#i have so many feelings inside that i felt i couldn't write them with words

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

This is another music inspired fic! Logan is obsessed with the reader once more. Request are open! I kind of want to try to write for worst! Logan so please send ideas <3 If you enjoy my work please like, comment, and reblog it really helps me stay motivated

There was something about him you just couldn't explain. Something just drew you into him even though everyone tells you not to get too close. Some called him the devil in disguise, you just called him Logan after you finally learned his name. You are completely under his spell, but you don't regret it.

You tried to avoid him, to avoid the mysterious devil but the more you avoided the more you wanted to know him. Finally, you were cornered by him one night and that's when you noticed his eyes. Somethings about them just called to you, they held so much in them, and you needed to know what he was hiding, what he has experienced, you needed him to let you in.

Logan was obsessed with you from the moment he saw you, he made you a promise the night he cornered you; "If you let me inside, I won't hold back, I don't care how many times it takes to get through to you, you will be mine." A shiver ran down your spine as the words echoed through your ears, you could tell Logan was a man of his word.

Darkness always seemed to follow him, even when he was younger darkness had a way of just creeping in and surrounding him until it became his home, it became his comfort.

That was something you learned quickly after meeting him. There's a darkness within him, you could feel it in his touch. You knew you should get away but the more you talked to him and the more you felt his lips burn into your skin you had to admit defeat and accept that you wanted him too much.

He had a way of taking your breath, you never put up much of a fight but if he came to you and asked to rip open your chest you would let him take whatever was left in there that he hadn't already stolen. You were completely under his spell, but you didn't regret any of it.

The people around you were worried for you. Anyone could see how obsessive you were towards Logan, and they could see how possessive he was over you. They wanted to try and take you away from him, "When you're with him it's like you're possessed by something strong, something dark. I'm worried for you." Your friends tried to convince you to leave, to move but it was too late. Maybe you were possessed by something strong, maybe it was his angel eyes that had such a hold on you, maybe it was his darkness possessing you too but whatever it was, you couldn't just leave.

When Logan found out people were trying to take you away from him, the darkness from within escapes him faster than he could stop it. You came home and he could tell something was wrong "Darlin' what happened?" You knew better than to lie, knew he would figure it out, so you told him everything they asked of you. Logan never liked your friends; always thought they were nosey. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him "Darling what we have is a force that not even God can stop, they just need to know you're fucking mine." He kissed your head and as you started to calm down from your emotionally exhausting day, he started to plan what he should do about the people that now needed to be removed from your life.

You were his and he refused to let anyone take what was his.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@with-ears-to-see-eyes-to-hear

[chunghasweetie]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍’ 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x husband!jjk

— summary | jungkook’s been working non stop and you’re finally sick of repeating yourself (healthy argument)

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best) medium angst, workaholic jk, makeup sex, mentions of breeding kink, unprotected sex

— word count | 2.8k words

— song suggestion | thinking about you — ariana grande

He knew he messed up. Big time.

It was very late at night. Damn near 2am.

Jungkook had just barely arrived home to a silent house. He walked into his twin babies room, noticing that both baby Hiro and baby Liyah were already asleep for the night.

He hadn’t seen them in days.

He was working like crazy recently, going into work when he really didn’t need to.

He ran his own car line and was always on top of it when it came to work. The last month he had hardly ever been home long enough to interact with his family.

His wife knew what she was getting into when she married him. She knew his company was important to him and she completely understood.

But recently things had been different lately. He was missing doctors appointments, events, and simply quality time with her and their babies.

The twins were around 7 months old and were definitely a handful for his wife. She could handle everything on her own but it wasn’t always easy.

She needed him.

Tonight he really messed up.

He opened his room door, seeing his wife on her phone. He had promised her that he’d get off early to attend a family gathering but he chose to work again.

He knew she was greatly upset. “Hey baby” He announced his presence, cracking their door open behind him.

“Hey.” She replied dryly, not looking up from her phone.

She was beyond pissed and he could instantly sense it.

Jungkook walked over to her side of the bed, sitting down beside her. He knew she was upset with him, and he couldn't blame her.

"Y/n,I'm sorry. I really am." His voice was low, sincere, and full of regret. “I just got caught up baby.”

She didn’t say anything, simply rolling her eyes.

Jungkook's heart sank as he saw her roll her eyes. He knew he hurt her, and it was killing him inside.

He reached out and gently took her phone, setting it aside on the nightstand. "Baby, please look at me. I really am sorry."

“It’s fine, Jungkook.” The irritation was visible on her face. He’s been working all day and night and she needed him around.

She hardly ever seen him. He promised her he would go with her and he still didn’t go. She was hurting.

Jungkook felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he saw the hurt and disappointment in her eyes.

"Baby, I know it's not fine. I messed up. I promised you that I would go to the party with you, and I didn't show up." He admitted.

“You know how fucking embarrassing it was?” She looked at him.

“I looked like a hot mess today Jungkook and everyone felt sooo bad for me and I felt so humiliated” She continued.

Jungkook's heart ached as he saw the pain and embarrassment in her eyes.

He took her hand in his, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry, baby. I should have been there with you. It must have been awful for you."

“Yeah you fucking should’ve.” She rolled her eyes once more. “You begged me for a fucking baby and I gave you twins and you can’t even show up for them. I’ve been doing everything myself.”

Jungkook's heart sank as he heard her words, a knot forming in his stomach. "I know, baby. I'm sorry. I never meant for you to feel like you’re on your own."

He pulled her into a tight hug, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "I’m so sorry gorgeous.”

“Jungkook we’ve had this conversation so many times.” She shook her head “You’re a fucking workaholic.”

He knew she was right. There was no denying he was putting work over his family. He knew he had to make a change.

Jungkook sighed as he felt her frustration and disappointment. He couldn't believe he had let things get this bad between them.

"You're right, Y/n. I've been a workaholic, not giving you the attention you deserve." He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes.

“It’s not even me it’s your kids you need to be there for. I know they’re babies and they won’t remember but they still need you Jungkook. I need you.” She sniffed, obviously stressed and fighting tears.

“You missed it, earlier at the function Hiro was trying to crawl.” She then broke down, letting her tears fall. “And you missed it.”

“Fuck.” Jungkook listened to her, realizing the true extent of the damage he had caused. He felt guiltier than ever.

"I know, Y/n. I've been selfish, thinking only about work, neglecting my children and my beautiful wife." He sighed. “You shouldn’t have to suffer on your own.”

“I just want change. I-I just don’t know what else to do.” She sighed. “Both twins were crying and needy. E-Everyone was doubting me like I couldn’t take care of my own kids.”

Jungkook's heart ached as he heard the pain in her voice. He couldn't bear the thought of her feeling alone in this, feeling like she wasn't doing enough.

He reached out and gently took her hand. "Listen to me, Y/n," he said softly, "You are the perfect mother. You are capable and strong and loving.”

He continued, “I was wrong to leave it all on you and I promise that I will change. I will be there for our children, I will support you in every way possible. And to those who doubt you, let them eat shit."

She cried more at his words, hardly able to compose herself. Jungkook's heart swelled with love at the sight of her emotion.

He pulled her into a tight embrace and whispered soothing words into her ear. "Shh, it's okay, mama. I'm here for you now, always. I will never let you down again."

“Please mean it this time.” She hiccuped.

Jungkook cupped her face gently and locked eyes with her.

"I have never been more serious about anything in my life. I love you and our children more than words can express. I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to make things right and earn your trust back."

Jungkook's heart ached at the sight of her tears.

He pulled her into a kiss, caressing her back gently. "It's okay, mama. I understand. I'm here for you now. What do you need me to do to make you feel better? I’ll drop everything immediately for us baby.”

“Can you just stay home tomorrow? Spend time with the babies— That’s all I want.”

Jungkook smiled softly at her and held her closely, rubbing her back soothingly.

"Of course beautiful. I will stay home tomorrow. I will be here for you all day, just like you deserve. I love you." He then kissed her forehead.

“I’ll stay home with you tomorrow, the next day, next week, next month. Shit, I’ll stay home with you until they’re in preschool.” He told her, making her eyes widen.

He knew he needed to do this. Her crying and confronting him gave him the wake up call he really needed. She didn’t deserve anything he was going to her and the kids didn’t deserve it either.

He wanted a baby so bad and he was fortunate enough to have his wife give him

two. He was taking that all for granted and

he knew that now.

“I love you too.” She wiped her eyes.

Jungkook's eyes shone with love and devotion as he looked at her. "I am so lucky to have a wife like you, mama. You are my everything."

He gently wiped away the remaining tears and hugged her tighter, feeling his heart swell with love for her.

“I’m luckier. I know I complain and I bitch at you a lot but I do really love you.” She told him, pecking his lips.

Jungkook's heart fluttered at her affectionate peck on his lips.

He smiled, feeling grateful for her. "You are amazing, mama. And I know we have our moments, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

Jungkook chuckled and deepened their kiss, feeling his love for her grow even more.

He kissed her passionately, savoring the taste of her lips and feeling his heart race with excitement. "I would do anything for you, Y/n. You’re my world.”

Jungkook smiled against her lips, feeling his heart swell with happiness. He deepened their kiss even further, his hands roaming over her body possessively. "You make me complete, mama. You are my weakness."

“Am I?” She giggled against his lips.

Jungkook couldn't help but chuckle at her teasing tone. He nodded and nuzzled his nose against hers.

"Yes, you are. You have me wrapped around your finger, and you know it." He gave her lips another kiss.

He couldn't get enough of her, couldn't stop himself from kissing her. "Mama, you make me so happy." He whispered the words against her lips, before pulling back slightly to look at her. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you babe” She blushed.

"I wanna make this up to you" He leaned down to kiss her neck, making her giggle and squirm in his arms.

She let him kiss all over her neck, loving how much attention he gave her.

He moved his lips from her neck to her lips, kiss immediately turned hot in seconds.

She made out with him on their bed, giving wet sloppy kisses.

Jungkook groaned as she started to kiss him, his arms tightening around her as he returned the kiss.

He couldn't get enough of her, couldn't stop himself from deepening the kiss. "Fuck mama..."

The two hadn’t got into it in some time. He had been working and she was always occupied with something else.

Now with built up emotions, it was just the time to ease up with one another.

Jungkook pulled back slightly, looking at her with a heated gaze. "You are so fucking beautiful."

He leaned in to kiss her again, before pulling back and standing up from the bed. "Wanna have you now. Gotta show my woman some

love.”

“You’re gonna make it up to me like this?” She bit her lips

“You want it don’t you?” Jungkook smiled into the kiss, his hands reaching for her silky pajama shirt. He tugged it up over her head, revealing her lacy red bra.

"You are so fucking hot, Y/n." He whispered against her lips, before leaning in to capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss once more.

“I know. You have a hot wife who still tries to look good for you.” She smirked against his lips.

Jungkook chuckled, his hands reaching for the clasp of her bra. "And I’m beyond grateful. She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Getting impatient baby.” She licked her lips, eyeing him.

Jungkook groaned at her words, his hands reaching for the button of his pants. "You have no idea how much I want you, mama."

He murmured, before pulling down his pants and boxers, revealing his hard cock. "I'm going to do you so good baby.”

“Better not disappoint me.” She replied jokingly.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning in to kiss her again. "I would never disappoint you and you know that.." He whispered, before guiding himself inside of her.

The couple both gasped as he slipped himself inside.

“Oh fuck” He looked down. “Missed this so much. To think I was missing this for work.”

“Fucking finally. Needed this.” She cursed, still taking him in. She was desperate for him.

Jungkook groaned at her words, thrusting deeper into her. "You feel so fucking good, mama." He growled, his hands gripping onto her hips as he moved in and out of her. “So fucking tight.”

“You could’ve been had this.” She hummed, “That’s your fault.”

"I'm sorry, mama. I know I've been working a lot lately." He whispered, kissing her neck. "But you're all I think about when I'm gone. I promise.”

“You sure? Prove it then.” She cocked her eyebrow.

Jungkook smirked, going harder into her, showing her just how much he loves and desires her.

"You think I'm not capable?" He growled in her ear before kissing her hard as he continued his thrusting. "You're the only thing on my mind."

Jungkook slammed into her, making her mouths shoot open in surprise at his new brute force.

"I'll take care of you real good." He promised, only after a few more hard slams into her. "So fucking beautiful. All mine.”

“Shit you feel good.” She whimpered, trying not to make too much noise. “Fuck that’s it.”

Jungkook smirked at her. "I know it does, mama." He whispered, his lips barely leaving her ear as he continued to thrust into her. "That's right. Take it baby.”

“So good— Missed this dick so much” She confessed.

Jungkook's eyes roll back as a moan of pure pleasure leaves his mouth. "Fuck, mama." He breathed out through clenched teeth.

