following you where you are flat on your stomach. Turning your head, you watch him out of the corner over your eye. His fingers are trapped under you, rubbing your clit and you moan again.

He straddles your thighs, one hand grabbing your ass while the other continues rubbing your clit. He desperately needs you to cum, his cock aching as he pushes deeper than before, punching into your guts as he pants your name. “Cum, one last time. Cum for me baby doll.” He pleads, so close to his own orgasm and he needs you to cum one last time.

You scream his name, clenching down around his cock and soaking him in your juices. Panting out while he furiously rocks into you and seeks his own high. “Pl-please c-cum!” You beg, desperate to feel him cum, even if he’s wearing a condom.

He can’t hold back even if he tries, he pushes into you, gritting his teeth, and he thrusts a dozen more times before he’s burying his cock deep. Spilling into the condom, he groans, unable to say your name as lights flash behind his eyes, the pleasure consumes him and he slumps on top of you without pressing his weight into you. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He pants, kissing your neck.

“Godddddddd.” You groan, laughing quietly as you pant. “That was so, so good.” You murmur, wishing you can kiss him. It’s strange to feel his shirt on your sweaty skin, but you understand that he has some kind of hang up about being shirtless. “Wish you had filled me up.” You slur, almost unaware that you had said it.

His cock twitches inside of you and he swallows harshly, “yeah? You want that? I’m clean. Always - always get tested monthly just in case. Shit, baby girl. You want me to fill you full of my cum next time? Make you drip?” He rasps, biting down on your shoulder.

Whining softly, you nod against the sheets. “Fuck, please Ezra.” You try not to think about why he gets tested monthly. It’s not your business and it’s not your place to feel possessive of him. Your cunt clenches around his softening cock and he hisses against your skin. “I want that.”

“Me too.” He murmurs, kissing your neck again and he grips the base of the condom before he pulls out of you. He sighs and shuffles off of the bed, tying off the condom and disposing of it before he lays down on the bed next to you again. “So good.” He murmurs, turning onto his side and cupping your cheek, leaning in to kiss you softly.

Turning, you lean into the kiss and enjoy it. Your eyes closing and humming against his lips until he pulls away. “Let me go get us some water.” You murmur, moving to shift off the bed. “Worked up a thirst and I know you must have too.” You want him to be comfortable. Especially since he’s staying.

Ezra watches you go with a soft smile on his face. You’re an incredible woman and he’s lucky to be in your company. He feels dirty for having you pay him but he has to pay his bills. When you come back into the room, he has his underwear on and he is sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thanks, chérie.” He says before he gulps down half the bottle. “I, um, I need - I want to show you…all of me.” He says, gesturing to his shirt.

You can feel the anxiety rolling off of him in thick waves, making him seem a little green around the gills. You set your own bottle of water down and move over to where he is sitting. “Only if you want to.” You promise, touching the back of his hand that’s resting on his thigh. “Just because we are spending time together and in bed together doesn’t mean you have to do anything you don’t want.”

“I want to. I- it’s just - you might be disgusted by my monstrous appearance. I- I was injured, as you know, and upon my return from war, I had surgeries and therapy and - I - my ex hated how I looked. Said I repulsed her and if you should happen to feel that way, I understand. I just - I feel like I want to show you all of me.” He swallows harshly and reaches for the hem of his shirt, slowly pulling it over his head while his heart pounds in his chest.

You don’t say a word. Your eyes map the scars that crisscross over his torso and shoulders. He apparently almost lost his right arm, the deep scar tissue around it nearly cutting the meat of it in two. “Ezra…” standing, you slowly move towards him. You want to reach out and you do so ever so gently, not wanting him to flinch away. “I see a man who survived horrors and I’m glad you did.” You promise, touching his bare skin and caressing one of the marks on his body.

“You- chérie - You’re not repulsed? You - you don’t think I’m a monster?” He asks softly, his entire body sparking as you caress skin that hasn’t been touched in years. “You didn’t pay for a monster. You deserve more.”

“You are not a monster.” You want to scream at the bitch who planted that idea in his head. “You are a man who has seen war, and been marked by it. But that does not change who you are here.” Your hand drifts up to his heart and you press your palm there to feel his heart pounding. “I want what I see right now.” You promise him, leaning down and kissing his shoulder, one of the scars on his skin and look up at him. “You deserve more than to believe you are a monster.”

