#getting drinks with the guy from Saturday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

celestialgallaghers · 1 day ago

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White Mustang: Friday [18+]

final part omg. thank you so much for all the love and support of this series it really means a lot 💖. This isn't the end btw. I have an epilogue planned, but idk when it'll be posted. I wanna get back to writing about liam for a change lol. I hope you guys like it i had so much fun with this whole series <3.

Word count: 14.5k

Friday

The next day was sweltering. The kind of heat that clung to your skin and made the air feel thick. No one really had the motivation to do much, so eventually everyone ended up by the pool, stretched out under the sun with cold drinks in hand, slipping in and out the water to cool off.

You’d gone into town with Emily and come back armed with supplies for margaritas. By midafternoon, everyone was sun kissed and half-drunk, music drifting from the small speaker Emily had hooked up. Everything felt easy.

You were sitting cross legged in a pool chair, hair still damp, sunglasses sliding down your nose, sipping a margarita that was mostly just tequila at this point. Your dad and Noel were swapping stories, talking shit and laughing like they always did. You joined in when you could, but mostly you listened.

But beneath it all, you were hyper aware of every glance Noel threw your way. Especially when you climbed out of the pool, water trailing down your skin, bikini clinging to you, and the weight of his gaze tracked you. If he was trying to hide it, he was doing a piss poor job.

You weren’t sure if he was serious about “going easy” on him. You’d been half-joking when you said it but then he’d agreed. Maybe it was just his way of telling you not to be a tease.

You hadn’t been trying to. Not really. You weren’t doing anything different than you would’ve if he wasn’t here. It wasn’t your fault he couldn’t stop looking…okay, maybe a little bit was your fault. But he didn’t have to look.

When everyone’s drinks started running low, you slipped inside, grateful for a reason to cool off. You made your way into the kitchen and busied yourself slicing limes, the citrus sticking to your fingers.

You didn’t hear him at first. Not until his arms bracketed the counter on either side of you, caging you in. Your breath caught as his chest brushed your back, solid and sun warmed.

“You look so fuckin’ fit in that little bikini,” he murmured against the shell of your ear. His voice was low, stirring something deep in your core.

“It’s quite distracting,” he added, hips pressing lightly against the swell of your ass.

Your mind tried to remember where you were, who else was just outside. But all of that went fuzzy with him this close.

“We can’t do this here,” you whispered, glancing quickly toward the sliding glass door. Technically, you were out of sight. But anyone could wander in. And he wasn’t exactly being subtle.

He didn’t budge. “That’s what I said last night,” he said, amusement curling through his voice. “Didn’t stop you then.”

Heat flared in your cheeks. He wasn’t wrong. You’d been reckless. Desperate to feel him. And lucky no one had caught you. But still…

“It’s different now,” you said, the words thin, unconvincing even to yourself. “People are awake.”

“I know.” His voice was maddeningly calm, even as his hands slid from the counter to your waist, fingers grazing bare skin. Goosebumps chased their path.

Then, gently, he turned you. And just like that, you were face to face. Trapped in the full weight of his gaze. Those eyes gleamed with something unreadable.

Was he doing this on purpose? Trying to get you to break? And he’d had the nerve to call you the tease.

“Are you trying to get me to kiss you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, voice quiet. “Is that what this is?”

He just shrugged. Maybe he was. Maybe this was how he asked for it without the words. Or maybe he needed it just as badly as you did.

With one last glance toward the door, you gave him the smallest concession—a soft peck before you turned back around. That was all he was getting.

Or so you thought.

Before you could even exhale, his hands were on you again. Spinning you back around and pulling you into him. His mouth crashed onto yours with far more force this time..

You gasped as he hoisted you onto the counter, the cold surface biting into your thighs. You knew better. You knew someone could walk in. But your body had already decided. Every rational thought disintegrated the moment he touched you.

And he knew it too. You felt him grin against your mouth the moment you gave in. His hand slid around to the small of your back, pushing you closer as if there were any space left. But there was. Just enough that when you locked your legs around his waist and pulled him in, it knocked the breath out of him.

He faltered, just for a second. His lips broke from yours with the faintest hint of surprise before he recovered, slipping his tongue into your mouth with maddening ease.

The sudden intensity, the roughness, the heat of his mouth, it all had you immediately worked up and throbbing for him. And somewhere in the back of your mind a thought flickered.

By this time tomorrow he’ll be gone.

It only urged you to kiss him harder. Your hand slid into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. You felt the way he leaned into it and the quiet sigh he let out made your stomach flip. You’d noticed it last night. The way he responded to it. Filed it away. And now you were using it against him. The thrill of it made you bolder. You tightened your grip and gave a gentle tug.

The groan he let out was quiet but hot, going straight to your core. But then he pulled away, breath ghosting against your lips. “Thought you said you’d go easy on me.”

“Turn you on that much does it?” you teased, pulling a bit harder.

That earned you a look. He exhaled through his nose, clearly fighting back another noise, much to your dissatisfaction. But instead of answering, he stepped away entirely.

You blinked, breath still uneven. His gaze lingered on you. Flushed. Legs spread. Head tipped back against the cabinets like you’d already been wrecked by just a kiss. Maybe you had.

It was like he was memorizing it. Memorizing you. Maybe he was. Maybe he didn’t want to forget this either. You stared right back, trying to do the same.

Then, almost casually cruel, he let out a low chuckle, patted your thigh softly, and turned to walk out without another word.

You stared after him, dazed and buzzing. Your lips tingled. Your whole body tingled. And when you finally slid off the counter, your knees almost gave out.

You tried to refocus, staring at the half-sliced limes in front of you. But your hands were still shaking and your mind was nowhere near that kitchen. You nearly sliced your finger clean off.

Back outside, Noel acted like nothing had happened. If anything, he was staring more brazenly now. But you could feel the shift.

He’d done it on purpose. Wound you up and left you wanting.

You’d been doing so well too. So controlled. But now you were buzzing again, your heart beating too fast, mind fuzzy from the drink you’d downed the second you finished passing everyone else theirs.

You slipped back into the pool in silence, desperate for the cold shock of water to ease the heat. You let yourself drift, eyes closed, tuning out the murmur of voices nearby. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was still watching. You felt it. That slow burn of his gaze tracking your movements.

When you finally climbed out, you made it a point not to look at him. You toweled off slowly, letting the sun dry the rest, and made yourself your new drink. But even as you rejoined the others, you couldn’t shake the memory of his mouth. The phantom weight of his hands.

He looked entirely unbothered. Laughing at something your dad said, gesturing with his glass, legs stretched out like he hadn’t just had you pinned to the kitchen counter twenty minutes ago.

It was maddening. He was maddening.

The afternoon wore on and the heat was starting to hit everyone hard. Your dad retreated upstairs for a nap, Emily wandered off with a book, and suddenly it was just you and Noel.

You sat at the edge of the pool with your back to him, feet dangling in the water. You could hear the soft clink of ice in his glass behind you. The rustle of him shifting. And then the quiet creak of a chair.

Then came the faint splash as he settled beside you, slipping his feet into the pool too. A respectful distance away, but still close enough that you could feel the presence of him.

Your body tensed anyway. But he didn’t say anything. Not right away. For a moment, all you could hear was the gentle ripple of the water and the wind stirring the trees overhead.

“Funny how we keep ending up alone together,” Noel said eventually, his voice low, like it didn’t want to disturb the stillness.

“Funny how no one’s seemed to notice it either,” you said, still facing forward.

He gave a dry little laugh. “Nah. They’ve noticed. They just think we’ve got some sort of…special bond.”

That caught you off guard. You turned toward him, brows lifting in amusement. “Do we now?”

He met your eyes and bumped his knee lightly against yours. “’Course we do. We birthed an album together, didn’t we? Think that earns us some lifelong soul tie or summat. You owe me child support, by the way. I’ve raised it all these years on my own.”

You snorted. “So what, that makes you the mother?”

“Obviously,” he said, deadpan. “You inseminated me and ran off. Textbook absentee father behavior, by the way. Very progressive of you.”

It was so ridiculous that you laughed despite yourself. It cracked the tightness in your chest and sent something fluttering loose behind your ribs.

But then the laughter faded. Because your gaze caught on his mouth. Still curved in that lopsided grin. Lips wet from the beer he was sipping.

You wanted to kiss him again. God, you ached to. You’d been restless with it ever since he left you high and dry in the kitchen. It was reckless flirting like this out in the open where anyone could hear. But logic didn’t stand a chance.

Your eyes trailed to the bottle in his hand.

“Give us it,” you said, nodding towards it.

He followed your gaze then raised the bottle slightly. “What, this?”

You nodded, holding out your hand expectantly.

“No I don’t think I will,” he said smugly.

You leaned in to grab it, but he pulled it just out of reach, eyes gleaming as your fingers caught only air. You tried again and he stretched his arm higher, smirk deepening.

You made an annoyed sound. “Do you enjoy denying me things?”

A wicked grin spread across his face as he brought the bottle back to his lips, deliberately taking a long sip, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

You snatched it mid-sip, yanking it away with more force than intended. He choked on a laugh, a splash of beer dribbling down his chin as his head tipped back.

You turned your body away from him triumphantly and took an exaggerated swig. When he reached for it again you twisted further and drained what little was left out of spite.

Then you turned back to him slowly, victorious, and locked eyes. With pointed deliberation, you dragged your tongue along the rim of the bottle, gathering the last drops. You flicked your tongue over your lips to catch the rest, just to drive it home.

His gaze dropped and you felt it like a hand across your skin. “S’not very nice to finish a man's beer y’know.”

“It’s also not very nice to kiss someone and then walk away,” you shot back. “Leave them wanting all day.”

The tequila still hummed in your blood, leaving you loose tongued and wanton. A dangerous mix around him.

His mouth curled lazily. “You’re feisty today.”

“No,” you said plainly, tone flat and eyes steady. “I’m frustrated.”

He cocked his head, voice dropping low. “How frustrated?”

You held his gaze. “Frustrated enough that I had to lick every last drop of you off that bottle just to stop myself from sticking my tongue down your throat.”

That wiped the smirk clean off his face.

“And?” he asked, voice dark now. “Did it work? Are you satisfied?”

“Not even close.”

The air between you tightened, snapping taut with tension. His eyes dropped shamelessly to your chest, rising and falling with your uneven breath, while yours slid over the part in his shirt that exposed a tantalizing bit of skin. You felt feral with want. Feral and deeply, maddeningly denied.

You needed him again and badly. The only question now was whether his body could keep up with your hunger. You had to find out.

“I didn’t…” you hesitated, then forced the words out. “I didn’t go too hard on you last night, did I?”

His mouth curled. “So young and naive,” he murmured. “You gave it a valiant try, but no. Gonna take a hell of a lot more than that to break me.”

You knew he was teasing, but something about being called naive struck a nerve.

“Oh yeah?” You said, narrowing your eyes. “Can you even get it up again grandpa?”

He huffed out a laugh, clearly delighted. “Don’t act like you’re all high and mighty. We both know that you’d be on your knees in a heartbeat if I said the word.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“So eager to know when you can have another go.” he said, tilting his head. “Maybe I’ll just say no. Maybe I won’t let you.”

You hated the way your stomach dropped at that. And judging by the flicker in his expression, he saw it. He saw everything. His grin widened as your momentary panic gave you away.

“You wouldn’t,” you said, trying to sound dismissive.

“Try me.”

You locked eyes, refusing to blink. But the heat in his stare was unbearable. You looked away first.

“What if I don’t let you,” you said. Because it was the only thing you could think to say.

He leaned in until his breath ghosted your cheek, voice barely above a whisper. “Now we both know you love my dick too much to even try that.”

The words hit you like a slap. Heat rushed to your face. And then lower. You hated how much it turned you on. How much you liked hearing it. Hated that he knew it.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself, but your pulse was everywhere. Loud in your ears. Your throat. Between your legs.

He saw it. Felt the shift. And his grin turned wolfish. “No you can’t get enough of it, can you?” he murmured. “You love how deep I get inside you. I can feel it, you know. Feel how weak you get. How no one’s ever touched you like I have.”

You could barely breathe. He wouldn’t physically touch you here, but that wasn’t stopping him from caressing you with his words.

“Big talk for someone who came prematurely on my face like a teenager.” It was weak and that had been entirely your fault, but it was the only collateral you had.

He raised his eyebrows, grinning wider. “Because you couldn’t help yourself,” he said smoothly. “Couldn’t keep that mouth of yours to yourself.”

“Yeah?” you shot back. “You lost it after two strokes of my tongue.”

His grin widened into something smug and sinfully charming. “Don’t act like you didn’t love every second of it.”

Your breath caught. You had to get away from him. From this. Before you did something stupid. Like crawl into his lap, world be damned.

You leaned in, voice low enough for only him to hear. “I’m going to get in the shower,” you said. “You’re going to wait a respectable amount of time and then you’re going to follow me.”

He raised a brow. “Not sure you’re in the position to be making demands, love.”

But you were already on your feet, walking away.

The enclosed outdoor shower was warm and still. Steam curled up from the stone floor as you turned on the water, but you didn’t step beneath it. Instead, you lowered yourself onto the wooden bench and tried to steady your breathing.

Minutes passed. Maybe longer. The silence didn’t help. If anything it made the ache louder, pulsing through your body like a second heartbeat.

Maybe he wasn’t coming.

Your hand slid beneath your bikini bottoms before you could even think twice. Just to take the edge off, you told yourself.

The moment your fingers found that spot, relief bloomed through you. You leaned back against the wall, fingers circling, pressure growing. Your eyes fluttered shut. You were already so worked up from everything. His voice, his teasing, his refusal. Your legs fell further apart, pleasure shooting through your veins fast and sharp.

And then the door creaked.

Your eyes flew open just in time to see Noel slip inside, sans shirt. He froze, eyes locked on the spot where your hand disappeared beneath your swimsuit. His chest was rising and falling with shallow breaths, but the rest of him went still.

You didn’t stop. You met his stare, never breaking rhythm, and watched as his throat bobbed with a swallow.

“What are you doing?” he asked, low and careful.

“Taking matters into my own hands,” you said, voice breathy but confident.

The way his jaw clenched sent a fresh pulse of want through you. His eyes were heavy, tracking every movement. But he didn’t move.

So you pushed further.

You arched just enough to press deeper into your own touch, a quiet moan spilling from your lips. Then you used your free hand to tug your bikini top aside, baring one breast to the humid air. You ran your thumb across your nipple, gasping softly at the sensation.

Still nothing. Fine.

You dragged your fingers away from yourself, then reached for the tie at your hip and gave it a tug. The knot slipped loose. You mirrored the motion on the other side, teasing it undone until the fabric gave up and dropped, leaving you bare.

He still hadn’t moved. But his eyes were wild now.

You slid your fingers back through the slick between your thighs, slower this time, gathering everything you could with aching slowness. Then you raised your hand, lips parting slightly.

You didn’t put them in your mouth. Not yet. You were taunting him now and he knew it. His nostrils flare, fingers twitching at his sides. He only muttered a soft curse as he stared, transfixed. You brought your fingers closer, just enough to graze your bottom lip.

And that’s when he snapped.

In an instant, he was on you. One hand caught your wrist, the other grabbed your thigh, dragging you forward with a roughness that made your breath catch. Then his mouth closed over your fingers, sucking them in with a low moan like something inside him had finally, violently broken.

“Knew you were all talk,” you murmured smugly, right up until his mouth crashed against yours, swallowing the rest of the sentence.

It wasn’t gentle. You moaned into his mouth as he grabbed your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and forcing the taste of yourself onto your tongue.

Then he hauled you up from the bench, your bikini bottoms falling away completely as your body followed his. He pressed you against the damp wooden wall, its cool bite a stark contrast to the heat radiating off his skin.

You grinned against his mouth, fingers sliding into his hair again, this time fisting it and yanking hard. He hissed at the sting, then bit your lip in retaliation, eyes darkening. Your hand slid down between you, cupping him through his swim shorts. You paused when you found him soft.

“You really can’t get it up, can you?” you said, half teasing, half genuinely disappointed.

“Give it time love,” he said lowly. “You’ll regret saying that later.”

The confidence in his voice sent a shockwave through you. The way he said it, not a threat but a promise, had your breath catching, heat curling low in your belly. You opened your mouth for another jab—

But then his thumb brushed over your clit, and every thought shattered.

Your head hit the wall with a soft thud, eyes fluttering shut as your hips jerked into his hand. The touch was fleeting, barely there until he slid two fingers inside you.

You gasped. But then—nothing. No movement. Just the feeling of being filled. Your eyes snapped open in confusion.

“If you’re so eager to get yourself off,” he murmured, “go on, then. Do it.”

You froze. His eyes held yours, steady and unmoving. It wasn’t a dare. It was an instruction.

So you moved. Rocked your hips forward slowly, experimentally, grinding down and dragging yourself along his still fingers. The stretch was there, but the friction was barely noticeable. His expression didn’t change, except for the faint, devilish smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He wasn’t going to help. He wanted to watch.

His fingers didn’t curl or even offer the smallest thrust. He remained completely still. You shifted your hips in frustration, trying to spark something, but only managed the faintest flicker of pleasure.

Your other hand slid down, desperate to finish what he’d started, but he caught your wrist before you got close. You gasped, staring up at him, chest rising in shaky bursts.

So you tried again. This time with the hand tangled in his hair. You dragged it down, reaching between you.

But you were barely able to touch yourself before he wrenched his fingers from you entirely and slammed your wrists back against the wall. Your chest heaved, mouth parted in a mix of disbelief and need.

He grinned and leaned in close to your face, boxing you in. “Not so fast,” he whispered against your ear.

The quiet authority in his tone ignited your entire body. You hadn’t seen this side of him before, but now that it was here it made you thrum with hunger. You were ravenous for it, wishing you’d provoked it sooner.

You squirmed beneath his grip, chasing friction again.

“Tch,” he tutted. “Are you gonna behave?”

Something defiant flickered inside you, but it was quickly drowned out by how badly you needed more. You stilled, humbled by desire.

He grinned. “Good.”

He released one wrist, sliding his fingers back between your legs slowly. The relief made you tremble. When he let go of your other wrist, your hand rose to his neck to show that you weren’t going to act out again.

“Better,” he murmured, grazing your lips with his own.

You kissed him hard, gripping him tighter, rocking your hips against his hand. But the angle of his fingers was just shy of enough. The pressure only teased, coaxing your nerves to the edge without tipping them.

“At least angle your fingers better,” you whined after several minutes.

He laughed low in his throat, a sound that vibrated against your skin. “What, like this?”

He curled them hard. Right into that spot.

Your whole body convulsed. The breath punched out of you in a high, strangled moan as pleasure sliced through your belly and down your thighs. The buildup had been so excruciatingly slow that now the sensation came sharp and bright, dizzying in its intensity.

“Yeah,” you managed, grinding down again, more urgently now.

“All you had to do was ask.”

And then his fingers were pistoning harder, curling with ruthless precision, knocking the breath right out of you. You hoped the water drowned out the loud moan you let out, shivering violently as pleasure flooded your nerves. His lips quickly returned to yours to smother any more sounds as he went deeper, swallowing your gasps.

Your body arched, the tension winding tighter and tighter, seconds from snapping. Your legs began to tremble, and your grip on his neck tightened.

“Noel,” you gasped, barely coherent. You could feel it cresting right there.

And then he stopped. Just like that.

You choked on the denial, your body seizing up with it. Your climax had been so close, and now it twisted painfully inside you, caught mid-breath with nowhere to go. Your eyes flew open and locked onto him.

“You bastard,” you choked. His fingers remained still inside you, making the ache that much worse. Your walls fluttered around them, begging for movement, desperate to be finished, anything.

“Ooh,” he tsked. “That’s not very nice is it? Considering I’ve got your orgasm literally in the palm of my hand.”

You exhaled hard through your nose, trying to rut against his fingers. Trying anything for just a fraction of pleasure. But he stepped back and withdrew his fingers completely.

A pathetic whine escaped you. Your body bucked forward from the loss. Your arms fell to your sides as the ghost of pleasure throbbed through you with nowhere to go.

When you met his eyes again, the look nearly brought you to your knees. He was enjoying this. Too much.

“Look at you,” he murmured, dragging his wet fingers slowly down your inner thigh. The teasing path left goosebumps in its wake and you twitched at the contact, throat tight with a sound you refused to let out.

You glared at him, cheeks flushed. You weren’t sure if you wanted to slap him or kiss him until your lips went numb. Probably both.

“You’re cruel,” you said quietly.

He smiled at that, then gently but firmly grabbed your jaw, tilting your head back until your mouth parted. He pressed those same slick fingers against your lips, and you didn’t hesitate, letting him slide them past your tongue. He groaned low in his throat at the sight of your mouth closing around them.

“You really thought I was just gonna give in?” he murmured, pulling his fingers back. “After all that mouth earlier?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Then he stepped back again. Like he was done. Like he was going to leave.

You blinked, stunned. “You’re joking.”

No response.

“Fine,” you snapped, pulse thudding with rage and desperation. You slid your hand between your thighs, fingers sinking in easily, still warm and slick from him. The relief was instant, your body chasing the high it had been denied.

But you barely got into a rhythm before he spoke.

“Stop it.”

You ignored him, curling your fingers deep, pleasure returning like a tidal wave. Just a little more—

“I said stop.”

Suddenly he was in front of you again, yanking your wrist away. You wrestled your arm from his grip, fire burning in your chest.

“You can’t stop me from finishing myself off the minute you step out of this shower.”

He tilted his head, the curve of his mouth devilishly calm. “Can’t I?”

And god dammit, your body believed him, suddenly cold and dry. Already aching with loss. Like your nerves knew it was over before you did.

“You’ll get what you want,” he said, voice soft but edged with promise. “Eventually.”

Then he disappeared, leaving you alone with nothing but the sound of running water and the thrum of your pulse echoing in your ears.

That evening, the four of you got dressed up to go out. It was your dad’s idea. One final hurrah to celebrate before the trip came to a close. He picked a fancy rooftop bar downtown. One with panoramic views of the city and overpriced cocktails. You all agreed without much hesitation. Maybe it was the sun. Or the lingering tequila. Or that low hum of sadness that always comes with the end of something good.

You slipped into a black velvet dress—simple, but clinging in all the right places, the open back catching the breeze as you stepped into the night air. You weren’t dressing for him, not really, but you noticed the moment Noel’s gaze found you across the table. It lingered a beat too long before sliding away. A flicker of a smile tugged at your lips, but you fought it down.

You clinked glasses with Emily and threw yourself into conversation, a little guilty for how much of the trip you’d spent focused only on Noel. You rarely got this kind of time with her and she always managed to lift your mood.

Another drink in, your face was flushed with laughter, chest warm from gin. You were trying to stay present, to forget that everyone was leaving tomorrow. So you leaned into it. Let yourself forget, just a little longer.

Your dad was midway through one of his classic long winded stories, arms moving animatedly as he recalled something you’d heard countless times. You were laughing along when you felt the nudge of a knee against yours beneath the table.

The contact was soft but deliberate and you had to fight your instinct to flinch. Your eyes snapped across the table where Noel was now very pointedly not looking at you, his tongue sweeping slowly across his bottom lip like he was trying not to smile.

Prick.

You inhaled sharply and shifted your legs out of his reach. He was not doing this here. You were still on edge from earlier. Pissed at the way he’d pushed you to the brink and left you there. And now he was testing your boundaries again.

Part of you was dangerously close to snapping and kicking him in return. The other wanted to slide your foot up his thigh and make him squirm.

Before you could decide, the waitress returned with a fresh round. She placed Noel’s drink down last, lingering just a second too long, her eyes locked on his.

“Enjoy,” she said, sweet and just shy of suggestive.

Noel offered her a warm smile. “Cheers, love.”

She grinned, tucking her hair behind one ear as she turned away, glancing back once before disappearing.

You took a long sip of your drink. This was stupid. He was stupid. You weren’t going to rise to it. But Emily had no such restraint.

“Noel,” she teased, drawing out the vowels. “Last night, now’s your chance,” she said, nodding toward the retreating waitress with a raise of her eyebrows.

Noel smirked, but covered it quickly with a sip of his drink, swirling the ice.

“Nah,” he said with a faux considerate shrug. “She’s a bit young for me, don’t you think?”

Your blood turned icy. Whether it was an intentional jab or just a casual deflection, you felt it in your gut. And you hated that it landed.

Emily just shrugged. “Some women are into that.”

Noel chuckled under his breath and looked like he was fighting hard not to send a smug smirk your way. You, on the other hand, were staring daggers at him.

“Emily, please,” your dad said with a sigh, shaking his head. “Leave the man alone. He’s had it rough enough as it is.”

Then he turned to Noel, thoughtful now. “Though I will say, you do seem a hell of a lot more relaxed than when you first got here.”

Noel stiffened imperceptibly, but you caught the faint tension in his shoulders.

“S’pose so,” he said mildly, like it hadn't even occurred to him until now.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” your dad said, giving him a friendly clap on the back. “You’re welcome on any family trip from here on out, right girls?” He looked between you and Emily, clearly expecting enthusiastic agreement.

“Of course!” Emily said quickly, reaching across the table to pat Noel’s hand.

You were a beat too slow. The idea of Noel joining you on another trip was somewhere between absurd and thrilling.

“Right,” you said, trying to sound casual. But your pulse had quickened. Maybe next time he’d have his own room. Maybe there wouldn’t be so many stolen moments. Maybe—

“At least sound a bit more excited,” Noel cut in, grinning now. It was the first thing he’d directed at you all evening. His voice was light, but the undercurrent was unmistakable. Like he knew exactly what kind of thoughts you were having.

Your cheeks flared. “No, of course,” you said quickly, forcing brightness into your tone. “Definitely.”

Your dad beamed. “Well, I’m just happy we could be of service.”

You nearly choked on your drink. The phrase felt too pointed, your mind spinning with all the ways it could be interpreted. Then there was that knee knocking at yours again, lighter this time.

You coughed. “Food anyone?”

The rest of dinner went smoothly enough. Noel mercifully didn’t touch you again. But his gaze? That was another story. The weight of it kept you warmed despite the chill of the night.

It was maddening. And maddeningly effective.

By the time the plates were cleared and everyone had sipped the last of their drinks, your dad clapped his hands together, the way he always did when declaring something final.

“Right,” he said, rising from his chair. “We better head back. I haven’t even started packing.”

You and Emily murmured your agreement, chairs scraping back from the table, but Noel cut in casually, swirling the last of his drink.

“Go on without me,” he said. “Might catch up with a friend in town.”

Your stomach dipped before you could stop it.

Your dad just nodded, unfazed. “Alright, mate. Safe travels.”

You downed the rest of your drink, warm, too strong alcohol pooling at the bottom, and rose without looking in Noel’s direction. Your chair scraped a little too sharply across the floor.

You trailed after Emily and your dad through the restaurant, the city’s skyline glowing against the dark windows, too pretty for how sour you suddenly felt.

At the elevator, you offered a quiet excuse about needing the restroom and promised to meet them downstairs.

