#Personal Seat License

[subsidystadium]

The Buffalo Bills promised fans that their PSL's would "never" price fans out, yet they are doing exactly that

When an NFL team builds a new stadium, it is normal for the price of tickets at the new place to be higher than previous years at the old stadium. Some teams raise the price of all tickets around the new stadium, while others force their own fans to buy a personal seat license (PSL). – Statista This scam program allows a team to charge fans a one-time fee that grants the fan the right to buy…

[daily-hanamura]

[lil-vibes]

big fan of the hc that chuuya drives like a lunatic but only when it comes to his bike. put him in a car and hes only gonna, mildly, break the speed limit, however you will die if you get on his motorcycle

[meikyuunolovers]

Finally got the opportunity to play some music in the car

[amongemeraldclouds]

love blooms in strange places

When Mattheo was assigned to help you tend to the greenhouse as punishment, he never expected detention could be so pleasant.

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader | Based on this request

Warning: fluff, one use of y/n, used my creative license to come up with plant lore and magic to serve the plot.

✿ Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Tea Party | 1.7k words

When Mattheo Riddle started his day, the greenhouse was the last place he expected he would be. Yet that’s exactly where he was headed, kicking up dirt as he went.

Snape’s words haunted him as he slowed to the door. “Mr. Riddle, you had been in detention several times just this month alone. If you will not learn by reflection, you will learn by deed. As punishment, you will have to help y/n cultivate plants for a week.”

Before Mattheo could open his mouth, Snape raised his hand. “Any protests and we will make it a month.” He knew better than to talk.

He shook his head as he opened the door, eager to get it over with. He took in pots and plants of various shades of green, color sprouting sporadically where flowers and fruits blossomed. Then there was you.

You saw the curly haired boy approach, Mattheo Riddle, you recalled. Everything about him spelled trouble from the frown fixed on his face, to his askew tie, and the way he strut as if the entire world bent to his will.

You smiled and introduced yourself politely. Your mum after all had raised you to give others a chance. To look beyond first impressions.

Still, it didn’t surprise you when his frown stayed glued to his face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he just stated by way of introduction. “Here’s how this will work. I’m going to stay here,” he said, grabbing a chair at the side of the greenhouse and taking a seat. “I’ll stay out of your way, you stay out of mine. When the time is over, I’ll walk away. Nice and simple.”

“So you’ll just let me do all the work?” You huffed, your fists clenched by your side.

“Glad you’re catching on, darling. Go on. Some would say it’s a privilege to be around me but it’s okay if you don’t see that yet.” He flashed you a shit eating grin and propped his legs up the table across him. Such a shame. He’d probably be handsome if his personality weren’t so rotten.

You caught yourself and your expression turned livid. “No, being around you is punishment. I don’t know what I did to Snape to deserve this,” you mumbled to yourself.

Your mum may have raised you to be polite, but she also taught you to stand up against bullies. You strode over to the arrogant boy, plucking a bearded iris on your way. You crushed it beneath your fingers, muttering an incantation.

When you were close enough, you hurled the crushed petals at his feet. Upon impact, sparks burst. Bright searing sprays of light was accompanied by a loud bang.

Mattheo dodged it, losing his balance. His chair tipped backwards. He crashed to the floor.

The bearded iris was otherwise called the firebreather iris. He should have known better than to challenge you.

You towered over him. “You will help me as Snape intended. It’s bad enough I have to spend time with you. You will make yourself useful or that,” you pointed at the ashes of the firebreather iris, “is just the beginning of what I can do. There are poisonous plants around here like nightshade. I will not hesitate to use them and make it look like an accident.”

He looked at you as if he saw you for the first time. The fire was brighter in your eyes than the spark you had thrown. He was silent for a beat as he recalled what Theo warned him about nice girls. You never wanted to see them mad. They were always more clever and therefore more dangerous.

As much as he loved danger, he very much preferred to stay alive. Besides, things just got more interesting. He schooled his face to a bored expression. “Fine,” he said standing back up and dusting the dirt from his clothes and hair. “If you teach me that cool trick, I’ll help out.”

“Stick around and I’ll teach you a few things,” you nodded, satisfied. You tossed him a pair of gloves. “We’ll start here, plant boy.” He suppressed the smile that threatened to break across his features. It was fascinating how you snapped quickly back to your good natured self, as if you weren’t just threatening him moments earlier. If there was anything Mattheo loved, it was a challenge.

As he put on the gloves, he felt detention wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Threatened by the poison and lured in by the idea of learning plant magic, Mattheo had surprisingly been a helpful herbology partner.

Yes, he was stubborn and annoying. But at the end of the day, he was quick to pick up the steps, memorizing which fertilizer to use for what plant, and how much water each plant needed.

The weeks quickly passed and you found a comfortable rhythm. You just had to put up with those terrible lines.

“Are you a flower bed?” Mattheo asked, his face streaked with dirt as he hauled another bag of soil.

“What is it this time?” You rolled your eyes. You found it impossibly adorable and ridiculous how he managed to get dirt all over his face despite wearing gloves and other gardening gear.

“Let’s pretend you asked me why. ‘Cause I want to lay you down and get dirty,” Mattheo said with his signature smirk.

You tried not to laugh, but you couldn’t wipe the silly grin off your face. Mattheo considered it a win. “That seriously works for you?” You pointed in his general direction. “I’d rather choke on a cactus,” you beamed.

Mattheo chuckled, “then I want to be a cactus.”

“Oh why, because you’re a prick?” You retorted, shoveling more soil to the new pot.

“No, you can’t use these lines against me,” he said, narrowing his eyes, grabbing a handful of soil.

“Don’t be such a weeping willow about it,” you quipped. “And I swear if you throw that lump of soil, you’ll have to clean it up.”

“Why don’t we go straight to the cleaning part?” He teased instead, returning the soil. He grabbed the water hose nearby and turned it on, aiming it directly at you.

Before you could react, you felt a steady stream of water hit you, the cold shocking your entire system. “You really did it,” you muttered uselessly, releasing a string of curses as you gathered your wits about you.

You ran after him, but he was quick to deflect, running off the opposite direction, taking the hose with him. Five steps in, you slipped on the mud and landed on your back. The wind rushed out your lungs and you laid there recovering your breath.

“Salazar! Are you ok?” He asked, running towards you.

“Come here,” you spoke softly and he leaned in to hear you.

“My name is not Salazar,” you declared when he was close enough. “It’s an expressio—“ he tried to explain but in one swift motion, you grabbed the collar of his shirt. The surprise was enough to send him down the floor. He slipped in the mud and joined you. You grabbed the hose from him and sprayed him with water.

He flailed for a few seconds before he caught purchase and rolled over you, yanking the hose away and then switching it off. You both found yourselves in hysterics, bodies shaking from the cold and laughter.

“I can’t believe it. You really laid me down and got me dirty,” you managed to say in between laughter.

“This is not what I meant. But if you want to know what I mean,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. But he was rendered speechless, the words and laughter faded in his throat.

He didn’t think it was possible. But up close, you were even more beautiful with your captivating eyes and kissable lips.

His intense gaze stole the laughter and breath from your lungs. You felt his heartbeat drum against yours, your breaths mingled with one another.

It sunk in then that he was on top of you, gazing at you like he wanted to do a hundred and one sinful things to you. He had a forest full of desires and you wanted to explore every corner of it. To go on an adventure with him. So you did.

You weren’t sure who started it, but the next second you found yourselves kissing each other. It was better than any euphoria plants could induce. His lips felt surprisingly soft and he started off tentative, seeing if you were okay with it. You just needed more and he quickly matched your pace, taking in as much of you as he could.

He was no longer gentle and he ran his hand through your mud streaked hair, holding you just where he needed you, deepening the kiss. You tugged on his hair in return and he rewarded you with a groan, his chest rumbling against you. He licked your lower lip, prompting you to open your mouth as his tongue darted in, exploring until you both needed to come up for air. Panting against each other.

“Why are you looking at me like I just kicked a puppy?” He asked.

You shook your head. “You’re just a boy trying to get through detention,” you stated.

“Darling, my detention was only a week long,” he admitted.

Your eyes widened. “But this is your third week helping me.”

“You still haven’t taught me how to make fire with flowers yet,” he said, kissing you on the nose.

“You’re not afraid I’d poison you?” You narrowed your eyes, recalling your threat.

“I looked it up. The nightshade you mentioned that first week isn’t even poisonous. You never meant to poison me, dear.”

“But you fell for it, that’s what mattered,” you insisted.

“Maybe it’s you I’ve pollen for,” he quipped.

“You’re never gonna stop with the plant puns, aren’t you?”

“No, because you’re ivy and you’ve fully crept in my thoughts. Next, you can creep in my—” you kissed him then to shut him up. He didn’t seem to mind at all. You really had had enough of his silly plant puns, even though you couldn’t get enough of him.

✿ Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Tea Party

[jjunberry]

❝ forever with me ❞

synopsis ⟢ can't promise that things won't be broken but i swear that i will never leave,please stay forever with me…when you’re forced to sit next to the one person you despise the most during a road trip, things get tense as emotions are at an all time high.

pairing ⟢ nishimura riki x fem!reader

genre ⟢ enemies to lovers, forced proximity, non-idol au, slice of life, angst, fluff

warnings ⟢ arguments, cursing, niki & reader being assholes, jungwon and jake playing cupid??

wc ⟢2.2k mlist ⟢

your eyebrows furrowed at jungwon, who stood across from you. “you have got to be kidding me,” your arms crossed. he smiled sheepishly, “i’m sorry but this year, it’s your turn for the back seat.” the back seat which you’ve always avoided since every year niki sat back there. “jungwon, this trip is a four hour drive, you want me to sit next to him for four hours?” jungwon sighed at your question. “with the drivers rotating, you two don’t drive so it’s easier this way.” curse you for not having your drivers license.

“i am not happy about this,” your arms crossed as you plopped down on your couch. jungwon sat next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. “it’s only for the ride there, you can manage yeah? just take your headphones.” you sighed and nodded, “i’m only doing this for you and the others, don’t expect a peep out of me.” jungwon smiled at your words, knowing there was no way you’d keep quiet against niki.

the days leading up to the road trip, you tried your hardest to avoid niki. key word tried, he always finds a way to get under your skin. whether its taking your seat while out to eat, or cutting you off in line at the mall. it never failed to get a rise out of you. the boys could practically predict what the two of you’d say to each other.

“at least say excuse me, you gremlin,” jake mocked you. “move, you always take to long anyway,” sunoo was quick to mock niki’s response. they of course never did this in front of you two, afraid of even more warfare. despite how funny the arguments could be, they also got quite annoying. the constant bickering was enough to have the group want to rip their hair out.

niki was in no better spirits about having to share his precious back seat with you. he barely liked to share with the guys but to have you back there? the boy wanted to just unpack and not even go. “it’s not that bad,” jake said watching niki angrily shove the remaining items he had into his bag. “it is that bad actually, she’s insufferable. how can i sit next to her for four hours?” niki looked at jake with furious eyes. “look if you drove then maybe you’d be better off, but it’s easier this way”, jake shrugged. niki seriously needed to get his license, he rolled his eyes. “see you in the morning man, just take your headphones and ignore her i guess”, he patted niki’s shoulder before leaving.

you were the last stop before they could go on the road. niki was already annoyed. he only had his wired headphones, the car they rented had a small back seat, so he’d be even closer to you then he wanted to be. he rolled his eyes watching you stumble to the car with your bags. his eyes followed jungwon who jumped out to help you. the trunk opened and jungwon placed your bag in the back, handing you your smaller one. “thank you wonnie,” you grinned, hugging him. “you’re welcome.” he opened the sliding door to let you in.

in the second row sat, jay and jake. the middle was occupied by sunoo and sunghoon. heeseung was driving and jungwon had the passenger seat. “hi everyone,” you greeted them before climbing into the very back seat. niki furrowed his eyebrows when you finally sat down, your shoulder brushing his slightly.

with the reduced space, your legs and shoulders were touching his. niki began bouncing his leg, the annoyance of sitting next to you already bothering him. you looked at him, you wanted to scold him for bouncing his leg, but you remained calm for everyone’s sake. once heeseung checked that everyone was ready he began driving.

everyone was conversing amongst themselves, you tried to occupy yourself on your phone, by looking out the window. niki was like a statue next to you, besides his leg that was still bouncing. you leaned up, propping your head on the back of the middle row seat. “hi,” sunoo giggled seeing your head pop up between himself and sunghoon. “hi,” you grinned.

he motioned with his head, “doing okay back there?” you sighed,” i guess so,” niki let out a groan shifting away from you causing you to fall back from the seat. “stop leaning against me,” niki snapped. “spoke to soon,” you whispered to sunoo before returning to your seat. “sorry jeez,” you scoffed, leaning away from him as far as you could. niki rolled his eyes at you.

a few minutes had passed, you subconsciously began tapping your fingers against your leg. to whatever beat you had in your head, niki clenched his jaw at the rhythmic pattern. it was unbelievably irritating, “can you not?” he asked. you turned to him confused, “what?” he rolled his eyes, “stop tapping your fingers it’s annoying.” you narrowed your eyes at him, “yeah? well so are you bouncing your leg but i didn’t say anything.”

he rolled his eyes and stilled his leg, you smirked slightly before stopping the tapping. you laid your head against the window, feeling sleepy. however the small bumps the car hit were uncomfortable. your smaller bag only had a few things in it, not holding the small stuffed animal you were looking for. it was a small bear, you’ve had since childhood you literally always bring with you. turning so you could reach in the trunk, your body kept bumping into niki. the boy groaned, “what are you doing now? can’t you just sit still?,” he tried to scoot away from you. “i was looking for something,” you grumbled clutching the bear and turning to sit back down. “seriously?” niki noticed the bear you were now holding.

“that could of waited,” he snapped. “i’m going to use him as a pillow, it’s..you know what, i don’t have to explain myself to you.” you placed the bear in a spot to cushion your head. niki scoffed and adjusted in his spot. his leg pushing into yours, “could you maybe not be a dude and save me some room,” you asked pushing his leg back over with yours. “i can’t help it,” his eyes rolled. that’s all his eyes ever did when he looked at you. “we have to stop for gas, if anyone wants snacks or to stretch their legs,” heeseung spoke. once he pulled into the gas station everyone piled out of the car. your arms stretched above your head, a soft groan falling from your lips. goosebumps covered your skin as a chill breeze went by. “can i borrow a hoodie, anyone?” you spoke. they all nodded saying to just grab one from the back. opening the trunk you dug through the bags until you came across what you were looking for. pulling out a large gray zip up hoodie, you smiled once the sleeves covered your cold arms. jungwon came bouncing out of the gas station with a bag full of snacks. “here y/n,” he said, handing you a bag of skittles and a bottle of sprite. “thank you wonnie,” he smiled and got into the passenger seat.

you dreaded sitting next to him again, but everyone was ready to get back on the road. niki had his head turned away from you when you got in. your chest tightened but you refused to let him get to you. “can you scooch over a little bit?,” you asked, squeezing into your seat. his leg was partially on your side. he let out a scoff before pulling leg closer to his side. taking your seat, you pulled your hood up and leaned against the window. niki’s eyes drifted to the hoodie you were wearing, his hoodie. he felt his heart pounding against his chest, you looked so good in his clothes. sunoo turned towards you, holding out his bag of gummie worms, “want some?” you nodded reaching into the bag and grabbing two. “thank you,” you grinned.

niki was silent, a storm was brewing inside him. he didn’t think it was fair that you got along so well with the boys. why couldn’t you get along with him like that? why did you two hate each other so much? truth is neither of you could pinpoint any moment that could of caused the mutual feeling of hate between you both. “riki would you like a gummie worm?” sunoo asked holding the bag out to him. niki looked at it seeing no blue left, then he noticed the blue gummie worm in your hand. “no someone already took the last good flavor,” he huffed. your eyebrows furrowed and you handed the gummie worm to him, “here,” his eyes widened as he stared at it. part of him wanted to take it, he didn’t know what caused him not to. “i don’t want it after you’ve had it in your hand,” he grabbed a red one from sunoo before turning to ignore the both of you.

sunoo turned back around to ignore the brewing argument, but you shrugged and said nothing. trying your best to not fight with him.

it wasn’t long before another fight broke out. the bouncing of his leg? a fight. the tapping of your nails? a fight. sunoo pointing out you were wearing niki’s hoodie? a fight. “y/n isn’t that riki’s?,” sunoo pointed towards the gray hoodie on your body. you looked towards the hoodie and shrugged, “yeah i guess so i just grabbed one,” your eyes quickly glanced at niki who had a scowl on his face. “maybe ask before wearing someone else's clothes,” his voice was cold.