Ezra sighs, cupping your cheeks and he leans forward to press a kiss to your lips, unable to believe how fortunate he is to have you in his arms, with him. “Chérie…you are magnificent.” He murmurs against your lips and his heart pounds in his chest. He knows the lines are blurring for him between client and lover but he can’t seem to stop himself.

You sigh into the kiss, closing your eyes and you let your hands slowly caress his skin. Tracing the scars gently and reverently, wanting him to feel appreciated. When the kiss ends, you smile at him. “You can leave your shirt off around me. I don’t mind.”

Ezra swears he nearly cries when you kiss his shoulder and he knows in that moment, he falls for you. He swallows harshly and caresses your waist, “thank you chérie. Are you- are you thirsty? Let me get you some water.” He wants to look after you, he wants to care for you.

You smile at him, wondering if he has forgotten that you brought him water. “I’m good.” You promise. “If you need to do anything, the bathroom is through the door right there.” You offer.

Ezra was so caught up in his emotions, he forgot you brought in water and he nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “You wanna watch a movie? It’s still kind of early.” He caresses your spine, just breathing you in.

There’s something incredibly domestic in the idea of watching a movie with him. Nodding, you smirk and send him a small wink. “As long as we don’t wear clothes.” You compromise teasingly, knowing that if he wants to get dressed, you won’t stop him. You don’t want him to be uncomfortable. “Here or in the living room?”

“Here. I want to keep you in my arms.” Now that Ezra has had skin to skin, he wants as much as possible. He was terrified you’d reject him, think of him as a monster but you haven’t rejected him so he wants to spend as much time as possible with you. He wants to feel you pressed against him.

“Perfect.” You kiss him again and stand up so you can pull the covers back and pile the pillows in the middle so you can cuddle together. You slide into bed and pat the spot next to you. “We can turn on something and just relax.”

He lays down, pulling you against him after you grab the remote. You’re both naked but he’s never been more comfortable. He kisses your neck while you scroll through Netflix. “What do you want to watch?” You ask and his hand caresses your waist before his fingers slide lower until he’s cupping your cunt.

“Whatever you want to watch.” He murmurs, sliding his finger between your folds to slowly rub your clit.

“Ha.” You pant, the slow press of his finger against your bundle of nerves is incredibly distracting and you can already tell that neither one of you is going to pay attention to the TV. You quickly select a movie, not even aware of what it is and throw the remote down so you can give him the same amount of attention, your hands caressing his chest gently and your lips pressing against every scar you can reach.

His heart pounds in his chest as you caress skin he’s kept hidden since he left Louisiana and he adds a second finger, rubbing your clit with soft movements, in no rush to make you cum. He wants you to savor this, just enjoy the pleasure without any urgency. “Good movie choice.” He jokes, voice raspy as his cock starts to harden as the little whimpers and moans that escape your lips.

You moan, lips against his skin and your eyes flicker up to meet his. He’s someone you are paying for his time, but this feels like more. It feels real and for the first time in forever, you wish you were in a relationship. You wish you were with Ezra, that this was just a normal night. Continuing to kiss every mar and imperfection on his body, your other hand slips beneath the sheets and wraps around his half hard cock, holding him firmly.

Ezra hisses when you grip him, his fingers rubbing your clit a little harder and he shifts his hand, pushing two fingers into you, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You are perfection, mon chérie.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck before he presses his lips to yours, loving how breathless you are as you slowly work his cock.

It is the height of decadence. Lazily stroking a gorgeous man’s cock while his fingers pump into you just as slowly. Giving and taking pleasure as the movie plays and neither of you pay attention to it. “It is so easy with you.” You admit, almost afraid that you might say something stupid and break the spell over this moment.

Humming in agreement, Ezra works his fingers deeper into you, pressing his thumb against your clit a little harder as he wants you to cum again for him. “It’s because you’re so - so fucking perfect.” Ezra admits with a groan when you twist your wrist just right to make him moan your name.

You aren’t perfect. You know you aren’t. It’s not like every man you’ve tried to have a relationship with hasn’t pointed that out. You work too much, you don’t have time for them, you don’t mother them. Instead of focusing on that, you twist your wrist again when he curls his fingers deep. “Always easy with you.” You moan.