Inside, you stared at your reflection, only to find a bitter woman looking back. You closed your eyes and drew in a slow breath. He didn’t owe you anything. But that didn’t stop you from feeling disappointed.

Once you’d gathered yourself, you exited, smoothing your dress as you walked out. Then your eyes landed on Noel, leaning casually against the wall opposite the bathroom, arms crossed.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes narrowing.

“I thought you were meeting a friend,” you said slowly.

“I am,” he said evenly.

You blinked. Looked around the hall, empty but for the two of you.

He grinned, just a bit. “You’re the friend.”

Your stomach flipped. It was unexpectedly…sweet of him. The two of you hadn’t spent any time alone outside of the house. It was embarrassing how quickly your mood shifted.

You crossed your arms, mirroring his stance, rolling your eyes hard enough to sell some detachment. “You’re so stupid.”

“Come on then,” he said, pushing off the wall.

You hesitated, glancing toward the elevator where your dad and Emily were surely waiting.

“My dad and Emily—”

“Tell ‘em you went out,” he said casually. “Met up with that guy who gave you that.” He reached out and tapped your shoulder lightly, right where the faint trace of the mark he’d left was beginning to fade.

You swallowed. “Right.”

You fumbled for your phone and sent a quick text to Emily. Her response was almost immediate—some suggestive emojis. You smiled down at it despite yourself and slid your phone back into your bag.

When you looked up, Noel was still watching you, and the look on his face made it impossible to hide anything. He looked pleased. Too pleased.

“Where to?”

Noel took you to a cocktail lounge that felt entirely out of your league. It was the kind of place you wouldn’t have dared enter alone—dim and decadent, every detail curated to feel intimate and exclusive. The chandeliers above were antique and low, casting a warm amber glow that shimmered off cut glass and whispered of obscene price tags.

You tried not to gawk as you followed him through the room, head slightly down, eyes flicking across velvet booths and flickering candlelight. Music floated low, barely loud enough to hear, but enough to blur voices and hush the air.

Most of the tables were filled. Small clusters of people leaned in close, talking low. Couples sat with knees brushing, fingers idly tracing stems of half-empty glasses. A flush of something warm spread through your chest. He’d brought you here. Here, where he didn’t seem worried about being seen with you. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

He led you to a curved booth tucked into the far corner. The cushions were deep purple and the candle on the table was casting patterns across the marble. Noel slid in first, settling squarely in the center like he belonged there, arm draping across the backrest.

You hovered at the edge for a second before he patted the seat next to him. He seemed utterly relaxed. You weren’t sure why you weren’t. Maybe it was because you felt out of place.

You sat. Carefully. Not brushing too close, but close enough to feel the heat of his arm behind you, the ghost of his knee against yours.

The low light played off the sharp lines of his face, shadows catching in the hollows of his cheeks, tracing the bridge of his nose.

His eyes, half-lidded and unreadable, cut to you. You held the gaze. He smirked slowly, leaned in just enough that his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“It was such an effort to keep my hands to myself earlier,” he murmured. “Don’t shy away from me now.”

The words dropped like hot coals straight to your spine, melting through you. Such fierce want struck you all at once. And the way his fingers ghosted from the booth’s edge to your shoulder, playing with the velvet of your dress, told he’d seen every last bit of the effect he had on you.

You turned toward him slightly, your hand sliding to rest on his knee. Testing. He didn’t flinch. Just watched you, mouth curled into the faintest suggestion of amusement.

Your fingers drifted higher. “As long as I’m allowed the same courtesy,” you purred, letting your nails just barely graze the fabric.

His jaw flexed. A flicker passed behind his eyes. But you pulled your hand away before he could respond and reached instead for the wine list, pretending you hadn’t just watched his control waver.

He dropped his hand from your shoulder and leaned forward slightly, peering over your arm.

“That one,” he said, pointing to a wine you couldn’t pronounce and wouldn’t dare attempt.

You nodded faintly, and he flagged a waiter down. Moments later, your glasses were filled, the bottle left between you.

You raised your glass. He mirrored the gesture and you both drank, his eyes never leaving yours.

As you lowered your glass your lips parted to speak, but the words caught when his thumb reached out and brushed the corner of your mouth.

“Just wine,” he murmured. Then he lifted the same thumb to his lips and sucked it clean without ceremony.

Heat bloomed under your skin. The place he’d touched buzzed with warmth, almost embarrassingly sensitive. You blinked, trying to summon something to say, anything to match the casual boldness of the moment.

But he beat you to it.

“So tell me,” he said casually, “did you touch yourself after I left?”

You nearly choked on your drink. One sharp cough, and you turned your head toward him slowly. He didn’t look sheepish in the slightest, just smug. Like he was picturing you, desperate and spread open.

Your cheeks flushed, but you pushed down the embarrassment. He liked it. The idea of it.

You met his gaze, steadying your voice. “You tell me. Thought you were supposed to know these things.”

He smirked. “Oh, I know.” He paused, eyes flicking down your body like he could see through the dress. “Just wanted to hear you admit it.”

Your stomach fluttered, a little thrill twisting low. You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your pulse was drumming hard in your ears.

“And what if I did?” you asked quietly, eyes still locked on his. “What would you do about it?”

He swallowed once, throat bobbing visibly. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You turned away, lifting your glass again to buy yourself a moment. But he laughed softly, seeing right through you.

“Not so bold now, are we?”

He was too pleased with himself. The edge in his voice sparked something petty in you.

“I did,” you said coolly, lying straight to his face. “Right after you left.”

His expression faltered for the briefest second, But then it was back, lips curling into that familiar shape.

“Liar,” he said easily, taking another sip. “You’re too strung out right now. One touch and you'd come apart.”

You stiffened and tipped the last of your wine into your mouth, the rich taste lost on your tongue, too busy choking down your pride.

An hour later, your head was pleasantly fuzzy and Noel’s hand had found a home on your thigh.

His thumb traced slow, absent circles over the velvet of your dress, the bare skin just above your knee. Every pass sent a flicker of sensation through you, making it hard to focus on what he was saying.

He was leaning in close now, the wine having softened the sharper edges of his demeanor. You were learning something new about him. He was an affectionate drunk, handsy in just the right way. It suited him far too well. Made him feel even more dangerous.

But you didn’t mind. Not in the slightest.

The wine in your blood made everything feel just a little more possible. You shifted slightly, resting your arm along the back of the booth. Your fingertips grazed the nape of his neck, finding the soft hair there and you gave in to temptation, gently twisting a few strands between your fingers.

His thumb paused mid-stroke. Then continued, slower this time. With a little more pressure. The atmosphere between you shifted again.

You tilted your head and watched him, taking in his features. The face you knew too well now. The slope of his nose, the creases that held years of smirks and squints. He looked good like this. Shadowed and still with his hand on you like it belonged there.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” you said quietly, voice almost swallowed by the music and low hum of the room.

He turned to you fully, holding your gaze. “Nothing stopping you, love.”

A small smile pulled at your lips. “Really?” you asked, letting the tease flicker at the edge of your voice. “You don’t think I’m too young for you?”

It was soft, a callback to earlier. But something real lurked underneath it. Some note of insecurity you hadn’t meant to let slip.

His lips curled, eyes glinting. “Don’t you think I’m too old for you?”

You didn’t answer right away. Your fingers threaded deeper into his hair, nails grazing lightly against his scalp. You watched the way his lashes lowered, the way his breath caught subtly at the contact. It made your own heart stutter in response.

How could you explain that it wasn’t despite the age, but because of it? That it was in his calm steadiness, the depth in his eyes, the streaks of silver in his hair, the way he carried himself. Just him. All of him.

So instead of trying to say all that, you just smiled. You shook your head once. Let your eyes answer for you.

His gaze dropped to your mouth.

His hand rose, brushing a knuckle along your cheek before cupping your jaw. The warmth of his palm sent a shiver down your spine, the moment stretching just long enough for your breath to catch.

Then he kissed you.

It was warm and slow, lips plush and confident. He tasted like red wine and heat. You exhaled softly into him, eyes fluttering shut as your body leaned in instinctively, pulled by gravity or want. You couldn’t tell which.

Your hand tightened in his hair, fingernails grazing his scalp just enough to draw a low sound from him. One that made your heart thud against your ribs. You felt the sound more than heard it, a shiver that passed through his chest and into yours.

It was dizzying, how much of him you wanted. How much of yourself you were willing to give. When he finally pulled back, he lingered close, his breath warm against your cheek.

“I think we need to get out of here,” he said, voice husky. “Now.”

You barely heard him over the rush in your ears, but you didn’t need him to repeat it. Your entire body responded before your mouth could.

When he turned to flag down the waiter, his neck shifted beneath the open collar of his shirt, revealing a sliver of skin you had to physically stop yourself from sinking your teeth into.

It was an effort to keep quiet as the two of you stumbled through the front door, limbs tangled, laughter threatening to spill from your lips. Noel’s hands found your waist, firm and steady even in his wine loosened state, steering you forward with a few half-mumbled words that were probably meant to be reassuring but came out slurred with amusement.

You bent to kick off your heels, wobbling slightly. Noel crouched beside you, slowly unlacing his boots, and when he looked up at you from beneath his lashes—eyes warm, mouth slightly parted—your own mouth went dry.

Without a word, you turned on your heel and slipped down the hall. You left the door open behind you and began stripping off your dress.

Noel lingered in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame, eyes following every step.

“Bit presumptuous of you,” he said. “I was just coming to wish you a good night.”

Your lips twitched as you crossed the room. “Tell that to your dick,” you murmured, palming him through his trousers.

He stilled, breath hitching. His hands found your hips but you were already pulling him in. You walked him back until his shoulders bumped the door with a soft thud. One hand reached behind him to nudge it closed with a gentle click.

You didn’t immediately kiss him. Not yet. No you let him stand there as his breathing began to get more labored.

Then you leaned in to press slow kisses along the base of his neck. The spot you’d been thinking about all night. You could feel him go still beneath you. Then a soft shiver.

Encouraged, you brushed your lips lower, toward the hollow of his throat, catching the edge of his adam’s apple with your mouth. You parted your lips around it, sucking gently, feeling it vibrate beneath your lips as he let out a breathy laugh.

You wanted to leave a mark. Nearly did. But you made yourself pull back. Just for a second.

Then your hands found the buttons of his shirt. You worked them open one by one, mouth brushing over each new patch of skin revealed. His chest was warm beneath your palms, rising and falling unevenly as you slid your hands under the fabric—one over his stomach, the other around his back, pulling him closer.

He exhaled sharply through his nose as your teeth scraped the tender skin below his ear. When you finally pulled back, your breath caught.

God, he was gorgeous like this. Hair mussed. Shirt hanging open. Eyes dark and half-lidded, lashes lowered but still trained on you. Leaned back like that, against the door, he looked…undone.

And all yours. At least for the night.

His gaze dropped to your chest, where your bra still clung to your body. His thumb slipped beneath one strap and just…rested there, drawing slow circles against your skin. Not pulling. Just touching. The stillness that settled between you was heavy with heat.

Then he leaned in.

The kiss wasn’t urgent. It built gradually, like the first one you’d shared in this same spot only days ago. But this time he wouldn’t run away.

You melted into him, fingertips curling over his shoulders as you eased his shirt off. He shifted closer, deepening the kiss. Your hand trailed down his chest until your fingers brushed the waistband of his trousers. You scratched lightly along the skin just above, feeling his stomach tense beneath your touch.

Your fingers reached his belt, pausing to savor the anticipation. It wasn’t until he let out a quiet, broken sound against your lips that you moved again, the sound piercing straight through you. You nipped his bottom lip just enough to make him gasp softly, then slowly tugged the belt free.

Then your hand was slipping inside.

He was already halfway there, hot and heavy beneath your palm. You felt him twitch and it sent a jolt through you.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” you whispered teasingly, breath ghosting against his cheek.

His lips parted, ready with some cheeky reply, but whatever it was died the second your hand cupped him fully.

His head fell back against the door with a dull thud, his breath escaping him in a sharp exhale as your hand moved again, firmer this time.

You felt him swell in your palm, the heat of him almost burning, and something about the way his body reacted to you sent a flush of pride rolling through you. It felt like the entire day had been building to this. And now you finally had him.

He groaned low, hips rocking into your hand like he couldn’t help it. You felt the shudder ripple through him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, forehead pressing to yours, breath shaky and warm against your mouth. His eyes were nearly black now, pupils blown wide, the blue of them swallowed whole.

Just as your fingers slipped lower again, he flipped you around and pinned you against the door with a soft thud that managed to knock the air from your lungs.

One of his hands slid down the curve of your body to your bare thigh, fingers pressing into the soft skin before he lifted your leg and hooked it around his hip. The change made you gasp, the heat of him slotting perfectly against your core, even with the thin barrier of your underwear between you.

He’d let you play. Let you tease. But now that side of him, the one that had driven you mad earlier, was back.

He hiked your leg higher, grinding into you with purpose, and you choked out a sound as the pressure hit just right. Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails dragging lightly across his skin.

He dropped his head to your neck, open mouth dragging hot, messy kisses along your pulse point. The slight scrape of stubble, the warmth of his tongue, the barely contained noise in the back of his throat—it all hit you at once.

Your head lolled back against the door, eyes fluttering shut. But he caught your chin and guided your mouth back to his, pulling you in for a kiss that was all heat and hunger.

He groaned into your mouth, pinning you harder to the door. The wood dug into your spine but you didn’t care. Not when every point of contact between you burned too hot to feel anything else.

Your head was spinning. Partly from the alcohol, but mostly from him. You pulled back just enough to speak, breath catching.

“Noel,” you whispered, voice trembling with the ache he’d stirred up inside you. “I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

You hadn’t meant to sound so desperate. But it was true. He’d been teasing you, torturing you, winding you up all day and you needed him to do something about it. Now.

His hands cradled your jaw before sliding down to your hips, guiding you backwards. You moved with him until the backs of your knees hit the mattress.

“I promised I’d give you what you want, didn’t I?” he hummed.

His shirt was long forgotten on the floor. Your bra slipped from your shoulders, skin prickling as cool air hit the newly exposed flesh. You watched the shift in his expression as his eyes raked over you.

Then he was on you again, kissing you deeply. Your hands roamed greedily over his shoulders, his back, pulling him down with you until he hovered above, his mouth trailing hot kisses along your collarbone, your chest, lower. You gasped when his hand slipped beneath your panties, the first contact making your hips jolt.

His fingers were warm and rough and perfect. He dragged slow, devastating circles over your clit, teasing you with every press. You whimpered, hips lifting to chase more friction, but he didn’t rush.

He gathered your slick on his fingers, stroking through it before finally easing one finger inside. You clenched around him, a soft sound escaping your mouth before you could catch it.

“Christ, I’m gonna miss this,” he murmured against your skin.

The words landed hard in your chest. Whether he meant to say it or not, they cracked something open inside you. But you didn’t have time to dwell because then his middle finger joined the first, stretching you open. Your hands gripped his arms, needing something to hold onto.

Then he curled his fingers.

You let out a sharp, fractured breath, your spine arching as relief pulsed through you. He trailed hot, open kisses down your sternum, over the swell of your chest. Then his mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking gently before his tongue flicked in rhythm with the movement of his fingers.

You cried out, hips jerking upward as sensation surged through you. He was drawing it out on purpose, keeping you balanced on a knife’s edge. You dug your nails into his back, hard enough to make him hiss and pull away. But he was grinning now, proud and knowing.

You could picture how you looked to him. Flushed, half-naked, hair wild, chest heaving beneath him.

“If you don’t take those off right now…” you muttered, voice low and frayed, your eyes locked on the bulge in his trousers.

Noel gave you a wicked smirk. Desire burned in his eyes, but he still played coy. He leaned back just enough to make you think he was going to comply.

“These?” he asked, all mock innocence. His fly was already undone, belt hanging askew, but he only hooked a thumb in his waistband and didn’t move an inch.

Oh, he was evil.

You lunged, grabbing the band of his boxers just before he slipped out of reach. The elastic snapped back against his stomach with a sharp crack, and he laughed, low and delighted.

“Easy now,” he said, still grinning. “One might think you’re getting desperate.”

You glared, lips tight. “And if I say I am will it make you move any faster?”

He tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “No.”

You let out a dramatic groan and flopped back onto the mattress, the pillows rustling around you. Your patience was hanging by a thread.

Finally, you heard the soft creak of the mattress as he shifted his weight. You propped yourself up on your elbows just in time to see him slowly slide his trousers down.

He was down to his boxers now and for a moment all you could do was stare. It was ridiculous how good he looked. Your gaze dropped to the outline in his boxers, the clear strain of him, thick and heavy against the fabric, and you clenched, already feeling the phantom stretch.

Then he peeled those off too.

His cock sprang free, flushed and rigid, the sight of him stealing the breath from your lungs. You bit your lip hard, eyes locked on the way his hand curled around himself, stroking slowly. A tremor ran through him at the contact, his chest rising more sharply now. Your gaze finally dragged up to meet his and found him watching you just as intently. Roaming your body like he couldn’t choose where to settle first.

You slid your underwear off and tossed them aside. And just like that, you were both bare.

It struck you then—this was the first time you’d both been fully naked in front of each other. No clothes, no barriers. All the other times had been quick, frantic, with layers still clinging to your bodies. But this…this felt different.

Something shifted in your chest as you looked at him. Really looked at him. Just days ago, he’d stood in this room barely able to let himself kiss you. Now here he was, undone in front of you, completely exposed in more ways than one.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His hand fell away, and a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. You wondered if he was feeling it too. The weight of what this had become. The tenderness buried inside the lust.

You tugged lightly at his wrist and he came to you, settling onto the bed. His body hovered over yours for a moment and then he kissed you deep and slow, guiding you back down to the mattress.

His hand slid up your bare thigh, curling around it as he guided your leg over his hip again. This time, there was no barrier between you. The full heat of his skin against yours made your breath stutter in your throat. You could feel him hard against your hip and just like that the fierce heat was back with full force.

“I want you,” you whispered against his mouth. “All of you. Don’t hold back.”

He inhaled sharply through his nose.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded, lips brushing his. “I do.”

Before you could register it, he flipped you onto your stomach, hands firmly guiding your hips up beneath him.

The mattress dipped behind you as he settled into place. You braced yourself on your elbows, heart pounding in your ears. He lingered just behind you, not touching yet but close enough to make you ache. When he nudged your knees farther apart, a wave of vulnerability surged through you, tangled with anticipation.

His fingers slid between your legs and you flinched at the contact, pleasure shooting up your spine. His thumb dragged lazy circles over your clit making you shudder.

You were about to start begging when you felt him brushing against your entrance. Your whole body tensed in response.

One of his hands slid to your ass, fingers spreading you open as he lined himself up. He didn't rush. He let you feel every second of it. The tension was unbearable.

And then, finally, he pushed in.

You dropped your forehead to the mattress with a soundless cry. He filled you slowly, each inch claiming more space, more heat, more breath.

That familiar, intense stretch engulfed you, every nerve lit up. His groan rumbled through the quiet of the room and you felt the tremor of it in your own chest.

“Noel,” you gasped, voice broken and breathless.

He paused halfway, holding still so you could adjust. He wasn’t even fully in yet and you felt completely wrecked.

Then he moved deeper. He didn’t stop until he was all the way in, every inch of him buried inside.

The fullness, the heat, the pressure—it overwhelmed you. You felt your heartbeat pulsing between your legs, felt your body stretch and clench around him. After a few breaths, you pushed back, your hips seeking more, granting permission.

And he took it.

He pulled back slowly, almost all the way, before sliding in again. And again. And again. Each stroke built on the last, finding a rhythm. You met his thrusts eagerly, trying to draw him deeper, harder.

“More?” he panted, his voice choked.

You turned your head just enough to glimpse him. His hair was clinging to his forehead, jaw slack with pleasure, a flush rising along his neck and chest. You clenched around him, your body reacting to the sheer sight of him.

“I meant what I said,” you rasped. “Don’t hold back.”

Something shifted in his face. He pulled out suddenly with a hiss of breath and muttered something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch, then gripped your hips tighter and eased your knees even farther apart.

Your chest dropped to the mattress, spine arching. He had you fully bent over for him, wide open, and then—

He slammed back into you. Hard

You cried out, a sound torn from somewhere deep. It was equal parts shock and raw, pulsing pleasure.

His grip on your waist tightened and he began to fuck into you with unrelenting force, each thrust jolting you forward on the bed only for him to yank you back against him again. The wet, obscene rhythm of it filled the room. It was what you’d been aching for. What he’d been denying you all day.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat when he found that spot—deep and devastating. You writhed beneath him.

He paused, adjusted his angle slightly, then drove into you again. Right there. Again and again. He hammered into it with cruel precision, grinding his pelvis into you. Your thighs trembled under the pressure, knees nearly giving out. Your hands clawed at the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto.

You met each thrust, hips snapping back to meet his, desperate to keep up with the pace he set. The sounds coming from your mouth weren’t words anymore. Just broken, desperate noises that filled the air between you.

Then he buried himself deep and leaned over your back, pressing into you with a slow, grinding motion that made you whimper. His chest was hot against your spine, his breath burning your ear.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” he murmured, smug and wicked.

You gasped, lips trembling. “F-fuck you.”

He gave a low, amused hum. His hand slid into your hair, fingers curling at the base of your neck, and he pulled. Your head tipped back involuntarily, exposing your throat, your whole body bending to his control.

“If you insist,” he said, voice thick with heat.

And then he started again.

Using your hair as leverage, he pounded into you with a brutal rhythm that had you keening. The sharp tension at your scalp only heightened everything else. You’d never thought hair pulling would do anything for you, but now you understood. The heady mix of pleasure and pain had your nerves lit up like live wires. You were unraveling fast.

Choked moans tumbled from you in time with each thrust, body slick with sweat and heat. You could feel yourself tightening around him, pulsing at the edge of it. So close to breaking open you could hardly breathe.

And then he pulled out.

Your body convulsed with a helpless noise somewhere between a sob and a whine. No. Not again.

But his hand was already at your hip, nudging you to turn over. You moved without thought, breath ragged as your back sank into the pillow. You looked up at him, chest rising and falling in uneven waves.

“Surely you wouldn’t be so cruel as to do this to a lady twice in one day,” you managed, trying to keep your voice steady through your panting.

He met your gaze, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just wanted to watch you fall apart.”

You didn’t need the rest of the sentence to understand it.

One last time.

Something splintered in your chest at the thought. The tension between your bodies didn’t lessen, but it shifted. Slowed.

Your expression softened as he leaned down, his body settling over yours, guiding your thigh up around his waist. His hand traced along the outside of your leg and then he pressed back inside you.

You exhaled a trembling breath.

He moved carefully, rolling his hips deep and slow. You could tell he wanted to take his time. And you let him. Secretly, you wanted that too. Needed it.

He leaned over you, capturing your mouth again in a slow, languid kiss. Your mouths parted in sync, his hips moving in time with the gentle drag of his lips. You curled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until your bodies were nearly flush.

Your release built slowly and steadily, rising like a wave. It was deep and heavy and nothing like the frantic rush from before.

He was close too. You could feel it in the stutter of his hips, the tremor in his arms, the way his breathing grew shallow. His mouth dropped from yours, forehead pressing gently to yours as you stared at each other in the low light. His eyes were dark and heavy lidded, glassy with something he wouldn’t speak aloud.

It was too much. Too intimate.

It felt like making love.

And that thought alone undid you.

Your body clenched around him suddenly, your breath hitching as the tension finally broke. He followed, groaning deep in his chest as he drove in one last time and spilled inside you.

You trembled as your orgasm crested and rolled through you. It was a different kind of pleasure. It crept up slowly, radiating through your entire body. Not a sharp slam, but a powerful flood pulsing through your chest and limbs.

You shuddered, eyes fluttering shut as the last ripples passed through you, leaving you hollowed and heavy in the best way.

He stayed inside you for a moment longer, his breath hot against your cheek, before he gently eased out and collapsed beside you with a soft grunt, arm brushing yours.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. The silence was thick with everything you hadn’t said. Everything you couldn’t.

Your limbs felt too heavy to move, but when strength slowly returned you reached blindly for the first thing within reach, your soft sleep shirt, and wiped the mess between your legs. Without a word, you handed it over. He mumbled a half-slurred thank you before tossing the shirt across the room.

For a while, there was nothing. Just the sound of your breathing. The faint thump of your heart echoed in your ears. When you finally turned to look at him, he was asleep. His face was slack with exhaustion, the lines softened in the low light.

You knew you shouldn’t let him fall asleep here, but your own eyelids grew heavy, dragged down by the weight of everything—the wine, your body, what you’d just done. Just a few minutes, you told yourself, already fading. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Saturday (again)

You woke with a jolt, body tensing before your mind even caught up. Something was wrong. Or rather someone. The someone that was still in your bed, limbs tangled with yours. The sunlight was streaming in far too brightly for it to be anything but late morning.

You sat up quickly and instantly regretted it. A dull, unforgiving throb pounded behind your eyes as the hangover announced itself loud and clear. You winced and brought a hand to your temple, the stale taste of wine lingering in your mouth.

A sound came from the kitchen and your heart leapt into your through. Whoever was in there had a direct line of sight to the living room. And the couch that was supposed to be Noel’s bed. Which was still perfectly made and empty.

Fuck.

You hadn’t even had the presence of mind to fold it down last night to keep up appearances. You’d been too drunk, too caught up in the way he kissed you.

Your pulse spiked as you twisted toward him. He was lying on his stomach, dead asleep. Blissfully unaware. And still completely naked.

You weren’t faring much better.

Even in the haze of alarm, you caught yourself pausing, just for a second, to look at him. His hair was slightly mussed and he looked a bit scruffy. You felt a flash of something soft and warm and far too dangerous.

Another sound in the kitchen snapped you out of it.

You shook his shoulder. “Noel. Noel wake up.”

He groaned and stretched, his limbs sprawling lazily like a cat. You shook him again, more urgently this time.

“Noel get up.”

His eyes cracked open, bleary and slow to focus. He smiled sleepily at you, eyes drifting down to your bare chest, entirely unbothered. You look he was giving you made your face heat despite everything.

“Morning,” he rasped, voice still thick from sleep.

You stared at him.“We fell asleep. You need to get out of here. Now.”

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment before looking around and finally realizing the situation.

“Oh. Oh fuck.”

He threw the covers off, scrambling for his clothes in all directions. The same clothes he was in last night. Shit. This was just getting worse.

You pulled on the nearest shirt, only to spot a cum stain dead center on the front. A soft curse slipped from your lips as you yanked it off and shoved it beneath your pillow.

“No, you should wear that one,” Noel said from across the room, grinning as he fumbled with his buttons.

You shot him a glare. “Not in the mood.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, but his grin didn’t fade.

You ran a hand through your hand, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. Trying to think. The moment you opened that door you’d have to start lying through your teeth.

So much for a quiet last morning.

Noel was nearly dressed, shirt still wrinkled, belt halfway through the loops. You weren’t sure if the flush on your skin was from anxiety or the memory of his hands on you just hours ago.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

“We need a plan,” you said quickly, waving your hand like something would come to you. You started pacing, wracking your brain for plausible scenarios and alibis.