“but i did, i asked to borrow a hoodie.” you were quick to defend yourself. “well you didn’t ask to borrow mine so why are you wearing it?” his eyebrows were furrowed. you turned towards niki, angry. “why are you so upset about it? it’s just a hoodie, i’ll take it off. i’m trying to be nice but you’re being a prick,” your hands reached for the zipper pulling it off and tossing it towards him.

your perfume filled his senses as he folded the hoodie and set it beside him. his heart was racing for many different reasons, the glances from the boys made him more angry. “no one wants you here anyway, so of course i’m being a prick,” niki seethed. “i’ll have you know the boys want me here, otherwise i wouldn’t of been invited,” niki laughed. “you’re only here because they pity you, because you cling to them—to everyone like an abandoned puppy. nobody wants you here.”

it felt like your heart stopped. “riki that’s not true,” sunoo spoke up. you drown them out turning towards the window ignoring the boys attempts to speak to you, ignoring niki’s longing glance. his own heart wrenching as he caught sight of the tears welling in your waterline. he put his headphones in and turned towards his window. the familiar sounds of his alternative playlist playing. his leg continued to bounce yet this time you were dead silent. ignoring him all together, he hated to admit it but he missed the attention.

what felt like hours passed before niki couldn’t take it anymore. he plucked one of his earbuds out, handing it to you. you looked at the earbud, then up at him. he wasn’t looking at you, but the thought of hearing music was better than whatever silence your latest fight had caused. swallowing the lump in your throat, you placed the earbud in your ear.

the familiar lyrics of ‘if i’m james dean, you’re audrey hepburn’ filled your ears. your eyes widened not expecting niki to share the same music taste as you. taking the risk you scooted closer to him, to shorten the length of the headphone wire. he let out a deep breath, relaxing his body resting closer to yours.

niki took the peace between you as his chance to apologize. the car intensely quiet, he didn’t trust his voice to come out as a whisper. niki’s hand wrapped softly around your wrist, pulling your arm towards him. he waited to see if you’d pull away, when you didn’t he took a breath. using his finger he carefully spelled out ‘i’m sorry. your breath was caught in your throat, as your heart was hammering against your chest. niki stopped spelling but his hand remain on your wrist, his fingers itching to lace with yours.

taking a chance you opened your hand, palm up. niki was quick to lace his fingers in yours. the song continues between the two of you. sealing your feelings for each other. you leaned your head against his shoulder, your body relaxing against his. niki sighed contently resting his head on yours, his hand holding yours like you’d disappear if he let go.

your relationship was far from mended, the two of you were content with the comforting silence you created. the music and movement of the car was enough to lull both of you to sleep.

in the front seat jake and jungwon shared a knowing look, jungwon grinning knowing he purposely took your headphones. jake smirked knowing their plan worked, and they’re friendcation would be peaceful afterall.

author’s note: eeeek my first riki fic 🥳 hope you all enjoyed it ♡!!

taglist: @jjunieworld @304files @babymochibeargyu @miaroseindreamland @seuliecore @seobluv @ray0magdalene @mimisxs @ppeachyttae @capri-cuntz @eneiyri @50-husbands @riksaes @imma-jiki @luvvhaos (if your name is bold i couldn’t tag you)

love , echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[ma1dita]

A Luke and Trouble smut in the car

a/n: she's back.... and with a trouble!verse smut gasp. anyways if you haven't read the series all you need to know is luke calls her trouble. if you do wanna check it out, read 'partners in crime' here!

luke castellan x fem!dionysus!reader

wc: 1.1k

“We’re gonna be late,” you grumble under your breath. The sun is setting on Long Island faster than you and your boyfriend thought it would with the old hatchback slowly inching through Queens traffic. 

There’s only an hour left before curfew. 

And Luke Castellan drives like someone’s blind grandpa.

“Relax, babe—once we get onto the expressway, we’ll be straight sailing from there!” Luke says, with a hint of a smile prodding at his cheek. You were never a patient person, fidgeting in the passenger seat next to him, sweaty thighs stuck to worn leather. The air vents are tired, sounding like gasping coughs, and every car in New York City seems to be inching forward and unable to pick up the breeze.

“You said that forty minutes ago.”

“C’mon, it’s not all that bad, trouble. We get to have some extra time together. And be alone,” his voice is as smooth as the rumbling engine, taking his fingertips to the soft of your thigh. You’d find him sweet if you didn’t feel like ripping all your clothes off right now. “You know how rare that is for us.”

“M’just so hot, babe. I feel like I’m fucking dying,” you groan, exaggeratedly flopping over the console and onto his shoulder. He doesn’t mind being stuck to you like this, wet skin and shiny lips nuzzling against his neck and he licks a drop of sweat from his cupid’s bow. Your gentle kisses sear onto his skin and he has to inhale deeply, almost eyeing the horizon and daring for it to darken slower.  Foot tapping on the brake a little too harshly, the car is a toe away from rolling into the one in front of you.

“You’re not going to die. Would be lame if you did.”

“But baby, it’s like I’m about to explode,” you whine louder, “feels like we’re sitting on the surface of the sun!” Even at his wits’ end, your boyfriend can’t find the gall to get mad at you. Especially when your tank top flies into his lap, right over the growing bulge in his shorts that’s keeping him hot and bothered. Luke almost goes nonverbal at the goosebumps that rise—and you haven’t even touched him yet. You’re fumbling with something, knocking around in your seat as he shakes his head and tries to focus on the road.

“Don’t.”

The car behind you honks slightly and he swallows dryly, running his hand through the wet mop of curls as he rolls forward. Fuck New Jersey drivers, he thinks, this guy shouldn’t have gotten a license—what!

“You should’ve just let me drive,” your voice disrupts his inner monologue, and he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re grinning, “Would’ve gotten there faster than you, speedster.”

You know exactly what you’re doing.

“We’re gonna be late.” Hand flexing over the gear shift, his eyes dart across the road, quickly mapping out a path to the next exit. Your panties fall over his fist, a flash of black lace and damp with something other than just sweat.

“Aren’t you a son of Hermes? Make it work.”

Horns honking like a symphony, he weaves through traffic almost dangerously fast and not being able to do anything else but bite his lip when he hears you laugh through the chaos of it all.

—

“Sh–Shit! We’re gonna…” 

Luke’s the one laughing now as he slaps a hand over your throat, pistoning deeper into your warmth, and fuck, everything about you feels like fire. It’s the type of burn that licks at you from the inside out—but Luke tends to it with vigor, feeling you with every inch of his being. Your hands slap onto his wrist to hold him there, eyes rolling back into your head with wispy breaths of bliss. 

It’s dark now, and you’ve both somewhat safely stopped the car in a wooded area—Luke ripping off the rest of your clothes and his own before taking you belly-up in the backseat and your calves sitting pretty against his shoulders. 

“Be late? You weren’t worried about that earlier,” he teases.

The illegal fireworks and other illicit goods you’re trying to smuggle back to camp jostle in a box on the ground, digging painfully into his shins but he’s too busy stamping his hands into the shape of your breasts, rubbing you down with the mixture of both of your sweat that rolls with the momentum of your bodies.

“Fuck, Luke!”

Looking down at you with heat in his gaze, his thumb prods at your swollen lips, tapping lightly for you to open up. You do without a single complaint. He loves you, yes—even when you’re mouthy, but you look extra pretty when he gets to fuck you dumb and there’s no one around to bother you two. Grunting, you can feel and hear your skin slap against his when he leans forward to delve deeper if it’s even possible. All of you is red-hot from his passion, cock thrusting harshly so much that you can feel it slam against your insides.

For a moment you think he must hate you—dancing on the line of hot and hurt. 

Your eyes lock and you both grin.

“Let me take care of it. Gonna let me take care of you, right pretty girl?” He spits, a straight shot into your waiting mouth and an inhuman noise crawls up from your caged throat.

Leaning up to kiss him and grappling at his shoulders, he smiles into your pout, smeared lipgloss and runny mascara transferring onto his tanned skin. He loves it, knowing that you’re all over him and feeling branded by you even in the dark of the night.

A light flashes in your peripherals and you pull off him with a gasp.

“Is that a car?”

“We’re fine,” he grits, locking your legs around his waist and trying to focus—you’re so soft and soaking all over. His hands slip to your ass, clapping your cheek as he jerks his cock into you harder, making you whine. “They’re not… going this direction. Stop getting distracted.”

The heat builds from your core, pussy pulsing, and tears almost sizzling off your cheeks, so shiny and tempting that he licks a trail up to your ear. 

“I don’t want you to stop. Don’t… you dare, Luke. Fuck!”

Light filters through the darkness behind your eyelids as you grind yourself on his lap rapidly, chasing your high until the end. In a few hours from now, it’s back to business—but Luke has always been one to remind you of your mischievous side.

“Shit, trouble,” he sighs in bliss.

A blip of a siren goes off from outside, followed by quickly approaching footsteps towards your foggy windows.

“Shit,” you repeat back to him with wide eyes, untangling your legs and quickly trying to find your magic Zippo lighter through the mess of clothes at your feet.

—

Lessons were learned, and Connor and Travis were elected to go on supply runs from then on.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Curb… Curb!!

Requested by the lovely @pipsqueakkitten xoxo

Blurb: Eddie tries to help you pass your driving test…

Pairing: Bestfriend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiousness/anxiety is experienced, bad driving, fluff, kissing… that’s it!

-

Eddie’s favourite song thumps through the speakers in his van, the entire vehicle feels as if it is vibrating beneath your seat with every pulsing sound wave. Eddie’s fingers drum against the dashboard, his head banging up and down to the beat which makes his ringed hair flip wildly. Unbeknownst to Eddie, though, the music was only intensifying the anxiety ridden beast that had awoken deep inside of your stomach. You hated driving. Despised it, even, however you knew that if you wanted to ever make it out of this cursed town then you needed to get your license and quick.

“Eddie…” you whimper but your meek voice is lost beneath the music. Your hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles have turned pale- the bones straining aggressively against the skin.

After being ignored you let out a huff, your eyes nearly welling with tears as you try to stop your legs from shaking- the ‘Elvis Leg’ is what your instructor calls it. When your nervous system lights up like a Christmas tree and the muscles in your calf’s spasm outwith your control.

“Eddie!!” You manage to muster a yell, your throat is disturbingly dry in your panicked state and your palms are beginning to sweat against the leather of the steering wheel. You are oddly aware of the way your bare thighs are pressed against your seat, the stiff carpeted fabric irking the skin and suddenly how hot it is inside of the van.

“Oh c’mon, sweetheart!” Eddie flashes you a Cheshire toothy grin that you only manage to catch a second long glimpse of, “You usually love this song!” His abdomen twists toward you, his chocolate brownie eyes drinking in your tense mannerisms.

Your elbows are locked in a 45° angle and your eyes are blown to the size of saucers. You look absolutely terrified and Eddie’s heart shrinks in his chest at the sight, “Honey? hey…” His calluses covered finger tips hesitantly find the plush skin of your thigh, resting his hand there and allowing his fingertips to dance circles over your knees, “It’s okay. I’m sorry…” The music is turned all the way down with his free hand and you feel as though you can breathe again.

“I can’t do this.” Your head shakes a top your shoulders as you mind swirls with nothing but doubt and frustration. You’re never going to pass your test.

Eddie shushes you comfortingly, “Yes you can. There’s no one around, love.” He scans the parking lot that is totally deserted, you are the only two there, “You don’t have to worry so much. Just take your time. Nice n’ easy.”

Nice and easy. Take your time.

There is a sharp intake of breath as you register Eddie’s hand on your thigh. Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock on your forehead as you flick your eyes over at him, smiling nervously.

“Now, if you just focus on your steering-“ You exhale deeply, your fingers loosening slightly as you relax back onto the seat, “Aim for that trash can over there.” Eddie’s ringed finger points off into the distance and you chew on your lip- a habit you’ve gained as you concentrate.

You appreciate Eddie’s patience and how calm he is next to you. You aren’t the best driver in the world and you’re grateful that Eddie is trying his best to make this as fun as possible for you. You know driving shouldn’t stress anyone out as much as it stresses you out- but you’re an anxious person. You can’t help it.

Listening to Eddie you circle around the empty spaces in the lot, driving toward the trash can Eddie had pointed out… however a sudden outburst from the messy headed man next to you makes your heart stop in your chest.

“Curb… curb!!” He reaches for the steering wheel, pulling it toward him and swerving you both out of the way. The van screeches to a haunt and your ears are ringing with fear as you try to ground yourself.

Eddie chuckles by your side but you don’t feel like laughing, actually, your hand grabs at your chest desperate to calm your thundering heart. If you thought you were afraid before, this must be hell itself causing havoc inside of your chest.

Your vision blanks and all you can focus on is the short bursts of breath being sucked in and out of your mouth. Eddie’s voice is lost to the black cloud entrapping your mind.

“Sweetheart? Baby?” His large palms find your shoulders shortly after he had unbuckled your seatbelt, “Honey, you’re scaring me.” You still are unable to respond, tears blurring your vision completely as your body starts to tremble uncontrollably.

“I’ve got you… I’ve got you.” Eddie pulls you to his chest, holding your head there with your ear pressed flush against his pecks. You get sucked into the rhythm of his beating heart and its acts like an anchor, bringing you back to safety.

“I don’t want to drive anymore today.” Your voice is a mix of sniffles and a hoarseness and Eddie quietly nods his head, acknowledging how fearful you are.

“How about you sit on my lap as I take you home? Show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of…” In reality, Eddie just wanted to keep you as close to him as possible. He can sense that his touch is comforting to you, but it’s also comforting to him to have you so near.

There is a pause, a moment of thought before you mod your head in agreement, allowing Eddie to slot beneath you in the drivers seat, “Can you see the road?” You question, your body is still on edge.

“Yep, sure can.” He promises, pulling the seatbelt to its maximum length so it’ll fit over the both of you. Eddie has a bad habit of not wearing a seatbelt very often, but he prioritises your safety above all else.. even his ego. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” And without another word Eddie speeds off into the distance, one hand leisurely placed on the steering wheel and the other rests on the inside of your thigh, squishing and gripping the skin.

You loved spending time with Eddie, it was why he was your best friend. You both spent nearly every waking moment together- laughing, fighting over who gets the last cookie and you always managed to partake in silly things like this.

He knew how to calm your wild heart just with a simple touch, just with a look or a smile. He knew you.

As your street approached in the distance Eddie laid a few peckish kisses onto your exposed shoulder, making you giggle at the contact. He would do anything to hear you laugh- to see you happy. Even if that meant he never got to tell you how he felt… how he loved you more than just being friends.

He thanks his lucky stars every night for the both of you meeting. It started in the halls at school, you weren’t paying attention and you rammed into him- papers flew everywhere, your lips parted in utter shock and Eddie forced himself to laugh otherwise he would have been pissed. But once he got a good look at you.. part of him knew you’d be together. Friends or not.

“Here we are!” Eddie exclaims with a grin and you return a smile.

“You wanna come in?” You ask, toying with the hem of your skirt, “Everyone’s out for the night… I don’t wanna be alone.” You shrug, trying to dismiss your honesty and Eddie twists the key in the ignition, the engine coming to a roaring stop.

“Lead the way, m’lady.” Throwing open the van door you jump down from the seat, about to kiss the ground with happiness at the mere sight of it. You’ve never been more thrilled to have your feet on the ground than you are right now.

“I can stay the night, if you’d like? Can watch some cheesy movies and critique them together?” Your heart flutters.

“Deal- you just can’t say anything bad about Dirty Dancing, okay? Otherwise I’ll take a swing at you.” You were joking partly. You just loved to watch Eddie squirm with annoyance, impatiently waiting to have his pick of the next film.

He groans, throwing his head back childishly, “Fine.” He follows you into the empty house. It’s dark and there is a prick of a chill in the air.

“If I have to endure this fetish fest just because you’re madly in love with Patrick Swayze then you have to watch The Shining afterwards-“ You interrupt him with a gasp.

Offended, you say, “I am not in love with Patrick Swayze!” Your voice is a shriek and Eddie smirks.

“You so are! Gawking at his muscles. Why else would you watch it? You watch it to watch him!” Eddie can barely speak from laughing and you swat at his chest.

“I do not watch it for him! He isn’t even attractive, he doesn’t look like you!” A silence falls over the living room and you gulp all too loudly.

“What?” Eddie is no longer laughing and there is a seriousness in his voice.

“I didn’t say anything-“

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, stepping closer to you, “What did you say about Patrick Swayze not looking like me?” You can see Eddie fighting to stop a shit eating grin from blessing his face and your cheeks heat as he repeats your own words back at you.

“He doesn’t, evidentially.” You gesture to Eddies body, your eyes shooting wide as you realise how bitchy you sound, “No- it’s a good thing! I like the way you look- I love the way you look. I don’t like him. That’s what I’m trying to say-“ As you ramble Eddie watches you closely, his eyes falling to your lips.

“God, do you ever shut up?” Your jaw falls slack and before you can even think of a reply Eddie presses his lips to yours. The warmth of him being so near envelopes you and transports you to a whole new dimension.

The kiss is sweet and tender, Eddie wants to be careful with you. He doesn’t want to ruin this. But he doesn’t know how badly you want him. How badly you have wanted this for so long.

“Patrick fucking Swayze cannot compare to all of this.” Eddie’s hands stroke down his chest, his hips swaying from side to side causing you to snort out a laugh.

“No… no he can’t.” You agree, your voice gentle as you pull Eddie back to you, going in for another kiss.

This time, you’re not letting him go.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n

[lordprettyflackotara]

hitchhiker || chapter two || the proxies

tw: mentions of murder, brief descriptions of gore

a/n: i’ve gotten a lot of love for this series and i just wanted to say thank you!! as a tribute of my appreciation i present a question: would you guys prefer this story on another platform ADDITIONAL to tumblr? i’ve gotten a few ask. i’m not familiar with ao3 but id like to learn if yall want it :)<3

<— chapter one

You had Toby absolutely mesmerized.

He swallowed nervously as he sat beside you in the diner’s booth. Brian had specifically requested the booth farthest away from everyone else. He sought out privacy, even when you curiously arched an eyebrow when he informed the waitress of his request.

Toby couldn’t help but admire your figure, your curves begging to be acknowledged in that slimming white dress of yours. The sight borderline made his mouth water. Toby shifted uncomfortably in his seat, refraining from anxiously chewing on the inside of his mouth. This would be the first time in years he would be eating in public. Usually he was never concerned with his appearance. That was until he met you.

Now he was slouched in a booth at a diner, a large bandage tightly secured to the decaying side of his face. You were kind enough to not stare, Toby only having noticed your eyes flickering to it once. You hadn’t question his ghoul gray skin or bandage. You didn’t stare at him like he was a freak. You just carried on the conversation like he was a normal person like Tim and Brian. He glanced over at Tim and Brian, his leg bouncing up and down under the table.

The four of you had been served glasses of water, the waitress apologizing and ushering to a different table. You began to unwrap a straw, before putting it into your glass.