He loves hearing you say it even though you both know you’re paying for him to be here. He hisses your name and thrusts into your hand, pumping his fingers a little faster while the movie continues to play. “Are you going to cum for me, chérie?” He asks, leaning in to kiss your neck, biting down gently on your earlobe.

You groan out his name and your eyes flutter shut. “Eventually.” You tease, a small smirk on your lips. Squeezing his cock, you’re rewarded with him twitching in your hand and you pump him a little faster. “Only when you cum with me.”

He groans, loving the way your fingers feel wrapped around his cock and he hisses when you swipe your thumb over the edge. “Shit. You’re gonna - I need you to cum with me.” He pleads, continuing to pump his fingers despite his balls pulling tight to his body, warning him of his incoming orgasm.

“I’m going to, baby.” You pant, feeling your cunt start to flutter around his fingers deep inside you. “I’m gonna cum for you. Gonna cum all over your fingers.” You whine, turning your head and pressing your lips to his. Your moan pouring into his mouth while stars bust behind your eyes.

He groans when you clamp down on his fingers and you grip his cock just right in your hand, squeezing him so that he grunts into your mouth. His tongue slides against yours while his cock pulses in your hand, spurting his cum onto his stomach and chest, dripping onto your hand.

It’s beautiful, both of you coming apart together. Groaning into each other and riding out your pleasure panted out with every breath. “Ezra.” You whimper, kissing his lips again and again until his cock softens.

He withdraws his fingers, pushing them into his mouth with a groan to taste you and he cups your cheek with his wet hand, sliding his tongue back into your mouth. He has never felt this sexually charged. He’s almost ready to go again, certain that he would be if he was younger. “Fuck, my baby doll, you’re - you intoxicate me.”

You chuckle breathlessly, knowing that you feel the same but it has to be usual for him. Maybe he’s a little vulnerable because he’s exposed himself, but any number of women would give anything to have his attention and his touch. “Hopefully that doesn’t change anytime soon.” You murmur, shooting him a grin before you duck your head down and lick up some of the cum splattered on his skin.

“Jesus Christ.” Ezra hisses, caressing your cheek, and he surges forward to press his lips to yours, tasting his own cum on your lips and he smiles against your lips when you pull back. “Shall we restart that movie?” He jokes and you giggle, nodding as you snuggle into his side.

****

The next morning, Ezra watches you get ready for work with a grin on his lips, loving this routine you go through. It’s unbelievably sexy to watch you get ready and he sits there in his pants, watching you as you put on your underwear. He knows he could easily watch you do this every morning and that scares him a little, how easy it is.

It’s been a long time since you’ve gotten dressed in front of anyone, but you don’t mind Ezra watching you. There’s something in his gaze that makes you feel warm and you like it. Humming to yourself as you rub lotion into your skin, you think about the outfits you haven’t worn in awhile and walk into your closet to pull out the business attire.

When you come out of your closet, Ezra groans at how beautiful you look in the blazer and skirt. He shifts, standing up and he walks over to you, kneeling down on the floor. His hands run along your legs and he pushes your skirt up. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He murmurs, looking up at you and he hooks his fingers in the panties he watched you put on, pulling them down. “I want breakfast.” He teases, lifting your leg onto his shoulder before he slides his tongue through your folds.

“Ezraaaa.” You whine, thankful you don’t have your shoes on as your fingers tangle into his hair. You had expected him to leave first thing, or to not be interested in anything intimate, but his tongue proves you wrong. “Fuck- I- I’m going to be late.”

“Be late. For once in your fucking life.” He winks and dives back in, flicking his tongue against your clit until he sucks it into your mouth, groaning when you buck against his mouth. He grabs your ass, encouraging you to rock against his face. Once he’s made you cum, he will leave even though he’s going to hate it.”

“Oh fuck!” You cry out, his tongue flicking over your clit with expert precision. You vaguely think about calling in sick and staying like this with Ezra all day but he has places to be as well. “Fuck, fuck, you’re going to fuck me, right?” You gasp out. “Oh fuck, fill me up and let me ruin my panties all day?”

He groans into your pussy, wishing he could spend all day buried in your cunt but you have to work and he needs to spend time away from you before he gets even deeper. He slides his tongue into your cunt, his nose pressed against your clit and he fucking loves the way you rock against his face.