“Okay, okay—you need to go into the bathroom across the hall. Wait a minute. Then walk out like you’ve just woken up there. Greet whoever’s in the kitchen with a smile and absolutely no guilt whatsoever. You…you met someone last night. That’s it. You’re just now getting back. Which explains the clothes. And why you weren’t on the couch.”

You turned to him for input, for anything, but Noel just dragged a hand over his face, looking equal parts amused and exhausted.

Yeah,” he said slowly. “Sure. I can do that.”

He turned to leave, but you grabbed his arm before he could open the door. Your eyes scanned him quickly, checking for signs of you. No lipstick, no love bites, but his hair was a disaster. You reached up to smooth a wild piece sticking up at the crown of his head, but it stubbornly refused to lie flat.

His hand closed gently around your wrist and you stilled.

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you, soft and steadying. It was the kind of kiss that didn’t belong to a moment like this, but to a different timeline. One where you weren’t sneaking around, making up stories, or hiding any trace of your night together.

You started to pull away, but his hand came up to cup your cheek.

“Breathe,” he whispered. “If you look like you're hiding something, they'll know you are.”

Your throat tightened. You held his gaze, trying to memorize it. The blue of his eyes, the faint crease between his brows, the steadiness of his presence. You weren’t going to be this close to him again. Not like this.

You blinked rapidly and stepped back, breaking the spell. It was already fraying at the edges anyway. You sucked in a deep breath and gave a tiny nod.

Then he opened the door and slipped out.

You pressed your ear to the wood, breath held. You heard the soft creak of the bathroom door, the click of it closing and then opening again, and then his voice, light and casual.

“Mornin’, Emily.”

You let out a tiny breath of relief. At least it wasn’t your dad. Although Emily was more nosy.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to join the land of the living,” she chirped. “Where were you last night, hmm? Just now getting in?”

“With a friend.”

To his credit, Noel’s voice was smooth. Neutral. You’d believe him if you didn’t know better.

Emily wasn’t having it. “Uh-huh. And you’re still wearing the same clothes. Was it that waitress? Oh my god—it was, wasn’t it?”

Either he didn’t reply or just made some noncommittal gesture because you didn’t hear anything else.

You bit your nail, debating whether you should go out there now or wait a bit. But if there was one thing you knew about Emily, it was that she’d keep prying until she was satisfied.

You sucked in a breath and pushed the door open.

“Morning,” you mumbled, careful to keep your gaze anywhere but on Noel.

Emily turned, spatula in hand. “Morning,” she chirped, giving you a quick once over. “Oof, you look rough. Good night?”

Your pulse quickened, but you shot her a dry look. “Gee thanks Em.”

She tilted her head, feigning sympathy. “Oh no. Not good, was he?” she said, mock-coddling you like you were twelve and not trying to lie your way through a minefield.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from glancing over at Noel. You could feel his presence heavy in the room, but you didn’t dare look.

Emily crossed the kitchen in two strides and enveloped you in a hug, her arms wrapping tight around your shoulders. “My poor baby sister,” she cooed.

You stood there stiffly, letting her hold you until she started patting your hair like you were a dog.

“Alright get off me,” you said, wriggling out of her grip and pushing her back just enough to breathe.

She stepped away but not without narrowing her eyes a bit. Her gaze flicked over you again like she was searching for something before she turned back to the stove.

“You need a shower,” she said, her tone casual. Almost too casual. She slid a heaping plate of food toward you without another word. You gratefully took it and plopped down at the table.

Behind you, Noel had moved into the living room, rustling through his bag. When he straightened, he had a clean set of clothes in his hands.

“You can use it after me,” he said casually, already heading toward the hall.

“Try not to use all the hot water,” you called after him, aiming for breezy. Normal.

He gave a little laugh before disappearing around the corner.

You looked back at your plate, appetite wavering. You could feel Emily watching you, even if she pretended not to be.

“Was yacht boy really that bad,” she asked, voice light, “or did you just get absolutely wrecked last night?”

“Bit of both,” you lied, shrugging.

She hummed, unconvinced but not pressing. The two of you ate in silence for a few minutes.

“You sleep with him?”

You froze for a fraction of a second, your eyes flicking up to meet hers. Her voice had been too casual. Like she’d been working her way up to it.

“I…what?”

“Noel,” she said, enunciating his name. “Did you sleep with him?”

You nearly choked, the bite of food catching awkwardly in your throat. You coughed hard, head down, trying to buy yourself seconds to regroup.

When you finally managed to speak, your voice wobbled with forced amusement. “Why would you say that?” You even laughed a little, hoping it didn’t sound as false as it felt in your chest.

Emily didn’t smile. She didn’t even blink. “Dunno. Maybe because you smell like you’ve been bathing in his cologne.”

Shit.

You set your utensils down calmly. “And you’re jumping straight to me sleeping with him because of that?”

“Answer the question.” Her voice dropped. Quiet, but deadly serious.

That tone. You hated that tone. It always cut the deepest. Made you feel like a kid again, caught in a lie that hadn’t even fully formed.

You hesitated, heart pounding. Mercifully you were saved by Noel himself, emerging from his shower.

“All yours,” he said, oblivious to the sudden tension in the room.

You stood abruptly, scraping your chair back as you rose. Your eyes flicked to Emily once more. You hadn’t said anything, not exactly, but you knew it didn’t matter.

Not answering had said it all.

You stayed in the shower longer than you should’ve, trying to rinse away any lingering trace of him. Even though some part of you didn’t want to. You wanted to cling to every last bit of him. The scent on your skin. The feeling of his mouth on yours.

But clinging to it wouldn’t make it real any longer than it already had been.

You pressed your forehead to the tiled wall, contemplating what to tell Emily. All you knew was that you were well and truly fucked. Every possible version of the truth, or something close to it, seemed destined to crumble under her stare. She’d find the cracks.

You only stepped out when your fingers had pruned. You moved slowly as you toweled off, dressed, and made your way back across the hall. But when you opened the door, you stopped cold. Emily was sitting perched on the edge of your bed, arms crossed.

“Uh…hi Em can I help you?”

She didn’t smile. Not even a little bit. Just, “Your pillow smells like him. And your sheets reek of sex.”

Your stomach bottomed out. You went straight to deflection. It was all you had left.

“Why were you in here smelling my sheets you freak?”

She didn’t flinch. “And then there's this.”

From beneath your pillow, she pulled out your shirt. The one you’d tried to hide, stain front and center. Obvious. Damning.

You snatched it from her hand. “That’s private,” you muttered, folding it like that might somehow undo the damage. “Get out.”

“You’re not even gonna deny it?”

“Why should I?” The words came out flat. “You’ve already made up your mind.” You should’ve been panicking, but you knew it was over.

You expected her to yell. But she didn’t. She just stared at you, something hollow and quiet in her eyes.

“He’s Dad’s friend.”

You turned on her sharply.

“He’s my friend too,” you snapped, hating how childish it sounded. Then you lowered your voice. “It’s not like I planned this.”

She shook her head, disbelief thick in her voice. “He came here for a break. He’s in a vulnerable place. He’s twice your age. Recently divorced. Famous. Are you even thinking clearly? Did you even consider what would happen if this got out? Noel Gallagher, post-divorce, shacking up with some twenty something on holiday? Do you have any idea how that would look?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it again. You hadn’t thought about that. Not really. You hadn’t been anywhere public, not where anyone could’ve seen you…except last night.

Your stomach twisted.

“No one’s going to find out.”

Emily just stared, unreadable.

You stepped forward, trying to sound firmer than you felt. “Right, Emily? No one’s going to find out.”

She let out a slow breath. “I won’t tell Dad, if that’s what you’re asking.”

That small relief barely registered before she added, “He’d be even more disappointed than I am.”

That hurt. Your spine stiffened and you shot back without thinking.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? You were pushing both of us this entire trip. To ‘live a little’. But now you’re mad because it’s not someone you approve of?”

She shook her head. “It’s more than that and you know it.”

A silence settled between you. “Whatever,” you muttered, turning away. “It’s over now anyway.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” You didn’t mean for it to sound bitter, but it did.

“Just because you slept with him once doesn’t mean it won’t happen again.”

You didn’t answer. But that was answer enough.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, realization dawning. “It wasn’t just last night, was it?”

You hesitated. Then shook your head slowly.

“No.”

Emily stared like she didn’t recognize you. Like the pieces didn’t add up to the sister she thought she knew. “Does yacht boy even exist?”

You gave the barest shake of your head.

She scoffed. “That bite mark…jesus. I’m so stupid. I thought you were being secretive because you were embarrassed. Not because you were lying.”

“Just…don’t say anything to him. Please,” you murmured. “To Noel.”

She looked at you sharply, then softened. Barely. “I won’t. But only for his sake. He doesn’t need more shit in his life right now.”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.

“Thanks,” you said, barely audible.

She stepped toward the door but then hesitated. For a second, it looked like she might say something else. But then she seemed to think better of it. Her hand tightened on the knob, and she shut the door with a bit more force than necessary.

You stood frozen in the quiet that followed. Then you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. You refused to cry. Not over this. Not over him. Because if you did it would mean it wasn’t just some fleeting thing. It would mean it mattered.

You pressed your eyes shut and focused on breathing until the ache in your throat dulled to something more manageable.

At least for now.

You were stood in the living room, the weight of goodbye hanging heavy in the air. Noel’s flight was earlier than the rest of yours and now everyone was gathered to see him off. He was making light conversation with your dad, his hands shoved casually in his pockets, though you could see the tightness in his jaw.

Emily had put on a smile, but you could tell it was forced. You didn’t bother hiding anything at all.

When the car finally pulled up, Noel clapped your dad on the back, said something you didn’t catch. Then he turned to Emily, offering a brief hug. She returned it stiffly, murmuring a too bright goodbye.

Then his gaze slid to you and your stomach flipped helplessly. You hadn’t spoken much since the morning. As far as he knew, things were fine. As far as he knew, no one else knew.

His embrace lingered just a few seconds too long, just enough to make your heart twist. He smelled clean, familiar, like Noel, and you had to blink rapidly to keep yourself steady.

Over his shoulder, you met Emily’s gaze. Her expression was unreadable. Frustration, maybe. Maybe even something close to protectiveness

When he pulled back, he gave you a soft, private smile. You returned it, barely. Then he stepped outside, lifting one hand in a wave as he disappeared down the steps.

You stayed frozen until the sound of the car engine faded. Then you mumbled something about packing and slipped away before anyone could follow.

You’d packed in complete silence. It was a quiet sort of cruelty. Each piece of clothing now had a memory attached to it. Your bathing suits. Last night's dress. Your stupid stained t-shirt.

It was all bittersweet. You’d had him. If only for a few days, you had him. And yet you knew it was destined to be a temporary thing. You caught yourself staring at your bed and tried not to think about how soft his features had looked this morning.

You sat on the edge then slowly slid down until you were curled on your side. Emily had been right. The pillow really did smell like him. You let yourself breathe it in. Just once. Eyes shut tight.

You must’ve dozed off, because the next thing you heard was a gentle knock at your door.

“Cars gonna be here in thirty,” your dad said, poking his head in.

You sat up, scrubbing your hands over your face. “Okay.”

He lingered. “You alright, darling?”

You glanced toward the door, heart tight. “Yeah,” you said, forcing a faint smile into your voice. “Just tired. And I don’t wanna leave.”

He smiled warmly. “Me either.”

Thirty minutes later you were in the car, the house shrinking in the rear window. You watched it until it disappeared completely.

You tried to leave everything behind with it—the touches, the kisses, the rush. But your body still remembered. And so did your heart, stubborn as ever. You could still feel the weight of his hands on your skin. You could still feel him in your bones. In the parts of you he’d touched that had nothing to do with skin.

You leaned your forehead against the window, letting the cool glass ground you. A plane passed overhead and you wondered if he was on it. Already on his way back to a different life. One that didn’t include you. If he was thinking about you at all or just moving on the way you were supposed to.

You knew it couldn’t last. You knew it the second it began. And now it was over. Just a handful of days. You hadn’t meant to feel this much. But it happened anyway. Now all that was left was the ache in your chest, quiet and lingering. Like a bruise you couldn’t stop pressing. Not forever. But for a while.

It was a strange mix of sadness, gratitude, and something a little like grief. But no regrets. Not a single one. Not the sneaking around. Not the risk. Not even the way you let yourself want more knowing you wouldn’t get it. You’d do it all again. Just to have those moments. Even if they didn’t last.

You exhaled slowly and closed your eyes. You still wanted more. And maybe he did too. Maybe not. That’s what killed you the most. Not knowing. Not being able to ask.

Part of you hoped. Clung to the looks you’d shared. You wouldn’t reach out when you got back. You couldn’t. That had to be his decision.

And deep down, you knew it was wishful thinking. To believe he’d think of you again. Not like that. Given the circumstances. Given everything.

But that would never stop you from leaving a little space carved out for him. Just in case.

Even if it hurt.

#noel gallagher fic #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher x you #noel gallagher smut #noel gallagher

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yuh13lo · 2 days ago

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Distraction | chris sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo was a frat boy, sure—loud laugh, backwards cap, always the first to call “shots?” on a Tuesday. But he was also the captain of the hockey team, the kind of guy who could go from buzzed and belligerent at a party to dead-serious and terrifyingly focused on the ice. Girls wanted him. Professors tolerated him. And no one ever saw him look at anyone the way he looked at her.

You.

The school’s sweetheart. The girl who somehow sat front row in every class and ran the campus magazine’s photo section. You weren’t loud. You weren’t shy either. You were just… sharp. The kind of girl who noticed things, especially through the lens of a camera. And unfortunately for you, Chris had requested—insisted—that you be the team photographer for the season.

It started as just work. You hated it. Not because you didn’t love photographing sports—but because Chris made it impossible to focus.

The shutter clicked fast. You crouched behind the glass as the boys ran drills, your breath fogging the edge of your lens. You’d caught two photos of #27 mid-sprint, then three of #91 mid-pass.

Then there was Chris—#3.

He skated to a stop, catching you off-guard as his eyes met yours through the glass. He smirked.

You dropped your camera slightly.

“Get my good side?” he mouthed.

You raised an eyebrow and lifted the camera again, but instead of snapping the picture, you lowered it. “There is no good side,” you mouthed back.

Chris grinned, then turned on his skates and burst into motion, leaving a spray of ice in your direction.

It was a Saturday. You didn’t usually go to frat parties, but your roommate had dragged you here with promises of “free drinks and good lighting.” You’d brought your Polaroid camera. Habit, maybe. Maybe hope.

The house was glowing under string lights and cheap LED strips, pulsing with music. You were in the kitchen when he found you—Chris, in a grey hoodie, backwards cap, a Solo cup in hand.

“You made it,” he said, sounding a little too pleased.

“Yeah,” you said, not smiling, “figured I’d document the chaos.”

He leaned down, too close, eyes flicking to your camera. “You taking pictures of me tonight, too?”

“Depends. Are you planning on doing something worth remembering?”

A beat. Chris looked at you like he might say something else—but instead, he just nodded once and walked away.

You hated the way your stomach flipped.

It was late. Too late. You’d stayed behind after practice to sort through photos. Chris had stayed too—for “captain duties,” whatever those were.

You hadn’t expected him to walk you home.

“Why do you hate me?” he asked casually, hands in his coat pockets, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You definitely don’t like me.”

“That’s not true either,” you replied, not meeting his eyes. “You’re just… a distraction.”

Chris stopped walking.

You turned to look at him, startled by the silence. He stepped forward, close enough to see the flecks of amber in his eyes.

“I’m a distraction?”

You hesitated. “You’re loud. You flirt with everything. You treat every day like a game.”

“And what if I told you I don’t want to play games with you?”

The air shifted. A dog barked somewhere down the street. Your camera bag felt heavy across your shoulder.

“Then maybe I’d stop trying to act like I don’t notice when you look at me during practice,” you whispered.

Chris stepped closer. “You notice that?”

You nodded, barely. “Everyone notices it.”

You were developing film late on a Thursday. The art building was silent except for the faint buzz of fluorescent lights. You weren’t expecting the knock on the door—or for Chris to step inside, holding something behind his back.

“I brought you something,” he said.

“What, another terrible pick-up line?”

He pulled out a stack of Polaroids.

Your Polaroids.

From the party.

He’d found them. Held onto them. Looked at them, clearly.

“I like the way you see things,” he said, stepping into the red light glow. “I like the way you see me.”

Your breath caught.

“I didn’t mean to make this complicated,” he said quietly, brushing a curl from your face. “But I think about you. Every game. Every time I lace up. Every night I close my eyes.”

And you believed him.

You stepped into him before you could talk yourself out of it, fingers curling into the hem of his hoodie, camera nearly slipping from your neck.

“Then stop being a distraction,” you whispered against his jaw. “And start being real.”

Chris kissed you like he meant it. Like he was tired of looking at you across the ice, tired of pretending. And in the dim light of the darkroom, surrounded by photos of a hundred other people, he finally let himself fall.

A month later, someone opened Chris’s locker and found a print tacked to the inside.

It was a photo of him, not in a game, not on the ice—but sitting in the bleachers, looking toward the camera like he was waiting for someone.

Someone had written underneath it, in tiny black ink:

“Maybe you’re my favorite focus.”

And no one saw Chris smile quite like that again—unless you were standing right beside him.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #madison beer #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #madi filipowicz

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eeejay · 5 days ago

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#getting drinks with the guy from Saturday #hes sooooo hot and sooooo nice what the hell #and its helpful cause its helping me move on from my unrequited crush that was truly tearing me apart #because he was someone who i seriously considered a good friend #although i will still fuck that friend cause hes really hot and we have really good chemistry #but my heart is starting to find another!!#who knows #i WILL say that the guy from saturday #we can call him... jock guy because he plays like 3 intramural sports #jock guy does strike me as a bit normie #but like we shall see #maybe he will surprise me

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thevaudevillescene · 25 days ago

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Last Friday, work was much busier than it was on Saturday, we had a full dining room and takeout orders were coming in nonstop, the expo board was loaded with tickets on top of tickets. Vince was on pizzas and to kick off the season, he had his first summer meltdown. He’d asked me to bring him a Diet Coke with no ice and in the time it took me to walk from the pizza oven to the soda machine, this man absolutely lost his shit and was yelling so loud, then he doubled over laughing and said, “God, I’m SO fucking angry right now, all I can do is laugh.” I backed out of the kitchen and said to another server, “I need a second before I bring Vince his Diet Coke because I think he might actually kill me.” I did NOT make eye contact when I brought it to him and I heard him say, “Oh, I forgot about this. Thank you!”

Once it slowed down, he left pizzas and disappeared outside for about thirty minutes. When he came back in to say good night, he fist bumped me and said, “Sorry about earlier, I shouldn’t have lost my cool like that. It’s just, I get so frustrated, you know? But I shouldn’t take it out on anybody else. But. You know what it’s like, in the…in the biz. The restaurant biz.” I looked at him for a second, then I was like, “Vince, are you high?” He was like, “What? What makes you say that? Nooo.” Right after, he started laughing so hard, and he went, “Ah shit, I hate holiday weekends. Great job tonight, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe.” I said, “Maybe?” He said, “I might just blow my brains out when I get home, I haven’t decided yet.” He fist bumped me again and left.

I wonder sometimes if working in restaurants makes people go insane, or if the people who work there are already unhinged and it just gets exacerbated. I had a guy at a table one time say, “I used to work in a restaurant but everybody was so weird. You seem normal. Has it not gotten to you yet?” I said, “Oh, it’s gotten to me, all right. I am very much not normal.”

#there’s a new salad guy named nate who is so pretty and has these delicate soft brown doe eyes #he was too nervous to barge in at the soda machine while we were all getting drinks so he filled his cup from the tap #i was like ‘nate that’s sink water. you’re special enough to get the cold filtered shit from the fountain.’#he was like ‘i don’t wanna be in the way.’#he had to go home early saturday because he had a panic attack and gabe was like ‘i dunno if that kid’s coming back. 86 nate.’

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pear1ridge · 2 years ago

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the states dont have crate day how am i supposed to explain what kind of guy wiremu is when u dont understand what it means to be a Crate Day Guy

#its the first saturday of december (first saturday of summer in nz) and u buy a crate of beer #(24x 750ml bottles) and u have from noon until midnight to finish them (2 bottles an hour)#it is a Nightmare of a time bc people obviously get way too drunk and a Lot of people can not drink that much #in general let alone in the time limit #so mostly people will share crates or at least my friends tend to #but like. there are the kind of guys who are always Pumped for crate day and go super hard and i think wiremus like that #hes a very. hes a casual beer drinker in the way a Lot of people in nz are (read: borderline alcoholics)#but hes a bigger guy w a high tolerance so he very rarely gets hammered #wiremu: headcanons.

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g-k444 · 5 months ago

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Going to a party this Saturday. Push up bra, low waisted jeans w my thong's straps visible as they encompass the fat of my hips and show beneath my cropped v-neck

oh all the whorish things i could do

suck a dick in the next room, get fingered upstairs, even makeout in the same room as everyone else

but what are all the whorish things that everyone could do to me?

you know, when i cant find my phone and am struggling to walk from one side of the room to the other so that i can find it and call and uber and end this godforsaken party by going to bed...

everyone's begun trickling out and it's just the host and a couple of his mates who are staying the night, now, waving the last guy out and giving a girl her bag before her friend drives them home.

then the man helping me find my phone turns on my the minute the front door is locked.

"C'mon guys, get her upstairs"

I'm barely in control of my body - my force weakened as i struggle against the arms that hold either side of my body and strongly walk me to the stairs

but i cant make it up.

my body collapses into the stairs and a groan leaves my mouth. i want to leave; i dont want to go upstairs with these boys. i cant even make it up the stairs. my body is too weak from the alcohol of too many drinks to count over the course of the night.

"You aren't going to come up? We're being nice to you here trying to take you to a bed but you're gonna resist? fine, fuck you, you can take it on the stairs instead like the bitch you are."

there isn't a flat surface to lean my head back against, a man's hips hammering his cock into my mouth as my head limps rests against the edge of the stair, mouth loose and motionless, groaning around his cock lowly as he uses my orifices

i can feel and hear two others spitting on my pussy and dragging it over my folds and playing with my pussy for their entertainment. Pushing a flap left and right to toy with a pussy that wasn't being protected by a sober, private girl like i would normally be.

I could feel their spit dripping from over my pussy to my asshole, and before i knew it I could feel either hole being penetrated - my body manhandled into a better position whilst no no nononoNO'S- left my mouth at the thickness of the cock that began moving mercilessly in my tight hole, balls slapping against my skin as if bruising my self-worth

"God, you gotta see her tits swinging when you fuck her - lemme take a vid to remember - that's gotta be the most shamelessly whorey pair i've ever seen..."

I tried to cover my face with a face, but the hand beneath me gave out instead, and so my body collapsed into the stairs beneath my body. The man holding the camera courteously picked me up and held my up by a shoulder so that my tits still swung for the camera in front.

"Sent to the groupchat, they're replying... Yep, they appreciate the view just as much."

Another cry left my mouth and I felt something tap against my cheek to shut me up. Someone yielded their hard cock in their hand, and appeared to have slapped it against my face to shut me up. I tried to open my mouth to let them just put it in - my drunken brain not working for itself as it urged me to let the man get his release in my mouth

but instead, he continued to keep rubbing his shaft over my face - letting the tip rub against the socket of my eye and the length press into my cheek, letting it movie over either of my wet lips

"Oh the boys in the groupchat really like it. They say they're comin' over in 5 to get some themselves. Hope you're ready for a good long night tonight bitch, because you aren't gonna be able to walk out the door tomorrow morning. Oh no, we're gonna fuck you dumb tonight, then use your broken-bitch body to get us off tomorrow morning, too."

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moody-alcoholic · 6 months ago

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CW: stalking behaviour, over protective 141, fluff.

“See her coming out now.” Ghost says over the radio.

“Afirm.” Soap’s voice comes back almost instantly. Ghost watches as you stumble over the pavement, pulling your jacket over your shoulders. It’s almost 3am, and most clubs are closing. The friend you came out with left an hour ago. Now you’re alone, drunk, swaying through the streets of London on a busy Saturday night.

“Watch your distance Soap, no need to spook her.” Price says.

“Copy.” Soap says as he weaves his way through the crowd of clubbers spilling out of the various nightclubs and bars. He keeps his head low, making sure to keep a safe distance from you. They’re not going to lose sight of you though. That’s what Ghost is for.

He slips between the crowds on the other side of the street, slipping into the shadows every opportunity he gets.

“She’ll take the next right. Don’t lose her.” Price says as you pick up your pace slightly. He’ll be driving to the next location, ready to pick you up at a moment's notice. You pull your phone out, typing while you struggle to keep your balance. Ghost lost track of how many drinks you had.

It was a celebration after all, your friend getting a big promotion, she took you to one of the fanciest bars in the city. Even though she left early you still seemed to be having fun, helping yourself to another drink before finally deciding to call it a night.

The streets off the main road are darker, quieter. Less room for error.

Suddenly you make a sharp turn, almost throwing your body down a dark alleyway. Ghost’s lost visual, he speeds up his strides, he has no idea if the alley is a dead end or not.

“Soap, don’t lose her.” Ghost orders panic building in his chest. There’s no reply, now Ghost can’t even see Soap. “Soap, confirm visual on the target.”

Ghost jogs to the next street over, nothing but shuttered buildings and the odd person heading home.

“Stand-by.” The seconds feel like they’re ticking on for hours. “Eyes on target, she’s-”

The line goes silent.

“She’s just throwing up, seems like she’s had a few too many.” Soap says. Ghost can almost hear the collective sigh as he slips back into the darkness waiting for you to emerge from the alley. When you do you seem even more unsteady on your feet.

“Keep it tight, she’s got another main strip to cross.” Price says. He’ll be moving on already. The amount of times you’ve walked this route. The amount of times they’ve practiced this route, it’s almost like a rehearsed play they could do in their sleep.

You move on weaving through the growing crowds of the next cluster of clubs. They seem busier than the last. You work through them quickly, Soap keeping his distance, pushing through people without a care. He has one motive, one mission; never lose sight of you.

As you make it to the quieter end of the street a group of lads cat-call you. You brush it off waving at them as you skip over to the next turn. Almost home.

“ETA 10 minutes.” Ghost says hugging the shadows on the opposite side of the street.

“Copy,” Price says, he will be in his final position. For the next few minutes the walk goes smoothly, you’re almost home, almost safe.

“Got a guy on her six, just overtook me.” Soap says. Ghost’s eyes flick over in an instant.

“I see.” Ghost says, watching as the man’s pace slows. “Hang back Soap. I got eyes.”

Ghost doesn’t even hear a reply, his eyes digging into the man now following a few steps behind you. You seem to notice too, quickly taking a peak over your shoulder, pulling your jacket around you tighter. You’re almost there, almost home.

“Want me to grab him?” Soap asks. As he says it you pick up your speed, your body straightens up.

“Negative.”