“So, what do you guys do for work?”

The question almost made Brian spit out his drink. Tim elbowed his partner. “We’re private consultants,” He replied casually. You sipped your water, grabbing the lemon off of the rim. “Private consultants for what?” You asked, squeezing the juice into your water. Toby watched Brian and Tim carefully, both of them tongue tied. “K-kind of like detective-es. Just without the license,” Toby answered. He hoped you hadn’t noticed how shaky his hand was as he grabbed his glass. He didn’t bother with a straw, carelessly gulping down the water.

“Detectives? Thats nice. Hired by a private client I assume? One that’s behind the scenes,” You suggest. Toby exchanged looks with Tim, giving him a slight nod to suggest they go along with your explanation. “Yeah victims families sometimes aren’t satisfied with the police’s answer for disappearances or murders. They hire people like us to do some of our own investigating,” Tim replied. He hadn’t touched his water. The waitress returned, a small notebook in hand.

“What will you all have to drink?”

Tim gestured for you to go first.

“I’ll have a coke, thank you.”

You looked over at Toby, whose leg was bouncing under the table at a million miles per hour.

“Dr Pepper i-if you have it.”

The waitress gave a confirming nod, looking over at Brian.

“I’ll just stick with water.”

She nodded, her gaze landing on Tim.

“I’ll just have black coffee, thanks.”

Once she left, you were eager to resume the conversation. “Must be exciting work, traveling all of the time. I assume it’s all paid right? Like traveling fees and food,” You say. Toby couldn’t help but feel nervous around you, the brunette forcing himself to join the conversation. “Y-yeah it’s p-pretty nice,” He replied. He felt his neck begin to twitch, Brian’s eyes shooting daggers at him across the table. “You guys should meet my best friend Nova. She just became the lead detective around here,” You suggested. Tim exchanged glances with Brian. Toby clutched his cup, practically reading their thoughts.

They finally had justification for keeping you around.

The waitress came back, setting the drinks on the table. She clicked her pen as she brought out her notepad from the apron, the sound making Toby’s left arm twitch. “What will you have?” She asked you. You glanced at the menu, clearing your throat. Oddly enough it felt weird having all three of their eyes on you, watching you intently. “I’ll have the barbecue burger with fries, thanks,” You tell her. She took the menu from your hands, looking over at Toby. “I’ll have the same but with two burgers instead of one,” Toby said, giving her a small smile. The waitresses eyebrows raised, but she scribbled it onto her notepad without comment.

Her eyes landed on Brian, who hadn’t glanced at the menu. “I’ll take a veggie burger with no tomato, thank you,” He said simply, handing the waitress the menu. She turned to Tim, who was quick to dismiss her. “Just coffee for me,” He told her. Your eyebrows furrowed as the waitress walked away. You wanted to questions Tim’s denial of food, Toby quick to cut you off. It was far too risky to have you aware of his crippling insomnia. “So what d-do you do for wor-rk?” He asked you. You grinned shyly, hoping the heat that was dashing across your cheeks wasn’t visible. It was.

“It’s a bit silly but I want to be an actress. I’ve always dreamed of being up on the big screen,” You admitted, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Tim sipped his coffee, listening intently. “For now though I work at Olive Garden. Just until I get my big break,” You finished. Toby stared at you in awe. He thought you deserved to be in every movie ever. Including the x rated ones. “You’ll be in Hollywood in no tim-me,” Toby told you, flashing you a big smile. His words provided you relief, Brian’s judgment written across his face. You could tell he didn’t want to be there. You returned Toby’s smile before turning back to Tim.

You had said something, Toby’s sight able to see your lips moving. But his hearing went dull, the diners lights flickering. He set his cup down on the table, trying to count his breathes. One. Two. Inhale. Exhale. This wasn’t real, right? It couldn’t be real. The Operator wouldn’t sought them out here, in such a public place. Right? His gaze landed past Brian, past the heads of the few other people left in the diner. Clear as day in the window, Toby saw a face. Or better said, a mask. He blinked and his breath became shallow as he took in the observers appearance.

Mangled jet black hair, now grown out past her shoulders. A snow white mask with black eyes stared back at Toby through the window, her eyes ominously hidden. Toby would recognize the faded white walmart jacket from anywhere.

What the fuck was Kate doing here?

Toby’s attention came back to the table as the waitress arrived, setting their food in front of them. He looked back at the window, Kate now gone. “You good Tob?” You asked. The brunette turned to look at you, silently shocked you cared. He nodded, giving you a weak smile. “F-fine just thought I saw something,” He replied. Toby shot Brian and Tim a look, one both of them were oblivious to. Did they not see the flickering lights? Brian was too invested in his food, while Tim’s attention was completely focused on you. Toby quietly picked up his burger, taking a bite. Man, you had good taste.

Toby was aware he was schizophrenic. He knew that when his mind went a little too into overdrive he’d see things that weren’t there. Over the years he had grown accustomed to it, making significant progress from his first year with the Operator. Sometimes he’d see his parents or Lyra. If he was in a bad episode he’d even be able to convince himself he was touching Lyra. Like she was really there. He hadn’t seen Lyra or his parents in years. Nor had he seen Kate in at least a year.

Kate the Chaser was a fellow proxy, who spent most of her missions alone. She was quiet and mysterious, never saying too much. As you continued to talk to Tim and Brian, Toby’s mind began to wander. Why was she here? He didn’t show any other signs of being in an episode. The colors in the diner were the same, no strange voices were whispering in his ears. Toby took another bite of his burger, his mind continuing to rack itself for an answer. Kate only came around for one of two reasons. 1. She was doing a favor for one of the Operators brothers or 2. She was there to check on the status of a mission. If it was option two, the three of them were fucked.

“What do you think Toby?” You asked. Your sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry what?” He asked meekly. You pointed at his burger. “About the burger? It’s my favorite. They always have apple bacon,” You say. You were so peacefully oblivious, Toby’s scrambled mind feeling like it was glitching. “Very good, love b-barbecue,” He answered. He gave you a weak smile, dipping a fry into some ketchup. “So what’s your family like? They live out here as well?” Brian asked. Toby couldn’t help but feel unsettled, like they were being watched. Out of the three of them Toby was the least prone to excessive paranoia, but right now he felt like it was all too real.

“No I moved away from home. Originally I wanted to go to New York but I ended up here along the way. It’s the closest I can afford to the big city. Besides it’s not too far away,” You say, shrugging. Considering they were in Ohio, Toby concluded this to not be true. However you seemed to be trying to play off your own insecurities and Toby was determined to play along. “Where are you guys from?” You asked, sipping your coke. The lights in the diner flickered again. Toby’s eyes narrowed. “Alabama, nothing special,” Tim answered, earning a kick from Brian under the table. You took another bit of your burger, the sound of faint static flooding your eardrums. Your new friends didn’t seem to hear it, the three of them unnerved.

You decided to try to ignore it, a slight pounding sensation ensuing in your temple. You had no idea the other three heard it as well, four hundred times worse. Toby watched Tim’s head begin to pound, his adam’s apple swallowing as he tried to endure the headache. His gaze flickered over to Brian, his head twitching to the left. “Oh shit,” Toby muttered, dropping his fry. He grabbed the nearby steak knife, watching as Masky and Hoodie nonchalantly began to front. You looked over at Toby, who was shaking as he clutched the black handle of the knife. He was ready to defend your life with his own and a shitty steak knife.

“Tob? You alright?” You asked, eyes widening at the sight of the knife. Toby watched Masky and Hoodie carefully, waiting for them to attack. It was getting late, the four of them the only ones left in the diner. It wouldn’t be hard to kill you and the only waitress left. But you were so kind. So pleasant to be around. Plus, you smelled good. Masky frowned at the sight of you. If he could’ve had it his way he would’ve followed you home, disposing your body in a rancid dumpster. But he knew his place, the Operators request of his presence coming first. Masky dug in his pocket, Toby’s gaze darkening. He placed a wad of cash on the table, sliding out of the booth. “We have something we have to take care of. Why don’t you walk her home Toby?” Masky suggested blandly. Hoodie followed suit, hands dug in his jeans as he trailed after Masky. Hoodie’s lips curled into a cocky smirk, shamelessly checking you out. The duo left the diner quickly, leaving you and Toby dumbfounded.

“Are they bipolar or something?” You asked. Toby released the knife, trying to ignore your bewildered expression. A flash of white ran across the window, Kate’s presence confirmed. “S-something like that-t. Let’s get you home,” Toby suggested nervously. He ushered you out of the diner, anxiously looking around. He couldn’t spot Masky or Hoodie anywhere, nor Kate or the Operator. He sighed in relief, the cold night wind brutal. “I live down this way,” You say, pointing to down town. You wanted to question Tim and Brian’s odd behavior, but ultimately decided against it. Toby walked beside you, the orange street lights illuminating the path. He tried to be quiet, trying to uncover what they did wrong in his mind.

The cold didn’t bother him, but his eyes flickered over to you. You were a shivering mess, goosebumps littering your smooth skin. “H-here. Might n-not smell the best,” He said quickly. He slid off his signature hoodie, handing it to you. “But you’ll be cold,” You pointed out. Toby shook his head. “I don’t get cold-d. Here,” He insisted. Hesitantly you accepted Toby’s hoodie, sliding it on. It smelled like dirt, cologne, and a metallic scent you couldn’t place. “Thank you Toby,” You say, giving him a grin. Toby thought back to the dismemberment of the body. He followed the usual routine. Depending on the victim there were two possible routines.

One being what they called mystery. Toby would extract the teeth, slicing fingerprints and toes off of the victim. Next he’d scoop out the eyes, before slicing out the tongue. After that he’d cut off the head. He’d distribute the fingertips, toes, teeth, eyes, and head to Masky and Hoodie. The three would divide them up evenly, before going their own ways for the night to discard of the evidence. Toby had an all too familiar lake he preferred to dispose his in. The alligators there were practically his friends by now.

The other method, one Toby named chop chop. Or chop for short. His axe skills were utilized, each leg and arm, and of course the head, cut apart limb from limb. This method was recommended when the victim had been attacked from the front. The more raw mushy organs on display, the more likely the wolves would get to the body before a human did. As for the body parts, the proxies had been using barrels full of acid. It was a grueling process, but they were able to bury them in the forest without a long drive to discard of them.

For detective Winston, they had opted to use route two. Chop was quicker. Of course they used chop, wanting to see you as quickly as possible. That’s when it finally hit Toby: Hoodie had slashed his throat. His chest cavity and organs were intact. He was a detective in the force for years. He had a chest tattoo. Thats why the Operator sent Kate. The body had been discovered and identified.

“I know this isn’t the best part of town but it’s all I can afford right now,” You say. Toby snapped out of his thoughts, turning his attention back to you. You had taken his silent pondering as judgment. “I’ve slept in trees before, i’m sure y-your apartment is l-lovel-ly,” Toby told you. You subtly began to walk closer to him, purple neon signs illuminating the rest of the pathway. “It’s not normal I know but i’ve always wanted a tattoo from that shop,” You told him, pointing at ‘Ray’s tattoos’. Toby examined the shop, his eyes scanning over the multiple people getting tatted. He made eye contact with what appeared to be a biker, his gaze returning to you.

“H-how about I go w-with you sometime? I d-don’t have one,” He admitted. You gave him a sheepish smile. “I have one but it’s kinda embarrassing,” You confessed. Toby chuckled, following you into your apartment building. “C-can’t be that bad,” Toby replied. He trailed behind you as you entered the elevator, clicking the button to the fourth floor. “Promise you won’t tell Tim and Brian?” You asked. Toby nodded, preparing himself to see whatever exposure of skin you were going to provide him. Instead you leaned close to him, whispering into his ear, “I have a tramp stamp.”

Toby felt a shiver of ecstasy run down his spine, soaking in the sensation of your hot breath. “O-oh wow,” He blushed. You giggled as the elevator doors opened, walking to your apartment. You stood in front of door 401, turning to Toby. “I really do like you guys you know. Despite their social awkwardness, it’s nice seeing some new faces around here,” You say. Toby could hardly get enough of your praise, his imagination now playing with the idea of your tramp stamp. “T-thank you. We like-e you too,” He said. You gave him a small smile. “I don’t think Brian likes me,” You told him honestly. Toby pretended to play dumb. “Pfft, B-Brian’s just a l-loner. He didn’t like m-me either at first,” He replied. Which, was technically true.

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes flickering to your apartment door. You grabbed your keys, unlocking it. You were about to invite Toby in, the invitation on your lips. Just as you opened your mouth, Nova appeared in front of you. You jumped in surprise. “Nova? Holy shit what are you doing here?” You questioned. You had given Nova your key ages ago for emergencies. There she stood in her pajamas, a file in hand. Toby frowned at the sight of Nova. Why was she there? He wanted time alone with you. Why couldn’t he have you to himself for the night? “I’m sorry I know you were on your date but something new just happened in my case!” She said excitedly. Date? The word date made Toby’s heart flutter. His annoyance of Nova’s presence had temporarily subsided. Her chocolate orbs flickered over to Toby.

“Who’s this?”

You awkwardly turned to Toby. “Oh shit sorry, uh, Toby this is Nova, Nova this is Toby,” You say, introducing the two. Nova stuck out her hand, an apple watch secured on her wrist. “So you’re the hitchhiker,” She mused. Toby could sense her protectiveness of you. “And you’re the detective,” He replied, shaking her hand. The two of them purposefully gave the other a tight squeeze before Nova pulled away. “Alrighty then. Well i’d like to discuss this case with you before dawn,” Nova said, gesturing to the file.

“Of course of course,” You say awkwardly. You turned to Toby. “Here let me give you back your hoodie,” You said. Your fingers began to grab at the hem, Toby’s larger hand stopping you. You hadn’t realized bandages covered a majority of his hands until then. “Keep i-it. I’ll come get it from you late-er,” He told you. You could feel heat dash across your cheeks from his touch. You stood on your tippy toes, planting a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you Toby. I’ll see you soon?”

Toby nodded affirmatively, wishing you a goodnight.

He shoved his hands in his jeans as he walked down the hallway, grinning to himself. You’d be seeing him a lot sooner than you thought.

—> next chapter

[chvoswxtch]

fade to black

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: curtis sheds a little light on frank's past, and an unexpected visitor shows up.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of bombs, violence, & gore

word count: 2.7k

a/n: no notes. just gonna drop this here and cackle maniacally. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

For twenty minutes, all you could do was stare at the wall, watching as the vibrant golden hour faded into a muted twilight. Shadows of your anxieties and fears seemed to flicker across the barren surface, performing an adaptation of all the catastrophes your imagination could conjure. That vicious voice in the back of your head was mocking your current situation, sending you down a spiraling staircase of doubt and despair.

The hardest part about all of this was that from the day you met Frank, he had been the most consistent person in your life. He was always there. He’d been right by your side for months, and even when your protection detail ended, he was still there. He was the one person that had managed to break through the steel barrier of your hyper-independence, not by telling you that you could depend on him, but showing you instead. Against your own nature, you’d put your faith in him and let yourself rely on him.

But now without him, you didn’t know what to do.

Remembering that you were in a stranger’s bedroom, and that you’d probably spent enough time throwing yourself a pity party, you finally stood up from the edge of the bed and followed the path from the bedroom down the hallway. When you reached the living room area, you saw that Curtis was sitting at the dining table in his kitchen, and he must have heard your footsteps, because he lifted his head to look in your direction. 

There was a warmth in his dark brown eyes and a sympathetic smile on his lips as he nodded in your direction.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

Letting out a short and dry laugh, you clicked your tongue against the inside of your cheek, walking over to take a seat in the chair next to him at the dining table.

“That obvious, huh?”

“Just a bit.”

Rising from his seat at the table, Curtis turned to take a few steps over towards the stainless steel fridge behind him, opening the door and reaching in to grab two dark green glass bottles of beer. He turned to look at you over his shoulder, an apologetic smile on his lips.

“All I got is cheap beer.”

“Is there any other kind?”

Curtis seemed amused by that, a soft chuckle escaping him as he reached into a drawer to his right with his free hand to grab a bottle opener. A soft hiss sounded in the quiet as he popped the top on each bottle, releasing the pressurized air trapped inside. Returning to his original position of sitting at the table, he handed one of the bottles towards you, and you graciously accepted it, lifting it in silent cheers before taking a large sip. Curtis took a sip from his own bottle, eyeing you as he leaned back in the chair, the wood creaking under the weight of his body.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Brushing your thumb along the paper label, you could feel the embossed brand name under your thumb along with the cool temperature permeating from the glass. Lifting your head, you looked over at Curtis and tilted your head to the side curiously.

“Are you a therapist?”

Curtis laughed heartily, giving a shake of his head before taking another sip of his beer. 

“Not a licensed one. I do run a counseling support group for veterans though.”

Upon hearing that, your brows lifted significantly in surprise. 

“I can’t picture Frank at a support group.”

Curtis arched one of his dark brows as a sly smirk tugged at the edge of his lips.

“That’s cause his stubborn ass ain’t ever been.”

The surprise at his initial statement quickly shifted into confusion. Resting your elbows on the table, you held the cold beer bottle in both of your hands, looking at Curtis in a mixture of curiosity and perplexity.

“Then, how do you know Frank?”

“We served together.”

Realization seemed to dawn on you. It should’ve been obvious when he’d said he ran a support group for veterans, but in the midst of your emotional turmoil, your brain wasn’t putting context clues together the way it usually did.

“You were a Marine too?”

“Nah, I was a Navy SARC.”

Watching you blink in dumbfoundment and seeing the obvious incomprehension on your face, Curtis let out a soft chuckle and mirrored your actions, resting his elbows on the table and holding the beer bottle in his large hands.

“Special Amphibious Reconnaissance Corpsman. But basically, my job was to put people back together in the field.”

“Back…together.”