Your body loves the attention, primed for another orgasm by his skilled tongue or cock through most of the night. You hadn’t slept much but you feel invigorated. “Fuck Ez,” you whine, tugging on his hair until he groans into your cunt again and it sends you over the edge. Crying out wordlessly, you flood his tongue with your juices.

He laps it up, working you through it with his tongue while he savors everything you give him, his cock now aching and he caresses your legs as he pulls back to look up at you. “Chérie, you want - you want me to fuck you?” He rasps, chin glistening with your cum.

Despite the fact that you need to leave for work, you are nodding. Turning around and pulling your skirt up more as you bend over the bed. “Fuck me. God, I want to feel you all day, baby.” You beg, closing your eyes so you don’t ask him to be here when you get home.

Ezra doesn’t think about the condom, too focused on pulling his trousers down to pull his hard cock out, positioning himself at your entrance and pushing inside of you with a deep groan. His hands grip your hips and he doesn’t allow you a moment to adjust before he starts to fuck you hard and fast.

Rocking up into the balls of your toes, you cry out when he punches deep. Loving how it feels like his cock is kissing your womb and hitting perfectly inside you. Mewling every time his hips slap against your ass, all you can do is take it and you Fucking love it. “Ez- oh-oh fuck!” You squeal when he pushes deep and hits your g-spot.

To feel you without protection has Ezra thinking he’s been allowed into heaven. He hisses and continues his hard pace, eyes fluttering closed with how wet and tight you are around him, so fucking hot. “Oh shit, baby doll, you feel - it’s so good. So goddamn fucking good.” He smacks your ass, loving the squeal that echoes in your bedroom.

Every thrust of his cock pushes you closer, legs starting to shake and you feel like you are about to combust. Pushing your hips back and where he roughly drills into you again, you shatter. Toes curling and back arching, you practically scream his name. Creaming all over his cock and you realize he’s not wearing a condom and it makes it even sweeter.

“Can I - fuck. Can I cum inside of you, chérie?” He asks, panting as he leans over you. His eyes fluttering closed as he bites down on your neck, trying to control himself as you squeeze his cock, soaking him and his entire body shakes as he tries to control himself and not cum inside of you without you saying yes.

“Yes! Fuck yes, Ezra cum inside me. Please cum inside me.” It’s borderline pathetic how desperate you sound but you reach back to grab his hip. “Fuck baby, fill me up.”

He can’t deny you anything, thrusting deep as he cums, painting your walls as the deep groan of your name bounces off of your bedroom walls. “Oh my fuck-” He chokes, cock pulsing as he slumps over you, filling you up with his hot seed.

The whine you let out is low, pleased, as he fills you up. Loving the slow rolls of his hips while he pumps every last drop into your cunt. Knowing you will be leaking him for hours while at work. “Fuck-I, no more condoms.” You pant. “Just like this, every time.”

Ezra kisses along your neck, unable to believe you trust him enough to cum inside of you. He’s never had that with a client but the line is blurring. You are no longer a client, you’re more than that and it terrified him. “Fuck yes. So good.” He murmurs and pulls out of you with a hiss. He grabs your panties, helping you step into them and pulls them up to keep his cum inside of you, stopping it from dripping on the floor. “You need to get to work, baby doll.” He smacks your ass before he pulls your skirt down.

Turning around, you press your lips to his again. It’s crazy how deeply you feel for him but you know that his time is money. As it is, you feel like you’ve taken advantage. “Let me know when you’re free again.” You murmur, straightening up so you can fix your appearance for work. “I would like to see you again soon.” Like tonight, but you don’t say that. You don’t want to be clingy.

“Me too.” Ezra murmurs, knowing he needs the $300 rate you agreed but he wants to say fuck the money and continue kissing you. However, he has obligations and when you step back to grab your purse, he feels dirty, he feels like he’s taking advantage of you. “Maybe tomorrow night. I have…I have an appointment tonight.” An older lady, a widow, who wants him to attend a function with him. He knows he will just be there to impress her friends but the money is too much to pass up. Maybe he can work on his writing this afternoon.