"I missed this pussy, more than anything." He said, before picking up the pace, making their skin slapping louder and louder.

“My woman” He mumbled into her ear. “My wife. The mother of my kids. Rely on me more. Please.”

He continued. “Gonna fucking take years off work all for us. Gonna make more babies with you. Should I fuck another one into you tonight? Hm?”

She was beyond heated, unable to say anything but simply nod.

Jungkook chuckles as she admits what he already knows. "That’s it pretty girl" He groaned, slamming into her even harder at the revelation. "I haven't felt you like this in so long, I was fucking dying without you, Y/!.”

“You should’ve stayed home with me more— fuck.” She moaned quietly, “Only using my fingers was killing me”

Jungkook's thrust became wilder at her words, it's been so long since he heard her moan his name like this. "Fuck, mama. I will, I swear. I'll stay home with you every fucking night, no more having to do everything yourself.”

Jungkook leaned down, trailing kisses along her neck, then whispering against her lips.

She returned the energy. She made out with him roughly, taking her frustration out on him and letting it all go.

Jungkook deepened the kiss, pulling her closer and letting her release her frustrations.

His hand reached down, gripping her ass and pulling her even closer as he thrusts harder into her, grunting into her mouth. "Love it when you fuck me back, just like this."

“Can’t help it.” She fluttered his mouth with open mouthed kisses, whining.

Jungkook growls at the sound of her whine, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he gets closer to his release. "Fuck, I love it when you're like this. So fucking needy and eager for me."

“Been needing this dick for months now” She groaned into his mouth.

Jungkook smirks against her lips, his hand reaching up and gripping her throat gently. "I know, mama. I made you wait and I’ll never do that shit again. You deserve this shit every morning and every night."

“Better fucking mean that shit too.”

Jungkook chuckles, leaning down and sucking on her neck, biting down and leaving a bruise. "All to myself. I’m so lucky.”

Jungkook thrusts into her harder, losing his rhythm as he approaches his release. "Fuck, yeah, that's it. Come for me, mama. Show me how much you love my dick."

“Shit” She curses, “Fuck mm so close Jungkook.” She gripped on his hair roughly before finally reaching her high and cumming.

Jungkook groans and thrusts a few more times before he finally reaches his climax, filling her up with his hot seed, gripping her hips tightly.

"Fuck, Y/n. You got me going to make me fucking crazy with that tight pussy for years now.” He panted, trying to catch his breath.

“You look pretty with that afterglow.” Jungkook chuckles and kisses her forehead before standing up and grabbing a warm washcloth to clean her up.

“Such a gentleman.” She blushed.

"You're always so fucking cute, baby. I love it." He says, smiling warmly at her before helping her sit up and cleaning her down there.

“Thank you baby.” She caught her breath.

“Although you made it up to me right now, I really want you to spend more time with me and the babies.” She exhaled. “They’re only this age once.”

Jungkook nods, setting the washcloth aside before crawling back into bed and pulling her into his arms.

"You're right, mama. I'll make sure to spend more time with you and the babies." He says, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be around 24/7 now baby. You never have to worry about me again.”

“Okay baby.” She pecked his lips, “I love you.”

Jungkook smiles and pecks her back before wrapping his arms around her. "I love you too, mama."

[pickingupmymercedes]

What these arms can do - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities.

Wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Lewis and his biceps. That's it, really. Heavily inspired by this Video , Zegna's work this GP with his Sunday outfit and Arms. Hope you guys have fun reading this as much as I had fun writing it. ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

Y/n stepped quietly into Lewis's home gym in the morning, the familiar hum of his playlist and the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

Her eyes immediately found him, standing in front of the mirror with a determined look on his face as he curled a set of weights. She couldn't help but get lost on the way his biceps flexed, the veins popping out against his skin, the dark ink on his skin glowing under the lights.

She leaned against the doorway, her gaze lingering on him.

It never ceased to stir something inside her, admiration of course, but also a desire that she would often find hard to ignore.

There was something mesmerizing about watching him, his movements, how he got so into the routine he zooned out of world, the sheer power he held in his muscles, but specially his arms.

They took the brunt of his work but they were also her sanctuary, her personal safe haven in so many moments.

Like when she had fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted after a long flight, and she had woken up to the warmth of Lewis's body next to hers, his arms wrapped protectively around her. His biceps had turned into her pillow. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft rhythm of his breathing. She had nestled deeper into his embrace, feeling completely at peace.

Or when they were at the park, and Lewis finally put Roscoe down after carrying him everywhere. She had teased him, laughing at how the bulldog seemed to enjoy being cradled. "You carry him like a baby" she had joked, her laughter light and infectious. In response, Lewis had scooped her up into his arms, making her squeal in surprise mid Hyde Park. Holding her securely, he had looked into her eyes and said "I only hold those I love."

And finally, when they were making their way through a crowd, and she felt a bit overwhelmed by the noise and the people pressing in around them. Lewis had been by her side, his arm firmly around her lower back, guiding her through the throng. She could feel the strength of his biceps against her back, his ever-reassuring presence. As the mob grew larger, he had gently moved her to walk behind him and the bodyguards, his arms still around her, one of her hands clasped in his, the other resting on his biceps.

"Enjoying the view?" Lewis's teasing voice pulled her out of her own mind. Y/n blinked, her eyes snapping back to the present.

She realized she had been staring at him, lost in her memories. He was standing right in front of her, a playful smirk on his lips, his eyes focused intently on hers.

Caught off guard, she felt a soft smile rise to her cheeks. "Just... thinking" she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But the way he was looking at her, his gaze dropping to her lips, made her heart race.

She smirked back at him, closing the distance between them. Without another word, she leaned in and kissed him, feeling the familiar safety and love in his embrace once more.

When they finally broke the kiss, Lewis's eyes were filled with curiosity. "What were you thinking about?" he asked.

She bit her lip, a playful glint in her eyes. "About how your arms make me feel safe," she said with a flirty tone.

Lewis chuckled wrapping her in his embrace once again, raising an eyebrow. "So, I'm your personal bodyguard now?"

"Among other things," she teased, tracing her fingers along the muscles of his arm, glistening with a light layer of sweat.

He grunted in response, a deep, satisfied sound, and then effortlessly picked her up, setting her on one of the gym benches. He leaned in close, his breath warm against her skin. "What exactly triggered those memories?" he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck and collarbones.

"Your biceps," she whispered sassily, her voice trembling slightly. "Your forearms, your veins..." Her words trailed off as he started to undress her upper body, his kisses growing more insistent.

Y/n's fingers gripped at his arms, feeling the tension and power beneath his skin. Each time she tried to reach for him, his biceps held her back. "Let's focus on you for now, love. And what these arms can do to you." he whispered, his voice thick.

Piece by piece, he undressed her, his touch gentle but commanding.

When he had stripped her to just her bra and panties, his fingers traced the lace fabric, teasing her. She held onto his arms, the sensation of his muscles under her fingers grounding her.

Lewis's pupils grew dilated as he continued to explore her body. "I love how you look at me," he murmured against her skin, his lips trailing down her collarbone. Y/n's breath hitched, her body responding to his every word.

Y/n's breath quickened as Lewis's touch became more insistent, tracing the delicate lace of her panties, teasing her with feather-light touches before pulling it off her legs.

His lips followed, pressing soft kisses along her collarbone, his breath warm and tantalizing against her skin. The contrast between his gentle caresses and his gaze made her pulse race.

He moved lower, his kisses trailing down her stomach. Y/n's fingers kept clenched around his biceps, the strength in his arms keeping her grounded.

Lewis's mouth hovered over her clit, blowing gently, the cool air making her hips buck in response. He smiled against her skin at the response of her body, his tongue darting out to give her a light, teasing lick.

Y/n moaned, her grip tightening. He took his time, alternating between soft, languid licks and quick, playful flicks of his tongue, driving her to the edge only to slow down.

When he finally began to lap at her clit with more intensity, his other hand slid down to tease her entrance. The combination of his mouth and fingers had her writhing, her back arching off the bench as she neared her release.

And just as she was about to orgasm, he stopped, pulling back with a wicked grin.

"Not yet," he murmured, his voice a deep, seductive rumble.

Desperate for release, Y/n tried to reach for him, her hand slipping under the waistband of his gym shorts. But Lewis was quick, his hands moved to her neck, applying just enough pressure to stop her.

The slight constriction had her body respond to his dominance and surrender to his movements.

With one hand maintaining the gentle pressure on her neck, Lewis inserted a finger into her, the sensation making her gasp.

He moved slowly at first, letting her adjust, then added a second finger when he felt her walls relaxing, then a third, each one stretching her further.

His movements picked up speed, his fingers curling inside her, looking for the perfect spot until she spasmed and her breath hitched. His smile growing wickedly as he kept the pressure and angle, over and over.

Y/n's eyes locked with Lewis's, the intensity of his gaze holding her captive. "Do you like that, love?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"Yeah" she breathed, her voice trembling with desire. "So much."

Lewis's grin widened further, his fingers moving faster. "Good. I want you to feel everything."

Her body responded to his every touch, her hips moving in rhythm with his fingers. The pleasure kept on building, each stroke of his fingers dragging gasps out of her.

She could feel herself getting closer, the pressure building inside her almost unbearable.

"Look at me" Lewis commanded softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I want to see you when you come."

Y/n's eyes refocused on his gaze. The intensity in his eyes, the love and desire, made her heart race even faster.

"Lewis," she gasped, her body trembling.

"That's it, love," he murmured, his hand now positioned higher so his palm brushed over her clit while his fingers continued their relentless pace. "Let go for me."

Her climax hit her hard, her body arching off the bench as she cried out his name and her nails dug into his forearm still on her neck.

Her walls clenched around his fingers. But Lewis didn't stop, his fingers continuing now with up and down movements, drawing out every last bit of her high.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

"I need you." she managed to say between breaths.

His eyes darkened with desire at her words. "Patience, love," he said, his fingers still moving inside her. "We’re not done here just yet"

Just as she felt another wave of pleasure building, Lewis's phone rang, breaking the moment. He groaned in frustration but didn't stop his movements immediately, trying to ignore the insistent ringing.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, reluctantly pulling his fingers out of her and reaching for his phone. "Hold on a second, love."

Y/n watched him, her breathing still humming with the remnants of her orgasm. She could see the frustration on his face as he answered the call. "Yeah?" he snapped, clearly annoyed.

There was a brief pause as he listened to the person on the other end. "Now? Really?" He glanced at Y/n, a mix of regret and frustration in his eyes. "Fine, send me the link"

He hung up, exhaling sharply. "They need me in a meeting" he said, his voice tinged with frustration as he bent down to kiss her "But I'll be back in 20, I promise."

Y/n pouted playfully, reaching for the fingers that had been inside her just moments before. She took his middle digit into her mouth, sucking on it slowly, her eyes never leaving his. "You better be." she said, her voice sultry.

Lewis's eyes darkened back again, his dick very evident through his shorts and pressing against her thigh as he helped her up from the bench. He kissed her deeply, his hand possessively cradling the back of her head. The kiss lingered, both of them reluctant to break the contact.

"I don't want to go," he murmured against her lips, his voice rough with desire.

"But you have to" she replied softly, her hand resting on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. "Just don't take too long."

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. "Wait for me" he vowed.

Y/n nodded, her fingers tracing the outline of his muscles one last time. "I always do".

Lewis kissed her again, this time quicker, before finally stepping back. "I love you," he said, his eyes locked on hers.

"I love you" she replied, watching him as he reluctantly left the room.

The door closed behind him, and Y/n sighed, her body still thrumming with the desire he had ignited. She knew he would be back soon, and so would the safety she felt even when completely surrendered to his embrace.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

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If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[reiderwriter]

Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?

“I really want to see that.” 

You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question. 

He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again. 

“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.” 

“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water. 

If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view. 

Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie. 

“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.” 

His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed. 

“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you. 

“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.” 

You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now. 

“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt. 

“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket. 

“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure. 

You needed to make your need for him explicit. 

“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.” 

His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny. 

“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.” 

“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property. 

“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!” 

You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still. 

[whitehotforeva]

GREEDY – Anakin Skywalker 

best!friend anakin x reader

your panties have been going missing, little did you know that your perverted best friend has been stealing them ♡

word count: 2,129

warnings: smut. oral (fem receiving) male masturbation. anakin is a needy perv for ur pussy 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

a/n: its literally four am n i've been up writing this filth. not proofread im still kinda new to this stuff/writing but i hope whoever reads this enjoys <3

You weren’t sure exactly when it started. Sure, you were never one to be exactly tidy, so it was pretty common for you to lose random tops around your room, or maybe a pair of underwear, but after the sixth pair went missing, you suspected something was up. 

You couldn't exactly figure it out. Where the hell did they go? How did they disappear like that? You’d search all around the house, wondering if they’d been misplaced but no. 

