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caesium-55 · 6 months

Text

—seven days [ epilogue ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

warnings: mentions of death and suicide.

author's note: here's the epilogue and the end end of the seven days series. thank you everyone for showing love to this fic! i was honestly so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of all of you. also, i apologize for all the broken hearts i caused after posting chapters 4-7. stay safe yall! i'll rest my fingers for real now. my doctor wasn't very happy with me. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm @seasonswinter @kravitzwhore @mycure156 i hope i didn't forget anyone

masterlist.

Julio [Name] was not an ambitious person. He didn't have dreams or concrete plans in life. But in 1985, his first dream was born. He wanted to be an F1 racer after reading about the Portuguese Grand Prix in a local newspaper where he saw a Brazilian racer even younger than him participate in it and winning it. Ayrton Senna was the racer’s name, twenty-five years old. At that time, Julio [Name] was the same age.

He immediately searched for the nearest karting track. He brought his then girlfriend, Sally Kingston, a dental student in USC, to the kart zone for their date. It was safe to say that driving was not exactly his forte. He crashed his rental kart and had to pay the damages. He was afraid that he made himself a loser in front of the Sally Kingston, the richest, prettiest, and nicest girl from L.A., and that she wouldn't wanna go out with a bumpkin like him anymore, but she had only laughed at him—her eyes turning into little crescents, showing too much teeth and gums—and from then and there, he knows he’s going to marry Sally Kingston one day. He might not have become a F1 driver, but he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams.

Him and Sally welcomed a son in 1991. They named him Damiano and he turned out to be a carbon copy of his beloved wife, not that Julio was complaining. When Damiano turned five, Julio brought him in the kart zone and let him try driving the kart. Damiano adored it so Julio signed him up for racing school. Three weekends later, Damiano got sick of driving around in circles so he stopped. Sally gave birth to a daughter in the same year—1996.

Five years later, he brings [Name], his mija, into the kart zone. He expected that you’ll be like Damiano, too, getting sick of the thing after three weekends or so. You didn't. You loved karting and going fast, almost dangerously so. You lasted five weekends so Julio signed you up for the kart zone’s junior racing school and you were their first female member. You won your first race when you were six, only seven months after you officially joined.

“She was born to race,” the team head told Julio. Julio then decided that he’d do whatever it takes so you could become a F1 driver.

Like his initial dream, his dream for you couldn't be brought to reality. When you were nine, you had to stop karting for financial reasons. Damiano was in high school, Rafael had leukemia, and Dominic had just been born. When Julio told you the news, you were sad but you understood why the decision was made so you never complained. You learned how to play billiards instead and your Abuelo was the one who taught you. It's cheaper than karting so Sally and Julio gave you their full support.

Julio [Name] was pleasantly surprised when you told him that you got accepted in USC’s engineering department years later. He half expected that you’d be like Damiano, who took an interest in dentistry, and was attending dental school. He was going to be a dentist like his mother. He was a perfect copy of Sally.

“If I can't be a racer, I’ll become a mechanical engineer,” you declared, head held high. Julio couldn't be anymore proud. You were living his dream.

If you asked Julio [Name] if he had lived a happy life despite not reaching his dreams, he would say yes without hesitation. He married the love of his life, Sally Kingston, now Sally [Last Name]. His first son, Damiano, had topped dental school and followed in his mother’s footsteps. His daughter, [Name], graduated with flying colors, a mechanical engineering degree under her belt and entered the motorsports industry, the first in the family to do so. (You even got him Fernando Alonso’s autograph! That's his second favorite driver!) Not only that, she volunteered at the LAFD during her college years and competed in a billiards tournament in Vegas, Australia, and the UK. You had the potential to be an international-level pool player but you didn't pursue the sport because you wanted to be an engineer. Rafael didn't let leukemia beat him and now, he’s finishing up his last year in CalTech, pursuing mechanical engineering like his older sister. A research team in Sweden had been eyeing him for a while now. Dominic, on the other hand, is steadily building a career for himself in volleyball. He was offered a sports scholarship in Harvard so, despite the fact that he’s going even farther than his siblings with no relatives near him like in L.A., Julio pushed him to pursue what he wanted. His children are his pride and joy. He spent every single day bragging about his children to his colleagues. The others had expressed their envy to him. Did Julio save a country in his last life to have such great children?

Furthermore, he’d been promoted to be the captain of Station 131 in Austin. Julio may not have driven an F1 car but he wouldn't even trade this family over anything in this world, not even the life of luxury and thrill of a Formula One Driver.

(What Julio didn't know was that Damiano had serious depression in dental school that he carried even after graduating, that you weren't accepted as an engineer in F1 and was stuck in a managerial position for the last five years, that Sweden found a better researcher than Rafael so he’s stuck suffering physically and mentally in a degree with his future unclear and cloudy, and Dominic was slowly losing passion in volleyball but it's the only thing putting him through college right now so he grits his teeth and put himself on court. No one told Julio. Julio got enough of his dreams broken already.)

Truthfully, despite working for Red Bull for half a decade, you never liked its taste. You were always the Monster Energy type of girl. It's the one drink that kept you functioning through all the all-nighters you pulled in engineering school. However, you kind of lost the palate for Monster Energy so now, here you are, standing outside a gas station mini mart in the middle of the dusty highway that leads to El Paso. You hold the chilled can of Red Bull against the side of your neck, satisfied with the feeling of something cool pressing against your skin. The temperature in Texas is going absolutely crazy this time of the year. In your other hand, two cigarette sticks balance in between your fingers. You crave the deadly nicotine. Desperately. But you're not stupid enough to smoke at a gas station because of your cravings.

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your pocket to see who messaged you. You snicker when you view the barrage of pictures from the Austin Grand Prix that Leo sent. A stolen shot of Logan, meme faces of Alex, the air show, a selfie with THE Fernando Alonso, and a Tiktok video with the other Williams mechanics.

You watched the race from the stands today and truthfully, you prefer watching the race in the garage than on the stands. It's unbelievably boring to be there. People pay thousands of dollars to sit under the excruciating heat of the sun and catch a glimpse of very fast cars for a nanosecond. You wouldn't even catch sight of if you blink. Nevertheless, you're happy that Leo is having the time of his life. You wish you share the same shoes.

leo: so so sad that u have to go

you: id be flattered if u actually mean it

leo: *rolling eyes emoji*

leo: i hope you choke on your beer

you: i hope you choke on the celebratory champagne

you: and i dont drink and drive

leo: good to know ur not stupid

leo: on a serious note make sure to drive to el paso safely

you: aight aight

leo: u know i have something to confess

you: if it's something stupid, don't bother

leo: ur stupid

you: fuck u

leo: shut up

leo: just wanna say i didn't break up with u bc u gave max too much attention

leo: i know that's what i said but i only said that bc i knew that u needed max to achieve ur dreams

leo: and idk i just thought max wouldn't give it to u not when im still dating u

you: that's stupid

you: max isn't like that

leo: hes in love with u

Your heart stutters. You ignore it.

you: liar

leo: i could tell u lil shit

leo: idk he looked like someone who’d hold a grudge

you: he does hold grudges

leo: and i cant allow myself to stand in between you and the one person who can give you your dream you know?

leo: i loved you enough to let you go to him

You choke on your saliva. You don't love Leo romantically anymore and you are sure that the feelings are mutual but his abrupt confession is enough to bring back the pain of loving him and letting him go all over again.

leo: u sure u won’t stay to see him?

leo: he’s the one who wants to see you the most

you: his ig messages makes me think otherwise

You're a fucking coward. A pussy.

leo: you didn't see the man [name]

leo: you don't know how empty he looks now

A shadow of guilt darkens your eyes. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your jacket. You open the Red Bull and take a large swig, almost draining the entire can. You exhale loudly after drinking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You stare at the vast expanse of the dry earth before you, starting to understand the appeal of aimless road trips in the southern roads.

The world seems to be turning in slow motion now.

Ever since your father died, time feels like it was moving too fast. You arrived at the hospital half an hour after Julio was officially pronounced dead. At that time, you felt like the world was ending. Your knees gave out in the middle of the hospital hallway. Your mother’s wail echoed in your ears. Damiano and Dominic were trying to console her, both of whom were crying terribly. You stare at them, face empty despite the hurricane brewing within you. Rafael wrapped his arms around you and you held onto him as he cried uncontrollably.

Your mother possessed a weak heart. She’d grown weaker and weaker day by day after your father passed. Your father’s station held a ceremony for him to pay tribute to their fallen captain. You were the one who carried his helmet all throughout the ceremony because the entire station knew you were his most prized child. When you flipped the helmet, there was a photo taped on it. A photo of the entire family at your graduation ceremony in USC. You maintained that tired and empty stare during the entire procession. In the middle of the ceremony, your mother collapsed.

Your father’s death was the first domino to be tipped. Your mother’s collapse during the funeral was the second. From then on, everything turned to shit. Your mother had always been frail and prone to sickness so it didn’t surprise you when she had grown so weak in a matter of days. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to eat. She lost her will to do anything else. You took her to the hospital after a week because you were afraid she was beginning to become malnourished. Damiano suggested moving your mother to El Paso, to your Abuelo and Abuela’s farm, so your mother could recuperate there, and you agreed. The entire family moved to El Paso quickly, leaving the house in Vista Del Pueblo empty and celebrated the New Year there.

You opened your phone for the first time since you landed in ATX on the 30th and a barrage of messages had been sent to you. From Daniel, Logan, Leo, Kendall, Julia. You freeze when you see Max’s name. Your finger hovers above it, hesitating. Your mind trailed back to the five years you spent in Red Bull, to all the memories with Max in it, to what happened inside his penthouse in Monaco, the jet, the night you spent in his sheets, the shoes and—

Fuck.

“Kelly,” you mumbled to yourself, typing her username in the search box. You began typing up a message. You're not mentally equipped to write a long message of apology. Your mental dictionary was not ready to use so you decided to half ass the entire message and hope for the best.

you: sorry about the breakup

you: i didn't know about the shoes

you: i didn't take it

you: im so sorry

you: i hope you're not too hurt

In truth, you loved Kelly for Max. You never had problems with her. At first, you were concerned about the great age gap between her and Max as she was even older than Danny but then you figured that you did not have a say because Leo was also younger than you, born in the same year as Max. Then, you saw how she was so caring to Max, so patient in dealing with his misplaced anger, so supportive. You saw how Max transformed into a better version of himself, something you are not even capable of doing, because of Penelope and Kelly. How he became the world's most massive girl dad without trying. You ignored every bitter feeling that sprouted on your chest because you saw Max was happy and his happiness always came first. And now, you’re here, apologizing to Kelly for taking Max away from her.

kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you

kelly: take care of him for me

you: thank you for loving him

You can't imagine how hurt Kelly was. Imagine dating and preparing a man so he could be perfect for another girl.

you: but i can’t do what you're asking

you: not anymore

“Not anymore,” you whisper to yourself, as if uttering it to the wind would cement it as the truth.

Not anymore, Max. I’m sorry.

Rafael and Dominic told you that they want to drop out of college to help you out with Mama a few days after New Year’s. You quickly told them no, to finish college and that you could handle taking care of two senior citizens and your sickly mother and help out on the farm since you’re essentially jobless at the moment.

The third domino is Damiano. You were always aware he’d been clinically depressed, taking medications to help him get better. Whatever he went through in dental school, he carried it with him until he was working. You believed he was getting better. He was seeing a therapist for years now and you were checking up on him every day. Then, like Mama, he just…. became worse. Rafael found him submerged in the bathtub in his apartment, red painting his wrists. Had Rafael not been there at the right time, Damiano would have followed Papa Julio.

The fourth domino is Dominic. He ruined his hand in March. The doctor told him it was dangerous for him to continue playing volleyball competitively. It was either he learned how to set with only his non-dominant hand because his dominant hand is partially crippled or he stopped playing all together. He’d choose the second option with no hesitation as he had lost his passion for the sport but if he’s not playing for Harvard anymore, no one would be able to pay his fees until graduation. Not when Julio died, not when Sally was too sick to continue working, not when Damiano was currently unstable, not when you’re the only one who had been supporting the entire family through your entire savings account. Red Bull must have paid you a lot of money because you’ve been keeping the entire family afloat for months now.

The fifth domino is Rafael, who got his entire thesis overhauled so now, his graduation was out of the picture. It sucked. He’d always been expected to follow his older siblings’ footsteps, both of whom are academically excelling individuals and Rafael had been studying and studying and studying. So why was this happening to him? Why was this happening to his family?

The sixth domino was yet to be tipped over.

You refuse to fall.

You blink, suddenly back in reality when you hear a loud caw of a bird flying above your head. You shake your head, tossing the Red Bull in a nearby trash can and returning inside the mini mart. The amount of caffeine in a Red Bull isn’t enough. You need more. You need fucking coffee.

Gas station coffee sucks but you’re never the type who complains. El Paso is still eight hours away and you’re sure you're going to be driving your motorcycle the entire night just to reach the farm the next morning.

You walked towards the Yamaha XSR 155 parked in front of the mini-mart, a styro cup of coffee that’s as black as your soul and as bitter as your life in your hand. Hypnotizing swirls of steam rise from the cup. In each step you take, the key that is attached to your hip jingles.

It's a little past four in the afternoon but the darkness of the sky makes you think it's around six PM. You pocket your cigarettes and stand beside your motorcycle, hand on your hip while the other brings the cup of coffee to your mouth. A car suddenly arrives, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. You flinch in surprise, almost spilling your coffee in your hands. You hiss loudly, brows furrowing, a curse sitting on the tip of your tongue. You hear the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut and when you look up—

“Max.”

He’s still in his Red Bull overalls, drenched in sweat as if he ran to the gas station instead of driving. His hair is windswept, sticking out in multiple directions almost attractively so. He looks simultaneously distraught and relieved when your eyes met. The longing in his eyes. God. You unconsciously take a step back and turn around—a flight response—when he charges in your direction.

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, stopping you from your tracks and causing your coffee to spill and fall down pathetically on the floor. You avoided the puddle, hands reaching behind you to guide Max away from the steaming liquid. But it’s too late. You saw the hot coffee touch his skin.

“Max!” you exclaim, eyes going wide. Your hand wraps around his forearm, pulling it but his grip on you tightens so you resort to tapping his arm in hopes that he’ll let go and you can inspect his injured hand and make a quick run for the mini mart for first-aid supplies.

“Max, let go,” you say, panicking. “Your hand—”

“Don’t leave,” his voice cracks.

“I won't go, okay? Let go and I’ll—”

“No,” the hug tightens and you suck in a breath. “You’ll leave again. I know you’ll leave again.”

“I’ll fix your hand. You can’t burn your hand—”

“I can endure it. Let me have this please,” he pleads. You pull his hand but Max remains stubborn. Resigned, you sigh. It turns out that you’re still the same, giving whatever Max wanted.

“I’m sorry for getting angry,” he begins. “I’m sorry for stopping you from going to Renault. I’m sorry for promising that I’d talk to Christian. I’m sorry that I didn't. I’m sorry that you had to break up with Leo because of me. I’m sorry that I realized that I fell in love with you while dating Kelly. I’m sorry for the shoes. I’m sorry for getting drunk. I’m sorry for being so selfish. I’m sorry for not considering you. I’m sorry for loving you. I’m so, so sorry, [Name]. For everything.”

His words come rapidly and frankly, you don't want to hear Max like this. Max rarely apologizes. You're not used to hearing him apologize.

“Max—”

“I called, [Name].”

You freeze.

“I called so many times. Not once have you answered. Not once—” a loud sob erupts from his mouth, interrupting him. “You always come when I call.”

You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

“I sent you a message,” he continues. “To wait for me. I know I’m selfish but can I have five minutes please? Just….five?”

A pause.

“Okay,” you whisper. Max’s body trembles against yours and you stand still for a few minutes,

“Hey,” you say gently, suddenly reminded that you're standing in an open space and Max is still in his Red Bull overalls and he doesn't even have his usual cap on and this compromising situation you're both in was going to be bad for Max’s online reputation once the wrong pair of eyes manage to catch sight of you. You can already imagine what the headlines would be.

MAX VERSTAPPEN AND HIS FORMER MANAGER CAUGHT HUGGING IN A GASOLINE STATION AFTER AUSTIN GP.

MAX VERSTAPPEN AND FORMER RED BULL MANAGER IN A RELATIONSHIP?

FORMER RED BULL MANAGER POTENTIAL REASON FOR BREAKUP BETWEEN KELLY PIQUET AND MAX VERSTAPPEN?

MAX VERSTAPPEN CHEATED ON KELLY PIQUET WITH FORMER MANAGER?

MAX VERSTAPPEN, FULL-TIME WORLD TIME CHAMPION, PART-TIME CHEATING ASSHOLE.

God. You can already imagine the headache splitting the entire PR team’s skulls. The world already hates Max because of how good he was at his sport. You can’t allow people to shit on him more because of you.

“Max,” you try again, tapping his forearm so he can loosen his hold on you and you can turn around. “Max, baby, cooperate with me for a bit, yeah?”

You tug on his wrist and you can't help but sigh in relief when his arms loosen a little. He’s beginning to choke you a little bit. With his arms still around you, you pivot on your heels so you’re face-to-face with his broad chest.

When you look up to Max’s face, your heart shatters into a million pieces. His tears continue to flow and violent sobs wrack his entire body, robbing him of the ability to speak and barely allowing a breath to be drawn. He’s going to hyperventilate. Fucking dammit.

“Max,” how many times have you said his name in the last few minutes? “Hey, breathe with me.”

Your hand cradles his jaw and your eyes focused on his blue ones and fuck, they’re as insanely beautiful as you remembered.

“Breathe.”

You perform exaggerated inhales and exhales so Max can match your breaths, his hands settling on your shoulders. His palms feel heavy against your shoulders and his fingers dig deep into your skin.

“I’m here, Champ. I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m here now.”

You wait until he calms down a little and when he does, your right hand searches for his, intertwining your fingers together to assure him that you’re not going anywhere just yet. Your other hand comes up to hold the area below his neck and you slowly guide him back to his car. It’s a little difficult, Max obviously has no intention to let you go, but you know how to make things work.

Max sits on the driver's seat with you standing outside of the car. He's still clinging onto your hand and you use the other hand to hold the roof of the car for support. Max stopped crying now, staring blankly at you with a sad pout on his face. His tears are now dry, staining his cheeks.

“You okay now, Champ?” you ask, never failing to sound gentle. That's what Max needs now. Gentleness. God forbid you pull a Jos Verstappen.

Max shakes his hand, making you sigh deeply. Your eyes trail to the hands, the pale skin now an angry red.

“Max,” you call his attention. He looks up at you and you have to avoid his gaze because if you look at his face, your heart hurts. “I’ll get something from the mini-mart for your burn, aight?”

He shakes his head and his grip on your hand impossibly tightens. If he keeps this up, he’s going to break your bones.

“No.”

If you were the same person that you were in 2023, you would have let Max do what he wanted. What Max wanted, what Max shall get—that’s the philosophy you lived by. But things are different now. Leo told you that you’re allowing Max to take too much from you and Max needs to learn to actually listen to you.

You’ve been taught to treat even the most minor of burns as if it’s a major burn. That's what you are planning to do right now.

“Max,” you say, a little firmer now. “Gonna grab somethin’ in the mart real quick, you stay here, aight?”

“No—”

“Not askin’, Champ,” you interrupt him. “I'm not leavin’ yet, not goin’ anywhere until I make sure you’re okay. So stay here and wait.”

You swiftly remove the key attached to your belt and force it into his palm, “Here are my keys. I’m not goin’ to drive off and leave you here, aight? Do you trust me?”

You have a feeling that this anxiety of his might have stemmed from that one incident in his childhood where Jos left him at a gas station. Fucking son of a bitch that man was.

Hesitantly, Max says, “I do.”

“Good,” you ruffle his hair, dampening your palm.

You can see he does not like what you're doing now but he does not have any choice so he sits in the car, looking as pitiful as ever. You jog up to the mini-mart, immediately going to the beverage section to grab a bottle of water and passing by the hygiene shelf to snatch a handkerchief. You go to the counter and the middle aged guy manning the register obviously does not look impressed that you’re in his shop for the third time in the same hour, which is stupid because he should be glad that he has a customer. You put everything on the counter, pulling out some bills from your back pocket.

“You happen to have neosporin?” you ask.

“Do we look like a drug store?” he retorts. You roll your eyes, toss the bills to the cashier, and grab your items without even waiting for the guy to wrap them all up in a paper bag. You jog back to Max’s car.

“Excuse me,” you lean inside the car, opening the compartment to search for a burn cream you left inside there last year. Your eyes land on his keys, stiffening when you notice that Max kept every single gift you gave him. The bead keychain from 2020, the bottle opener keychain from 2021, the clay figure keychain from 2022, and the bracelet from 2023 sway slightly, staring back at you. You shake your head and resume doing your original mission. You find the burn cream and you immediately search for the expiration date. January 2025; it’s still good to use.

You straighten, take hold of Max’s wrist gently, and roll up his long sleeves up to his elbows. You open the water bottle and tug Max’s hand towards you so he won't get water on his car as you pour water on his burn. Once the bottle is nearly empty, you apply the cream on the reddened area of his skin. Then, you use the handkerchief, which you dampen using the leftover water, to dress it.

Max is silent the entire ordeal, watching you work your way meticulously and carefully around his hand. The same meticulousness one can expect from a former firefighter paramedic volunteer.

You step back to inspect your work, but Max’s hand stretches out towards you, grabbing the hem of your jacket.

“Sorry,” he says and yet you see his knuckles slowly turning white, which makes you unsure if he truly is apologetic or not. “Just…yeah, sorry. Can you stay for a while please?”

“Have to leave soon,” you say. “El Paso’s still hours away. I have to be there by morning.”

He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “Okay.”

“Thirty minutes, Max,” you decide. “Thirty minutes.”

You pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time and see the multiple notification bars. You type the password and direct to the message app to see the flurry of messages Max sent earlier. You have not noticed them.

max: i heard you came

max: where are you

max: please

max: can you give me ten minutes

max: just

max: please

max: wait for me

max: i’m not angry anymore

max: im begging you

max: or five minutes [name] im okay with just five

max: or even less

max: i just need to see you

“Who told you I was here?” you question, brows knitting together. There are currently two names in your head. They both start with the letter L and they both work at Williams.

“Leo called me and told me you were here.”

“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes. Logan will never dare betray you like this. You made Leo promise not to tell Max where you were in El Paso and the bitch told him where you were the moment you stepped out of El Paso. He didn't break his promise technically, but it's still a very bitch move for him to pull. You're going to have a lengthy conversation with him later.

“So you’ve been in El Paso?” he asks.

You nod.

“My grandparents’ place.”

He nods.

“Sorry about Julio, by the way.”

You sigh. God, you want to cry.

It's truly unfair how God decided to take away Julio [Last Name]. Death should happen to assholes and shitty people. To people who abuse their children every day. To people who waste years of their lifespan on nicotine and alcohol. To people who kill people. Death shouldn't happen to heroes, who risk every single day of their lives to save other people. Death shouldn't happen to Julio [Last Name], a firefighter who died saving a kid in a burning building. At least, not this early. Not until you fulfilled his dream for him.

(His last words: I don't regret doing what I did. I have kids, too. I want someone to save them the same way I did that kid if they ever get stuck in a situation like this.)

“Did Leo tell you that, too?” you hope that he didn't notice that your voice slightly wobbled.

“No,” Max shakes his head. “We—Logan and I came to Vista Del Pueblo in December. Your neighbor told us that…”

He doesn't need to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s trying to say.

You nod, “So that's why there was an article that day…”

You remember Damiano showing you the news article in his phone—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN. You shrugged it off at that time.

“How are you?”

You turn to Max, raising a brow at his question.

“How am I?” you echo, sounding a little bewildered.

You see, Max has never asked this question. You're used to “Are you okay?” but not this. Not this question. You can easily lie to an are-you-okay. You can say yes even if you’re not, and you won't give yourself away because you only uttered one word. But with how-are-you, it’s different. It's not a question that is not answerable by yes or no. You actually have to explain how you feel. That's why Papa Julio only asked, “How are you, mija?” rather than “Are you okay, mija?” Papa Julio wants to know how your day went even if you're okay or not.

Yeah. You're definitely going to cry at this rate.

“How have you been after Julio?”

“You really wanna know?”

“I wanted to be there for you at that time,” Max confesses. “When I learned that Julio was gone, I wanted to go to you. But Leo stopped me. He said I was not what you needed at that time and I agree. I was too angry at you for leaving me. I’m glad he didn't tell me where you are, despite how painful it was. I was selfish and immature that I cared about my grief and forgot to consider yours. I reflected on my actions a lot. I am not sure how different I am now from that version of me but I think I changed a bit. So yes, [Name], I want to know, because I want to know how you felt and help you in any way I can.”

You stand there, stunned at what Max has said. And perhaps it was his sincerity or the way his determined blue eyes stare into your soul that caused the sixth domino to tip. You break into tears, a raw cry escaping your mouth. You are so fucking tired of carrying everything on your shoulders.

Max is quick to engulf you in a hug and you don't hesitate to pull him into you, pressing your face against his shoulders as you let everything out. You claw his back as if you're trying to mold himself into you. Your nose turns red, snot drips out of your nose. You sob too loud and too heavily that you can hardly draw a breath. You don't cry pretty and this is the first time you allowed yourself to cry with another person bearing witness to your fragility.

When you calmed down, you found yourself sitting beside Max, shoulder to shoulder, in the backseat of his car, playing with the drawstrings of your jacket.

“Sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“Sorry, I was just so tired,” you tip your head upwards. You can feel Max’s eyes on you. “Things have been hard since Papa died.”

“Do you want to talk? I’ll listen.”

You chuckle humorlessly.

Jesus, what did Leo feed this guy?

It feels like the roles are reversed now.

“Everybody's been takin’ it pretty hard so I'm trynna to be strong for them, you know? But I’m not that strong,” you begin. “I’m just as lost as everyone else and it's hard pretendin’ like I’m not. I’m not really sure what will happen with my life now so I wander around and do car repairs for a few folks in El Paso.”

“What happened to your dream? The job?”

“Well, it's gone,” you say, making Max’s eyes widen. “Not my time yet, I suppose. Or rather, I’m never supposed to have time. I guess I’m just not meant to be an engineer.”

“No,” Max turns to you, clasping your hands in desperation. “No, no, no. You always wanted to become an engineer. You can't just—I’ll think of something. I’ll ask Christian. I’ll ask the other teams. Renault isn't in Formula One right now but I can—”

“Max,” you smile sadly. “Let it go.”

“But—”

“Do you know what my Papa’s dream was?” you interrupt. “It’s to be a Formula One racer.”

You smile, remembering all the times you’ve seen your father watch the races on the television since you were younger. He’d wake up even in the ass crack of dawn just to watch them live. He’d be so tired after a 24-hour shift at the fire station but he’d refuse to even catch a wink of sleep until the Grand Prix broadcast is done. He always received a beating from your Mama because of it.

“He saw Senna in the newspaper and decided that he wanted to be like him, too. Sadly, Papa never vibed with a steering wheel so there was no future in that industry. He's always so disappointed in himself, sayin’ he can do the most unhinge shit at work but can't even drive a car. When Damiano and I turned five, he brought us karting. I could tell he was disappointed that Damiano didn't share his love for racing and I hated seein’ him sad so I learned to love karting. He signed me up and I did my best to win. I think I was good. Good enough to make him proud of me. Papa looked so happy when I won my first trophy. He cleaned it every week.”

You smile fondly at the memory.

“Then, shit happened and I have to stop. Papa looked even more disappointed than me that I had to stop. It hurts. Disappointment from your parents, I mean, even if I know that it's somethin’ beyond my control. I figured that if I can't be a racer, I’ll work in a pit stop. That's close enough. When I told him that I got accepted into USC and how I wanted to be an engineer, it was the proudest I have ever seen him since I won my trophy. I was livin’ his dream. I applied for Red Bull and Renault because those are Papa’s favorite teams and the rest is history.”

You pause.

“He’s never got to see me become an engineer,” you choke out, wiping the stray tear that fell from your eye with the back of your hand. “It was his dream. He always had his dreams broken and I was gonna reach his dreams for him but he’s gone before I can do so. Now, I’m so lost because I realized that I was shapin’ myself to become an extension of Papa and now that he's gone, I am an extension of no one. I was reaching for dreams that I don't own. I’m so tired and I’m so lost, Max.”

Max stares at you sadly.

“I should have talked to Christian sooner. Fuck, I hate myself for not talking to Christian. Fuck, why was I so selfish?” he presses the ball of his palms against his eyes in frustration. You chuckle, shaking your head.

“That’s okay,” you say. “I’ll find my way.”

You look at the scenery outside of the window. Night has fallen. You should have left for El Paso by now.

“I need to go,” you say, heart heavy.

“So soon?”

Max is panicking again.

“Jesus, Champ, calm down,” you pat his shoulders.

“Will I see you again?” Desperation laces his question.

“Dunno really,” you shrug.

“Can you wait for me?”

Your brows furrow.

“I’ll retire by 2028. No, that's still long. 2027. Ah no—2026? Can you wait for me? I—” Max’s hand trembles. “I love you. I love you, [Name]. I—I love you even before Kelly. I can’t. I can't lose you.”

The world stops.

“I am stupid, I am selfish, and I think I’m asking too much. If you can just wait for me, I’ll—I can even retire next year if you think it's too long—”

“Hold up right there, Champ,” you stop him. “You're not retirin’ early.”

“If you want me to, I will.”

You sigh in exasperation.

“Max,” your voice is low. “That’s your career. I’m not gonna—Jesus, Max don’t retire, okay? Not even for me. Retire only when you want to.”

This man is just…

You don't know if you want to choke him or kiss him.

“I want you to have me, [Name]. I… I want to be with you, to love you, and if retiring is the only way I can do that then I will,” he says. “I love you.”

You purse your lips.

“I love you, too, Max,” you confess and now, your chest feels lighter now that you've said it out loud. “But not now, I can't love you like this. I’m too… I can't pursue a relationship with you right now. Not when…”

“It's not our time,” Max nods. “I understand.”

He really did change.

“I want to find my way through life first," you tell him.

Max smiles and he pulls you again in a hug. He has tears in his eyes again and he sniffles, chuckling at himself for crying again. He pulls away from the hug slowly and hands you your keys.

“See you around?"

“See you around.”

You exit the car and you notice that your heart feels lighter now compared to the time you left Monaco even though you are doing the same exact thing—leaving Max to go home.

At the end of 2023, you grace the paddock with your presence—your signature YSL heels is back on the tracks. You wear pants now, instead of the corporate pencil skirts, matched with a Prema Racing polo shirt. The label at the back indicates: AERODYNAMIC ENGINEER. By the end of 2024, you are promoted to the strategy team. By 2025, you become a race engineer of an up-and-coming racing superstar and you kept the job position until now.

The world didn't end just because your Dad died. It took you a while to realize that your Papa didn't own your dreams. It was always yours to begin with. He just played a part in inspiring them.