Taking out the bills, you fold them over and for a moment - fear that he is fucking you to make sure you come back floods your system. Making you falter for a moment before you press the bills into his hand and kiss his cheek. “I- I should leave.” You murmur, not sure of how to ask him to get dressed and leave with you. You aren’t together and you shouldn’t leave him in your apartment by himself.

Ezra nods, pulling up his trousers and tucking his shirt in before he shoves the money in his pant pocket. “I’ll see you soon, mon chérie.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek and he grabs his jacket while you lead him to the door. He knows you need to leave and he follows you out of your door. The elevator ride is silent and he watches you as you stare at the numbers on the screen. He wants to say something but what can he say? You want him for company and sex, he needs to push his silly feelings aside.

The doors open and you look up from your phone, stepping out into the lobby. “Thank you for last night.” You offer, wanting to kiss him but you aren’t sure about what you can do now that you’ve paid him for his time. Your phone beeps and you sigh, looking down at it. “I’m sorry, I am so late. Ask the doorman to get you a car if you need one.” You flash him a smile and turn around to hurry toward the doors that lead to where your car is waiting.

Ezra watches you go with a sigh, knowing you just want him when you aren’t working. He needs to control his emotions and be professional. That’s what you are doing and he must follow suit.

****

You snuggle into his chest, the morning light shining through the window and Ezra caresses your spine as you sleep against him. He didn’t get a lot of sleep, too busy thinking about work. Too busy thinking about you. You’ve been paying him to stay at your place for the past month, going out for dinners, you even took him to a work event. Three hundred dollars for every night he spends with you and you’ve spent a lot of money. He hates it and today, he’s going to end it. He can’t keep taking your money. You stir against him and he kisses your hair, “morning, chérie.”

A soft, sleepy smile starts on your face as you turn your head. Mornings with Ezra are amazing and you have slept better and been more relaxed than you ever remember being. It’s sad that you have to pay for a man that you’ve fallen in love with, but you understand it. Time is money and you knew that the first time you slept with him. “Morning.” You hum, scooting up to press your lips to his. “Hmmm, what time is it?”

“It’s ten. You slept in. Someone must’ve kept you up all night long.” Ezra teases, pressing his lips to yours once more until he remembers that he has to end this. He sighs, shifting off of the bed. “My damn arm has gone dead. Let me - I need to piss.” He says, pulling away from you as he shuffles into the bathroom. He doesn’t know how he’s going to end this, it’s going to destroy him but it’s for the best. When he comes out, you are sitting up in bed, still sleepy and yet so gorgeous. “I’ll make you some coffee.” He says as he grabs his pants, pulling them on so he can have this conversation with you.

You rub your eyes, a little confused at why Ezra is rushing out of the bed. Although it’s late, you have been spending hours in bed on the weekends before you finally get up and venture out to get brunch. There’s something odd about it and it makes your stomach flutter nervously as you slide out of bed and grab your robe to tie around you before you make your way to the kitchen. “Do you want to go out and get coffee? Some breakfast?” You ask, coming over to kiss his bare back as he stands in front of your coffee maker. His back tenses and you slowly pull away, thinking he is having some pain this morning. Sometimes his scars ache.

Ezra doesn’t respond as he works on fixing you a cup of coffee. “No. I, uh, I can’t go out for brunch today. I have…other obligations.” He lies and you frown, stepping back from him.

“Oh. I, uh, okay.” You swallow harshly and he bites his lip as he watches you walk over to your purse on the counter. “I can pay you now. Let you leave and we can - we can see each other tomorrow.” You aren’t happy but what can you do? You can’t force him to stay.

“No.” Ezra says, his voice almost wavering but he manages to remain strong. “I don’t - I don’t want your money and I can’t - I can’t see you again.”

“Oh.” Your heart breaks with his words and immediately you are trying to fight back tears. It’s stupid that you had gotten in so deep with this man when it was only supposed to be one evening, one stupid New Year’s party. “I see.” You manage to keep your voice steady and you turn to pull out the crisp, three one hundred dollar bills and you lay them on the counter for him. “Take the money, you spent last night with me.” You insist before you set the bag down. “I- I need to - excuse me.” You rush back towards your bedroom, needing to lock yourself in the bathroom for a moment so you don’t do something stupid like begging him to stay.