You turn into the front garden of the house, shutting the gate behind you. The hairs rise on the back of your neck as you fumble with the key pressing it into the lock and opening the door. The feeling of being followed suddenly fades as you make it inside, locking the door behind you.

“Hey, welcome home.” Kyle says, sticking his head out the kitchen. You smile walking over to him and wrapping your hands around his neck.

“It’s late, you didn’t have to wait up.” you say pressing your lips on his. He kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist.

“Needed to make sure you got home safe.” You hear John say. You break from the kiss looking over at him sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in front of him. You walk over wrapping your arms around him from behind squeezing him.

The smell of tea fills your nose and makes you thirsty.

“Cuppa? Or bed?” Kyle asks, walking over, placing his hand on the small of your back. You hum looking round the kitchen.

“Where’s Johnny and Simon?” You ask.

“Sleeping, they’re not used to staying up as late as you are.” John chuckles. You smile looking up at Kyle.

“Bed.” You say. He smiles back at you kissing the top of your head.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a hand.” Kyle says pulling on your waist turning you to the stairs. John hears you giggling as you stumble up the steps to the first floor. A few seconds later the back door slowly opens, Johnny and Simon slipping in. John raises an eyebrow, quickly checking behind him to make sure you’re definitely gone.

“You better hurry up, I’m pretty sure she’s looking to climb into your bed tonight.” John says as Simon and Johnny look at eachother. Johnny's smiles, taking his coat off and leaving his radio on the kitchen island.

“Get some rest cap, you look exhausted.” Johnny says, patting him on the shoulder as he passes him. John sighs looking up at Simon.

“Another successful night.” John says as Simon puts his radio down.

“Always.” Simon smiles.

_______ What if something went wrong?

👏zero👏self👏control👏

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suncoved · 6 months ago

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OVERPROTECTIVE! — RAFE CAMERON (smut 18+, mdni.)

pairing; dealer!rafe cameron x toppersister!reader

summary: when your friend dragged you to the cut of one of the pouges infamous keggers, you didn't expect to be dragged home by your brothers dealer best friend.

warnings: kinda innocent!reader, talk of drugs, partying and drinking. smut 18+ only please please! (haven't proof read...)

"this is such a bad idea" you murmured quietly, glancing across at the boneyard from your friend kate's pristine white jeep.

"oh cmon, it'll be fun. and anyways, how could your brother find you all the way out here. he would rather die than set foot on the cut" kate rambled, yanking out of the car while her heels made a crunching sound against the gravel of the carpark.

on the ride over from figure eight, you had gnawed at your bottom lip so hard you wouldn't be surprised if you drew blood. topper would have actually killed you if he found out what you were doing.

you had been to parties on your side of the island before, and even those made your brother mad, but never had you stepped foot at a kegger on the cut.

but, here you were at 11:15 on a saturday night, about to 100 per cent regret every decision you had ever made that led to this. but it was your senior year! and you were sick and tired of letting topper dictate what you did and didn't do.

you had come to the realisation that you weren't really sure why topper cared so much about what you did. i mean sure he was your twin brother, who would never make you forget how he was in fact 2 minutes older, but he had never really cared what you did before.

i mean sure, you guys were close and he cared if you were safe or not, but it was only really until he became closer with his friend rafe that he started getting really, really overprotective.

rafe had been lurking around your house since you were little, always bossing topper around and annoying that absolute shit out of you. but never saying any more than one word to you before pulling topper into any mess he was about to get into.

"cmon cmon, lets go party!" kate exclaimed, pulling you out of your thoughts and also onto the soft sand of the boneyard.

it was safe to say that this party was far from the ones you had witnessed before. there were people do coke on any surface you could see, the distinct smell of weed filling your nostrils and kegs upon kegs lined up against the fallen branches.

"miss thorton! what brings you around my neck of the woods!?" you hear a voice yell behind you before an arm is slung quickly around your shoulder.

"shush jj! im undercover" you joke, pushing your perfecting manicured finger against your lips. "whoops! my bad princess" he slurred, swaying against your body as he pushed more and more of his weight onto you.

you giggled, swiftly setting him down on the sand before he made you topple over. "he'll be fine, just needs a little rest" john b beams to you, passing you a red solo cup full of suspicious liquid before you could decline.

you smiled at him and held the cup weighing heavily in your hand, noticing kate was long gone from your side. you looked around nervously, what were you doing?

you didn't drink, you didn't do drugs, you didn't party.

you were the classic good girl of kildare county, and your skirt was way to precious to you to get anything spilt on it. but you were here, so why don't you just enjoy yourself right?

you looked down at the liquid in the cup, it fizzing and foaming as it stared back at you. you took a cautionary sip before nearly gagging, the acid making its way down your throat.

"yuck!" you whispered to yourself, pulling a face as you rested the cup down on a branch so someone could pick it up later.

the music pumped in your ears, people dancing and swaying on the shore of the beach as the lights of the street only dimly lit the area up.

you heard your name being yelled behind you as kate embraced you in a hug, swaying and smelling of weed. "i have to introduce you to someone, apparently he sells the best weed on the island! why don't you try some! but shush let's not tell your brother" she slurred her words as she rambled on, pulling you across the sand into the crowd of people.

"you know kate, i don't think this is the best idea" you muttered, letting her guide you where the music was louder and the smell was far more intense.

"it will be fun! and we can tell him its your first time! i mean apparently, he is not a nice guy but you have a knack for changing that about people!" you rolled your eyes at her babble, your feet suddenly stopping once you had arrived at your apparent destination.

you were still hidden behind kate as she approached the man sitting on a broken branch, his legs spread wide and hands sifting through money.

"hey! my friend really wants to try your stuff, think you could help us out?" kate asked, pulling you out from behind her as a small gasp left your lips.

"y/n? what the fuck are you doing here!" rafe spat, gathering all his cash and baggies and stuffing them in his pocket. "you two know each other?"

you shifted your eyes from his angered face, jaw clenching and fists bunched tightly together.

"yeah, and you're an idiot for bringing her here. get the fuck outta my face. cmon" rafe gestured to you, taking your hand in his and leading you to the car park.

you looked back at kate before staring at rafe in front of you, unable to fight against his grip. you had been at this party all of 20 minutes and all you had done is be dragged around before having to go home!

"rafe stop!" you exclaimed as he pulled you up the beach and towards his blue truck in the car park.

how did you not notice that?

"what the heck are you doing?" you asked, him swinging the passenger door open for you as you stared at him like he was an idiot.

"get in." he said, running lifting his arms up to run his hands through his hair as you noticed a gun tucked into his waistband.

what in the actual fuck was happening?

"what! no way! since when do you deal drugs and carry guns? i don't even know who you are anymore and there is no way i'm getting into your car with you."

he rolled his eyes at you statement, putting his ringed hands against your waist and lifting you into his car effortlessly.

you huffed as he smiled at you sarcastically before closing the passenger door and jumping into the driver's side.

he looked at you expectingly as you stared at his face, his eyes a beautiful shade of blue and his lips pink. he rolled his eyes once again before reaching over and doing up your seat belt for you, his touch making goosebumps on your cleavage as he fastened it.

you sat in silence for a second before he started driving in the direction of figure eight, his large hands gripping tightly on the wheel.

"what were you actually fucking thinking? going to a party on the cut, who knows what could have happened to you if i wasn't there" rafe spat, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to look at you before turning his head back.

"what does it matter to you rafe, i just wanted to have fun and i don't regret it. so tell topper i don't care." you huffed, sinking into your seat, not even believing the words coming out of your own mouth.

"like topper would care anyways" he stated, clenching his jaw so hard you thought it would actually break. "what?"

"toppers not the one that cares." you looked at him dumbfounded, taken aback by his statement. "what do you mean rafe?"

he ignored your statement as he kept driving into the night, the uneasy silence resting heavily in the air. you tapped your fingers against the armrest, watching the trees blur into a haze of green before tannyhill came into view.

"i thought you were taking me home?" you asked, your question again going unanswered until the car came to a halt.

"you're staying at mine, get out." he huffed, walking around the car before swinging your door open and helping you down.

"why would i stay at yours? you're my twin brother's best friend. stop being an idiot rafe" you huffed, halting your movements and staying right out the front of his door.

"you're not the one to be calling shots" rafe said, once again pulling you by the hand up to his room. before you could think he sat you down softly on his bed, kneeling down to look you in the eyes as if to see if you were high or not.

"go away, i'm not high. and you do not have the moral high ground right now"

"shut up" he sighs, resting his large hands down on your bare thighs. "what?" you gasp, ready to smack his touch away the second you could bring yourself to do it.

"do you actually not know how much you drive me crazy?" rafe asks, his stare almost burning holes in your eyes as he looked at you. "i've had my eye on you since we were 3, making sure you never came to me asking for coke or weed, because you know what i would do if anything happened to you? i would go fucking insane."

"rafe..." you sighed, bringing your hand up to his warm cheeks and he leant into your touch. "no. no, don't say anything, i don't wanna hear it-"

he was cut off by your lips touching his, your hands lifting to feel his spiky buzz cut underneath your fingertips. he immediately starting kissing you back as if before this he had never taken a breath before, and you were his oxygen.

his searing touch made its way under your shirt and up to the bottom on your bra, running his hands up and down as he pushed you back so you lay on his soft sheets.

you felt him pull at the hem of your cami, the dainty pink fabric peeling off swiftly as you were left in your bra and skirt. he looked up at you with love-drunk eyes, pupils dilated and black while he started kissing down your neck.

"wait- rafe, no. we can't. topper." you gasped as you somehow leaned even more into his touch as the words came out of your mouth. he halted his actions for a moment, pulling back so he could look at you.

"fuck topper" he spoke as he pulled his shirt off swiftly, his perfect tan skin and abs making you bite your lip. you squealed as he picked you up and brought you to the top of his bed, leaning your head softly against the pillows.

"you're so pretty, so so pretty baby" he uttered, unzipping your skirt and pulling it down your soft legs. "we don't have to do this yeah? only if you want."

you didn't think you could actually adore this man more, but he surprised you every word he spoke.

"please rafe" you whined, dragging your acrylics against his abs as you watched the goosebumps from your touch.

he let out a quiet "fuck" as he smashed his lips onto yours once more.

you reached down to the waistband of his pants feeling around before pulling back as you felt an unfamiliar metal-shaped object.

he looked down at your movements as you stopped "whoops, my bad ma." he pulled the gun out of his waistband and tucked it under the pillow you weren't resting against, going back to kissing you as you giggled.

he undid his belt swiftly, pulling down his pants and boxers until his hard member came into view. you didn't even have time to think of how massive it was as he went down to kiss you once more, pulling your panties aside and entering a finger into you.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he sighed against your lips.

you whined in response, reaching down to his cock and pumping it in your hand. "can't wait any more rafe."

"its ok baby, i've got you"

you gasped loudly as he first entered into you, the large intrusion making you whine in both pain and pleasure.

"yeah, cmon. you can take it baby. you can take it"

his strokes were slow and powerful, filling you up until you felt as though you would snap. his groans soon filled the room as he pounded into you.

"you're so so good to me baby, can't believe we haven't done this sooner. gonna make you mine ma" he moaned, that statement bringing you over the edge as you came around him with a moan.

"thank you thank you thank you" you chanted, your acrylics surely making bright red scratches to his muscly back while you came.

"no, baby. thank you."

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron drabble #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #rafe smut

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vampsol · 8 months ago

Text

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM | 심재윤

⟢ PAIRING: sim (jake) jaeyun x fem!reader ⟢ WORD COUNT: 10.2K ⟢ GENRE: fluff, angst, smut ⟢ TAGS: badboy!au, innocent!reader, opposites attract, sexual tension, corruption kink, dirty talk, fingering, oral (m + f receiving), 69, pet names (baby, angel, etc.), face sitting, protected sex. ⟢ SYNOPSIS: Just because there's a new and seemingly bad influence in your small town, it doesn't mean you have to fall privy to his charms, no matter how beautiful he is. But when he takes notice of you, none of the gossiping wine moms can stop him from getting what he wants. ➸ shoutout to @kwanisms and @mini-mews for helping this fic come to fruition, ily guys sm and this is genuinely one of my favorite pieces ive ever written aaa.

“Have you heard about the new family who moved into town? The son is a real piece of work!”

“He’s twenty-one but acts like he’s still sixteen on that damn motorcycle. No class or consideration whatsoever!”

“Maybe they’ll keep him in check if they decide to come to church this weekend. You know Reverend Park has no time for miscreants and delinquents.”

The familiar crowd on your mother’s front porch greets you as you’re attempting to exit the house. They cool themselves off with their makeshift fans and drink your mother’s homemade lemonade in the Saturday sun, continuing to harp on the locals in town that they’ve known for years.

Somewhere in their conversation, they drifted to the topic of the new family that moved in across the street. Three days was all it took for them to begin spouting their judgemental observations, every act from the new middle-aged couple and their son fodder for their discussion.

You smile politely with every fiber of your being, despite your instincts to snap at them and be on your merry way. If only they knew how ironic they are, pointing fingers at others from their high horses when the town kept enough space for their dirty little secrets. “Nice to see you this morning, ladies.”

They say your name with grace, their tones all air with little substance. “On your way to bible study?” Mrs. Choi asks, gazing at you from the rim of her glass.

You shake your head. “Just tutoring.”

“With the Nishimura boy? What a sweet kid.” When Riki’s name leaves Mrs. Lee’s lips, all the women hum in agreement. “Such a bright future ahead of him.”

“Of course, as long as he passes English,” you joke. The women’s faces don’t change, not taking your teasing with an ounce of anything but seriousness. The bags under their eyes, lipstick smudged in the tiny corners of their teeth, and piercing attitudes begin to damper your excitement for the day. You bid them goodbye quickly with another smile, walking down the stairs and onto the path down the street.

As you turn down the sidewalk, still hearing the resounding chatter from the women, your thoughts run wild. Is this what life would be like when you were older, doing nothing but kicking your feet up on a neighbor’s porch with only other people’s business to fill your time? Spending endless days and nights at church, listening to the same sermons leave Reverend Park’s lips until you become as overly critical as they all are?

The screech of tires halts your thoughts in their place. “Watch it!” A young man’s voice pierces the morning air, making you step back even further. You hadn’t realized how far you had walked into the road until you were back on the safety of the sidewalk. You trip on a crack between the two slabs of concrete, falling backwards and meeting the ground hard.

“Shit, are you okay?” He takes his helmet off, immediately hooking it to his handlebars to check on you.

Sim Jaeyun.

You had not met him formally until this moment, but the motorcycle and undeniable looks gave away his status as your new neighbor. Your parents had decided to let the new family settle in before trying to visit and introduce themselves. If they could see you now, your maxi skirt hitched up to your knees and the boy barely a foot away from you, they would have had a field day.

Sure, you both are of age. Butlike Mrs. Choi, Mrs. Lee, and other local townsfolk always do, people will talk about such a compromising position if you aren’t careful.

All those thoughts fade away though when Jake kneels beside you, his face flooded with concern. His eyes linger on the broken skin on your legs and then across your flushed face. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head. “It’s barely a scratch. Sorry I almost ran into you.”

“More like almost ran into my bike.” He laughs, his expression one of relief as well as humor. “I’m just glad you’re in one piece.”

“Thank the lord.” You brush your hands on your skirt and begin to stand up, but Jake grabs you by the hand to help, taking all your weight with him.

“Thank you,” you say, brushing the free hair from your braid out of your face.

“You’re welcome.” He unclips his helmet from the bar and gestures back to his bike. “I can drive you to wherever you’re going if you want. I don’t have a second helmet, but–”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips, the thought of riding on the back of a motorcycle too ridiculous to envision given your status as the deacon’s daughter. What would people say?

Jake just furrows his brows, his lips turning up at the corners. “Is my offer that funny?”

“No,” you say, “I would love to, it’s just–”

“Sim Jaeyun!” The shrill sound of Mrs. Choi’s voice makes you take another step away from Jake, unaware you were as close as you were to him. His presence seems to be magnetic, just like his smile. “Stay away from her or so help me God!”

Jake turns to the old woman down the road and nods his head, trying to be respectful but clearly irritated from her meddling. “Yes ma’am,” he yells, stepping back and getting closer to his bike.

“Maybe another time,” Jake says, “when you’re not flocked by the whining wine moms.”

You laugh and nod. “Maybe.”

Jake rides away on his bike, the wispy ends of his hair your last picture of him before he makes a sharp turn at the end of your street.

“Why do I need to learn this?” Riki groans, laying his head flat against his desk. The church bells ring as he knocks his head in the same rhythm against the polished wood.

“Because you need to be able to interpret text if you want to go off to college, Nishi. Otherwise you’ll be illiterate and an embarrassment to the entire town!” You put on your best harping, disapproving voice. It makes Riki laugh as he lifts his head. You’re glad at least the younger kids appreciate your sense of humor, unlike the older brood flooding your hometown.

“Alright, fine.” He opens his copy of Heart of Darkness, beginning to read the page in front of him. “I avoided a vast artificial hole somebody had been digging on the slope…”

A knock on the classroom door makes you and Riki turn. Yeri opens it with a shy grin, saying your name with the same nature. “Someone’s here to see you!”

“Who?”

“Some cute guy on a motorcycle? But don’t tell Jungwon I said that!” She runs back out the door and leaves you puzzled. Surely it’s not Jake. You just met him; he wouldn’t make the effort to try and follow you to your tutoring session, especially at the church of all places.

You head to the window to see Jake sitting against his bike, looking around at his surroundings. He’s wearing the same leather jacket and gray jeans, his white shirt marked with several spots of sweat. Riki comes up behind you, making a sound of acknowledgement. “Oh, that’s Jake!”

“Jake?” You look closer. “I thought his name was Jaeyun.”

“Yeah, but I call him Jake.” He laughs. “He’s my cousin.”

You nod your head, taking in his words. Jake’s sudden move made a lot more sense, seeing as Riki’s mother was getting sicker every day. She must have needed some help from her family to not only manage her household, but make sure Riki stayed on track.

“He probably wants to see you. Yeri must’ve gotten it all mixed up.”

Riki grabs his phone, scrolling through texts with his thumb. “Actually, he did mention almost running over a cute girl on his way to work.” The young boy smirks. “I’m gonna assume that’s you?”

You blush, the flush on your cheeks making you feel hot. “Whatever. He’s probably just picking you up!”

“I brought my own bicycle, dude. And as cool as Jake is, his driving makes me nauseous.” Riki begins packing up his belongings on the desk as you wonder what Jake would want to say that hadn’t already been said earlier. Surely he had no interest in talking to you beyond another apology for almost killing you earlier, not that you would have noticed.

As your thoughts continue on, you barely hear Riki’s parting words. “Have fun making out with my cousin!”

You venture outside and are greeted to Jake’s soft smile as he looks you over. “Didn’t expect you to be teaching my cousin how to read.”

You laugh. “When would that have come up? Before or after I fell face-first on the sidewalk?”

“Technically, you fell on your ass.” He looks over the cuts on your leg again. “Still doesn’t hurt?”

“Barely remember it.”

“Damn. Didn’t realize I was so forgettable,” he teases. You shuck your backpack over your shoulder, pretending his joke didn’t land. But you can’t help how your mouth curves into a grin. “Wanna take me up on that ride now? I don’t see any wine moms in sight.”

Being clear headed and not in the midst of a compromising position, you take a better look at Jake. He may look rugged from the neck down, muscles standing out through his jacket, but his face is incredibly youthful and vulnerable without a touch of hardness. Maybe the wine moms had gotten it wrong; maybe Jake’s actually a stand-up guy bundled up in a lot of leather.

Before you can answer, your father seems to appear from thin air. He wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Mr. Sim, pleasure to meet you officially.”

Your father holds out his hand for Jake, and Jake takes it with a steadfast grip. “Nice to meet you too sir. My mother was telling me how much you’ve been helping my aunt since she can’t attend services anymore.”

“Akemi is a pillar of our church. It’s only right to take care of one of our own as the deacon.” Your father squeezes you tighter to his side. “Glad to see you and my daughter have met. I hope she’s made a good impression upon you.”

“Yes sir. Very much so.” He smiles in your direction. The dimple in his cheek makes your heart flutter in your chest, the butterflies undeniable.

“Well, please tell your parents to come to ours soon for dinner. It would be a pleasure.” Your father begins the quick walk to his car, the silent request for you to follow him clear in his stern posture. You give Jake an apologetic smile before you leave, hoping your eyes hold the promise of taking him up on that ride someday.

When you’re both out of earshot and in the confines of your father’s car, he turns to you with a frown. “Do not get yourself involved with that boy. He doesn’t strike me as very forthcoming.”

You stutter out an excuse. Surely the first day of knowing Jake wouldn’t be the last. “F-Father–”

“Listen to me, sweetie. I know what I’m talking about.” He starts the car and begins the drive home, tightening his fists on the steering wheel. “I mean it. Do not see that boy again.”

The next morning, you’re sitting in one of the front pews with your mother, Yeri, and her mother. You see your fellow townsfolk in attendance in the other pews, Jungwon being one of them, Yeri’s longtime boyfriend. Mrs. Choi and Mrs. Lee look like they are partially focused on the attendees, but also on their own gossip.

All of you are dressed in your best outfits, your hair wrapped in a bun to maintain the peak of modesty. It doesn’t seem particularly realistic for a higher power to be judging you for your hairdo, but you gave in to your mother’s ridiculous requests as always. “We are important people in this community, darling,” your mother said as she stuck the umpteenth bobby pin in your hair. “If they can’t trust us, who can they trust?”

Riki sits behind you, his pew empty save for him. When you offer the empty spot next to you before the procession starts, he shakes his head. “Jake and his folks will be here any second.”

Your gut tightens, the words of your father playing over in your head. You know you have to heed his orders at all times, but the excitement you feel at the prospect of seeing Jake is unavoidable.

A minute before your childhood friend Heeseung sits at the piano to play the beginning of How Great Is Our God, Jake and his family walk inside. Jake’s impeccably dressed, clad in a red dress-shirt and suit pants. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing a handful of tattoos you didn’t notice the day prior. He has his mother’s arm in one hand and a bible in the other, looking completely out of place but incredibly mesmerizing.

He winks at you when he sits down, making you turn your head back to your friend at the piano. You follow in your mother’s and Yeri’s lead, singing alongside them and forgetting the new buzz in your veins. You can feel his eyes on you throughout the songs and sermons, and you should say that you don’t enjoy it, but you don't kid yourself. His attention makes your body tingle in all the right and wrong ways.

You excuse yourself in the intermission, walking outside until you’re a good ten paces away from the church. You take several pins out of your hair, grunting. The incessant tools had been scratching your scalp uncomfortably for the past three hours, and it feels like freedom taking them out one at a time.

It isn’t that you don’t believe in a higher power or the teachings your father and Reverend Park have supplied you with your entire life. The town is just too suffocating on days like these, setting you up to feel like you aren’t good enough no matter how hard you try every day to perfect yourself.

The fashion show of your humble, presentable outfit, the whispered chatter from your community, the watchful eyes of holy men. They all make your skin crawl, that itch only intensifying with every day that passes. How could you stay in such a small room for years and feel misunderstood by everyone?

Jake saunters up to you, making you gasp in surprise. “Jesus Christ!”

He smirks, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I thought you weren’t supposed to say his name in vain.”

You shrug, smiling in relief to find it’s just him and nobody else. No-one to meddle, judge, or question your absence. “I’ll just say a few words of penance. I’m sure he’ll forgive me.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Jake chuckles and steps closer to you, his eyes lingering on your dress. It’s incredibly modest, the only skin showing high above your cleavage. but the look in his eyes still makes your nerves tremble.

You wonder what thoughts are swimming in his head and if a majority of them are impure. Would it be so wrong to confess that you feel the same? That whatever he’s imagining mirrors your own fantasies ten times over?

“The updo doesn’t suit you,” he says finally.

You giggle and cross your arms. “It doesn’t, huh?”

He steps closer, so close you can feel his breath on your skin. It lingers across your neck and shoulder blades. You shudder, hoping he doesn’t notice how his presence affects you. He reaches behind you and takes hold of the hair tie keeping your bun together. He expertly undoes it, your hair falling in waves around your shoulders.

Before he walks away, the church bells signaling the recommencement of the procession, he whispers in your ear, “Much more breathtaking with your hair down, angel.”

The next time you see Jake, he’s across from you at your family’s dinner table, all laughs with Jungwon and Yeri as your father passes out the rest of the side dishes. Riki is also there, discussing his mother’s treatment with your mother and Jake’s parents.

You can’t help the way your eyes attach to Jake across from you. It’s almost a form of punishment that you were made to sit in such close proximity, the weight of his stare on you swallowing you whole.

The feeling of his hand in your hair, his mouth against your ear–it was all so incredibly inappropriate. You shouldn’t have thought about that day last week with such excruciating frequency, but you did. You thought about it when you heard the wine moms whispering about Jake on your porch, when Yeri and Jungwon talked about him as you studied, and when you were alone at night.

In your dreams, it was even more painful. In a perfect world, he would take his hand from your hair and keep it on your neck, holding you close. He would move his lips from the shell of your ear to the side of your neck, kissing and tasting what skin was available to him in that moment to make you come undone.

Yes, sitting across from him is torment. But the alternative is worse, not seeing him at all and having to conjure images of him alone in the quiet of your bedroom.

“Deacon, sir,” Jungwon pipes up from his spot next to Jake, addressing your father directly. “I was going to study with Jaeyun and Yeri at my house if you wouldn’t mind your daughter tagging along.”

The muscle in your father’s jaw clenches. He’s clearly unhappy with one of the attendees being Jake, but he hides it behind a smile. “It’s up to her. What do you think, sweetie?”

On one hand, you should absolutely say no. Jake may take you into a random spot of Jungwon’s house and make any resolve you still have disappear with the flick of his wrist. Even in the company of your friends, you know no place is safe when he’s around and close to you. And were you willing to crumble so easily?

At the same time, the distance is eating away at you. You can’t take another charged glance in your direction, words unspoken but begging to be released. If you have to catch his bedroom eyes on your body one more time, you may just snap in front of everyone, and care little when you do.

“Sure. I’d love to, Wonie,” you say with a grin. “Nishi, you want to come too?”

Riki shakes his head, enjoying the fruitcake your mom set out. “I’ll stay. Someone has to help clean up.” Jake’s mom squeezes one of his cheeks. Riki’s face suddenly turns pink from his aunt’s affection, making everyone laugh.

On your way out the door, your father catches you by the arm. He whispers, “No later than midnight. Understood?”

On the cusp of 10 PM, you want to protest that time with your friends is already so limited, but you obey with a nod and walk out the door.

When you get in the backseat of Jungwon’s car, Jake too comfortable beside you, you feel your body flicker to life. “So,” you say, “your house then, Won?”

Yeri and Jungwon laugh, a conspiratory look in both of their eyes. “We’re just gonna make a quick stop first.”

Kiss ‘Em Creek was the unofficial name of the lake that ran through your town, a spot for teenagers to spend a few hours alone with their friends or partners. It wasn’t scientifically-correct, but it stuck nonetheless, many of the locals taking advantage of the not-so-secret hideaway. What went on there you only heard about through Yeri and the wine moms’ conversations, their voices littered with disappointment and condemnation.