So when the seventh pair went missing after your best friend Anakin visited, you pressed your lips together as you pieced together the puzzle. Things always seemed to go missing after he’d leave. 

Your face warmed at the idea. Surely not? Was it just your brain making things up? Because then that would mean that well...he liked you. I mean that's what it meant right? If a guy stole your underwear? A part of you wanted to giggle and squeal into your pillow. Despite the many years of friendship between you and Anakin, you couldn't deny that you had developed a crush on him. Who could blame you. 

But the other half felt anxiety. What if there was a completely other reason they went missing? Something which had nothing to do with him at all? How could you even question it to him? Bring it up? 

Hey Ani. You keeping my best underwear? Can I have it back please? At least the one with the little pink bow? And that lacy black pair? Oh and my white panties too. Oh and the four others please? 

Fuck no. There were times where your body would radiate a nervous energy around him because you felt intimidated at how perfect he was. 

Little do you know, it's what he loved about you. The way you’d quickly glance away after maintaining eye contact with him for a second too long, a blush growing on your cheeks. Or the way you’d tell him to shut up as a flirty remark left his lips, playfully hitting him despite dying on the inside over it because you felt you couldn't read into it. He had always been so charming. So composed and in control of his feelings. 

So imagine the surprise and utter shock that filled your body when you decided to hang out at his house and found him desperately rutting his leaky cock into your black lacy panties. 

It wasn't unusual for you guys to turn up unannounced at each other's house, so as you made your way through his house, treading upstairs carefully to sneak up and spook him, the last thing you expected was hearing a deep moan coming from his room. 

Naturally, you had to see what that was about. Duh. But as you edged closer, you could hear a string of curse words leave his mouth. His door was slightly open, and you inhaled a sharp breath as you saw his long fingers clutching the pair that went missing around his cock.  

Your eyes widened at the size. You didnt know what you expected, but you couldn’t help but gulp at his length. And his achy leaky tip that was thrusting against your pair of panties.  

A soft gasp left your lips at the sight mixed with the familiar feeling of warmth that begin to pool in your lower half. Your eyes were so mesmerized on the way he jerked off his cock with your panties, you didnt even feel the cold blue stare that was fixed on you. 

That was until his deep voice interrupted your staring. 

“You gonna come help me angel? Or gonna stand there and stare?” He half groaned, an amused tone coating his voice as your eyes widened in horror at being caught, snapping up to his stormy orbs. 

Your lips parted to speak as you took a step back, instantly glancing away as you raised your hands up. “I-I- Sorry- I didnt mean to uh. Sorry!” You stammered out, trying to look anywhere but there. 

You barely even registered what he said. 

“Don’t be rude. Come on in.” You weren't looking at his face, but you could imagine the arrogant smirk he’d usually wear painted on his lips, matching with his cocky tone. You hesitantly glanced at his face again and noticed the way his face glistened with sweat. He was shirtless and you couldn't help but let your eyes linger back down to his cock. Your mouth was open in shock again especially as you watched his hand envelop your panties around his cock and slide it up again, your eyes snapping back up to his as he let out a low chuckle at your expression, shamelessly stroking his cock. 

“Th-those are mine”. You tried to speak firmly, trying to ignore the way his hand picked up the pace. You don't know what gave you the nerve to say that. 

“Yeah? You gonna come and get them baby?”. His voice was airy as he almost whimpered the sentence out, biting down on his plump lip at the sight of you bewildered, watching you jerk his cock. 

You blushed furiously, blinking a few times to snap yourself out of whatever was going on.  

“Ani! W-what are you even doing right now?” You exclaimed, yet he didn't miss the way your legs squirmed around as you tried to get rid of that feeling. 

You knew how to. There was only one way. 

Suddenly, he sat up, his thick brows tensing in frustration as he huffed out and stood up slowly. You wanted to back away, and as he moved closer, you wanted to be swallowed by the ground. 

You felt almost dizzy. There he was, practically naked, his hand clenching your panties tightly, his cock rock hard against his stomach as he stood in front of you. He leaned down to your ear, his lips grazing it as you shuddered. 

“Doing what you should've been doing.” He spoke lowly, his large hands finding your waist before tugging down at your jeans. 

Before you could even protest, he had them off and you were stepping out of them. You didn't know why you didn't stop or protest, but the heat in between your thighs decided to be your brains now. 

“Ani.” You breathed out, your face red and chest shaky from the anticipation, and as you watched him slowly sink to his knees, you couldn't help but let a whimper leave your lips at the way his nose nuzzled against the damp spot your once white panties held.  

He let out a groan at your scent, taking it in as he felt his cock leak even more.  

His jerk off sessions would usually start with your used panties against his nose as he sniffed them, even tasted them. 

It was the closest he could get to having a piece of you. But now you were here, and he could see your legs trembling gently from need and the way your clit was aching for attention. It was obvious by your leaky pussy that was ruining your panties. 

A loud moan left your lips at the way his tongue licked over the cloth covering your most intimate parts. You couldn’t help but rest your fingers in his hair, and it was a good idea you did, because he began licking long strips down your clothed pussy that had you beginning to grip onto his curly locks. 

“Please.” You couldn’t help but whimper out, needing to feel his tongue against your bare skin. He nuzzled his face against you, basking in your scent before chuckling against your pussy. 

You felt yourself get even wetter. 

“Please? That’s what I should be saying to you.” He groaned out, slowly pulling down your panties and relishing the sight of your glistening cunt. He couldn’t help but pump his cock again with his other free hand. 

“Been wanting you so bad baby. Wanting to smell you. Taste you- fuck.”  

Just as he pumped himself again, he dove his head in-between your legs and began to lap at your juices hungrily. Your eyes widened at the sudden stimulation as a loud high-pitched moan left your lips. 

Thank God Shmi wasn't home. 

Little whines escaped your lips as he devoured you, his fingers digging into your hips to stabilize you further. You were already trembling, and as he caught your clit and sucked at it tightly, you pulled at his hair roughly, feeling yourself go a little dizzy. 

“Fuck- Ani!” You half sobbed out as pleasure shot through your body, and you found yourself grinding against his wet face for more. You could feel him grin against your pussy and watched how he had dropped your old pair of panties and yanked at the white pair he had just took off you, beginning to jerk his cock furiously with them. 

His own moans vibrated against your pussy, adding to your pleasure as you felt a white hot heat flow through your veins. 

He pulled away before nuzzling his nose against your clit, letting out a whimper.  

“Fucking taste so good baby. Been so desperate stealing your panties. Needed your pussy. Just a taste.” He whined out to you desperately, his eyes looking up at you sending another electric jolt through your clit. 

There your best friend was, desperately lapping at your pussy, admitting how perverted he had been. 

“Please. Please!” He whined out, his tongue resuming licking at your wet folds. Sharp gasps left your lips as he begged for a taste of you. Begged for your cum. You felt hear the messy sounds his tongue against your soaked pussy was creating, but also the wet sound your soaked panties and his cock was making as you noticed the way his hips were desperately grinding upwards.  

He was chasing after his own release as he begged to give you yours, whimpering incoherent things against your pussy as you felt your vision go blurry and a loud desperate squeal leaving your lips as the coil in your stomach snapped, and your orgasm crashed. Loud moans and gasps filled the air as your legs trembled against him, desperate to move away from the overstimulated feeling of him flattening his tongue against your clit. 

The way you gripped onto his curls tighter and let your juices explode against his tongue had him letting out the filthiest sound you had ever heard as his cum spilled out of his hard cock and onto the white panties he was jerking off with. 

As he shook from his own orgasm, he shook his face into your sensitive sopping folds, relishing in your extra squeals as you exclaimed out that it was too much for you. He continued his relentless attack, desperate for every drop of you and you couldn't help but let the tears that had pooled in your eyes out. 

“Ani! Anakin! Can't- can't take it please” you begged out brokenly, your hips attempting to jerk away as you felt his fingers dig into your thighs, the light pain overloading your senses as a warm pleasure washed over you.  

He slowly moved his face away, a dazed look in his eyes and a wide grin staring up at you with his glistening lips. You couldn't do anything but whimper as you felt your knees give out, but he gently lowered you to the floor on your knees. You trembled as you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his sweaty abs as you felt his hand on your back, rubbing it softly to calm you down. 

Your eyes caught the sight of his cock and you couldn’t help but whine out at the sight of your panties stained with his cum. Your hand reached out to pull your panties away from his cock, hearing him hiss and gently tremble at the sensation. You looked up at him, then back down at the stained panties. 

“Come on. Don’t look at me like that. I’ll buy you more.” He spoke out, laughing as you giggled with him, playfully rolling your eyes at him. 

"You need to buy me eight more.” 

He playfully scoffed, standing up as he grabbed your hips, pulling you up with him and guiding you onto his bed, pushing you down. 

“Yeah?” He questioned, cockily raising a brow as he began to take your top off. You furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“Anakin what are yo-mmfhh!” 

Your eyes widened at the fact that Anakin had just shoved your cum stained panties into your mouth. The taste of his cum and your own juices sinking into your tongue as he wore yet again another amused smirk on his face. 

He was disgusting, and you felt yourself grow wetter. 

“Give me a minute, and I’ll show you something that feels even better.” 

[thekeystothebasement]

REQUEST!! Head empty just thinking about throwing the 141 guys on their back to ride the living soul out of them till they're babbling non sense+ including König and graves these boys are to die for🤤🤎🤎🤎

A/N: I'm slowly making my way through the requests, This one took me a bit longer than I expected. It was quite challenging writing similar prompts for different characters without sounding repetitive.I went hard on Captain Price and Ghost's parts but I sort of felt like the quality went down after that :(

Let me know what ya'll think!

Check out my post: WIPS and Requests if you're interested in what I have planned or curious about the rules I set for requests.

Captain Price:

You've been needy all day and Price hasn't been giving you the attention you've been craving.

He was constantly pacing around the base, in meetings, and never having an opportunity to be with you until you found one.

After wandering around the base like a lost puppy looking for its owner, you found Price at his office, sitting in his big leather chair.

You could hear him sigh out of frustration, rubbing his temple, you could see the exhaustion on his face.

Normally you would leave him alone or even convince him to rest but you were so fucking needy.

The ache between your legs only seems to grow by the second.

Seeing him lean back into his leather chair, legs spread and letting out a sigh of frustration you finally decided to pounce.

"Daddy" you whimpered as you bounced on his dick. You were riding him eagerly, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. Normally Price would be so rough with you, pounding you against his desk and calling you a whore, his little slut. But Price couldn't even form a coherent sentence. Any words coming from his mouth were slurred as he looked at you with hooded eyelids.

"I'm a good girl, right?" you asked as you kept your relentless pace. "I'm taking care of daddy." you giggled as you felt him throb inside of you. You rocked your hips against him as you leaned closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"C'mon daddy, let it out." you whimpered. You gently nipped at his ear earning a throaty moan from him. "Let your baby take care of you. Be a good boy for me."

You let out a gasp at his weak attempt to thrust up into you, his nails leaving marks on your hips.

"Princess..." he whimpered

"Yes, sir?" you were smiling down at him, feeling him tense under you before shuddering as his cum shoots deep into you. His body goes limp on the leather chair as you continue to ride him, not satisfied with the amount of cum he gave you.

"Giving up already?" you pouted. You could feel his semen run down your burning thighs, leaving you even hornier.

"C'mon old man, your princess wants more."

Ghost:

Ghost never liked to relinquish control.

Whenever you tried to take the reigns you were always put in your place

On your back with your legs over his shoulder as he pounded into you, desperately trying to breed you.

Despite how good he made you feel, you always had the fantasy to be on top.

You wanted Ghost to be the one left quivering and begging.

You wanted to be the one in control. You wanted to be the one to be able to hold's Ghost pleasure over his head.

You wanted Ghost to beg you to let him cum, which is exactly what your ears are hearing.

"Fucking hell, don't do this to me, baby..." Simon pleaded. The rope tied around his wrist wouldn't budge no matter how hard Simon's hands tried to reach out to your body. He couldn't remember how many times you kept bringing him to the edge of pleasure, riding his cock and squeezing your warm wet cunt around him, to only pull away when you feel the familiar throb of his cock ready to burst his semen inside you.

"C'mon lieutenant..." you whispered into his ear as your fingernail traveled from his neck down to his chest. "I know you can beg better than that. How much do you want to cum inside this wet pussy." You teased.

You can see how red his tip was, practically ready to blow his load inside you with the slightest touch. His breathing was labored, his chest rapidly rising and falling. The rope tied around his ankles kept him from bucking his hips into you, as you hovered over him. Your pussy is just a few mere centimeters from his cock.

"c'mon princess..." he choked out, completely frustrated in the predicament he woke up to. "Please ride me..."