Curtis gave a nod of his head, and the implication behind those words slowly settled in your brain. Grisly images abruptly conjured in your head of soldiers and their body parts scattered in the desert like jigsaw pieces, with Curtis right in the middle, trying to figure out which jagged edges fit where. The idea that Frank had been right in the middle of that too, and could’ve potentially been one of those soldiers, made you shudder. 

Clearing your throat, you lifted the beer to your lips and took another large sip, swallowing thickly before looking up at Curtis again.

“So you…put people back together, and he…?”

“Watched my six. While I was tryin’ to save someone’s life, he was protectin’ mine. War don’t stop when people get hurt. Most of the time, our enemies attacked us harder, cause we were vulnerable. I’d be putin’ some dude’s arm back on, and they’d still be shootin’, or gettin’ ready to set off a second bomb.”

“Wait, they’d bomb you twice? Like, back to back?”

“Mhm.”

Curtis gave another nod of his head, bringing his bottle to his lips to take another sip of his beer. Letting that information settle in your brain, it made something click, and Frank’s aggressive animosity towards the Defenders of Freedom seemed to make sense now. It wasn’t just severe disdain, it was PTSD.

“Jesus. No wonder he hates bombs so much.”

You had assumed Frank’s hatred stemmed from being affected by one during one of his tours in the Marines, but hearing Curtis say that they’d often get hit back to back, all while they were trying to save people on their team, you had a newfound understanding of Frank’s resentment. 

“Yeah. He uh…had a pretty bad experience with one.”

Looking up at Curtis, you noticed that he was staring down at the beer bottle in his hand. There was a far away look in his eyes, and his voice sounded almost subdued. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach.

“What…what happened?”

In the quiet of the kitchen, your quiet and wary voice seemed to echo. Curtis had a contemplative expression on his face, and he was silent for a few moments. Eventually, he dragged his palm down the lower half of his face and cleared his throat.

“We uh…we were in this market. An IED had gone off, and it was a big one. Everyone was screamin’, there were people in pieces all over the place. But we were trained to keep a level head. To keep calm in the madness. And by that point, we’d been in this same situation a hundred times. So we just…jumped right into it, you know. Got to work.”

Curtis kept his gaze fixed on the beer bottle in his hand while he spoke. It looked like the memory was replaying right behind his eyes.

“Frank’s job was to secure the perimeter. I was uh…I had this kid. I was fixin’ him up, puttin’ him back together. And you know, we’re taught not to hesitate. We see anything that even looks like a threat, we neutralize it, no questions asked. But there was a woman. She had to be…eight, nine months pregnant.”

A feeling of nausea and dread crested within you at where this story was going. Sweat spread across your palms, but it wasn’t condensation from the beer bottle. The sound of your own heartbeat was pounding in your ears, and your breathing had become shallow.

“He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t pull that trigger.”

Curtis finally lifted his head to look at you, a swirl of melancholy in his dark brown irises, along with a flicker of acceptance.

“And you know what? I don’t think I could’ve either.”

Salt water pricked at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your bottom lash line. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the picture Curtis was painting with his memory.

“Did she-”

“Yeah.”

Curtis’ voice was barely a decibel above a solemn whisper. Inhaling sharply, he let out a slow deep exhale through his nose.

“Pretty much everyone left in that market died. All I really remember from that moment is a loud noise, and heat. Frank was the one that dragged me outta there. He saved my life. But, I don’t think he’ll ever see it that way.”

Despite the horror you felt at what you were hearing, the idea that Frank didn’t feel like he’d save his friend’s life puzzled you.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Setting his beer bottle down on the dining table, Curtis bent over slightly and dragged one pant leg of his jeans up, revealing a prosthetic leg. He looked up at you with a tiny smile on his lips.

“Cause I ended up with this bad boy.”

Earlier, you’d noticed a slight limp in Curtis’ walk. You hadn’t even thought about what was causing it, too wrapped up in your own problems. Looking from the prosthetic up to Curtis’ face, your lips parted slightly, and for a moment you were speechless. You didn’t even know what to say. Your brain was still trying to process everything you’d just heard.

“Curtis-”

“Hey, I knew what I signed up for, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I lost way less than most people do over there. And if a leg is the price I had to pay for all the lives I helped save, then so be it. Besides, I sell insurance now, and this is a hell of a sales tool.”

Letting out a breathless laugh, you shook your head and wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. Curtis’ positive outlook after what he’d been through was astounding. He’d endured horrific things, been elbow deep in blood and body parts, lost his leg, and he still had such an optimistic mindset. Meanwhile, if you woke up and your hair wouldn’t cooperate, you let it ruin the rest of your day.

It made you feel guilty for all the little things you took for granted, and all the ridiculous things you let get to you that didn’t even matter.

“You know, you’re making me feel like a real pessimistic asshole.”

Curtis let out a howl of laughter, clutching at his chest with one of his large hands as his broad shoulders shook.

“Hey, I didn’t just wake up one day missin’ a leg and make peace with it. And in your defense, you were threatened by a terrorist group and shot at.”

“Yeah well, that was kind of my fault. Most people are smart enough not to piss off psychopaths.”

“Most people ain’t brave enough to stand up for what they believe in.”

Lifting your head to look at Curtis, you noticed he was already looking back at you with a warm smile. A small, grateful smile of your own spread across your lips. 

“Thank you.”

“You ain’t gotta-”

“No, I do. You…you don’t have to do any of this. Letting me stay here, looking out for me, being so nice to me. I mean, you don’t even know me and you’re-”

“You’re important to Frank, which means you’re important to me.”

There was so much sentiment in those words it made your heart lodge in your throat. Curtis seemed like such a genuine person. And he knew Frank, really knew him. Curtis telling you that you were important to Frank, and that there was a legitimate reason for whatever was going on right now, filled you with a sense of reassurance you’d been yearning for. It eased some of the anxious tension that had been coiled up tightly within you. 

For the first time in three weeks, you felt like you could breathe again. Curtis’ optimism seemed to be contagious. Looking over at him with a soft smile, you arched one of your brows.

“You’re pretty good at this counseling thing.”

Curtis’ lips spread into a wide grin, tooth bearing grin. 

“Maybe someday I’ll go full time.”

Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, Curtis’ eyes flickered back up to meet yours.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starvin’. Why don’t we grab some food? There’s a diner down the block that’s got the best damn burgers in town.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m just gonna use the bathroom right quick.”

“Alright, take your time.”

While you washed your hands in the bathroom sink, you couldn’t help but notice how much lighter you felt. There were still a lot of uncertainties swirling around in your head, but Curtis’ sentiments had put you at ease. He’d given you a sense of hope that things were going to be okay.

As you shut off the water and reached out to dry your hands off on a small gray towel, there was a thud that came from down the hall and snapped you out of your thoughts. Turning your head towards the bathroom door, a slight furrow formed between your brows.

“Curtis?”

When you didn’t hear a response, you opened the bathroom door and looked down the hall towards the living room area in confusion.

“Curtis?”

Silence.

The hairs on the back of your neck seemed to stand up when you didn’t hear a response for a second time. Stepping out of the bathroom, you quietly and slowly made your way down the hall, a pit of dread sinking further into your stomach with every step. When you reached the end of the hallway, you braced your back against the wall, swallowing thickly. Slowly turning your head to peer around the corner, your eyes widened and a soft gasp left you at the sight you were met with.

Curtis was face down on the floor of the kitchen, completely knocked out, a dribble of blood leaking from a fresh cut across his right cheekbone.

Without even thinking, you immediately rushed towards him.

“Oh my God, Curt-”

Before you could even finish your sentence or take another step forward, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and suddenly pulled you back against a firm chest, while a cloth was placed over your mouth and nose. Your instinct was to scream, and in doing so, you inhaled sharply and opened your mouth against the silky fabric, only to be met with a sickly sweet strong chemical scent and taste. Almost immediately, you began to feel lightheaded.

“Shh, there you go. That’s it.”

In a split second, you’d gone from thrashing against your captor to slowly sinking into their firm embrace. The deep voice that sounded in your ear sparked recognition, but your brain was trying to process too many things at once to place it. Curtis out cold on the floor. The soft silky cloth covering your nose and mouth. The warmth of someone’s breath on your neck and their nose nuzzling against your hair. Their arm tightening around your waist when your bones began to melt into molasses.

“Just relax for me, darlin’. It’s a lot easier when you don’t fight it.”

As hard as you were trying, you couldn’t fight it. It felt as though you were paralyzed by weakness, your body transitioning from flesh and blood to lead, and unconsciousness had gripped you by your ankles to swiftly pull you under. But right as you were being pulled beneath the surface, an epiphany struck like lightning.

That voice. You knew it almost as well as you knew Frank’s.

Billy.

The silken cloth was slowly pulled away from your nose and mouth, and you could just faintly feel the soft caress of the fabric against your skin. Every millisecond you were slipping further down into the sweet abyss of oblivion until everything finally faded to black.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || a/b/o

hi so today is @lexirosewrites’s birthday today and like,, idk three or so weeks ago she followed me (hi lexi <3 happy birthday <3 hope today has been fun <3) and to celebrate both of those things i started writing an omegaverse fic, and i wanted it done by today but it is grew a mind of its’ own and now it’s much bigger than i thought it’d be so instead of the full fic, have a snippet <3

again, happy birthday lexi <3

“Hello?” Steve answered, having learned to not open the call with who was answering without knowing who was calling from one too many scam calls

“Is this Steve Harrington?” A soft feminine voice asked, taking Steve by surprise.

“May I ask who’s calling?” Steve asked, not willing to concede his identity until he knew it wasn’t someone looking to sell him ‘Alpha Pills’ or something just as ridiculous.

“Of course! My name is Chrissy Cunningham, you sent in an application for being a full time nanny and tutor?” She responded with a cheerful voice. “I can’t <i>really</i> go much more in depth without an NDA being signed.”

Recognition zapped through Steve’s body and he sat up in his seat. “Oh! Yes, I’m Steve. Um. I’d be happy to sign an NDA, just may I ask why?”

“Yes, you may! My client is a big fan of privacy and only agreed to hire someone if they were under an NDA for the protection of their pup.” aaand all of Steve’s anxiety surrounding the NDA pretty much melted away. Sure, maybe it was a bit much to do, and sure, now he was dying with curiosity to know just <i>who</i> he had ended up applying to, but the knowledge that the NDA was for the protection of the pup soothed any anxiety Steve had originally felt about signing an NDA. In fact, it kind of made his omega perk up. He shook off the feeling, focusing on Chrissy.

“That’s actually really relieving to hear,” Steve said with a laugh. “When or where can I sign the NDA?” he questioned, wondering when Robin would be home so he could tell her.

“Well, first, you and I will do a preliminary interview, just like any other job interview. Then, if all goes well, I’ll send you an email containing the NDA for you to review and sign,” Chrissy explained clearly and cheerfully. “After you sign the NDA, my client will perform an in-person interview and then we’ll go from there.”

“That all seems pretty straight forward so far,” Steve replied, standing from where he had been lounging on the couch. He walked to the kitchen, where he and Robin had put up a magnetic whiteboard calendar to fill with each of their schedules and plans. He grabbed the blue marker, his color, and prepared to jot down when they’d have the interview.

“Perfect! Happy to hear it,” Chrissy said with an audible smile.

“When will the interview with you be?” Steve asked, biting his lip as he stared at the calendar, which had sparsely been marked with his blue marker, even since starting this job hunt. Robin’s plans were in red, and was much more abundant due to having three part time jobs.

“Well, as soon as possible, really. If you’re available now, we could take care of it right away.” the woman responded, sounding like she was walking into another room.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, recapping the marker and returning it to the pen holder. “Yes, of course. I’m available now.”

“Perfect!” Chrissy’s voice sounded from Steve’s phone as the omega walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. “So, starting off pretty easy here, what made you apply for this position?”

Steve thought back and grimaced at the reminder that it was Robin who had submitted his application to this particular job. He wasn’t about to admit that, though, and quickly found a more appropriate response.

“Well, I love taking care of pups, and I just got my teacher’s license a month ago,” Steve explained, which wasn’t a lie, so he figured it was probably as good of an answer as any. “I also saw that this job traveled, and my best friend thought that it’d be good for me.”

“Yes, that was going to be part of this conversation, too. So, you’re obviously alright with the traveling, then?” Chrissy asked and Steve heard what he thought could be pen scratching as she wrote notes. He swallowed thickly, suddenly anxious about what she was writing. He decided to ignore his anxiety, even as his scent soured around him with it.

“Oh, yes, traveling is more than okay,” Steve agreed immediately, “but it’s more important to me that I’ll be taking care of a pup, if I’m honest.”

This statement seemed to pique Chrissy’s attention, as the writing stopped for a moment. “Why is that?” she eventually asked.

Steve winced, wondering if he should be up front about it or not. If Robin were here, she would insist that he was honest. He decided on a half-truth.

“I’ve always wanted pups, and a lot of them,” Steve admitted, fidgeting with a loose piece of thread on the couch. He switched which arm was holding the phone, as he had started to get a little sore from holding it up for so long. “But I don’t have a partner, so I can’t really have my own right now. I discovered through babysitting for one of my neighbors that I have a knack for taking care of pups.”

The scratching noise was back as Chrissy listened to his responses. Steve was nervous he wasn’t doing well, but figured that it wasn’t going bad if she wasn’t suddenly calling the interview short.

“Your resume says that you’re good in high stress situations,” Chrissy said after a couple seconds of silence as she wrote down whatever notes she was taking. Steve briefly wondered if he should be doing the same thing. “I’m going to give you an example scenario, and you’re going to tell me how you’d respond.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Steve agreed, trying not to let his voice betray how anxious he was.

“For the sake of simplicity, we’ll say the pup’s name is Rosie,” she informed him before she continued to describe the scenario. “You’re taking Rosie to the park, when suddenly there is a crowd of people surrounding you and you lose sight of her. What do you do?”

Steve thought the scenario was odd, but not ‘out there’ enough to alarm him. He thought about his answer for a moment before replying.

“I would try to follow her scent, first, because that will usually lead me to any pup I’ve babysat. If that doesn’t work, I will call out for her. If the situation is bad enough, I would contact the authorities, and either you or Rosie’s father.” he paused for a second before continuing, trying to make sure he covered all of his bases. “But honestly? If Rosie is small enough, I would have rather carried her once I saw the crowd, or hold her hand, for the reason of lowering my chances of separation.”

Silence that’s only broken up by the scratching of pen against paper followed, and Steve was suddenly anxious that he answered incorrectly. He answered what he would do if it were his own pup, but what if that wasn’t right? What if he wasn’t cut out for this job?

“Alright, next scenario,” Chrissy said, moving swiftly onto the next one without commenting on his answer; Steve didn’t know if he preferred her not acknowledging it or if he would prefer to be told his answer was shitty up front. The next few scenarios were just as oddly specific, but Steve answered them exactly as he did the first one. He tried to not overthink his answers too much because between each one there would be a stretch of time that Chrissy used to presumably write his answers down.

“One last question and then we should be good to move forward.” Chrissy said a good twenty minutes of questions later. “When would you be available to start working?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, surprised that he was seemingly, maybe being offered the job. “Um—immediately. I would need time to pack, but other than that, I’m free.”

“Wonderful,” Chrissy said cheerfully. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Do you have any questions for me?”

Steve hummed, trying to go through his usual list of questions he asked during interviews that hadn't already been answered and came up empty. “Not at the moment, but I’ll make sure to write any I think of down, if I do.”

“Perfect! So, I will consult with my client, and I have a few other applicants that are interested, but so far, you are my top pick, but I don’t make the decisions,” Chrissy laughed, as if Steve was in on the joke. He laughed with her, not knowing what else he should have done. So, maybe not a job offer, but it sounded promising anyway. “I will be in contact in a few days, three at most.”

“Sounds good, thank you so much for considering me, Chrissy,” he responded with a smile, hoping to leave one last good impression.

[koolades-world]

Hi! I just thought it would be funny to request all the characters with an MC who drives like a maniac. The no-speed limit sign is their bestie at this point!

hi! sure thing! in honor of me earning my drivers license, I figured this would be fitting. not sure how long this will take to be posted, but i'm writing this on august 23th, the day i actually got my license lol

enjoy <3

Maniac Driver Mc

Lucifer

oh you're going to be the death of him

this old man will have a heart attack and it may or may not be because of you

but! he still loves you lol. just, maybe at least try to go a little slower when he's in the car haha

Mammon

he's probably so excited

another fellow speed demon! (haha get it? lol)

can and will invite you to do illegal street racing that you probably will get caught by lucifer doing

Levi

please, for his sake, be careful when he is in the car

being outside is hard enough for him bestie

unless you want him to turn into either jelly or a puree, try to tone it down, just a little haha

Satan

i cannot decide if he'd be judging you or encouraging you

either way, it's subtle

seems like the type to hand you notes that you didn't know he was taking about the ride and what you could improve

Asmo

he seems like he would enjoy it

plus, he can get tons of cute passenger princess photos!

as long as you take him to the stores you promised, he doesn't care how you get there

Beel

he would not care

if you like to go fast, you like to go fast

although do be mindful, he will be eating in the car and if you stop abruptly, the snacks will go flying everywhere. choose your battles lol

Belphie

let's be so real

he is asleep. car rides are ideal for napping

just don't take sharp turns or do anything to wake him up, and he will not care

Diavolo

he loves new experiences!

anything that might kill lucifer is something he's dying to try

and what better person to try it with then with someone lucifer can't say no to?