Jungwon parks his car and turns his eyes to meet yours in the rearview mirror, that scheming smile still playing on his lips. “Ready to take a dip?”

Your eyes widen. You shake your head at a rapid pace, making your friends and Jake chuckle. “No way,” you say.

“C’mon babe, live a little!” Yeri winks and exits the car, Jungwon hot on her heels. The two of them begin to strip to their underwear, eager to jump in the water together. Jungwon picks her up in a bridal carry, Yeri laughing the entire way as he takes the first step into the awaiting lake.

As the two lovebirds continue heading towards the water, you and Jake sit in comfortable silence, your heartbeat slowly rising at the prospect of being alone in the car together. No distractions, no disappointed parents, no judgemental hags. Just the two of you under a cloud of stars and beautiful moonlight.

“I didn’t know if you would come tonight,” Jake says, filling the silence with a quiet chuckle. “Thought you were avoiding me at all costs, like I’m some kind of plague.”

“No!” You turn in your seat to face him. His expression is teasing but holds undercurrents of disappointment, clearly confused where your feelings lie. And he has every right to feel that way. One minute you’re wishing he would pull you closer, and the next you feel it’s better he keeps his distance. “I just don’t know what your intentions are.”

His eyes darken and his lips curve into a beautiful but intimidating smile. “Is it not obvious?”

You squeeze your thighs together, a wave of heat spreading through your bones. “Maybe I just want you to say it out loud.”

He scoots closer to you, his chest a heartbeat away from yours. “Well, to start,” he says, “I would really like to kiss you.”

You smile. A breathless laugh leaves your lips, eager to know what it would feel like to touch his mouth to yours. “I’d like that too.”

Jake runs a hand through your hair and rests it on your cheek. His touch is as fragile as the tension between you. “Then what are you so afraid of?”

You shut your eyes, trying to come up with the right words and falling short. “It’s just everyone–”

“Fuck everyone else.” He forces you to look into his eyes, the words leaving his mouth being some of the truest ones you’ve ever heard in your life. “You’re not a bad person or a sinner for wanting what you want.”

“I know that.”

“You may know it but you don’t believe it.” Jake’s lips ghost over yours, his breath tickling your cheeks. “Stop thinking about what everyone else thinks of you. Think of yourself for once.”

Maybe Jake’s right. All of your choices in life have been dictated by what your parents, friends, and total strangers have felt. If you listened to your own heart, you would have left all of them in the dust by now, chasing what you really wanted far away from this place.

At the same time, you’re glad to be in this car with Jake. He’s so close to you, telling you to take the leap and choose yourself for the first time in a long time.

When you press your lips to his, the feeling of his mouth on yours soft and tentative, you know you can’t wake up tomorrow the same person. This choice will ripple into all the choices you make from this moment on, but you don’t seem to care.

All that matters is his mouth, taking more control and setting a fire deep in your belly. He presses his tongue to the juncture of your lips, diving inside without protest.

You moan into his mouth, feeling one hand firmly pressed on your neck as the other runs down your shirt to squeeze at your breast through your clothes.

“Fuck, tell me to stop,” Jake says with a heady whisper, still kneading your breast with his palm. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”

You shake your head, moving closer to him to the point you’re halfway on his lap, legs intertwined with his. “So help me God, don’t stop now.”

He snickers, pecking your lips again. “You said his name in vain again.”

You roll your eyes as he chuckles into your neck. “That wasn’t the first thing on my mind.” You move your lips to his cheek. “Or the second.” They trail down to his neck, taking your fantasies and etching them into his skin. “Or third.”

“Fuck,” Jake curses, holding you tight against him. “You’re too good at this.”

You smirk. “Contrary to popular belief, you’re not the first person I’ve ever kissed.”

He laughs, the rumble of it vibrating against your mouth. “I don’t care as long as you keep kissing me.”

“Wasn’t planning on stopping.” By the time you reattach your mouth to his, you’re straddling his lap. His hands are nestled on the small of your back, wanting to inch down further but unsure where or what your boundaries are.

You take the initiative, suddenly bold, and put both of his palms on your backside. “If you wanted to touch my ass, you could’ve just said so.”

Jake licks his lips, his accent coming out in a husky whisper. “I want to touch you in a lot of places. Your ass just happens to be easily accessible right now.”

“Oh really?” You giggle. “Care to enlighten me?”

Jake sharply switches positions, your back against the expanse of the backseat as he towers over you. He rubs his hands across the outside of your thighs, eager but patient. “Gladly.”

He kisses your neck, suckling and licking with perfect pressure, making you whimper. “Jaeyun,” you say out loud, his name coming out like a question more than a statement.

“Use your words, angel. Tell me what you want.” His eyes pass over your face, your kissable lips and lust-blown irises. You’re too entrenched in him now to walk away from this car the same girl, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

It may end badly, crash and burn completely like everyone expects it to, but that’s the last thing you care about right now.

“I want you to touch me.” You take one of his hands on your thighs and place it over your underwear, its center damp.

“Jesus,” he says in wonder, rubbing his fingers against the cotton.

“You just said–oh,” you stop short when you feel Jake’s fingers against your clit. The sensation makes you buck your hips up into him, him discovering the bundle of nerves without trying hard. He’s clearly happy at the wetness he finds. He rubs your folds in the same fashion, biting down on his bottom lip hard.

“You feel so good already. So perfect,” he whispers, taking hold of your lips again with his own while he swirls his fingers in and around your essence. He switches between teasing your clit and rubbing along your pussy, his movements lewd yet graceful. Only when he puts a finger inside of you do you gasp and look at him directly, your eyes clearly giving away your fear.

“What’s wrong, angel? Did I do something?” Concern floods his face, but he doesn’t take his hand away.

“I’ve never gone this far,” you confess, looking to your side to hide your embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me.” He turns your head to face him again, fingers laying under your chin softly. “We can stop now if you want. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do.”

His response makes your heart clench. Most guys, you’d imagine, would be pissed off or pleading with you to continue on, to do what they wanted and enjoy the moment. That was how Jongseong was, pouting the entire time after you told him to pump the brakes on your makeout sessions.

Somehow, with Jake, it feels right to continue. You suddenly have no anxiety clouding your thoughts or expectations weighing on your heart. You kiss his lips tenderly and shake your head. “No, I want this. I want you.”

A cheshire-cat grin spreads across his face before he goes in for another kiss. He runs his tongue along the inside of your mouth as his finger slides across your folds once again. He plunges it deep inside of your heat, your body adjusting to the new sensation with surprising ease.

You thrash lightly underneath him, matching the tempo of his finger with abandon. He slips another digit in, groaning at the feeling of your soft, gummy walls becoming accustomed to him. “You’re taking my fingers so well, angel. ‘S fucking incredible.”

You gasp and feel the fire from earlier heightening in intensity, spreading from your belly into the other seams of your body. It makes your toes curl and your hand press against one of the doors of Jungwon’s car, needing something to clutch onto while feeling yourself losing what’s left of your control.

“Jaeyun, I think I–”

“I know baby,” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re going to feel so good in a second, I promise. Don’t be afraid.”

His thumb makes contact with your neglected clit, rubbing in rapid motions as he pumps his fingers faster in and out of you. You suddenly become overloaded with pleasure; its immensity is something you’ve never felt before. You feel it coat the back of your mouth and take what’s left of your rational senses, your body moving on its own accord as you ride out what’s remaining of your orgasm.

You blush furiously when you come back down to earth, giggling like a schoolgirl as Jake kisses your sweat-drenched cheek. “That was…amazing.”

Jake chuckles, a smirk painting his features. “You’re amazing.”

You tuck your face in your hands, embarrassed but still enraptured by what you just experienced. He pulls one hand away, taking it in his own, his expression suddenly shy. “So, I guess this is the part where I ask you on a proper date.”

You laugh and sit up, placing your panties back around your hips and adjusting your skirt. “I would hope so!”

Jungwon and Yeri choose that moment to run back into the car, their hair drenched but their bodies properly dressed once again. Jungwoon looks at the two of you in the backseat and grimaces. “Not in my car, man!”

Despite the warnings from your parents and the wine moms, you and Jake had become inseparable within a month’s time. It took many late-night impromptu meetings and secret rendezvous to keep your relationship private, but you had succeeded thus far. And it only made the moments you both shared that much more special.

Riki had kept your secret, keeping his eyes out for any prying townsfolk and covering for his cousin and you if need be. Yeri and Jungwon also cheered you on from the shadows, hoping one day you could be public like they were without criticism.

Sitting in the field near the lake, a picnic blanket set across the grass, you have your head in Jake’s lap while he absentmindedly turns strands of your hair into miniature braids. It’s a beautiful Wednesday afternoon, the two of you occupying the resounding forest with no outside influences.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful your hair is?” Jake asks, kissing your forehead before he takes another batch of strands in his hand. If he has to pick one of your best attributes, in his words, he’d say it was a tie between your lips and your hair, the two of them constantly making his heart race. You called him a liar, but as time revealed, he was nothing but honest with you every day, and not just about what turns him on.

Over time, you discovered his fears, his ticks, his aspirations past the small town you both found yourselves in. You admire his vulnerability, how open he is when sharing the thoughts that occupy his mind.

“At least three times already,” you tease, running your hand across his leg.

“It’s not bad to hear it a fourth time, right?” He plants another kiss to the crown of your head. He drops the braid he’s just made across your face, making you laugh.

“I’d rather hear how work went today,” you say, getting up to press your back to his chest, snuggling into him.

He shrugs, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Not much to talk about. Working with roofs all day isn’t exactly exciting, angel.”

You know Jake doesn’t want to work at his dad’s construction company for the rest of his life. However, it provides stability, and that matters a lot to him. He knows what it did to his aunt when Riki’s father walked out early on in his cousin’s life, and he wouldn’t wish that lack of support on anyone.

“At least you’re not running a tutoring center and a daycare in the same church,” you joke, your tone anything but humorous. The brood you dealt with every day was completely unlike Riki. They were kids that were carbon copies of their parents, children that would one day become exactly like their absentminded fathers and speculatory mothers. It put a taste in your mouth you couldn’t stomach.

You fall into steady silence, the uptick in both of your nerves ebbing away the longer you hold each other. Sure, Jake hates roofing as much as you hate disciplining whining toddlers and helping apathetic tweens with mathematics, but it doesn’t matter at this moment.

All that does is each other, enjoying the midweek sunset and the sounds of the birds flying overhead.

“What would you do if you were somewhere else?” Jake asks into the crook of your neck.

You grin, imagining a world of possibilities. The question never came up before, not from him or anyone else. It opens up a plethora of choices in your mind, but you narrow them down quickly, knowing what your heart truly desires.

“I’d like to teach,” you answer. “Really teach, maybe at a university. Something like poetry.” You turn to look at him, a newfound fire in your eyes. “Yeah.”

Jake smiles back at you, moving stray strands of hair from your shoulder to rest his head there. “I think you’d be great at that.”

“What would you do?”

Jake ponders the question, going over it in the same way you were moments before. You see realization wash over his features, and it makes you smile. “I think I’d write. Not literature or anything, but songs maybe? Teach music in the meantime. Still have to make money somehow, y’know.”

You giggle and push him down on the picnic blanket, running your fingers through his hair. “Sounds like a plan.”

He nods, sharing your happiness. “Maybe a kid and a dog can fit somewhere in that plan.”

Chuckling, you raise one eyebrow. “As long as I’m not having a baby out of wedlock, that sounds perfect to me.”

He turns you both over, covering your body with his and kissing you intensely. The passion runs from his body to yours, your heartbeats matching in their strong beats against your chests. “Perfect,” he whispers, his lips meeting yours once again.

It may be too soon to call it love, but you know you’re tiptoeing that line, and you wouldn’t mind falling headfirst on the other side of it as long as Jake’s there waiting for you.

“Are you sure they don’t know I’m here?” Jake asks, hesitant to walk up the stairs to your bedroom.

“It’s fine! They’re at a seminar all weekend with Reverend Park and his son, I promise.” You kiss his lips before running up to your room. Still on the fence, you hear his tentative footsteps trudging behind you.

Another few months rolled by, and your parents had softened to the idea of Jake being around more often. He showed up with his parents to church every Sunday, even if you both snuck off to make out in the backwoods when nobody was paying attention.

He’d stick around for the deacon’s sessions with Akemi, brightening her spirits with his guitar and a couple of songs to replace the ones she missed during normal processions. It helped that she seemed to be getting better, slowly but surely, with treatment and daily prayer.

When you heard your father call Jake a “nice kid,” you knew they were turning a corner in their relationship that you wished for since the night Jake kissed you in Jungwon’s car.

Now, that doesn’t mean they would be happy with finding him in your bed on a Friday night, but you’ve broken enough rules at this point. What’s one more?

“You’re trying to get me killed,” Jake jokes as you rip his shirt from his body, discarding the article of clothing on your bedroom floor. You sit on your bed and marvel at the muscles on his chest and stomach, all of it yours to caress and kiss at any time.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll follow you to heaven,” you tease, pulling him closer to kiss his body. Each press of your lips to his skin makes him tremble, cursing quietly to himself at the feeling.

“With the way you’re touching me, I doubt either of us will make it there.”

You giggle and link his mouth to yours. You moan when his tongue hits the roof of your mouth.

The intentions you had for tonight definitely involved numerous bouts of kissing, but the way Jake’s making you feel will certainly end up with his face or fingers between your legs. And as good as that sounds, you don’t want him derailing you from completing your mission.

There had been so many moments of him giving you pleasure up to this point, you wondered how he had stayed so composed and content after without expecting anything in return.

So, tonight, you decided to give him a bit of satisfaction, even if you’re walking into such activities without any kind of road map. Yeri gave you a handful of tips, but doing it for real is another beast entirely.

“Jaeyun, wait,” you say, taking his face in between your hands.

He looks up at you with eager eyes, wondering why you pulled him away from your neck. “What is it?”

“I want to take care of you this time.” You say, hoping your expression gives off the confidence you’re trying to portray. “I’ve never done it before, but—“

“And you don’t have to, angel,” Jake says with a dopey, relaxed smile. What on Earth and heaven did you do to find a guy like him?

“Please,” you beg, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. “I want to try.”

Jake’s conflicting feelings are evident in his eyes. Surely any man wants his girlfriend to go down on him with the same eagerness that you're giving him right now, but he doesn’t want you to feel obligated.

In his mind, pleasure isn’t about some sort of trade-off. He makes you feel good because he wants to, not because it’s some duty he has to fulfill and expects to be paid back for later.

But, you asked so nicely and your eyes shine up at him so beautifully. He feels his resolve crumble enough to concede and do what you want.

You begin to unbutton his pants, your fingers twitching not from fear but excitement. When you pull down his jeans fully and see the outline of his bulge in his briefs, your mouth falls open slightly at the size.

Could it fit in your mouth if it was that big?

Jake chuckles and takes your hand to press to the gaping material covering him. “It won’t bite.”

You look up at him and begin to stutter, unsure how to continue once you take off his underwear. “D-Do you want me to use my hands first?”

“Whatever feels right to you, angel. I trust you.” He rubs his thumb across your cheek, and it calms all the nerves that came to the surface.

It’s in those three words that you find the courage to pull the remaining article of clothing off of him, taking in the sight of his cock in all its glory.

You gulp hard, trailing your eyes from the tip to where it adjoins to the rest of him. You’ve never seen one up close before, and you feel like you’re invading his privacy as you stare at it for another long minute. But who can blame you?

“It’s all for you, baby,” Jake whispers. “Do whatever you want.”

You feel a sharp pang of heat at the center of your thighs, his words spurring you on. You spit into your hand, as Yeri instructed, and wrap your hand firmly around Jake’s cock. With an easy but deliberate pace, you look at Jake directly to see if you’re starting off on the right foot.

And boy were you.

Jake hisses at the feeling of your hand encasing him, loving the tightness of your fingers as they continue sliding up and down his dick. He had envisioned this many times in the solitude of his bedroom, images of you and your beautiful body writhing underneath him enough to get him off. But those nights were nothing compared to this.

“Are you ready for my mouth now?” You ask timidly. Jake wants to laugh at how innocent you sound, the words coming so naturally off of your tongue.

“Yes, angel, please,” he answers, wanting to caress you by the hair and guide you down to his awaiting, leaking cock.

You move closer until you're an inch away from his tip. Flattening your tongue to take it into your mouth, you keep watching Jake’s face for the right signals.

His mouth opens, a satisfied whine leaving his lips. You feel a wave of pride at the fact he’s enjoying it so much, egging you on further.

“Your mouth feels so perfect wrapped around me,” he confesses. He soaks in the sensation of your lips and teeth softly running over the veins of his cock, your head bobbing across his length skillfully. How can an innocent and dutiful daughter like you give such mind-blowing head?

He can’t ruminate on the answer long, releasing a guttural moan as he feels his tip hit the back of your throat, the gag that rumbles from you making his cock even more sensitive.

“Angel, I’m gonna come soon,” Jake warns. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, let me know now.”

You look up through your lashes at him as you continue sucking on him with fierce passion, swirling your tongue across his tip.

His hand is wrapped firmly in your hair now, fucking your face as softly as he can without forcing anymore of himself down your throat. When you take a hand to cup his balls, softly kneading them between your fingers, he’s done for.

He whines pathetically as his seed shoots inside your mouth. The taste isn’t particularly pleasing, but you milk it for what it’s worth to watch him fall apart so perfectly under your attention.

The orgasm rocks through him with an unshakeable amount of pleasure, his body completely helpless as he continues to spurt into your mouth. He can only hiss and whine as you continue to touch him, letting him come down fully and taking all of him without complaint.

Jake breathes in deeply when he gains clarity again, taking you in his arms and shoving his tongue deep in your mouth. “That was probably the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten,” he states, running his fingers over your face with adoration.

You scoff and roll your eyes, his words making you shy. “I doubt it, seeing as that was my first one.”

“It was!” Jake puts a hand on his heart. “Swear to the savior himself.” Before you can rebut, Jake takes your legs in his hands and moves you to the edge of the bed.

You wake up to the hard knocks at your bedroom door, the morning sun peeking out of your window to prove the previous night has long gone.

“Honey? What did we say about locked doors in this house?”

Your father’s booming voice makes you jump up from bed, smacking Jake hard on the shoulder and chest to wake him up.

“We had an odd feeling at the hotel, so we came home early,” your mother says as you shake Jake from his sleep.

“Ow, what the fuck,” Jake grunts, his voice not quiet enough to go unnoticed. You curse yourself and the reality in front of what’s about to happen, knowing full well your parents heard him on the other side of the door.

“Sweetie, who’s in there with you?” Your mother’s shrill but concerned tone makes you cringe. Jake’s eyes bulge in response, quickly leaping from the mattress to pull on his clothes in haste.

Just when you throw your dress from last night over your head and Jake buttons up his pants, your father slams open the door with his shoulder. Your parents gasp and yell at the sight before them, the man they began to grow comfortable with in a compromising position with their only daughter and precious child.

“What in God’s name is he doing here?” Your father asks no-one in particular, stomping towards Jake’s shirtless figure and yanking him by the neck.

“Daddy, stop!” You plead, scratching and clawing at his frame to pull him off of your lover.

Your mother begins blubbering, teary-eyed before you. “Oh honey, what did he do to you?”

“Nothing,” you scream. “Please leave him alone and let us be.”

“I told you to stay away from him.” Your father stares you down, eyes blazing with fury. “Not only did you betray me, but you betrayed the sanctity of your purity. It’s a disgrace.”

Jake coughs, your father’s hands tightening around his neck. “The only disgrace is the two of you holding her back, like she’s some weak bird in a cage,” he croaks. “She can make her own decisions.”

“You stay silent, you insolent pest,” your father growls, yanking Jake out of your room and down the stairs. By the time you and your mother make it out to the bottom step, your father has thrown Jake out and onto the porch.

“Stay away from my daughter, or you’ll have another reason to pray you don’t end up burning in hell.”

“Stop it!” You step in between your father and Jake, the latter putting on what’s left of his clothes. People begin to hover too close to your family home, suddenly entrenched in the scene playing out before them.

Jake kisses your forehead and walks away in the direction of his parked bike, unsure what else he can do unless he wants to truly end up six feet under.

Your father grabs you by the upper arm and pulls you in the direction of your porch, but you resist with all your might. “You can’t make me go back in there.”

“I am your father and you will listen to me,” he grunts, holding on tight.

“Daddy, I love him!” You scream as you yank your arm away from your father, your inner strength giving way. “If you can’t accept that, I guess I’ll just have to burn hell with him. Better than wasting another second here.”

You run toward Jake’s bike and sit behind him, cinching your arms around his waist. He smiles to himself, feeling the press of your chest to his back as he puts his helmet over his head. “Are you sure about this, angel?”

You nod furiously, not bothering to look back at your red-faced family. “More than I’ve ever been.”

All you focus on is his motorcycle rumbling to life before you speed away. Your hair blows in the wind as you both escape the horrified stares of the local vipers.

You end up at a motel on the other side of town, far away from the scandal that’s surely rocking your small community by now. The deacon’s daughter running away with the bad boy next door? What a tragedy!

You run inside to miss the upcoming rain, both of you shivering from the barrage of pellets that did land on your skin. You settle onto the mattress as Jake drops the small amount of belongings he had in his possession on the dresser.

He turns to you with quiet concern, arms splayed out on the furniture as he looks at you, searching your face for any lingering doubt. “No regrets?”

You shake your head, exhausted but glad to be out of that house. “None at all.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and sits down beside you on the bed, rubbing your thigh with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

Your brows knit together, confusion pouring over you. You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing to you.”

You feel tears build at your eye ducts, your voice suddenly growing thick when you recall the scene from an hour ago. “I’m sorry my father was so horrible to you.”

“Hush, it’s okay,” he puts his other hand on your face. He kisses your lips tenderly and gracefully. How did nobody else but you see he possessed the most kind nature of anyone you’ve ever known?

Jake moves his head, his lips curving into the smile that always takes your common sense away. “I love you too, by the way.”

Your confession from earlier hits you like a heavy rock, your eyes going wide and your face turning pale. “That wasn’t the way I wanted to say it.”

“Then say it now,” Jake urges, your face resting gently between his fingers.

There’s no fear or pressure when the three words leave your lips, only the feeling of a weight lifting off of your chest. “I love you, Sim Jaeyun. I love you with my whole heart.”

His face lights up, the words seeming to set aglow something deep within him. The only right reaction seems to be in the form of his lips attaching to yours in a passionate kiss, your shared love creating a beautiful path forward for the both of you.

He whispers his next words so lightly, you almost assume the statement is a figment of your imagination. “Marry me.”

You feel your face contort into a mixture of disbelief and elation, needing to hear him say it again for it to truly resonate. “What?”

“Marry me,” he repeats, his smile stretching across his face. “Marry me now, or in three months from now, or whenever you want. Just say you will.”

You exhale a breath of astonishment, unsure if he knows how much you want to say yes, to make this as real as it sounds on his lips. He leaves your side with a kiss to your temple to grab something from his jacket.

He comes back in record time, standing in front of you and twiddling the black box in both of his hands with anxious fingers. “I brought it with me to your house last night, I just didn’t know how to ask then. But I do now.”

Like in all the stories you’ve read and movies you’ve seen in your lifetime, he sinks down onto one knee before you. You place a hand over your mouth as he opens the box, a ring with an opal-shaped diamond cushioned in the center.

“Would you please do me the honor of being my wife?” Those words on his lips, visibly shaken from his own question, make a thousand butterflies flutter inside your chest.

Months ago, if you knew then you would end up here, from the edge of the sidewalk to now, you would not change a single moment. The world had been so gray before, you didn’t know what it was like to step in the sun until he came into your life. What other answer is there?

“Yes, yes, yes,” you respond, tears flooding your eyes as he shakily places the ring on your finger. It fits just right, the stone at the center sparkling in the darkness of the motel room.

You kiss Jake’s lips with all the force your body possesses, certain there’s no better future than right beside him.

The feeling of the gold band around your finger makes Jake shudder as it touches his cock. Your body is nestled perfectly on top of his as you take what you can’t put in your mouth between your fingers.

He laps up your essence with his tongue, ecstatic to have his face covered in your juices and smothered if need be by your wet cunt. If people think wedding nights are magical, engagement nights have to be a step up.

“Fuck, Jaeyun, yes,” you roll your hips into his awaiting mouth, his tongue available for you to lay your slit onto. The expletive leaves your mouth like honey, the feeling fitting for such a dirty word.

He knows exactly how to make you fall apart and be put back together, and the thought of doing this for the rest of your life makes you want to cry again from the pure happiness inside your core.

Jake takes his lips off of your pussy and sits up. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he takes you into his lap on the bed and kisses you fiercely. You taste yourself on his tongue as he skillfully takes your breath away with his lips. When you part, he says, “Angel, I know we said we’d wait, but I don’t know how much longer I can handle not being inside of you.”

You whimper at his words and suddenly rock your center into the tip of his cock, making him groan in the process. “I mean—we’re just starting early, right?”

Jake releases a joyous laugh and kisses you hungrily, his face in a constant state of ecstasy since you said “yes” hours ago. “Right.”

The anticipation makes you even wetter, crawling to the head of the bed as Jake grabs a condom from the bedside table. If there was one thing he had promised, he swore he wouldn’t get you pregnant. Not yet, anyway.

He rolls the rubber over his cock before joining you on the bed, lining up perfectly with your center. He rubs his tip against your folds, biting his lip at how easily it gets coated in your essence. “Ready?”

You nod eagerly, a smirk filling the entire bottom half of your face.

He pushes the tip in, the pressure a foreign feeling you had never experienced before. It took time and practice to get used to the size of his fingers, but this is another level of fullness that takes your breath away.

Once Jake’s partially inside and gives you a moment to adjust, he asks, “Can I move?”

You nod your head, holding onto his shoulders for support as he begins to thrust inside of you. He loves to see his cock disappearing between your legs, your body eagerly taking him in and stretching itself out to accommodate him. He loves the way you whimper at the movement of his hips and the pleasure you’re receiving.

Better yet, he loves you. He loves all of you, from the nonsensical words you speak in your sleep to the wrinkle between your eyebrows when you get mad. You’re all his, and he’s grateful to be the only one you call yours.

“We may never leave this motel,” Jake says, his words breathy as he continues moving his hips. “I could stay inside of you for the rest of my life, angel.”

“I love you so much,” you say, inching your hand between your bodies to roll your clit between your fingers.

“I love you,” Jake says. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you like he wants to pour all of his emotions from his being into your soul, just so you know how deep his love for you goes.

It’s all so overwhelmingly beautiful, you feel the swell of your release cresting over you like a tidal wave. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” you whisper, your mouth open wide from the moans and cries you cannot suppress.

Jake groans and slams his hips into you harder, filling you to the hilt repeatedly. “Come, angel. Come for me.”

You cry out as the orgasm takes hold of your body, your fingers working on their own accord on your clit as you fall off the edge.