Max Verstappen became the 2024, 2025, 2026, 2027, and 2028 WDC, marking history as an eight-time consecutive champion. He retired after the 2028 season and disappeared from the face of the Earth. He had stopped going home to his penthouse in Monaco, had put his private jet on sale, and had cut ties to his father, Jos, who was very disappointed that his son had retired too early in the sport. Max retired willingly—he had achieved more awards than most of his seniors and it's time to give room to the younger ones. Rumors say that he had established a racing program somewhere in Belgium. Charles Leclerc, Max's friend, refuses to update the media regarding Max's whereabouts and only says: "He's happy. Don't worry."

Years later, a thirteen-almost-fourteen year-old girl named Emiliana Julia Verstappen, racing under the American flag, become the youngest driver in history to join the ranks of the F1 academy and later, she becomes the youngest driver to ever drive a Formula One car, racing for Scuderia Ferrari as second driver, at only seventeen and a hundred and fifty days old, overthrowing Max Emilian Verstappen, retired eight-time F1 WDC, whom the world has not seen since his retirement, from the list.

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #fanfic #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader

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actuallysaiyan · 6 months

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The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Masterlist

Nanami Kento is entering his first year of university...as a virgin. Between having to deal with curses and the loss of his best friend, he just never found the time to make a meaningful connection with someone. Now that he's met you, he thinks you could be the one. His one problem? He's a virgin and you're not.

pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

Chapter One: A Lesson In Kissing

Nanami meets you in a few of his classes. After a few weeks of hanging out, you come to find out that he's a virgin...and he's desperate to have a lot of his first experiences with you. You teach him to kiss.

Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

You and Nanami hang out during the first night of the holiday break after a few weeks since the kiss. You two decide to play Two Truths And A Lie, which ends with Nanami dropping a bomb about his past. Still, he finds himself wanting to be close to you and feels needy. Things escalate quickly...and end even quicker.

Chapter Three: Les Sucettes

You and Nanami finally have a chance to hang out since the last time, which is much needed after the exams. You can't stop thinking about how things ended last time, and though you want to fool around, an unwanted visitor makes a visit. You make the best of things...and you show him just how talented you can be with your mouth.

Chapter Four: The Honeypot

You and Nanami go on your first official date, and he shows you just how funny and sweet he truly is once he pulls down those walls. Despite him trying to prepare himself for returning the favour for the last time, he finds himself so entranced by pulling all the pleasure from you.

Chapter Five: Drink Water To Cry Better

You two are teetering on the edge of casual and relationship when the both of you get invited to a frat house party. Kento would rather stay home, but he makes an effort just for you. He wants to show you just how much you mean to him, but somehow things just seem to fall apart.

Chapter Six: Telephone Call

Thinking nothing could fix the rift between you two, Kento surprises you with words you never thought you'd hear. Instead of being able to reply, you are pulled away from him by your friends towards a sun soaked summer vacation. The summer vacation where you have your first try at phone sex.

a/n: Inspired by conversations with the lovely @benkeibear and @kenpachisbrat. I can never thank you both enough for this wonderful idea and for the inspiration and friendship. I'll be making a taglist for this fic specifically in the days to come. Please note that if you are in my taglist for JJK, you can choose to opt out of this. Just let me know.

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jillsandwhichs · 21 days

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joel miller x reader smutshot collection , chap 3 , husbandly duties

masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: It is yours and Joel's 3rd year wedding anniversary and he makes sure it is spent well

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Married

WC: 5.7k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Making out, Dirty talk, Slight foreplay, P in V, No protection, Joel cums inside of you, Missionary, Choking, Spitting kink, Joel is soft but not too soft, Clit rubbing & possibly more

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Work, work, work and more work. This damn job is draining your mental health. You love being an office worker, sure, you get a lot of free time and the work you do isn't hard, at all, but it is so time consuming and insanely boring. You'd kill someone if it meant you could have a normal schedule and go home at a decent time. You miss your old job, it was crappy, but the schedule was great and you got to go home at the same exact time, every single day you worked there.

It is 8:00 PM already and you've been working since 10:30 AM, it's been a terribly long day.

What makes it a billion times worse is the fact it is your and Joels three year anniversary. In total, you've been together for five years, but you guys got married three years ago, it was a wonderful day filled with love and gleam. You miss it and you remember it like it was yesterday. Your dress was long and beautiful, you looked gorgeous. Joel was dashing that day, he is everyday of course, but that particular day he was perfect.

The day was beautiful too. August 13th 2012, your most favorite day. But with your luck, you had to work and Joel did not. You wish you could be home with him at this very moment, having a tasty dinner with him while watching a movie, then afterwards he rearranges your guts...

You've been day dreaming of that today, honestly. You've been horny, ovulation isn't for the weak. You've been craving your husband all fucking day. You'd do anything to be with him right now, you truly would.

Aside from that, you have to focus. You're on your final document, the more you concentrate, the faster it'll get done. Joel is going to pick you up from work, so that's something to look forward too and you can't wait to see him. You can't wait to be beside him again. You want to touch him, and kiss him, hug him, everything. You just miss your husband, so very much. It is definitely a mix of your clinginess, ovulation & sadness.

Alas, you began to transfer all your brain and will power into your work, the sooner, the absolute better.

Finally! You're finished. The first thing you did was whip out your phone to text your husband, hopefully the dummy didn't fall asleep. You know his job is also tough on him, he's a contractor, it is very hands on work and it's understandable that he is exhausted more than the average person. You began to type out your message until you officially finished it, then you sent it to him.

"Handsome, I finished working. Come get me. Love you."

You were so ready to be home.

Whenever you have to wait for Joel, you just relax in your office either on your phone or your computer. Luckily, despite this being a plain Jane office job, you have your very own office. It's designed to your liking. When you got it officially, Joel helped you decorate it; He's genuinely a life saver. One time, when he came to pick you up, he came up to your office to help you carry some things down... He ended up having to carry you as well due to your legs being way too wobbly...

You turned your computer off and slightly reorganized your desk top. When you come into work tomorrow, you don't want it to look the same as it does now. This is like a ritual at this point, cleaning up your work space daily. It's a great habit to have. You set your pens and pencils back into their case and you set your mouse pad back in its original position, placing the wireless black mouse on top of it. You made sure your personal spaces looked spotless and your desk was no exception.

Your phone buzzed on the white desk top, Joel messaged you. He never texts back too late. The longest you can recall was twenty minutes and that is because he was working. He's truly a wonder, no man you've met was willing to do such a thing, answering quickly. Your ex prioritized his games over you, it was exhausting but now, you have yourself a real man - Joel.

His message read:

"Alright sweetheart, on my way. I love you too."

The message made your heart melt.

Joel is such a sweet man. He's rough on the edges and cold at times, but he's your baby at the end of the day. You see sides of him that no one else does. His brother, Tommy, when you first met him described him as an asshole but once you got to know him, your perception totally changed. You are grateful for Tommy though, he introduced you to Joel. Without him, who knows where you would have ended up or whom you'd end up with.

Once you two started dating, you had asked Joel what he thought of you when he met you and his response was touching.

"I saw you and knew one day, we'd end up like this. How we are now, I just knew it after getting to know you little by little."

He even repeated those very words in his vows to you on your guy's Wedding day.

Oh how you miss that day - The amount of love and faith passed around that day was joyous. Now, today you get to celebrate it all over again, a tradition you are more than okay with uplifting. Last year, you put on your Wedding dress, Joel his suit, and you two danced around your living room. The little moments like that are precious and sacred. You don't plan to do that this year, you'd rather go home and eat something, but it is a sweet subject.

You found yourself biting on the end of your pen as you thought about him and all the two of you have been through. You're like a school girl who gets her very first crush. You're obsessed with Joel, you'll admit it. It isn't a bad thing, not at all. You're happy to be with a guy who has you all over him. If you weren't, it wouldn't be a very passionate and fulfilling relationship, now would it?

"Gosh." You giggled to yourself, dropping the pen into its case. You stood up and double checked your office - Everything is in check. You, unfortunately, do work tomorrow so you want this office to be pristine when you come back. You may be bored and spent, but you aren't those enough to put yourself through hell tomorrow morning. But, everything seemed well enough.

You decided you'd wait outside for him to arrive. There are benches surrounding the front of the large, industrial building that you could wait on. Usually, you stay in your office and await a message from him but the sooner you're out there, the absolute better.

With your phone, drink and purse in hand(s), you made way out of the office building. The company you work for primarily focuses on having customers purchase things you sell; You work in the department for selling goods such as food, clothes and more. Other departments include things such as outside work and children's toys and wear. This section has always worked best for you and it's HQ is massive, you've always felt important walking into and out of the establishment.

Your office was set on the third floor and you couldn't complain, others were in the sixth or seventh. All you have to do is use the elevator and leave. You won't lie, sometimes you're a bit nervous doing this, in fear of the wrong person being outside when you are as well. You shoved those scary thoughts to the side, wanting to focus on the good and the possibility of greatness.

Exiting your office, you saw one of your coworkers, Leroy, leaving his office too. "Hi." "Hey stranger, you heading out?" "I am. Joel is picking me up." "Good to hear, once again, happy anniversary to the two of you." "Thanks Lee, we seriously appreciate that." Leroy was always a kind soul. He's an older man, he's wise and witty, you've always enjoyed that about him. Joel has always been a bit sketchy about the men you endorse yourself with but Leroys never bothered him. In fact, they've spoken a good few times.

"You leaving as well?" "I sure am, I also won't be here tomorrow." "Why's that?" "My sons wife is having my grandchild tomorrow, I can't wait to meet the little one." Leroy expressed great love for his children and grandchildren. He has three kids, two sons and a daughter. He also has four grandkids, three from his son and this upcoming one from his second son. From the pictures you've seen, they're so stinking cute! "That's amazing Leroy, congratulations." You are happy for both him and the parents. Such a blessing.

Kids was never a topic you and Joel much discussed. You want them someday for sure, but not yet, you want to wait maybe another year or two. Joel is great with children from what you have seen. When he met your younger siblings, he was so gentle with them, even sat down and played with them. Moments like those make you want to have babies sooner but you must wait, it isn't the time... Yet...

The elevator began to desend both you and Leroy down it and onto the first floor where the exit was.

When it opened, you stepped out of it alongside him. The two receptionists said bye to you both.

"I'll see you soon Leroy, have a good time meeting your grandbaby." You said to him with a friendly voice. "I sure will, take care!" Leroy shouted as he got into his truck and drove off into the moonlight.

You were all alone. You sat down on the wooden bench near the entrance of the establishment and waited there. The drive from your home to your work isn't all too bad, maybe ten minutes at the most but Joel tends to speed on the back roads and that gets him here much sooner than normally. You couldn't wait to arrive at home. Something different about you is the smell of places, they bring you different feelings and senses.

At work, you feel normal, just fine & content. The way the atmosphere is at work is boring, you don't have much fun there ever and you truly only like it for its isolation purposes and it's amazing pay. Home smells like Joel, who is your comfort and your joy. At home, you can let loose and be your honest self - Your best version. You have transferred your home into what was once a regular, janky house into a safe space for you and your husband to gladly share.

If you and Joel do have children someday, they'll surely be smothered in affection.

Gazing up at the countless stars in the sky, you tried to pass the time. It felt like ages before Joel actually arrived. You are also just utterly impaitent, you want to be home now. "Ugh." You groaned out, tossing your head back on the bench, a pouty look forming on your face; You texted him.

"Handsome, hurry, I miss you."

That'll get him speeding.

Joel is a smart guy, he is safe but also risky all at once. You worry for him, of course you do, but you trust him with your life. You practically trust him with anything. If he had to perform a transfusion on you, honestly, you'd let him. Joel is your lover and you love him more than he could ever imagine. Some may find it questionable, how much you have faith in him, but you don't at all, it's just how it is when you're in a relationship like your very own.

A buzz came from your phone whilst you were roaming the never ending thoughts that spiral in your head.

"Just entered town baby, now you be a patient girl and wait."

That got you wet, bingo.

Joel being strict has always had you in a chokehold.

"Fine."

And send.

That very recognizable black, lifted truck pulled into the parking lot. It's headlights were shining brighter than a diamond as they came through. Joel tinted them, the beam of them dimming as he parked and got out of the truck. He looked as good as ever, your handsome husband. He didn't park too far from the building either, it'd be only a couple seconds to walk to it but Joel is too much of a gentleman to let you amble there alone.

"Hey babygirl." Joel said in his deep, Southern voice as he spotted you. "Hi honey." You stood up, running up to him and jumping into his burly arms. Joel accepted your hug with open arms, a chuckle emitting from him as he held you. "Ya miss me baby?" He squeezed you, kissing the side of your head and getting a whiff of your fruity scented hair - He loves it. "So much." "I missed you too." Joel gruffly mumbled against your neck, pressing kisses to it.

The hug was long and loving. You missed him very much, especially his touch. Your guy's anniversary means the world to you and him, you didn't want to waste anymore time.

"Take me home." You laughed, still being held by him. "Sure thing darlin'." He replied, not putting you down but instead carrying you to the truck. You do have a personal vehicle but it is in the shop right now, so Joel has been driving you to and from work. Even when you do have your car, he'll drive you sometimes just for extra time. It's sweet, truly. Joel opened the passenger side door, the truck light turning back on when he did. The truck smelt great, he must've inputted a new air freshener. "Get in baby." He patted your ass as you got into the truck.

You scoffed playfully, sitting down and buckling in. The smell was actually amazing; The scent was earthy and woodsy - It's definitely Joel's vibe. He then got in after you, an audible grunt being heard from him as he sat down. You couldn't help but smile and admire him. He is wearing a stained blue t shirt with faded blue jeans, it appears to be casual clothes, or his work clothes. He didn't have to work today, yet you did, kind of bullshit.

He started the truck up and began to drive you two home.

"Leroy is having another grandbaby." You started up a conversation. "Is that so? Well, good for him then." Joel responded. He didn't know Leroy as well as you. "Yeah, thought it was cool, the baby being born around our anniversary." You giggled, leaning against the center console and looking at Joel. "Sure. And by the way, happy anniversary baby." Joel added on. He didn't forget, you know that, you two exchanged some kisses and cuddles this morning in honor of it. "I'm sorry you had to work today, on our special day." Joel concluded.

He's such a sweetheart.

"It isn't your fault, honey, it's not really anyones." You commented, taking his free hand in yours. Joel glanced over at you and gave you a hearty smile, knowing how much today meant to you. "I have a surprise for you at home." "You do, what is it?" "Now doll, if I told ya, that wouldn't be much of a surprise now would it?" Joel chuckled, bringing your soft, small hand up to his face and kissing it gently. "Well, you already revealed there's a surprise at home for me." "I did." "So... Wouldn't that mean it isn't much of a surprise?" "Can you just be quiet, my dear?" He teased you, his corners creasing as he bellowed.

Oh that smile and the way his eyes change as he laughs, it warms your big heart. You love seeing Joel happy and well, it makes you feel out of this world. "I love you." "I love you sweetheart." He replied, putting your hand down and instead moving his hand to your thigh. You let out a soft sigh, enjoying his touch. Although, usually whenever he grabs your thigh, it turns into something much more but you won't complain.

You rested your head against the window, looking out at the night sky. It was pretty. Your Wedding night was gorgeous too. It rained that day though, you love the rain but surely not on your Wedding day. You kind of, in a way, hoped it would rain tonight. It would be something special to you. When it was raining that night, you and Joel kissed passionately under the dazzling moonlight, embracing each other as you did. It was so memorable and you often catch yourself thinking about it.

Also, you were very curious as to what the upcoming surprise Joel has for you is. It could be anything. It's obviously for your anniversary, so it has to be wonderful, right? Anything Joel does for you isn't taken lightly, you love it all and cherish it equally. He puts in the effort and that is what matters most to you. You'd just have to wait the car ride out to see what it was.

Joel's hand still rested on your thigh and he'd squeeze it every so often, making you more and more wet. It's not shocking - Joel's touch has always been able to do that to you. You couldn't wait to get home with him, maybe he'd let you have him tonight.

Sometimes he's just too tired and that is understandable, he's a contractor after all, a busy man, you'd never ever pressure him into something he isn't in the mood for. But hopefully, he's in the mood tonight.

Pulling into the driveway of your guy's shared suburban home, Joel released a grunt as he parked his truck directly in front of the garage; To him, it was pointless to waste time driving it into it. He took his keys out of the ignition and gave you a quick look of 'C'mon' before he then opened his door, hopping out of the truck. You did the same. As you climbed out of the truck, you saw Joel waiting at the front porch for you. Such a silly man.

You shut the door and ran up to him, a contagious giggle came from you. You were excited, curious on what this socalled surprise was going to end up being. "I'm going to need you to close your eyes." Joel said softly, his hands going to your hips as he caressed them; He plans to hold you as you walk, just for safety measures. "Okay..." You hesitated but closed them shut & tightly, truly not wanting to ruin the surprise at all.

"Alright..." Joel spoke out with his deep, gruff voice. He opened the front door and began to lead you through the house and up to your guy's bedroom. You knew that's where you two were headed considering he had to literally carry you up the stairs. "I'm nervous." "Don't be sweetheart." He kissed your cheek and set you down as you reached the top.

The sound of him opening the bedroom door was heard loud and clear and afterwards, he ushered you into the room. Already, it smelt lovely, like roses. "Mmm, the smell." "Glad you like it, doll." Joel hummed, his hands now going over each eye. "Now, babygirl, you ready?" "Yes, I am." You snorted, your arms resting at your sides. "Ok." Joel laughed, removing his hands and allowing you to finally see what he had done for you and oh, it was magnificent.

All across the bed were rose petals, scattered neatly. The lights were dimmed, causing the atmosphere to seem very sensual. There was also a tiny, red box on the bed that you didn't pick up immediately, but once you did, you took a quick scan of the rest of the room. It was fully cleaned, he actually cleaned for once. The bed was even wonderfully made, for now... On your guy's dresser were lit candles, and that snapped you out of reality.

"You dumbass, did you leave candles lit when you came to get me?" "Hon, it was a sacrifice I was willin' to make." You scoffed. This man sometimes... Although, you couldn't help but titter and the laughter only increased once you opened up the red box. You were surprised, that's for damn sure, but also super happy. Inside was the morning after pill and instantly, you knew what he was implying. "Jesus Christ." You began to laugh hard, too hard, to the point you flopped onto the bed.

Seeing you lose it, also caused Joel too.

"Gosh baby, this is just-" You laughed so hard, you couldn't breath and Joel had to calm you down.

"Alright sweetheart, breathe." He snickered, cupping your face in his larger sized hands. You let out a deep breath, trying to collect yourself but it was hard. This man went out of his way to buy an expensive ass pill just to be able to cum inside of you, such a jack rabbit. "Okay, okay, I'm good." You sat up and rested our head against his lap. "Joel Miller, you're such a funny man." "And Mrs. Miller, you're such a beautiful woman and I'd like you to let me show you just how much I love you tonight." Oh his words...

You sat up, climbing into his lap as fast as you could. You were so happy he was down for this, especially on a night like this one. You encased your arms around his neck as you pulled him in for a deep, long & passionate kiss. Joel's arms went around your back, pulling you as close to him as he could. He longed for this, all damn day and so did you. Your guy's lips moved in a sloppy manner as you made out, just wanting each other ASAP and not being able to remove your hands from one another.

He gripped your ass, grinding you against his lap as he held you. Your pussy only got more wet by the second, each push & each pull made you yearn for him badly. "Joel..." "I know baby." He huffed, going back to kissing you with love. You held onto his scruffy face, your nails scratching lightly against his beard, enjoying how manly he was. His lips felt so heavenly against yours, his have always been the perfect match. Your guy's lips were like puzzle pieces that were finally able to connect.

"Mmm, here." You suddenly pulled from the kiss and began to unbutton your work shirt with the help of Joel's needy hands. He speedily removed it, tossing it to the floor and his singular hand snapping your bra off; You two were getting into it immediately. Joel brought his head down to your breast, suckling on your nipple and in his other hand, fondling the breast beside it. "Oh!" You moaned, tossing your hand back as your fingers roamed through his shaggy hair.

Joel has a huge thing for your tits, he thinks they're perfect.

"My girls." Joel rumbled out, kissing your tits numerous times whilst rubbing them. You giggled as you watched him, he was like a kid with their prized possession. He went back to suckling on them, both of his hands holding your lower back now. You held his head in your hands, practically babying him as he licked your nipples and kissed your breasts. "You're so sexy." You whispered, kissing the top of his head.

Your husband looked up at you, desperation full in his eyes. It is so clear he craves you just as you crave him. He kissed you gently as he flipped you onto the bed, a cute chuckle releasing from you as he did. He laughed as well, seeing you all giddy was always sure to do the same to him. He crawled on top of you, his hands going to the end of his blue shirt, pulling it off with a smile whilst he gazed at you. "Are we just going to fuck with all these rose petals on the bed?" "Adds to it darlin', don't ya think?" He teased, going down to your neck and biting it.

You tittered, holding onto him as he marked his territory all along your neck. "Mmm, need you inside of me." You whined with a giggle. You seriously needed your husband at this point, you needed his member. "Oh, is that so?" "Mhm." You mumbled, looking up at him with soft, doe-like eyes. "Alright babygirl." Joel laughed, leaning up so he'd be on his knees.

His hands went to your waist, his hands fidgeting with the buttons of your tight, formal jeans. You were required to dress nicely, not casual, each day to work. You usually wore a blouse and jeans, which is exactly what you wore today. "Damn fuckin' jeans." Joel grumbled, unbuttoning all three of the tabs before practically ripping them off of you. You squealed, now only in your panties. Joel smirked, the sight of you absolutely jaw dropping.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful sweetheart." Joel praised you, your wetness increased when he did. You lifted your waist up, a groan coming from you whilst you did. You pulled down your underwear and handed them to Joel, expecting that he'd toss them to the side as always but instead, he balled them up and sniffed them, his brown eyes closing as he embraced your scent. "Lord..." Joel hummed, stuffing the panties into his pocket real quick.

"Babe!" You scoffed while giggling, "You never do that." "Can't help myself, you smell good." He responded; He can be so cocky sometimes.

You stared as he removed his jeans. His erect cock flung out from his tight boxers, his pre-cum visible due to the light in the room. You sighed softly as he climbed back on top of you. You held your legs up, knowing he'd eventually place them on his shoulders for more support... And so that he can go deeper inside of you, but that's beside the point.

He adjusted himself into a position that was comfortable for the both of you. Joel was not selfish, especially during love making. He put you before himself, making sure you always feel pleased and for fucking sure making sure you cum first, always. You can't even recall a time he came before you because he's always too worried about your please - Not an issue to you though. "Can't wait to feel ya." Joel mumbled, grabbing his dick and lining it up to your soaked entrance.

You accepted him, accepted every part of him and waited patiently for him to move inside of you.

The tip of his cock teased your entrance as he so slowly pushed himself inside of you. Inch after inch, you couldn't quite make a call as to when he'd stop until a few seconds later. A whopping 7 inches wasn't something to scoff at. "Oh baby." You whimpered, your arms wrapped around his torso and on his upper back. Your hands were flat on it, the heat emitting from his back absorbed onto your hand, bringing a heated feeling to your own body. "So fuckin' tight baby, you feel great." Joel muttered as he stopped himself inside of you.

He gave you a moment to adjust and get used to him. It was not common for you two to fuck without a condom, so it felt different, it felt better. You gave him a nod, letting him know you were ready and that he could move. "Alright baby, tell me to stop if needed." He was always so respectful. Ever since the first time you two had sex, he's been this way, it never changed no matter how comfortable you two got with one another. "Mhm." You nodded, your eyebrows scrunching as he began to slide in & out of your core.

Each movement felt wonderful. He was so careful, making sure you didn't get hurt by his upcoming roughness. Joel is a softie at heart, mainly with you. No matter the circumstances, you come first. "You're squeezin' me, fuck." Joel laughed, his forehead pressed against yours as he fucked your cunt, making you drip onto him. "Oh yes." You moaned, your hands quickly moving to his forearms for better stability. Your nails dug into them, your lip also digging into your lower one. "That'a girl." Joel chuckled, his speed increasing every so slightly.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him and his body. He's so perfect, in every way, shape and form. You love this man to death. His cock stroked your walls beautifully, each push and pull earning a quiet whimper out of you. You held him close, the warmth of his body only enhancing the experience of this shared love making. "Fuck sweetheart." He grunted into your ear, his breath hot, it was sexy. "What?" You whined out, holding onto his head still. "I feel like I'm gon' cum already." You loved how he spoke to you.

He lifted himself up from the crook of your neck, his eyes on yours as he grinned at you. His pace began to quicken and the force of his hips increased in roughness, you didn't mind, you only embraced it. "Harder Joel." You panted, touching him all over. "Mmm, you're so pretty, such a pretty little sweet thing." Your husband groaned out to you.

The sounds of his manhood slamming against your womanly hood was loud and so lewd. It was very erotic and attractive in a way. The room smelt like floral and sex, two of your favorite things. You could smell the faded cologne on Joel too, your favorite scent he owns. You had on his favorite perfume, hopefully he took notice of that. "Can't wait to cum so deep inside of this pretty little pussy of yours." Joel managed to speak out, clearly so indulged inside of you. The pleasure was taking over him and you assumed this would be the first time he finished first.

As he gawked at you, you whimpered out a squeak as he began to choke you. Of course, it didn't hurt, he was like a gentle giant, making sure it was just a light grip. One hand held both of your wrists down against the bed whereas the other held your pale, little neck. "Just keep starin' at me, I wanna look into those soft eyes as I cum in you." His way of dirty talking was relentless and always brought you closer to the damn edge.

By the look on his face, you could so easily tell what he wanted to do next and he wouldn't have to ask you twice.

"Open that mouth babygirl."

The words made your stomach twist in the most pleasurable, divine way imaginable.

You opened your mouth up for him, a whine releasing from deep inside you as the hold on your neck tightened, along with his pumps becoming more sloppy and reckless. He spit in your mouth, his white salvia dripping into your pretty, pink mouth. He watched, glory in his eyes. This was something Joel was really into and when he had first brought it up to you, you were totally irked by it.

"Uhm, no baby, that's gross." "Give it a shot baby."

And you did, you never regretted it.

You swallowed his spit, your eyes watering as you did, not because you were grossed out or anything but because you were so fucking close to the edge, you could taste it. "Atta girl." He unpinned your wrists now, his free hand going down to your clit; He could tell you needed to cum now.

Gazing into his eyes, your eyes were filled with desire and lust, you longed for him all day and finally, he was giving you exactly what you wanted. His chokehold only brought you more pleasure as his fingers worked their magnificent magic on your nub. "Cum baby." He purred to you, his chokehold now moving into a caressing of your cheek. You couldn't cum yet, you wanted to hold back as long as you could but he wouldn't let up. Rubbing you faster, he said, "Hon, you gotta cum or else I'll finish first." He spoke so sternly, it was the tone you needed.

All around his dick, you came, your back arching. Joel shushed you lovingly as he held you close, still pumping himself into you. "Mmm, such a good girl, you did well." He praised you, his face buried in your hair. He embraced you so sweetly. You could feel him deep inside of you still, the sensitivity heightening, over stimulation occuring. "Please cum." You whispered, wanting him to just finish. "Kiss me then." Joel grunted, smashing his lips against yours. You cupped his face and licked his lower lip, your tongue swirling inside of his mouth now.

With a few more thrusts, Joel came deep inside of you. You could feel his warm seed shooting through you like a fish in water. You moaned loudly, loud enough for Joel's eyes to widen, then for a chuckle to come out afterwards. "Dear God." You sighed softly, coming down from your high and from the feeling of him - He recovered rather hastely.

Joel pulled out of you and grabbed a random T shirt of his, cleaning the two of you up with it.

"You best not wear that after you just wiped us off." "Imma wear it." Joel shut down your statement, you opened your mouth in disgust, but deep down it was pretty hot of him.

"Anywho, happy anniversary doll." Joel grunted, plopping down beside you and pulling you closer towards him. "Happy anniversary, Joel." You kissed his nose and soon, the tired man was out like a bulb.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller smutshot #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #tumblr fyp

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hungermakesmonsters · 5 months

Text

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter One

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5.4k

A/N : The full first chapter. For anyone that missed the first sneak peak, this is going to be a vampire fic, so it's going to have smut, dark themes, and blood mentions. I've been reading a lot of gothic novels lately so there's a bit of inspo from that in here. Anyway, hope you enjoy this one!

Chapter One

It was official; you'd lost your fucking mind.

You’d been standing outside the building for five minutes now, the paperwork tucked in your coat pocket feeling heavier by the second. Were you sure that you wanted to do this? Could you really give up a year of your life to serve a vampire?

What other choice did you have?

A lithe and pale figure watched from behind the tinted, UV proof glass while you changed your mind a dozen times over. After a few more minutes, the sun finally disappeared into the New York skyline, plunging the street into shadow.

The door opened.

The figure called your name, and you stepped forward, almost mesmerised by the lilting, lyrical tone of her voice. You shook your head a little, trying to keep your wits about you.

You took in the sight of her as she held open the door; taller than you with a willowy figure, long white hair down to her hips, and eyes of pale blue that seemed to look right through you. You’d seen enough vampires to tell one by sight.

Your small suitcase was clutched in your hand, the few possessions that meant anything to you had been hastily packed before you’d headed to New York, and now felt like all you had left in the world. She glanced at the suitcase with disdain, but said nothing.

“Do you have the paperwork?” She asked, the soft but icy sound of her voice sending a shiver up your spine. You nodded and she held out her hand expectantly, waiting while you fished the folded mess of documents from your coat. She gave the contract a cursory glance, making sure you’d signed every dotted line, before; “good. And are you sure you understand everything that this position entails and what will be required of you?”

You nodded again.

“Speak up,” she prompted. “This is your last chance to ask questions.”

Despite the impatience on her face, you took a moment. Only minutes ago you’d had at least half a dozen questions about the job and the mysterious vampire who had hired you.

“What happened to the last person who took this job?” Her eyebrow rose, obviously not expecting that question. “The contract is for a year, but I’ve seen this job advertised three times in the last ten months.”

“There are a lot of people who mistakenly believe that they can do what is required of them. Many have come to work for Mr Russo, and many have disappointed him,” she shrugged.

“What happened to them?”

“The same thing that will happen to you if you breach your contract; immediate dismissal with no severance,” she explained, slowly starting to step towards the elevator. “During your time here, everything will be provided for you and you will only be paid once your term of service is completed.”

“A million dollars,” even though that was the amount in black and white on the contract, it still didn’t seem real to you.

“Yes,” she pressed the call button, putting an obvious timer on this conversation. “Like I said, this is your last chance to ask questions. Once I take you upstairs, your contract will officially begin, and you will forfeit the agreed upon rights.”

You swallowed the lump that had risen in your throat and nodded, knowing you had no choice. You needed the money and a year wasn’t that long if you really thought about it.

The elevator doors slid open and you took one last deep breath before stepping inside.