Barbatos

he might not look it

but he also tends to speed lol

since he's barb, he always knows exactly when to slow down and be careful and always lets you know when to do so as well

Simeon

he's very chill about it actually

he can usually be found in the back seat reading a book

if he's the one behind the wheel, he's a very safe driver and is the one people call a slow poke (see thirteen)

Luke

he's always asking you not to do it because he's afraid for your wellbeing

he gifts you a keychain for your car keys that he personally blessed

at the very least, you never speed when he's in the car because it's luke

Solomon

i'm very torn between him not knowing how to drive at all and also being a chaotic driver

if he can't drive he insist you teach him

if he's also an agent of chaos on the road, he's for sure timing you and enabling you lol

Mephisto

his dramatic ass is for sure the one gripping the handles overhead and gripping his chest like a mom teaching her kid to drive

to be fair he probably doesn’t have a license because he has a chauffeur

just tell him what you’re doing is totally legal and that you know better haha

Thirteen

she's excited for the ride

she is one-hundred percent the one encouraging your behavior

will also make fun of all of the people you pass on the road by calling them slow pokes lol

Raphael 

he just does not get it

why do you ignore the set rules for the road?

honestly, he accepts this fact pretty easily and while he could get you to stop, he's kind of interested in seeing where this might go

[delicrieux]

…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. he's more sensitive than he looks.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. swearing wc. 3.5k author’s note. just wanna say a big thank u to everyone that stuck w this story and loved it along w me. there's still one chapter left, so here's some mini angst before our little happy ever after. also, i've recently realized that nothing actually happens in this story. there's no plot. you just hang out with gojo and the rest. that's it. no great fights or conflict or anything. just spending time with him.

ੈ ✩‧₊˚

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | twny masterlist | < back | next >

CHAPTER 13: the hakone incident

you wake up smothered in an embrace, which isn't uncommon.

what is slightly more uncommon is that gojo is wound around you so tightly that even his dumb, big paw has got your breast held hostage. not much there to sink his claws in, yet sunk they are, still. you wiggle and grasp and dig, trying to extricate yourself from this prison, but the soft fabric that rubs against his crotch with every small movement has him hissing in your ear.

“sa-”

“mine,” is the first thing he mumbles, words laced with sleep. he cradles you tighter, hides his face in your hair. you pat his arm, ignoring his sleep-addled state.

some sort of half-coherent mumble is slurred into your pillow as a response.

“not gonna bother translating that,” you utter under your breath – it’s too early to be irritated with him, and he doesn’t deserve it also, since he is much too cute. however, “lemme go? i need to go to the bathroom.”

“no,” he stubbornly refuses.

“don't be like that.”

a soft groan, then a kiss to the exposed curve of your neck, and one more to the edge of your ear. his fingers twitch at the flesh, kneading and tickling, “fine, i need to go too. let's go together.”

“you wanna hold hands while i'm in the stall or something?”

“yes.”

he is unreasonable, but that’s hardly a surprise.

you disentangle your legs from his, untying his arms from your torso, then turning to sit up properly. instantly, your stomach flips. in the bleak, early sunlight, gojo is the first thing you focus on, sleep-dazed and smiling lovingly in your direction. cheeks creased and swollen with grogginess, hair a complete mess, eyes still crusted. you wipe a drop of drool from the corner of his mouth with your thumb.

once, he told you that he always sleeps the best when you’re sleeping next to him. maybe that’s why he’s so clingy, “morning.”

“yeah?” he mutters. one hazy eye blinks, then the other, and you can’t help grinning at the sight, “hi. hello. good morning, how are you? ‘m just the guy you're looking for, can i be of service?”

you try so hard to press your lips into a thin line, but instead they stretch more and more, “c'mon, up. long day ahead.”

*

you had expected to take the morning train to hakone, but instead, with your bags dutifully carried by a lanky idiot, you are led to sleek, black car parked inconspicuously close to jujutsu technical. suspiciously, you eye the tinted windows of the driver’s seat, expecting a personal chauffer – which would be way too much, but also quintessential gojo. when the car keys jingle in his hand, you blink stupidly, smothered under the sunlight.

“you have a license?” you blurt.

“yeah,” gojo says smugly, opening the trunk and dumping the bags inside, “to kill.”

“the circus must be missing their clown,” you state sharply, though you feel a bit silly for not knowing such a thing about the man you have spent 3 years hating and a few months liking enough to be willingly glued to his side.

he snorts, fixing his glasses and shutting the trunk. all suave and cool, he opens the passenger’s door for you, “got any red lipstick in that little purse of yours? could kiss my nose a bunch of times, see if it honks after.”

the urge to shove your elbow into his stomach and watch how he doubles over in pain is almost too tempting, but you resist. after all, you do have the mind to enjoy the view of his flexing arms as you enter the vehicle, the sight disappearing as he circles around to enter from the other side.

the interior smells nice and new – it’s definitely expensive, but your knowledge of cars begins and ends in that they have four wheels and roll fast when you press a pedal. you can practically feel the self-satisfaction radiating off his person, especially as his hand glides along the steering wheel. it takes a few moments of useless fiddling and some gears shifting until he begins driving. his hand seats itself upon your thigh, as though it had always been its intention.

“seatbelt,” he reminds, easily maneuvering out of the parking lot.

you slide the black band across your chest, buckling the lock, “thanks,” he mutters, palming your leg for good measure, “safe and sound.”

then, he slams the accelerator so quick and hard you're thrown back into the plush seat. the car screeches like a furious beast wrongfully insulted, engine purring loudly as its owner cackles. oh no.

here is where you learn that gojo is a terrible driver, as the speed limit is more of a loose guideline and traffic laws do not exist. he speeds past red lights that have you clutching the handlebar for your dear life, and he seems to delight in your mortified expression each time his eyes stray from the road, which is too much to be considered safe.

miraculously, you make it past the confusing and intricate tokyo streets in one piece and breathe a little easier. that is until you get to the highway, and he zooms between lanes like he’s playing a video game, jumping between cars and testing the limits of your patience to a level so extreme that you can hardly take it.

“could you slow down a little?” your voice has acquired a tremble, and you must be paler than you have been when you awoke. you think he’ll ignore you over the music, but he doesn’t.

he eases up just a little, and you remove your hand from the handlebar. it’s numb and tingly and aches from holding so tightly.

“i have some cds in the back,” he says, pinching your thigh. you think he doesn’t deserve to touch you like this, but unfortunately, it’s comforting, so you allow it. if you crash, you decide you will grab him and shield yourself with his body – his infinity will stop the impact, and you’ll probably live.

you twist and dig around, and once the cds are safely in your lap, your brows shoot up, “kat-tun?”

his lips stretch into a cheeky smile, and all of his grievances are forgiven with that, “they have a few good songs.”

“all of their songs are good!” you defend hotly. still, today is proving to be one surprise after the other – did he seriously listen to their whole discography because it’s your favorite band? if yes, that is very sweet. if he’s lying, well, you will not fight for the truth, because this has made you happy.

you change the music with barely contained enthusiasm and hum along. your initial impression must’ve been wrong, because gojo knows what he’s doing. he always does, and you reward him with a sweet smile for all of his efforts, which inspires him to lean for a kiss that nearly steers you both off the highway.

*

the first place you visit in hakone is not the hotel room gojo has rented, but the mall. you locate an expensive-looking restaurant and order your lunch – you, something modest and normal, and he enough to feed a family of seven. it’s always mildly fascinating to watch him chow down like his life depends on it, if not a bit off-putting.

“no one’s gonna take it from you,” you tell him when he slurps a noodle and almost chokes.

he glares at you over his shades, “shut up, ‘m hungry.”

you try to steal a piece from his bowl but he jabs your hand with chopsticks seemingly with the intention to break through skin. you yelp and shy away, wounded and afraid. he doesn’t even seem sorry.

he makes it up to you by treating you to coffee and a slice of cake, which he devours after you had a tiny bite. this is becoming a problem, but he looks very happy and doesn’t let go of your hand, planting quick, small kisses on the place he hurt, so you, once again, forgive him, as is the standard of your relationship.

shopping is next, and he steers you to each and every boutique that even marginally catches your attention. you pile everything you like on his arms, as though he was your personal assistant, and he, surprisingly, doesn’t complain. for the first half of you maxing out his card, he was stood outside the dressing room like a guard dog, shuffling back and forth, back and forth, waiting for you to pull back the curtain and reveal yourself so he could supply you with a verdict, which was always, without fault, “we’re buying that.”

he grew bored, though, and started whining that his feet hurt. invited himself inside and sat on the small chair in the very corner of the cramped space, very attentive when you changed in and out of your clothes. he even helped with the zippers and the buttons, and eventually, he got a boner from all this touching, so you had to stay for another good 10 minutes till he calmed down.

the blaring white lights, and you sweating. you stare at him, disappointed. he looks mildly uncomfortable, squirming in his seat and trying not to look at you, the mountain of clothes you discarded heaped on his lap.

“what am i gonna do with you?” you wonder aloud with a small sigh.

“i can’t help it. you’re hot.”

by the end of it all, you have acquired new perfume, a new set of luxurious makeup, and too many clothes to know what to do with. he carries your bags without you having to ask and leads you to get new underwear, but you make him wait outside the shop for that since you’re not risking another incident again.

*

when evening dwindles into night, he suggest a car ride around the city. the ocean breeze ruffles your hair when you roll down the window to admire the watercolor sights around you – the buildings, the people, the greenery, the mountain peak pitch black against the backdrop of the sky. you drive around aimlessly, and he's more subdued and mindful of the signs and the blinking traffic lights, his hand leaving your body only when he needs to switch gears. it always comes back with a little knead, and it always makes you smile.

“look, they're preparing for the festival,” you tell him as you pass by a closed off street of decorated stalls and convenience stores that look like they have been closed for the night, with two police men stationed across the entrance.

“you've ever been to lake ashinoko?” he questions idly.

“nope,” you turn another corner, the streets a little quieter, “it has the big torii gate, right?”

“yeah,” gojo hums, “we'll go there to watch the fireworks,” he seems distracted, “pretty stuff.”

“looking forward to it,” you reply, too interested in a display of colorful confectionary and sweets to decipher the tone of his voice, “where are we heading to?”

“dunno,” he mutters, knuckles slowly relaxing, “just around. you wanna head back?”

“nah,” you glance at him, a brow arched in curiosity. he looks oddly flushed. “you seem a little tired. wanna stop?”

“always worried about me,” he clicks his tongue, “’m a big boy.”

you pause for a moment. getou's words spring to mind, and you feel a bit nervous.

he's more sensitive than he looks.

maybe now's not the best time to bring up the clearly crumbling state of his best friend, but uncomfortable conversations don't have the luxury of waiting, nor do they ever fit into the right moment. you chew on your bottom lip in thought, as if the words would make themselves known without any effort from your part, but you find yourself no longer stuck on getou's haunting look but rather the way gojo seems a bit off his usual cheeky and snarky self.

you want to be a good friend. you care about both of them, and it hurts, in an odd, dull ache somewhere in your chest, when neither want your help.

is it so wrong to worry about gojo? you have come to terms with the idea that you like him, like him so much that sometimes, you feel half-crazy with a need to be by his side, constantly and without interruption, like today, like, hopefully, for many more days to come.

still, you are aware of the many walls and barriers he has erected to guard himself. and you, the person that likes him the most and has his attention almost at every given moment, still understand very little of who he is. you don't want to linger on the question if you ever will.

you must take example of haibara's endless positivity. step by step. even slow progress is still progress.

“i worry about everyone,” you eventually offer, more somber than you originally intended. still, it gets a faint snicker from him, and your cheeks puff with a mixture of amusement and relief. “you're not special, you know.”

“i hope that isn't true. i'd be crushed,” he teases back.

there it is. the little deflection that always makes you smile, despite how obviously it diverts from what's truly on his mind. it's a defense mechanism, you reckon. that said, you are not unaware that he has offered you little hints here and there, things he would only disclose in the dead of the night in the hush between soft laughs and your pillows.

without staring at him, you take a deep breath. heart light and fingers threaded against the seam of your shirt. here it goes, you tell yourself.

“i didn't used to worry so much, to be honest,” you confess, hoping he will at least listen before undoubtedly cutting you off, “but, i guess recently, i’m starting to see things from new perspectives. i know you don’t need it, but i still—”

he makes a sharp turn that doesn't seem coordinated enough, and suddenly, a stop-street opens to the left, overlooking a rocky beach and calm waters of the vast stretch of hakone's inlet. gojo parks dangerously close to the edge of the cliff and lets the air settle.

“honesty hour?” his smile is familiar to you, perhaps a bit too bitter to your liking. “alright. if we're playing this game, then i'd say that worrying is dumb, especially if it’s me you’re worried about. really stupid, actually. i don’t see the point in getting emotional over shit like that.”

“well, it’s not being emotional, it’s just—”

“no, shush,” he squeezes the length of your leg. you blink down at where he's touching you, and you look up when you realize he means to have the attention for just this. “look, what i'm saying is, i’m me, yeah? you can call me conceited all you want, but it’s the truth. i mean, i, okay, fine, fuck it,” he sighs, like he's annoyed, and you're just as grateful you can't fully see his expression as he likely is of yours, “a weak heart is not something to particularly proud of. i'm not someone that requires babysitting.”

this is likely the first time he has ever been so upfront about anything in his life, ever. maybe getou has seen this side of him, but even if that was the case, you'd never know for certain. you don't, however, appreciate the slight anger in his tone.

“no one's babysitting you,” you placate, careful to test his reaction before continuing, “we spend almost all of our time together, how is this surprising? and i don't think anyone would make an argument against you being the strongest, but you're still a person.”

you wonder when his hand slipped from your knee. he doesn't react for a good few seconds, as though gathering his thoughts, though you suspect, whether he was or not, this is not something he intended to dig deep enough to expose.

“well, yeah, duh,” he responds obtusely, but he offers nothing more.

this has gone about as well as you've expected, which is to say it has gone terribly, and it’s all his fault, because you were intending to go in a completely different direction.

“still a person,” he utters, and now he definitely sounds irritated, “the hell's that supposed to mean? you think i'm gonna roll over and let some curse get me or something? are you stupid?”

your stomach lurches like he has landed a heavy blow on it, and you need a moment to swallow past the ugly burn in your throat that your entire face stings with. somehow, what irks you the most is that you are hurt he would assume that you, of all people, would ever force something he doesn’t want onto him, as though the thought itself has made you a villain in his eyes.

as though stating a simple fact that he is human too is somehow insulting, somehow a threat to his title as gojo satoru and each and every connotation that comes with that honored name.

you have never asked him of anything. he's the one that started picking on you first, physically imposing himself into your life. he's the one that changed over the years and started showing new sides, he's the one that begs you to go on trips with him and buys you things and likes to hold you as he sleeps and complains that you make him horny even in situations that really call for tender affection instead of sexual advances.

you don't even ask him to like you like you like him, since you know that it would be met with harsh rejection. he would take it as a demand, no doubt, to be on your level – someone weak-hearted. his emotions have proven to be more volatile than his actions, and perhaps you’ve accidentally stumbled into something a bit out of your level of expertise. you can't brush it off with a snide, vaguely amusing remark like you usually would, nor do you want to.

you’ve changed, too.

still.

his hand is back as a vice around your knee. your jaw clenches.

that was uncalled for.

“you're being mean,” you mumble, your words hanging stale between you.

he sighs after what feels like an eternity, sounding long-suffering and tired,  “sorry. that came out wrong.”

“you've just started a fight for no reason.”

“what, you crying? tough luck, maybe try being—”

“fine,” you don’t let him finish, unbuckling your seatbelt, “sorry for getting so emotional. see you at the hotel.”

“what?” he snaps, head swerving in your direction with a new, searing glare, “no. jesus. just. no. what?”

“i’m heading back,” you insist, but you are stilled in your attempts at fleeing by his hold. it'll bruise if you really want to test how badly he's going to grip you, probably, but this unexpected argument has really shaken you. he's only ever been this prickly at the start of year two, when the sight of you invoked some long-simmering resentment that he showed by cowing at you from each and every corner, like some hellish echo, “let me go, please.”

“hold on,” his fingers dig, and despite how you try to swat at him, he doesn't budge, “there's no need for this. i'm sorry, okay? don't get out the fucking car, for fuck's sake, i'm serious.”

“satoru,”

“no,” he snarls, the sound sudden and vicious that you flinch from its force, “i said, no. i don't—you're not going anywhere. i'm sorry, okay, i'm sorry, i'm an asshole, i know, but just, just listen for a sec.”

you slump against your seat, lips pursed and arms tightly crossed in a way you know he finds childish but that, unfortunately for him, is a legitimate response to his infuriating behavior. to further throw him off, you make it very clear he does not have your attention, and that even if he did, it wouldn't do him any good.

you feel him slowly relax and tremble before petting at the little scratches he has accidentally carved in your skin in a way that lets you know he’s truly sorry. he lets out an uneasy sigh, fingers twitching every few seconds.

stillness. finally, silence, except for the wind that howls and the crash of the ocean below.

“i was talking bullshit,” he begins, the effort of it wearing him down to a barely audible, pathetic volume. “it's just, i can't... i don't know how, okay? that's the truth.”

“can't what?”

“you know,” he gestures ambiguously with the hand he isn't restraining you with, “there are certain expectations i gotta meet. i can't disappoint everyone. i mean, they wouldn't, i don't think, but... look, i'm sure you understand.”

“no, i don't, actually,” you snip, “i don't even understand what we're fighting about anymore.”

“i, just, it's, okay, whatever, fuck,” he thumps his head back against his seat, and the next words leave him in one big, excruciating spill, “i'm just not very good with feelings. this is all fucking crazy.”

like most secrets, they're out before he can reel them back. his lips slam shut so quickly that it turns into a tense line. you watch him, he watches you, and his face melts into something shameful. his eyes dart to the steering wheel and back, and you really hope he isn't planning on smashing the accelerator again to head face first into the rocks to escape whatever the hell is happening in this car.

“i'm not good at this,” he repeats slowly, painfully, as though you’re speaking different languages, “i don't want you to cry.”

“i'm not crying. i'm pissed off and i want to go home.”