You couldn't help the wide grin that appeared on your face as you looked down at Simon. As soon as those words left his mouth you bounced down onto his cock earning a whimper from the man below you.

"As you wish lieutenant."

Soap:

You and Soap had made a bet after a heated argument in front of the 141 task force.

Somehow the topic landed on Sex

Soap had begun to brag that he could last hours to the point he'd outlast his partner which earned a snort from you.

All eyes landed on you at your reaction, Soap didn't take it lightly and thus started your mini argument

The argument ended when you and Soap agreed to have sex with each and see who would last the longest.

The group was astounded at the interaction and decided to stay at the bar longer than they planned as they watched you and Soap leave.

They did not want to be around you both as the bet took place.

"Johnny..." you panted as you looked down at the male before you. His eyes were squeezed shut as he roughly panted below you. "Admit it. You can't outlast me. My pussy is about to put you to sleep."

Soap could only whimper as you continued to bounce on his cock, vulgar wet sounds emitted by your actions. A ring of white can be seen in the base of his cock, the ring getting thicker and thicker as you continued to ride him. His hips would lazily try to meet yours, missing the rhythm you had set.

Your giggles echoed in his room as you felt his body stiffen, knowing his semen was about to be freed from their chamber. You could hear him babble nonsense as your cunt squeezed around his cock, squeezing the last bit of cum he had. Hissing as he nutted in you.

"you're a fucking minx..." he panted out. His hand tapped the inside of your cum covered thighs.

"Tapping out, Johnny?"

Gaz:

You and Gaz were the youngest members of the task force.

Because of this, you two got along well.

A little too well for everybody's comfort

It was no secret you two were fooling around with each other

Every member has their own experience catching you two in the act, mortifying all who were involved

But that never stopped you and Gaz from doing it again

The bathroom, kitchen, and even the sparring room were not safe from your lewd acts

Hell, you could imagine Price's shouting already

You were riding Gaz on Price's favorite couch, the worn-out fabric couch by the coffee table

"You got issues Gaz,"

Gaz was leaning back on the couch, 'coincidentally' the very spot Price sits on every day. He watched as you did all the work. Watching as your breasts jiggled with every bounce on his dick. He leaned further into the couch as you continued to belittle him.

"You like it when we get caught," you teased. "Pervert."

Gaz felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head, you were breathtaking, you looked so beautiful riding him. Your hands settled on his shoulders as you raised your hips and fell down on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass.

"Hurry up and cum Gaz," you gasped out. His fingers tightened around your hips as he edged closer and closer to the height of his pleasure. "Don't want the Captain to walk in and see me riding his favorite sergeant?"

"...fuck..."Gaz moaned. His eyes squeezed shut as he imagined your words. "...baby"

"Sick-fuck..." you teased. You quicked your pace, moving your hips in a circular manner. "You want the Captain to see me milk your cum from your balls?"

"shit..oh god..." Gaz cried out. You felt his body stiffen as he chanted 'yes baby' He could feel your walls squeezing around him, desperately trying to milk him.

As you feel his cum dribble down your thigh, your next set of words had him running through a list of emotions, his limp dick twitching inside of you despite his consciousness telling him how wrong it was to be getting hard in the situation he found himself in.

"Hi, Captain. Enjoying the show?"

Konig:

Konig's eyes followed you everywhere and you noticed for quite a bit of time.

You never really held a conversation with the tall male before.

He was too anxious to talk to you but whenever you approached him and try to converse with him, he could only reply with one-word responses.

Despite the lack of conversations, you enjoyed his presence.

You would be writing in your journal across from him and he would sketch on his sketchpad.

You've seen his sketches before, he was quite skilled and you rained compliments on him.

He would awkwardly laugh at your compliments, his mask hiding the big smile and blush on his cheeks.

Konig's body would soon stiffen under your next question, his hand harshly gripping at his sketchpad, and his pencil snapped in the other.

"Have you ever done nude art?"

You already knew the outcome when you suggested he draw you nude.

The devious smile on your face as you led him to your room and rid yourself of your clothes.

You admired Konig's self-control when he actually did try to sketch you nude but you had other plans.

"Mesmerize every square inch of my body." you panted. Konig was sprawled on the floor as you used his body for your complete and utter pleasure. His sniper hood was discarded in the room as his forearm covered his eyes, tears streaming down his face from the pleasure of your tight walls squeezing his overstimulated cock.

Whimpers and breathy moans escaped his throat and released into the room. Wet sounds resonated in the room as you bounced on his cock and scratched and clung to his chest.

"I'll remember..." Konig breathed out. "I'll remember...Scheiß...your curves..and...tight pussy"

You laughed at his weak attempt to reply to you, his sentence broken each time your ass landed on his balls earning whimpers and curses from the male. You could feel Konig's dick throb inside of you and his moans becoming higher and more frequent.

"Cum inside of me..."You begged. "and then you'll be able to draw me full of your semen."

Graves:

As soon as you got a glimpse of his eyes, you knew you were going to fuck him into submission

The way his eyes would shined when he stepped into the dinner and noticed a cute young waitress looking at him with a soft smile

He'd sit in a booth and pray you'll be his waitress for the night

He'd subtly flirt with you but you knew what you wanted and aggressively flirted right back at him

His eyes would follow your figure as you'd walk away, his eyes focusing on your ass

When you returned with his food you sat in the chair in front of him and kept him company as he ate his meal

Eventually, your boss yelled at you to get back to work, leaving Graves smirking at the small pout on your face.

You would lean down to his ear, his eyes gazing at your cleavage, your hand squeezing his shoulder as you whispered into his ear, "I get off at 10. If you'll wait for me, I'll make it worth your while."

You stood back up, dusting your skirt and sending him a wink before getting back to work

Despite the car having tinted windows, the rocking of the car and the smudged handprints on the windows gave away what was happening inside.

Phillip was sprawled on the car seat that was set all the way down, you were sat on his clothed dick, rocking your wet folds against the wet fabric of his briefs. His briefs stained with his cum and your arousal.

“C’mon baby….fuck,” Graves whined. “Let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours.”

You gave him false hope as you lifted your hips up and pulled down his briefs. You continued to rock your hips, your wet folds spreading your arousal on his red tip. You felt him shudder under your teasing, his eyes squeezed shut as his hands tried to grip the leather seats.

“Please stop teasing me, baby.” He begged.

You grinned at him, lining yourself up with his dick before you slowly eased him inside of you. Your eyes closed shut momentarily before the were snapped open, feeling Grave shoot his cum inside of you.

Your laughter filled the car as you began to bounce on his dick, whimpers and moans escaping from Graves.

“Was my pussy that good,” you questioned. “Fucking nutted just by being inside of me….Pathetic”

Graves couldn’t help but enjoy the way you degraded him, feeling your warm walls hug his cock, and the way yours eyes looked down at him. Your eyes looking at him as if he was a toy for your pleasure. Disregarding how sensitive he was from all your teasing, not caring how many times you made him cum inside of his briefs, his cum and your arousal mixed with each other, wet sounds emitted each time you lowered your hips all the way till his balls were tightly pressed against your ass.

“Shit….gonna fuck myself on your cock till the sunrise…”you said as you felt him throb inside of you once again.

“ if you can even last that long…”

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I've always been captivated by them. Something about the shiny exterior, how they glimmer when you tumble them around in your hands. My younger self would obsess about them, a childlike fascination. Even back then I instinctively knew they had value. My mom would use pearls I found to pay for a safe passage at scavenger tolls. We tried to bypass those points as much as we could, but sometimes it was unavoidable."

"It's a looong story…. I was found roaming the wilderness by my mentor, who brought me to er, an entity, called an interator. Do you know of iterators? Apparently they are what was left of an ancient civilization that once inhabited these lands. I couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Iterators are massive, absolutely huge, like mountains. Do you see that big structure of a regular, smooth shape?"

[She points towards Five Pebble's can in the distance]

"That is an iterator's «superstrucute». A mountain, the entire thing… is a person. It still sounds crazy when I say it."

"Ah, right, my name… like I mentioned, I got lost and my mentor found me. He brought me to his iterator. If my memory serves me right, his name is «No Significant Harassment», or NSH for short. I recall thinking at that time, «Harassment? I hope he won't be cruel to me». I had no concept of iterator names, their meaning, why it's three or however many words long. It was incredibly confusing to my young mind, though looking back at it I consider myself very lucky. The iterator was, dare I say, «god-like» (his own words), but benevolent. I saw how well he treated Hunter – my mentor – and it made me trust him more, even though I was scared and wary in the beginning."

"Would you believe it if I told you… there are stories written inside the pearls? That those things I’ve been obsessing about all my life are used for storing information? I had many of them leftover from when I lived at a scavenger outpost. One cycle, NSH noticed my interest, and – I wish Hunter had told me about this sooner, but – the iterator shot at my head with something…? And suddenly I could understand everything he said. Not that he said much, because I started crying loudly and ran straight out of there, haha. But before I bolted, he gave me one of his pearls as consolation. I think he felt bad for the scared little me."

"After that, he would eagerly read all the pearls I brought to him. That is how I learned more about the culture of the peoples who were here before me: the Ancients, their customs, why the iterators were built, and much more. It was like the knowledge of the entire world was suddenly revealed to me – to a seemingly insignificant being, a tiny speck in an endless ocean of life. It both made me feel very important, and very small. And, yeah, it has intensified my obsession with pearls beyond mortal limits. What if I could write into a pearl? I could archive the history of my entire species! All the stories my mom told me when I was small? All the places I’ve been to? Or other scugs have been to…"

[Her eyes widen, sparkling with glee]

"Y-yeah… that would be nice… sadly I am what I am – a slugcat. I don’t know how to do this very advanced stuff at all. I have no means of doing this. I once asked NHS for help, but there’s only so much he could guess from my frantic signing. I don’t think he understood me, in the end. But he did appreciate my efforts, and I was given a title – the Pioneer, like a person who is the very first to explore something uncharted. Apparently no slugcat before me thought of reading from or writing into pearls? I find it a little hard to believe."

"This one! This is a very special kind of pearl – it contains an ancient poem from which my name originated. See, my name was a gift from NSH the iterator. It’s spelled: «Mirmyntasseth». The best way I would describe it, is… it’s a name for a feeling, or an experience. The way it was explained to me, is that the word «Mirmyntasseth» is an expression of seeing a marble roll on a flat surface, then hitting another marble. Ah, right, you may not know this – a marble is like, like a pearl, but translucent and even more ornate. I was told that marbles were used by the Ancients for entertainment. They had a game where you rolled one to hit another. I'll admit, I can see the appeal. Throwing rocks is fun, although I image this game was considered a more dignified pastime."

[She tumbles the dark pearl in her hands, admiring its luster]

"The poem inside this pearl, one of its verses spells: «Eight Marbles Cast in Stone». The poem itself is long… very long… I had the iterator read it to me once, and we had to stop in the middle because the rain was coming. Maybe I will ask NSH to read it again, when I’m back at his superstructure with Hunter."

[Her gaze trails off to somewhere far away for a moment, a subtle grimace on her face. She closes her eyes and shakes off the thoughts that cloud her mind]

"So, um… yes… that is why I am called Eight Marbles Cast in Stone, or Marbles for short. I like how it sounds, it has a nice ring to it. And it’s a gift from an iterator, a god-like being. I consider it a great honor."

"…that said, I wonder why he didn’t just name me «Pearl»? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Maybe it didn’t sound cool enough. They’ve used pearls just to store information. I guess it’d be silly to be named «Dirt» because you doodle in dirt, or «Batfly» because you love eating batflies? Hmm…"

[r-eatyourfriends-n]

Collide | l.hs 이희승 | pt. 1

best friend!heesung x best friend!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), pwp (plot's there if you look hard enough), unprotected sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation (sort of?), nipple play, heesung is cocky but only for a bit, no use of "y/n". It got sort of fluffy at the end?

synopsis: you've been having hookups for a while, but none of them have been memorable, much less good, so heesung decided you change that. Although his intentions might not be 100% pure.

wc: 5k.

a/n: this is by far not my first smut (it's literally all I write lol) but I've never posted for the enhypen fandom although I've been delusional about heesung and jake for a good while now. I have decided to break my silence. pls let me know if there are any mistakes and for sure let me know if you liked it! I actually quite enjoyed writing this as I began working on part two as soon as I finished. Also English is not my first language, I'm certain I revised this enough to avoid any grammar mistakes but thought I'd give y'all the heads up.

You arrived at Heesung's apartment late that night, just like you had warned him that you would. Given that your last date's place was near Heesung's, he had offered you to come over after your night out so that you didn't have to take a cab home. He said he'd be up playing anyway since it was a Friday night.