“What floor are we going to?” You asked, not wanting to stand in silence.

“The penthouse,” she answered, allowing another moment of quiet before adding; “you’ll find that Mr Russo has been more than generous with your living quarters, far more generous than most.”

“Do a lot of vampires do this? Hire people to feed from, I mean?”

“For those that can afford it, or those with particular... tastes, it’s quite common, yes,” she replied offhandedly, not even bothering to look at you, knowing that it didn’t matter anymore; it was too late for you to change your mind.

“And which is Mr Russo?” You dared to ask, which was enough to earn a glance from her.

“Both,” she answered coldly, “as you no doubt saw in the advertisement, Mr Russo is very particular, and you’d do well to remember that. He is a man who likes everything in its place.”

Your lips parted, more comments and questions about your mysterious employer on your tongue, but they were cut off by the opening of the elevator doors. She led you out into the penthouse; a large open-plan living and kitchen area, with an open fireplace and wrap-around sofa, decorated in dark colours and dark-stained wood.

“Leave your suitcase there,” she instructed. “You won’t need it.”

You did as you were told, speechless as you took in the huge space in front of you. The windows drew your attention; tinted and obviously UV proof, but spanning from floor to ceiling, giving an amazing view of Central Park.

“This is the main area of the penthouse,” she started, as if she was a tour guide, reeling off facts that she no longer found interesting. “You may use this area as you see fit during daylight hours, but between 9pm and 6am it is off-limits. You will clean up after yourself.”

You nodded, following her as she slowly started towards the kitchen, leaving your suitcase at the elevator.

“All food will be provided, and should not be left in this kitchen area. You have your own private kitchen in your quarters. As per your contract, you will keep to the list of acceptable foods, and will receive grocery deliveries once a week on Fridays.” She stopped for a moment, letting you get a look at the main kitchen.

While there didn’t seem to be much in the way of food in the main kitchen, there was a large wine rack, filled with bottles. But it was the small glass-fronted refrigerator that caught your attention. That was where he would keep your blood. Suddenly it all started to feel very real to you.

If your guide cared, she didn’t bother to show it. She started to move again, and you followed after.

“Behind that door,” she pointed, “are Mr Russo’s rooms. You are forbidden from entering. Any breach of that rule will result in your immediate dismissal.”

You nodded, eyes lingering on the door, wondering if he was behind it right now, if he was listening in to everything being said. The thought caused your heart to beat a little faster and, that, you were certain she did notice. She led you away, towards the other end of the apartment.

“Through that door is Mr Russo’s library, you may use it as you see fit during daylight hours,” she didn’t linger or allow you to look inside, so you decided that was the first place you would explore once you were alone.

“And this,” she pushed a door open, “is your private suite.”

The door led to a small corridor with three doors. You continued to follow her.

“Your kitchen,” she pushed open the first door and let you glance inside before moving to the door on the opposite side of the hallway, “your bathroom.” Again, she only gave you a second before moving to the door at the end of the hallway. “And this is your bedroom. For your privacy, the door can be locked. Though once you’ve slept here, no vampire will be able to enter without permission.”

You were almost speechless as you stepped into the room, immediately noticing the floor to ceiling windows that wrapped around the corner of the room, giving you amazing views of Central Park and the city. The room contained a large bed, a sofa and TV, as well as a small gym area in the corner. There was a wardrobe, the doors of which had been strategically left open so you could see that it had already been filled with clothes for you. Beyond that, there was a desk and several mirrors, and everything was decorated with the same dark palette as the rest of the penthouse.

“As per your contract, you are expected to remain clean and healthy at all times,” she continued while you slowly stepped around the room, cautiously running your fingers over the desk and opening drawers. “Mr Russo requires that you shower at least once every day and that you wear only the clothes provided. If the clothes provided are not to your tastes, reasonable adjustments to the wardrobe can be made.”

You opened a drawer and felt heat rise in your cheeks when you realised that it was filled with silk and lace lingerie sets. Closing the drawer, you decided to look elsewhere, moving towards the nightstand. There was a silk sleep mask beside the lamp, with your initials sewn into the fabric.

“You will not leave the penthouse without permission. Any attempt to do so will result in your immediate dismissal,” again, on paper, it had sounded easy but now you weren’t so sure. “Part of remaining clean for Mr Russo means that you will forgo sex for the duration of your contract, and you will not allow anyone to touch you in a sexual way. However, Mr Russo understands that this can be... difficult for someone your age, so he has provided everything you need to keep yourself... satisfied.”

Your confused glance was met by a raised eyebrow and the slightest dip of her head, indicating the drawer which, stupidly, you opened without hesitation.

“Oh...” you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting but a drawer full of sex toys certainly wasn’t it. Your cheeks got hotter and your heart raced in your chest.

“I would suggest getting that under control, your embarrassment is quite distracting to vampires,” she stated before leaving the room. You quickly pushed the drawer of toys closed and followed after her.

She led you into the kitchen, a clean and sterile looking room with everything you’d ever need to cook for yourself. Waving at the only chair at the small table, she instructed you to sit, take your coat off and roll up your sleeve.

“For the first week, I will assist you in drawing blood and showing you how to store it, after that it will become your responsibility. You will do this at least once a day, and it is your job to ensure that Mr Russo never goes without,” she explained, opening a drawer and removing what she needed.

You felt queasy the moment the needle punctured the skin, and you were sure she scoffed when you looked away from the sight of blood. Clearly, she didn’t think you were going to last in your new job.

“While your contract is in effect, Mr Russo is the only vampire who may drink your blood,” she continued to list rules and stipulations.

“And he’ll only drink it like this? He won’t -” you hesitated, trying to decide if the question could be seen as offensive to a vampire.

“It is, legally speaking, entirely up to you whether or not you would allow Mr Russo to feed from you directly,” which, of course was something you knew - since vampires revealed themselves to the world, lots of safe-measures had been put in place to protect humans from being involuntarily fed upon. “However, Mr Russo prefers to feed this way, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

After almost ten minutes she pulled the needle from your arm and began to explain how to seal the blood before handing you a bottle of supplements and a glass of water.

“Take one of those every day after bleeding, they will help your body replace what you’ve given.” She watched as you took one of the supplements without questions and then led you back out into the main area of the apartment, showing you how the blood was to be stored in the fridge, with the day's date clearly marked on the jar.

“Now, you should go shower and change into the clothes provided. I can either dispose of what you’re wearing or it can be placed in storage with your other things until your contract is complete.”

“Wait - storage?” You asked, your heart skipping a beat.

“As per your contract, everything is provided -”

“I get that, but... you’re saying I can’t keep my things? What about my phone?” Sure, you’d read the contract, but you’d never realised that that was what it meant.

“Mr Russo is a very private man, your phone or other electronic devices would be a security risk,” she answered sharply. “If you wish to terminate your contract -”

“No - no, it’s fine. As long as they’re kept safe.” As much as you hated it, you knew the alternative was worse. No, you could live without your phone and laptop for a year if it meant earning a million dollars, if it meant finally being free.

Without hesitation, you removed your phone from your pocket and handed it to her. She seemed almost amused that it was already turned off, and quickly slid it into her own pocket.

She nodded and started to walk away. “Leave anything you want put into storage by the elevator.”

It was then that you realised that she was about to leave you all alone and you’d have no more chances to ask her questions.

“When will I meet Mr Russo?” You asked as she pressed the call button.

“That depends on Mr Russo,” she shrugged, “you may never meet him if he doesn’t wish it. He’ll decide when he returns to New York tomorrow. For now, I’d suggest you spend your time getting comfortable. A year is a long time for warmbloods...”

The elevator doors slid open and she carried your suitcase inside.

“I’ll be back after sunset tomorrow to draw more blood.”

It wasn’t until she was gone that you realised you’d never even gotten her name.

Alone, you remained in the kitchen for a few minutes, half expecting her to come back to explain more rules but, when she didn’t, you decided to explore.

It felt strange and you didn’t dare touch anything, practically creeping around the apartment, even though you were fairly certain that you were all alone now. You got yourself familiar with the main living area, taking a moment to enjoy the view from the windows before heading for the door that led to Mr Russo’s library.

Whatever thoughts you had about it, you weren’t expecting what you found behind that door. The book cases covered two of the walls and, in the corner of the room sat a grand piano. There was a worn looking leather sofa and, towards the back of the room, you realised that there was a set of shelves filled with vinyl records. Suddenly, being stuck in this apartment for a whole year didn’t seem like enough time.

There was a strange mix of old and new about the room, things that made you wonder about the sort of person your new employer was. How old was he? How long had he been a vampire?

You decided that you were definitely going to spend a lot of time in the library but, for tonight, you settled on taking a battered looking copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray from a shelf, hoping that no one would mind if you took it back to your room.

While it wasn’t getting late, it had been a long day and you were still feeling a little shaky, so you decided to do as instructed and have a shower before changing into one of the silken pairs of pyjamas that had been provided. Once you’d neatly folded and piled your old clothes by the elevator, you returned to your bedroom.

Paranoia had you checking around the room, beneath the bed and in the wardrobe, before you finally felt safe enough to lock yourself in. While it had been your plan to read until you fell asleep, you were too distracted by thoughts of home; had anyone noticed that you were gone yet? Were they looking for you? Had they been trying to call?

The only thing that you knew for certain was that no one would find you here. And, once you’d completed your year and had your million dollars, no one would find you ever again.

The next morning you realised why you’d been provided a sleep mask; as stunning as the floor to ceiling windows were, the moment the sun rose your room was filled with light. Grumbling, your hand reached for your phone on the night stand before you remembered exactly where you were and that you no longer had your phone.

There was a clock in the kitchen, on the wall above the small table where you sat and had breakfast, telling you that it was far too early to be awake.

After breakfast you showered and decided to spend the day getting used to your surroundings, starting with the bedroom.

The contents of the wardrobe left you speechless. Even the leggings and jeans were expensive brands, and some of the ball gowns... honestly, you didn’t even know why they were in there, but you’d spent enough time attending balls and gala’s back home to know that each was easily worth tens of thousands of dollars. Some of the garments felt a little more questionable; corsets and dresses that would probably reveal far more than you were comfortable with.

And the shoes.

You’d never seen so many pairs of shoes. Everything ranging from cute sneakers, to thigh-high boots with heels so big you’d break your neck if you fell over in them. Every kind of shoe for every sort of occasion, and they were all stunning.

Then, in the drawers, you had your more everyday items; underwear, tee-shirts, leggings. And, again, it seemed like no expense had been spared. Admittedly when you finally changed out of the pyjamas, it felt a little bit weird to put on underwear that you hadn’t bought for yourself, and weirder still to think about how soft the lace felt on your skin.

You picked out a pair of jeggings, an oversized sweater and a pair of Uggs to wear before continuing to search through your room. There was everything you could think that you might want or need, with the exception of a laptop or phone. (And you were very mindful about ignoring the drawer of sex toys, not even wanting to think about it.)

It took you almost the whole day to get through it all and find where everything was. Once you were done, you decided to cook dinner; a simple pasta in sauce with some bread. You hadn’t even stepped out of your suite and into the main apartment, you’d almost managed to forget that anything existed outside of your bubble until the sudden knock on the suite's door.

You opened the door to find her standing there, remembering she had promised to return at sunset.

“Have you found everything to your liking so far?” She asked as she stepped past you and made her way into the kitchen.

“Everything is fine,” you told her, following after. “I did have a few... questions about some things?”

She indicated that you take a seat and moved to the cupboard that contains the equipment for drawing blood. You rolled up your sleeve without being asked.

“Yes?” She prompted.

“In the wardrobe, there are ball gowns?” More statement than question and she looked at you with a raised eyebrow until you clarified; “why?”

“Mr Russo occasionally likes to host parties or attend events in the city,” she answered, piercing your skin with the needle. “If he decides he enjoys your company, he may ask you to attend with him.”

“Oh,” you decided not to ask the ridiculous follow up and instead change direction completely. “And, while I’m here I’m not allowed a phone or the internet?”

“As I told you yesterday, Mr Russo is a very private man. If you wish to contact loved ones, I can -”

“No, it’s fine,” you quickly cut her off. “What if there’s... I don’t know, an emergency? Or something I need?”

For a second she paused, the slightest look of realisation on her face, as if she’d just remembered something.

“By the elevator, there’s an intercom. You can use it to contact me or, if I’m not available, you can contact the doorman.”

Which, of course, brought you to the next awkward question.

“... you never told me your name.”

“Lissa,” she quickly responded, off-handedly, almost dismissively, like she thought you’d never need it.

Once she was finished drawing blood, you followed her out into the main area of the penthouse and over to the fridge where, to your surprise, yesterday’s blood was gone.

“Is -” you started to ask, glancing towards that foreboding door that was off-limits to you, “- is Mr Russo here?”

“He’s back in the city, yes.”

You took that to mean that he wasn’t in, so you decided not to ask any more questions - what had she told you yesterday? That he’d decide whether he wanted to meet you when he got back. Well, he was back now and, obviously, he didn’t.

Lissa asked if you needed anything desperately and you told her you didn’t; she didn’t exactly make it seem like she was interested, more that she felt obligated.

The next few days passed in much the same way; you’d spend your afternoons exploring the penthouse, trying to get some idea of what Mr Russo was like. Then Lissa would help you draw blood and, by the end of the first week, you no longer needed her assistance. Every morning you checked the fridge and found it empty. He was there, in the penthouse. But, as the days passed, you started to think you’d never cross paths and maybe that was by design.

Maybe that was for the best, maybe it would be easier to get through the year without meeting him. You could just pretend that the penthouse was yours.

But it seemed like a lonely way to live, especially once Lissa no longer had a reason to visit. You weren’t used to space or privacy, not like this. You took to muttering to yourself, moving from room to room of the penthouse just to get a little bit of variety in your life.

The first day you were completely left alone, you decided to start the morning with a run on the treadmill. It was raining outside but you tried to picture what it would be like to run through the winding paths of Central Park, all the way to the fountain. Then, after showering, you rummaged through the cupboards in the kitchen to find all the ingredients you needed to make chocolate muffins.

By the time the sun started to set, you were quietly impressed with how well you’d managed to distract yourself. But it was only one day, and you had over three-hundred and fifty more to fill. You made yourself some dinner, drew some blood and took it out to the fridge for Mr Russo, whenever he decided to get it.

Then, you ended up on the sofa.

Initially you’d only wanted to sit down for a few minutes, feeling tired and a little bit unsteady after putting today’s blood in the fridge. You had a feeling that you might have drawn a little too much, and you found your eyes drifting shut.

The alarm on your watch woke you, set to remind you every night when it was approaching 9pm so you could retire to your suite, as per the rules. You felt groggy as your eyes opened, taking a second to sharpen.

And there he was, sitting on the opposite side of the wrap-around sofa, a glass in his hand, dark eyes set on you.

You sat up quickly - so quickly that it made you feel dizzy.

Your cheeks warmed, though you weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or nausea.

If he cared about your display of discomfort, he certainly didn’t show it. In fact, for a moment you were sure you saw a flicker of a smirk cross his lips. For a second you found yourself staring, taking in the sight of him; dark suit, dark hair, and even darker eyes. He was stunning, even by vampire standards.

“I’m sorry, I -” you started, flustered. You didn’t even know what you were apologising for. It wasn’t like you’d broken any of his rules.

“So you’re the new one,” his voice didn’t sound like you thought it would. For the look of him, you’d imagined a smooth but commanding tone, instead there was something rough to it.

“Yes, sir,” you answered, quickly introducing yourself to him rather than addressing what exactly he meant by the new one.

“Drink that,” he instructed and you noticed the glass of orange juice on the table. “It’ll help with the blood loss.”

Your cheeks warmed a fraction, embarrassed that he’d figured out why you were sleeping on the sofa. (Just how long had he been sitting watching you sleep, anyway?)

You gave a muttered thank you before reaching for the glass and slowly starting to drink. You’d forgotten to take your supplement too and that probably wasn’t helping.

“So, what are you running from?”

“I'm sorry?” You asked, not understanding the question.

“You've agreed to spend a year living in the home of a man you've never met - a vampire, no less - so, what are you running from?” He looked at you as if he could look through you, as if he expect a lie and he’d be able to catch you in it

“I’m not running,” you answered, forcing yourself to sit a little straighter, despite the light-headedness. “I just didn’t want to be at home anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Does it matter?” You answered flippantly before realising that that wasn’t the best way to talk to your new employer. “I mean - I already signed all of your contracts, so does it make a difference?”

“It does if I end up with your parents at the door screaming about how I spirited away their daughter and have her under my thrall so I can drain her blood.”

“Has - has that happened before?” There was something about his face, his eyes, it made it impossible to tell if he was joking or being serious. “Things like this are legal, so it’s not like they could complain...”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

It was only then that you realised what was in his glass, the dark viscous liquid he was gently swirling. He was sitting and having this conversation with you while cradling a glass of your blood.

“I’m not avoiding it,” you decided to tell him, “I just don’t want to answer it. I appreciate how this could look to some people, but I can promise you my family won’t be an issue. They don’t even know that I’m here and they have no way of finding me.”

“So, not running, escaping,” he stated like he didn’t want a response and already knew he was going to get one. And, finally, he lifted his glass and took a slow drink..

You didn’t want to watch him drink, but you found that you couldn’t tear your eyes away, watching the gentle bob of his throat and the way he licked his lips after draining half the glass. When he caught you looking, you dropped your attention to your own glass and took a slow drink.

“I’m not your first am I?”

Sputtering, you almost choked on your drink and, for some reason, your mind immediately went to the drawer of toys in your bedroom. Your cheeks continued to warm as the corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk.

“My first what?”

“Vampire.”

“No. I mean, I’ve never -” you took a second, trying to regain your composure. “I’ve met other vampires, I’ve just never let them...”

He lifted the glass and cocked an eyebrow before taking a drink. This time when he drank, you let him see you watching, feeling your heart stutter in your chest. Again, his tongue wiped away any trace of your blood from his lips and he looked oddly satisfied.

“Do you like it here? Are you settling in?” He asked, and you were starting to realise he was trying to get a measure of you. “Are your rooms to your liking?”

“Yes, you have a lovely home,” you answered before taking an awkward drink. You weren’t sure what else to say about it because, outside of the library, there wasn’t much to the penthouse. In fact, once you started thinking about it, you couldn’t help but realise that it seemed a little cold and lonely. But, perhaps it was different in his rooms, perhaps that was where he’d made his penthouse into a home.

“You like the library,” a statement more than a question.

“Yes, I - how did you know?” Had he been spying on you? Watching you?

“My copy of Dorian Gray,” he stated softly, and you felt your breath catch, “it doesn’t seem to be where I left it.”

“It’s in my room,” you answered, worried that you might have already done something wrong - you couldn’t afford to lose this job, not after only a week. “No one told me that I couldn’t take it out of the library, I just wanted something to read in bed and I -”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, doing a poor job of hiding his amusement. “You can take as many books from the library as you want, as long as they’re returned undamaged.”

It seemed to mean a lot to him and, perhaps, you should have asked why but, instead, you found yourself feeling indignant.

“I’d never damage a book,” you told him, “especially one that didn’t belong to me.”

Again, he seemed more amused than fazed by your response. “So, you like to read?”

You nodded.

“Why?” His eyes stayed on you, staring through you, right to your soul. At least, that was how it felt. Your lips parted, but you didn’t have an answer for him. Why did anyone like to read? “Escapism? Perhaps to imagine a better life? Or is it love and fantasies of fictional men who will treat you better than anyone in the real world that you enjoy?”

“Is that why you have all those books? To fantasise about fictional men?” you found yourself responding, trying desperately to ignore the heat burning through your cheeks.

He let out a laugh, a deep and dark sound that sent a shiver up your spine. The smirk on his lips grew and, for a moment, he just watched you before shrugging.

“Sometimes men, sometimes women,” he admitted with ease, lifting his glass and draining it, leaving nothing but a pinkish stain on the inside of the glass. “I like you,” he decided and you weren’t sure if he meant you or your blood. “This is going to be fun.”

With that, he got to his feet and all you could do was watch, getting some idea of his height and how he held himself once he was standing. He moved with the confidence of a predator who knew his own strength even if others couldn’t see it, and you knew immediately that you shouldn’t underestimate him.

“You should return to your rooms,” he told you, turning and heading for the kitchen to get rid of his empty glass. “I wouldn’t want Lissa finding out that you’ve already broken your contract.”

For a second you weren’t sure what he meant, but then you saw the time. Twenty past nine. He’d kept you talking for almost half an hour. (Could he really fire you for that when he was the reason?)

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the time, I -” you got to your feet so quickly that you almost fell back down

“I’m joking,” it hadn’t sounded like a joke. He glanced back towards you, offering something of a smile. “You should go back to your rooms and rest, though. And tomorrow, take more care when you’re drawing blood. I wouldn’t want you fainting.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer before moving towards the elevator and slipping inside once the doors opened.

For a few seconds, you stood, at a loss over what had just happened, before quickly making your way back to your own rooms.

CHAPTER TWO

End Notes : Sooo... there it is. I honestly hate starting new fics because I always feel like they start a little slow. I'm not sure what the posting schedule will look like for this one, I'm hoping once a week (on Friday evenings) but I'll post an update or something if that changes.

Thanks for checking this out, I know it's a bit of a departure from Catch Me if You Can. Have a wonderful weekend.

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #billy russo imagine #(ob)ts ff

338 notes · View notes

oddinary4bts · 1 year

Text

The Forgotten Spaces | Masterpost (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆status: completed

☆pairings: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader, Taehyung x OC (reader in What Was Hidden), Yoongi x OC (barely present in this fic), Jin x OC, Hobi x OC, Jisung x Felix (Stray Kids)

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆total word count: 146k

☆a/n: in love with this story. That's it, that's the note. I hope you'll love it just as much as I do <3

☆Special mention to @moonleeai for her work as my beta reader for all chapters of this fic

☆Inspired from What Was Hidden, a @daechwitatamic fic. You might want to read WWH before you read The Forgotten Spaces, as WWH takes place before The Forgotten Spaces

☆Read the sequel, When the End Comes, here!

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

➳Teaser

➳Chapter one: when you meet again after a year (8.5k)

You didn't miss me?

➳Chapter two: when you ask your rival for help (7.7k)

You are as annoying as I remember you to be, Jeon Jungkook.

➳Chapter three: when you learn why Jungkook disappeared (10.2k)

And the worst part is, it hurts. All. The. Fucking. Time.

➳Chapter four: when you finally let go of old animosity (9.6k)

I'm just relieved you haven't changed.

➳Chapter five: when a weekend away changes everything (15.7k)

You've been confusing me all weekend.

➳Chapter six: when you realize you are too late (5.8k)

See, that's exactly why I do not want to talk to you.

➳Chapter seven: when you live with the aftermath of heartbreak (8.7k)

One day it won't hurt anymore, right?

➳Drabble #1

➳Drabble #2

➳Chapter eight: when he realizes what he lost (12.6k)

I care about you.

➳Drabble #3

➳Chapter nine: when the healing starts (7k)

You're a fucking idiot, Jeon Jungkook.

➳Chapter ten: when you start falling, slowly (14.7k)

We start here, right now, and we see where we can go.

➳Chapter eleven: when he shows that he cares (12.5k)

I think we're both still hurt by everything that happened

➳Chapter twelve: when he catches you (8.1k)

I thought then that you weren't supposed to be happy with me

➳Chapter thirteen: when a party brings you even closer (8.9k)

Make sure all I can remember is your name.

➳Chapter fourteen: when you finally make it official (13.1k)

I love you.

☆☆☆☆☆

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justagalwhowrites · 4 months

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 12: It Doesn’t Need to Mean Anything

You and Joel take Sarah to the concert. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 11, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Joel and Goldie are still morons. Also... mild smut 🫠 Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 10.7K (no one look at me)

A/N: So much thanks to my beautiful bestie @dundienominee, official Swiftie Consultant for this chapter. She was integral to song selection and Eras Tour outfit choices because I am too casual of a fan to have the knowledge to do that well. Thank you thank you thank you for this and for always letting me bounce the angstiest shit off you, Bestie! Love you!!

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

You stopped sleeping over at Joel’s.

The distance took more adjustment than you’d expected and it wasn’t something either of you had explicitly stated, it just felt… necessary. You were getting too close to Joel - not something you would have even considered possible, once upon a time - and you needed to pull back before you ended up wounded and alone like you’d been more than a decade earlier.

He began separating from you that night, when his hand was still holding your face and your body was still tight against his. You kissed him until he pulled away - not wanting it to end - and when he finally broke the kiss, your faces stayed close together for a moment, close enough that your noses touched and you could see the reflection from the sparks of the fireworks in his eyes. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his palm at the small of your back, the roughness of the callus under his fingers at the nape of your neck. If someone had asked you, in that moment, where you were, you couldn’t have told them.

And then a gunshot cracked through the air, making the both of you jump and shock away from each other.

“Fuckin’ assholes,” Joel snapped, looking around as though there was anyone else around you at the water’s edge to blame. “Shit’s dangerous and there are still idiots who decide to shoot guns in the air just because the goddamn calendar changed, fuckin’ morons…”

There were a few feet between you now and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were in pajama pants and a long sleeved t-shirt and your nipples were pricked from the cold and the kiss and probably visible through the thin cotton. You crossed your arms over your chest, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed.

“At least we’re in the middle of nowhere,” you said. “Less chance of the bullet falling on a person…”

“Still,” he muttered, crossing his arms too. “Makes me nervous. Dumbasses like that should have their guns taken away, don’t act right…”

You tightened your jaw but nodded, still watching him.

“Sorry,” he said. You weren’t sure why. “We should probably get back inside, though. Gotta get the kid to bed, she’s cranky if she don’t get enough sleep….”

“Can’t have a cranky Sarah,” you smiled a little.

Joel looked at you for a moment and, for a delusional second, you half expected him to kiss you again. Then, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his flannel pants and rocked back on his heels once before starting up the hill toward the house. For the first few steps, he walked to the side almost as much as he did forward, until there was a good five feet between the two of you. You ignored the pang of hurt inside your chest and gave him a tight smile as he held the back door open for you, finding Tommy and Sarah on their feet and yelling at the TV as they raced in Mario Kart.

He sat as far from you as he could at breakfast the next morning, taking the spot beside Sarah and across from Tommy at the kitchen table and pressing himself against the wall in the hallway when you ran into him there and needed past, making sure your body didn’t so much as brush against his the rest of the holiday weekend.

When you went back to normal life, it reminded you of the few days after Joel had accidentally seen your shirtless selfie: radio silence.

This time, you refused to crack first. If he regretting kissing you, that was on him. It wasn’t like you’d begged him to. Hell, you hadn’t even asked him to. He’d offered - after kissing you out of the blue just the day before no less - and now he couldn’t even look at you. Or text you, apparently.

But you were starting to get a few steps beyond anxious when you still hadn’t heard from him by Friday afternoon. You hadn’t spent a weekend without Joel since you’d found each other again. You weren’t really sure what to do with yourself if you weren’t with Joel. Even though there was definitely a book you should be writing, doing that when you weren’t sure where you stood with your best friend seemed impossible.

Still determined to not be the first one to reach out but not willing to face the prospect of being alone in your house with your cat - and with the temptation to call your almost ex-husband who actually had texted you since you’d last seen him - you got on Tinder.

You swiped during a break between classes after triple checking that your age parameters wouldn’t catch any students, largely striking out until you found Stephen’s profile. He was a professor, too, but at Austin Community College. There was a picture of him in Napa Valley in his profile and one of him with a little girl (one he said was his niece) sitting on his shoulders. You smiled at that. You didn’t think you’d ever have children - though, really, you wanted some - but there was something about knowing a man was good with kids…

You swiped right and got the alert that it was a match. He’d already swiped on you. Your heart sped up a little. Maybe you weren’t completely undatable, after all.

Stephen messaged you just a few minutes later.

Hi! How’s your Friday?

You were working on typing a reply when another message popped up.

Not to be a creep but… are you really who you say you are?

You frowned at your phone for a moment.

Hi back! It’s alright for the first Friday of a new semester. How about you? And yes, the last time I checked. Why?

It took him a little longer to respond that time.

Let me know if I’m failing on the creep front but I may be what you call a fan.

You laughed once.

A fan?

A fan. Your writing is brilliant, I can’t help it.

Well, I have good editors.

I’m sure you do but editors only get you so far. Trust me, I teach the intro English classes, I know.

You laughed again and the two of you messaged back and forth until you had to go teach your last class of the day. When you finished, you checked your phone before leaving the lecture hall and there was a message waiting for you.

I hope this isn’t too fast but can I take you out tomorrow? I’m sure you already have plans but on the off chance you don’t…

You smiled.

No plans that don’t involve my cat. What did you have in mind?

Stephen, as it happened, had plenty in mind.

After getting a drink and chatting for a bit, he took you to salsa dancing night, something you’d never had thought to do yourself in a million years. The music was loud, the room was crowded and the energy of it all made your skin pebble as you smiled.

“C’mon,” he held his hand out to you. “Let’s dance.”

“Oh, no,” you waved him off. “I can’t.”

“I’ll show you,” he smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

He led you to a quiet corner of the dance floor and showed you the most basic steps and you let him guide you through it as you watched your feet and tried not to step on his toes. By the end, you were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe and he was laughing, too, putting an arm around your shoulders and guiding you to a booth in the corner.

Stephen got you a cocktail and settled in across from you, the two of you talking about the semester so far and books and your favorite places to travel.

You were surprised to find that you were having… well, fun. You hadn’t really had fun out with someone who wasn’t Joel in so long the concept seemed almost foreign to you. And Stephen was smart, you had shared interests, he was sweet and funny and insightful. You liked him.

But… he wasn’t Joel.

That was the thought you were trying to shake when he left you alone at the table, excusing himself to the bathroom and to grab another round of drinks and you decided to check your phone.

Gale had texted you, seeing if you wanted to get coffee. Like the last few texts he’d sent, you didn’t respond. You knew, if you did, you’d end up back in his bed and you’d never be able to move on from him, not really. Hell, you’d let yourself become the other woman while he carried on with your younger, prettier, thinner replacement, keeping her on his arm at every faculty event and book release he used to bring you to while fucking you on the side. A mistress to your own husband. Pathetic.

But the temptation to respond was still there. If there was one man besides Joel who’d been able to hold your attention, it was Gale. When you’d met him, you hadn’t been sure you’d ever recover from loving Joel. It seemed like he would be there, as some part of you, forever. And that was true, he never really left. It was more that you seemed to find room inside yourself to love someone who wasn’t Joel. You realized now that it hadn’t been able to love him as much as you did Joel - or even, really, in the same way - but you did love him. That, now that you were faced with the intensity of how Joel seemed to take hold of you, seemed miraculous. You didn’t expect to find that feeling again so easily.

You looked toward the bathrooms, where you knew Stephen had disappeared to. Stephen, the man who you had every reason to have feelings for, who had taken you out for a great date, who could be someone that could pull you out of this hideous pattern with Joel and Gale if you just gave him the chance.