“don't go home,” he rushes to say, “don't go anywhere. i'm not even sure where we are exactly, so just, calm down.”

“i can find my way,” you sniff irritably, and he suddenly looks utterly miserable, which you think is very unfair.

“christ, you couldn't even find the fucking bathroom in the mall, do you seriously think i'm gonna let you walk around alone at night cuz you're a bit angry with me?”

gojo really has a talent of saying the wrong things at the most right of times.

you scowl, “that's because i was following you!” yes, perhaps you did turn off your brain and mindlessly waddle after him, trusting him to deliver you to your desired location. is it a crime to be caught in the spell that is gojo satoru's enigmatic appeal? that should be considered a blessing instead of an inconvenience, surely, “don't patronize me. and if you don't quit being shitty, you'll be watching the fireworks alone, cuz i'm taking my ass to the first train and heading the hell back to tokyo.”

“sorry,” he bows his head, forehead softly smacking against your shoulder, “please don't go. i'm sorry.”

“sorry you went super shit on me?” you demand, still sulking, “or sorry you snapped?”

“sorry for... all of it, alright? i'll make it up to you. do you want new jewelry? you didn't get any. like earrings, or something. i'll get nice ones, okay?”

your eyes nearly bug out of your head, “huh? stop freaking me out. i sincerely hope you realize i don't hang around you to get free stuff. that's so shallow. do you even know me?”

“god,” he exhales heavily, like he's very, very close to banging his head against the wheel out of sheer exasperation. “i'm trying, you know. cut me some slack here.”

yes, you see he's trying his utmost best, and that's why you're already softening. but the sting still lingers. you will be gracious and assume that his attempt at buying back your affection was borne out of panic and is, overall, a genuine mistake, or maybe a show of something beneath the layers – who is he if not gojo satoru, the strongest, the richest, the prodigal son, the untouchable, unapproachable sorcerer? gojo doesn't deal with his mistakes gracefully. he overcompensates. he hides, and this time, he has failed to hide from you.

“and i don't want you to pay back the ice cream, either,” you finally mumble, tentatively reaching up to pet the mess of his fluffy hair as a show of good faith. an olive branch, because apparently, you will always possess a clearer mind than him.

he’s immobile for a second, and then he burrows even deeper into the material of your shirt, as though hoping to somehow melt away from it, and a heavy breath collapses out of him, “this is bad for my ego. don't ever take that control away from me. it's wrong. feels wrong.”

“fine. whatever. you win. happy? nothing happened, yada yada. friends,” you grumble.

“gross,” he groans, despite the clear warmth in his voice that makes your stomach flutter, “being a friend sounds a bit lame. but yeah. friends. and we're watching the fireworks tomorrow, yes? say yes.”

“okay,” you acquiesce, despite your reservations, “maybe.”

“yes,” he insists, stubbornly holding his position on your shoulder. he does, however, pout, and that lightens your mood significantly. “we are. right?”

“you have to be less annoying.”

“fine.”

“fine, and,” you start. you don't want to be cold with him, but you don't quite feel ready to let this go, “i want to sleep in a different room.”

he startles away from you like you’ve slapped him, “no. bad idea. forget it, it's not happening.”

“don't fight me on this, satoru,” you say, and his eyes widen slightly. “it's really not up for debate.”

“are you mad?”

“yeah,” you tell him, and it's true. “i'm not... mad-mad, but like. i need a little space.”

“okay,” he swallows thickly, like he doesn't like the thought of you so much as existing further than a ten meter radius from him, “got it. no problem.”

that must've hurt.

“just for today,” you assure him, “promise.”

he nods slowly. then, “can i… can i at least kiss you?”

you shake your head. no, not now. not yet.

“right, okay, of course,” he mutters emptily and sits back. with some space in between you again, you find his lack of warmth much more pronounced, not to mention the distance he puts there. for the first time today, when starts the car and shifts gears, the edge of his fingers doesn't brush your skin.

the drive back to the hotel is agonizingly silent.

additional author's note: i think dating gojo would be very difficult since he's so emotionally stunted that he can't express himself and he's too afraid to try. i think he would also have significant trouble being on the same level as someone he considers weaker than him (not in a bad way). the only reason he even formed a connection with suguru was because suguru, at one point, was also the strongest, and he was the only person that understood him on that level. reader isn't the strongest, and the connection she offers is really different than what he's used to. he lashes out, but he still apologizes sincerely. i also thinks he takes her for granted, much like he takes getou. he's supposed to be in control because he's the strongest, and he's likely troubled about his own feelings, that's why he's so frustrated.

don't be too angry with him, he's really trying :(

but anyway, stan kami-chan because she is a baddie and if a baddie threatened to leave me i'd be clawing at her begging her to stay too

tags (bold couldn't tag!). @shokosbunny , @jotarohat , @alygator77 , @fortunatelyfurrygiver , @finnydraws , @mastermasterlist1p1 , @eolivy , @letsmyy , @staruus , @k0z3me , @damnshorty , @kaeyakaikai , @n4melesspers0n , @midnightwriter21 , @sillymercury , @byakuya61085 , @stillnotherapy , @mydearchoso , @plutoisaghoul , @byerno6 , @bqvz , @harryzcherry , @noira-l , @your-sleeparalysisdem0n , @satoryaa , @cccandynecklaces , @stuffeddeer , @cherriee-ee ,

[jjunberry]

❝ forever with me ❞

synopsis ⟢ can't promise that things won't be broken but i swear that i will never leave,please stay forever with me…when you’re forced to sit next to the one person you despise the most during a road trip, things get tense as emotions are at an all time high. (WIP)

pairing ⟢ nishimura riki x fem!reader

genre ⟢ enemies to lovers, forced proximity, non-idol au, slice of life, angst, fluff

warnings ⟢ arguments, cursing, niki & reader being assholes, jungwon and jake playing cupid??

wc ⟢ tba mlist ⟢

your eyebrows furrowed at jungwon, who stood across from you. “you have got to be kidding me,” your arms crossed. he smiled sheepishly, “i’m sorry but this year, it’s your turn for the back seat.” the back seat which you’ve always avoided since every year niki sat back there. “jungwon, this trip is a four hour drive, you want me to sit next to him for four hours?” jungwon sighed at your question. “with the drivers rotating, you two don’t drive so it’s easier this way.” curse you for not having your drivers license.

“i am not happy about this,” your arms crossed as you plopped down on your couch. jungwon sat next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. “it’s only for the ride there, you can manage yeah? just take your headphones.” you sighed and nodded, “i’m only doing this for you and the others, don’t expect a peep out of me.” jungwon smiled at your words, knowing there was no way you’d keep quiet against niki.

tag list: @304files @jjunieworld @miaroseindreamland @babymochibeargyu ..(leave an ask if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic or added to my permanent tag list)

release date? tba

author’s note: this was heavily inspired by if i’m james dean, you’re audrey hepburn by sleeping with sirens lolol the emo to kpop pipline is crazy

love , echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Be still, my foolish heart.

Pairing/Au: Soft single dad!Joel Miller x Curvy f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 8816 (I know, I’m sorry 💀)

Rating: +18, MDNI, NSFW

Summary: A meet cute at the clinic where you work leads to finding the best date you could ask for… our one and only Joel Miller.

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, meet cute, a little bit of a slow burn, reader is curvy, has breasts and vagina and wears a dress, apart from that no other specific description is given, age gap (reader is 35, Joel is 46), Joel is a single dad and he is soft (what can I say, I’m a sucker for a soft Joel okay), reader doesn’t trust Joel immediately and she thinks he might be dangerous (he’s not, he’s cutest), Sarah is alive and well and she’s mentioned multiple times, mention of Tommy, Joel is a contractor, unprotected p in v (wrap it up IRL, folks!), pussy pronouns, mention of use of oral contraceptives (reader is on the pill), fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), dirty talks, elderly people being fragile and sick, slight mention of Joel’s prescriptions including antidepressant (game Joel took it so I put it in there), I know that prescribing medicine doesn't exactly work like that in America (not even in Italy for that matter) but allow me a poetic license (😂), reader has insecurities about her body, mention of bullying and previous toxic relationships that reader has been subjected to, internal reader’s voice inserts, pet names (pretty lady, good girl, honey, sunshine, baby, babe, angel), squirting (not specifically mentioned but still), Joel is feral and reader too.

I don't think I forgot anything but if I notice it I'll add it right away.

I made a mood board for the first time in my life, I know it's not great but I tried 💀 English is not my first language so please be gentle (I also have Covid at the moment… yeah, it’s 2024 and I caught it for the third time, lucky me), I hope there aren't too many mistakes, no beta so it's all my fault LOL, no proofreading. Title is an Hozier quote. Of course, because I love this man.

Oh sh*t, here’s what I was forgetting: the mirror scene is inspired by Polin (yep, it was a great scene ❤️) but I think I personalized and changed it enough to make it just Joel and reader's, at least I hope.

(Reader works in a clinic because I do this job so yes, she has this thing in common with me besides being curvy. Every time I write a curvy reader is so personal to me)

I might write something else about these two if you like, I really love this pairing and I hope I’m not the only one, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! Thanks to anyone who will read this 💐

You are at your desk, absorbed in an email you are writing to a patient who is asking for prescriptions for medicines. The clinic is empty and quiet and this doesn’t happen often so you’re trying to keep up with emails and messages and phone calls that you have received in the last hour.

Suddenly the door opens and a man enters the clinic, at first you don't even look at him, you just say "Good morning" and continue typing.

He clears his throat and says “good morning” and stops in front of you, on the other side of the desk. He’s clearly waiting for you to shift your attention to him so you turn and look at him. For a moment you’re speechless. He’s a gorgeous man.

Tall and broad, dark hair slightly streaked with silver, strong aquiline nose, beard and mustache framing a pair of plump lips, perfectly designed jawline and neck.

Stunning.

You didn’t expect anyone like this ‘cause really, the doctor you work for has hundreds of elderly patients or families with children and you have never been interested in married men, you don’t even look at them but anyway, you never saw a single person that was attractive to you in this place before.

You smile politely as you ask “do you need anything?” and you want to sink into your seat because you don't even have makeup on and you're wearing the first things you found in the closet this morning. An old pair of jeans and a black top.

“Yes please, I need some prescriptions. I just changed doctor because my previous one is now retired. I always sent an email to his secretary but this is the first time I've asked for my prescriptions here so I thought I'd stop by in person especially since I was in the area. I’m working in the building next door”

Bingo.

That’s why you never saw him.

You quickly look at his hand on the desk for a ring and it’s not there.

His hands are gorgeous though, big strong working and experienced hands.

“Sure, can you tell me your name please?” you ask trying to keep your tone professional while being excited to know more about him.

“Joel Miller” he says and you find the way his tongue rolls up to pronounce the r at the end so delicious it’s almost embarrassing.

For a moment you're almost afraid he might hear your thoughts.

You turn back to the computer typing in his name and a moment later his medical records appear.

46 years old, born in late September, he lives in Austin. You look at his prescriptions and notice a reflux medication, another for high blood pressure, and an antidepressant.

Oh.

What happened to him?

“Well, Mister Miller, what do you need today?”

“You don’t have to call me Mister Miller, even if you’re younger than me I think?”

You look down in bewilderment, not expecting much familiarity from him since it’s the first time you’ve seen him but you answer anyway “Yes, actually. I’m 35”

“So you can call me Joel” he says with a smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth and hopeful eyes of someone who asks not to make him feel old.

“Of course I can” you hurry to answer “So… Joel, what do you need today?”

He gives you a grateful look and replies, “I don’t remember what it’s called but… my medicine for high blood pressure.”

“Oh yes, this one” you nod and proceed to prepare it, “just a moment, Mr Miller… uhm I meant Joel, I need to get the doctor to sign it,” you tell him as the printer gurgles, spitting out the prescription paper.

You stand up from your chair, feeling your legs a little unsteady, and once you’re in front of him his height impresses you even more. He’s imposing, you’re a curvy girl and yet you feel so tiny in front of him.

You notice that he looks you up and down and seems pleased, his eyes reflecting an approval that makes you very satisfied.

You move quickly to the doctor's office, enter apologizing and have him sign the prescription. When you leave you find him standing in front of your desk waiting, he looks at you again and you notice a certain sparkle in his eyes.

"Here you go" you say and hand him the prescription.

You feel his fingers lightly brush yours and a shiver of pleasure runs down your spine.

“Thank you,” he smiles at you, “you are very kind.”

“No problem, have a good day,” and you approach the desk to sit down again. You see him hesitate for a moment, as if he wanted to add something.

“Do you need anything else?” You ask curiously and a part of you really hopes that he will ask you for your phone number or if you want to go get a drink after work.

“Oh no, no thanks, see you next time”

His gaze drops to the floor as he says this, as if he's embarrassed, which you like because it feels like you're not the only one in the room who's been pleasantly shaken up by this encounter.

He puts his hand on the door handle and turns once more, smiling shyly.

You smile back feeling a sense of tenderness so premature that you wonder if you're losing your mind.

You go back to work but all you think about is him, you want to know more.

You enter his name again in the search bar and reopen his folder. Joel Miller. You wonder who he really is and what he does but apart from his pathologies and his date of birth you don't find much else about him. His address is there but you certainly won't use it for unorthodox purposes such as accidentally ending up in his neighborhood, you would pass for a stalker as well as a very unprofessional secretary.

Nothing stops you from noticing that he lives in a very quiet residential neighborhood though.

Will he be married? There are men who do not wear a wedding ring so it might not be safe to rely only on the fact of not having seen it.

You hesitate a bit before doing so because you already feel awkward enough for someone you've only seen once but in the end you type his address in the search bar to see if other people who live with him in the same house appear, usually families tend to have the same doctor for convenience.

You hold your breath as you stare at the white screen waiting and after a few seconds a result appears.

Sarah Miller.

“There I knew it, he’s married” you think, huffing and shrugging, but then you look better and realize that this Sarah is 14 years old. “So… he has a daughter”

No one else showed up in the results so you assume he is not married but he may have been and then got divorced. Unless his wife chose another doctor but that seems very strange to you.

You contemplate trying to Google his name but then decide it's best to wait until you get home, you can't use the work computer for personal stuff.

You sigh and go back to your work, completing your search just a second before the doctor comes out and asks you if you have any urgent messages.

Today everything is strangely quiet though, even if you wasted time looking for information on Joel you finish all the work, not without thinking about him at least once an hour. You feel silly, you shouldn’t have any kind of thought about someone you don’t know and with whom you have only exchanged a few words, the fact that he seemed interested and that he was about to ask something while he was about to leave could also be false projections that you have made in your head. And yet…once home, after taking a shower and putting on clean pajamas, you throw yourself on the sofa nibbling on a sandwich and open your laptop.

You open Google and type his name and the first result that comes up is “Miller - construction company”

It could be him, now that you think about it he mentioned he was working on the building next door which is in fact under construction.

You scroll down to the bottom of the page where the owners are listed and you see two names, Joel and Tommy Miller. You assume that Tommy is his brother. You go back to the Google page for a moment and check if there are any namesakes but no one else in the city has the same name. And just like that, you know what he does.

You don’t think you can do anything with this information, you live in a new apartment and everything is in perfect working order so you just have to wait. Before leaving he said “see you next time”, so now you find yourself wondering when the next time will be. Probably in a month, when he will need a new prescription.

Such a long time. But maybe this will help you, you tell yourself. It's just a passing thing, you tell yourself. You can't be so foolish as to project your fantasies onto him. You decide that this is okay, you'll just get over it.

_____________________

After a week you almost got Joel out of your mind. You worked quietly, met the usual old people who came to the clinic to be examined, no sign of him. You'd be lying if you didn't think about it anymore but you stopped yourself from doing something foolish like contacting him for a fake construction job to try to meet him.

You are preparing some prescriptions when the doctor comes out of the office and asks if you could please take some medicine to the home of a very elderly patient. It is something you usually do not do but the caregiver cannot leave her alone and her son is away for work all week so she had no choice but asking you to do that. It will take up extra time because you will have to go to the pharmacy and then to her house, the doctor offers to pay you overtime but you know the lady and say that it is not a problem, you can do it without compensation.

Of course you can do that for Rose.

When she was better and could move around quite independently you often talked when she came to the clinic, she immediately took a liking to you and treated you like a niece, she would bring you gifts, vegetables from her garden, other times sweets cooked by her.

She is a dear lady, you are happy to be able to do her a favor.

At 5:00 you leave the office and head to the pharmacy, pick up her prescriptions, and get back in the car to drive to her neighborhood.

Rose lives in a nice street with many rather large houses, well-kept gardens and white picket fences.

You knock on the door and Georgia, the caregiver hired by Rose's family to assist her, opens it.

You already know her, she has accompanied Rose to the clinic many times but lately her health has worsened a lot and she can no longer leave the house.

“Hi, Georgia! I I brought Rose’s medicines”

“Hey! How long has it been since we saw each other? Come in!” She says with a big smile.

Georgia is a very sweet person and a great professional, she has taken great care of Rose all these years. She is a qualified nurse and the granddaughter of a long time friend of Rose. Georgia had moved to Texas from Arkansas to attend college and since then she had always lived at her grandmother's house, who lived a few miles from Rose's house.

She took the job because she loved her and when her grandmother passed away Rose was very close to her.

Georgia offers you a coffee and some chocolate cookies she has prepared, which you gladly accept.

You chat a little while Rose is resting and then when it's time to wake her up to take her evening medicine you accompany Georgia to her room to say goodbye to Rose.

She is lying motionless in a bed, now forced to ask Georgia for help with everything, she is almost 85 years old now and you are so sorry to see her like this. Until a few years ago she was an energetic, witty woman, with lots of hobbies, she loved reading, gardening, cooking and going to the movies. Now she was a ghost of herself. And the worst thing was probably that her mind was still working, so she realized what was happening to her and this made her even sadder and more helpless. Her body did not respond, while her mind understood everything.