Jake stills not a second later, releasing into the condom and taking the last remnants of his energy to thrust inside of you a few more times.

He pulls out and throws the rubber in a nearby trash can. His sweaty body clings to yours, hands rubbing up and down your arm tenderly as he kisses the curve of your shoulder.

You see the flash of your ring in the glow of the motel’s neon sign, and you think about how the night could not have gone any better.

Jake may be a bit reckless and not what you initially imagined for your future, but now that you have him, you wouldn’t give him up for anything. All the parts of you that stayed buried for so long have resurfaced because of him, and you could not be more grateful.

With your left hand a touch heavier than it was some hours ago, you fall asleep to the sound of the rain hitting the window and Jake’s rising and falling chest.

You walk out of your mother’s house, happy to have made a visit with her before she ran off to do her morning errands.

What you’re not pleased to encounter is the same crowd of women huddled with their homemade fans and cups of lemonade. They weren’t there when you arrived a few hours ago. Of course they show up when you have no chance of escaping them, like the vultures they are.

“Mrs. Sim,” Mrs. Choi says, her tone entirely made of stone with little warmth. “Pleasure to see you.”

Your new surname gives you indescribable amounts of happiness. It took your parents some time to get used to, but eventually, they realized you put your heart in the right place. Your father took his sweet time getting there, begrudgingly admitting a short time ago Jake is a very acceptable son-in-law, the turnaround of his perception of your husband complete.

You give the crotchety ringleader a fake smile and attempt to walk away, but Mrs. Lee interjects. “How’s your mister doing working at the church now?”

“Great,” you say, genuinely happy to talk about a topic you care for. “Jaeyun loves the kids. Little Yuna might actually be a guitar prodigy from what he’s told me.”

They all coo, practically synchronized in their sips of lemonade and fan flurries.

“Soon enough you’ll have one of your own, I’m sure,” Mrs. Choi remarks with sarcasm, her red-lipstick-stained front teeth on full display.

“Not too soon now,” Jake suddenly says, walking up the pathway to your mother’s house and taking you in by the waist. “My wife has to finish her Masters first. How else is she gonna start teaching at the community college?”

My wife. No matter how long it’s been since you officially got married in your church, that day a year ago forever ingrained in your memory, it still warms you to the bones hearing those words leave Jake’s lips.

The women all express signs of agreement, some nodding while others hum.

“We better get back home now, but you ladies have a nice day!” Jake bids them goodbye and walks you both down the stairs with his hand on the small of your back. Even if he were to be more than the perfect gentleman in front of them, they would still linger around with pesky eyes and constantly moving lips.

“They’re still betting we’re gonna crash and burn, aren’t they?” Jake whispers, teasing you with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

You shake your head. You fall more in love with him every day that passes, no matter what the people around you do or don’t see. They may have their opinions, but it won’t shake the foundation you’ve built. “Well, they’re sure to be disappointed if I have anything to say about it.”

Jake’s eyes widen, his expression humorous yet surprised. “Easy, angel. Don’t want to have to tear my wife off of a nosy wine mom.”

Your heart aches at his words, him fully aware of what two of them in particular do to you. “I love you.”

Jake grins, inching his face closer to yours. “I’d love nothing more than to kiss you right now, but what would everyone say?” He asks with a mock face of horror.

You shrug without much care, grinning. “Someone once told me ‘fuck everyone else.’ And right now I couldn’t agree more.”

Jake laughs before he places a gentle kiss to your lips, the sun radiating off of him in waves as he pulls you closer.

No matter what anyone in your small town has to say, your choices are yours; you’re perfectly happy with how your life has turned out whether they think so too or not. And you will always choose Sim Jaeyun, now and forever.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

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daryltwdixon · 1 month ago

Note

Mmwhahaha REQUESTS YES. So jealous joel is my all-time crush, men being jealous is so damn hot. I'm picturing age gap, friends with Tommy, so she's come over for like a BBQ or something, and one of his friends is flirting and being touchy. Incomes jealous joel. I'll leave the creatives to you! Points for a short sundress and tipsy drunk sex later.

|| smut MDNI 18+, no outbreak, size difference (joel is big and hulking obvi, no reader description), pinv quickie, lots of heavy kissing, jealous!joel, maybe a little mean!joel, dirty talk, creampie ||

a/n: heyyyyy I may have gotten a little carried away hehehe tysm for the request!! (left joel pic is from @iamasaddie)

The air was hot and thick with the smell of Frank’s famous ribs on the barbeque that late Saturday afternoon, the sun still beating down despite the hour. Joel’s hand stung from the cold bite of the ice that floated in the cooler as he fished around for a beer, hoping it’d take the edge off the heat, and maybe the company, too.

He was only half listening to the conversation near the tables, the scrape of tongs on the grill, the low hum of voices rising every so often in laughter as the guys hovered around Frank like he was running a damn cooking show. Most of them were well past their drink limit already, and none of them seemed to be slowing down.

It was one of those casual get-togethers Tommy liked to throw now and then. They pulled in the whole damn crew from the job site, a few neighbors, and the usual handful of buddies Tommy had collected through the VA or just from being more sociable than his older brother had ever been.

Joel normally showed up late and dipped out early. But this time, he’d been here since setup. Grunted through the small talk, nodded through the backslaps and the bullshit, even ignored the flirty eyes and lingering hands from some of the wives who’d had one too many.

He was just cracking the tab on his beer when he heard Marcus ask, “Now where’s that cute little thing you always got hangin’ around you these days?”

Joel’s head snapped up before he could stop himself, eyes cutting to his brother like a reflex.

Tommy’s grin widened bashfully, cheeks coloring under the weight of Marcus’s arm slung around his shoulders.

The guys burst into laughter, light punches landing against Tommy’s chest and arms, jabbing at him like boys in a locker room. Joel didn’t laugh, instead, he felt his jaw tighten.

He didn’t really know you. The real estate girl Tommy had gotten friendly with, now that he was helping out more regularly with Miller Contracting. You’d become part of the routine, almost part of the company entirely if Tommy had his way. You were slowly turning into the face of the pitch, the one always talking to buyers with your bright voice and glossy folders and those heels that somehow never sank into the grass.

Truth be told, Joel thought you were actually pretty damn good at your job. You never over-promised. Never made excuses. You just smiled at the impatient homeowners and smoothed things over with that voice of yours, always steady, always sweet.

No worries, Mrs. Smith, the boys are workin’ hard, and your granite countertops should be done real soon. What’s that? You need it finished in two weeks? Don’t worry, I’ll ask ‘em to crank up the Constructo-Meter and work double-time.

Joel had to force himself not to smile the first time you pulled that one out.

Because you were a pain in his ass. Always wedging yourself into their business, always making friendly chatter with the guys—it drove him mad.

But still, that never seemed stop him from thinking about the way those little black skirts and low cut blouses hugged your curves, how your voice went syrupy when you talked on the phone, how your perfume lingered long after you’d left the site.

And it sure didn’t stop the way his blood started to run a little hotter now, just hearing other men talk about you like that.

And speaking of the devil in heels, there you were, the back door sliding open and your bright smile shining across the yard. But you weren’t in your usual business attire. Long gone was the little black pencil skirt, you had sandals instead of kitten heels, and instead of your clipboard tucked under your chest, you held a dish covered in a tea towel.

Instead, you wore a simple little sundress. Light fabric, floral print, the kind that clung just enough to your waist before fluttering out around your thighs. It moved with every step you took, catching the breeze as if made for days just like this.

Your legs were bare, glowing in the bright sunlight, long and smooth and dusted with the faint shimmer of the afternoon heat. You walked slow, easy, like you didn’t feel a dozen sets of eyes turn toward you all at once.

“There she is!” Marcus called, loud and eager, already moving to greet you like a dog off-leash. He bulldozed his way across the lawn, nearly knocking over someone’s lawn chair to get to you first. Joel watched as you smiled politely, extending your hand. You let Marcus take it, let him rest his palm on your shoulder like he’d known you more than a couple weeks. He led you into the yard like you were the goddamn guest of honor.

But had Joel blinked just then, he would’ve missed the way your eyes flitted to him across the lawn, almost in a silent plea. What was it you were asking of him? To pull you away from Marcus’s grip? To save you from the onslaught of attention? Joel told himself he was overthinking it. You only glanced at him, anyway. It was only a second, quick and barely there, but he felt his ears go red.

Then you were pulled right into the thick of it. The circle of men and smoke and beer breath and loud talk surrounded you and Joel’s eyes narrowed when you leaned up and kissed Tommy on the cheek in greeting.

What the hell?

Joel’s mind scrambled for any semblance of conversation he had with his brother about you recently. As far as he knew, you weren’t seeing each other, or else he knew Tommy would be bragging from the rooftops about it. So why were you kissing him on the cheek, and why in God’s name was his brother looking so damn pleased with himself?

The guys hooted, elbowing Tommy again, shouting some nonsense about keeping secrets and "oughta let the rest of us have a chance." You laughed. That easy, breezy kind of laugh Joel had only ever heard you use with clients. It was sweet and polished and meant to keep things light.

“You’re bad,” you said to Marcus as he playfully tugged at the edge of your dish towel-covered plate. “I brought peach cobbler. Hands off till it’s on the table.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he grinned, “Don’t tell me you just came here to tease us like that.”

Joel clenched his jaw so hard his molars ached.

They fawned over you for a little longer, offering you a drink, asking about your week, making you promise you’d be at the site tomorrow. You laughed and nodded and let them talk at you while you balanced the covered dish in your hands.

Finally, someone called for plates and food, and the group began to break apart. You used the chance to step away, heading toward the folding table to set the dish down, hands smoothing the towel flat once you uncovered the cobbler.

Joel dropped his gaze down to the cooler as you approached, hyper aware of every footfall he heard of yours, the slapping of your fancy looking sandals. He could feel your approach, his nerves fraying the closer you got.

“You gonna guard that cooler all night, Mr. Miller?”

His jaw flexed again.

He could see your painted toes in his periphery, the slender straps of your sandals peeking through the grass as you stood beside him now, arms crossed loosely as you probably were eyeing the cooler. Joel didn’t answer at first, but he reached back into the ice and grabbed another beer. He knew which kind you liked. He offered it to you all the while barely looking at you.

“Thanks,” you said, taking it from him and flipping the tab. “Didn’t realize it came with a side of brooding.”

His eyes finally flicked to your face, but you were already turning and walking away.

Pain in his ass.

The fire pit was burning high, crackling steady in the pit as the night settled in thick and warm. Most of the crowd had cleared out by now, just a small group lingering in mismatched chairs and folding camp seats around the orange glow. Tommy was strumming his guitar across the fire from Joel, and someone had pulled out the s’mores kit, and now half-melted chocolate wrappers and graham cracker crumbs littered the little side table.

You were perched on the edge of a faded Adirondack chair, legs tucked under you, a roasting stick gripped delicately between your fingers. A single marshmallow dangled above the flame, the bottom already blistering black while the top sagged from the heat.

Joel watched you, his umpteenth beer in hand, his skin flushed and brow glowering at you across the fire beside his brother. But you hadn’t paid much mind to him all day.

The thought of that being the exact reason he was glowering flitted across his mind before he shook it away with another swig.

He told himself he was only watching you because you were reckless with the fire. That someone needed to keep an eye on you before you set yourself or the whole damn yard ablaze. But even as the thought passed through, it felt thin.

“Uh-oh,” someone murmured, pointing at your marshmallow.

You lifted it too slowly, distracted mid-conversation, and by the time you noticed, it was already half-melted, sagging off the stick. But you just laughed, grinning as you brought it straight to your lips anyway.

It hit your mouth in a gooey, half-scalding mess. A smear of white stuck to the corner of your lip, the rest slipping down your chin in a slow drip before you caught it with your finger.

“Shit,” you said, laughing again, swiping at the melted mess before licking your finger clean with a soft, exaggerated pop. “Too hot.”

One of the women next to you snorted, covering her mouth. Another chimed in, “Girl, you’re gonna burn your tongue off.”

But the men… they were all silent, frozen, staring in awe as you finished off the white sugary syrup that dripped down your finger.

Joel’s pulse kicked hard in his neck, the bottle slick in his hand. His eyes narrowed across the flames, locked on you like you were a match yourself. He didn’t know what pissed him off more—how you didn’t seem to notice the reaction around the firepit, or how maybe the fact that you very much knew exactly what you were doing.

You were glowing in the firelight, hair messy and cheeks flushed, lips still sticky with sugar and heat. And you weren’t even looking at him. You were laughing with the others like you hadn’t just made every man in the circle forget what they were saying mid-sentence.

He hated it.

Absolutely fucking hated it.

He stood up suddenly, the legs of his chair scraping loud against the concrete.

Your eyes flicked over to him, a little startled.

Joel didn’t say much as he stalked off, only muttering something about needing to take a piss as he moved off toward the house, shoulders tight and eyes storm-dark.

Pain in his ass.

The house was quiet in the way that always made Joel feel like he could finally breathe. Music still played low from the guitar in Tommy’s lap, something twangy and slow, and the hum of conversation from outside was muffled by the closed door. He stood in the kitchen with his back to the room, hands braced against the counter, head bowed. His beer sat half-finished beside the sink, piss warm by now.

He hated this.

He hated the way his stomach twisted every time you laughed at someone else’s joke. He hated how the sound of his own brother’s name on your lips made his shoulders tense or how you floated through the yard like you didn’t even notice the way people watched you.

And worse, hated how badly he wanted you to look at him.

He didn’t want to be that kind of man. The kind that glared at his own brother like a dog guarding a bone. The kind that let a little sugar-slick smile get under his skin. But here he was. Stuck in it. Damn near drowning in it. A grown man stewing in the dark over a girl that wasn’t even his.

Joel kept reminding himself that he barely knew you. Just a few months of day in and day out visits to the sites, or meeting him and his brother on new projects. Joel and you mostly only talked business, maybe a few jokes here and there if he was in a good enough mood. Sometimes you brought him coffee when you knew it’d be a long day. You’d learned how he’d liked it. He was kicking himself for never being all that nice to you. But it surely wasn’t enough to justify this ugly thing crawling up his spine every time you touched Tommy’s arm or shared a smile with one of the other guys.

If anyone deserved you, it was probably Tommy. He was good with people, charming and light on his feet and always seemed to know what to say. If you were gonna fall for someone, Joel figured it would be him. Maybe you already had.

But none of that stopped the way Joel’s blood ran hot just at the thought of it.

No. Joel wanted you.

And he wanted you bad.

He closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to settle the mess churning in his chest. He hated the way he got around you, how quick his temper flared, how easily his thoughts tangled. The jealousy slipped in quiet at first, but it had since settled deep, coiling tight in his gut until everything felt too hot. And beneath it, there was the want. Hot and blood boiling, it was impossible to ignore. It clung to him in moments like this, too loud for the quiet kind of life he told himself he wanted now.

And just as he was pulling himself together, the back door creaked open behind him.

He turned halfway, startled.

You stepped inside, lit from behind by the porch light, brows pinched and lip tucked between your teeth. You didn’t see him at first, just cradled your hand in front of you and headed for the cabinets.

“Can’t believe I actually burned myself,” you muttered, yanking one open and rummaging through it.

Joel blinked. “The hell you doin’?”

You jumped slightly, eyes snapping to him. “Jesus—I didn’t know you were in here.”

“Clearly,” he snapped, but then his gaze dropped to the way your fingers curled protectively around your hand. He let out a sigh, quieter this time. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

You hesitated, then nodded and moved toward the counter. Joel disappeared down the hall and came back a moment later with the first aid kit, clicking it open as you settled on the edge of the counter. Your bare feet dangled above the floor, knees drawn in slightly like you were trying to take up less space.

“I feel so stupid,” you muttered with a breathy little laugh, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah, well,” Joel grumbled, “shouldn’t’ve been playin’ in fire.”

“I wasn’t playing,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I dropped my marshmallow.”

Joel didn’t respond. He let the quiet settle again as he took your hand in his. He hadn’t noticed before how small it was. How his palm all but swallowed yours. You were so warm, so close. Closer than he’d ever been, really.

After a moment, you tilted your head, frowning at him. “What’s been your deal today?”

He didn’t answer, just dabbed on the burn cream. You winced, and he almost felt bad.

“You’ve been acting… weird,” you said softly.

“Weird?” he echoed, even though he knew exactly what you meant. He had been acting like an asshole, there was no doubt about it.

“You’ve been…distant. All broody and quiet.”

He finally looked up at you under his brows. “I don’t brood.”

Your lips curved, amused in spite of yourself. “Joel Miller, you are the definition of brooding. What’s going on with you?”

He paused, focusing on wrapping the bandage like it was the most important thing in the world. He didn’t know if he was going to answer. Didn’t know if he should.

“You don’t even realize it, do you?” he said finally.

You blinked. “Realize what?”

He glanced at you, frowning. “The way you act out there with them. Letting ‘em fawn all over you. Laughin’, lickin’ marshmallow off your damn fingers like you don’t know what that looks like.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

“Maybe you don’t realize it. Or maybe you do. Maybe that’s the whole thing. Part of your little game.”

“I don’t play games, Mr. Miller,” you said sharply, jerking your hand from his. You stood abruptly, the scrape of your feet on the tile loud in the silence. Joel was already kicking himself for being such an asshole.

“And if you’re so mad about them lookin’ at me, you sure as hell don’t seem to care enough to do anything about it.”

His blood ran hot under your glare. You tipped your chin up at him, eyes sparking now, fire in them even here, far away from the pit.

“And what the hell do you want me to do about it, huh?” he seethed.

And that’s when he saw your eyes flitting to his mouth.

The air between you burned, thick and charged, like static right before a storm. You didn’t back down. You stood there, chest rising fast, glaring up at him like you dared him to move. Joel towered over you, the low kitchen light behind him casting his shadow across your whole body.

You were breathing hard, and he swore he could see your pulse pounding in your neck, right at the base of your throat. He wanted to touch it. Press his fingers there just to feel it.

“What the hell is goin’ on with you and my brother?” he asked, the words coming sharp, cut straight from the mess in his chest. It had been stuck in his head all night—that kiss on the cheek, the way you trailed after Tommy, how you sat beside him through dinner, through the firepit, stuck to him like glue.

Your head jerked slightly like you couldn’t believe the question. “Seriously?”

“You’ve been followin’ him around like a little puppy all damn day. Kissed him on the cheek when you got here,” Joel said, like that explained everything.

“It was a greeting, Joel,” you shot back. “You do realize people are allowed to be nice to each other, right? There’s nothing going on with me and Tommy.”

He didn’t say anything.

“You’d know that if you actually talked to me instead of just staring all day like you’re allergic to conversation.”

Joel’s jaw tensed. His hands curled into fists at his sides. But you weren’t done.

“He’s my friend. That’s it. Tommy’s easy to be around. He laughs at my dumb jokes. He introduces me to people like he’s proud I’m there.”

Joel looked away, the weight of that last sentence heavy in his chest.

You watched him, breath tight in your chest. Then you shook your head and took a step back.

“Besides,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him, “he’s not the Miller I’m interested in.”

He stood suddenly frozen in place. He stared at you like the words didn’t compute. Like maybe he hadn’t heard you right. Like his brain refused to accept it.

You turned, trying to slip past him, trying to put this whole thing behind you, but his arm came out fast. His hand landed flat on the counter beside you, cutting off your escape. The movement wasn’t violent, but it was firm.

You jumped back, breath catching as you looked back up at him.

“Say that again,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard. “You heard me.”

“I wanna hear you say it again.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and unrelenting.

And then, quieter, but no less certain, you said it again.

“I want you, Joel.” you said, and then breathing in deep as if gathering the courage, you added: “You’re just too dumb to see it.”

The words hit him like a slap to the face, and something in him broke loose.

He didn’t let himself think about it too long, didn’t give himself any time to talk himself out of it. He pushed forward, hands sliding to your ribcage, and lifting you effortlessly to the counter. You gasped at the cool tile under your legs, your dress hiking further up as he set you down.

Then his mouth was on yours. And he wasn’t soft or gentle or even slow.

It was all heat and teeth and months of want compressed into a single kiss. His lips crashed against yours, greedy and rough, his stubble scraping your skin as his hands held you tight, thumbs digging into your waist like he was afraid you might take it back if he let go.

You gasped into his mouth and he swallowed it whole, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, hot and slick and searching. He kissed you like he was trying to devour you, like he could bury all the confusion and jealousy and ache in your mouth and come out clean on the other side.

Your hands clawed at his shirt, fisting the fabric and he could feel the way your knees hiked up around him, legs tightening to keep him close as your ankles crossed behind his back. His hips slotted between your legs, fitting there like he belonged, like this was where he’d been meant to be all damn day.

He groaned low in his throat when your teeth scraped his bottom lip. His hand slid up your back, fingers splayed wide, dragging you closer as his other hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face so he could kiss you harder. Deeper. Dirtier.

There was nothing careful about it.

You kissed him back like you’d been waiting for this too, like you were just as pissed off, just as tired of pretending there was nothing between you. Your lips were swollen, slick with spit and sugar, and when you broke away to breathe for half a second, Joel followed you right back in, mouths colliding again, sloppy and hot and wild.

Joel didn’t think he could get enough of you.

Every time you kissed him back, every breathy sound that slipped past your lips, it lit him up from the inside. His hands moved without thinking, one sliding down your thigh, fingers curling under the hem of that soft little dress.

You didn’t stop him, if anything–you leaned into it.

He dragged you closer, hands gripping the back of your thighs as he pulled you toward the edge of the counter. The slide of you against the cool counter top made you gasp but then he was there, pressing himself even harder between your legs, solid and heavy and wanting.

His hands slid up, dragging the fabric with them until he had you bunched up around your hips, until he could feel the heat of you radiating right through the thin scrap of fabric between your legs. It made him groan, low and guttural, forehead pressed to yours.

"Christ," he muttered, his voice rough, nearly shaking. "You're fuckin' burnin' up."

Your hands were in his hair now, tugging gently at the strands as your hips rolled forward, slow and seeking. His grip tightened, and he pulled you flush against him, grinding the hard line of his cock up into your center. He could feel everything—the softness of your inner thighs, the damp heat of you through your panties, the way your body arched into him like you couldn’t stand being separate another second.

You whimpered against his mouth, fingers threading deeper into his hair. He kissed you again, this time slower but no less intense, tongues sliding together, teeth clashing a little when neither of you could stop chasing the other.

Joel broke away, just long enough to press his mouth to the curve of your jaw, then your neck, dragging his lips down to the spot just under your ear where your pulse jumped against his tongue.

“Want you, Joel,” you sighed, tilting your head back to give him more access to your throat which he gladly took, teeth and lips and tongue all dragging across your warm skin, “Want you right here.”

"I know, baby," he rasped, grinding up into you again, slow and deliberate this time, letting you feel every inch of him. "This what you wanted all night, huh? Wanted me to take you in my brother’s kitchen like this?”

Your breath hitched. Your nails scraped against his scalp.

"Yes," you whispered.

He could feel how soaked you were, how hot and needy. The ache in his gut tightened, like he was right on the edge of losing whatever restraint he had left. His hand slid up your side, curved around your ribcage, thumb brushing just beneath the swell of your breast.

You were trembling now. Chest rising in sharp little bursts. Your legs wrapped tighter around his hips, like you were trying to fuse the two of you together.

“Then let me in, pretty girl,” he groaned, his voice shredded with restraint.

Hands reached between your bodies, his fingers dragged up the length of your clothed heat, barely brushing where you needed him most. Then he hooked his fingers around your panties and tugged them down, rough and quick, letting them fall to the floor.

He didn’t waste time.

His hand went to his jeans, undoing them with one hand, hissing low through his teeth as he freed himself, hard and already slick at the tip. He lined up with no finesse, not bothering to say more. Just pressed forward and buried himself in you with one deep, desperate thrust.

You cried out, head falling back against the cabinet, legs tightening around him even more.

“Fuck,” he gritted, voice strained and guttural. “This what you needed, baby? All those fuckers flirtin’ with you and touchin’ you, but this is who you wanted, huh? This cock right here?”

You whimpered something that might’ve been his name.

He snapped his hips forward again, harder, driving into you like he needed to stake a claim.

“That’s right, take it. So—Jesus, so goddamn tight. And all them think they might’ve had a chance but now look at you—stuffed full of cock like you’re made for it.”

Your fingers clawed into his back as he rutted into you, the edge of the counter digging into your ass, his body flush against yours. His mouth found your neck again, biting at the skin there, hands gripping your hips so hard you’d have bruises in the morning.

“You feel that?” he growled, thrusting up harder, rougher. “That’s mine. This pussy’s mine now. You gonna walk back out there drippin’ with me?”

You moaned, hips rolling helplessly against him, eyes glazed and lips parted.

“God, I fuckin’ knew it,” he muttered against your throat. “Knew you’d be a perfect little slut for me. Knew you’d let me ruin you the second I got you alone.”

He was so deep inside you, every stroke sharp and punishing, dragging the sounds out of you, making you clamp down tighter around him like your body didn’t know what to do with all of him.

“Come on then,” he rasped. “You gonna come on my cock like a good girl, or you want me to talk you through it?”

Your hands shot up, fingers tangling in his hair, yanking him down into a kiss that was all teeth and need. You moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed every bit of it, lips dragging across yours before he nipped at your bottom lip.

Joel groaned desperately into your mouth, the sound escaping from deep in his chest. He could feel the way you fluttered around him, could tell you were getting close.

He pulled back just far enough to look at you, one hand still gripping your hip, the other sliding down between your bodies. His fingers found your clit in seconds, slick and swollen and begging for attention.

“Ohhh, there she is,” he breathed with a dark little grin, rubbing slow, lazy circles that made you twitch. “That’s what you needed, huh?”

“Joel,” you gasped, eyes rolling, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s it. Say my name again,” he muttered, thrusting up into you, rough and steady, fingers never stopping. “You gettin’ close, sweetheart?”

You nodded, panting, body arching into him.

“Tell me,” he said, voice wrecked but firm. “Tell me how good I make you feel.”

You choked out a laugh between moans, half-drunk on it. “You’re such an asshole.”

He grinned. “Really shouldn’t be sayin that while I’m rearranging your guts, baby girl.”

“You smug bastard,” you gasped, rocking down on him, chasing every stroke.

“Aw, I know,” he cooed with an evil, teasing lilt, and then he was kissing you again, deep and filthy, fingers moving faster now, hips snapping hard against you. “Now come on. Let go for me. Wanna feel ‘er squeeze the fuck outta my cock.”

Your head dropped back, eyes rolling up, thighs trembling around his hips.

“That’s it,” he growled. “There she is. Come for me, baby. Make a mess. I fuckin’ dare you.”

And just like that, you broke. Your body seized around him, jaw slackened with a cry as you came hard, clenching tight around him.

“Jesus fuck,” he groaned, hips stuttering. “You’re perfect. Fuckin’ perfect.” he kept saying over and over again as he was spilling into you with a deep, broken moan, hips pressed flush to yours as he pulsed inside, thick and hot and perfect.

He stayed like that for a moment, both of you tangled together, panting against each other’s mouths. The only sound was your breathing, the faint music still playing from outside, the thud of Joel’s heart trying to calm down.