When you knocked, he had stood by his word. It took a few knocks and missed calls but eventually, the door opened, showing Heesung in a plain white tshirt and grey sweatpants. He welcomed you with a gentle smile, quiet as the noise rang through his headset. You nodded at him in acknowledgement and he took a step to the side to let you in.

As usual, you left your things on the couch. You signaled towards his bathroom and he nodded again, then left you alone to finish his game. You took a towel from his closet and one of his longer shirts and headed to the shower, head hanging low, letting the water run down your body when you stepped in, standing still under it, eyes closed.

Your date had been a mess.

The guy was nice; he held up to the bare minimum requirements of kindness and politeness, he payed for the bill even when you insisted for him to at least let you split it. Then he held your arm and guided you to his car like a true gentleman, where he took you to his house, layed you on his bed, and gave you the most boring, cunt-drying head and sex of your life. It felt criminal, really, that a man so handsome and well put together was such a boring and dull fuck. But there he had been, dirty blond hair parted to the side, stuck to his forehead as he sweat and heaved like a fucking pig white fucking into you, paying no mind to what you were feeling, only chasing his high.

Heesung, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about the look on your face when you stepped inside. Nor could he stop thinking about the marks that he hoped to god would be gone by morning, or your messy hair and out of place clothes, and the fact that you were willing to pull through with the plan of going to his apartment instead of staying with the guy. He picked you up, fucked you poorly (most likely), and couldn't even drive you somewhere else?

Ever since you became confident enough to put yourself out there, you've had quire the few hookups, which was unsurprising to Heesung. You were pretty, charming, and kind, and he saw those things every day. However, heesung wasn't stupid. He knew that at the end of the day, there was a good reason as to why men overall didn't have a good reputation during sex. And Heesung was someone who would love to show you a good time, but he didn't want to lose you over it.

He dreamed of it. Fantasized about it so many times— about all the ways in which he would fuck you, so good that no one else could even compare. To have you come back to him each time you even so much as think about trying to sleep with some other guy that isn't him. He'd give you the slow, teasing version of it first, taking his sweet time with each and every inch of skin until you were shaking just from the mere anticipation of feeling his cock push in, dragging out the pleasure in slow waves, praising you for enduring such intense feelings. Make you feel so good you'd cry.

If you wanted, Heesung could be rough, too. Bend you over every single piece of furniture of his apartment and yours. In his car as well, he would be lying if he said he never imagined putting you on your hands and knees on the backseat of his car whenever he picked you up from a party; have claw at the leather and leave your mark on it. Park somewhere dark and let you ride him on the driver's seat.

To be quite frank, it drove him crazy; to know that you were in his bathroom— naked in his house, and he couldn't just walk in and press you against the wall, ready to hold your weight when your knees begin to shake and buckle.

Heesung shook his thoughts away, going back to his game and trying to act normal. He unmuted himself to yell at Jake and Yeonjun, who were performing even worse than him. As they went quiet again, he heard the water stop and the bathroom door open. Your reflection appeared on his second monitor, your hair in somewhat of a low ponytail over your shoulder with a few strands on the front. Some parts of your body were clearly still damp, and his shirt stuck where there were still drops of water gathering on your skin. Heesung licked his lips, desperate to end the game and go to you, who layed comfortably on his bed, scrolling through your phone with a cold expression.

You sighed while you stared holes into Heesung's stiff back and shoulders. You showed up to his apartment knowing that he was going to be gaming with his friends, but a part of you still hoped that he would've dropped everything for like he had done sometimes, especially since today had been particularly frustrating. Still, you waited for him, just rather impatiently.

He didn't bother to say goodbye to his boys, he only turned off his computer and took his headphones off, rubbing at his red and sore ears. He turned on his chair and smiled.

“I'm done.”

“Did you win?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Heesung shook his head. “I wasn't focusing.” He shrugged. “How bad was it?"

“How'd you know it was bad?"

“You're here, aren't you?” He chuckled.

Your shoulders dropped in defeat, quietly admitting your best friend was right. Heesung's eyes softened, displaying pity as your hands came up to rub your face, leaving a red trail of pure frustration.

“He was so handsome and sweet,” You groaned into your palms. “But he barely even kissed me, or touched me.”

He gritted his teeth, eyes landing on the small, purplish spots on your neck. “You're all marked up though,” he said, trying not to let his jealousy seep into his words.

“I practically had to beg him to do anything,” you admitted, embarassed that those words even came out of your mouth.

Begged?, Heesung thought, you had to beg a random guy to do what he had been dying to do to you? He scratched at the back of his neck.

“I don't know where you keep finding these scumbags.” He stood up, walking towards the bed to sit next to you.

“Maybe they're all scumbags and I should give up, because I didn't even get to finish.”

Heesung pressed his lips together, making a thin line. He tried to think about what to say next, but words were out of his mouth before he could consider all outcomes.

“Do you still want to?”

“Want to what?” you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.

“Come,” he responded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you still want to come?”

Heat crept up your cheeks, your body beggining to deter from his gaze. Neither of you had ever been shy about discussing sex, or each other's sex lives—though he was much more reserved about it than you were—, but something in the atmosphere made you nervous. Something in his tone as the words came out of his mouth, something about heesung saying those words to you.

You huffed. “Well, who doesn't, right?”

His pupils were blown out in an instant. “Then let me help you.”

“Help me what?” you rolled your eyes at him, exasperated. Although he wasn't being as cryptic as you perceived him, you were just in a bad mood.

Heesung just shrugged. “Come,” he repeated, leaning closer to you. “Let me make you come.”

The whole world stopped for you, or at least that's what it felt like. Your face contorted, a thousand thoughts rushing through your mind.

Yes, it was your best friend, who you barely recognized at the moment. But you would be lying if you said his words didn't have an effect on you, his offer making you shiver. Still, you had some level of skepticism because again, he was your best friend.

“Stop playing, I'm not in the mood.” Was all you managed to push out, not feeling like being teased.

Unable to back down now —or not wanting to—, heesung took a deep breath.

“Do I look like I'm playing?”

You turn to face him, and looked for a hint, or even such as a glimpse of him being the teasing asshole that he had always been, however, he never faltered. If anything, he seemed impatient for an answer.

“I think you deserve to know what a good night feels like,” He continued.

“You think you're good?” You scoffed mockingly, already feeling your body heating up at his promises. A good night? Yes, you were in desperate need of one of those. It was nothing Heesung wasn't already aware of.

“I know I am,” he smirked.

His confidence set off something inside of you. If it turned out that he was all talk, then, you'll be damned, because god, did he know how to talk. Not only using his words, but also his whole body, as he leaned foward to press his face closer to yours. Had he always been like this or were you just noticing?

For the time you had known Heesung, you never knew him for one to sleep and mess around. He was a flirt, sure, he loved to lean in during parties to make the women around him flustered. More often than not, he would brush past them with a hand on their waist and watched as they blushed, but despite his good looks and undeniable charisma, you've never heard about him constantly hooking up, nor doing it often like you did.

Regardless, wether it was seldom or not, Heesung fucked. It was a fact, even if it seemed like he was too busy gaming and working, he had managed to fit some fun time in his packed schedule of work hours and consoles. You couldn't deny you've heard about him, given that he had unknowingly slept with two of your coworkers. It wasn't something you told him, and until this very day, he was still unaware of the fact.

But you were very aware of what had been said about him, because you heard them discuss in great detail about how good the sex had been. They had talked about everything, from the size of his cock to how he knew how to eat out a woman—and how good he looked doing it—, how many times they came and what not. It had been weird to hear about how good your best friend was in bed, but you still grew curious, dying to know if the rumours were true, and if he was the well built roman sex god they made him out to be.

He was your best friend, yes (how many times had you said it already?). Still, you weren't blind nor stupid, you could see how gorgeous he was, how hot he looked, having been flustered by him one too many times. Certain feelings harvested in you that you had pushed to the side, thinking that you would bully them away by telling yourself than a friend who just so happened to be stupidly handsome. And you had managed quite well, that until today, with Heesung infront of you, willing to give you what you wanted.

Would the sex outweigh any possible bad outcomes that may come from hooking up with the person you trust the most? Only time would tell.

“Okay,” you whispered, feeling shy under his impatient gaze.

He reached out his hand, softly cupping your chin. His thumb caressed your jawline.

“I'll be gentle.”

Your brows furrowed. “I'm not a virgin, Heesung.”

“Do you need to be a virgin for that?” He laughed, dumbfounded by your words. “Just lay back and let me make you feel good.”

Promises, promises, promises. “Are you all talk or do I have to beg you too?”

Heesung smirked. “Don't give me ideas.”

Any hesitation any of you might have still had vanished the minute your lips pressed together. Heesung moved slowly, almost forcing you to follow his lead and you obliged, sighing into the kiss. You held his nape to pull him closer, it was the only thing he let you do. He allowed you to guide him on top of you, and you spread your legs so that he could settle himself between them to kiss you deeper.

His tongue pushed against yours without a warning and you whimpered. Just the kissing had your heart threatening to shoot a hole into your chest from the inside out. Heesung had inviting lips for sure, but god, did he know how to use them.

You were desperate to have him touch you but still whined and protested when his mouth began to make its way down, stopping by your neck first, biting just below your jawline. Your hands trembled, trying to find something to hold on to until you figured the best thing to sink your nails into were his shoulders.

Heesung loved it, to know his skin would welcome anything your body gave. So mesmerized by the way you reacted to his touches, so receptive and sensitive to him. He couldn't believe it yet, that he had you on his bed, kissing you breathless.

Your back arched into him when he sucked on the skin, making sure to leave more visibly, longer lasting marks over the ones you already had. He watched as your skin became stained with a darker purple, his cock throbbing at the sight; at the thought of seeing you on his clothes, your body littered in his marks.

He raised your shirt over your breasts. You reached for the hem of the shirt to pull it over your head to give him more space to do what he wanted more comfortably. He stopped you immediately, though.

“I wanna fuck you in my shirt,” he confessed, trying not to show his desperation.

His words almost were enough to make you moan, and you realised you weren't turned off by the idea of being owned in some way, especially if it was Heesung who did. Or perhaps you were just incredibly horny, and he had started to play with one of your nipples between his fingers, the other one going into his mouth.

With your hand gripping his head tightly, you pushed him towards your chest. He swirled his tongue around the bud in acknowledgement of your actions, which made you buck your hips up in an attempt to get some sort of friction. You could feel your panties sticking to your skin, was it normal to be this wet just from kissing?

It was probably how it should have been with your date, or with any of the other guys you had slept with. But only you had managed to get yourself to that state, alone in your room with your fingers, and now Heesung with his skilled mouth licking and swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, his hips pressed against your cunt to keep you from squirming or pressing your legs together. You took the opportunity to grind yourself against him, feeling the outline of his already hard cock on your shorts. The whine he let out was long and needy.

“Heesung,” you moaned, nudging at his shoulder to push him away. “More.”

Heesung's knees buckled at your pleads.

“Beg a little more, baby.” He instructed. He pressed a soft kiss between your breasts, where a drop of sweat had begun to roll down. “Say my name again.”

Heesung found himself hypnotized by the way you moaned out his name. The way you tried to shove him down to get him to go between your legs just made him want to tease you more.

“heesung please, please, fuck—,” you babbled. “God, stop teasing me.”

“No god here, just me,” Heesung smirked at you.

Thankfully, what you said had been enough. He made his way down slowly, ghosting his hands over your waist as he directed his kisses from your abdomen until his lips met the hem of your shorts. He pushed them to the side and stared at your white panties now turned transparent from the wetness. And he almost couldn't believe it was for him. A bunch of thoughts passed through his mind that he didn't dare to voice; how he had wanted this for so long, how he was hoping you would come to your senses and realize how much better he was than all the other guys you had gone out with. How he hoped this would absolutely ruin you, and make you feel like you will never find something out there that could compete. The thought of this possibly being a one time thing, and that you could run off to some other douchebag was nauseating.

He offered himself up expecting that, by the end of the night, he'll own you.

It wasn't something that he wanted to keep thinking about. All he wanted was to hear more of your pretty sounds. You gasped when he yanked down your shorts, leaving on your underwear just to mess with you and make you desperate for him. He glided his thumb over your cunt, occasionally putting pressure on your clit but never quite staying there. Your legs and hips twitched, your pathetic attempt to guide his finger. Loud moans and whines kept pouring from your lips as you tried to get him where you wanted.

“Have any of those assholes ever gone down on you?” he asked, sort of absent.

Had they? You weren't really sure. Sometimes they would kiss between your legs, a few licks here and there before they pushed their cock in, but never like what your friends have told you it was like. Jealousy burbled in your stomach whenever you heard them talk about it— the unimaginable pleasure, the look on the man's face he ate them out like his life depended on it. You have had a glimpse, a very bad one, but you had almost felt what it was like. However, at the end of the day, it was mostly you on your knees with your mouth stuffed.