You sighed and closed your texts just as a new one came through, this one from Joel.

Your heart stuttered. You hadn’t heard from him in so long that just seeing his name hit you hard. You glanced up. Stephen was just coming out of the men’s room and heading for the bar.

You opened the text.

This radio silence shit sucks.

You scoffed a little.

You started it.

He responded immediately.

You at home? Come over. Sarah’s about to go to bed, we can watch the next Curtis and Viper commentary in the marathon.

Sorry, I can’t tonight.

You looked up to the bar again, Stephen still waiting to talk to the bartender. By the time you looked back down at your phone, Joel had texted back.

Why not? Puck will behave for a few hours, promise.

You frowned.

Believe it or not, I’m not home with my cat on a Saturday night.

Bullshit.

Is not. I’m on a date, actually. I do have a life outside of you, you know.

Stephen was just getting to the bar to order when your phone screen lit up, Joel sticking his tongue out at you taking over the whole of it as he called you.

You sighed and answered it.

“Hi.”

“Who the fuck are you on a date with?” Joel demanded. “It had better not be fucking Brad…”

“So good to hear from you,” you said. “How have you been for the past, I don’t know, WEEK.”

“Five days. Answer the question, Goldie,” he said. “Are you out with your goddamn husband?”

“No,” you rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “I’m out with a guy named Stephen, he’s very nice actually…”

“Who the fuck is Stephen?”

“I met him on Tinder, thank you very much,” you said.

“What?” Joel said and you could picture him leaning forward on his couch, his elbow on his knee. “Wait, when? I didn’t vet some fucker named Stephen…”

“You don’t get to vet people when you don’t talk to me for a week,” you hissed into the phone, glancing at the bar to see Stephen paying for the drinks. “Besides, I don’t need you to review my damn dates like some kind of baby sitter…”

“Five days. And you have shit taste in men,” he cut you off. “So yeah, you do.”

“Yeah, well, when you ghost me…”

“I didn’t fuckin’ ghost you!”

“When you GHOST me for a week…”

“Five days!”

“…you don’t get to judge me for my life choices!”

“I didn’t ghost you,” he snapped. “I thought we could both use a little space…”

“Uh huh.”

“And I didn’t think you’d do something stupid when I left you unsupervised for 30 goddamn seconds!”

“OK this isn’t stupid,” you said. “He’s a nice guy, he’s an English professor who likes wine and has actually asked me questions about myself…”

“Look at you go.”

“Fuck off,” you said, watching as Stephen headed back to the table with drinks. “He’s coming back, I have to go.”

“No, hold on…”

“Bye!”

You hung up and slapped the phone face down on the table with a little too much force as Stephen smiled, setting your cocktail in front of you.

“If that’s a friend calling to get you out of this, I promise I won’t give you a hard time,” he said, a slightly teasing edge to his voice.

“No,” you laughed. “Well, I mean, it is a friend but no, not calling to get me out of it. Just a friend with a history of just the worst timing and a total inability to read the room.”

“She sounds great,” he laughed back.

You didn’t correct him on the gender, instead just laughing with him and taking a sip of your drink.

The two of you closed the bar down and went to Waffle House after, sitting on opposite sides of the booth so you could stretch out and put your feet up as you pushed your syrup soaked chocolate chip waffle around on your plate.

“So,” you said as you watched Stephen from across the table. “Not to put a damper on things but… I feel like you should know that I’m not looking for anything too serious right now…”

“Oh,” Stephen frowned a little. “Can… Can I ask why?”

“My life is kind of complicated at the moment?” You said it more like a question, as though the difficulties were somehow negotiable. “My divorce isn’t finalized yet, my sister is pregnant and I’m her only support system, I have a book deadline later this year…” I can’t stop thinking about kissing my best friend. You didn’t say that. “I don’t feel like I can really be a great partner to anyone right now. But I would like someone I can have fun with when I can? If you’re OK with that?”

He nodded slowly, looking at his mug of coffee for a moment.

“Do you know how long it’s going to be complicated?” He asked. “Just… Cards on the table, I already really like you. I don’t want to get in over my head here.”

“Another few months at least,” you said. “But not forever. At least, I hope not forever.”

He nodded again, turning his mug slowly on the table and you watched as the handle went back and forth.

“I can handle a few months,” he said eventually, looking over at you.

You smiled a little, wishing that him saying that made your heart pick up the way it did when Joel touched you.

“Good,” you said. “Me too.”

When the two of you left the restaurant, he went to kiss you goodbye but you dodged it, kissing him on the cheek instead. By the time you were home, you had a flurry of texts from Joel, the last one demanding to know when you made it home safely.

I’m home, you control freak.

It was so late you didn’t expect a response but one came through anyway as you stood at your bathroom sink taking off your makeup.

Glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere.

Why are you still up? Go to BED!

I can’t sleep if I know you’re out there with some random!

You rolled your eyes.

Well now that you know no one has stuffed me in the trunk of their car…

I’ll try to care less in the future.

“Jesus,” you muttered to yourself as Joel texted again.

Lunch tomorrow?

Tomorrow Sunday or tomorrow Monday? You wrote. It’s after midnight.

Lunch Sunday, he said stop being a dick.

You laughed a little at that. At least things weren’t that different, even if you wished they were.

Lunch the next day felt normal, even as Joel demanded to see Stephen’s Tinder profile and look at some of his messages. Most things went back to normal after that, too. Everything except for the sleepovers.

But now that you were getting ready to leave for Dallas for the concert, you were nervous. You had one hotel room, a small suite the two of you had picked out together, one with two beds in the bedroom and a pull out sofa in the living room. When you were booking the trip, it made sense. Sarah could sleep in a bed with either of you or in the living room on her own and either way, you and Joel wouldn’t be beholden to the bedtime of an 11-year-old. It’s not like you needed space from each other then.

Now, things felt different. It had been three months since you’d last shared a room with Joel. The casual intimacy that had existed between you had evaporated like mist and you wondered if it had always been a causal, ephemeral thing even when it had felt so grounding.

At least, you thought, you’d have the separate beds. You’d booked the room before sharing a bed was quite so commonplace in your friendship. At least you wouldn’t need to be quite that close to him knowing how he felt about it. That was a comfort.

And you were looking forward to some distance from your sister. Now that she was getting closer to her due date, you were together all the time. From lamaze classes to parenting seminars to going with her to AA and NA meetings as moral support, you were with Anna more now than you had been since the two of you were girls and it was summer vacation and you had nothing else to do.

“I swear to God that one old mom thinks we’re a couple,” she snickered as the two of you got pancakes after a lamaze class one day.

“What?” You gaped at her. “Ew!”

“Oh, for sure,” she said, reaching over and stealing a piece of bacon off your plate. You glared at her and she shrugged. “What? I’m eating for two.”

“Uh huh.”

“But she definitely thinks we’re lesbians,” she continued. “She was giving me the stink eye before you came in today. I think she thinks you’re the scary one, by the way, because she definitely stopped when you got there.”

“Jesus,” you shuddered. “Wrong on so many levels. One, you’re my baby sister and that’s just gross. Two, you are definitely the scary one.”

“Oh, for sure,” Anna nodded seriously and then laughed. “Besides, if you were my girlfriend I definitely wouldn’t be letting you run off with some old flame for the weekend…”

“Joel is not an old flame,” you rolled your eyes.

“Sure,” she said in a teasing tone. “And Stephen is fine with this?”

“Stephen doesn’t get a say in what I do,” you replied. “We’re just seeing each other now and then, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever you say,” she said, giving you a look that you weren’t sure you wanted to deal with.

You hadn’t told her about the kiss with Joel. You hadn’t told her about losing your virginity to Joel before you left for college, either. But somehow, she seemed to know. Your sister, for all the distance you’d forced and all the troubles she’d had, just knew.

And that made you more nervous than you should have been for spending the weekend away.

But you packed a bag - featuring a costume for the concert picked from your closet by Sarah - and headed for Joel’s, Puck in his little cat carrier on your passenger seat.

“Aunt Goldie!” Sarah rocketed out of the house, her curls flying as she ran for your car. “It’s here! We’re really going!”

“We are!” You said with a laugh, catching her as she threw herself at you. Joel followed behind her, getting your duffle from the back seat.

“Did you remember your outfit?” She asked, pulling back and looking up at you with wide eyes.

“I absolutely did,” you smiled at her before looking at her dad. “Hey Joel.”

“Goldie,” he gave you a nod. “You ready for this?”

“For a road trip with my favorite kid?” You asked. “Absolutely.”

You got Puck settled at Joel’s - his neighbors, the Adlers, promising to look in on both cats while you were away - and got loaded into Joel’s truck, a bag of snacks and cooler of drinks sitting next to Sarah in the back seat.

“We’re listening from the start of the discography,” she said, leaning forward and grabbing the input for her phone. “We need to make sure we know all the eras before we get there.”

Joel looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Whatever you say, baby girl.”

It was easy to fall into life with Sarah and Joel, even just for the few hours in the truck. Sarah dramatically performing into an imaginary microphone in the back seat, Joel reminding her to buckle back in every time she undid her seatbelt for a particularly big dance move. You stopped in West for pastries and chocolate milk and, by the time you pulled into the hotel on Friday evening, the three of you were a little hopped up on sugar and in desperate need of real food.

“Oh this place is fancy,” Sarah said, a mocking and overwrought English accent on the last word as you looked around the lobby.

“Well, needed a room with space for the three of us…” Joel said, voice trailing off as he looked for the check in counter before spotting it. “Don’t go wanderin’ off, alright? I’ll get us checked in, we can drop the bags and figure out something besides junk for dinner…”

“But I like junk” Sarah said.

“Yeah, I know you do,” he said before looking to you. “Keep her out of trouble, will you?”

“Bold of you to assume she’d be the problem.”

“Knew you’d be trouble,” he smirked a little before going to get in the check in line.

You stuck close to Sarah, who was using the short wall of the lobby garden as a balance beam as she worked out the pent up energy from the hours spent in the car.

“How many songs do you think she’ll sing?” Sarah asked after the spun on the end of the wall, her sneakers squeaking on the polished stone.

“I dunno,” you said. “Probably a lot since the concert is a few hours long.”

“I don’t want to see spoilers but my friends keep sending videos,” she said. “I haven’t watched any of them, I want to see it all in person.”

She did a jump like she was imitating a gymnast, making you instinctively reach for her, trying to hide your hiss of fear as she landed smoothly on the narrow wall. She looked at your worried expression and laughed.

“Please be careful,” you said as she started walking the wall again. “If you get yourself killed I’ll have to go through the hassle of selling these tickets online…”

Sarah snorted.

“You’d miss me,” she said, teasing.

“That too,” you smiled a little before looking toward the check in counter. Joel was at the front now but he looked to be in deep conversation with the man behind the desk. You frowned. “Stay put, kiddo.”

“Keep jumping on the wall, got it.”

You shot Sarah a glare before heading for the desk.

“No, that’s not going to work,” Joel was saying. “I booked the room I booked for a reason, I need two beds…”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” the man said. “I’m afraid we’re completely full this weekend and this is the only room I can put you in…”

“What’s happening?” You asked, eyebrows knitting together and looking between them.

“They don’t have the room we picked,” Joel said, eyes darting quickly to you, almost like he was afraid to look at you. “They only have rooms with one bed…”

“Wait, what?” You looked at the man behind the counter. “Seriously? We have a confirmation number, we…”

“I know, and I apologize,” he said. “With the concerts, we’re booked solid this weekend and there must have been a mixup with an earlier check in. I can’t move someone who’s already checked in. I already looked at our sister property across town but they’re completely full, too…”

Joel looked at you, his eyes a little wider than you were used to seeing them. Almost like he was going to panic at just the thought of sharing a bed with you.

“We can make it work, right?” You said, watching him. “I mean… it’s not that bad, is it?”

“Right,” Joel said. “Yeah, you’re right…”

He turned back to the man.

“I guess we’ll take it,” he said. “Three keys, please.”

Your stomach knotted a little. You knew the situation was less than ideal, that the two of you had been actively avoiding that level of contact in the months since the new year, but it’s not as though you’d never shared a bed. Was kissing you really so bad that Joel was on the verge of a panic at the thought of sleeping next to you for two nights?

Maybe it was. Maybe you hadn’t fully understood his level of disgust at it.

You weren’t stupid, after all. You knew what he thought about kissing you. And if you hadn’t already known, you knew for sure when you overheard him talking to Tommy about it.

“It was a mistake,” he’d said when he thought you couldn’t hear. “It won’t happen again, I’m done doing stupid shit with her and then regretting it…”

Being close to you - touching you - was stupid shit. Even under the guise of friendship it was stupid shit. That had stung.

It shouldn’t have.

You’d known he felt that way, you had for years. It shouldn’t have made your chest tighten and your stomach turn the way it did. He’d made it clear - since the first time the two of you had ever done anything physical - that it was a mistake. You weren’t about to risk losing him by pressing it, no matter how much you wanted to scream that he was the one who kissed you, not the other way around.

But, you supposed, it didn’t really matter. If he didn’t want you that close to him, you weren’t about to force it on him. He was still happy enough to be your friend, even if he didn’t want to sleep next to you anymore. That was fine. You could live with that. And you could share a bed with him for a weekend without blurring that line again.

Joel got the keys and you got Sarah from her makeshift balance beam before heading up to the room. He shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot on the elevator ride up and you tried to keep from grinding your teeth as Sarah bounced eagerly on the balls of her feet, shooting off like a rocket the second the doors opened.

“Room 1521!” Joel called after her as she took off down the hall. “Jesus, I swear that kid has the energy to power a small city…”

She beat you there and Joel handed her a key and Sarah did the honors of letting you into the room.

“Oh cool!” She squealed, running in. “I get the couch bed right?”

“Uh…” Joel’s eyes darted to you.

“There’s a TV by it!” She ran to it. “Oh and the fridge is in this room! This one’s mine!”

You just shrugged at him and he sighed.

“Sure is, baby girl,” he said. “You wanna get changed before we go get something to eat?”

“Nope!” She said, kicking off her shoes and jumping from couch cushion to couch cushion. “But if we get back early enough, can we go swimming?”

“Sure,” Joel said. “Give me n’Goldie a minute and we’ll head out…”

You gave Joel a tight smile and led the way to the bedroom.

The bed, at least, was a king sized one, bigger than yours or Joel’s at home. You could keep to your separate sides of it well enough.

“I’ll take the side by the door,” he said. You were about to protest - that was the right side of the bed and he always slept on the left - but kept your mouth shut. You didn’t have a side of the bed with Joel. Or, you shouldn’t, anyway. “Did you need to change?”

“Just out of these leggings,” you said. “I only need a minute.”

“Right,” he said. “I gotta use the bathroom anyway, so…”

He stood there, awkward, for a moment before heading to the attached bathroom. You set your bag on the long, low dresser and unzipped it, rifling around for a moment until you found your jeans. You peeled off your leggings and folded them up, setting them beside your bag when your phone started vibrating in your jacket pocket.

You frowned. You almost never got phone calls. You pulled your phone out and saw Anna’s ID picture and you answered quickly.

“Anna?” You said, heart racing. “Is everything OK? Are you OK? Is the baby OK?”

“What?” She asked. “Yeah, everything’s fine, why wouldn’t it be?”

You relaxed a little.

“You just don’t usually call,” you said. “What’s up?”

“Oh,” she laughed. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean freak you out. I just got an email from the OBGYN, they need to move my scan next week, can you do Wednesday afternoon?”

“Is Thursday an option?” You asked. “I have more afternoon classes on Wednesdays…”

“You decent?” Joel called from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Looks like they have Thursday,” Anna said.

“Hang on!” You called to Joel, still standing there in your pale pink satin panties, before turning your attention back to Anna. “Thursday is better, just let me know a time and I can adjust some office hours.”

“Great!” She said. “I’ll text you the details. Have fun at the concert!”

You were about to say your goodbyes when the bathroom door opened and, suddenly, you were standing there in your underwear in front of your best friend.

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, Joel’s eyes wide and ranging over you as you stood, frozen with your phone clutched to the side of your head.

“Sorry!” Joel said quickly, turning around as you scrambled to hang up the phone and cover yourself.

“I said hang on!” You said, grabbing your jeans. Joel glanced back over his shoulder before whipping his head back around.

“I thought you said come on!” He said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping into the pants as quickly as you could, trying to wrestle the denim quickly over the swell of your ass before buttoning them. “There, you’re safe.”

“Sorry,” he said again, turning around cautiously. As though you were a grenade that might explode if he caught a glimpse of your bared skin. “I wasn’t trying… I’m sorry.”

“I said it’s fine,” you grabbed your purse. “Let’s get something besides junk food in Sarah otherwise I’m sure we’re going to pay for it later.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Let’s go.”

Joel was still tense next to you at dinner and you damn near chugged a glass of wine in the hopes it would help untie the knot in your stomach.

Thankfully, you’d brought beer in the cooler from Austin and you grabbed two of them - putting the cans in koozies to cover the labels - when taking Sarah to the pool after dinner. The two of you sat and watched her play with other girls who, you assumed, were also in town for the concert.

Joel relaxed a little then, just the two of you tucked into a corner of the hot tub with a beer in his hand.

“Who knew I’d feel so old at 33,” he groaned a little, leaning his head back so it rested on the edge of the hot tub. “Just drove a few hours and I’m already wonderin’ how I’m gonna keep up with her tomorrow.”

“We do have to keep her busy most of the day,” you smiled a little, watching as she lined up at the edge of the deep end of the pool next to three other girls. They jumped in one by one, each girl doing some kind of dramatic twist or funny hand gesture as they fell toward the water, shrieking and laughing as they came up for air. “It’s going to be a challenge.”

“Thanks for doin’ this,” he said, tone more serious as he looked at you. “It really does mean a lot. We don’t have a lot of people, always felt like I’ve let her down by not having more. I’m glad she’s got someone else who cares about her, you know?”

You smiled a little.

“Of course I care about her,” you said. “She means the world to me. You both do.”

His eyes traced your face and your heart beat a little faster in spite of yourself.

“Hey Dad!” Sarah called, pulling you away from each other. “Aunt Goldie! Watch this!”

“We’re watchin’!” Joel called back.

Sarah looked to her new friend - a girl who looked to be about her age with red hair in a braid down her back - and they gave each other a nod before running for the edge of the pool and jumping for the water, the girls twisting in the air to slap each other’s hands before they splashed down. You laughed and clapped as they surfaced, Sarah beaming.

“Looks great, baby girl,” Joel said. “But no runnin’ by the pool, just like at home. It’s not safe.”

Sarah rolled her eyes as she swam to the side of the pool and going back to her new found friends.

Things felt almost normal as the three of you headed back to the room, towels over your shoulders and a trail of water behind you in the elevators. Sarah settled quickly once you were back in the hotel room, Joel telling her she couldn’t have any more soda or juice after she brushed her teeth but he did let her pick a movie to put on the TV as she settled into the pull out couch, looking like she was getting away with something as she watched Legally Blonde from her bed.

Joel stayed in the bathroom far longer than you thought he’d need to as you both got changed into pajamas. You’d seen him go through his nighttime routine enough times, you knew he was trying to make sure he didn’t accidentally see you in your panties again.

You had, at least, planned ahead for sharing a room with Joel, packing a fairly conservative set of sleep shorts with a matching shirt and changing quickly so you could spare him the sight. You climbed in bed when you were done, staying as far on your side as you could reach, a book propped open on your knees.

Joel knocked before opening the door, anyway, and you winced as you replied.

“You’re safe,” you said. He still opened the door cautiously, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw you tucked below the covers. You smiled tightly at him as he climbed in bed beside you, his curls still damp from the pool. You tried not to just look at him - you shouldn’t want to just look at him, he was your friend - as he got settled and scrolled his phone for a moment before he looked toward you.

“Want to watch a shitty movie?”

“God, yes,” you said, putting your bookmark in.

Joel laughed a little and turned the TV on, finding the Hallmark channel with some particularly insipid movie you didn’t need to know the plot of to keep up with, even coming in half way through.

By the time it was over, the two of you had drifted closer on the bed, both of you a little breathless from laughter. You turned out the lights and lay down, more beside each other than against each other, and you stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying not to think about the fact that the warmth soaking into you came from Joel.

“M’sorry about the room mix up,” he said quietly into the dark. “I hope it’s not… I don’t want you to feel weird.”

“I don’t,” you said quickly. “It’s fine.”

“Good,” he said. “Because the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable…”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, either,” your voice dropped low enough that it was almost a whisper.

“You don’t,” he said, almost as fast as you’d responded to him.

“Good,” you said after a moment. “Goodnight, Joel.”

“Night, Goldie.”

***

Joel had a hard-on when he woke up.

A goddamn boner pressed against his best friend’s ass, an ass he’d seen barely concealed by the softest looking fucking satin or silk or whatever the fuck women’s panties were made of, a sight he couldn’t seem to shake. Not that it was that different from seeing you in a swim suit but there was something about the intimacy of seeing you in a state of undress when he knew - or was pretty damn sure, anyway - that he was the only man who’d seen you that way in months. He liked that sight being reserved just for him.

He needed to get the fuck over that.

He was trying to. Really, truly, sincerely he was trying. He’d managed to get some distance from you - though that had helped less than he really expected. But he couldn’t bring himself to just cut you off.

Even though that would probably be the smart thing to do.

Clearly you didn’t feel for him the way he felt for you. He’d kissed you - twice - and you acted like it was nothing. Hell, you’d jumped on Tinder as soon as you got home from the cabin and found fucking Stephen. His stomach had twisted in on itself when he saw that text. Consciously, he knew you didn’t feel the same way he did but fuck, he’d hoped it would take you longer than a few days to do something like resort to Tinder after he kissed you.

And now here he was, his dick against your ass as you slept tucked against him. He wondered what had done it. Had he dreamed about you and those pink little panties only to forget it when he woke? Had he just felt your body against him as you slept, all curved back into him and making your home against his torso with your legs all tucked up toward your stomach so the lush of your ass was nestled right against his cock? Had he just smelled your hair from where you’d moved in the night, the scent of you all close and beautiful driving him to a step beyond wanting?

It didn’t really matter, he supposed. All that mattered now was making sure you didn’t know it happened.

He adjusted himself delicately, his cock aching and leaky in the cotton of his pajama pants, rolling slowly onto his back and leaving the arm you were currently using as a pillow below your head. Joel tried to gently extract his arm, hoping he could make it to the bathroom and - after locking the doors - jerking off fast and hard to the memory of you in those little panties

No such luck. You stirred then, uncoiling yourself and stretching out with a satisfied little moan that seemed to have a direct line to his hard cock, making it twitch in the confines of his pants.

“Morning,” you said, voice groggy as you adjusted, lifting off his arm and arching your back before relaxing down into the mattress. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cramp your space…”

“S’fine,” Joel said quickly. The two of you lay in awkward quiet for a moment. “Should probably get movin’…”

“Yup,” you said, getting up quickly. “Big day ahead of us.”

The three of you got ready to go - Sarah already eager to get into her concert outfit and you had to talk her down - before heading to breakfast. Joel just watched you and Sarah talk about her favorite song lyrics over bacon and eggs and wondered how the hell he was supposed to move on from you when you were like this with his daughter.

You went to the aquarium that day, you and Joel just hanging back as Sarah pressed her face against the glass at every exhibit, finding the fish she liked best and trying to learn everything she could about them.

Joel found himself watching you almost as much as he watched his daughter, the streaks of refracted light from the water catching on your eyes and skin and hair.

“What?” You asked when you caught him, a puzzled smile on your face.

“Nothin’,” he shrugged, looking toward the tank.

“OK,” you laughed a little. “Weirdo.”

“That’s me,” he smiled, shaking his head a bit.

“Well, as long as you’re aware.”

The three of you went back to the room with plenty of time to get ready and Sarah practically shoved Joel into the living room the second they were there.

“You’re a boy,” she said before she closed the door. “We have a lot more to do than you.”

There were a few seconds of quiet before the Taylor Swift started playing and Joel laughed a little, distracting himself with a phone game while you and his daughter gave each other makeovers in the bedroom.

“Dad!” Sarah poked her head out a while later.

He set the phone down.

“Yes baby girl?”

“Are you ready?” She said. “Because we have to do a fashion show.”

“Fashion show it up, kiddo,” he said. “M’ready.”

“OK, put New Romantics on,” she said. Joel frowned and she rolled her eyes. “We need a soundtrack, Dad, just do it!”

“Alright, alright,” he said, going into Spotify and finding the song. “Ready when you are.”

“Presenting the eras of Sarah and Goldie,” she said with dramatic flair before throwing the bedroom door open and jumping into the living room in a pink shirt covered in sequins and her white skort. Her hair was in two what she liked to call “space buns” on the top of her head, pink plastic hair ties holding them in place. Her springy curls were covered in glitter and she had on bright pink, sparkling eyeshadow and gem stones on her cheeks as she beamed, her arms over her head as she showed off her outfit. “I’m in my Lover era because it’s the best one, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Joel tried to keep himself from laughing. “That’s a lot of glitter, kiddo.”

“It’s a concert, Dad,” she rolled her eyes as you poked your head around the door to look into the living room and he caught a glimpse of your much darker makeup.

“It’s just a spray,” you said. “It’s supposed to wash out pretty easy.”

“No, don’t show yourself yet!” Sarah shoved you lightly back behind the door. “You have to do it all at once to get the full effect!”

“Sorry!” You called and Joel heard the hint of a laugh on the edges of your voice. “You tell me when it’s OK to come out.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said, turning back to Joel and striking a pose. “Lover is the best because it has the most pink AND it has Cruel Summer on it.”

“Sure,” Joel nodded seriously even though he had no idea what she was talking about. “You look great, baby girl. Very pink.”

She beamed.

“And now, Aunt Goldie -” she stepped to the side of the doorway and threw her arms out with a flourish - “who is in her Reputation era!”

Joel didn’t know what the fuck that meant, either. All he knew was that he had a hard time keeping his mouth shut as you stepped around the door, a sheepish look on your face as you turned in a slow circle to show off your entire outfit. You were in black jeans that hugged every curve of your legs, heeled black boots, a satiny shirt that was low cut enough that he could see a hint of the black lace bra below and a black leather jacket. Your eyes were dark and your lashes were long, your lips blazing red and all he could think about was how much he wanted to ruin that fucking lipstick. He was so busy staring at you like an idiot, he missed what Sarah was saying.

“I’m sorry, kiddo, what was that?” He asked, not looking at Sarah. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you.

“She’s in her reputation era because it’s the most badass - sorry Dad - one,” she said. “And she’s definitely badass. Sorry.”

“I tried to tell her that no, I’m definitely not,” you said. “But she wouldn’t listen.”

“Nah, she’s right,” Joel said, hoping he didn’t look like too much of a fucking idiot as he stared at you. “You…” he tried to find some way to describe you that didn’t make him sound like a dumbass. “You look great.”

You smiled a little.

“Thanks,” you said. “And what are you wearing?”

“Oh, right,” he said, getting up from the couch. “Sarah picked somethin’ for me too…”

He ducked around you into the bedroom and resisted the urge to run his hand over your stomach to the curve of your waist and pull you against him. He changed his shoes into his cowboy boots and got his cowboy hat out from its place in his bag before emerging.

“What era is this, baby girl?” He asked, his hands awkwardly shoved in the pockets of his jeans.

“That’s the evermore era,” Sarah said knowingly. Joel frowned and she rolled her eyes. “Cowboy Like Me. Duh.”

Joel saw you press your lips together as you tried not to laugh.

“Duh, yes,” Joel said.

“Oh! And…” She scampered to her bag and opened the side pocket of her duffle, pulling out fistfuls of plastic beads. “Friendship bracelets!”

She put a few on herself before holding clusters of them out to each of you.

“You’re supposed to trade them with other people at the show! I made a bunch!”

“Thank you!” You said sliding the cluster of them up your arm and turning them in the light. “I didn’t know concerts required so much prep work…”

“We ready to go?” Joel asked. “I know parking’s gonna be a nightmare…”

“Yeah!” Sarah damn near bounded toward the door. “Let’s go!”

The concert was packed, awash with bright colors and excited squeals as the three of you settled in, Sarah immediately striking up a conversation with a girl about her age in a purple dress, trading bracelets with her.

“Oh, right,” you said, leaning around Joel to see what Sarah was doing. You started looking over the mass of beads on your wrist and selecting one, passing it over to him. “This one seems good.”

Joel took it, most of the beads letters that said Call It What You Want. He made a mental note to listen to the song at some point. He smiled a little, putting it on the wrist that didn’t have any bracelets yet so he wouldn’t accidentally give it away.

“Thanks,” he said, looking at his own wrist until he found the one that made the most sense to him and handed it over before he could think better of it. “Here, in trade.”

You smiled and took it before laughing a little.

“You Belong With Me, huh?” You asked. He shrugged and you traced your thumb over the letters before sliding it on your wrist. “Thank you.”

“Dad!” Sarah grabbed his arm and held up hers. “Look! She gave me her Lover one!”

“That’s great, baby girl,” he smiled at the glittery pastel beads, Sarah’s eyes wide and bright.

It was impossible to not love how happy Sarah was here. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her smile quite so huge or seen her eyes quite so bright. It was like she was getting everything she had ever dreamed as she chattered away to every girl around them as they waited for the show to start. He drank it in, trying to make sure he remembered clearly, sharply how it felt to see her so happy. After a while, he looked to you to find you watching Sarah, too, a look on your face that was almost as happy as hers and you looked so beautiful he almost wasn’t tempted to look at the plush swell of your lace clad cleavage below your satin shirt.

Almost.

“What?” You laughed a little, gaze meeting his just as the lights dimmed.

“Thank you,” he said. “For wanting to make her happy.”

You just smiled gently before taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, Joel’s heart skipping a beat as everyone’s attention turned to the stage and cheered, the music starting.

He didn’t pay much attention to the music during the concert, more interested in watching Sarah have fun and you indulging her, happily dancing along with her and clapping excitedly when she did.

But there was one song in a slower section that he couldn’t help but notice. You’d been swaying along to the music and Joel had been appreciating the guitar when your head drifted over and rested on his shoulder. He froze for a moment, looking at you with the small smile on your red lips and your eyes all soft as you watched the stage and fuck he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you and he wanted it to be unlike every other time he kissed you, each of them full of driving want or couched in some pretense. Instead, he wanted to kiss you all soft and slow, gentle and earnest. He wanted to take his time and memorize the taste of you and the way your body felt when cradled against him just so.

But he couldn’t do that so he tried to focus on the song but the lyrics cut him to the quick.

One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love

The words were striking in their familiarity, like they’d been written just for him. It was a moment he’d had a long time ago, almost 20 years back now, a lightning bolt that made him stare straight up at his ceiling in the middle of the night, right at the spot over his bed that had some Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition model poster tacked into the popcorn plaster. The model didn’t hold a candle to you and your slow building smiles and the way you grabbed his bicep for support when you laughed.

Because he loved you.