She recognizes you right away and greets you so sweetly with her now faint voice. It breaks your heart to see her like this.

She asks you for a hug and you put your arms around her little shoulders, holding her gently. She's always been good to you, she doesn't deserve this.

You leave the room, wiping away a tear, without letting Rose see you, and say goodbye to Georgia, promising to come back and visit them soon.

You stand in the driveway feeling helpless for a moment, you would like to do so much more. Some patients have become like an extended family to you, you have known them for years and seeing some of them fold in on themselves, increasingly frail and elderly is so bad.

You look up and see a black pickup truck driving down the road. There’s a man in it and he looks familiar. He pulls into the driveway two houses down and gets out. And oh, shit.

It’s Joel.

Joel Miller.

He lives in the same neighborhood as Rose and you didn’t even registered that in your mind before.

You don't know what to do, whether to get in the car and drive away pretending nothing happened or take the opportunity and go say hello to him.

It seems silly to say hello to someone you've only seen once, no matter how attractive they are. You walk to your car, rummaging through your bag for your keys.

You're about to curse because never once do you find something in your bag, it doesn't even matter what it is. Big bag? You find nothing. Small bag? You find nothing either.

Your eyes move for a moment to the asphalt and you see two boots approaching, you look up again and you see two legs wrapped in dark jeans streaked with paint and of course to those legs is attached the rest of Joel Miller's wonderful body.

Your eyes widen and you watch him stop in front of you, beautiful as a God. Even more beautiful than the first time you saw him.

“Hi! I saw you across the street and I was pretty sure it was you. I almost made a fool of myself, but hey, I was right!”

You lose your words, it's as if they've slipped out of your brain and melted at your feet.

At least you solved a dilemma, he greeted you first.

“Hi” you say shyly.

This doesn't make you any less nervous, you were trying to sneak out of this neighborhood unnoticed and you could say that he ruined everything and you don't know him well enough to know whether to be grateful or keep running away pretending to be very busy.

He has a daughter, a respectable job, a brother, lives in a nice neighborhood, and seems to lead a regular life. Is that enough to trust these days? Probably not.

This dude can be anyone, a serial killer, a criminal, a drug dealer, a thief, whatever.

How do you know he doesn't sleep with a gun on his nightstand or keep dead bodies in his basement?

Trust no one, is something you learned from a very early age and you always stood by it, safety first.

Have you been wanting to see him again for a whole week? Yes.

Did you just realize that you know nothing and that you might be risking something? This too.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” He asks, running his hand through his curls in a way that drives you instantly wild.

God, why is he so gorgeous, this doesn’t help at all.

You can always run to Rose and call the police if he suggests something strange and you’re in the middle of the street in broad daylight so you decide to take the risk and say the truth

“I came to deliver medicines to a lady who lives here” you reply, acting like he doesn’t have any kind of effect on you.

“Oh, so this is something you do? I didn’t know that”

“No, not regularly. I actually did it because it’s Rose, you know. She’s an adorable old lady”

He nods as if he knows exactly what you're talking about and actually says, "Sure, Rose. I know her. She used to babysit my daughter many years ago."

Okay, those are some great credentials. So maybe you can trust Joel Miller? Isn't he a lunatic homicidal? Maybe not.

Obviously you pretend you don’t know anything about Sarah and ask, “Oh really? You have a daughter?” raising your voice in surprise for a better result.

“Yeah I do. She's 14 years old and she's already giving me a hard time, she’s so smart and responsible that she’s basically parenting me” he shrugs while a little smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. You can see in his eyes how proud he is of her.

You giggle “well, she sounds so cool, I do love a tough girl.”

“Oh, she’s definitely your girl then”

You smile and think that after all, yes, Joel probably doesn't have any horrible skeletons in his closet.

And again he falls silent and looks uncertain and embarrassed, he lowers his eyes and then asks you, “You know, I’m going to be working in the building next to where you work for a little while longer, so I was wondering if you’d like to have a coffee with me sometime?”

It’s like every word is bouncing around in your head as you think about what to say. Would you like to get to know him better? The answer in the end is, “Yes, I would like to, thank you” you feel your face heat up as you say it.

Joel shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he looks at you, he seems nervous, excited but above all happy.

“I’m glad you accepted. So…what do you think about tomorrow?”

“Okay, I have lunch break from 12 to 2, is 1 okay for you?”

You see his face light up “sure that’s fine. See you tomorrow then”

For a moment he raises his arm as if he wants to come closer and touch you, but then he immediately lets it slide down his side.

Gentleman, you note in your head.

It is not yet the time for such confidence, but secretly you hope that it will come soon.

You say goodbye to him and get back in the car and you see him waving at you in the rearview mirror.

“God, Joel Miller, I already know you’re going to be a threat for me. In the best sense of the word.”

_________________________

In the weeks that follow, you and Joel share a lot of coffees. Every day he waits for you outside the clinic at 1:00 sharp, you go to the corner café and chat for an hour before returning to work. He tells you a lot of things about himself and his life which you adore listening about.

He also confides in you that he was in therapy and had to use antidepressants for a period of time, when Sarah's mother abandoned them. You completely understand.

And the more you talk to him the more you get convinced that he’s a great person, you don’t have any doubt about that.

He never fails to compliment you, on your clothes, on your hair, on your eyes, on your nail polish.

He laughingly admits that the compliment about the nail polish was Sarah’s suggestion. “Dad, she told me, girls like it when you notice details.”

You laugh out loud and nod. “She’s right. And you’re right, too, you have a very smart daughter.”

He shrugs “I know,” and then adds. “It’s been so long since I’ve dated anyone, I don’t even remember how to do it anymore.” You lean slightly across the table and whisper. “Well, I think you’re doing great.” And it’s true. You feel spoiled like a queen.

He gives you a mischievous smile “oh yeah?”

“Yes, definitely” And you want to kiss him right there, in that crowded café.

Yet a voice inside you still can’t understand how someone like him, who could have all the women he wants, is inviting you, a curvy girl.

You shouldn’t, but you still have those latent insecurities from when you were 15 and boys in your class made fun of you. Somewhere inside you there is still that fragile and wounded teenager who thinks it’s impossible that someone could truly love you. Or even just desire you.

And you hate it, because Joel has done nothing but show you how much he enjoys spending time with you. And his compliments have always sounded sincere, his eyes are, they send you a reassuring image, full of admiration. He seems truly interested in you.

You're still in this internal monologue where you curse yourself for being like this when he asks you, "Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"

Oh. He did it. He took the next step.

With your heart pounding in your chest and your mouth unable to help but curl into a smile you answer “yes!” a little too loudly.

You put a hand over your mouth as he looks at you amused “well, I’m glad you’re so excited about the idea. Should I pick you up at 8?”

“Yes, that sounds perfect” you reply, quietly this time but with a little firecracker in your chest that keeps banging where your heart is.

You finish your coffee and go out and he asks for your address which he writes down on his phone. You try to say that there is no need for him to bother but he insists on picking you up.

“Do you like Italian food?”

“I love it”

“Good, see you tonight” and this time his hand wraps around your arm and squeezes lightly as he leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

You return to the clinic feeling like you're walking on clouds.

You come home after working as hard as you can while still feeling anxious and completely unsure of what to wear. You know you didn't do anything wrong and that's a relief because you certainly can't mess up your patients' medications.

You jump in the shower, mentally going over everything in your closet. You decide to exclude any black dress because no, simply no. It's a special day and you want to wear a color. Maybe the green dress? No, green doesn't suit you, you don't even know why you bought it. Maybe the red one? But that one is very low-cut and you've rarely felt good enough to wear it. Maybe the blue one? The blue one is low-cut, but not too low-cut, it hugs you in the right way, it doesn't highlight what you don't want. Yes, maybe it's the right choice.

You hum in the shower as you wash your hair, satisfied with your decision.

You come out feeling invincible. Joel Miller has asked you to dinner. It’s been years since anyone has asked you out. You didn’t like the ones who did, and God only knows how much you miss good sex. Someone who touches you just right. Someone who makes you sigh and whimper and feel alive in his arms.

Someone who kisses you and leaves you breathless and doesn't hesitate to make you feel simply amazing as he goes down between your thighs.

Joel seems to have all the makings and miraculously seems eager to give you exactly that.

You slip into the dress and look at yourself in the mirror. You like the image it reflects. To hell with those stupid kids who always gave you shit and made you feel horrible.

You're going out to dinner with Joel Miller tonight.

Joel fucking Miller who in the high school categorization is the equivalent of the football quarterback.

The High School Prom King.

God, that makes you feel so good.

He rings the doorbell at 8:00 sharp, just as you’ve finished putting on your favorite lipstick. You take a deep breath as you go to open the door, placing your hand on the handle, and mentally preparing yourself for what you’ll find on the other side.

Finally you open it and he’s perfect. He looks like a painting framed by your door.

You stifle a scream with all your strength and say “hello” to him in a high pitched voice.

Goddamn you.

He doesn't even seem to notice. “So, miss, are you ready?”

“Sure, thank you.”

You grab your bag from the hall table and walk out with him. He takes your hand as he walks you to his pick up truck, opens the door and helps you get in.

Once in the driver's seat he turns to you and says "you look incredible tonight"

And you're about to say that after all you could skip dinner, who cares, instead you could go to your room and fuck. But you decide to behave as well as him, this man has a daughter to take care of and it seems like he's not looking for a one night stand judging by how many coffees he's offered you and how much he's put in to get to know you, so much so that by the second time he could order for you with his eyes closed, so you just say “you too” with the biggest smile widening on your face.

And oh, it's so true. He left aside the flannel shirts and the worn jeans and with them he was already the most attractive man who had ever caught your eye.

He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a beige shirt that hugs his strong biceps. You can glimpse his soft tummy as he drives, the last button before his belt tightening in a delicious way, his meaty thighs wrapped in those jeans are mouth watering.

The work he does makes him muscular in all the right places.

The car stops in front of the restaurant and he opens the door for you again. He lets you enter the restaurant first, he addresses the waitress politely and they place you at the best table in the restaurant. You are impressed, he did all this for you.

The evening passes pleasantly, you talk a lot and chat about everything, by now there is a familiarity between you that you have built over the weeks, you feel safe and comfortable with him. Finally. After so many failed and wrong relationships you feel like you have found someone right. Joel is not ashamed of you, he doesn't try to change you, he doesn't comment on your weight, he is truly a breath of fresh air.

And you see the way he looks at you, enraptured. His eyes sparkle as he talks to you and listens to you. He listens to what you have to say and never makes inappropriate comments.

You both have a sense of humor and you like that, you manage not to take yourself too seriously and laugh together. Which is hot. Extremely hot. Every time you see that dimple on his cheek pop up, your knees buckle and your heart melts. He’s so adorable.

You also like the fact that he talks to you about Sarah, it makes you feel involved in his life, it seems like he doesn't try to keep you separate from it.

“Sarah is at a sleepover at one of her friends. So…would you like to stay over tonight?” he says it looking you straight in the eye and you already know what it means.

It’s the night.

The big night.

After all, you felt it and put on your favorite lingerie.

“Sure I want to,” you reply, taking his hand across the table and squeezing it. His hands big and strong…you can’t wait to feel them all over your body.

He insists on paying the bill despite your protests, you walk out of the restaurant and toward the truck when Joel grabs your waist and presses you against the door. He’s an inch from your lips, you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What if I say no?” you tease him with a mischievous smile.

His body is completely on top of yours and the truth is that you can already feel your panties getting wet.

“I would quit, but it wouldn’t be easy so I hope you’ll reconsider”

You giggle “okay” and you feel his hands tighten on your hips.

He presses his lips against yours and it's a sloppy, needy kiss, urgent, all spit and tongue.

It leaves you breathless and you wonder what he will do in bed if this is the effect he has on you with just one kiss.

In fact you are touching each other really for the first time, in these weeks you have imagined many times his lips, their taste, their softness, their warmth. Now you know that he exceeds all your expectations.

He's calmer now, his lips fit perfectly between yours, he gently nibbles your lower lip and continues to lick inside your mouth.

He’s divine.

Utterly divine.

His hands run up and down your hips and he's about to lift your dress and grab your thigh when you stop him. “Joel…”

He looks at you with bated breath and eyes begging for mercy. “Yes, sweetie?”

“Not here…please, take me home” you whisper and he sighs “okay”

You don't even know how you managed to stop but you want your first time to be just for the two of you, you don't want to risk prying eyes or voices shouting obscene comments getting in the way.

You're already nervous enough that he'll see you naked for the first time.

He makes you get back in the pick up and gets into the driver's seat, while he fastens his seat belt you cast an eye at his crotch and you realize he’s semi-hard.

While he's driving, you put your hand on his thigh, because he has to know how much you want him.

You squeeze gently and hear him grunt “Babe…don’t do it, I won’t make it home.” and you giggle.

His low, raspy voice drives you crazy, and for a moment while you're stopped at the traffic light you consider sliding down your seat and straddling him but no, just no, wrecking his car on your first date wouldn't be the best way to end it.

You take a deep breath, leaving your hand quietly on his leg, but you want… oh you want so much to move it up and reach his bulge and stroke it over his pants.

When he pulls up in his driveway in the cab of his pickup truck there's an electricity between you that could power a small village, you feel it fluctuating in the air.

He quickly unbuckles his belt and leans over you to unbuckle yours, not without kissing you. “Let's go, pretty lady, I feel like I can’t wait a minute longer”

You get out and run to the door, he nervously searches for his keys in his pockets and opens it. You don't even have time to look around, it's the first time you enter his house but you only see it fleetingly because he takes your hand and immediately drag you to the bedroom.

There’s a chest of drawers in one corner and a wardrobe, both made of dark wood, probably made by him.

In the center of the room there is a large bed with a headboard of the same wood, the walls are a beautiful cerulean blue, there are three paintings hanging above the bed.

The bed has beige sheets and a light beige duvet with white stripes.

It’s a very manly cozy room, he makes you sit on the bed and you feel how comfortable it is, it's like him, warm and soft.

He starts undressing in front of you, he takes off his shirt and unbuttons his jeans without taking his eyes off you, he seems hypnotized by you.

You suddenly feel like there's an emptiness in the pit of your stomach, you wonder if you're ready to make yourself so vulnerable in front of him.

Oh fuck, where did this come from now? Why? You were so happy just a second ago.

It was easy in public places, you were able to use irony and your defense tactics.

Now there’s just the two of you and you wanted that, you insisted for that and yet you feel exposed now.

You know it's right, your insecurities right now aren't from Joel. Joel makes you feel safe.

It's you, it's just you.

Joel notices your hesitation, comes closer and caresses your face then he gently takes your chin and raises your gaze towards his

“Are you okay?”

“Yes” you reply in a small voice.

“If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay, darling.”

Your voice cracks a little as you reply “no, oh no, Joel I want it”

“So what’s wrong? Talk to me, you can trust me, you know?” He slips his hand into your hair and caresses you gently, looking you intensely in the eyes.

It's so stupid, all night you've felt hungry and lustful for him and now… you're afraid that seeing you naked he might think he made a mistake.

“I…” you try to say. You know that he at least deserves sincerity from you “I… I’m ashamed”

Joel's eyes widen and a completely confused expression appears on his face “about what?”

He really doesn't seem to understand and it makes you feel a little frustrated

“About my body, about the fact that I'm not thin, I have stretch marks and many other defects and you will see them” you say it all in one breath feeling silly.

“Oh babe…no. Listen to me carefully: you’re absolutely gorgeous. You don't have to be afraid to undress in front of me, I'm sure that whatever is under your clothes is wonderful and deserves to be worshipped. I really like you. I'm not saying this just because I want to have sex. You’re beautiful, honey”

You feel tears stinging your eyes and you fight them back with all your strength “you could have anyone you want”

“I want you. I want you if you let me” his voice is firm, his fingers caress your jaw until they reach your lips and brush them gently.

“Do you trust me?”

Sure, why shouldn’t I. He’s never given me a reason not to. you say to yourself.

“Yes” you whisper

“I want nothing more than to make you feel good and I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“I know”

“And you can always talk to me about anything, okay? I don’t want to make you regret this”

He is sincere. He is absolutely sincere and you can clearly see it in his big beautiful brown eyes.

“Okay” you smile

“And by the way…your curves make me absolutely feral” he gives you a mischievous smile.

“Yeah?” you say with a hint of surprise

“Sure. Would you let me prove it to you?” his hand is on your shoulder now and lingers on the strap of your dress.

“Yes, please Joel… yes”

Damn insecurities, they were about to make you lose the best man you've ever met.

And now you feel impatient again and want his hands everywhere.

Now you notice his broad chest, the freckles scattered across his skin, the happy trail of hair that ends up hidden by his jeans.

Now you can enjoy the view of his muscular shoulders and strong neck and you can't wait to taste his skin under your tongue.

His hands move slowly over you, he slides the straps of your dress and reveals your bra.

“Get up,” he says, “I want to show you something.”

You look at him in disbelief. “What?”

“Come with me” he takes your hand and makes you get out of bed.

He takes you to a full-length mirror in a corner of his room “Sarah made me buy this because she says I have to look at myself before I leave the house. She says I make terrible combinations when I get dressed. Sometimes I'm in a hurry and wear my shirt inside out or something like that." he says smiling and shaking his head.

You giggle and the confidential tone with which he speaks to you makes you feel special.

“Well I don't know if it's the mirror's merit but you did a good job tonight” you joke.

You are in front of the mirror and he is behind you “look at yourself”

You become serious again and observe yourself.

“Look how beautiful you are” he says in his deep and slightly hoarse voice“can I?” he asks placing his hands on the clasp of your bra. You nod.