Ultimately, you decided to tell him exactly that. “Yeah, but not really. It's usually me who does.”

Heesung clicked his tongue, completely displeased by your answer. It pissed him off, sort of, at least enough to pull your panties down and finally beginning to live up to his promise. He flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit, to which your body immediately reacted, forcing a whimper out of you.

His hands forced your legs open as far as they would go, taking full control, leaving you defenseless under his relentless mouth and tongue. Same tongue he pushed inside you, thrusting it into your hole, feeling you squeeze him. The way your walls tightened around his tongue turned him impatient, dying to get that same feeling on his cock. But you were his priority right now, and he would have time to feel you soon enough.

The orgasm that you had been longing for since you accepted your date felt closer than ever, with heesung's nose hitting your clit, and his tongue moving inside you. He then reached up to suck on your clit that kept getting more and more swollen the more his lips would close around it, rolling his tongue over it. As he kept playing with it, he teased his finger on your entrance, gathering your slick on it and sliding it in with little to no effort, your body welcoming him instantly. He found himself stretching you further in no time, slowly pushing in a second finger and curling both of them.

“Feel good baby?” he mumbled. It was uncommon for him to ask those types of questions, since he would rather have girls show him. But from you, he wanted to hear it, he needed to hear it.

The question almost sounded stupid in your ears.

“So fucking good,” you breathed out. “So fucking close.”

All of the rumours were true, and Heesung absolutely looked hot pleasuring a woman, smiling to himself, looking drunk and fucked out just from it, his only goal to have you finish thanks to him. He was good, exactly like he said he was, making your eyes roll back, a thing you had only thought possible in porn, and just by using his mouth. And he still had yet to fuck you.

The pace of his fingers and tongue quickened, your moans got louder along with it. Edging you was something he considered, feeling you so close, having the power to just stop all at once and leave you hanging.

Your orgasm came crashing down on you before he could make a decision, and fuck if it wasn't one of the hottest things he had ever witnessed; how your back arched and your feet lift off of the bed as the highest peak of pleasure you had ever felt invaded your body in waves, body convulsing onto his hand in time with the loud, borderline screams of his name. It had gotten to the point you had to kick at his shoulders for him to pull away, sensations quickly turning painful.

If that's how you were gonna feel on his cock, he was certain that he was not going to last long.

“Shit, Heesung, that was—”

"I'm not done with you, sweetheart,” he interrupted. “I barely just started.” He chuckled, begging to pull down his sweatpants, revealing the wet patch of precum on his underwear. “Look what you did to me.”

Your eyes never stopped following his hands as he hooked his fingers om his boxers to finally free his cock from being smothered by the fabric, standing proudly against his abdomen, heavy. Something in your stomach fluttered with a twisted exciment of what was about to happen, especially when he wrapped his hand around it to stroke it slowly, almost teasing himself.

And you let him, watching him try to relieve himself; his mouth open, panting, so focused on aliviating his arousal that he almost forgot you were there. That until both of your eyes met, the atmosphere in the room getting heavier by the minute

Heesung stopped moving his hand. “Come spit on it, baby,” he instructed. “Get it ready.”

A breath got stuck in your throat at his words. That hadn't been the nastiest thing you heard, you had been said and called way worse. But the way he look and sounded while he made his request, knelt in front of you, hair out of place and lips dark pink and glossy from eating you out made him look and sound so utterly dirty, so much so that your body reacted way before you did, already crawling to him before he could finish that sentence fully.

You looked straight into his eyes as you opened your moth, a long string of saliva falling from your tongue in slow motion until it met the head of his cock. He looked right back at you as he spread it across his length. Heesung muttered curse after curse as you laid back down, and was quick to settle himself between your legs once more.

His tip pressed against your entrance, and you felt the stretch almost immediately, hissing and putting your hand on stomach as a reflex. He held your wrist gently, used his grip to pull your hand up to his face, pressing a soft kiss on your palm. His eyes fluttered shut as your warm skin came into contact with his lips. And when you moved to cup his cheek, he leaned into the touch instantly. You began to tease his bottom lip, running your thumb over it, and as he sunk himself even further, he caught it between his teeth, gently grazing them against your semilong nails, until he finally closed his mouth around it. He hummed.

It took Heesung a while to bottom out inside you, and you moaned and whined all the way through it; from the pain of being stretched open and from the pleasure of being stretched open. He moaned as well, as his hips met your pelvis, with your walls fluttering around his cock. His thoughts were going at a thousand miles, all of them screaming at him to really, really fuck you into the mattress. But he stayed put for the sake of your enjoyment, he had promised you a good night and he was going to drag it out as much as he could for your and his enjoyment.

Still with your thumb between his lips, he began to slowly move his hips, barely pulling out before pushing back in to get you used to his girth. You gripped his bicep with your free hand, scratching down on his skin until the sting started to dissipate. You took notice of the way he held his breath as the speed began to increase, moaning and groaning when you squeezed him in.

It was dizzying, how you felt him everywhere. In your hand, with his moans vibrating on your palm; inside you as he dragged his cock, barely managing to pull out an inch before diving back in, pressing himself against you as much as he could so that he was fully settled inside your walls. Due to his cocky attitude, you didn't take him for the type of guy to be vocal. But there he was, whining louder and louder, almost uncontrollably, and that only turned you on more. The fact that you, too, were making him feel good and he was not afraid to show it.

You weren't usually this pliant and submissive, preferring to put up a little bit of a fight, managing to make guys submit to you instead as you took the lead. With Heesung, though, it was different, whether it was because was mesmerizing or because you had never felt such heightened pleasure, it was clear that he had control from the moment he got closer to you before he made his offer. And you could take control, probably, but you didn't want to. You wanted Heesung to do the work, to prove himself.

Which he was, taking on a pleasurable rhythm that had you moaning louder than him. One of his hands found the plush of your hips and gripped onto it for leverage to angle himself. The other one traveled from your chest all the way down to your clit, rubbing messy circles with his thumb, making you throw your head back into the pillows, along with a cry of his name.

The echo of his skin hitting against yours fueled him. Heesung didn't know where he should be looking at, if at your beautifully contorted face, with your eyes closed shut and your lips parted, or down, to where a white ring of your slick began to sorround the base of his cock each time he pulled out, noises growing increasingly wetter.

“You're driving me fucking insane,” he grunted.

There was no response from you, only whines of pleasure as you neared your second release. His thumb circled faster, not too hard, but enough to send all of your senses into overdrive, encouraging you to reach your climax, dying to know if you'd feel as good on his cock as you did on his fingers. And although he was dying to kiss you, he held back his urges just to see your face as you came, with your legs closing around his waist, your body slightly convulsing off the bed. It was nothing short of delightful.

You attempted to catch your breath, but heesung didn't give you time to process your intense orgasm as he flipped you onto your stomach. He pressed your cheek into the mattress and accommodated your lower half as he pleased. You were barely able to hold your ass up in the air for him, your knees weak as he entered you again. Only then did you register that you had come twice already, but had yet to see or feel a single drop from him.

“You are fucking insane,” you groaned, teary eyed.

He chuckled, movements coming to a halt. “I made you come twice and you still complain? Tsk. Greedy.” He dug his nails into your hips, making you wince. “Sorry you're tired, but it's my turn now.”

With that, his thrusts resumed, opting for a quicker, rougher pace than before, clearly turning a bit more selfish and now after his own release. The new position allowed him to reach deeper, making you press yourself back onto him to meet him halfway, chasing the sensation despite the pang of pain from having orgasmed so recently.

Heesung leaned down to bite onto your shoulder, in the pace where his tshirt wouldn't cover, making sure to engrave his teeth into your skin, hoping the next man you tried to sleep with would be turned off by the markings. He let go when you complained, kissing and licking onto it instead, whispering more soft apologies, although both of you knew that he wasn't sorry at all.

After a while his thrusts became more erratic, losing any pacing he tried to maintain. The grip on your hips was bruising, but you thought you wouldn't have it any other way.

“Touch yourself for me,” he commanded in between his moans.

You reached down between your body and the matress, struggling to reach your clit as Heesung's thrusts moved and pressed you against the sheets. Your motions were slow and light despite the harsh snapping of heesung's hips, slowly building up the pressure in your lower stomach until any discomfort you felt was gone, your fingers now matching his speed, mindless of the way your cunt tightened around him almost painfully.

He didn't stop nor slow down, not even as he came. Loud moans spilled from his lips, attempting to drag out his release as much as he could. And you followed soon after, body giving out under heesung to lay flat onto the bed, breathing heavily. He spread your legs carefully to not miss the way his cum oozed out of you, dripping down onto your folds. You turned your head back as best as you could, and through the mess of hair on your face, you still caught the way he smiled to himself as he watched.

“This is video worthy,” Heesung murmured, dragging his fingers up your cunt to fuck his cum back into you. “You're gonna make me hard again.”

You squirmed away from him, kicking at his sides. “Stop it,” you whined, then whined again as he pulled his fingers out languidly, the sight so painfully naughty it almost made you ask him to fuck you again. However, you were too tired to even hold yourself up.

Heesung's whole demeanour changed, and he was back to being just him; playful and soft spoken. “Sorry,” he chuckled, the only time it sounded like he actually meant it. He hovered over you, moving your hair to place gentle kisses on the nape of your neck.

It made you sigh, muscles finally relaxing, and your hearbeat now back to normal. Or sort of normal.

For the sake of the moment, you tried not to think about anything; about the fact that you just had the most intense and amazing sex with your best friend, no other. And you had to admit that you were kind of sad about the fact that it was over, and that it was probably gonna be a one time thing to protect the friendship. So you allowed yourself to be held by him, pushing any and all thoughts to the back of your mind.

“You're beautiful, you know?” he whispered against your skin.

He was making it way too hard.

“Not so bad yourself,” you mumbled jokingly. Heesung was fucking beautiful, too. “M'gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

“Sleep, then,” he smiled.

“Thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“The dick, and the kisses.”

Heesung couldn't help but laugh, a loud but oddly comforting sound as you began to drift off.

“Anytime.”

[duc-kie]

Could you write about Lando after his p2 in Singapore and he goes full dominative on you? Maybe that you went out before with Carlos and a couple of the other drivers to celebrate the Singapore podium and you have been teasing him the whole night and he’s completely done with it?

Okay I know I took a really long time to answer and I’m genuinely sorry. I’ve been going feral over the video below. It also inspired me to make this blurb🤭

This looked better in my head tbh. Written it just feels really random and idk. Still hope you like it though!

THE FINGERS, THE RING, THE GENTLENESS, JUST HIM IN GENERAL

---------------------------------------------------------

You were enjoying yourself on the dance floor with some of your friends, while your boyfriend Lando was celebrating his podium with some fellow drivers. This whole night has been crazy, full of sexual tension and teasing touches between the two of you.

You've been craving Lando the whole day. All you wanted was his touch all over you and he knew it. You tried to seduce him but he wouldn't give in, so you decided to wear the sexiest dress you own to the after party for his Singapore P2 finish.

His eyes widened when you arrived with your girlfriends. You enjoyed a few drinks and were quite tipsy and consequently even hornier so you made your way to the table where Lando and his friends were chatting and having drinks. You greeted them all before sitting on Lando's lap and taking a sip of his whiskey. Licking your lips, you leaned down to kiss him.

When you started moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his already semi hard dick he had enough. He excused you both and basically dragged you to a just slightly more private corner and pinned you against the wall. His knee found it’s way between your legs, pressing on the spot where you’ve been craving his touch for a while. "You still wanna play games?" he asked wrapping a hand around your neck. "but what about all the people Lando?" you asked looking around to see if anyone is looking at you. "you didn't seem to care before, did you?" he asked and before you could answer he shoved his tongue down your throat.

You couldn't help but start grinding on his knee that was still between your thighs. letting our quiet moans.

You pulled away from the kiss catching your breath and looking around wondering how many people are watching you. he grabbed your chin and turned your head to face him telling you to keep your eyes on him. "these people are too drunk to care what we're doing, don’t worry" he reassured you before taking your hand and leading you through the crowd to the VIP area.

There was no one there so you felt slightly more at ease. Lando didn’t waste any time and quickly continued what you started. Pinned against the wall you felt his fingers drag your panties down your legs. He took them off and stuck them in his pocket.

His lips then quickly found their way to your neck. He knew where all your sweet spots were and he made sure he left a mark on every single one. Moans and needy whimpers left your lips from the wet and warm feeling on your neck. Your hands made their way up his arms to play with his hair.

Lando reached down to gently rub your clit, soaking his fingers in your pre-cum. "mmm so wet" he quietly murmured into your neck. "Lando please" you moaned out, desperate to have his fingers shoved deep inside you. "what do you want princess, use your words." he encouraged you, continuing to rub your pussy painfully slowly.