He’d never loved anything outside of his family before but he loved you. The realization swallowed him up, swift and devastating, because he knew - even at 16 he knew - that it would never work. You were too smart, you burned too bright, you wouldn’t have your feet glued to this place the way his were. You’d move on after high school and go change the world and he’d be able to read your name in the paper and say that he knew you once.

Except he’d always assumed that, eventually, he’d move on. That he’d love something else, find some slice of that all encompassing feeling in another woman. He was just 16 then, after all. Who the fuck married someone they met in high school these days? He’d move on.

But he didn’t. He’d just poured all the love he had into his daughter until he was struck by you again and realized that no, it hadn’t faded. He still loved you in a way he’d never loved anything else and in a way he didn’t think he’d ever love anything else again and he still knew - even at 33 he knew - that it wasn’t going to work. And he couldn’t risk pressing it, not when life was this much better just because you were close.

But what was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to spend the rest of his life trying to pretend that he’d find someone else to feel this way about? Was he supposed to steep himself in this torturous proximity until he lost himself to it? Was he supposed to try to bear finding distance from you - when he couldn’t even last a few days not speaking to you - so he could manage it?

He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he would ever really know.

“Joel?” You stepped back from him, your eyebrows knitted together. “You OK?”

You lifted a hand and pressed the back of it to his cheek.

“M’fine,” he frowned. “Why?”

“You look pale,” you said, moving your hand to the other side of his face. “But you don’t feel warm…”

“Just gettin’ too old for the concert life,” he smiled a little. “Don’t worry about it.”

You took your hand back. He wasn’t sure if it was a kindness or a cruelty.

“Better get used to it if you’re going to start playing again,” you said, facing back toward the stage.

“Yeah,” he said, heart clenching a little. “I’d better.”

You and Sarah got him to dance and he memorized the look on Sarah’s face as the show wound down, all happiness and joy at getting exactly what she wanted.

After a seemingly endless wait for an Eras Tour t-shirt and the traffic jam to leave the parking lot, the three of you made it back to the hotel, Sarah asleep in the back seat. You went to wake her but Joel stopped you.

“I’ve got ‘er,” he said quietly, lifting her delicately from the back seat. She groggily put her arms around his neck and nuzzled into his shoulder and he smiled a little. She might be getting big but at least he could still carry his baby girl to bed.

The two of you tucked her in together before tiptoeing to the bedroom.

“Thank God I talked Sarah out of glitter for me,” you said quietly as you took your makeup off, already in your pajamas in front of the bathroom mirror. Joel tried to resist the urge to trace the curve of your legs and ass with his eyes. “I’ve barely got the energy to take this off…”

“Her hair’s gonna be a nightmare tomorrow,” he said, smiling in spite of himself.

“Yeah, but she loved it,” you looked at him in the mirror. “Worth it.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Worth it.”

When you got in bed, the two of you ditched the pretense of distance that you’d started with the night before. You lay close but not touching, close enough that he could feel the warmth of you under the blankets.

“So,” you said, yawning. “How was your first concert with Sarah?”

“Anything that makes that kid that happy is great in my book,” he smiled a little, his eyes tracing the dark outline of you silhouetted in the dim city light that filtered around the curtains. “Seriously… thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Thanks for letting me be a part of it,” Joel could hear your groggy smile on your voice. “And I had a few Christmases to make up for missing.”

He laughed lightly.

“I missed you, Joel,” you said, sounding so tired he wasn’t sure that you knew you said it.

He was quiet for a moment.

“Missed you too, Goldie. So much.”

You hummed in response before your breaths shifted to the quiet, easy cadence of sleep and Joel drifted off, letting himself savor the closeness of you.

That indulgence, he thought at first, was what sparked the dream.

You were in a hotel room with him in his head, too, but it was different. It was just the two of you and it wasn’t because you had to be. No, you were there for each other.

Joel took his time with you then. He undressed you slowly, his lips trailing over your neck and shoulder as he slid the straps of your bra down your arms. He kissed you the way he wanted to at the concert, holding you to him as his tongue dipped into your mouth and he could smell your shampoo and feel the silk of your skin below his fingers and his cock was painfully swollen. His kiss grew more desperate, desire shifting to necessity. He was drawn hot and tight inside his skin and wanting you was a distant memory now because he was far beyond that. He needed you.

He rutted against the soft warmth beside him, seeking some kind of relief, your body relaxed and pliant against him, your breath hot on his skin and it was the little whimper you made that woke him up.

It was still early, the light coming in from around the edges of the curtains not bright enough for it to be the light of day yet but that didn’t seem to matter, he could see things just fine. You were close and tight against him, his aching cock pressed to your stomach, the root of him against your clit, your pussy so hot he could feel it through your pajamas and his own. Your leg was hitched over his hip and you rocked your hips against his length and your head was tucked below his. He could smell your shampoo and feel the heat of your breath on his neck. He froze against you and you gave a soft, strangled moan.

“Goldie,” he whispered, only then realizing that he was panting for breath. “Think… I think you’re dreamin’, should wake up…”

You didn’t respond. You just moaned, high pitched and needy, and worked your core against his length and Joel worried that he was going to come then and there.

“Goldie,” he said again. HIs voice sounded strangled, like he was choking on the words. “Gotta wake up baby, can’t…”

Your leg tightened on him and your hand found its way to the back of his neck, playing in his curls as you ground yourself against his cock and he thought he might burst if he didn’t find some kind of relief soon and… was it really wrong if you started it? If you were practically fucking him in your sleep, was it so bad to give in to what you wanted?

His resolve weakened, falling into nothing in a matter of seconds. His hands spread over you, one between your shoulder blades, the other cupping the lush globe of your ass and he pressed closer to you, grinding against your hot slit that you kept pressing against him like you wanted him the way he wanted you.

Joel’s hand traveled down your ass and over your thigh, the feeling of your skin below his fingers almost too much when taken with everything else you were offering and fuck he wanted to feel you come. He wanted to bury himself deep inside of you and feel you get lost in your pleasure while wrapped around him. He resisted the urge to at least slip a finger into those wet panties - he knew they’d be wet, knew you’d be fucking dripping - because that, for some reason, was a bridge too far. You hadn’t started that. You had started this.

“Goldie,” he managed again, forgetting all pretense and just fucking his cock against you now. “Need you to wake up…”

You buried your face in his neck and moaned, the motion of your hips picking up for a moment before you pulled your face back from him, eyes open wide and glassy with want and shock. He froze, his hands still on you and his cock still pressed against your core.

“Joel,” you breathed, eyes searching his. “What are we…”

“Want me to stop touchin’ you?” He asked, praying you wouldn’t say yes.

“No,” you whispered. “I… I want…I need… but we… we can’t…”

His heart cracked open at that but he shoved it aside. He could deal with the pain of that later.

“Don’t gotta be anymore than this,” he said quietly. “It’s OK baby, promise. It doesn’t need to mean anything, it’s OK…”

You just nodded quickly and buried your face in his neck again, clutching him close so every line of you was tight to his body, your hips working in earnest against his cock. He moaned at the feel of it, needing to press his mouth into the crown of your head to muffle the sound. He rutted himself against you, his leaking cock making such a mess of his goddamn underwear that it almost felt like he was inside you, the slick of his precome and the heat of your pussy intoxicating.

The two of you rocked against each other like teenagers in heat, terrified of what that next step would mean but too desperate to stop yourselves now. Joel was getting dangerously close to spilling into his pants and was trying to stave off his orgasm, needing to come with you, when you spoke - voice small and hot and needy - from your place tucked against his skin.

“I’m gonna come, Joel,” you panted so quietly, like your pleasure was a secret. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come, I…”

“It’s OK,” he said, holding you a little closer, a little tighter, working his cock against you a little harder. “Just come, it’s OK, I’ve got you, it’s OK, just come for me baby, just come.”

You rutted yourself against him once, twice more before your body seized up and he could feel the throbbing of your pussy against his cock even through the layers of clothing. He closed his eyes and thrust up, letting himself imagine that he was deep inside you and coming there, his orgasm hitting him so hard it made his head spin.

Your body went limp in his hold after as the two of you panted for breath, limbs tangled around each other. He just held you, tight enough to feel close but loose enough that you could pull away when you needed, until you leaned back from him. Your eyes were still wide but more in shock, now, than want.

“Joel,” you whispered. “What did we do?”

He could hear the panic edging into your voice.

“What did we just do?” Your breaths were coming in fearful little pants now and he ignored the pain in his chest as he brushed your hair back soothingly.

“S’OK,” he said softly. “It… it doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s OK. Just… shit happened, it wasn’t anything crazy, it’s OK. It don’t have to be anything it’s not, it’s OK.”

There was a look in your eyes he couldn’t quite place but then you nodded.

“You OK?” Joel asked after a moment.

You held his gaze for a second before you nodded once.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s OK.”

His alarm went off and he scrambled to turn it off, praying that, this time, it really would be OK.

Next Chapter

A/N: I'm going to keep building that tension because I love to torture them apparently.

Don't ask me what my problem is. If I knew, I'd tell you.

Thank you so much for reading about these two idiots! I love them so much. Even if they're idiots.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #halcyon

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jenchan-writingmultis · 2 months

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Twisted Wonderland x Obey Me Crossover

Part Two ⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⊱⊰⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ Part One Part Three

A few reminders: - Yuki is the default name in Obey Me! - NO pairing yet, It will be implied, but not explicitly displayed. - this will be divided into chapters, It will be considered a one-shot/non-series since I'm not doing different Points of view like how I do series. - Updates will be a bit slow - Credits: The line breakers are from Kaomoji dividers and Official Obey Me and Twisted Wonderland art. - Just enjoy! Would love to hear your responses on this fic cause I'm having fun writing it ^^ Masterlist

⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⊱⊰⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯

You were looking worriedly at Yuki, unsure what to do, but you decided that the others would find out eventually, so you couldn’t keep this to yourself forever.

"Sure, why not?"

What?

You didn’t expect this. Crowley seemed to have taken a liking to Lucifer, who seemed uncomfortable under the headmaster's gaze. "They’re demons, right? It’s rare for them to come out of hiding like this! It’s an opportunity to get to know you, Lucifer," he chirped, almost happy to see the man.

You deflated on the couch. Before all of this happened when you tried to call Crowley, who suspiciously answered your call immediately. He then went to visit to see the seven brothers and Yuki. You were expecting retaliation on his part, but the moment he saw Lucifer, he sighed in relief, muttering about good demons visiting instead of the bad ones. Seriously?

"While I'd love to guide everyone around," he says, striking his usual pose that means he's up to something. "I still have a job to do, so Prefect, you don't mind skipping a few lectures, right?" He smiles mischievously.

"What?!" you gasp, glaring at him. "You're not even going to tell the professors about this!"

"Well, if you think it's necessary, I can always tell them,” He says, looking at you with those infuriating puppy eyes. "Come on, you can't leave them alone, can you?"

"If this would bother the Prefect's studies, I'm fine with roaming around alone," Satan interjects, drawing your attention. "I promise I won't cause any trouble," he continues, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "Not sure about them, though."

"Way to throw us under the bus, Satan," Leviathan grumbles, busy trying to pet Grim. "I don't want to go out. I'll just stay here."

"We went to all this effort to bring everyone here, and you won't even try to have fun? Come on, Levi!" Asmodeus whines. "This is a whole new world! I doubt there are video games here that you'll like." As if that would convince Levi, especially when they still had network access from the Devildom.

“No, I didn’t even want to come out of my room! Mammon barged in and dragged me out!” Leviathan pointed at Mammon accusingly, who gasped in offense.

“Excuse you! You were the one who kept ranting to Yuki that you needed more grass to touch!”

“IT’S BECAUSE I LOST A GAME!” Leviathan screeched. At that moment, a pair of black wings smacked both Mammon and Leviathan into silence.

“You are both embarrassing Diavolo’s name,” Lucifer growled, clearly pissed at them.

“It’s okay, it’s quite amusing to see that even demons have quarrels” Crowley mused. This somehow pops a vein in Lucifer’s head, “We are still similar to humans” he corrects, this man seems to think they’re more inhumane than other beings.

“I apologize,” he said crossing his arms. “Since you can keep your brothers on a leash, then I think it’s fine for you to roam around, right?” he asks, as Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “It would be nice if we have a guide for it,” he says, looking at you and Yuki. “The only reason we went here was to find Yuki’s friend, now that we found them, we can rest easy and go out”

"The Prefect is too busy to be a guide," Lucifer adds, "We can take care of ourselves"

Yuki cheers, high-fiving Satan who always wanted to learn more about this peculiar world. “Why don’t we split it?” Crowley suggests, and for some reason, it sounded like split custody between the demon brothers.

“You, Lucifer can go around as they please since I trust you for it" Crowley says which immediately gets interrupted by Lucifer “Why do you trust me so casually?” he asks, bewildered by this man.

“No reason, I just think you won’t cause any trouble, unlike your brothers!” he says bluntly, smiling. “Aren’t I gracious?”

Lucifer huffed but didn’t seem to question it further. “Fine. So you’re saying I bring half of my brothers while the other half keeps an eye on them?” he clarified.

“Oh no, not me!” Crowley interjected, his eyes zeroing in on you. The sudden attention made you jolt. “The Prefect has their daily school activities as I mentioned; it would be great if they could introduce your brothers to the students and establish a connection.”

“Excuse m—!” you began, but Crowley cut you off. What the hell, so he was going to put you back to work? This cruel man!

“A connection?” Lucifer was growing more wary. “What for? We won’t be staying here for long,” he said.

“Which is precisely why connecting with other people is a must!” he says. “Since you’re going to stay here temporarily until Yuki’s homesickness subsides, wouldn’t you want to make the most of it?” he adds, prompting Lucifer to think deeply. Barbatos had mentioned that the portal to another world would likely only open once. He had already informed Yuki that they couldn’t force you to come back with them, especially since Yuki is an exchange student and you are not. Your presence in Devildom might cause disruptions without proper discretion.

His eyebrows knitted as he felt the impending onslaught of a migraine. The process of turning you into an exchange student, the protection you’d need, what would happen if one of his brothers or any demon developed feelings for you? Unlike Yuki, you had no magical prowess to protect you from demons who might desire your human soul.

If he allowed this little trip, you wouldn’t need to come back with them, right? While the thought might be cruel, considering you were the only one who could help Yuki feel better again, the burden of keeping you safe was too great to bear.

“So?” Crowley’s voice snapped him out of his trance. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mammon, Leviathan, and Beelzebub will stay with me,” he said, relenting. “Yuki and the Prefect can take Asmodeus, Satan, and Belphegor with them.”

“Wait, I didn’t consent to this!” you protest, feeling overwhelmed at the thought of managing the demon brothers while studying. Yuki, who seems thrilled to be on the same team as you, pulls you into a hug. “Oh, come on! I’m here! If they cause any trouble, I’ll use my pact on them!” they say confidently, making you sigh in reluctant acceptance.

“I apologize for the random team assignments,” Lucifer says, frown deeply etched in his expression. “I doubt I can keep my cool babysitting my brothers for the next few weeks,” he adds. “But if they cause chaos, I’m sure Yuki can properly discipline them,” he continues, hoping to reassure you.

The other brothers grumble, especially those under Lucifer’s watchful eye, but they fall silent under his glare. Some, however, seem pleased. Asmodeus chatters happily about how he’ll grace the students and you with his beauty, while Satan looks satisfied simply because he isn’t paired with Lucifer.

“Excellent! While you’re here, you can use Ramshackle as your sleeping quarters!” Crowley says, clapping his hands together. “I must be off, but you have fun with your friends, Prefect!” With that, he vanishes in a flurry of black feathers, much like Lucifer’s own. You can’t help but feel like they’re somehow related.

The walk to your class was as awkward as you have guessed, other students kept glancing behind you where the three brothers were, while also staring at Yuki.

What exactly is going on? Crewel looks dumbfounded, staring at three new faces. “I was not informed that there are extra pups coming in” He sighs, tapping the board up front. “Care to explain?” he glances at Prefect who just lets out a huge sigh.

In short, you tried to explain it to the best of your abilities, leaving the fact that they’re literal demons. Crewel, who glanced at Asmodeus, who winked at him, causing him to grip on his black whip. “Fine, this will only be temporary, yes?”

“Yes sir” you droop, glancing behind and already seeing Belphegor and Satan sitting while Asmodeus was chatting with some of the students. Out of every brother, that guy seemed to be the one who’s fitting in with the number of students here. You had begged Crowley to have something tailored for them, but Lucifer stopped you and used his magic to replicate the school uniform that Ace and Deuce were wearing, changing the color of the whole attire to Ramshackle's colors.

"So, they're unofficial students who want to see the school for themselves before enrolling?" Crewel's eyes widened. This was new—they usually never did tours for incoming students. He was suspicious. He looked at the faces of each brother before leaning down to your level and whispering, "They don't look like students. More like teachers."

“Hey! I heard that! I’m a student you know! A pretty one” Asmodeus says, flaunting his pearly white smile while Satan on the other hand thinks that’s a compliment “Thank you” he’d say, ignoring Asmodeus. What a peculiar bunch, Crewel did like the aesthetic of Asmodeus, but maybe he’ll have a chat with these new students later, after class. “Alright listen up.”

You noticed that Satan and Asmodeus seemed unusually attentive during class discussion. While it was no surprise to see Satan's curiosity on display, Asmodeus' focused demeanor was out of character. Then you caught a glimpse of what he was doing: sketching Professor Crewel's face in chibi form, adorned with hearts. Hadn't he just met the guy?

Leaning close to Yuki, who seemed engrossed in the as well, you whispered, “Is Asmodeus always like this during class?”

Yuki snapped out of their concentration, glancing discreetly at Asmodeus. The demon caught the look and flashed a flirtatious smile. “Already falling for me, I see? Can't blame you, lovelies.”

“Well,” Yuki stammered, staring dumbfoundedly. “I guess he really finds Professor Crewel good-looking—”

“Pups at the back, what are you whispering about? It better be about the ingredients I’ve been instructing you to use for the lab experiment later,” Professor Crewel barked, slapping his whip against his hand for emphasis.

You felt a wave of embarrassment as Grim sighed loudly. “Talk later… you’re making the professor noisy,” he grumbled, nudging you to focus back on the lesson. Reluctantly, you and Yuki stopped your hushed conversation, turning your attention back to the front of the classroom. Meanwhile, Lucifer was letting his brothers go around the massive campus, while he knows RAD is big on its own, there was a certain charm that this campus had, the mirrors seemed to have sucked them into some kind of place where the aesthetics were vastly different from one another.

At first, he accidentally got them all stuck in some kind of measly display of… hearts? While he found it pleasing, the color red was standing out too much.

“I’m hungry,” Beelzebub frowned, noticing that, for some reason, the students were dying the roses red.

“Oh! Hey!” Ace called out, waving a dried-up red paintbrush as he walked towards them, searching for the Prefect. “Where’s Prefect?”

“After you left, we decided to split up,” Lucifer stated, looking around. “Can you tell me more about this place?” he asked, intrigued by its design. Ace smiled, placing his hands on his hips as he casually explained that they were in Heartslabyul.

“There are way too many normies here,” Leviathan whined. Meanwhile, Mammon seemed quite pleased; this place reeked of GOLD, and there had to be something he could take.

Ignoring Leviathan's complaining, Lucifer listened to Ace's introduction to this dormitory called "Heartslabyul" “I see… so you will be holding an unbirthday party here?” Lucifer inquired. Ace nodded, but before he could explain further, a sudden shrill scream echoed inside the intricate building.

“Hey, stop! Don’t eat that!” a voice rang out as Beelzebub seemed to have attacked the kitchen.

“I told you we shouldn’t have come here!” Leviathan said, bolting inside as Lucifer had already run in. “Beel!” he growled, grabbing the man with sheer strength. Mammon and Leviathan joined in, blocking Beelzebub’s vision of the food.

Only minutes after their arrival Beelzebub already managed to sneak into the kitchen. “I’m hungry let me go!” he says, trying to squirm off the grip, but three demons could subdue him, and long enough, Trey goes to shove a premade cake in Beelzebub’s mouth enough for him to calm down as Beel started munching on it.

The whole kitchen was a mess, as Trey stares at the mess, “Oh dear” he groans out, feeling a headache coming, Lucifer frowns as he glares at Beelzebub. “I apologize for my brother” he adds, bowing to Trey and the other Heartlabyul students helping him. “It’s fine but, I’m not sure how I can fix all of this, almost more than half of the food was devoured, how could you even do such a thing?” Trey's tone held a hint of annoyance, though he glanced sympathetically at the unfamiliar faces and distinctive uniforms of the visitors. "My brothers can assist with cleaning and cooking," Lucifer offered, attempting to defuse the tension. The two brothers exchanged shocked glances, but Mammon quickly crossed his arms in protest. "No way! It's Beel's fault, not mine!" Leviathan chimed in, shaking his head adamantly. "Yeah, count me out. I didn't do anything!"

"You will help," Lucifer said with a smile that sent a shiver down their spines. "It seems you forgot I'm not the only one babysitting you three. You're old enough to be responsible," he added, causing the others to clamp their mouths shut in uneasy agreement.

“Wah, so scary” a voice came from outside as he walked in, “I didn’t even expect that big guy to sneak in so fast, sorry about that Trey” Cater apologized, while looking at the four brothers. “Who are you peeps?” he asks, crossing his arms while Deuce and Ace go inside as well, eyes widening at the horror the kitchen became. “Lucifer,” he says shortly, “These are my brothers, Beel, Mammon, and Leviathan” “Sup” Mammon notices Cater’s phone before going closer to him “Oh wow that’s a pretty cool design! Can I see?” he asked so suddenly that Cater didn’t have time to react before Mammon grabbed his phone “Cool! I never seen these type of design before, you got a sweet case dude” he chirps, Cater was going to be upset at the sudden lost of his phone but the way Mammon seemed genuine with his compliment he lets it go. “Well it’s great, I bought it from a store online”

And that’s where the two started hitting off, Mammon showing Cater the D.D.D. he has, and Cater being fascinated by the technology itself. “Whoa is this a unique type of phone? Never seen this before” he asks. But once again their conversation got interrupted when Leviathan glared at Mammon. “Hey! Clean up too! I’m not doing this solo!” Mammon rolls his eyes “You can carry that stuff by yourself!”

"‘Mammon!’ Leviathan’s glare intensified. ‘Ugh, fine!’ Mammon grumbled, conceding to his sibling’s persistence. Meanwhile, Cater, observing from the sidelines, couldn’t help but chuckle at their petty squabble. I’ll go back to painting, don’t want riddle to go cray cray now” he said sounding solemn, but before Mammon could leave Cater grabbed his arm. “Oh! But let’s be moots!” he suggested eagerly, pulling out his phone.

Mammon, who had earlier dismissed the idea due to their different phone brands, frowned thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure if his D.D.D could sync with the smartphones here, but perhaps it was worth a try. "Sure, just give me your numbs," he asked casually. As he typed Cater’s phone number, his eyes widened in pleasant surprise—it worked! "Oh, yay! We’re moots now, Mams!" he exclaimed, patting Mammon’s shoulder. "I’ll start sending you memes; you’ll love those."

"Yeah, sure," Mammon replied, scratching his cheek. He was surprised at how easy it was to befriend Cater. "See ya later, Cater," he waved goodbye as he headed back to the kitchen to retrieve the newly arrived boxes of extra confectionery and creams.

Beelzebub stared longingly at Trey as he deftly baked most of the cupcakes, while Lucifer kept a watchful eye to prevent him from pouncing on the treats.

"You bake so well; can I have some?" Beelzebub's hand twitched towards the delectable sweets, but Lucifer promptly smacked it away, resembling a swat at a persistent fly. Trey simply smiled, "It's fine, he can have some. I made extra since he seemed to enjoy them."

"Are you sure?" Lucifer frowned. "You're our guest. Just keep it in moderation," he advised, continuing to beat eggs in a bowl.

"Thank you," Lucifer acknowledged, observing as Beelzebub maintained a moderate pace in eating, quite fascinated.

"You're welcome. Though I haven't seen that color before," Trey remarked, noting the grayish hue of Beelzebub's uniform. "Is that from Ramshackle's? Since when were they admitted here?"

"Oh, this is from Ramshackle's uniforms... I believe the color signifies the dormitory," Lucifer explained, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Yeah, you know your stuff," Trey complimented, impressed by Lucifer's knowledge and demeanor, which reminded him of someone of Riddle's caliber. Bonus: "Where do you think they went?" Solomon mused aloud, his gaze fixed on the still-open portal.

"Should we go after them? I don't want Yuki to get harmed," Luke added, a note of concern evident in his voice as he stared at the swirling portal. He could sense the ominous magic emanating from it, despite the demon brothers' casual entry.

"Why don't we all go visit?" Diavolo's voice broke through their thoughts, causing Solomon and Luke to jolt in surprise. They hadn't expected the prince to arrive so abruptly.

"Well, I doubt that you'll get harmed going in," Solomon replied with a wry smile, crossing his arms with piqued curiosity. "If you go in, Prince Diavolo, and emerge unscathed, we'll follow you."

"That is certainly not going to happen," Barbatos interjected, appearing suddenly with a scowl as he glared at Solomon. "Why are you using Lord Diavolo as a scapegoat?"

"It's fine, Barbatos! I'm curious too! Lucifer went inside, right?" Diavolo said, dismissing Barbatos's concern with a wave. Without a second thought for his safety, he jumped into the portal. "It's your portal anyway! I trust you!"

"Lord Diavolo, wait—" Barbatos's protest was cut short as Diavolo disappeared into the swirling vortex.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #fluff #jen-chan blurbs #twst x reader #twst #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me fandom #obey me satan #obey me lucifer

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sundrop-writes · 5 months

Text

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson

Season One, Episode One: "Titans"

Summary:

You and Dick haven't spoken since the Titans parted ways in San Francisco five years ago.

Even though you used to be as close as two people can be, both of you are doing just fine leading your own separate lives - until your psychic powers cause you to have a vision of the end of the world, and you have to turn to him for help. As much as Dick doesn't want to get involved, you know that him leading The Raven on the path she needs to travel is the only way to stop the terrible fate you saw.

He wants to deny it, and stay as far away from you as possible - but he can't avoid you or the truth that you have told him when he runs into that very Raven you speak of in an interrogation room later that night. He has to face a simple truth he has always known: you're always right.

Dick Grayson x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Bantering/Humor. Set during Season 1, Episode 1.

Word Count: 2,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns (some people might accuse the reader character in this story of being more of an OC and I am okay with that - I try to make all the reader characters in my other stories as blank and open as possible and every now and then I let myself have a little bit of a treat) - but as usual with my stories, the majority of pronouns used in the fic are you/yours; other than clothing style and a scar that informs her backstory, the reader's looks are not described and are left vague (as far as race, body type, hair colour, etc. - those things are not described); the reader character does have powers - I might make a separate post detailing the reader's entire backstory and power set (or I might just let it be spelled out slowly through the chapters) - but for now, I will tell you that the reader character is psychic and can see glimpses of the future in dream-like visions; the reader and Dick are 'exes' - their relationship was never official (they never explicitly called each other boyfriend/girlfriend), but they used to have sex often (and they both have feelings for each other that they never openly spoke about), and they are childhood friends, so there is a lot of emotional history there; mentions of canon-typical violence; this fic does use Y/N; mentions of the reader being shot during a past undescribed incident; there is references to sex and discussions of sex, but no explicit smut (but there might be some later in the story? idk yet); emotionally constipated Dick Grayson; idk what else ? - pining, emotional angst, using humor to deflect emotional tension, banter. I just really like the vibes of this. there is not a lot of big content warnings for this fic (yet).

A/N: Honestly, I am really excited about this one. I have a lot of ideas for future episodes (especially the episode where Dick loses it emotionally and just gets followed around by a hallucination of Bruce for the entire episode - but that's not until Season 2, oop). Titans is one of my favourite series ever - if you couldn't tell - so getting to examine each episode closer and appreciate each individual episode as a unique piece of art while writing this instead of binging a whole season gives me a whole new appreciation for the show. I hope you guys enjoy these as they come out - especially because I do have an idea of where this fic is going, but I don't know where I want these characters to go in Season 4. (I kind of want to do a secret surprise reveal of two of the characters being related and being siblings, but... idk. Sometimes people don't like that.) But this is definitely a good opportunity to send me ideas of where you want this story to go/how you want it to end up. Anyway - please enjoy!!!

....

Dick needed some fucking air.

He could barely fucking handle today. He had to compose himself before he lost it and started breaking things. It was all such a shitshow - the department pushing a new partner on him, footage of Robin all over the news, every other half-cocked beat cop making comments about how Robin was just another masked psychopath who wasn’t that different from The Joker.

Fuck them.

If they only knew what Gotham was like - if only they had to deal with a department full of asshole’s on the Joker’s payroll. If only they had to watch criminals walk away because they made bail on the decision of a corrupt judge. If only they had to sit behind a desk and listen to a mother’s sobs as she begged for him to find her missing child - knowing how many people elbow to elbow with him would laugh at her tears rather than start looking.

If they only spent one night tending to civilians while the smell of burning flesh permeated the air, with the Joker’s screaming laugh stuck in their ears because he thought that bombing a low-income housing complex was just that funny.

Fuck all of them.

Dick clenched his fist tight - his knuckles aching as he resisted the urge to drive his arm right through the glass at the front of the precinct. He just - he really needed some air.

Dick walked out the front doors (rather than smashing the glass), and took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying his best to calm down. It was getting late, and things were relatively slow, even for it being a Tuesday. No influx of late-night chaos yet. He had some time to collect himself before-

“So - Robin’s in Detroit now, huh?”

That voice.

Dick felt the sting of familiarity pluck at his spine, and he whipped his head around at lightning speed, looking in the direction of the voice. Surely enough - you were the one standing there. It hadn’t been some kind of auditory hallucination on his part.

So much for time to calm himself down.

He was immediately met with a confliction - lust and annoyance bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to see you again, he didn’t want you to be here, especially not without warning. But you looked so damn good - it was a distraction from that fact.

That was always the thing about exes, wasn’t it?

(If Dick could even call you his ‘ex’ - the two of you had slept together more times than he could count, both metaphorically and literally, but the two of you had never put an official label on the relationship like he had with Dawn or Barbara. He cared for you like a friend, and like a lover in a way that he was never willing to admit - but did that make you his ex? Especially if he never stopped caring about you?)

That thing about exes being: they always look so fucking good when you see them after a long time of being apart. The universe dangling something in front of you that you’re not allowed to have and technically, should no longer want.

But oh - Dick found himself wanting so very badly. (And he tried his hardest to hide that fact as he continued to carefully stare you down.)

Because you looked so good.

You were wearing something of your usual style - an outfit of many confusing layers that somehow showed off the natural curves of your body and hid you all at the same time.

A long skirt with a ruffled hemline and bold, colorful pattern. A pair of boots that you had probably gotten from some vintage store that were likely older than both you and Dick, leathery and well worn in. Your jacket was much the same - a supple brown leather with a soft fur lining that made you look very warm and cozy.