He takes off your bra and drops it on the floor. You look at that woman in the mirror, you look at her skin and the roundness of her breasts and her hard nipples and then you look into his eyes and you see nothing but admiration “God, your breasts are amazing” you hear him say “can I touch them?” and you nod again “yes, please Joel”

He traces the outline with his fingers and then cups his hands and fills them with your tits.

You don't miss the moan of pleasure that he tries to stifle in his throat “they are so soft” he squeezes them delicately “mmm baby, they feel amazing in my hands”

He takes your nipples between his fingers and tugs on them slightly “and these? Look how sexy they are, I bet they would be delicious in my mouth”

You feel your skin heat up and your head spin, you squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of his hands playing with yours hard buds and his words go straight to your cunt. He’s so good at this.

“Open your eyes, honey” he whispers in your ear “don't stop looking at yourself”

His hands leave your breasts and for a moment you want to take them and put them back there but you let him. He slides your dress down your hips, until you're left in your underwear in front of the mirror.

“You’re stunning” he punctuates every syllable on your skin making you tremble “absolutely gorgeous”

His hand slides over your stomach and your belly that always makes you feel insecure “Is that what worries you?” he asks as if he can read inside you “that you don't have a flat stomach? Honey, your tummy is amazing.”

He squeezes it and it seems incredible to you how delicate his big hands can be “It's full and delicious and sweet and I can't wait to bite into it”

You squirm, leaning over his broad chest “Oh my god” you moan

He caresses your hips with both hands, supporting you “and these… they feel welcoming and warm and mmm baby, so sensual. Can you see it? They fit my hands so perfectly”

You look at yourself and you've never felt this way.

Guided by his words you finally see yourself beautiful and desirable.

He slips his fingers under the edge of your panties “Can I?”

“Yes” you say in a breath

He slowly slides them off, revealing your pussy “Jesus.” He mutter “look at her. Look how perfect she is”

He just touches your mound and you feel hypnotized, his voice, his hands, the warmth of his body, it’s all too much.

“Oh baby… I love that you left that little strip of hair”

You can't hold back anymore and you whine “touch me Joel, I want more”

His voice vibrates on your soft skin again “Tell me what you want, in detail” He bites the spot where your neck meets your shoulder “I want to hear”

“Oh god… I want… I want your fingers inside me, stretching me just right” you babble “I want to feel full”

His fingers slide between your folds “God baby you’re soaking wet. It’s all for me?”

You squirm under his touch nodding repeatedly, you feel desperately needy and hungry.

“Yes. Please Joel”

“Please what, baby?” He ask maliciously

“Make me yours, make me all yours”

“Can you see how beautiful you are now?”

“Yes” you nod “yeah. Don’t make me wait any longer. I need you, Joel”

You can swear that right now you feel really beautiful and also the luckiest woman in the world.

“Oh, you're getting impatient now… I like that” he says in a hushed tone.

He's still behind you and holding you close, he's still wearing his jeans but you can feel his hard cock pressing against your ass.

You look small in his arms, he surrounds you completely.

He brings you back to the bed and makes you lie down, you are completely naked and yet you no longer feel ashamed and inadequate.

He takes off his jeans, remaining in a pair of black boxers.

At the sight of his erection poking out against the fabric you lick your lips in anticipation.

He lies on top of you, his eyes on yours, looking at you intently “You’re perfect, honey” and then his mouth crash into your neck, kissing and licking everything he can, he takes your skin between his lips sucking and biting like he was starving for you.

“Your skin is like velvet and you smell so good, fuck”

And you whimper and cry and clasp your hands on his shoulder digging your nails in them and you feel like you don’t need anything else in this life.

He lowers himself on your body, grazing at your skin with his lips, lingering for a while on your nipples and mumbling at how good they are.

“I love touching you with my mouth, tasting your curves against my lips” until he reaches your tummy giving sloppy kisses at it and then he bites it. His teeth are attentive and gentle but at the same time eager, like he wants to taste your whole being.

And then he come to your mound and traces your thin strip of hair with his tongue and you buck your hips and move one of your hands through his curls and you plead “more, Joel, please”

He grunts at you when you tug his hair and you look at him with the most miserable begging eyes you can pull out “You want it so bad, babe? Want me to eat you out?”

You mewl a yes and he smirk “want to come on my tongue?”

You nod again “yes”

He places himself between your thighs “God, she seems made for this. So sweet scented and pretty. I bet she tastes so good”

And in an instant he dives into your pussy and his nose bumps your clit as his tongue begins to lick you up and down, delving your folds and making your hips jerk.

Your legs are wrapped around his back and his hand is on your tummy holding you in place “god, you look so beautiful like that, my precious angel, all spread and ravenous for me” every word vibrates on your clit and make you moan loudly. It’s like a demon took possession of your body, an insatiable and aching demon that wants nothing but pleasure.

He nudges at your entrance with his tongue and you cry again for more “your fingers, Joel, please, give them to me”

He pushes two fingers inside your soaking wet hole, they enter just easily and he curls them up inside you reaching for your sweetest spot.

“fuck, yes” you howl “god they feel so good, they feel so fucking good, Joel”

“I know baby, I know, you’re taking them so perfectly”

He continues to swirl his tongue over your clit as he pump his fingers in and out of you, increasing the pace when you can’t hold your moans anymore and you’re so loud you almost fear his neighbors can hear you “God, Joel, I’m coming - I’m - coming ah- god you’re incr- ah” you’re totally babbling trying to get a complete sentence out of your mouth and you can’t, you just can’t because he’s too much and you never felt that good before.

“Soak my fingers, babe, soak my face, give it all to me”

Your pussy clench around his fingers and you feel breathless as your orgasm washes all over you, his dirty talk made you over the edge.

You whine his name as you come, again and again and he doesn’t stop lapping at you until you’re calm.

He lies down next to you, wrapping his arms around you, you bury your head in the crook of his neck and sigh, “Oh, Joel.”

His hand sits on your ass squeezing gently “Such a good girl for me. I can’t believe you almost called yourself out from this”

You playfully pinch one his nipples “don’t make a fool of me”

“I would never” he says, kissing your hair “I’m just saying that you’re too good to not be taken care of. Your body deserves to feel passion and lust and all of that”

“On that note… there’s something else I’d like to do” you look at him maliciously

“What, baby?”

“I would love to… uhm… fuck, I would love to give you head”

He tilt his head “excuse me miss? Watch your mouth!” You giggle hiding your face in his chest and he laugh, and then he goes serious and ask “You sure? You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to”

“Yeah, I know” and you raise your face to kiss the lovely bald patch in his beard and you move to his ear and you whisper “I really want that though”

“As you please, sunshine”

You cup his bulge in his boxer and stroke it gently over the fabric “someone else here needs to be taken care of too”

He grunts “yeah, baby, keep going like that”

“Actually… I can make it even better” and you move from his side getting on your knees on the bed and then sitting on your heels as you keep stroking him.

You lower his boxer and his cock spring free, he’s already hard as rock. You lick your lips “delicious” and he looks at you mischievously “I guess you can be naughtier than I thought, baby”

You smirk back at him, lowering yourself on his groin and kissing the tip of his cock, just the tip, gently as a feather.

You giggle and pull back as he bucks up his hips to your mouth “so impatient, aren’t you?”

“It’s just… I didn’t have anyone giving me head in a very long time”

You open your eyes wide “I don't believe it”

“I swear” he says in a lower hoarse tone “I didn’t… I had some one night stand here and there but nothing serious, you know, I needed to be focused on Sarah and my work. so everything was quick and meaningless”

You can’t imagine Joel having meaningless sex with anybody, he’s so respectful and attentive with you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Joel Miller, do you mean to make me believe that all the women in the neighborhood aren’t in love with you?”

“Oh Rose loves me for sure” and you laugh “but about the others… I don’t know, some of them tried a couple of times but I always rejected them. I told you, I didn’t have time for complications”

“Then why you’ve changed your mind now?”

“Sarah threatened to sign me up for Tinder if I didn't find someone. And then I met you”

You giggle “so you went out with me to be safe from Tinder”

“At first, maybe. But now you know that it's not just that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

What he just did speaks volumes about how much he likes you.

And you’re even more convinced now.

You lower your head and lick the tip again swirling your tongue around it and he moans.

You slide your tongue flat along his length and wrap your hand around the base. It's big, bigger than you expected but you don't feel intimidated.

“Oh baby, you’re so good to me, what have I done to deserve such a perfect girl?”

He gasps when you took all you can of his cock in your mouth, feeling his length sliding over your tongue and his musky taste invading your palate, you whine beginning to suck like you’re desperate, stroking the rest of it with your fingers.

It doesn’t take too much before you start feeling him throbbing between your lips, he’s right on the edge as you suck and lick and kiss him like the most delicious lollipop you’ve ever had.

He pants loudly bucking his hips “Baby I’m almost - AH- almost there”

You make his cock pop out of your mouth “finish inside me, then”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m on the pill” you nod straddling his crotch and positioning his cock at your entrance.

You slowly lower yourself feeling the tip force its way into your hole and you moan with every inch that pushes its way inside you.

You stay still for a moment feeling his cock fill you up completely.

He says nothing but he looks you in the eyes and the brown of his pupils has become incredibly dark.

Eventually you start moving on top of him, placing your hands on his chest, your pussy making lewd sounds and your tits bouncing, he takes them in his hands squeezing them as he sinks into you, deeper and deeper and harder and harder.

You’re basically riding him and you've never felt so wild and free, your insecurities just disappeared clouded by your pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so gorgeous like this, look at the way your hips move, it’s so fucking amazing”

You throw yourself onto his chest as you feel his seed paint your walls, you take his mouth with yours stifling his moans that echo inside you.

He slides a hand between you, searching for your clit, and his calloused fingers begin to move over it. You end the kiss to look into his eyes, “don’t stop” he whispers “come for me baby.”

Your head feels light and your vision blurs as you feel your orgasm building up from the depths of your tummy, your pussy clenching and squeezing his cock.

You gush all over him like never before, making a mess of his crotch and the sheets underneath, crying his name so hard.

You rest your head next to his, inhaling the smell of tobacco, wood and the sweat of his neck, and you laugh, you laugh joyfully, “God,” and he does the same, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your back “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, I'm sorry”

He holds you tighter “you don't have to be sorry, darling, it was wonderful”

“I made such a mess” you murmur

“So what? Nothing that laundry can’t fix. And I’m good at laundry, you know?”

He kisses your forehead and stroke your cheek “I haven't felt this good in ages”

“Yeah, me too” you kiss him wrapping one your leg around his.

You both stay quiet for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth, kissing every now and then suddenly it hits you and you say, “Do you know who we owe all this to?”

“No, I don’t honey, to whom?” he asks confused.

“Rose” you say “Think about it, if I hadn't brought her medicines that day we wouldn't be here now."

“That’s true. I think we should go visit her and bring her a nice present.”

“Yes. She will love the story of how we met.”

You kiss him again and think about what gift could match this. Probably none, because it's the best thing that's ever happened to you.

[authorhjk1]

Aloha! Since I hardly find any of her fics here, here's hoping Krystal can make the cut so here are some choices if you may:

For the first outfit was hoping it could make the cut the most since if you look at it closely it is a one piece dress but buttoned up, for the second outfit I mean, look at that body sheesh and for the third a simple one.

https://kpopping.com/documents/54/2/2000/220405-H-Naver-Post-Krystal-ELLE-D-Edition-Photoshoot-Behind-documents-13.jpeg?v=1fb1e

https://kpopping.com/documents/a0/1/2992/240507-Krystal-Jung-Baeksang-Arts-Awards-2024-documents-1(1).jpeg?v=8dcd4

https://kpopping.com/documents/58/0/4500/Krystal-Jung-for-Vogue-Korea-March-2024-Issue-Vogue-Leader-2024-Woman-Now-documents-8.jpeg?v=2799c

Midnight

(Krystal Jung X Male Reader)

You're smiling from ear to ear as you walk through the building. You can't believe this is happening.

"It seems like you really want one of these."

Krystal's teasing tone makes you turn around to her. But before you can, her hands sneak around your waist and she presses her body up against yours from behind. Her chin landing on your shoulder.

"Y-Yes. This one."

You point at the car at the far end of the dealership. You've always wanted this car. Ever since you saw it online for the first time. You can't believe you're about to own it. You're barely nineteen years old and you just got your driver's license. But now you're walking to a midnight black Lamborghini Aventador.

You never checked out the price, because you expected to never be able to have enough money to buy one of these. But now it almost feels like you won the lottery.

"Are you sure you want this one?"

Krystal isn't as much into cars as you are, so she usually goes for classy and expansive over horse power and speed. The silver Rolls Royce parked outside is proof enough of that.

"This is my dream car."

"Then get in and try it out."

Krystal gives you a kiss on the cheek, before you hear heels klick on the floor as she walks away.

You carefully reach out to touch the hood. Six months ago, you would've been too afraid to even touch this car. But you don't have to worry about breaking anything. Krystal could buy every single car in this building, if she wanted to. You don't know how much money she really does have, but the first thing you did after coming home that fateful day, was researching the name Krystal Jung. The richest person in Korea. The fifth wealthiest person in Asia and maybe even one of the richest women on this planet.

Sitting down in the driver's seat, you let your hands wander over the steering wheel. It feels comfortable. It feels perfect. It feels better than you thought it would.

You tear your eyes off the car's dashboard as you hear Krystal approaching again. Her black dress matches the car and shows off her slim waist. It hugs her body like it was only designed for her and nobody else. Which is what probably happened. You doubt anyone else owns this exact dress. Maybe a cheap copy of it.

You hold your breath as Krystal stops in front of you, a car key in her hand.

"Do you want to take your new car for a drive?"

"Oh my god. Thank you so much."

You don't even dare to reach for the key. How much did Krystal just spent on you?

"Like I already said, you don't have to thank me for the stuff I buy you. It's just money."

She puts the key into your hand, before walking around to the passenger side.

Once she is seated, her arm sneaks around your shoulders, her lips right next to your ear.

"Let's take your new car for a drive along the coast."

Her free hand glides over your thigh as she reaches for your crotch.

"You can repay me by making use of that hood."

She nods towards the front of the car.

The cold midnight air hits your face as you test out the car's limits. Krystal's hair flies after her in the wind. The roaring of the engine almost makes it impossible to talk. You glance at the dashboard. 300 kph. The road doesn't have any corners in it right now, so you can drive as fast as you want. No one else is around.

You let the Lamborghini come to a hold as you reach the top of the cliff. It's not yet time for the sunrise, but the stars make the night sky bright enough. You have to peel your shaking hands off the wheel. You've never gone that fast in your life.

"That big smile on your face says a lot."

Krystal's hair is messy, but that might make her even more attractive.

"Show me how much you really enjoyed it."

You lean over and capture her lips with yours. The two of you make out in the car as your and her hands explore each other's bodies. You feel her naked waist under your fingertips, while Krystal lets her fingers graze your abs underneath your shirt.

You don't have to work and earn money or anything. Krystal has only two basic requirements for you to make this relationship work. Stay as healthy and fit as possible and make her cum more often then she can count. You work out every single day, eat healthy and go for a lot of runs. You already did it before you met her, but the amount of time you are know putting into your body makes it impossible for Krystal to keep her hands off you.

After your make out session in the car, you now kneel in front of it, after having Krystal bend over the hood. Just like she wanted.

Her dress is still occupying the passenger seat, while her naked body is pressed against the black surface.

"That's a good boy."

Krystal moans into the hood as your tongue invades her slick pussy again and again. You knead her cheeks as you hold onto them. She loves it when you worship her body just as much as when she worships yours.

"Oh, fuck! Almost!"

After six months of almost three times a day, you have Krystal completely figured out. It doesn't take much effort anymore to make her cum.

And you can tell how close she is, if you read the signs well enough. Her thighs begin to shake. Her moans become just a little higher. More swear words leave her lips. And more of her juices would run down her thighs, if it wasn't for you, eagerly licking every inch of her skin.

Your name leaves her lips in a deep moan, right before a high pitched cry echoes through the night. Krystal orgasms on top of the car. Her naked body pressed against the hood. Most of her squirt lands inside your mouth, but some finds it's way onto the car, staining the black materials.

While she recovers, you stand up and align your cock with her pussy. You're still hard and wet from her blowjob in the car mere minutes ago. You can't even keep track anymore on how often Krystal sucked you off, sitting in the passenger seat or at the back.

"That's right. Fill me with that cock of yours."

Krystal sighs as you push into her. Slow love making is a rare sight in your relationship. Mainly because it isn't a relationship based on love. Krystal is pleasant to be around, but she sometimes feels like she is from another world. Her money, her influence, her age. None of it matches your own personality. And yet, here you are, taking Krystal's pussy from behind.

"You're such a good boy. A good little toy."

Her endless praises fuel your desire to fuck her harder and harder. As much as you like Krystal dominating you, it doesn't compare to the feeling of being in control yourself. To have this beautiful woman bend over in front of you. How she takes your cock so well. How she moans your name and praises your cock.

You eventually start to grow tired. The small sex marathon on board of her plane two hours ago still lingering inside your muscles. Krystal usually isn't the type to have a lot of sex at once, due to her busy schedule. But a four hour flight in her private jet makes you work overtime.

You finally sink down on top of her, your face buried in her naked back as your cock rests deep inside her pussy. Krystal's tits and the rest of her body are being pressed against the hood of the car due to your weight.

"Yes, baby."

She sighs, enjoying the unusually slow fucking you now give her. Her snug pussy is enough to make you cum. It doesn't matter how fast you fuck her. Even if you only move at a slow pace, it manages to make you fill her up.

"Krystal..."

You kiss and lick her sweaty neck as you close your eyes. The cold midnight air roams your naked body on top of hers as you release your cum into her pussy.

-----------

Hi, everyone!

I hope you a had a good time reading. After deciding on this concept, I cose the black dress, because I think it fits the most. If you want me to write her in the blue one, feel free to request again, I will put it on my list.