"I want you to finger fuck me" you said, adding a "please". That wasn't enough for him though. "beg for it" he said looking straight into your eyes. You were so desperate for at least just a little more friction in your sensitive areas, words and pleads just spilled out of you. When you were practically on your knees begging, Lando was finally satisfied.

He stopped rubbing your clit for just a minute to quickly taste you on his fingertips, humming in satisfaction. A finger quickly found it’s way into your pussy, and he was quick to add another one. They slid in with ease since you were so wet you were practically dripping on the floor from the buildup of desperation throughout the whole day.

You were clenching around his fingers, chasing release. It didn’t take long for you to reach your high and spill cum all over his soft fingers. Moaning his name you grabbed his shoulders for support, nearly collapsing. While you were trying to catch your breath he shoved a finger into your mouth expecting you to suck it clean, and you obviously obeyed.

After you regained balance he walked you out of the bar. Your cheeks were extremely red walking through the crowd of people that probably saw everything, not to mention you were in a really short dress without panties underneath.

You can probably imagine how the rest of your night went after you came home.

[flutterylust]

“YUTA OKKOTSU, THE PERV...”

part 1. | part 2.

🎈PAIRING 🎈 : pervert!yuta x fem!reader

🚨 WARNINGS 🚨 : masturbation (m), lowkey depraved yuta ( He uses panties to jack off lol ), mentions of rika, oblivious reader, all characters are aged up btw ( college aged ).

🍎 NOTES 🍎: this is just a warmup, get ready for full blown smut next part >:) also who can tell I JUST watched JJK 0? I'm a little rusty at writing frisky stuff, many apologies! If I missed any warnings lmk but ya.... Consider interacting, smut will be out when i finally feel up to it. ^^

🌷WORD COUNT 🌷 : 1k

Intrigued!Yuta, who is a regular at a small local diner, family owned where the only employees are family members.

Intrigued!Yuta, who only stumbled across the place because his friends knew a certain girl in that diner.

Intrigued!Yuta, who just became entranced by your pretty face and easygoing personality, a stark contrast from his shut-in nature.

Sure, Intrigued!Yuta had gotten rid of Rika, but after years of avoiding people, especially women, he couldn't find within himself to introduce himself to you as warmly as you did. He couldn't bring himself to shake your hand with how sweaty his palms were!

Intrigued!Yuta, who keeps recommending that diner run by your parents to friends when they all want to eat a cheap meal. Intrigued!Yuta, who ends up going alone after his friends are sick of eating the same stuff every single time they can go out.

Intrigued!Yuta, who learns how you need to keep working for your parents in return for them paying off your university's tuition. You were going to make such a wonderful nurse, although he did worry a curse might latch onto such a wonderful person like you! He loves speaking to you during the slow hours.

Pervert!Yuta, whose innocent feelings towards you shift when you accidentally drop your notepad on the floor and you bend to pick it up, accidentally flashing him a glimpse of your black, lacy panties.

Pervert!Yuta, who gets to his dorm room and finds his hands reaching down to unbuckle his belt. Not unfamiliar with the constricting feeling inside his boxers, just remembering your risqué panties. He wasn’t a saint. He had masturbated a few times. But it never felt so depraved. He never felt so gross and perverted palming over the growing bulge in his boxers, imagining you, someone he wasn't even talking to remotely romantically.

Pervert!Yuta, who has post-nut-clarity, feeling an insane amount of guilt about cumming to the image of how smooth your thighs looked and how your panties were so snug against your fat cunt, outlining the crease of your labia.

Pervert!Yuta, who immediately feels guilty the next time he sees you, unable to see you innocently again. Everytime you come to chat with him, he tries to focus but his focus shifts. All he can imagine now is kissing and nibbling your plump, glossy lips until you're both out of breath and dazed. All he can imagine is how your lips would look and feel trailing down his abs to the hem of his boxers.

Pervert!Yuta, who begins having the desire to drop something on purpose so he can have something to gawk at.

Pervert!Yuta, who is now taking his time eating his food and hanging around you at the diner. His hands practically shake at the scent of your sweet perfume as you bend over to take a plate off his table, annoyed that he won't leave yet despite all the other patrons having left a while ago.

Pervert!Yuta, who finds out what perfume you wear and buys it impulsively, debating whether or not to gift it to you or keep it so he can smell your signature scent whenever he wants without making you stick around so at the diner to see you and get his fill of you.

Pervert!Yuta, who walks past a lingerie store, eyes skimming past the storefront before stopping completely at the sight of a pair of panties that looked similar to the ones you owned.

Pervert!Yuta, who can't help himself and buys them, not really bothered to think about the size.

Pervert!Yuta, who decides when he gets to his dorm room that he won't gift the perfume to you and instead takes the bottle out of its package and sprays some of it's contents onto one of his worn-down hoodies, pressing the soft fabric against his face with one hand, deeply inhaling the familiar, hypnotizing scent, his free hand working on his belt buckle.

Pervert!Yuta, who makes quick work of pulling his pants down, letting them pool to the floor, palming at his growing erection as he inhales your scent, imagining things he hasn't yet seen. Imagining that it was your soft and feminine hands palming at his bulge instead of him.

Pervert!Yuta, whose boxers are becoming tighter by the second just imagining you out of your waitressing uniform wearing only a matching set of lacy black underwear he has dreamt of and ruined so many of his boxers over.

Pervert!Yuta, who lets his boxers pool at his ankles along with his pants, decides amidst his hazy lust-filled brain to use the panties he just bought to masturbate, imagining it was your cunt instead.

Pervert!Yuta, who starts off slow, wrapping the new panties snugly around his cock, aided by the copious amount of precum and some of his spit. Imagining you straddling his cock, shifting those lewd black panties to the side and kissing the tip of his cock with your dripping fat cunt before slowly enveloping his cock in your tight heat.

Pervert!Yuta, whose cock weeps with arousal at the thought of your tight and greedy pussy swallowing him whole, having to settle for using drenched panties he thought looked like yours to mimic how snug your cunt would feel around his member.

Pervert!Yuta, who just knows he'd be stretching you out so painfully good and making you see stars, hips stuttering up into the panties just imagining how your face would scrunch up at how unbelievably good it all felt, his balls tightening, having reached his peak before his bulbous cockhead released a sticky mess all over the intricate black lace he held and his hand, fat creamy globs of cum dripping down his palm onto the white sheets on his bed.

Pervert!Yuta, who still is unsatisfied.

Pervert!Yuta, who wants to see and feel the real thing.

Pervert!Yuta, who's willing to try to change and become more extroverted to get on your level.

THANKS!!

shy.

please do not steal or copy my work!!

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 19 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Bob is away, Anna can feel his absence everywhere. But nothing beats a perfect reunion. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of smut, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Months later....

Sitting in the coffee shop alone after visiting so many times with Bob truly made Anna sad. She was so used to sipping her coffee while he drank his hot tea, and somehow the scent always clung to his hair for hours afterwards. She'd bury her nose against him when they got home, and he would laugh when she told him he always smelled good.

But now he was gone, and she couldn't do anything about it. She accidentally burned her mouth on her coffee, and after that it tasted disgusting. She got herself a croissant, but they were better when shared. Tears stung her eyes, and she had to take a deep breath and convince herself that it would be over soon. Then she focused her attention on her computer as she worked through some more of the changes she wanted to make to her manuscript.

After three more paragraphs, it was no use. It wasn't even ten o'clock in the morning yet, but she gave up and switched to the notes app on her phone where she had been adding ideas for Jessica's bridal shower and bachelorette party. Physics jokes about the laws of attraction? Designer lingerie shop in LA? Can you make a math equation that looks like a penis?

She would defer to Advanced Calculus for that last item. With a sigh, she was about to close her computer, buy another croissant for Suzanne, and then head out when she saw a new email notification.

"No way," she gasped as she tapped on it and stared at her computer screen.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Anna's heart started pounding erratically, and her fingertips felt numb. Anticipation and confusion mingled together as she opened the link. It was difficult to read as she tried to take a deep breath, but she wanted to consume Bob's words as quickly as possible.

I can see the dusky outline on the horizon,

But the California coastline isn't enough.

I need to be at home.

I need my bookshelf.

I need my books.

I need your books.

I need my Anna.

I need to see you in the next two minutes,

Because twelve weeks is way too long.

"The next two minutes?" Anna mumbled to herself as she read the last lines over again. "Two minutes?" She was out of her seat immediately, neck craning around the crowded coffee shop, looking in every direction. And that's when she saw him stroll inside in his khaki uniform and silver glasses with the most handsome smile on his face.

"Bob!" she cried out, nearly tripping over her chair as she left her stuff behind to get to him as quickly as she could. He was home. He was home early from his deployment. Communication had been a little spotty, and there was so much she wanted to tell him, but he was finally home.

"Anna," he murmured as she threw herself at him, knocking the wind out of her own lungs. His arms were wrapped around her as soon as her lips met his, and she didn't care if there was a whole shop of people watching them. He was finally home. Somehow he still tasted like tea, and he smelled so good, she buried her nose against his neck as he chuckled.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, kissing him just above his shirt collar.

"Jess told me," he replied easily.

She kissed her way up to his ear as he started to slowly walk her backwards to the small table where she'd been sitting. "Why didn't you call me? I could have picked you up. I missed you so much."

"I just wanted to surprise you," he whispered, claiming her lips again as they stood next to the table.

She looked up at his pretty eyes and said, "This is a wonderful surprise. And I have one of my own."

"What is it?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing the freckles along her cheek and chin as she grinned up at him.

"I'm divorced."

His eyes went wide, and a sound of pure excitement escaped him as he scooped her up into his arms. "You're divorced?"

Anna laughed as she told him, "Finalized ten days ago. Fuck Kevin."

"You drove my truck here? Let's go," Bob said, immediately carrying her toward the exit.

"Wait, I need my stuff!"

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly very flustered as he helped her shove her computer and phone into her bag.

"I was planning to get a croissant or something to take to Suzanne," she said as he practically dragged her outside and down the street to his truck.

"Well, I was planning on taking you back to the bookstore to pick out something we could read together tonight, but this is even more important."

Anna ended up with her back pressed against the side of the truck while he unlocked the door, and she pressed her lips to his Adam's apple while she tried to hold onto her bag. She wanted to taste him everywhere. "Going right home actually sounds like a pretty good idea."

"That's exactly where we're going," he promised, tossing her stuff onto the seat before helping her in as well. The six seconds when he was walking around the truck and she couldn't touch him were miserable, but soon enough, he was kissing her while he started the engine. Then she had her fingers wrapped up with his while he started to drive. "I love you, Anna." He kept his eyes on the road as he made his way through Coronado, and she felt warmer than she had in twelve weeks. "I love you, and I would never pressure you to do anything you didn't want to do."

She turned to look at his handsome profile. "I know you wouldn't. That's why I love you so much."

She watched as he swallowed hard before saying, "I know we talked about our future, but it was always kind of ambiguous while we waited for your divorce decree."

"It's not ambiguous anymore!" Anna cheered as they neared his house where she had been living for months. "I'm ready for the future. The future is here. The future is now."

She was all smiles as he parked the truck with an anxious look in his eyes. "You told me you wanted me forever," he whispered, and Anna couldn't figure out why he looked so nervous. 

"Of course I want you forever," she told him once again. She'd made it as clear as she could that she was done running. Kevin and New Jersey and everything that could have broken her but didn't were all left in the past. She was moving on a little bit more every day with Bob and her best friends and her tenure track teaching position at San Diego State. She was unashamedly taking excellent care of herself, and she never stopped Bob when he told her she needed to take a break and that he'd handle something for her. She wasn't going anywhere ever again.

"I want you forever, too. And we can go slow, or we can go fast. Or you can tell me you don't want what I have to give you, and that's okay too."

"What?" she asked, her heart sinking in her chest as he parked and climbed out. She wanted everything Bob had to give, and she wanted to give him everything, too. They even talked about getting married someday after he initially got over his nerves enough to bring up the topic. She had assured him that he was exactly the only person she would do that with after her disastrous first marriage. Why would he think she didn't want what he had to give?

"Bob?" she asked as she climbed out as well and met him on the sidewalk. "Why do you look so concerned?" He didn't respond. He only led her up to the porch and unlocked the door. "Bob!" she complained when he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs, going two at a time until his breath was coming in shorter gasps. Instead of turning toward their bedroom like she expected, he went into the guest room and dropped her onto the futon.

She rarely came in here. It was almost funny that Bob planned on sleeping in this room when he insisted Anna come home with him after Kevin figured out where she lived. And now he was on his hands and knees, crawling under the futon as she asked, "What in the world are you doing?"

He hit his head and grunted in response, but a second later, he emerged with his hair all messed up and something in his hand. "I got you a ring."