Topped off with a pair of the largest, gaudiest dangling earrings that Dick had ever seen - the kind that would have gotten snagged on one of his nice shirts and gotten the two of you tangled up during one of your hook-ups. A pair of earrings that he would have scolded you for wearing - but he would have delighted in finding them on his bedroom floor after you left because it meant having a piece of you still with him. And it would mean having an excuse to visit you later because he had something of yours to return.

Those earrings glistened in the light of the street lamps, just as your eyes did while you stared him down with those inquisitive, knowing eyes. Looking at him with that same expression you always wore - the one that seemed to say you knew everything that he never would. It equally fascinated him and infuriated him.

He hated the fact that you had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, causing his heart to race - had you snuck up on him on purpose? Did you find it funny?

“Y/N,” Dick said your name curtly, still feeling a slight twinge of shock that you were standing in front of him at all. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

You let out a dry chuckle, and stepped closer to him, making his whole body stiff. His first instinct was to step backward - to gain more distance from you. But he didn’t want to seem like he was afraid of you - afraid of that closeness. So he forcefully locked his legs and stayed in place as you drifted closer, and you idly conversed back.

“Oh, Dickie.” You sighed in return, using his childhood nickname. “A warm welcome as always.”

Dick rolled his eyes at this. Did he really need to bother with manners and formalities? The two of you had known each other for so long, he guessed that you were both well over stuff like that.

“Do I need a reason to be here? Can’t I just visit an old friend?” You posed, a humorous tone still running through your voice.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he took a more defensive stance. He quickly went from shock then to annoyance.

The two of you were old friends - you had known each other since you were in diapers together. The two of you had grown up together, raised by a unique circus family. And that meant that Dick knew you well enough to know that if you were here, you had a good reason to be.

(If you had wanted to chase him when he first left Gotham, you likely would have camped out in the trunk of his car, or you would have shown up at his new apartment the day after he moved in. You wouldn’t have waited this long to contact him.)

“Do us both a favor and cut the bullshit, please.” Dick replied sternly. “Why are you here?”

“Grumpy.” You sighed, sounding defeated.

He waited for a moment, and surely enough - you folded, now willing to directly explain your reason for showing up in Detroit so suddenly.

“I had a vision.” You explained. “A girl. The Raven. A lot of others consider her to be the eater of worlds, but she is the one who is going to save us all, Dick.”

He let out a harsh puff of air, reaching up and running fingers roughly over his temple. Yup, there it was - the headache had fully set in now. He really didn’t need this. Not tonight.

He had known about your visions for a long time. When he was younger, he had been shocked to find out that you had inherited your mother’s ‘gift’. He previously had no clue that her set-up as a sideshow fortune teller with Tarot cards and a large crystal ball wasn’t all psychology tricks and half-guesses she put on for tourists - but in fact, it was actually something informed by larger supernatural forces at play. And it was something you could do as well.

So he was inclined to believe you when you told him about this vague vision, but he also didn’t want to be involved. He had a lot on his plate right now - he didn’t need this.

“Look, I’m sure that whatever you saw was important, but-” He began.

You sighed and shook your head harshly at this ‘but’.

“Why don’t you just take it to New York instead? This kind of thing is way more Donna’s speed, anyway. I’m sure she can help you find this girl, and-”

“That won’t help.” You told him. “The girl is already on her way here.”

You spoke the words with such utter certainty, and it sent shivers up Dick’s spine. The calm, tranquil look on your face - the ominous wiseness you held: it reminded Dick so much of your mother. The other-worldly authority she held that had ultimately gotten her killed. It was strangely creepy.

“Just so you know, I hate it when you say ominous shit like that.” Dick told you, gesturing to your person with stiff offense in his body. “Just because your mother played the creepy voodoo witch for tourists doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I’m not playing.” You replied, exasperated.

You knew that Dick could be frightened of your powers at times. He was someone very logic-based - he built his beliefs around facts. So having you follow your visions and your ‘gut feelings’ when they were never concrete, changing on a dime - he hated the uncertainty and chaos that came with it all. But you had learned to trust yourself and your feelings over time, even if he didn’t.

“And you know, you’re involved in this whether you want to be or not.” You told him, trying to get the conversation back on track. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Robin made his first appearance in months last night.”

Dick became stiff at this, and quickly glanced around - as though waiting for someone to appear out of nowhere and point an accusing finger at him, screaming out that he was Robin and he had been caught.

“You can’t help it, Dick Grasyon.” You declared with intense certainty. “You need to save people, you need to feel like you’re making a difference, you-”

“So what, now you expect me to save the whole fucking world?” Dick snapped back.

“She does.” You corrected.

“Who?” He replied - confused and once again annoyed at your mysticism and bold confidence in your visions.

“The Raven.” You told him. “She needs you. And whether you like it or not, you need her.”

You shifted your stance then, waiting for him to tell you that you were right - which was how most of your arguments ended.

But then, as a sick reminder, the lapel of your jacket opened enough for Dick to get a glance at your chest. The neckline of your blouse was wide open, but his eyes weren’t drawn to your cleavage - instead, he became focused on a large scar that you had sitting over your heart. A place where a bullet had ripped through you, leaving you barely alive.

He still remembered the feeling of your blood warm under his hands while you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, begging him to save you. He remembered sitting at your bedside, believing that you would never wake up again.

He couldn’t help but to reach up and gently skim his thumb across the roughness of the scarred skin as he glared at it with a stiff jaw. The touch sent shivers through you - it was the first time he had touched you since that last night in Gotham, when you had woken up to an empty bed and absolutely no explanation as to where he had gone.

Dick felt rage boil inside of him.

How could you ask him to save the world when he had been responsible for this?

This - this was why he was no fucking savior.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said, choking on the words slightly as he took his hand down, shoving it back into his pocket once again. He had to avoid the temptation of touching you any further.

If you weren’t safe around him, why would some little girl from your visions be?

“This isn’t about me.” You scoffed. “Or-”

‘Or us.’

You held back, knowing how dangerous it was to mention the royal Us around flighty Dick Grayson. For a bird without wings, he was absolutely capable of taking off in a quick moment when he wanted to.

“This is about something so much bigger.” You pressed. “She’ll be here soon.”

Dick let out another strained sigh at you using such ominous words again.

“Well, next time you’re gonna come here and be all ominous and creepy, you should at least bring some coffee.” He told you, sarcasm tight on his lips.

You made a mocking face in return.

“Well, you could be more polite.” You scoffed.

Before Dick could recommend that the two of you go and get a coffee in order to truly catch up, someone called out his name, drawing his attention away from you for a moment.

“Hey, Grayson!” Someone called, sticking their head out the front door. “Prentiss is looking for you!”

When he turned back, you were gone. He tried not to linger on it too much - how creepy it was. You were silent and quick like a ghost - he thought that your ominous jewelry might jingle like a house cat’s bell.

But - he would call you later. Hopefully you still had the same number.

…

Dick walked into the interrogation room, trying to clear his mind of the interaction with you. When he saw a small, scared girl, he thought it best to lighten the mood with a joke.

“Hi, I’m Detective Grayson.” He said, introducing himself. “I hear you like to play baseball with bricks and cop cars. You wanna tell me what happened?”

“You’re him.” She said, whimpering and tearful. “You’re the boy from the Circus.”

At first, Dick thought that everyone was simply being ominous and creepy today. But then he realized:

‘Oh fuck. You were right.’

...

A/N: Please do not ask me when this fic will be updated - this fic does not have a schedule.

While this is technically the first chapter in a 'series', each chapter is meant to be enjoyed on its own. The overarching plot of the series is still that of the original Titans show, and I won't be making any major changes to the canon of the show - I just intend to showcase smaller emotional moments between the reader character and the canon characters. This is something I want to work on casually in the background between working on other things. This fic is not my main focus, and I will not be rushing to update it or complete it.

Comments and reblogs are encouraged, and I am thankful for them - but please keep those comments focused on the actual content of the series (it's plot, the characters, their dynamics, etc.). Please do not spam me asking me to update this or asking me when I will update this - because I am not in a rush to do so. I have a lot of ideas for this series that I am excited about, but I want to work on it slowly and casually because I don't want to lose my enthusiasm for it and I know that rushing will take that enthusiasm away.

If you enjoyed this - great, thanks. But if you expect this to be updated weekly like a factory pumping out stuff on a clearly outlined schedule - then you are in the wrong place. If you are expecting constant updates of this fic and you will be disappointed if it doesn't get updated regularly - you should just block me now and pretend you didn't read it. But if you are a patient person - feel free to read and enjoy my other Titans works while I am working on updates for this (and working on other exciting things), and feel free to send me a message telling me what you thought of this fic or other fics in general.

Also - if you can't get Dick Grayson off your mind - my requests are open.

#sundrop writes #dc titans #titans fanfiction #dc titans fanfiction #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #titans x you #titans x reader #bat boys x reader

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eddiernunson · 1 year

Text

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 10k

Warnings; degradation/praise, deep throating, eating out, edging

Author's note: Hope you don't mind but I made the reader both a swifitie and team Edward this chapter. I do appreciate all the love I've gotten for this fic. Here's part 3!

The general reaction you’ve received over the last two weeks was Are you out of your mind?

While Bethany heard you out on how it happened and why it felt like a sigh of relief being with Eddie, your mom lost her damn mind. As you spoke to her, you did your best to have a civil conversation until it just ended up being her lecturing you over the speaker while you finished up cleaning the dishes.

When she realizes you haven’t responded in a while and asks if you're still there, you pick up the phone from the window ledge and unmute yourself. “Mom, seems like you’re not interested in what I have to say about this, only about how it looks. Until you’re ready to listen, I’ll let you go.” Your finger hits the red hang up button, noting the time to the call being 45 minutes. You told her the situation about five minutes in and ever since, she had spent her time venting about Eddie and how irresponsible you were, as if she hadn't listened to anything you had to say about it.

“Are you sure you really thought this through?” Skyler, your roommate asks you as she brings her bowl over to you.

You huff, grabbing it from her and soaking it in the hot soapy water. “Thought what through?”

“You and him. Long term.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “Who said anything about this being long term? What if it’s just for now?”

“Is it just for now? Because you went into it with Dylan claiming all you wanted was someone to commit to you.” She pauses, and you look her in the eyes as if to say get on with it. “When you had someone fully committed, someone willing to stay in it for the long haul, you left him.”

“I didn’t get scared of his commitment, Sky!” You exclaimed, a little thrown off by it.

“Really? Because you were so eager to introduce him to literally anyone?” Skyler throws at you, and she had a point. Your hesitation in meeting Eddie had everything to do with the fact that Dylan was more committed to your relationship than you were.

You were literally every guy you had hooked up with before Dylan, getting angry that he would act like a boyfriend except for the life long stuff.

Fuck. What a hypocrite you were.

“Fine, his commitment scared me a bit.” You admit, washing one last dish before draining the sink. “But it’s not why I left him.”

“For his dad.”

You sigh, eyebrows raised at her tone. “Yes, for his dad.”

“Have you considered that when you’re his age, he’ll be in his 60s?”

“So?” You ask her, moving to the couch in the living room.

“That’s not a relationship built to last.”

“Why can’t that be up to us to decide?” You ask her, wrapping the throw blanket around you and tucking yourself into the couch. “Look, I get your concern. I truly do. From the outside, me and Dylan were doing everything right. Having adventures, going Instagram official. Then we were meeting the families, getting comfortable.” You pause, rubbing your hair out of your face. “If I was 19/20, I would completely understand. I mean, I wouldn’t, but if that were the scenario, your concern would make sense. But I’m not. I’m 25. My frontal lobe is fully developed. I know that if I get together with Eddie then he’ll always be 20 years older than me. He’ll always have a different perspective on life than I do.”

“You’ll always be tied to Dylan.” She points out.

“We dated for six weeks.” You counter, a pinch appearing between your brows. “While we haven’t discussed our long term goals, I don’t see this being casual. It’s different with him. Nothing feels off about being with him. I’ve never felt safer.”

She pauses, assessing your face and the way you relax as you start talking about Eddie. “Fuck. You’ve never seemed this relaxed when talking about Dylan. Not once.”

“I wasn’t.”

The comfort of Eddie’s chest breathing in and out underneath you as you lie right on top of him on the living room couch was soothing as you watched Twilight together. It took some convincing, but he let you press play on it and smirked over your shoulder at the blue filter.

No one had ever told him that the soundtrack was so good, though.

It was maybe a half hour into the movie, and Eddie couldn’t figure out why every guy in her school just had to have her. The smile on your face as you settled into a comfort movie was worth the watch, though.

You had texted him a few days prior, Eddie having given you his number before dropping you off at your apartment to face the real world. He was due back at his shop, having to settle management bullshit and deal with an unhappy customer or two to settle their complaints over the new apprentice. Ownership was nice, when they knew how to do their job.

When can I see you next?

When the six words lit up his screen, Eddie wanted to tell you to drive on over to his shop. He wanted to get in his truck and drive over to wherever the hell you are so he could text back Right Now. He knew your words were calculated, something not to seem too desperate to see him next, but truth be told, even if you were desperate it wouldn’t have made any difference; he was already hooked on you. He texted back to tell you the following Saturday, a day he knew he had no plans for the following day, so you could spend the night.

He felt fucking crazy for thinking it, but now that he'd had you in his bed, it felt too big without you.

Now here you lay with him, he sat in the corner of his couch while you snuggle up to him, and he could stay like this for hours, the sweet shampoo in his nose and the sound of your breaths comforting. He feels you slowly relax into him, all your body losing its tension. Occasionally, your arm would tighten around his torso or you would dig into him deeper. He appreciates the feeling, rubbing his fingers delicately along your skin.

The front door opens, and he feels you tense up as Dylan makes his way in. “Oh, great.” He mutters, and turns around to head straight up the stairs.

Your body jerks to watch him, and your eyes catch Eddie’s for a moment. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie nods, seeing the fixed line your mouth made. He leans in to kiss you, an act of care more than anything else. You lean into it, your eyes closing automatically, breath hitching. “I’ll be here.”

The length up the stairs seemed to grow as you reached the top, this act something you have been dreading for days. Having told Bethany and Skyler about Eddie, they both felt bad for Dylan. In fact, your shitty attempt at an apology was met with a smack on the head with a nearby scrap paper by Sky. You knew Dylan deserved better. Fuck, did you know that.

Here you stand in front of his door, sounds of a tv show on in the background while he presumably plays on his computer. Dylan was more the type to create joy out of finding a new favourite hiking trail or to take an archery class, but Eddie has said he’s been cooped up in his room. He goes to work, comes home and says barely two words before retreating upstairs.

Not like you blamed him for it.

Before you could hesitate any longer, you finally knock on his door. The sounds of his keys stop, and you barely hear the footsteps towards the door over your own heartbeat. The door opens to Dylan, and the disappointment when he sees you is evident, his face hardening. “What?”

“Can I come in?”

He seems to think on this, and you hope the outfit you have chosen, jeans with an oversized sweatshirt and your hair in a messy bun helps with the psychology of it, but when it came down to it, it was his decision. “…Sure.” You light up in surprise, having expected to do the apologizing in his door frame. You follow him in, and it’s an awkward moment of silence before he goes to sit in his desk chair. “Have a seat, I guess.”

Your butt hits the edge of the bed, barely scraping the box spring. “Would it be cheesy if I recommended you listened to Speak Now, track 3?”

His eyebrows furrow, and it’s so like you to recommend a fucking Taylor song for the scenario. He has to laugh. “Taylor’s Version?”

“Of course.”

“Which is…?”

“Back To December.”

He tilts his head, this situation incredibly peculiar. “Remind me how that goes?”

A smile reaches your face, and you look at your lap sheepishly.

“She apologizes…and clearly admits she was in the wrong after a person treats her very well and didn’t deserve it.” You pause, looking up at him.

“A little bit.” He admits, but the first wall is down. The look in his eye when he sees you doesn’t scream rage.

“I can’t express how sorry I am for hurting you the way I did.” You start, watching for his reaction. “First, for stringing you along… But, you were the best looking guy at that mixer, and at that moment in time I truly did want to know you. None of that was fake.” He nods, considering this. “Then it started to feel, I don’t know, comfortable. I had people telling me how lucky I was to have you, daily, and with the men out there, god they were so right.” You gulp, and he can’t seem to look you in the eye. “I felt like there must’ve been something wrong with me not to be head over heels for you, cause there wasn’t anything wrong with you.”

“When did you know you wanted to break up with me?”

“I can’t say for sure.” You tell him, and it was probably about two weeks ago, but that felt cruel. “But the moment we got back into your car I should’ve ended things.”

“You knew about him that fast, huh?” He asks you, his eyes appearing glossy. “You know, if you would’ve been honest I would have been absolutely choked, confused even, but I would have given you his number.”

You nod, because of fucking course Dylan would’ve been nice enough. “See, you’re so kind because that never occurred to me. I thought you would’ve dropped me off at home.”

“Probably.” Dylan admits, thinking about the possibilities if you’d broken up with him earlier. “Maybe not.”

“I’m so sorry for cheating on you, though. Of course, knowing your mom’s history shouldn’t have made a difference but—”

“Yeah. Kind of fucked me up.” Dylan leans back in his chair, and a smile reaches his face as he looks back to you.

“I know that if me and Eddie keep dating that I could never, ever even remotely be a parental figure, and frankly I’m not looking to be your mom, but I hope one day you can trust me again.”

“See, how do I know you won’t do the same thing to him?”

It hurt, but it was fair. “You made me feel safe. But your dad—” he cringes, “Eddie, he makes me feel free.”

Dylan turns around in his chair, considering this. “I believe that.”

“Wait, you do?”

“Yeah. When I walked in today sure, I was annoyed. Seeing my ex girlfriend in a new happy relationship with the person she cheated on me with is kind of annoying. But you were never that comfortable with me. That look of…contentment. I’ve never seen it before.” He sighs, doing another turn in his chair.

“Have you and your dad spoken about it?”

“No. I’m pretty fucking mad at him. I’ll forgive him, one day. If you’re sticking around, I'll have to, because I’m not staying with my mom and her new perfect family. But we dated for six weeks. I was only starting to think I was falling in love with you. Thank god I never got there. Even then.”

“Don’t put all the blame on him.” You jump to his defense, and wow, did this sound bad. “I made the first move.”

“Good to know.” He pauses. “That’s all I want to know, for the record. No more details… I've heard enough.”

“I am sorry, though Dylan. In another universe, we date and I let you down properly and you meet your dad’s girlfriend a few weeks later who turns out to be your ex.” You laugh, just picturing it.

“Sounds like a rom com.”

“Honestly it’s an intriguing concept.” You get up from his bed, the conversation having met its end.

“I can’t forgive you, yet. But that was the fucking apology I deserved the first time.”

You cringe at it, this memory is something you can already see haunting you at 3am.

“Can we pretend like that one never happened?”

“No. It’s great material to have in a back pocket. Who apologizes to their ex with brand new hickeys on their neck?"

“Okay, point taken!” You yell at him as you walk out the door.

“Bye.” He calls out, and the door shuts behind you.

You meet Eddie back at the couch, the movie paused while he scrolls through his phone. “What are you scrolling on?” You tease him, sitting easily back where you were before.

“Oh the uh, Facebook videos.” He says off-handedly, and you roll your eyes. “What?”

“Who uses Facebook nowadays?” You joke, knowing full you still updated yours occasionally.

He chuckles, nipping at your shoulder. You grab the remote by his leg, pressing play. “How did it go?”

“Better.” You sigh, watching Bella awkwardly ask him to hang out at the beach. “Much, much better. Doesn’t scream pure hatred in his face every time he looks at me anymore.”

“Makes one of us.” Eddie jokes, and you grab his hand to place a kiss, comforting him.

The movie continues, and Eddie has never fully paid attention to the movie before, having come out in his late 20s. It was ridiculous, to say the least. The plot thickens as Bella discovers his true nature and Eddie can't help but notice a particular smile creep on your face as Edward mutters something about a lion falling in love with a lamb. Creepy.

“Do-do you have a crush on Edward?” He asks, his voice particularly bewildered.

Your eyes bug out, and you bite back the smile breaking out on your face with much failure.

“What? No.”

“Oh, you totally do.” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head.

“Shut up.”

Another five minutes pass and your stomach rumbles, prompting Eddie to get up and walk to the kitchen to make you something. “Want something with chicken, rice, spice, what do you want, baby?” He calls out, and you now stare openly at the tv as the baseball scene is showing, and you’ve always considered Edward just to be a bit extra hot in this scene.

His question takes a moment to register. “Butter chicken?” You ask him.

He peeks his head out to the music on the screen, and immediately sees the look on your face. A big smile is plastered on your face, chin resting on your fingertips as you sit cross legged. Fucking. Teenage Vampires. He rolls his eyes, rejecting the jealousy. He isn't going to be jealous over this. Nope.

He finishes the food, putting a bowl out for you, Dylan, and himself out. “Dylan! Food if you want it!” He calls out, and he brings two of the bowls for you and him, the smell of his cooking more than welcome. “Here baby.” He kisses your forehead, sitting next to you as you take a big inhale.

“Holy shit, thank you, Ed.” You tell him, and Eddie is perplexed at your ability to forget to eat a single thing until the hunger pains kick in. He supposes his food habits at 25 weren’t the greatest, either. Now that he thinks about it, he pretty much lived off energy drinks, coffee, and the occasional hot food Wayne would force down his throat.

You inhale the food, the empty bowl on the coffee table within minutes. “Want more?” You’re hypnotized by the screen, having barely heard him. Why did he want to fight a seventeen-year-old vampire? “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“Want more?”

“Oh sure! Thank you.” The shine in your eyes brightens up as you look up at him, and it settles his jealousy. For the most part.

Eddie scoops himself and you another bowl, seeing Dylan hasn’t grabbed his yet. “Dylan! Food’s getting cold! Come eat!”

Dylan comes out, actually looking like he was in a better mood than he was before.

“Oh, shit, Twilight?” He comments, shaking his head. “She’s a hard Team Edward girl. Hard.”

“I’ve noticed. Here.” Eddie would’ve usually taken the win from his son joking with him but the jealousy that sat eating his gut was so fucking annoying. Why the fuck was he so annoyed at this stupid vampire?

“Oh it's not so fun now, is it?” Dylan calls out, running back up the stairs.

This makes Eddie smile, like things might go back to normal. The screaming match with him after you had left made him believe he truly severed his relationship with him, but this gave him an inch of hope.

Eddie gives you the second serving and you tear through it again, leaving the bowl in front of you empty. As Eddie finishes his own, he starts to lean into you, placing delicate kisses on the little exposed skin you provided for him today. He moves you so you’re lying on top of him.

The movie is about to end, Bella waking up in a hospital with frankly, an off-putting delivery of the lines she was given. His hands make their way up past the hem of your sweater, reaching to touch some skin as he continues. A pinch makes its way in between your eyebrows down at him. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to touch you.” You don't believe him, but you also don't mind the touches, as they were certainly doing their job as far as foreplay goes, so you lean back into him. Just when Eddie thought the end was near there’s a whole-ass prom scene and he nearly groans in frustration. Your legs intertwine with his, and he gets a sneaky idea, peering over your shoulder to move his leg over the teensiest bit.

He moves his leg as if he was lifting one leg to rest on its foot. He moves it a bit faster than necessary, aiming for where your ass sat lower than normal on his body.

As his knee jerks into your cunt, you gasp, a heat having already gathered from the movie alone, his teasing doing nothing to help.

“Shit, sorry baby. Was just trying to move my leg.” One look at his face tells you it was a bold-faced lie and you give him an exasperated look. “What?” A series of shots that didn’t make the movie at the end show and Eddie rolls his eyes. “Prick.” He mutters under his breath to an image of Edward on the screen.

“What was that?” You ask him, unsure you even heard him right. “Eddie, were you jealous?” You ask incredulously, the very idea of it is just bizarre.

“What? No!” Eddie dismisses it far too quickly, but the satisfaction as he turns the tv off is too much to deny.

“Eddie! He’s a fictional character. You do realize you share the same name, right?” Eddie rolls his eyes, slightly ticked off he let himself get caught being jealous. You crawl up to his face, the knee against your cunt having left a throb of more want. “Besides, there’s nothing to be jealous of.” You lean in to kiss him, still lying on top of him. As you tilt your head to deepen it, Eddie feels weak as your tongue meets his own and the way you’re gasping into his open mouth is filthy. “Nothing.” You emphasize, biting on his bottom lip.

Eddie bites back a moan, his eyes rolling back as your teeth linger. You frame his face, kissing along the path of his stubble, his gorgeous jaw line, his freckled neck, the dip of his collarbone.

You pause, taking a quick pause to suck on the collarbone lightly, biting into it to make one little claim of your own. You sit back on it, admiring the way it's already started to bruise. You continue, your hand absentmindedly moving his shirt up his torso so you could kiss your way down. You lick across a nipple, and his chest stunts in response. Down his torso you go until you meet the treasure of all treasure trails. You pause, inhaling at the scent, and the musk intoxicates you so much that you can’t help yourself, licking at it. Fuck.

Finally, you get to his jean waistband, and you tug twice, making sure it's okay. Eddie moves to unbutton it for you, and you swat him away. “I wanna do it.” You tell him, picking up where he left off. You tug the jeans off, your fingers hooked meticulously so his boxers come off with them.

His cock springs free and you look up to his face. By now Eddie has lost all clear thought, and he’s sure it started the moment you started working on his collarbone. Somehow it just got better and better as you went further down, every touch of your tongue against his skin sending fucking waves through him. But the look of…elation that you give him as you free his cock, like you couldn’t believe you get to be so lucky to suck on it, had him in pure ecstasy.

You leaned in to take a long swipe on it, a slow lick from the base to the tip, and his cock is nearly down your throat before he could even register it. Relentlessly, you bob your head, fist gripping what you can't fit. You hear him swear loudly, and you let go with a popping sound. His hand finds its way to your face, framing it. You peer up at him, and his half opened eyes and a disbelieving smile gives you an unmatched sense of pride.

“Holy shit.” He mutters, his thumb crossing your bottom lip slowly.

You smile, lifting his hand from your face and into your hair, curling your fist over his so he would grip it tightly. You go back to work, mouth watering as you continue to bob up and down. Eddie slowly starts pushing on your head, forcing you to take a little bit more of him at a time. Your gag reflex fights it, and he can feel it.

“Relax your throat baby.” He whispers. “Just relax it.” You think about it, letting the tense muscles of your jaw and attempting to swallow the spit to soften. He can feel a shift, his cock still in the heat of your mouth. “Oh, good girl.”

He thrusts his hips up, and his cock finds itself down your throat, a feat you’ve never been able to accomplish before. The base of his cock meets your nose, and he stops, watching you adjust as tears come to your eyes from the stinging. “Holy shit, good fucking girl.” He mumbles, sweeping his hand through your hair. “So good.”

He pulls on your scalp so you move up and back down a few times, and you find it impossibly easy to submit yourself to him, allowing him to fuck your throat.

Eddie guides you off his cock, you look up at him for his appraisal and he frames your face to wonder how he was so lucky as he looks at your cocked-out eyes. “Oh, what a good little slut.” He mutters, pulling you up to his face.

You crawl up eagerly, and he kisses you gently, not chaste, but not quite as dirty as before. He breaks away, still connecting your foreheads. “Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”

You nod readily; lust filled eyes staring back into his. You wait patiently for him to put his jeans back over on his cock and make your way back up the stairs to his room.

As soon as his door is shut Eddie rids himself of his clothes, and you end up watching from his bed eagerly, enjoying the show. He dives onto the bed, and a squeal of giggles involuntarily leaves your throat at the wild eyes captivating his face. He dives down to kiss you, his tongue delicious against your own and he sucks on it, luring a whimper right out of you. One of his hands rubs against your thigh, and this pair of pants wasn’t something he could feel you up through. Eddie’s thumb messaged extra rough, and the touch alone manages more whimpers.

“Touch me.” You choke out, breathing heavily, breathing him. “Please.”

Eddie grins, both his hands working down to unbutton the tight jeans you wore. A hand slips in and starts to tease along the slick of your folds and your breath hitches as Eddie focuses on making you feel good. He rubs them in small circles, the touch light but enough to give you release. You can tell he isn't necessarily driving you towards an orgasm and it drives a laugh of impatience out of you against his lips.

“Baby” You whine, “Fuck.” You couldn’t even put words to it, because somehow you knew he’d find a way to twist it.

Eddie leans into your neck, the heat of his cruel laughter closing your eyes. “Oh, you wanted me to touch you and get off? Well why didn’t you say so?”

The pressure increases, a defined difference in his touch as he rubs against your clit, and the sounds he draws from you was worth the tease. He hikes your oversized sweater up, revealing skin and your bra, and as his fingers move absentmindedly he kisses your stomach with light tongue, the wet warmth sending shivers up your body as the feeling in your tummy starts to pool.

He sits up suddenly, and you whimper from the loss. He chuckles at this, pride in how pathetic he can make you feel. “Aww, poor baby.” He mocks you, and your eyebrows furrow in slight embarrassment. “It’s okay, I know you just wanna cum…gonna get you to cum all over my face.” His hands tug on your jeans, and he barely needs any help from you to yank them off, unceremoniously throwing them onto the floor. “Oh, fuck, finally.” He mutters as he sees your pussy, prettier than he remembered when he jacked himself off in the shower this morning.

He leans in, sucking on your clit and the heat expands from it into your legs and the feeling in your stomach doubles. From no release to every bit, you could already feel the knot threatening to snap. “Holy shit, fuck.” You mutter, your thighs clamping against him.

He feels the intensity in your body shift, continuing to suck on your clit rhythmically. Your breathing increases, and Eddie slowly sucks harder, and harder, and as your heels dig in his upper back, he stops.

An audible whine leaves you, the edge just right there. “Fuck, Ed.” You whimper, somehow knowing it was on purpose.

He chuckles, watching your beautiful cunt react as well. “I know, baby, I know.”

“I was so close.”

“Imagine how good it’ll feel when you do cum, yeah?” He teases, still watching your face. Your leg muscles spasm and the kisses he trails down your thigh are no help.

You whine again, toes curling and the extra fabric of your sweater self consciously curls up around your fists. “Ed.”

“I know.” He says one last time, and goes in for the kill.

There was really no delay this time, the edge was only a step away and he pushed you over, his fingers fucking into you and tongue working over time on your clit, a heat into an explosion as your legs shake and pussy spasms. Eddie pays close attention to it, admiring the glisten of your slick coating you, dripping to your ass and on his sheets and it's a piece of art.

Eddie kisses one last time against your clit, crawling back up to you to assess. “Sweetheart?”

You smile lazily at him, the orgasm having left a smile on your face and a glow amongst your features. “Hmm?”

“Wanna fuck still?” He asks, his hand petting your face softly.

Your eyes fucking light up, nodding enthusiastically. He chuckles, moving the sweater slowly up and over your head. He moves around your torso, single handedly unhooking your bra, revealing those gorgeous tits.