Frowning as you rush off, Ezra looks back towards the door you just slammed. He shakes his head, suddenly pissed that you are just dismissing him without even talking about it. He knows he’s the one ending this arrangement but that’s because of his feelings for you. You just seem to not give a fuck. That makes him furious. He stomps over to your door, banging on it. “You can’t just lock yourself away. I- is that it? We’re done?” He asks you through the door, leaning against it as he sighs, his heart breaking.

Inside the bathroom, you cover your mouth with your hand, tears pouring down your face. “What do you want, Ezra?” You sob. “Is this- I don’t understand.” Your heart feels like it’s about to explode and all you want is to be left alone so you can wallow in your misery. “Is it a shakedown for more money?” You didn’t think it was all fake, but maybe he had just been using you. Maybe this was to try to get you to offer him more.

He hates hearing you cry and he’s so mad that you think this is because he wants more money. “More money? Are you fucking joking with me, baby doll? I don’t give a shit about the money. I- I can’t keep taking your money when I- it’s not just work anymore. It never was. Not since the moment I met you. It’s never been an arrangement for me. Chérie, it’s always been for pleasure, because you’re incredible. I - I can’t keep taking your money when I’m in love with you. It’s not right and it’s best that I walk away now. I know you just wanted company and I’m the moron who caught feelings and it’s not fair to push that onto you.”

His confession just makes you sob harder, confused and hurt by all of this. Especially the suddenness of him not wanting to be with you anymore. “Don’t lie, Ezra!” You shout, curling your arms around yourself to try to provide some small comfort. “I know- I know that you were just doing your job. I know that the only way I would get to be with you was if I paid you. Why-” You voice breaks and you gasp out a sob of heart wrenching pain. “Why do you think I kept paying you? It’s the only way I could spend time with you! Stop making fun of me.”

Ezra frowns, “what - what the fuck are you talking about? Please. Please can you come out of there so I can talk to you properly? I’m not making fun of you, my love. I - I want to be with you. I just - you kept paying me and I - I’m a scoundrel and shouldn’t have taken your money. I’ll give every cent back to you. Just - just please, let me see you one last time before I go. I can’t - I know you don’t love me. I’ll go.”

You don’t want to, you don’t want to confront him. You’ve never been good in relationships, never wanted to fight or deal with the heartbreak associated with it. You would rather just leave, let him go but he’s in your house right now. Stumbling to the door, you know you look horrible with tears running down your cheeks and your nose running but you can’t care right now. You open the door and you can’t even look at him, staring down at your feet. “Please stop.” You beg him softly. “I know- I know I’m stupid but stop pretending.” You hiccup and try to wipe away your tears. “You don’t want to be with me, I know that. So just- go if you want.”

Ezra’s heart breaks at your confession and he can’t stop himself from reaching out to cup your cheeks. “My love, oh mon chérie. You are - please - seeing you cry has me damn near ready to beat myself up.” He tenderly wipes your tears with his thumbs, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t want your money. I want you. I love you. I’m - I’m a fool to let this arrangement have carried on for this long but I need you to know that I am madly in love with you and if you don’t feel the same, I will walk out that door. I will return your money. I cannot take it. I did not need to be paid for a single moment of this time together.”

Your chin trembles and wobbles while new tears spill over your lashes. Wanting so badly to believe him but why would he say he couldn’t see you anymore? “I- then why can’t you see me?” You ask. “I- I always want you here. I love you, Ezra. It’s why I’ve wanted you here. Everyday, I - I’ve wanted you. I paid you because I- I thought it was the only way I could have you.”

He’s dumbstruck when you tell him you love him, taking a few moments to respond to you. “Why would you love me? I- I’m a monster. I- I don’t have a proper career. I spend my nights as a date for elderly women and I am not good enough for you.” He admits with a whisper, wiping away the new tears. “You deserve better than me.”

“I hate whoever told you that you’re a monster.” You hiss, shaking your head still cupped in his hands. Your own hands find his sides and you pull him closer. “You're not. You are a man who gives older ladies companionship and friendly banter, letting them feel young and wanted again.” You know he’s not sleeping with anyone else, you’ve actually met a few of his clients when you’ve been out to dinners. They are all sweet, lonely women who can pay for his company. “You are a writer, and a good one. Your book will be a bestseller, I know it.” The conversation has shifted focus and you find yourself defending him to him. “Why do I deserve better than the man I love?”