Slowly, he pulled back. His cock slipped from you, still thick and wet with both of you. You squirmed slightly at the loss, but Joel didn’t let you go far.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured, leaning down to reach between your thighs once he tucked himself away.

You gasped when his fingers slid back inside you, two thick digits pushing his cum back in with slow, easy strokes.

“Just cleanin’ you up,” he said, voice too soft to match the filth of what he was doing. “Can’t have it all drip out too fast. Not yet.”

You huffed a disbelieving laugh, but you still pulled one leg up to sit your bare foot on the counter, giving him more access.

“Want you walkin’ out there feelin’ it,” he whispered. “Want you sittin’ there all sweet while Tommy plays his little guitar and you’re sittin’ full of me. Warm and messy. Gonna keep my come inside you all night, pretty girl.”

You moaned under your breath, shivering again as he eased his fingers out.

Joel reached down and grabbed your panties from the floor. He slid them back up your legs, slow and careful, tugging them snug over your soaked center with a quiet, satisfied hum.

Then he leaned in again, kissed you on the lips, slower this time, no fire, just something warm and heavy and full of something more than the lust that was slowly dissipating from his blood.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

And when you smiled up at him, all wicked with flushed cheeks and kiss-bitten lips, he knew this wasn’t going to be the last time.

I saw this the other day and am in love lolol hope you enjoyed!!!

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #tlou #the last of us #tommy cameo #the last of us fanfic #jealous!joel #jealous joel miller #jealous!joel x you #requests #ask daryltwdixon

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bloatedandalone04 · 3 months ago

Text

Rich in Life

Summary: Bob is known to be the shy, quiet and kinder one of out the whole dagger squad, and he didn’t mind the ‘soft’ reputation one bit, because he knew the real him. The version of himself that came out whenever he got his wife alone, which, luckily for him, was every single night.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut, fluff, dirty talk, unprotected sex, swearing, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, hair pulling, fingering, all that good stuff, i had writer’s block and for some reason the only person i could write about was bob, so...enjoy.

It was Saturday night, and instead of being at home by himself like he had grown used to, Bob was out at The Hard Deck, perched on a stool with a Ginger Ale in his hand as he watched Phoenix kick Hangman’s ass at pool.

It was entertaining, to say the least, because Jake was usually so stuck up and cocky about everything and anything, it was nice to watch his fellow aviator effortlessly beat him at something.

The bar was lively as usual, but Bob didn’t mind it. He had ditched his usual khakis for a white tee and jeans, his casual clothing choice outside of his work uniforms.

As he listened to the comical bickering, he looked over at the bar and watched as you talked with Penny, a kind smile on your lips as you gave her your full attention. God, you were so sweet and so sexy, Bob was still in a little disbelief that he is the one who gets to take you home after this.

He adjusted his glasses and looked over at Jake, who was smirking at him, and Bob just shook his head. He’d grown accustomed to the teasing remarks and looks from his co-workers about how hot his wife is. He knew you were fucking gorgeous, he’s married to you.

“I still don’t know how you landed her, Bob,” he said as he bent down to line up his shot again. “She’s a fucking stunner. Total smokeshow. I don’t know what she sees in you. No offense.”

Bob just shook his head again as Bradley reached over and smacked the blond on his shoulder while Nat glared at him from across the table. He didn’t care to say anything back as he turned his head and saw you begin to make your way through the crowded space, your drink held up a bit as you carefully maneuvered between bodies.

Your pretty engagement ring and wedding band reflected off the lights as you settled beside him once again and leaned up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. He was still a little taller than you, even from his place on the stool, but it also made him the perfect height for you to snuggle against him. “Sorry I took so long. Penny is so sweet, I just had to stay and talk with her for a bit,” you murmured, a gorgeous smile on your lips as you sipped on your red drink. “But I’m back now.”

Bob smiled back at you as one of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. “It’s okay. Penny is great, I don’t blame you for wanting to hang with her instead of us guys and Nat,” he said, knowing Phoenix was far too focused on drilling into Jake to hear his words. “You know, you look stunning tonight.”

You really did. Your pretty blue and pink sundress looked gorgeous on you, and it was one of Bob’s favorite things you owned. Of course you knew that, though.

A blush coated your face as you nuzzled your head against his shoulder, hiding as if you were embarrassed by his words. “Are you trying to ensure you get lucky tonight when we get home? Or are you just being your natural sweet self?” you teased, nudging his side with your elbow. “I can never tell with you, baby.”

Bob grinned, his hand tightening its protective hold on your hip. “Can you blame me? You’re the most gorgeous girl in the room,” he said back, knowing just how lucky he was to have you by his side, and he loved the flirty banter that always happened between you and him every time you went out together. “I just want to make sure you’re having a good time, baby.”

You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m having a great time,” you said, winking up at him as you moved closer to his side and sipped your drink some more. “But I kinda can’t wait to get back home with my hot husband.” you added, shrugging casually as you slipped your left hand into the back pocket of his jeans and gave him a teasing squeeze.

His breath hitched slightly and he held back a low groan as he leaned into your touch by pure instinct. “Is that so?” he hummed, trying to keep his cool in front of his friends. He was known as the sweet, shy and quiet guy at work and in public, but with you, he was as dirty as it got.

But that side of him was just for you.

Bob lifted his hand and cradled your jaw between his fingers as he looked you in the eyes. “I think we can arrange that, sweet girl,” he said, his tone promising as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips

You moaned softly against his lips, because you were shameless as much as you are sweet, and that’s one of the things Bob loves about you. “Bob,” you whispered against his lips as your fingers teased the collar of his shirt. “Take me home. Please?”

Bob stood up and set his forgotten drink aside before he wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you towards the door. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said quietly as he led you out towards his truck, where he kissed you a few more times before getting in the driver’s seat.

As soon as he was behind the wheel, he reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers as he drove. Once he parked the truck in the driveway, Bob was pushing open his door before rounding the front of the truck to open yours. He gathered you into his arms as he walked with you towards the front door, his lips peppering kisses along your neck.

When he got you up to your shared room, Bob laid you down on the bed, his gaze heated as he looked at you. His hands were already tugging at your dress as he kissed you deeply, tasting the fruity drink you’d had at the bar on your tongue.

He pulled away and pressed a few kisses to your shoulder blade before he looked at you with nothing but adoration and desire in his eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cradling your face in his hands as if you were the most fragile, most stunning thing he’d ever seen. “I need to taste you.”

You moaned at his words, your eyes unguarded and trusting as you writhed under him. You reached down and pulled off your dress, tossing it aside to find later, which left you in just your panties since you skipped a bra tonight.

Bob’s hands gripped your knees and spread your thighs, his eyes darkening as he looked at the lace clinging to your heat. You were so hot, he was having a hard time taking his eyes off your gorgeous body, but your soft laugh had his gaze meeting yours. “Taste me,” you encouraged as he pulled off his shirt and kicked off his jeans.

Your words definitely had an impact on Bob as he leaned down and nuzzled his face against you, inhaling your all too familiar scent. He was rather slow as he hooked his fingers into the waistline of your panties and tugged them down your legs, showing him the pretty view of your glistening folds. He leaned in and licked a stripe up your slit before flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue, and Bob moaned at your taste, so addictive and sweet and all for him.

He worshipped you with increasing fervor, switching between gentle licks and hard sucks that had you bucking against his face and sliding your hand into his hair. “Mm, I love tasting you,” he murmured, one of his hands sliding up your stomach to palm your breast as his thumb teased your nipple.

Your head fell back on the pillow as you writhed on the bed, your fingers tightening in his hair. “Bob…fuck, baby,” you gasped, arching your back as he devoured you like a man starved.

Bob groaned, feeling his cock twitch in his boxers as his tongue explored your most private part. His other hand gripped your hip, keeping you pinned to the bed as he feasted on your sweet taste.

His hand left your chest and slid down your torso, and he slipped two long fingers inside you, your arousal and his saliva giving him easy entrance. You were so wet for him and warm and tight, Bob had no control over the way his hips bucked against the mattress. You were so hot.

“Come on, baby,” he mumbled against your pussy, his lips brushing against your clit. “Let go for me, I got you.”

When he curled his fingers and sucked harder on your puffy clit, you came for him with a soft cry, your eyes squeezing shut as your back arched. Bob licked and lapped at your folds greedily until you had quieted down and fell back on the bed, your chest heaving with uneven breaths. He crawled up your body, slowly pulling his fingers out of you as he did so, and he licked them clean before kissing you deeply.

Then he pushed his boxers down and slid inside you. “God, baby,” he groaned against your mouth as he began to slowly roll his hips against yours. You were so tight, Bob had to hold himself back from fucking into you like he wanted to. “You feel so good, taking me so well.”

He broke the kiss and trailed his lips along your jaw, his nose nuzzling against your cheek as he picked up the speed a bit, making your mouth part as soft moans left your throat. “Fuck,” you gasped, your back arching as his cock immediately filled you. You were still sensitive since he’d just made you cum a mere five seconds ago, but you didn’t mind it at all. Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, your body shaking a bit as you tipped your head back on the pillow. “Bob…oh, my fucking God.”

Bob lifted his head and kissed you again, his tongue brushing against yours and muffling your whimpers. “I love feeling you wrapped around me. So tight and warm,” he rasped, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as his hips snapped a bit harder against yours. “So sexy, baby.”

He reached down in between your bodies, his fingers instantly finding your throbbing clit, and he teased the bundle of nerves as he increased the pace even more until you were shaking once again.

“Gonna make you cum again, sweet girl,” he promised, his voice low and husky. “Right here on my cock. Just for me.”

In public, Bob was a softie (for the most part), but when he was with you, he had no filter, and the filthiest things freely left his mouth. He knew it drove you wild, the switch up that only happened with you, and he knew how much dirty talk turns you on.

You were shuddering from the sensitivity, your eyes rolling back a bit as you moaned louder. “Just for you,” you echoed, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as your hands slid into his hair and made it a mess. “Just yours.”

Bob moaned, peppering kisses along your shoulders as he reached down to grip your knee with his free hand, and he lifted it slightly to change the angle. “Just mine,” he agreed against your skin, his body heating up as a light layer of sweat formed on his forehead. When you clenched around him, he let out a strangled sound as he fucked you into the bed. “That’s it, baby, squeeze me.”

Your moans and whines were growing louder and louder, and your fingers were beginning to pull at his hair. “Bob,” you whimpered, guiding his lips back to yours in a messy kiss.

Your hips were bucking against his as his fingers continued to rub fast circles onto your clit, and he knew you were close when he felt you tighten around him once again. “Come on, sweet girl,” he murmured, his body pressed right up against yours as he rocked his hips into yours. “Cum for me again.”

Your body tensed up in his arms as you broke the kiss and tipped your head back, a long, loud cry leaving your lips as you came around him, enveloping him in a warm wave as you shuddered uncontrollably.

“Fuck yes,” Bob groaned, his hips stuttering as you clung onto him. A few seconds later, he was there too, and he was filling you up entirely as you whimpered and trembled under him.

He gave a few more slow thrusts before he pulled out of you, and he watched as his glistening cock slid free from your warm body, and a bead of cum dripped from you. You were so beautiful, he’d never get tired of watching you come undone for him.

Bob leaned down and pressed a softer kiss to your lips, and when he pulled away, his mouth was turned upwards in a lazy grin. “I love you,”

You hummed, draping your arms around his shoulders as you finally settled under him. “I love you too,” you said back, keeping your legs wrapped around him as you kissed him again in a post-sex make out session. “Stay like this, right here. Don’t get up yet.”

“Okay,” he whispered, holding you tightly in his arms as he gently eased his body down on top of yours, covering you like a shield. “We’ll stay like this for as long as you want to.”

You nodded slowly, a soft smile on your lips as you smoothed out his messy hair and adjusted his glasses. Then you were leaning in and kissing him again, and you continued to for a long time after that.

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paarksunghoon · 9 months ago

Text

FIXED COMFORT | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: typically, sunghoon’s the one who takes care of you when you’ve had one too many. but once in a blue moon, he lets his guard down and allows you to care for him the way he does for you.

or, the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much.

NOTES: idk I just feel like someone should let him sleep for six months straight!!!

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.4K (4444 exactly—she’s a shortie).

WARNINGS: fluff on fluff on fluff.

***

“Hey, do you think you could come get Sunghoon from the bar? He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”

Jay’s phone call pulls you out from a deep slumber on a Saturday night that falls on a day with no plans other than pure relaxation. Sunghoon had been preoccupied with work and classes this past week and wanted to unwind by drinking at his favorite bar with his closest friends and all you wanted to do was sleep the weekend away.

Since the two of you started dating six months ago after being friends for a little over two years, you both agree on the notion that you’ve found a good balance between time spent together and apart respectively. Nothing fundamentally changed with the exception of kissing and touching one another in the way a couple would. He still respects your independence and you respect his time away from you as well.

Sunghoon learned quickly that you’re the type of person who values your alone time more than anything else. When he first started developing feelings for you, grappling with your absence wasn’t easy. He initially thought you weren’t interested in getting to know him the way he was with you because you weren’t afraid to decline invitations and telling people ‘no.’ Slowly, over the course of many months of pining and late night conversations, did Sunghoon learn that you’re typically your best self after a moment of isolation.

Your boyfriend is somewhere in between an introvert and extrovert. He tends to be shy when he meets people he isn’t familiar with while his loud, rambunctious attitude is typically reserved for those who know him best. He likes to keep to himself for the most part, giving some of his personality away when he feels his walls start to crumble naturally. You love that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he’s able to tell you about his feelings while maintaining an air of confidence. He doesn’t inherently need anybody; he likes your company and will do anything to keep it.

Moments like this are when your heart feels softer for Sunghoon than when the two of you were just friends.

“I know you wanted to spend the weekend alone but Hoon’s been saying your name all night,” Jay says. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re sure Jay can hear your brittle voice. “Are you guys at the bar near your place?”

“That’s the one. Thanks again and I’m really sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t sweat it. Cook me something next week if you still feel bad.”

“I can do that. Chili oil noodles with shrimp sound good?”

“It’s almost like you know me.” He laughs at your sarcasm.

“Drive safe.”

When Jay hangs up, you allow yourself a few minutes to adjust and wake up, stretching your body from the warm comfort of your blankets. You change out of Sunghoon’s shirt to put on pajama pants and another one of his stolen shirts, opting not to take a jacket since you figure you won’t be out for very long.

You thank your past self for filling up your gas tank before tonight after having put it off for a few days. Knowing Sunghoon, he would still scold you for allowing yourself to run nearly empty before filling it up even if he was inebriated. Somehow, knowing this about him brings a smile to your face.

Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who likes to have some control over certain things. He likes order and structure, often waking up at the same hour every weekday to build a routine his body can remember. He’s been like that since you first met him but you think it’s part of his charm. Even from two years ago, when you met him through Jake Sim, Sunghoon has maintained a level of confidence and control that he does now. On the heels of an impressive skating career before pivoting to focus on higher education, Sunghoon had his preferences and will stick by them.

His discipline is the first thing you noticed when you met him for the first time. Jay, someone you were already familiar with, agreed to cook dinner with your friend group under the condition that everyone helped him shop and chip in for the meal. Sunghoon held Jake back from buying unnecessary things like boxed chocolate milk and candy because Jay had desserts back at his place. He held a checklist of items whereas the rest of your friends ran up and down the aisles without thinking much about what needed to be purchased.

Sunghoon’s near-meticulous behavior is juxtaposed to your chaotic and rambunctious nature. You often follow your gut instead of setting a solid plan because you’re not concerned with meeting deadlines, sans education. Whereas you tend to lean towards a go-with-the-flow attitude, Sunghoon is the opposite. But that’s something he loves about you.

At a surface level distinction, it didn’t seem like the two of you would get along as well as you did. It surprised Jake when Sunghoon asked for your number so he could text you about seeing a comedy film with him as no one else in the group wanted to see it. Including you at an impromptu study session with him (Sunghoon was organized and neat while your pens were spread all over and your study methods, haphazard) felt like watching two people clash.

Rather, you and Sunghoon complement one another.

The idea of letting himself go with someone who wasn’t part of his friend collective was unheard of. Getting to know a girl who didn’t share similar lifestyles didn’t appeal to him before meeting you, and you’re inarguably the most chaotic person Sunghoon knows. But he finds that there’s order within your chaos—you know who you are and what you want, and you will not compromise yourself just to please other people.

It’s what Sunghoon loves the most about you. There’s a boundary you never let anyone cross under the assumption that your own safety net feels compromised. He’s watched you lose friends for this same reason and has always admired the way you carry yourself like you know you deserve better than people who disrespect you. He’s witnessed the grace you maintain when people who call you a friend voice words of kindness but speak ill about you behind your back. If anything, Sunghoon feels pity for anyone who crosses you to the point of anger. To be envious of another’s confidence is one thing. To make that known is another.

Sunghoon learns that you let your inhibitions go because holding control over yourself feels like a burden. It feels like setting a standard you will never be able to meet. He never thought of order in that way before getting to know you. Your approach to life sparked a new wave of emotions within him to the point where he was open and willing to let you farther into his life.

His days were ruled by guidelines he had to maintain and proper etiquette that followed him even off the rink. The poise he carried from his career on the ice bled into his personal life too. Although, he doesn’t mind that it does. Sunghoon values any form of structure because it makes him feel like he has a purpose and that there’s something to be accomplished at the end of the day.

Most times, Sunghoon’s feels like people judge him for his regimen and can’t fathom why he appreciates control so much. They tell him to let loose and enjoy his time away from his career. People always think he simply doesn’t know how to have fun because he’s set in his ways and won’t let other people coax him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. But not you. Sunghoon has never felt like you‘ve judged how he chooses to live his life.

Before he knew it, a year had passed and he started to call you one of his best friends. The friendship was gradual. Sunghoon didn’t have many close female friends in the way he does with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. You’re the first person since ending his career who hasn’t tried to pry into the why. In fact, Sunghoon enjoys that you didn’t bring it up.

(You did, in the form of cooing over his younger self skating in competitions for the first time or roasting all of the outfits he had to wear. But somehow, all of your jabs made him feel happier than when people complimented his performance.)

Eventually, being around you felt too right. He loved it when you took naps on his bed and felt comfortable raiding your kitchen pantry without permission. Sunghoon could leave you in his apartment without him being in it and feel at ease. In fact, he started to look forward to coming home to you. All it took was seeing you wear his hoodie because you got too cold and forgot your jacket, to make him drop his bag by the front door and ask you to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t regretted anything with you since.

The weather is cold outside since it’s approaching the middle of autumn. You let your car warm up and blast the heat all the way up while adjusting your defrosting settings before heading to the bar to pick up Sunghoon. You sift through your playlists and settle on soft indie melodies before you drive away from the curb.

You’ve never seen Sunghoon get drunk to the point of needing extra help. Usually, you’re the one who goes a little too hard whenever Heeseung brings out the alcohol or if Jake offers an edible or two. Sunghoon likes to sit back and stay sober (or sober up by the end of the night) when he notices you having too much fun. He doesn’t mind, though. Sunghoon likes taking care of you because sometimes it gives him purpose. You’ve never understood that sentiment but to each their own.

The only times you’ve seen him completely wasted are usually when you’re equally as gone, like on your first road trip as a couple. The five of you rented a lakehouse a few hours from Seoul and spent an entire weekend basking under the hot sun and chose to forget about university stress before finals would inevitably kick everyone’s ass. All five of you were cross-faded (but not without Jay and Sunghoon both prepping water bottles and snacks for when the munchies would hit prior to taking anything). You watched Sunghoon relax to the point where he was much quieter than he normally was and when you asked if he was doing alright, he looked you in the eye and told you he loved you for the first time.

I always have, I think, he said as he brought your hand to his chest. You might not believe me because neither of us are sober but I swear I’ll tell you in the morning.

Sunghoon gets affectionate when he’s drunk or high, often to the point of asking for reassurance. The rational side of his brain is temporarily disfigured. You don’t mind being there to tell him that he’s the love of your life and you’d never go anywhere when he gets like this. Although, you’re usually just as gone and gush all of your hidden emotionally-charged feelings, which pair well with Sunghoon’s need for validation sometimes.

Your friends love your relationship. They don’t think it’s too much or too little, going so far as to take photos of the two of you when you aren’t looking. Some are funny like the pictures of you sleeping on his chest with drool pooling out of your mouth. Others are romantic and whimsical, like the pictures of Sunghoon looking at you like you’re the sunshine to his moonlight. They can’t get enough of you two. Your friends love knowing people they care about are deeply in love with one another and your relationship is somewhat of a reminder that true romance does exist.

Thinking about this makes your heart swell as you park your car and tuck your keys inside your purse. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you inside the bar, and you already spot Jay off to the side.

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he gives you a loose hug. “And sorry for waking you up.”

You wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ve probably woken you up for worse.”

“Yeah, like the time you and Jake wanted ramen at 3am and wouldn’t stop calling me because both of you got a little too high.”

“Can you blame us?! You were like, two blocks away.”

“Yeah, but did you need to eat with me?”

“Duh. You’re like, the best person to eat a late night dinner with.”

The two of you laugh as he leads you to the group. You see Sunghoon slumped over the table with his head in his arms and the rest of your friend group tries really hard not to seem too excited when they see you standing next to Jay.

“Fucking finally.” Heeseung stands and gives you a quick side hug before Jake does the same. “Love you guys and all but he started to become unbearable when he kept showing us photos of you.”

Jake snorts. “Poor guy was almost about to cry.” That makes your heart soft.

“He looks so cute,” you coo, tilting your head to savor this moment. It’s abnormal for you to be the sober one but you’re starting to understand why Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking care of you when you’re like this.

Jay comes to stand next to you. “He’s not cute when he drank half his weight in alcohol and wouldn’t shut up about how pretty your hair is.”

“What, do you don’t think my hair’s pretty?” The messy, unbrushed hair is enough to make the guys laugh.

“Nah seriously, thanks for coming,” says Jake. “We felt bad calling you but he refuses to get out of his seat.”

“It’s fine.” You wave him off and step closer to your boyfriend, who still hasn’t moved from his position.

“Do your thing and we’ll be here if you need help bringing him to the car.” Heeseung smiles gratefully at you.

Even the back of Sunghoon’s head is unfairly gorgeous. His hair always looks nice, although you credit that to his younger sister introducing him to a world of hair care products during his skating years. It feels soft to the touch as you stroke the back of his head until Sunghoon slowly comes to. You feel his body start to stir.

“Baby,” you say quietly, bending down until you’re next to him. “Wake up for me.”

“Hm?” Sunghoon mumbles from his arms. He feels the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair and pulls himself from the table, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth before realizing you’re standing next to him. “Y/N?”

“I’m right here.”

He pulls his head up until he’s sitting upright in the booth, squinting up at you to adjust to the bar lights that disappeared when he closed his eyes. Your boyfriend looks so innocent like this. He looks at you with a wide, round gaze as if you’d appeared out of thin air and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how you’re standing in front of him.

“Is it really you?” Sunghoon asks in a quiet voice. His tone makes your heart flutter and you reach your arms out until you’re cupping his jaw and rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. Sunghoon melts into your touch and you feel his body start to relax. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bug. Did you have fun tonight?”

He nods in your hands, “Mhm. Just tired now.”

“Jay said you were asking for me.”

“I always ask for you.” Your cheeks heat up and you try to ignore the snickers from behind you.

“Why don’t we go back to my place, yeah? You can sleep in my bed instead of this bar.”

“Can we? I love the guys but I just missed you.”

“Simp,” Heeseung whispers before coughing into his fist.

Sunghoon stands from the booth once you’ve taken a step back to give him the space to move. He’s surprisingly able to stand on his own and clutches onto his jacket as he makes his way to the door.

“Sorry guys,” he mutters to the guys.

“Yah, it’s fine,” Jay says as he waves Sunghoon off.

“Get home safe,” Heeseung says as he opens the door for the two of you. Sunghoon waves behind him until you guide him to the car.

“Can you put your jacket on for me?” You catch it in your hands after he nearly let them fall from his grasp.

“Shit, sorry.” You watch Sunghoon put on one arm and then the other. He looks so childlike in this moment as he concentrates his hardest to put the jacket on without stumbling.

It reminds you that he doesn’t show you this side of him often. Sunghoon, ever the poised individual who likes to know what’s ahead of him, has let his inhibitions down. Seeing his figure slowly push his body through the warm fabric has you biting back a smile.

“Need help?”

Sunghoon looks down at his hands that are trying to zip his jacket up to no avail. He feels like his hands are too big and the zipper is too small. “Please.”

Your steady fingers cover Sunghoon’s and take over the tedious task. The metal is warm from his fingertips. You can feel him looking down at you and you temporarily fumble with the zipper, which makes him laugh.

“Silly,” he mutters. “Ah, fuck. I don’t know if I can open the door.”

You roll your eyes and open it for him. “You’re funny.”

He slides into the seat as gracefully as he can without hitting his head on the roof. Sunghoon struggles, but manages to buckle himself in and grins up at you when he hears the click of the buckle. When you look down on him, the lamp post from above casts a soft glow on his face. He looks so youthful at this moment. Sunghoon has let go of his thoughts and couldn’t think about anything but the present moment even if he tried.

He waits for you and mumbles about how cold it is when you turn the engine on. The warm air starts to uplift his spirits and he looks at you with us head pressed to the headrest.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

“What?” you ask. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Usually I’m the one taking care of you.”

“You don’t always have to be brave, you know.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to envelope your hand in his and squeezes it until he’s holding it loosely in the quiet of the evening.

“I love you.”

Your heart blooms. “I love you right back.” He seems satisfied with your response and lets go of your hand so that you can drive back to your apartment.

When you park on the curb, Sunghoon’s sober enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and wait for you to turn the engine off before opening his door carefully. He steps outside and leans back on the car door until you walk around the hood of the vehicle and grabs your hands to pull you into him.

You feel his lips on your before you register what’s happening. He tastes faintly of pineapple soju and beer, and his mouth is warm. Despite his inebriated state, Sunghoon’s able to hold you between his hands as he moves to place them on your hips to balance your body after you’ve stumbled into him.

The kiss itself is slow. In fact, it feels as though Sunghoon has slowed time around so that the two of you could enjoy the late night kiss uninterrupted. You can barely hear anything besides the ringing in your ears after being caught by surprise due to your boyfriend’s abrupt movements. Your mouths move in slow tandem and Sunghoon nearly pushes his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.

“My baby,” he whispers against your lips before giving you another quick peck.

“You are so cute.” You blurt out this confession like you’re still pining after him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?”

The apartment is warm compared to the environment outside and Sunghoon slips off his shoes in favor of wearing his designated slippers. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time he does so, letting you pull him into the hallway until the two of you reach your bedroom. The hardwood floors feel better than the uneven pavement from outside.

He loves it here. It’s a sanctuary away from his apartment with the friends he will probably invite to his wedding. But something about your green comforter and hand-painted artwork adorning your walls makes Sunghoon feel like he would live by your side for the rest of his life. The scent of your room–warm peaches and vanilla–tugs at his heart strings. This is where he belongs.