He looks like heaven above you, a shadow of stubble, brown eyes darkened as he takes you in, and the lust in his eyes sends a pool of wetness between your legs. Your legs open, and he sits himself between them, kissing the nearest skin he can as he puts his cock into you.

Your legs close on the feeling, mouth falling open in a silent moan. God, what a sight.

You sleepily look up at him as he puts his chest on yours, just drinking in the moment of him in you. He does the same, your hands framing his face.

He kisses you, slow and sweet. “So, so, good, Ed.” You manage out between them, sighing up at him.

He moves back a bit, thrusting into you lightly and you whimper into his mouth. He separates himself to get a good look as he continually fucks into you, and your mouth is open in unspoken words. Too fucking good.

“I know baby, I know.” He tells you. He kisses your neck, down your throat and down to a tit bouncing lightly from the impact of his cock fucking into you. He latches his tongue onto the nipple, your pussy tightening around him in response. He grazes his teeth lightly, mewls leaving your throat at the sheer pleasure mixed with pain and he lets go.

He leans up from you, taking one of your legs and placing it against his shoulder up towards the ceiling and you can feel him deeper, his thrusts starting to hit harder. Your moans are interrupted by each thrust. “Ed. So. Good. Fuck.”

His hand gently caresses your leg on his shoulder, focusing on the warmth of your pussy engulfing him. “Oh, tight pussy. So fuckable.”

“Yours.” You whine out.

“Oh, that’s right. My pussy.”

“All yours.” You choke out.

“Oh that’s fuckin right. You’re mine. All mine. My good fuckable slut.”

The words hit the right spot, making your eyes roll back. “Fuck, Ed. Cum in me.”

“Yeah, wanna be filled with me?"

“Mmhmm…”

“Oh fuck.” Eddie reaches his high faster than he was expecting, his hips jerking into you and the feeling of his cock pulsating while it spurts inside you is everything.

Eddie pants, lightly pushing your leg off his chest. He leans forward to give you a kiss, his body covered in sweat, the slick smell being something you need to memorize. “Holy shit, sweetheart."

You giggle, your legs holding him there. “Stay a while?”

“Love to cockwarm, huh, baby?”

“Only with you,” You mutter, a yawn leaving you. And if it was anything like the first time, you’ll be asleep within minutes. “So full.”

He chuckles, turning on the tv next to his bed. He tugs the blanket out from under you and pulls it over the two of you. You snuggle into his arms as he wraps them around you. “You know, we can cuddle without—” Eddie starts.

“No, no. That’s crazy talk.” You interrupt him, and he feels a smile up against his chest.

As you fall asleep, you hear one last thing from him, something you don’t think you were supposed to hear. “Beat that, you sparkly fucker.”

Somehow, the power of making Eddie jealous over a fictional vampire didn’t go straight to your head, but goddamn it felt good to be this wanted.

The tickle of the sheet against your abdomen comes to mind as you wake up on your side, calf in between Eddie’s legs and your face buried in his chest. His snoring is gentle but deep, his arm lazily wrapped around you. You figure he eventually got himself out of you, the subtle loss something you probably whined at.

You feel a smile creep its way onto your face, the satisfaction of waking up how you did fills your lungs with air. You peer your head back to get a look at his face, relaxed and unguarded, even from sex. Your eyes take in every detail of his handsome face, the slight hook of his nose, the stray hairs by his left eyebrow, the freckles scattered… God, he is beautiful.

You lean in to kiss his jawline, nuzzling your nose into the scratch of his stubble. The arm around your torso flexes, a snore interrupted. A huff of laughter escapes you, the simplicity of it just so mesmerizing. He shifts slightly, arm tightening around you as he adjusts himself. You cuddle yourself closer into his chest, inhaling the scent that was unmistakably him. No cologne, deodorant or aftershave disguising it. The smell alone makes you shudder in happiness.

You lay breathing him in for another thirty minutes before he finally stirs awake.

When he finally does, eyes squinting around as he blinks awake, arms flexing away as he yawns and stretches, you lay there patiently as he gets his bearings.

“Fuck.” His arms go limp, and he buries himself into your hair, breathing in the scent. “How long—” he yawns, cutting himself off. “How long have you been awake?”

Your shoulders shrug, and he huffs out a breath of laughter. He feels your stomach grumble against his. “Long enough, huh.” He kisses into your hair, giving you one last good squeeze. “Alright, let’s go get some food.”

You protest getting out of bed with him but the second growl your stomach makes, this one even more audible, has Eddie give a look to say it wasn’t debatable. Food first.

Down the stairs, you sit in a pair of shorts with the same over sized sweater at the kitchen island, chewing happily on the food Eddie prepared for you, a fucking snack tray. He put it in front of you, and you look up at him with an eyebrow raised peculiarly. “I fucking love snacks.” He says, grabbing a slice of cheese off your tray.

Dylan jogs into the kitchen, stealing a cracker off your plate as he dashes around the counter. “Going out with friends, be back later.” He looks dressed up for a bar, an outfit you knew he would wear to impress. It's a weird thought that you know him like this.

“Don’t be stupid, don’t drink and drive.” Eddie tells him, leaning forward on the island.

“Got it!”

“Was that good or bad, I couldn’t tell.” You ask him when the front door closes.

“I wouldn’t go towards either. He’s being civil for the sake of you but he’s much more pissed when you’re not here. Trust me.” Eddie answers you, eyes wide at the end of the sentence.

A pang of guilt hits you square in the chest. He sees your expression falter, giving you a soft look. “Don’t feel guilty. I deserve it. He damn well has a right to act this way when I betrayed him.”

Fuck, that was a level of emotional maturity you weren’t used to seeing in men. Threw you for a loop.

“So, sweetheart. I got a question for you.” You perk up, leaning towards him at the opposite end of the island counter. “Will you allow me to take you out on a proper date?”

The sentence drives your heart wild, your stomach turning itself inside out. You nod your head rapidly, gulping. “When?”

“Well it’s four o’clock now…if I drive you home so you can get ready we could probably make our 7 o’clock reservation.”

Now you find yourself in your bathroom, your makeup scattered across the counter as you dance to an upbeat playlist, your quick glance to the clock indicating you still have an hour before he comes to pick you up at 6:45.

You're driving yourself mad with the want to outdo yourself, you want a visual reaction from this man. He was kind enough to let you know it was more upscale, but that was all the detail he was willing to provide to you. You knew your initial reaction to wear something to rile him up wasn’t any good, and the warning he had given you had driven you to believe he knew you well enough to know you would if he hadn’t.

You hear the front door of the apartment close, Skyler getting home from day working at a cellphone carrier store. She hated the dumb customers but loved the commission she made when she sold plans. She places her things down, making her way straight to the bathroom to where the blaring music could be heard. “Going out somewhere?” She asks, slightly yelling to be heard over the music.

You reach to the Bluetooth speaker, turning down the volume a few notches. “Hot date with Eddie!” You tell her excitedly, leaning in to finish the last of the eyeliner.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had one planned!”

“Neither did I! He told me about the reservation just like an hour ago after he dropped me off.”

“Just like that?” She asks, leaning in.

You pause the movement of your brush on your face, using some setting powder for a final touch. “Just like that.”

Her eyebrows raised to her forehead quickly. “Okay, damn. That’s…that’s romantic.”

A smile lands on your face, and you close it to prevent the wider smile making its way to prevent teasing. “Mmmhmm.”

Face setting spray finishes your face before you run to your room to do the most daunting thing about getting ready…picking out your outfit.

It has to be something your ex hasn't taken off you either. There goes that hot blue little dress, and this green strappy number, and that really cute skirt…damn this might be harder than you thought. You used a lot of secret weapons from your arsenal with Dylan.

“I’m out of clothes!” You yell to your roommate, frustrated out of your mind.

“You still haven’t used that pretty dress you bought last month…the one still with a tag on it?” She calls out, referring to a dress you found that fit you perfectly but didn’t have anything to wear it for.

“That one is for special occasions!”

“Bitch, your boyfriend made spontaneous dinner date plans for your first date. It’s a special occasion, wear the damn dress!”

As it cascades down your body as you place it over your head, it couldn’t have been more perfect.

Sitting in your living room while waiting to be picked up should not be this jittery, butterflies doing a little dancey-dance in your stomach as Skyler absentmindedly binge-watches Buffy. You sent Eddie your address at his request about ten minutes ago, and now it's just a waiting game.

Three knocks at the door find you standing in a second, tripping over your own feet to get to the door. You open it to him, standing there with a single red rose. He's dressed in a gorgeous leather outdoor jacket, one only a man as fine as he is could pull off as well as he does and still make it look classy. He wears a pair of slacks with a dark red button down tucked loosely into it, the first three buttons undone.

Something tells you he’ll be moving his sleeves up his arms later. Fuck. He has never looked hotter.

“Hi, gorgeous. Ready?”

You nodded frantically, picking the open jacket up from the coatrack you had placed conveniently by the door. You turn back to face to your roommate to tell her not to wait up and face her, her mouth wide open. “I see it now.” She whispers, her jaw dropping again.

Your eyebrows raise to her in response but a glare reaches as your face as you turn around, something in you stupidly angry about this. Good. Look from afar.

The drive down is filled to the brim with unbridled anticipation, neither one saying much as you watch the pretty lights pass by on the way to the unspecified restaurant.

He places his hand on your thigh, thumb caressing it gently. Your dress is just long enough for his pinky to touch your leg but the rest lay on the soft material. “You look gorgeous, by the way.” He compliments you, and you suddenly realize he’s barely watching the road.

“Hmm.” You answer, nodding at the road. “My heart stopped when I opened the door, you are unfairly handsome.”

“Unfairly?” Eddie asks, voice incredulous at your word choice.

“Mmhmm.”

He chuckles, suddenly making a left turn into a group of scattered restaurants and your breath hitches, wondering, no.

Holy fuck, it is.

He pulls up and you’re peering up at what is known as the most expensive restaurant in town, the kind of place you only went with when your parents were celebrating an anniversary or something and were paying.

The kind of place that had good ass food, but you need to be able to pay minimum, 100 per person. The wine is automatically served, and the only music is a light piano melody. “Wanted to take you out for a treat. Somewhere I know damn well men your age can’t afford.”

That sentence alone drenches the lacy panties you wore.

He walks to your side after getting out, opening the door for you. The act isn’t much, something a man or two has done before him, but from him, it was like a goddamn touch of Midas.

The low light and piano music engulfs you, the conversation low as you see everyone is dressed in their best. You find yourself intimidated but Eddie walks in like he belongs.

Cause he does.

He asks for a reservation under his last name, and the waitress finds it right away. You can’t help but notice the way her eyes light up and damn, you usually don’t describe yourself as the jealous type but when it comes to him it's hard not to be.

As you get to your booth, Eddie takes off his jacket, revealing his sleeves up to his elbows, and it’s literally mouth watering. He does it so swiftly, and before you can even sit, he holds his hand out for your jacket as well. You take it off to hand it over, which he hangs ever so gently over his jacket on the hook.

Your hostess asks for drinks, Eddie asks for the drink menu and some water, you ask for water as well, hoping to find a suitable cocktail when the menu comes along.

The low lighting is flattering on him sitting across from you, and all his attention is on you, even as his eyes roam the menu. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you finally ask Eddie for his story, something even through the lust you’ve had a desire to know.

He describes growing up in Hawkins, Indiana, a rebel without a cause with a touch for the dramatics and running a role play DnD group. He describes his struggles as he failed grade twelve twice due to a large population chalking it up to laziness when in reality no one listened to his inability to sit down long enough to learn anything. He tells you about this group of friends he made in his final and successful attempt at grade 12, the ones that eventually kicked his ass into gear and none of them he would’ve been here without, and though they were all older like him, you hoped one day you’d be lucky enough to meet them face-to-face.

His attempt at college, realizing it wasn’t for him and dropping out a semester in when a local mechanic he knew offered an apprenticeship spot at his garage.

2 years into it, he finds out he enjoys it and he made enough money to move out. At 22 he meets a woman who comes into his shop with a check engine light on, and that was how he met Dylan's mom. You fought so hard not to roll your eyes as he described building a life with her and finding out she was pregnant, but it was hard not to be jealous.

Apparently she was the perfect mom from the outside, her connection to her son was unbeatable. Eddie soon found out she was having an affair with one of her co-workers, the same one she had told him time and time again that, no, of course he didn’t have a crush on her, that’s silly.

(They were fucking the whole time.)

If anything, it was the reason he had let Dylan find out so quickly. An affair would’ve made it ten times worse.

He finishes off, describing how difficult it was to raise him after she ran off with the co-worker, eventually finding something that worked for them. All in all, he was proud of the person he had raised Dylan to become, hopeful for their relationship.

You hung onto every word he told you through that meal like he had hung the moon and the stars. As he finishes, wiping his hands on his napkin as he ate, your eyes fixated on his forearms flexing, he apologizes, claiming he felt bad for talking the whole time.

“Oh, I could listen to you for hours.” It falls out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Well I’m sick of myself. Tell me about you.” He comments, so you did.

You tell him about being raised in the small town in rural America, being a teenager in the 2010s a slight difference than in the late 90s. Your stupid first boyfriend who dumped you as soon as he slept with you, your mom who meant well but often valued the opinions of others over her daughters needs and wants, your stoner of a best friend who had an opinion that you valued most of all, and how you met your current roommate through a facebook ad but it turned out you really clicked.

Your story had no beginning and no end, just going off your life based on what you felt like you had wanted to tell him.

“Dylan is a good boyfriend, by the way.” Eddie laughed at the absurdity of your sentence, all plates in front of you containing any food long gone while you had your third cocktail and Eddie drank some whiskey. Were you a bit tipsy? Yes. That sentence couldn’t have left your mouth without it. “After the lack of commitment on a stupid amount of dudes, his willingness to go all in, as we said that’s what we had both wanted, was exceedingly refreshing.” You took another gulp of it, the sugary drink hitting nicely. “He was stable, kind, thoughtful, but something was missing. In him I felt safety.” You pause, looking at him. “In you, I feel freedom.”

The conversation moved away from Dylan, thank God. As he asks for one more before the bill you can't help yourself. “Where do you see this going?” You gulp, scratching your nose, and paying close attention to your glass. “If you say anything other than long term, I might be sick.”

To Eddie, your level of honesty was refreshing. “Baby, anything but long-term has never been an option to me.”

Eddie gives his credit card to the waitress, a moon eyed girl who he had barely paid attention to. Either because he was being courteous with his attention or he just didn’t bother when you were right in front of him, it didn’t matter, but the thing itself gave you immense satisfaction. (It was the latter, for the record. Eddie had barely noticed her.)

As he helped you back into your jacket, slipping on his own, a feeling of intense satisfaction, pure bliss invaded your entire system. There was no first date that would ever be as good as this one. The set up, picking you up, the nice ass restaurant, the easy conversation, and lastly, the knowledge that when you got to his, he would be all over you, and you him.

Nothing was ever gonna be this good.

Good. You didn’t want anyone or anything but him.

Your head found his shoulder on the way back to his place, hands intertwined on your lap on the silent ride home, soft rock playing on his radio. As his truck reaches his driveway, you notice it's empty. Eddie picked up on this as your head perks up upon the observation.

“Asked if he could crash at a friend’s place tonight.” Eddie explains, having placed the truck in park, sitting back in his seat. “We got the place to ourselves.”

You grinned giddily, and you weren’t sure if it was the three and a half drinks or the troublesome feeling of your lacy panties being thoroughly soaked, but you were out his truck door before he could even register it. He climbs out, quickly shuffling behind you and he makes a giggle pour out of you as he scares you as you wait patiently at the door for him to unlock it.

He kisses your neck as he reaches in with one hand to unlock the door, and you open it and turn to him, yanking on the collar of his leather jacket. “Need you.” You mutter in between kisses, only in the entrance of the house but if you took another step without kissing him, you were gonna lose your mind. “Want. You.”

Your need is outrageously attractive, Eddie leaning into every kiss you've given him with the same amount of fervor, his hands holding your waist and fisting at the deliciously beautiful dress you had worn. You just had this dress? Waiting around? And you hadn’t blessed anyone with the perfect sight that was you dressed in it until now? What a goddamn sin.

It’ll be a shame when it hits the floor but this dress is only second to how goddamn good you looked naked as far as Eddie's concerned. Speaking of which…

Eddie continually kisses you, pulling you in against him, your breath hitches pulling your coat off and letting it fall to the floor. He backs you up to the stairs, and your foot hits the first step up, and as you’re starting to climb backwards Eddie pushes his body on yours, forcing you to sit. He takes it a step further by leaning in to kiss your neck, and your back falls onto the steps as well, just like he was hoping. Your legs open, welcoming his hips into yours.

Eddie only starts with soft kisses, just to smell your perfume and to feel your skin beneath his lips. “This dress, baby, this dress.” He pauses, a look of lust deep within his brown eyes. “Oh, fuck, this dress.” He couldn’t seem to tell you anything else, but you were thankful the gut feeling that told you to buy it was right. You tug on his collar, pulling it down his back to take it off.

Eddie assists you, letting the jacket fall clumsily down the three steps.

“My dress? This shirt!” You gasp, gripping onto it softly. “You look so good. The buttons undone on the top were..” You sigh as he kisses his way down to your shoulder. “…a nice touch.”

His hand pushes up your dress, hands roughly smoothing up your thigh, and one gets to the lacey panties. As his hand brushes the panties to take them off he gives you a manic smile. He takes them off, slowly, head against your shoulder as he does so. As the pair is taken off your foot, he inhales sharply at the sight of them, holding them in front of your body where he can see them. You see his hands touch where you soaked it all night, playing with the slick that has already gathered. “You’re not getting these back.”

He tosses them back playfully, going back to attack your neck. Eventually he leaves kisses all down your torso, and he kisses down your clothed thigh before making a big show of lifting the dress hem up, kissing along your thigh again. Only this time, your thigh wasn’t covered, and it was towards your now uncovered and absolutely throbbing cunt. As he moves closer, you start to whine, as with each kiss he adds more wetness, more tongue. Finally his mouth is right next to your core, and with his head in your skirt, he reaches for each leg to put them on his shoulders.

He goes straight in, tongue attacking your clit, your still covered feet dig into his back and a choked out moan leaves your throat. Eddie’s lips leave your pussy, his shining eyes in your sight as he popped his head from underneath your dress. “Be loud, show me how much you love my tongue all over your pussy. C’mon. Wanna hear you. If I catch you holding back again you’ll be sorry.” He leans in without another thought, and his tongue takes no time to continue.

“Oh, fuck!” You felt slightly embarrassed by it, but you were more worried about what he meant at the end there, by you’ll be sorry. If he edged you just for the hell of it, what was he gonna do as a punishment? “Your tongue, feels so fucking good, Ed.”

“Tastes—” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Tastes like heaven. Love your sweet, perfect, beautiful pussy.” The acoustics of talking through your dress didn’t make sense, but you could hear him loud and clear. “Look how wet this pussy is already for me, just dripping, oh fuck.”

“Fuck, you look, fuck, so good Ed. So fucking hot.”

“You were wet from my appearance alone?” Eddie asks, peering up at you from behind your dress.

“Since the first time I met you.” You gasp out, leaning onto your elbows on the step but finding your head heavy on your neck to look up at him.

“Jesus christ.” You smiled down at him, hand reaching forward for him. He interlocks his with yours and keeps it there as he dives back in your dress. Something feels different…the heat concentrates on your clit as he feverishly attacks it.

“Holy shit--!” You cry out, jerking your upper body forward. “Ed, holy fuck keep doing that.” His other hand joins him, hooking into you and immediately connecting with your g-spot. As you get closer, he can feel your hand tighten on his own as your moans lose all inhibition and you whine, all high pitched, the sound echoing beautifully in the empty house. “Ed, fuck—” Your orgasm snuck up on you, the heat expanding through your thighs and legs until the edge hits you in a silent scream, and you gush all over his face and your dress and the stairs.

Thank god Eddie had hardwood.

He comes out from your dress, and you look at him in disbelief. “What—” you start, still unraveling. “I don’t even—”

“C’mon.” He mutters, kissing your forehead. You follow him up to his room, knees already weak but moving anyway.

Your bodies collide with one another, lips mashing in hot, dirty kisses. “Need to fuck you now.” Eddie breathes, his hands working at the zipper on your back. The dress drops to reveal what he already knew, and that it was you weren't wearing a bra. “Perfect fucking tits, fuck.”

He tugs at his belt and untucks his pants, making him look like a horny teenager. Maybe not horny, just a few drinks in. But when he had what he called the hottest girlfriend, he felt like anyone could hardly blame him. His pants fly off and he undoes the last few buttons on his shirt before he yanks it off by the back.

When he’s finally undressed, he pauses as he gets a good look at you, the both of you ridiculously exposed. “Fuck. Am I so goddamn lucky I get to spend my night with you?”

“Just kiss me.” You tell him, reaching out for him and he lurches forward, wrapping his hands in your hair and taking your lips in a wet kiss. He leads you to his bed, taking step by step as you fall backwards onto it, and none of it is awkward, just perfect. He crawls on top as your leg makes its way around his hips, and he can’t even bother to tease you because if he doesn’t get his cock inside you he is gonna lose it.

You didn’t expect it so soon, usually getting a tease but the shock pulls out a loud moan from you, Eddie moaning at the same time as he pushes himself into you. He puts his forehead against yours, eyes closed. Yours are too, taking in the feeling of his cock inside you. No matter how many times, it's like you forgot how fucking good it felt, every time.

“God. I didn’t know a pussy could feel this…fuck.” He mutters as his words make you tighten around him. “Fucking intoxicating.” He leans in to nip lightly against your neck, whispering into your skin. “Can’t fucking get enough of it. And when I—” he lips his hips out of yours, fucking into you slowly, “—fuck you, there’s nothing fucking better.”

His hips continue, his head remaining in your neck, his body against yours as he just feels you against him. Your hands roam the muscles of his back, nails digging in as his hips gradually fuck you harder. “You always take my cock so goddamn well, baby. Such a good whore for me.”

You whimper; all coherent thought gone as the feeling of him is pure perfection.

“Fucking love your cock in me Ed! Fuck, just like- just like that.”

“Oh, I know you love my cock. You moan like a whore for it. Let me hear you baby.”

The whines you didn’t realize you were holding back came out of your mouth and he grabbed your hair harshly, and you let out a higher one. “Don’t hold back, remember?”

You nod your head, a restricted move because of his hold on you. Eddie lets go, his hand framing your face delicately. He leans in to kiss you, fierce and protective. “God, you’re so much more…more than I had ever wanted…ever hoped for…” his voice is softer now, whispering into your neck.

“Ed. You’re so good…to me. So lucky.”

He places a hand on your clit, rubbing gently at it. “Fuck, baby I’m gonna cum. Cum with me?”

“What am I gonna say, no? To that?” you gasp out. He chuckles softly, the laughter hot against your neck.

“Close.” You tell him and he picks up the pace, holding back a bit for you. “Eddie I—” and a full moan leaves your lips and as you tighten around him, his hips rutting into you.

Eddie moans loudly as he cums, a sound you wouldn’t blame angels for if they had used at the gates of heaven.

His weight is heavy on you, having collapsed. He kisses whatever skin he can reach, your shoulder, collarbone, jawline, corner of your mouth before wrapping your lips in a kiss you can only describe as breathtakingly romantic.

Fuck were you falling, falling hard. And as Eddie lay on top of you for a solid ten minutes, caressing your skin and kissing you softly, still inside you while basking in the afterglow, he is thinking the exact same thing.

Also that he needs to clean the stairs before Dylan gets home.

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

Those who requested for this fic: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @names-were-taken

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #older!eddie x reader #older!eddie #older eddie munson x you

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httpscomexe · 2 months

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Forbidden Secret Desire 3

Summary: You’re finally starting to fit in when you freak out in front of everyone. But twenty side eyes later and a lot of forgiveness from your friend Kurt, you discover a scary secret.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Panic attack, manipulation, hidden cameras, finally not as much awkwardness, social dissociation, being in the social eye. Logan is an official warning starting this chapter as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.

Word Count: 4542 (All other Chapters here) Chapter 4

Tags: @remmyj10 @sammyluvsfics @badbishsblog @dickmaster3000

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Enjoy your Forbidden Secret Desire...

“Alright, everyone, find a partner.” You shouldn’t be surprised that Logan was your teacher for your third period class. You remembered Hank and Logan talking about it the other day in the lab, but it still shocked you for some reason, maybe it was something else that surprised you, like the fact that he doesn’t just let everyone do whatever so he could get it over with. You knew he would be the substitute for both your third and fifth period classes for the rest of this week, and only because Xavier was out on some mission. The thing that bothered you the most now, was that you couldn’t partner up with anyone, and you knew no one would want to partner up with you. So you just watched as everyone else excitedly ran towards their best friends.

“Wanna be my partner?” A hand lands on your shoulder, making you flinch a little. It was Kurt of course. “We have a new student today and my normal partner is their guide.” He explains.

“Uh, yea sure. Cool.” Cool?

“Cool,” he smiles, his little fangs showing under his lips.

“Everyone have a partner?” Everyone nods, including you. “Good, find a place on the floor and sit in front of your partner.” You follow Kurt to an open spot, there were only about ten other kids in the class so it wasn’t too hard. “Once you’re sitting with your partner, find three things you both have in common. You have five minutes to talk amongst yourselves, time starts now.” You realise he’s reading every instruction from a pamphlet, that helped it make more sense. “Also apparently the three things you have in common cannot be common questions such as colours, animals, etcetera.” He finishes, placing the pamphlet down on the teachers desk. “Now your time starts now.” He picks up his phone, and starts the timer.

“So uh. What are some uncommon questions then?” You shrug, trying to think of a question with him. Why do they have to be uncommon Xavier? What the fuck? You wonder and listen to other students' conversations, but everyone is trying to figure out a question just like you and Kurt.

Your eyes turned back to him, and his index fingers were rubbing his temples, it was actually frustrating him. So now you understand the task. It’s almost impossible to come up with a question that no one commonly asks, so of course, thinking is stressing everyone out. It was anger management after all.

“If you were a unicorn, what colour would you want to be? I’d probably wanna be white.” You tell him, shrugging a little, hoping it would calm his frustration.

“Oh yea. I’d probably be white also, I get tired of being blue.” He chuckles a little.

“Okay if you were a dragon, would you breathe fire or something else?”

“I'd probably want to breathe ice.”

“I think it would be cool to be able to choose.” You tell him, sitting back up and crossing your arms in your lap.

“If you were forced to do one subject for the rest of your life, what would you choose?” He asks you, understanding the project now.

“Definitely science.”

“Same, it’s a more fun subject.”

“Especially compared to anger management.” You joke, making him chuckle quietly. “Okay, one more question.” You prop your elbows on your thighs as you look at him. The rule is no common questions, so Xavier wants us to ask uncommon questions, with common answers.

“If everything in the world could only be flavoured one thing, what flavour would you choose?”

“I would choose vanilla. It’s plain, I can't get tired of it.”

“I would probably choose green apples, but not too sour.”

“How about the scent?”

“Scent I would choose vanilla.” He tells you, one again laughing to himself.

“Same, and there’s our three questions.” You turn your head to look at the projector, there was about a minute left and Logan was going around and asking groups how everything was doing. In another direction, a kid who could harness fire had smoke coming from the back of his head as he thought of another question.

“Alright and how are you two doing?” Logan asks Kurt and then his eyes also move to you.

“Good, we just finished.”

“No common questions?” You both shake your heads. “Good, you’re the only pair to finish so far.” He mumbles, moving onto the next group.

“So what’re you doing after your last class?” Kurts asks you, leaning forward to ask the question, his eyes trained on you.

“I’m supposed to help Hank- Mr. McCoy with another project.”

“You do that everyday.” He leans back on his palms.

“Yea, I never have anything better to do. Unless something comes up then I cancel.”

“So he doesn’t ask you for help? You just kind of pop in?” You nod.

“Unless he asks me to. Then it can be important… it’s usually stupid.” He smiles slightly.

“So my friends and I are having a little sleepover in my room tonight.”

“Oh…” You move your hands together, once again your thumb begins to pick at your skin.

“Yea, it would be cool if you came by. We're gonna have pizza, some drinks, and we're gonna watch a movie.”

“What movie?” You ask, the timer reaching zero as Logan walks back to the desk to turn it off.

“Whatever we pick out of the hat. Last week it was Big Hero 6.” He shrugs.

“Uh, yea. I’ll try, what time?”

“Around 9PM is normally when the others show up.” You nod in understanding, then Logan speaks up.

“Okay so, it says here that you guys are all supposed to stand up and share your groups three questions.” He tells everyone, reading the pamphlet out loud. “But I don’t wanna hear it. So the rest of the ten minutes in class is to yourselves. Enjoy.” He tosses the papers back on the desk and the students immediately begin talking amongst themselves. Talking about anything they could come up with. The news, food, anything, while you and Kurt stood back up, he walked to his friend group expecting you to follow. But you only make your way back to your desk to sit on your phone for the remainder of class. Logans eyes settling on you, and you know you’re not supposed to be on your phone, but he doesn’t bother making a scene, instead, his eyes rest on you, occasionally moving to other students to see what they’re doing or moving to look at his email, but the majority of the ten minutes, all he could look at was you.

And then the bell finally rang, and everyone collected their items in their bags before leaving the classroom for lunch.

Normally for lunch you’d just sit in your room on your bed, finishing any work you had to finish and if you were hungry you’d either tough it out or you would’ve ordered something before your third class ended. Today, Kurt changed your plans.

“Hey, we ordered extra, we were hoping you would also sit with us today?” He asks, holding out a box of food that smelt amazing. So you nod, and follow behind him to the little area his friends were sitting. They all smiled up at you from their spots on the floor, and you joined silently. This dude just bribed you with food.

They all chat amongst themselves, and you simply poke at your food with your plastic fork, occasionally taking a small bite. You’ve never been the type of person who’s able to eat an entire meal in front of people you’ve never spoken to without feeling awkward.

They talked about class, and classwork, and talked a little about hanging out in Kurt's room tonight, but that was about it. Occasionally, there would be an inside joke that you didn’t understand, but you didn’t mind. You kept your eyes on your food, and that was it.

“So what about you?” Jean nudges you, making you look up to see everyone's eyes on you. What was the question? You ask yourself, panic rising in your chest.

“Yea, Y/N. Where would you be if you didn’t have to be here?” Alex, you’re a saviour.

“Uh, well…” You think about it for a moment, not sure where you’d wanna be. Definitely not with your family, you don’t have a home or caring family outside of the mansion. Hell you didn’t even have friends inside the mansion. “I don’t really know.”

“Oh come on. Paris? Mexico?” Scott- or Cyclops asks you.

“Oh, like where do I want to visit?”

“Or live.” Kurt cuts in, smiling at you.

“I would choose Russia.” You shrug, and they all stare at you.

“Imma be honest I was expecting the Maldives or some sort of beach.” Jean laughs a little. “But why Russia? There’s nothing there but snow and vodka.” You nod.

“It’s where I was born…”

“No way…” Alex scoffs. “You don’t look Russian. And you’ve only been here for what? Three years?”