Ezra swallows harshly, tears stinging in his eyes, and he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Can you forgive me, mon chérie? For talking about leaving? I didn’t want to leave. I- I love you. I love you and I don’t want to go. I want you. If you can accept me as I am, I want you.” He murmurs, kissing your nose.

“There is nothing to accept, Ezra.” You close your eyes and try to catch your breath. “I love you, just as you are. I- you are perfect to me.” He never got upset at you when you worked at home, always let you finish up while he lounged beside you on his own computer or watched TV. Never tried to get you to change. Why would you want to change him?

He smiles, exhaling shakily then he presses his lips to yours, sweet but passionate as he breathes you in. He pulls back after a moment, “I love you, chérie. I love you more than life itself. I thank whatever deity is above that you called me for that New Year party. You’ve - you make me feel whole and accepted and loved. I could spend a lifetime repaying you for that.”

“I love you.” Now that you’ve said it, it’s almost second nature to repeat it. Addicted to the way it sounds when you tell him. “I- God, you don’t know how much you mean to me.” You promise, hugging him close and hiccuping again.

****

Ezra keeps his arm wrapped around your waist, smiling as you enter the ballroom for your company’s annual New Year party. Last year, you hired Ezra to come with you and now, he stands proud beside you. His book is now published and on the bestseller list like you predicted and he’s given up his escorting, now deciding to spend his nights with you and only you. “Have I told you you look gorgeous tonight, chérie?” He asks when you are standing at the bar, waiting on your champagne.

“Only when you tried to convince me to stay home and allow you to peel off my dress early.” You tease, leaning in and stealing a kiss. He’s officially moved in and every morning you wake up in his arms feels like a miracle. The second bedroom has been turned into his office, allowing him space to write and create. Often when you come home from work, you will sit on the sofa there and go through your emails while he finishes his self imposed writing limit. “But it pales in comparison to how handsome you are.”

Ezra bites his lip, staring at you and unable to believe how lucky he is to have you. You accept all of him, scars and blemishes, all of him. "Marry me." He blurts out, his dark eyes fixed on yours while you lean against the bar.

Rocking back, your eyes widen in surprise. “Ezra- what?” You forget how to breathe for a second and all you can hear is a slight buzzing in your ears. “I- you’re joking, right?” Ezra shakes his head, knowing it wasn’t the most articulate proposal in history, but he’s not joking. “You-you want me to marry you?” You whisper, unable to believe that this is actually happening.

He clears his throat, reaching for your hands, and he turns you towards him. “Mon chérie, I- I adore you. I wake up and am beyond grateful that you are in my arms. I never thought I’d find someone like you. I never imagined being with a woman like you after coming back from the war. I love you, I want you to be mine. I want you to be my wife. Marry me.” He requests and lets go of your hands to reach into his pocket. “I planned to do this later but I- I can’t wait.” He opens the small velvet box, displaying the simple yet impressive diamond he had purchased for you.

Gasping softly, your hand covers your mouth as you stare at the perfection that Ezra has picked out for you. Making tears spring to your eyes as you imagine marrying this man. Something that you never thought was in the cards for you. “Yes!” You cry after a moment, laughing and flustered. “Yes, I will marry you.” Lunging forward, you throw your arms around him and kiss him fervently. “I love you.”

He wraps his arms around you, the ring box in his hand and he grins against your lips until he is pecking them over and over. “I love you.” He murmurs your name and takes the ring out of the box, sliding it onto your finger. Others have noticed the scene and are applauding, including your bosses who orders a bottle of champagne for you and Ezra.

“Congratulations. Who would’ve thought you’d be getting engaged tonight?” Your boss winks at Ezra who chuckles, having emailed your boss to ask for the band to play your favorite song - the song that was playing during your first dance a year ago.

The song begins to play and Ezra takes your hand, guiding you to the dance floor. “I want to show off my beautiful fiancée.” He smiles, pulling you into his arms and he begins to sway with you to the music while your entire company watches, the ring on your finger glistening. You have tears in your eyes when you rest your head on Ezra and he kisses your hair. You had hired him a year ago to pretend to be your boyfriend and tonight, you’ll be leaving with him as your fiancé.

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