Likewise, you love seeing Sunghoon behave like this. It’s not commonplace for him to let people take care of him in the way you are now. He’s used to people looking out for his career and best interest but he struggles with allowing others to handle him with such care. After a decade of enduring harsh criticism and physical endurance, Sunghoon struggles to relax and allow others to take the reins. It’s partially why he loves taking care of you. Being able to provide that kind of love and support makes him feel wanted and needed, even if you tell him he’s more than enough a thousand times over.

You leave him in your room to change his clothes taken from his designated drawer while you prepare skincare and the works. You hear him shuffle outside and fall onto the bed once, prompting you to hold your laughter in as you wash your hands and pull out hair clips for him to use.

“I can’t lie,” Sunghoon says as you emerge from the bathroom to see him in a big t-shirt and pajama bottoms, “I’m really looking forward to you doing my skincare.”

You snicker and pull your desk chair into the bathroom. “Now you know exactly how I feel every time I beg you to do mine when I’m drunk. Sit and close your eyes, please.”

He follows your instructions and leans his back against the furniture. Sunghoon doesn’t fuss when you pin his hair back until it’s secure and allows you to make him feel pampered in a way he typically wouldn’t.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

Sunghoon hums. “Yeah, I did. The guys picked me up from my place and we had lunch at that seafood spot we’ve been meaning to try.”

“Was it any good?”

“So good.” He licks his lips. “God, I’m still thinking about that shellfish soup. We ordered enough food to feed a village but it was so worth it. I wanna go with you.”

“We can go wherever you want.” He smiles at your soft tone.

“We also went to the beach and met some guys at the skate park by the highway. They were pretty nice and let us use their boards for a little. Heeseung got along with them the best, I think.”

“Heeseung makes friends with everybody.”

“He says he’s not social but that’s a lie.” Sunghoon twitches his nose when he feels a damp washcloth on his face. “We went to the bar afterwards and split it by round. I got the first and honestly, I don’t remember much after that.”

“How are you feeling now, though?” you ask as you finish patting his skin dry. “Do you still feel dizzy?” Sunghoon opens his eyes and watches you apply a serum before dabbing it all over his face.

“Not as much as before. I think I’m just tired.”

“And clingy, apparently.”

Sunghoon smacks the back of your thighs. “Shut up. You love it.” You silence him by kissing his nose.

While he brushes his teeth, you situate yourself underneath your plush covers and allow the weight of the blanket to fall on top of you. The sweet promise of a good night’s rest feels imminent, especially when you see your boyfriend emerge from the bathroom. He turns off the light and walks towards the empty side of the bed before he’s slipping himself beside you.

Sunghoon’s an equal opportunist when it comes to sleeping positions. He loves it the most when your head is on his chest and when your arms are tangled in one another because he likes knowing that the two of you yearn for each other equally. But when he gets like this, Sunghoon takes initiative to maneuver himself until half of his chest and head are on top of you. He situates his arm around your waist and pulls himself closer to your body until a deep, satisfied sigh comes from the back of his throat.

He hums in appreciation when your fingers begin to massage his scalp. Sunghoon’s hair is soft and silky and on most days, you’re the only person who gets to touch it. The slowness of your movements paired with the soft kiss you place on his temple makes his eyelids feel heavy.

“Sorry you had to come pick me up,” Sunghoon mumbles against you. “I know we agreed to give each other some space this weekend.”

“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.” He feels you kiss the crown of his head. “Plus, we both know you’d do the same for me.”

Sunghoon nods. “I would. You’re my girlfriend. Duh.” His sleepy nonsense makes you laugh.

“You can go back to hanging out with the guys tomorrow if you want.” He shakes his head.

“I want to get breakfast with you.” Sunghoon finds your free hand and presses a sleepy kiss to the back of it.

“Whatever you want. We can get breakfast.”

“If we wake up early enough.”

You laugh again. “Yes, if we wake up early enough.”

Sunghoon mumbles a few incoherent words that you can’t quite make out because of your own tiredness. When your own eyes start to droop, Sunghoon feels your fingers start to falter and looks up at you to see you’ve fallen fast asleep.

He kisses the underside of your chin and falls asleep too.

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

#enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #kpop x reader #enha x reader #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon #my writing*

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hairmetal666 · 8 months ago

Text

Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.

But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.

The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.

He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--

What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.

There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.

He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.

Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.

The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.

He's beautiful.

The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.

Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--

He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.

---

Steve goes back the next night.

He doesn't mean to; didn't have any plans to do it, but the clock turns to 9 and he pulls on the same slutty jeans, this time with an old blue t-shirt a size too small.

It's not because Eddie could be there again, he reassures himself as he shows the bouncer his ID. It's not like he wants to see him or has been thinking about him nonstop. No, it's because tonight's the night he finally makes a move. He needed a test run to find his footing, but now--

Eddie's at the bar. His hair is pulled up, loose tendrils around his face. No jacket this time; the rolled up sleeves of his black t-shirt showing off his wiry muscles, the swirling ink of his tattoos. Something low and hot clenches in Steve's stomach.

There's no way he's going to be preoccupied with Munson tonight. He came here to flirt and dance and maybe get lucky, and he'll ignore Eddie. He will.

Steve orders a beer, sits at the bar this time, his eyes lingering on black ink and pale skin. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the ease and assurance Eddie moves with. He's so unafraid to take up space, it's intoxicating.

He loses track of Munson when he orders a second drink, his face no longer immediately visible in the crowd. Disappointment sinks his stomach until a voice to his left says, "You better be planning to buy me a drink, pretty boy."

The voice is low, oddly melodic, and he turns to find Eddie Munson's sparkling brown eyes gazing down at him. He's surprised, hides it, says, "Sure. What are you having?"

Eddie's mouth opens, but his eyes narrow. "Wait--Steve Harrington??"

"Um." His mouth goes dry. "Munson. Hi?"

"I--uh--wouldn't think this was your scene." Eddie shifts back, puts distance between them, and Steve hates it. Hates that Munson thinks the space is necessary, hates that he used to a person that made people feel that way.

"Yeah, well. A lot has changed since high school."

"Is that right? Surely not this much."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's eyebrow lifts, but his mouth is a tight line. "Have a cigarette with me."

Steve nods and follows him out a side door into a narrow alley. Eddie pulls out two cigarettes, hands one to Steve. There's something about the cold politeness that sends a fizzle of disappointment down his spine.

"What brings you here?" Eddie asks.

"To Chicago or to this club?"

"Don't be cute."

"Can't help it." He smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. "I moved to Chicago three months ago with my best friend, Robin. I'm at this club trying to explore my bisexuality."

Eddie's in the middle of taking a drag, splutters on the smoke. "Holy Shit."

He shrugs, knows he's blushing. "What can I say? I've spent the last few years learning about myself."

"And one of the things was that you like dick?"

"Looks like it."

'Well, goddamn, Steve Harrington."

"Impressed?"

Eddie licks his lips, steps closer. "Maybe I am."

"I aim to please." Steve lets himself grin.

"I bet you do," Eddie's voice goes even lower, and heat dances deep in Steve's stomach. "Wanna dance?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Steve blinks up at Eddie from under his eyelashes.

They go inside and join the bodies packed on the dance floor. At first, they keep their distance, dancing and laughing with an arm's length between them, but it's not long before they're drawn together, arms twining, legs pressed together. Their eyes lock, Steve can't look away, wouldn't even if he wanted to. Eddie's hands go to his waist, pull him closer.

"You're gorgeous, Harrington," he says it with his lips pressed to Steve's ear, goosebumps spreading across his skin.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

Eddie's mouth presses closer. "I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school."

"Fuck, Eddie," he says. "That's so--"

"Weird?"

"Fucking hot, dude."

"Can I tell you another secret?" Eddie's voice is all rumble.

"Course,"

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

"You could do something about it."

Eddie smiles, eyes going darker, almost predatory. He leans in, their breath mingling, Steve's hitching.

"You sure you want me to?" Eddie asks, mouth barely brushing Steve's.

"Please," and it comes out like he's been punched.

He thinks the kiss will be hard, hot, but Eddie's hand is gentle as it cups the back of his head, slowly pulls him in. It's a soft meeting of mouths, almost tender. His head is swimming, blood thrumming low and hot and sweet. He parts his lips and then all he can feel, taste, sense is Eddie.

It cracks something inside him, and his fingers dig into the fabric of Eddie's shirt, eagerly licking into his mouth. It must crack something in Eddie too, because he's hauling Steve impossibly closer until his legs have to wrap around Eddie's waist, or they're falling.

They break apart with a breathless laugh, both red cheeked and bright eyed. They don't move apart, instead they dance and make out until the music stops and the lights come up.

Eddie twines their fingers together as they walk to the exit, Steve sweaty and elated and a little head over heels.

Out on the sidewalk, basking in the cool air, Eddie stops him. "Can I--uh, take you for a drink? Or back to my place? I don't--not to assume, but I--"

"Both. Anywhere," Steve laughs. "I don't want this night to end."

Eddie's smile is brilliant, heart stopping. "Your wish is my command."

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sevikasbooyahh · 5 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐇𝐂'𝐬

Just random random headcannons about my wife <3

She makes lots of noises; grunts, sighs, groans. It’s basically a language that only you can understand at this point.

“Hmph,” she grunted with her usual grumpy expression. “You want cuddles?” She nods her head in response.

Snores but denies it. It’s like when you’re sharing a hotel room with your family and your dad’s snoring keeps you awake; staring at the ceiling. You’ve told her multiple times but she just doesn’t believe it.

“You kept me awake all night,” you said in disbelief as your utterly exhausted eyes met hers. “Uh-huh, how? Do NOT say because I was snoring.””You were snoring.”

But in all seriousness, she started sleeping on her side—the snoring was due to her sleeping on her back.

Doesn’t care for public affection, not that she won’t slip her arm around your waist or have her hand on your thigh once in a while—but it isn’t often.

(Saw someone else say this)—absolutely loves dad jokes. She won’t laugh at anything else but dad jokes.

“Hey babe,” you slid next to her on the couch. “Hm?””What days are the strongest?“ you asked. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Saturday and Sunday,” you started to smile. “Why?” She was slightly curious. “‘Cause the rest are weekdays,” she couldn’t even hold it before she burst out laughing.

Takes her mechanical arm off before she goes to bed because she doesn’t wanna hurt you.

Tough with everyone else but you, Jinx and Isha (they’re alive and well).

Isha made a cheerful noise as she raised her tea cup. Sevika sat across from her, hunched over the small table, teacup in hand. She pretended to drink from it, “Mm, nice.”

Perfers actions over words—for example, her version of an apology is by doing more of what she should’ve done in the past. If she wasn’t spending much time with you before, she’d immediately take it upon herself to fix her schedule.

VERY protective, especially when you’re at The Last Drop, nothing escapes her vision.

Once, this guy attempted to flirt with you but before he could get a word out, he was immediately met with a deadly glare from her. She pulled you closer towards her with a raised eyebrow, “You got something to say?” That sent him babbling in fear, “Uh-no, no, of course not!—“”Get out of my sight.”

Claims she’s not an animal person but will come home with a kitten she found on the street.

“It wouldn’t stop following me,” she said while avoiding eye contact with you. You knew she was lying.

Sometimes when she comes back from work she’ll just collapse on the couch. She’s a busy woman, alright?

Jinx cut her hair then made fun of her afterwards.

Jinx cackled after she looked at the final product, “Sweetcheeks ain’t gonna love you now, are they?” The older woman simply grumbled under breath, “You’re the one who cut it.””Yeah and I made it ugly on purpose.”

You ended up loving her hair anyway.

Secretly likes when you lay on top of her; loves seeing how comfortable you are

She’s always warm; your personal heater

Somehow gives the best hugs—bear hugs, but is so awkward with it

Takes the longest showers known to mankind; once she gets in, be prepared to wait about an hour. Meanwhile, half the time it’s just her staring at the wall.

Will let Isha climb her on rare occasions; sometimes the girl gets insanely hyper and is moving all over the place.

Says she’s “not fond of kids” but has a soft spot for them.

A little boy with blue-dyed hair walked up to her while she was outside one day. “H-hi, can you please sign this?” He asked in a soft-spoken manner, showing a drawing, offered with a crayon. She didn’t respond but took the paper and signed her name on the back. Internally, she was in disbelief that this boy looked up to her in some way. “Thank you!” He gave a big smile before running back to his group of friends, happily showing them the signature. A twitch edged at the end of her mouth.

#ARCANE #i love sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevikasbooyahhworks #headcanons #sevika headcanon

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briefinquiries · 10 months ago

Text

Tyler Owens x Reader: No Hesitation

Request: From anonymous: “I had an idea for Tyler Owens!! I feel like Tyler would be the type of guy that if a girl came up to him and said ‘this guy is creepy, pls pretend to be my bf’ he would be like ‘hell yay’ and scare the guy away without making the girl uncomfortable?? Maybe you could do a scenario like that with reader?? Thank youuu!!! Lots of love!!”

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: guys.... i'm down bad for tyler owens, pls send help (or requests so i can keep writing about him). anywayyy, enjoy!

“You comin’ T?” Boone asked as he peered into Tyler’s motel room.

Tyler glanced up from where he sat on the edge of his creaky, double mattress and nodded. “Yeah, I just need to grab a shirt that doesn’t smell like pig shit.”

“Good luck with that,” Boone chuckled. “We haven't done laundry in almost three weeks– just about everything in my bag smells like pig shit.”

“Maybe it’s time we popped home for a bit,” Tyler muttered as he continued digging through his bag. Finally, he pulled out an unused, plain, T-shirt that had been folded at the bottom of his duffel. “What kind of place is this, Boone?” he asked as he pulled the shirt over his head.

“Just a bar, man. Nothin’ fancy. They got darts though, and a pool table. Which, by the way, I bet you fifty bucks I can smoke you at.”

“Boone, you don’t even have fifty bucks,” Tyler replied, shaking his head. He stood up from the bed and joined his friend in the hallway, shutting his motel room door behind him.

“Do too,” Boone said defensively as they began walking towards the parking lot to join the rest of the team.

“Oh you mean the fifty bucks I gave you to get the van’s oil changed last week? Which now I’m assuming you never did–”

“An honest mistake,” Boone said, putting his hands up in surrender. “They were closed the day you gave it to me, then I’ll be honest, I forgot about it. But my point is, beat me at pool and that money is yours again.”

“I don’t want the money to be mine again, I want the van to get an oil change.”

“Well you get your fifty bucks back and you can use it for whatever you’d like– oil change included.”

Tyler shook his head, knowing there was no use arguing with his friend.

“What’re you two love birds arguing about now?” Lilly asked. She was perched on the hood of Tyler’s truck looking at footage she’d taken from her drone earlier in the day.

“T’s too scared to play me in pool,” Boone answered before Tyler could.

“Aw,” Lilly said teasingly. “Nothin’ to be scared of. We’ll still love ya, even if Boone kicks your ass.”

“Yeah, T,” Dani added from the front seat of the van. They had the door kicked open and their feet resting out the rolled down window. “There’s no shame in losin’. Only in never trying.”

“I oughta just leave the lot of you behind. Me and Dexter can take things from here. Isn’t that right, Dex?”

“Sure,” Dexter said casually. “But I’ll have you know I can also beat your ass at pool.”

“Unbelievable,” Tyler muttered to himself. “Who’s ridin’ with me?”

Lilly and Boone’s hands shot up. “Shotgun,” Boone announced.

“You always get shotgun,” Lilly muttered as she climbed into the backseat of his truck.

“We’ll meet you guys there,” Dani said as they pulled their feet into the van and started it up. Dexter climbed into the passenger seat and then the group of them were off.

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the bar Boone had been going on about all day. He insisted they served the best chicken wings in all of Tulsa. Tyler would be the judge of that.

The parking lot was relatively full– but not surprisingly so for a Saturday night.

“If you have more than three drinks, you’re ridin’ back with Dani, you understand?” Tyler said to Boone as the five of them walked into the bar together. “I’m not havin’ you get sick in my truck for a second time.”

“Whatever you say, Dad,” Boone said sarcastically. “I’m gonna mark my territory at the pool table– let ‘em know we’re next. Grab me whatever’s on tap, will ya?”

He didn’t even wait for Tyler’s confirmation before darting off, Dani and Dexter on his tail.

Meanwhile, Tyler and Lilly made their way to the bar to order for everyone else. “Man, he’s full of it today,” he muttered once they reached the counter.

“Yeah, well. We’re all a little restless,” Lilly admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks without much action. Boone’s kinda like a puppy. Except instead of walks he needs adrenaline rushes and excessive fun. Tonight’ll be good for him.”

Tyler chuckled as he turned to check where the bartender was at. Except, as soon as he did, his elbow collided with the person beside him.

“Sorry–” he said quickly, eyes wandering down.

His words caught in his mouth at the sight of an unfamiliar, but beautiful girl. You were gazing back up at him with equal surprise, mouth hung open slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“That’s okay,” you answered quickly. “I was standin’ too close.”

“No other way to really do it in here it seems,” he said.

You smiled sweetly. “I know– it’s never this busy here, even on the weekends.”

“You come here a lot?” he asked, just trying to keep the conversation going.

“I wouldn’t say a lot, but enough. Any time I have a hankering for some wings.”

Tyler adjusted his body so that he was facing you entirely now. He was boxing Lilly out– but she’d understand. Especially after she got a look at how gorgeous you were. “You know, my buddy said they were good. I didn’t entirely believe him. But if you say so…”

“You’re gonna trust a total stranger over your buddy?” you asked teasingly.

Tyler tilted his head to the side. “If you met my buddy, you’d understand why. You know we’re all gonna play some pool in a bit if you wanted to–”

“Hey Y/N, there you are!” Tyler heard someone say, cutting him off. He watched as your head snapped around. A man– tall with broad shoulders and black hair, was pushing through the crowd towards you.

“I gotta go,” you said to Tyler quickly, instantly causing his shoulders to fall. “Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too,” he grumbled. He turned back towards the bar to avoid seeing you reunite with who he supposed was probably your boyfriend.

“Don’t sweat it, T,” Lilly said, clapping him on the back. “You’ll get the next one.”

Tyler rolled his eyes, kicking himself for letting himself get his hopes up over a stupid, two minute conversation.

Once he and Lilly got everyone’s drinks, the pair of them made their way back towards the pool table which Boone had successfully taken over. No time was wasted before Boone was insisting the pair play.

To Tyler’s absolute dismay– he really did suck.

He lost three games in a row before finally calling it quits. He opted to sit at a high top table with Dexter, watching Lilly and Boone compete instead.

Tyler was just about to throw down the last of his beer when suddenly, he felt an arm loop through his. He turned to tell who he assumed was Dani, that they’d had way too much to drink, but before he could, a voice (that certainly didn't match Dani’s) rang out.

“Hi baby, there you are!”

Dexter, who was sitting across from Tyler, glanced at him surprised.

Tyler looked to his left and locked eyes with the same girl from the bar earlier. Except now, she was gazing at Tyler desperately. Without warning and before Tyler could even react, you leaned closer to him.

In a hurried whisper, you spoke so that only Tyler could hear. “There’s a guy over there. I keep asking him to, but he won’t leave me alone– can you just pretend to know me so that he’ll go away?”

Then, you press your lips to the side of Tyler’s cheek quickly, like it was a gesture the two of you had shared thousands of times. You continued holding on to his arm, your eyes wildly trying to communicate how terrified you clearly were, as you looked pleadingly at him to help you.

Tyler’s face broke out into a huge grin as he, with absolutely no hesitation, took on the role of boyfriend for a complete stranger. He wiggled his arm out of your grasp and instead wound it around your waist, pulling you tightly into his side.

You were taken aback by how secure and safe you suddenly felt.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Tyler replied. He could visibly see the look of relief that washed over your face once you realized he had decided to play along.

Tyler tugged at your hip, indicating that he wanted you to lean in closer. You took his hint and tilted your head towards him.

“Which guy is it?” he asked discreetly.

“Red shirt, black hair,” you mumbled quietly. It was only then that you notice the other man sharing the table with your rescuer. You offered him an apologetic smile, hoping that he was intuitive enough to pick up on the cues you’d been dropping.

Next you noticed the rest of his group scattered around the pool table. Initially, they were in the middle of a game when you came over, but now, their attention had shifted. You glanced at the beautiful girl with tanned skin and long, braided hair, holding a pool stick. She offered you a small, but cautious smile. You hoped it wasn’t her boyfriend you were currently draped over. Then, there’s another guy– with messy black hair topped with an old, worn ball cap. He had a confused look on his face, but when the girl leaned over and whispered something in his ear, his eyes lit up in understanding.

The man you were clinging to rubbed your hip bone gently with his thumb. The sensation sent sparks across the entire surface of your skin. You wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

You’d seen him at the bar earlier and had gotten a good, gut feeling about his demeanor. He seemed genuine and kind– even though you’d only managed about a two minute conversation with him before the man who’d been following you around all night came back. It wasn’t until after you darted off that you realized you should have just explained what was going on right then and there.

You’d realized he was handsome earlier, but this was the first time you’d gotten a good look at him up close, now that your nerves had calmed down and you felt like you were able to breathe again. You wanted to give yourself a pat on the back, because it seemed like you’d chosen the best looking man in the entire bar, if not world, to be your pretend boyfriend. He had distinct features– a strong jaw, tanned skin, and eyes so green, it made you feel like spring was blooming. His brows were furrowed into a firm line as he scoured the bar nonchalantly, looking for the man who had led you to him. You felt grateful that this complete stranger cared enough to help you out.

“That him?” he asked, nodding in the direction he wanted you to look.

You turned your head and watched in dismay as the creepy man from earlier approached.

“Shit– yes.”

“I got ya, don’t worry,” he murmured gently. “Can I help you?” he asked, turning once the man was within earshot.

He stopped in his tracks, eyes glued to you. “I was jus’ lookin’ for her,” the man said, words slurring together.

“And what use do you have for my girlfriend?” he challenged, grip around your waist tightening.

“Sorry man– she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.”

“But she did tell you to leave her alone, right?”

“Yeah, jus’ thought she was playin’ hard to get. You know how these girls can be–”

“No, I don’t actually,” Tyler said. “I think if she said leave her alone… you should probably leave her alone.”

The man put his hands up in surrender. “Easy man, I didn’t mean any harm by it. Like I said, I didn’t realize she was taken.”

“I don’t think you’re getting it–” Tyler said, standing up from his chair to face the man. You were surprised by how cold you felt without his hand around your waist.

“You don’t get to just choose to respect her now that you know she has a boyfriend.”

“You tryin’ to start something here, man?” The guy narrowed his beady eyes.

“Why? You offerin?” Tyler took another step forward, anger surging in his chest faster than he anticipated.

“Might be,” the man said, meeting Tyler halfway. The two were face to face now– things were escalating.

But before things could get out of hand, the guy from behind the pool table hurried over. “Easy, T–” he placed a hand on his shoulder before facing the guy. “Why don’t you just back off, man? Get outta here.”

“Yeah, c’mon–” two more people from his group stepped forward. Like a small army, you thought. All stepping up to protect you– a total stranger.

There was a brief moment where the man studied the scene before him. Then, like he realized that taking on the four people defending you was a bad idea, he backed off.

“Whatever, she’s not worth it anyway,” he said, throwing you one, final nasty glare before turning and stalking off.

You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until you saw him walk out the front door. Only when it snapped shut behind him were you able to exhale a shaky sigh.

That guy’s been following me all night. I thought I could handle it, but then he got really mad when I wouldn’t let him give me a drink,” you said shakily.

“What a creep,” one of them said.

“Thank you so much–” you said, utterly relieved. Then, you introduced yourself to the table of people you’d abruptly intruded upon.

“Don’t mention it, glad we could help. I’m Tyler.”

The others had gathered around the table now and each introduced themselves as well.

“You were right to trust your gut,” Dani said, offering you a reassuring nod.

“Yeah, who knows what that creep might’ve stuck in your drink.”

You shivered at the thought.

“Well, I guess I’m glad I crashed your table then,” you smiled, turning to Tyler. For more than one reason, you thought, taking in the sweet laughter lines around his eyes and full lips. You caught yourself staring and forcibly looked away. You weren’t even drunk, but Tyler made your head spin.

“Anyways, I should go,” you said quickly. You had to remind yourself of the circumstances. You’d practically mauled Tyler in front of his friends and forced him to get into a brawl in the middle of the bar. And no matter how breathtakingly attractive you found him, there was no denying the fact that this entire situation was awkward and uncomfortable. You cleared your throat. “I’m really sorry for intruding, thank you again.”

Tyler was still entirely dumbstruck, even as you walked away. It was like his brain couldn’t keep up with whatever the hell just happened. He watched as you disappeared through the crowd of people.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Dani spoke up.

“Huh?” Tyler turns towards them.

“She was into you, Tyler.”

He wasn’t sure he heard them right. The bar was loud and Tyler’s mind wasn’t working properly tonight, thanks to you and whatever perfume you’d been wearing.

Lilly nodded her head in agreement, “And if I had to guess by the drool on your chin, I’d say you were into her too.”

Feeling a little ganged up on, Tyler just stares at his team in disbelief. “I don’t– I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Boone shook his head and chuckled as he walked back towards the pool table. “Man, I have never– in our entire ten years of friendship, seen a girl leave Tyler Owens speechless– this one might be special folks,” Boone chuckled.

“Go after her, you dummy,” Lilly said.

“And do what?” Tyler asked.

Dani scoffed, “Talk to her– invite her back to the table– literally anything but let her just walk away, you idiot.”

Slightly offended, but more motivated, Tyler stood up from the table and finally took the last sip of his beer. It was warm, but he used it as a final attempt at some liquid courage, before striding off after you. The crowd of people was thick, but he was confident that no matter where you were, you’d stand out.

Sure enough, he spotted you across the bar. You had left your glass on the counter and were currently shifting through your bag, looking for something. Tyler took a deep breath before walking over.

He called your name, which he was proud to now know, causing you to look up from your things.

“Tyler, hey,” you said, unable to hide the surprised smile that crept across your face.

“So that was pretty weird, huh–” Tyler tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but all he did was realize how dry his mouth was.

You bit your lip, “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make it weird– I just– I was scared. He was so creepy, and you just looked like you’d make a good fake date…”

Oh my god, what were you saying? You were rambling, like you always did when you were nervous. You took another sip of your drink, wishing it was something stronger.

But a smirk crept up on Tyler’s face, like he could tell you were floundering.

“Oh yeah?” His voice was playful. “And how do you think I’d be as a real date?”

Butterflies ran rampant in your stomach as you clenched down on your jaw, trying to play it cool. But it was hard to remain casual when you were pretty sure Tyler was asking you out.

Your voice was hitched slightly higher than normal when you responded, “I think I’d like to find out sometime.”

Tyler flashed his white teeth in a stunning smile before nodding back towards the table he’d just come from. “How about we start now? I got a hankering for some wings, what do you say I get us a plate to share?”

With no hesitation, you reached for his outstretched hand.

“Should we eat before or after I kick your ass at pool?” you smiled sweetly.

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