“Almost.” You sigh a little. “About two years and eight months.”

“You literally never talk to anyone.” Jean says out loud, and you look up at her, your eyes daring her to continue. “How do you not have an accent?” Rude. Your eyes squint slightly.

“Okay, guys, next subject.” Kurt says, a little chuckle in the back of his throat. “Actually, what kind of pizzas are you guys wanting for tonight? I’m ordering this time.” He takes out his phone and opens a pizza ordering app.

“Can we get Hawaaian?”

“No, come on, meat lovers!”

“That's gross, why not just normal pepperoni?”

“Well I don’t like sauce.”

“I like alfredo.”

“Guys come on, just choose two. I’m getting two pizzas.”

“So get Hawaiian and meat lovers.”

“What about sauce?”

“Just get a sauce cup, or like five sauce cups? I love sauce.”

“Well I hate it.”

It was too much. Too much back and fourth, and you honestly couldn’t stand it. It was making your head whirr and your brain was pounding as they argue about something as simple as pizza. Then they start arguing about sodas and it’s just all this back and fourth. It was too much.

“Hey wait where are you going?” Alex is the first one to ask about your sudden leave as you get up from the ground and throw away your trash, but you don’t walk back towards them. “She’s not answering me.” He tells the rest of the group, as if it wasn’t already obvious.

You just don’t think you would’ve been able to muster one more word from their lips.

“Hey! Y/N, wait!” You hear Kurt's voice call after you and footsteps behind you, and your face heats up as he gets closer, your arms crossing as you try to console yourself. Then his fucking hand touching your shoulder and he turns you around, one hand on each of your shoulders as he tries to keep you steady, but it only freaks you the fuck out.

“Do NOT touch me!” You shout. The entire eating area goes quiet as each pair of eyes lands on you. Shit.

“Hey, uh… Calm down a little…”

“Do not tell me what to do…” You threaten, but it comes out as more of a warning.

“Well uh… you’re probably freaking everyone out with your hands right now…” What?

In your frustration, you hadn’t even realised you had pushed him off of you, his hands were up in defence, but his shirt had a burn hole in it that wasn’t there before.

Looking down at your hands, there was a red and blue glow emitting from your fingers all the way through your veins. You could only imagine how your eyes looked as you stared down at your hands in embarrassment. Oh, right. You can’t control your powers when you’re stressed, frustrated, sad, mad, happy. You always have to be just… neutral.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” Another voice calls and Professor Lehnsherr approaches you with a soft smile. “Come with me so you can cool down.” He tells you, gently placing his hand on your back to lead you out of the eating area before anything escalates.

“Alright.” He sighs, and closes your bedroom door behind you. “Want to tell me what happened back there?” You shake your head. It would’ve sounded pathetic. “That’s okay. Oh honey, don’t sit down.” He holds a hand out to grab your arm but doesn’t, knowing damned well he would burn himself if he touched you. “You’ll burn the sheets.” He reminds you, and you take a few steps away from the bed, but bring your hands up to your face to rub your temples, attempting with all of your effort to control your breathing. Got it, so personal questions and constant back and forth conversations stress you out. You tell yourself. “So… I think you should spend the rest of the day to yourself and-”

“No. No, I have to go to class, remember I said I can’t skip anymore just because I can’t fix myself.” You tell him, reminding him of the first time you freaked out and made the promise.

“Y/N, it’s not about fixing yourself, it’s about controlling your emotions.”

“Well everyone else is able to! Why can’t I?”

“Because everyone in this school associates themselves with others.” You hate to say it, but he was right. Everyone else is used to public stress, because they constantly have it.

“Well I still cannot and will not skip the rest of the day.”

“Fine then. Skip just this fourth period, then go to fifth period, but if you feel like you’re not up for it, then send me a text and I’ll send your substitute a text also so he knows you’re not coming.” You don’t say anything. “Sounds good?”

“Yea. Yes. Uh huh, that- yes… that sounds good.”

“Okay, I’ll let Hank know you’re not up for fourth period, then like I said.” He makes his way to the door and holds the handle. “Let me know if you need the entire rest of the day off. Okay?” You nod and give him an ‘mhm,’ before he finally leaves.

Okay what normally calms you down..? You wonder, looking around your room and heading towards your desk to search for the little paper you write those types of things on. There was painting your nails, colouring books, sitting in your dark closet because there’s no sounds in there, and then there was a nice shower or bath. Cold, shower or bath of course. You decide you should just do that.

You roll down the sleeves of the jacket that you’ve had on all day, and then unzip it and throw it off into your dirty laundry basket. The bell for lunch had just rung, so the sound of other students chatting in the halls made way into your room. How you wish the walls and doors were thicker. You wonder as you begin to slide off your leggings, also discarding them in your laundry basket before walking into your bathroom and turning on the faucet, letting the water run cold as you step into the tub with your hair up so you could just relax in the water.

As soon as you’re done, you wrap a towel around your body and step out, perfect timing as the fourth class ends and the bell rings throughout the school walls. Then there’s that annoying whirring sound again as you stand in front of your desk, going through the clothes you’d swore you would go through that morning.

After choosing a plain blue sweater and another pair of black leggings, along with your matching set of panties and a bra, you hear yet another clicking sound, the same you heard from last night. You don’t remember hearing it earlier, so you again assume it’s your neighbours, doing something in their room during the ten minute passing period. Annoying. But you wonder what they could possibly be doing with a camera that loud, and that often. It did only start yesterday, so you hoped it would bore them out eventually.

After what felt like a thousand more clicks, on top of getting fully dressed, you decide you’d be able to make it to class. Your nerves were cool, and you didn’t feel as frustrated as before.

So after about a minute with your palm lying on the door handle, you finally had the courage to open the door with about two minutes left to make it to your fifth period, meditation.

Walking back into the halls felt like you were a fox on a bunny farm. All eyes were on you, and as usual, everyone was whispering about you. The only difference between now and before was they didn’t even try to hide that they were talking about you. If you hadn’t been so used to this scene, you would’ve already freaked the fuck out. So instead, you easily and quickly make it to your first class, having enough of the staring eyes.

“Everyone brought their mat today like they were asked to on Friday?” Logan, also substituting for your fifth period.

Everyone takes their mats out of their bag, including you and everyone rolls it out on the floor in their assigned spot. Surprising considering there was a sub. Then again, it was Wolverine. You sit in your assigned spot as well, but a little further away from everyone. Not everyone had been there for the scene that had unfolded during lunch of course, some people were inside the cafeteria. But you knew that by now the word had spread inside and outside of the mansion.

“Today, we’re going to just relax.” His voice softens a little, becoming nearly soothing. “First I’m going to have you all do some stretches though, so will Jean please come to the front to lead the stretches?” He asks, watching as Jean stands with her mat and faces the entire class on the floor before beginning the stretches, the entire class of about thirty people this time copying her.

You watch as she moves to lie on her stomach, and you follow her movements slowly, placing your palms in front of you and pushing up to stretch, then you follow along all the rest of her simple stretches before she finishes and moves her mat back to her original spot.

“Okay, now here’s the video Xavier said to play.” A video on youtube comes onto the projector screen of an elderly woman sitting on a purple mat with her legs crossed, then she speaks into her camera, asking everyone to copy what she does, then the video goes silent for a moment before the sounds of waterfalls and chirping birds play, attempting to put the viewers mind at ease as everyone's eyes close, to apparently rid their eyes of distractions.

You’re ten minutes in. It’s actually peaceful. You tell yourself with your eyes closed, still sitting with your legs crossed on the floor and your hands on your knees.

“Here.” You hear a voice behind you, prompting you to open your eyes. “No, no. Close your eyes and face forward.” He tells you, and you do. He’s quiet enough so only you could hear him over the waterfall and birds. Then you feel his palm press gently on the middle of your back, causing you to straighten your posture as you involuntarily try to escape his touch. “I heard what happened. I didn’t expect you to show up to fifth.” He admits, letting his palm rest on your lower back, just above your ass, and you take a deep breath. “How’re you feeling now?”

“Fine.” You whisper back, matching his quiet tone so as not to interrupt anyones meditation.

“That’s good. I was worrying about you. I noticed you skipped the fourth period.” You hear him move next to you, and you open your eyes just enough so he doesn’t notice. Instead of kneeling, he was now crouching next to you on your right. His left hand moves to your left shoulder. “But I’m glad you’re alright. Just let me know if you ever need anything.” Emphasising “Anything,” making it clear that he’d kick ass just for someone looking at you wrong.

You nod slightly, then in your mostly closed eyes, you see him move closer to you. Flinching as his left hand gently holds the side of your head, your lips parting just slightly as you feel his lips touch your temple. A gesture that was supposed to feel sweet, but everything in you was saying it was sinister. Of course, being you, you throw the red flag out of your head and settle on him just being a good friend. I mean he’s your professor. Surely it wouldn’t be more than that.

Right?

The meditation session ends and everyone rolls up their mats and are immediately glued back to their phones or talking to their friends obnoxiously. You also of course are guilty, turning on your phone to no notifications to reply to, as usual- Wait. I have a text? You open your phone to see the text with Kurt's name right next to it.

Kurt Wagner: I’m hoping you’re still coming tonight?

You: I don’t know… I’m sorry about what happened earlier.

Kurt Wagner: Hey it was an accident, and I’ve been meaning to throw that shirt away anyways.

You: Oh, well I hope it was just the shirt. I didn’t burn you right?

Kurt Wagner: Luckily no. You’re such a worry bug.

You: Sorry…

“Wait, where’s the pizza?” Alex is the first to notice as they all walk into the room, everyone eyes first landing on you sitting on Kurt's bed with your legs crossed.

“Well, turns out, Y/N doesn’t like pizza. So I got KFC, McDonalds, and Taco Bell.” Kurt explains, hopping off the bed and retrieving his TV remote. You didn’t even have a TV in your room. At least not anymore. “I know each of you likes at least one of these, so enjoy.” He tells them, turning back to see you snacking on a quesadilla.

“So what movie are we watching then?” Scott asks, grabbing a solid ten chicken pieces from the KFC bucket. “Have you guys pulled from the hat?”

“We have not.” He tells them, then disappears in his closet, reappearing a minute later with some fancy tophat that makes you smile a little. “Who wants to choose from the hat?”

“Make Y/N.”

“Yea, this is her first time, let her.”

“Just don’t let Scott choose, his hand is a magnet for Toy Story, and if I watch it again I’ll know the entire script by broken heart.”

“Okay, okay.” Kurt chuckles, holding the hat out in front of you and giving you an encouraging smile. “Lets let Y/N choose tonight then.” He says, and you angle your arm slightly to reach into the tophat and pull out the first piece of paper your fingers touch. “What did you get?”

They all stare at you as you open the little paper. “Finding Dory.” Your eyebrow quirks a little.

“Finally, we’ve been waiting for someone to choose that one.” Jean tells you and you roll the paper back up, handing it to Kurt and he puts it back in the hat then sets the hat on his desk.

“Alright, let's get this party started!”

Was the last thing anyone had said for over an hour, aside from Alex asking Jean if she was crying when baby Dory popped on the TV. So pretty much, the entire hang out was amazing so far. No complaints, no fighting, and best of all, you didn’t receive a single sidewards look.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, drawing your attention from the movie and you turn the brightness on your phone down as if you’re in a movie theatre to check the notification. A text from Professor Lehnsherr.

Metal Head: Have you received my email? I’ve been worried.

You: Sorry I’ve been busy. I’m fine now though. My computer is in my room so I haven’t seen it.

Metal Head: Well when you get the chance, please check the attachments I’ve sent you asap.

You: Alright.

“Everything okay?” Kurt asks, crawling close to you as you begin to stand up from the floor.

“Yea, just Mr. Lehnsherr asked me to check my email asap, which also means now.”

“You’re probably the only person who doesn’t just call him Magneto.” He adds on. “Can I come with you? I’ve never been in your room.”

“It’s nothing special, but sure.” You both stand up, and you head for the door with him behind you. Opening the door and heading straight to your room.

As soon as you get inside and close the door behind Kurt, you open the laptop that’s sitting on your bed and you punch in the password to check your emails.

“It’s actually really… woodsy in here.” Kurt tells you, looking around your room in astonishment. “It’s funny how every student's room has a different vibe, yours smells like pine.” He sits next to you on the bed, the side of his thigh touching yours.

“He just sent me a bunch of attachments, he’s been really into my work on nanotech so whenever he has a question he emails them to me.” You shrug, typing back a response to his question saying ‘does nanotech make a sound?’

As you type out the response and finish sending it. Kurt speaks again. “What is that whirring sound?” He asks, looking down at you and you look up at him after closing your screen. Your faces uncomfortably close.

“I actually have no idea. It’s been happening since last night, I just assumed whoever's my neighbour got something that makes that sound or maybe the AC is acting up.” You shrug and he stands up, his pointy ears twitching slightly as he picks up your build-a-bear.

“Nobody is in that room… The student who was sleeping there left a few months ago.” He tells you and you slowly get off the bed. Approaching him as he holds the bear. “Y/N… Where did you get this?” You gently take the bear in your hands.

“From the mall… There’s a build-a-bear shop there.”

“The day you went with Professor Howlett?”

“Yes.” You squint your eyes in confusion. “Was this always there…?” You mumble.

“I don’t know, was it?” Kurt asks, looking down at the little bear's right eye which seemed to have a spec of a glowing red spot on it.

Some panic gets to you, setting deep in your stomach, making you want to vomit. Who would put a camera in your bear? You ask yourself, and Kurt verbally asks the same question. “I don’t know… I’m going to bring it to Professor Howlett though… He’s the one that helped me stuff it.” Kurt only nods, and you wrap the bear in a shirt before putting it on the shelf in your closet and closing the door, leaving the camera to watch the dark…

#marvel #marvel smut #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #smut #x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan #logan howlett #logan x reader #Forbidden Secret Desire

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st4rg1rl-16 · 8 months

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━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ arabella talks about her past on her first appearance on drive to survive and attends her first formula one gala on melbourne

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 24 march

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ melbourne, australia

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ only cursing i believe

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ I wrote the fic a little over a year ago when I started to like f1 so the first chapters sucks, this one specially it’s short and doesn’t happens much on it but it’s a start. It will get better and more dramatic, you will see 😮‍💨

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @burberryfilms @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg

• — need for speed’s masterlist

"ARE you nervous?" At the cameraman's question, the girl dressed in red looked up but didn’t raise her head.

“Why?” English slid across her tongue mixed with a soft spanish accent. Her accent was not as pronounced as the other two hispanic drivers, but if you listened carefully, you could hear it clearly “Do I look nervous?”.

“No, no, no, you look very good” The man was quick to shake his head at her, making her smile slyly.

“Damn right I do” The staff laughed at the girl's self-centeredness when she moved in her seat in a more comfortable position and looked directly at the camera raising both eyebrows.

The coordinator approached the cameraman and looked at her with a slight smile "Okay, Arabella. Are you ready?”.

Releasing an affirmative 'Mmmh' she straightened her back again. She placed her right leg over her left thigh and gripped her ankle, leaning forward slightly in the chair.

"Introduce yourself and we'll proceed to the questions, then you can leave" The girl, still a little surprised to find herself there, nodded and began to play with the silver chain that hung around her neck.

It had been five months since she had signed with Ferrari to enter Formula One and she still couldn't believe it, despite being in a room sitting in front of a dark background with thousands of eyes looking at her and cameras recording her as she told her story so that came out in a Netflix documentary like she was a rock star or something.

It was fucking crazy.

“I'm Arabella Torres and I’m a driver for Scuderia Ferrari” She smiled without showing her teeth and looked at the woman who would ask the questions, who made a gesture encouraging her to continue “I was born in Madrid, Spain and I've always wanted to be a Formula One driver. It's been five months since I've done it and, uhm, I still can’t believe this isn't a dream”.

“At what age did you start driving?”.

“Officially?” She asked and the director laughed while the interviewer nodded “At nine years old. When I was seven I was given my first kart, well actually it was for my little brother, Oliver, who is now a motorcycle driver, but he was very young and was more interested in Pokémon than cars. Anyway, I took over the go-kart and started racing 'illegally'” She made quotation marks with the index and middle fingers of both hands and laughed “I raced against other kids at the go-kart track that they put on at fairs every spring and summer in my neighborhood. Parents bet money against their children”.

There were several laughs and she smiled, shrugging her shoulders.

“When I was nine years old, my father signed me up for the Spanish Karting Championship. I won” She made a face of obviousness raising both eyebrows. "After that I began to climb categories. I won all the races. I remember thinking that it was very boring because everyone was very slow and it bored me, it was very easy to win.

“Is that why they call you 'Speedy'?” The blonde, brown-eyed woman shuffled some papers she held in her hands as she crossed her leg over the other.

She pursed her lips. "A narrator from the European Championship called me that. It was in... 2012, I think? I don't know. I finished the race almost two minutes ahead of the second driver, I was the fastest by a lot. I broke the international speed record for the category. I remember I didn't know what it meant because I didn't know much English at the time and I got offended when people started calling me that, I thought they were making fun of me”.

"Poor thing," she let out an empathetic laugh, "Of course, you were only twelve years old at the time and you had never left Spain, right?”.

“Never”.

"Do you like to go fast? As you said, they were very slow and you got bored”.

"I love going fast," She took a deep breath with a big smile on her face, "I feel the need, the need for speed."

“I feel the need, the need for speed!” They all repeated the phrase in unison making her laugh.

"Okay, let's see..." She bit her lip looking for the next question, as soon as she read it she frowned but read it anyway "What is it like to be a woman in this sport? To be the only female driver in Formula One?" One?.

A snort escaped from between her full lips, “That question….”

"How many times have they asked you this?"

“I haven't counted them but I've only been in Formula One for five months and I'm sick of that question already.” She rubbed her forehead and licked her lips before letting out a sigh. “But okay, I'll answer. Whatever” she shrugged unwillingly and the others laughed making her smile “As a child I had no friends. At school they didn't want to hang out with me because I was the weird car girl who sometimes skipped classes to go to competitions, even many of my teachers didn't treat me well for it.

The interviewer looked at her with her mouth open in amazement and Arabella nodded as if to say "It's true, believe it”

“They were angry with me because I didn't go to their classes because maybe I had a championship in a city 500km away and I couldn't go to school in three days. Sometimes they would ask me "Arabella, why are you wasting your time with that?" or "Arabella, you're a girl, that's for boys" and I would get angry because, who were they to tell me what I should do with my life? I thought "my parents have given me permission" and that's all that mattered to me, that my parents agreed and supported me” She adjusted the belt of the red jumpsuit and continued “As for Formula One, I'm not going to lie, it’s hard. Not because of the job itself but because of the people, all those people who criticize me for just being a woman and overestimate me as if I didn't know how to use a car, it's the most difficult thing”.

“Do they send you a lot of hateful messages on social media?”

She clucked her tongue with a wry smile hanging on her lips. "And death threats. I don't give a shit though– oh wait!” She ran her hand up to her mouth and wide-eyed looked around her “Can I swear?”.

The director along with her manager, sitting behind some televisions a few meters away, agreed with a laugh.

She sighed in relief and smirked, "Ah, so.....shit, I don't give a shit. People can say what they want, after all they're sitting at home and I'm the one being paid to drive a fucking Ferrari”.

She looked away from the woman and winked at the camera, the technician blushed and inadvertently turned the angle ever so slightly.

“Tell me about your family. How is your life now that you have got an eight million dollar contract? Because as far as I know, you didn't have a lot of money growing up, right?”.

She turned her gaze to her "Yes, that's true. My parents worked as cashier in supermarkets and we didn't have a lot of money. We had to sell the house because the bills and debts were piling up. After that we moved in with my paternal grandparents and lived with them for a couple of years until we moved to the coast to live with my maternal grandparents. It was difficult because we were eight people living in a five-bedroom house in which the only source of income was my parents. I almost never saw them, they went to work in the morning and came back at night. My grandmother raised me and my brother, that was when I was six years old.” She clenched her jaw and blinked several times, trying not to cry. Her family didn’t have a very good time as far as money was concerned.

She swallowed back tears and continued “When I started winning races, I started making money and with that I helped out at home. We could eat better, my grandmother was in poor health so we could pay for her medicines too, school materials and bills but still most of the money went on trips to the competitions so it was still a bit difficult to pay for things. When I started in Formula 3 I began to earn more money and paid most of my parents' debts, then in Formula 2 I paid my grandparents' debts and house and some other things to my aunts. Now that I earn so much money I have been able to buy a house for myself and I have bought another one for my parents. Now I want to buy one for my grandparents. I want no one in my family to lack anything, ever”.

The lady smiled sadly and nodded. "That's very noble of you. Is that your goal in Formula One, to take care of your family?”.

“It is one of them but not the main one”.

“What is your goal in Formula One?”.

She fixed her gaze on the camera, her face completely changed to a serious and determined one. "Win. I want to be the best, I want to be better than Lewis Hamilton, I want to win the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

"Do you think you'll make it?".

"Oh, I know I will." Her right corner rose pulling her full lips into a self-centered half smile. "Even if I have to die for it, I will."

“GOD, my tits are sweating” She complained while her fingers pulled on the corset, trying to unstick it from her skin so some air could pass through.

The boy let out a laugh that he tried to hide with his hand but she heard him. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Is this funny to you? I'm suffering”.

“It's not every day that I hear that someone's chest is sweating, sorry for laughing” He apologized but she ignored him by pulling at her clothes again. He looked her up and down, delicately observing how the long ferrari red skirt fit around her body, stopping right at her waist letting the corset of the same color expose the skin of her hip.

He wondered where the team's logo was, he had it on his jacket on the side of his chest but the prancing horse wasn’t on her dress.

Without taking his eyes of her, he licked his lips "If it's any consolation, I think you look very pretty."

“Wow, Leclerc” Immediately a flirtatious smile crept across her lips and he rolled his eyes “And here I thought you were going to be rude and not give a compliment to this beautiful lady”.

“Why give you compliments if you already give them to yourself?” He turned his gaze to the window and observed the streets of Melbourne without interest, without a doubt they were not as interesting as the beauty sitting next to her.

A silence filled the car, it wasn't uncomfortable but it was silence and it was killing Charles because he wanted –no, he needed– for her to say something. He needed them to keep talking because he knew that when they got to her gala they were going to snatch her from his arms and he probably wouldn't talk to her again until the next day.

"I think you're very handsome too." With a murmur she broke the silence. Playing with the rings that decorated her fingers and also looked out her window “The suit looks good on you.”

“Thank you, Belle” A feeling of warmth enveloped him and suddenly he felt that the suit was suffocating him. He cleared his throat and shifted in the seat “I heard you recorded with Netflix today, how did it go?”.

She turned her body, with difficulty because of her corset, in the direction of his so that she could better converse with him. She smiled slightly "It was strange?" Her laugh make him smile "I had never done something like this but I liked being able to tell my story and I'm eager for people to see it. I want them to know me for me and not for what the press says or the haters on the internet.

Giving her a somewhat sad smile he took her hand in his and squeezed it affectionately "I'm sure they'll love you."

"Thank you, Charles." Her eyes traveled all over his face as she responded with a grateful smile.

For Arabella, her relationship with her teammate was strange. She knew him from Formula Three but they never spoke because he was older and was always with the boys his age while she only had Mick and Lando as friends since most of the other kids didn't like that there was a girl in Formula Three, much less one that was who was kicking their asses. It was when she started in the Ferrari academy in 2016 that they were introduced to each other but they didn’t hang out too much since he was still affected by the death of his godfather, Jules Bianchi, and she was very focused on finishing her studies to be able to focus on her career better.

Eight months ago, Ferrari was beginning to tease that both would be the next drivers for Formula One, so their managers suggested that they start talking to improve their camaraderie and she couldn't complain, they had a good relationship but it was strange since sometimes there was tension and he had a hard time talking to her, sometimes he seemed shy or cold and that drove her crazy because she only wanted a friend, she didn't have any so being friends with her teammate sounded good.

While for Charles his relationship with Arabella was pleasant or at least it was until a couple of months ago, when he began to look at her with different eyes and he didn’t like that because it was dangerous for both him and her, they would be kicked out of Ferrari because the contract they had signed and Arabella would be massacred on social media, it would be a disaster. Of course, this is speaking in case she also reciprocated his feelings and they started a relationship, but it didn't look like that was going to happen at any time because his teammate didn't even deign to look at him for more than a minute, let alone look at him that way.

He didn't want their friendship to be affected by his little crush, he wanted to be her teammate and her friend, but unfortunately sometimes his feelings got the better of him and he didn't know how to act in front of her so things sometimes became awkward.

“Do you think the sponsors will like me?” Her question caught his attention, taking him away from her thoughts. He looked at her and for a moment he swore he saw a small, insecure girl.

He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb and smiled at her "They're going to love you, like everyone else and if not better for me then”.

She let go of his hand, much to his dismay, and gave him a little push on his arm, making him laugh in amusement.

Suddenly screams began to be heard outside the car, drawing the attention of both drivers. Each one looked out their respective window, amazed to see fans crowded at the door of the hotel where the small gala for the beginning of the season would be held.

"We have arrived" The driver informed them, drawing their attention; they didn’t even remembered that there was a third person in the car.

They looked at each other. Charles took a deep breath, placing his hand on the door handle "Wait here, I'll help you down."

“There‘s no need...”

“Yes, there is” And with that he got out of the car, the screams increased.

The girl took a breath and began to play with the pearl necklace that decorated her neck.

“Hostia puta” Muttered to herself in her native language before sighing and putting a smile on her face. Holy shit.

Just in time the door opened revealing her teammate. He extended his hand towards her offering support, she looked into his eyes and nodded ever so slightly to herself before sliding her hand over his. As soon as she got out of the car, the flashes blinded her and the screams left her deaf for a few seconds until Charles began to pull her towards the hotel door.

She smiled at the cameras and let herself be carried away by the monegasque, who took her arm and wrapped it in his own before leaning towards her ear. His lips lightly brushing against his ear “You're doing so good”

Her body froze, why she suddenly had goosebumps?.

The brown haired boy walked away from her although he was still at a quite questionable distance and locked eyes with her. Arabella frowned slightly, getting lost in his green eyes so light that they seemed transparent unlike her own, which were assimilated to fresh grass.

What was happening?.

“Bella!” Daniel Ricciardo exclaimed as soon as he saw them, interrupting whatever was happening between them. The younger two turned in the direction of the voice, finding themselves with a small group made up of some of their fellow drivers.

“Danny” The girl smiled, letting go of her teammate to head towards the others. Immediately the middle child of the Leclercs felt a sting in his chest when he saw her leaving, but then was distracted when he saw something shining on the girl's lower back.

'FERRARI'

The team's name in capital letters danced with every step the girl took, written in sparkling gems on the skirt of her dress not far from her butt.

“Mon dieu” He breathed out through his nose, shaking his head. It was going to be a very long night. My god.

“I don't know if it's legal for you to drink alcohol in this country” The spaniard male looked with concern at the glass of champagne that was dancing between his compatriot's delicate hands.

"Don't worry, I asked Ricciardo and he said the minimum age here is eighteen” She pursed her plump lips in a smile and brought the glass to her mouth, finishing off the golden liquid in one gulp. She wrinkled his nose “Esto es un coñazo.” This is so fucking boring.

Sainz let out a small laugh behind his glass. “Yes, it is.”

“Ah, I know!” A gasp came out of her mouth and her gaze lit up, which scared the McLaren driver who looked at her with terror “We should escape”.

“No no no no. Don't even think about it, Bella” He left the glass on the bar where they were leaning while he shook his head repeatedly.

A pout appeared on her lips, painted red as her dress “Oh, come on! Please, Carlos” She began to fix the boy's suit as if it wasn’t perfectly ironed, she squinted at him “Tell me you wouldn't eat a hamburger from McDonalds instead of this fucking appetizers that feels like you're eating cardboard”.

He looked at her interested and she smiled, he was going to accept. He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the arrival of the monegasque.

He looked at the girl's hands on the older man's chest and frowned. "What are you doing?"

“She's seducing me” The black-haired man murmured in english, earning a pinch from the girl “Oh! Hija de–“ Son of (a bitch).

“We were talking about going to eat something real and not this” She picked up a appetizer that was next to her with a disgusted expression before turning to Charles to look at him curiously “Do you want to come? It seems that Carlitos doesn't want to come with me”.

To be alone with her? In that dress of hers? Without thinking he answered yes and she stuck her tongue out at Carlos, who rolled his eyes.

“If you leave, you should go to your hotel, to sleep and nothing else” Carlos opened his eyes widely and set his tone in the last sentence, insinuating something.

"How boring," She twisted her mouth before taking 16's hand, taking him by surprise "See you, Carlitos. Have a good time, eh”.

In response, the older man gave her the middle finger to which she laughed before beginning to pull her teammate, who looked at the older man over his shoulder.

—Careful— Who with his index and ring fingers pointed to his eyes and then to them as if to say "I'm keeping an eye on you."

An hour and a half later they were both sitting on the hood of a Ferrari devouring some hamburgers while looking at Melbourne from a viewpoint that Daniel had advised Arabella to visit.

“Will we get in trouble for this?” Guilt had begun to form in the female driver’s stomach. What if they got into serious trouble for having escaped? Or worse, what if she got Charles into trouble?.

Even without swallowing his burger and with sauce on the corner of his mouth, he gave him a toothless smile “If we do it, it's worth it. Dieu, those appetizers were horrible”. God.

She laughed thinking he looked adorable, she looked down at the burger in her hands and took another bite.

“Don't worry, we already talked to all the sponsors” Seeing her still worried, he dropped the hamburger on his lap and took her chin in his huge hand, making her turn her face to look at him “We did our job. They will tell us nothing. Calm down, okay?”.

Since she didn't answer, he got closer to her and leaned his hand up to her, forcing her to look up at him "Okay?"

She let out an affirmative "Mmmh" finally looking into his eyes. And suddenly everything stopped: the lights, the noise of the cars, the air moving the trees, the voice of Harry Styles singing the chorus of "Lights Up" from the car radio. Everything, everything stopped and began to move in slow motion when Charles, cautious, began to approach her while her gaze began to run a marathon between her lips and her eyes.

And then everything exploded, everything came to life again at a speed faster than the cars they drives for a living as soon as their lips collided. As cliche as it sounded, Arabella felt fireworks explode around her as the hand holding her chin slid to her throat, Charles's other hand wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. The hamburger she was holding in her hands fell to the ground when she let go of it to bring her hands to the boy's hair, she let out a moan into his mouth when the hand on her neck squeezed in response.

They broke apart as her lungs began to scream for air, Charles resting his forehead on hers before tucking an unruly lock of hair that was covering her face behind her ear. She watched him silently while trying to catch her breath.

He smiled, kissing her forehead to which she let out a sigh, closing her eyes. "This, for this we can get into trouble."

She felt him pull her lips away from her skin and almost moaned in protest but she decided to shut up when he brought their foreheads together again and looked at her so intensely that she felt like she could see into his soul.

“If I get into trouble for you, it's worth it. You are worth it”.

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader

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