"A ring?" she asked, realizing he was holding a small box. A jewelry box. She looked at him where he was kneeling in front of her, cheeks turning pink. "What kind of ring?" she whispered, hopeful yet needing to be sure.

Bob snapped the box open, and all Anna could see was a beautiful diamond. "An engagement ring. But only if you want it. I know you probably need more time. I don't even need an answer right now, I promise," he told her earnestly as she scooted a little closer to him. "You were still married two weeks ago, but I wanted to give it to you now anyway. You can wear it or not wear it. We can wait a while if you want. I just... wanted you to know it's all yours. I'm all yours."

She hadn't worn the rings from Kevin in over a year and a half. She pawned them with no remorse before she left for California. "It has been a very long time since I was really married, Bob." She took the box from his hand and looked at the ring. She couldn't stop smiling, and the tears in her eyes made the diamond look all blurry as she asked, "Do you really want to marry me? I'm a mess."

He grinned at her. "You're really not, Baby. You're smart and beautiful and funny and kind. You're a fighter. Of course I want to marry you."

Without another word, Anna took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. She'd known Bob long enough to be sure that his words were honest. She was willing to throw it all in on Sky Writing. "We can take our time," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him. "There's no need to rush. But I definitely want to wear this ring."

They made a long, luxurious stop in their bed where Anna almost lost her voice from the number of times she called out Bob's name, and then he made her lunch before the two of them made their way to the living room bookshelf. 

"We didn't make it to the bookstore to pick out anything new to read," she mused, brushing all of the colorful spines with her fingers.

"Maybe we could read the first book you ever recommended for me. Together this time," he replied, his hands settling on her hips as his chin rested on her shoulder. 

Anna smiled as she reached for A Room With a View, remembering so well the day she started to fall in love with Bob Floyd. The book still looked practically brand new even though he'd already read it, and she grinned as she said, "I can't wait to dog ear all your pages."

"I will gladly let you."

---------------------------

The End! Thank you for reading another adventure in the Sugarverse! I hope you learned that even when you're a mess and barely holding it together, you're still worthy of friendship and love. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[anantaru]

Hiya! I just came across your post about what would happen if you said the ‘safe word’ in bed with Alhaitham and ayato.. I was wondering if you’d maybe be able to do it with Kazuha, Xiao and Scaramouche? I’m so curious aha

If you don’t want to I completely understand but I just really like your writing style 🥺

cw. saying the safeword, angsty, fem! reader

a/n. hello loves, quick side note: this is an exception since i had already planned to write them in this scenario as well, please don't send thirsts with more than one character in the future <3 ty and enjoy

— kazuha

kazuha blows his hips into you, hard, precise storms of his thrusts finding your dribbling cunt and in any other typical case, you would've twisted and turned to have him deeper in you, arch your back when he licks his tongue over your neck to wet the skin— specifically to have his cock crowd you this way, until you're seeing nothing but glittering, white stars.

thus far, it didn't develop into the same thing and you begin to wonder why you haven't felt your best tonight. involuntarily you start to sense how you're clenching down on him, wrapping your trembling arms around his chest and hiding your face into his sweat-troubled neck, his pulse throbbing on your cheek.

for some reason, you thought that if you were to calm yourself down, without telling kazuha how you really felt, it would simply go away but again, this time it didn't and nothing was as important as voicing your concerns and discomfort during sex.

he closes your already troubled breathing state when he moves down to sloppily make out with you, ramming the head of his cock into your deepest spots while excitedly running his hand down your core to play with your little clit and stimulate you further as you did something he never thought he'd ever have to encounter nor witness.

you voice, cry and yell out your safe word over and over, right against his cheek when his eyes shot open in disbelief, large and wide, glossed in unwavering worry. every little sound of you felt like it’s multiplying by a tenfold, and you can’t stop.

kazuha pulls out immediately, pacing his eyes over your shaking figure back and forth, watching you again, back and forth, "my love." he says quietly, loosing the beat of his heart when he witnessed your tears spinning out of control. to be sure he was doing what was necessary, he decided to pull away the blanket which was clumsily thrown over you both in order to make it easier for you to breathe, not leaving your space, but he didn't lay a finger on you, the last he would want now was to cross any more boundaries and it eats him up inside, quietly crying.

"do—" his heart sinks, and so does his voice, "do you need water? are you thirsty? please.." absentmindedly, you run your fingers over his upper arm, but the panic in you, for whatever reason it had emerged, is all-consuming and couldn't be shaken off.

your stomach was in knots and you can barely catch yourself, but you also didn't want kazuha to leave you, voicing him clearly, although with a silent tone, that he should please stay. he directly nods in agreement, placing his palm on top of your agitating hand, telling you to take your time and that it was okay, in fact, you had nothing to worry about, he won't leave.

— xiao

xiao's rough touch and mundane scent was everywhere around you, perceivable and invading your nostrils. you loved it whenever he was a little rough with you, almost feral, pleasing your body until you're shaking from aftershocks of his skilled thrusts.

that time, he twists his fingers around your nipples, just a bit but he did it repeatedly, like you would if you were turning a particularly sensitive knob— and your mounds of flesh were beginning to burn, while his groans were getting louder, showing sweet euphoric need, through with a loud, fast smack of his hips repeatedly finding your soiled cunt.

in combination with him stimulating you on many parts at once, you suddenly began to feel tense and sore, experience an abnormality like you can’t focus on anything, not on him, especially not on the pleasure that of course, was feeling amazing and well but it also didn't.

your heart was racing greatly and you started to sweat profoundly, cold, washed over sweat untangling over your spine and forehead. subtle hints, such as tapping his shoulder were getting you nowhere, and it only made your situation worse as time passed.

"xiao!" you cry out in an instant, not knowing what to do as his blows got even faster, pistoling into your tight pussy, thinking you're enjoying it as much as he did. "xiao, please stop!" and you squeal your safe word and panic one last time before he immediately stills himself, as if you turned off a switch in his brain, making him reach down to push you away.

his gaze hovers around your face, and that's when he saw it, crystal clear, your scrunched together expression that was signaling no sorts of pleasure and he couldn't settle on looking at you for too long, it was beginning to eat him from the very within and his chest was heavy, filled with stones that kept him chained to the ground, so he gets up to sit next to your quivering body.

xiao was speechless, did he really just inflict clear, hurting pain on the person he loved the utmost, more than himself for that matter.

his once, with pleasure glowing eyes, take on a haunted look, open wide in helpless circles, not knowing what to do. if he were the same person before he met you, he would've left and punished himself for what he did but he knew, he just knew that it would make this situation even worse. so he decided to stay, although he didn't say much at first, he did everything in his power to help you, when you so desired any help of him.

it's when he speaks for the first time, "i'm—" and gulps down, eyes burgeoning with tears yet they do not slip, "i am so sorry." his neck grew corded with tension, jaw evertight as he bites down on his cheeks, "so sorry, so sorry.."

"please don't leave me." he continues, xiao makes the tiniest noise in his voice, a worried hitch in his breathing, and for a moment you think he might be leaving you instead, starting to think again that he wasn't enough and that you do deserve better than him. but he settles back down, he doesn't leave and you would lie if you say it didn't surprise you.

you brush away the spilled, dried tears on your cheeks, "i could never leave you." and take his hand to kiss his knuckles, "it's okay."

— scaramouche

scaramouche had immense power, you knew of that and how strong and rough he could get. he easily hauls you off his throbbing cock to abruptly push you into the mattress, hovering on top of you now so he could look and read your sinful expressions, gather and indulge in them while you relish in him fucking you with his fully erected cock.

your bottom lip quivers, and tears had since long been rimming around the sides of your eyes and in any other cases it would be an implication that he was doing a good job, "fuck— fuck, that feels so good." he groans out, ramming his hips into your split hole and groaning out when you clench around his girth.

truth is, he was way too fast and needy with you tonight, making it not possible for you to catch a single breather as he uses your cunt as he pleases, taking you in and out and hoisting you back and forth his leaking member. by this time, you could barely look at him with a clear vision, tears parting from your lashes at last when you cry out in gulps and chokes— the stretch on your cunt aching and forming into anything else than pleasure.

while your first moans were fallen on deaf ears, those in particular that slipped past the tip of your tongue now, made his skin shiver.

"wait— no, no." he quickly pulls you off when you began to uncontrollably sob under him, really not knowing what had caused all of this. he was quick to brush away the tears on your face, "i'm— I'm sorry, please don't cry." his touch for now, had been completely different than just moments ago, now it's warm and soft again, understanding and full of sorrow.

he swallows dryly, unable to wet his parched throat, he hated himself very much right now, his muscles stiffened when you decide to look at him. "i'm sorry." you suddenly state, "this is so embarrassing." confusing him even more and archons knew why you were apologizing in the first place, because you absolutely shouldn't.

"don't." he pushes a warm blanket over your cold, shaking body, "don't apologize." he adds on, "you're not at fault, you hear me."

his eyes soften when you nod, searching for his touch, eyes blood shot but you really needed him to hug you right now as he pulled slow circles on your hips, opening his arms for you so you could easily rest your head on his chest. "i was too rough with you tonight, right?"

"i mean—" he quickly retracts his statement, panicking and smacking himself in his imagination, "that's not important, take your time, don't speak and take your time."

"wait, but you can speak.. if you want."

you answer back with a breathless laugh, placing him in an even more confused state but you would lie to yourself if you'd say he wasn't adorable in his stuttering and his desperate attempts to make you feel comforted. "can we lay like this for the night?"

"of course." he affirms you immediately, "you don't have to ask." silently grazing his hand from your hips to place it on your dampened cheek to cradle your face, sweetly kissing your forehead and smiling.

"everything you want."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[mirrology]

Can I ask a boothill with an adopted child/teen reader that's hps (hyper sensitive) and also has parental trauma

(You don't have to do this if you feel uncomfortable 🐧)

ノstar .ᐟ ʚɞ

୨୧ No matter that love's gone, We just see it shining. We've traveled very far, I'll keep a leftover light burning. So you can keep looking up, Isn't that worth holding on? — star, mitski.

boothill & gender neutral reader. platonic | wc: 1.6k

tags/warnings: decided to go with hc's for this one since I didn't know how to write it in fic format T_T. teen reader, reader is a galaxy ranger and really well versed in technology. they can fight pretty well, reader also hates the ipc. boothill is a bad influence. mentioned child abuse, child neglect, reader has a "mom" and acts a little like blade when near her, erm character death (not reader or boothill)

notes: aaaa sorry that this is so late! Hopefully, this is what you meant by "hypersensitive." If not, then just let me know, and I'll change it, ALSO HAPPY PRIDE MONTH

— The two of you met when you were beating up some IPC goons on a planet that they had recently wanted to take over. You had been there gathering materials to set sail to your next destination, you were on the hunt for a certain IPC employee. One who you once knew.

— You couldn't just stand back and watch those IPC scum send that planet into spiraling chaos. So, of course, you beat them up without breaking a sweat. That's where Boothill had found you, he was impressed that someone so young had such skill in combat.

↳ You huffed as the remaining IPC personnel ran away with their tails between their legs. A slow sound of applause came from behind you, causing you to turn around, a deadpan evident on your face. You were met with a man with dual colored hair and what seemed to be a metal body, “I'm not gonna lie, you've got skills, kid.” He had said, a smirk on his face.

— Once the both of you got to talking, he found out you were also a galaxy ranger and that you also absolutely hated the IPC, you both really had many things in common. You had asked him for help in getting to your destination and he agreed pretty easily, claiming that he had “some time to spare”

— Although you had spent little time together, you felt comfortable around him, he never pushed your boundaries or forced you to do things you didn't want to. Boothill’s vocabulary surprised you, instead of cursing normally his words were censored. You would have offered to try to fix his synesthesia beacon, but just the thought of touching someone made your skin crawl. The ghostly touches of people who you once considered family etched onto your skin.

— Once it came to part ways, you didn't want to do so. You shyly admitted to Boothill that the thought of not seeing him scared you a tad bit. He looked surprised but then gave you a bright smile and told you that you could join him on his adventures, and so a strong bond between the both of you was born.

— When Boothill infiltrated the IPC headquarters you're the one who hacked into their system. With your experience, it was relatively easy, although Boothill would not let you go inside with him. He couldn't risk putting you in danger, even though he knows you can put up a fight.

— When the both of you escaped the headquarters after causing absolute chaos, Boothill brought his hand up to your head as he tried to ruffle your hair. He was surprised and slightly hurt when you tensed up and quickly moved out of the way.

— Boothill thought he had made you scared of him somehow, even though you had no reason to be afraid. You noticed his downcast expression and you quickly told him that he did nothing wrong, it was just…

↳ Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands were sweating. You reached up and gripped a strand of your hair in your hand as a sheepish expression painted your face. “I'm not the best with physical touch,” You blurted out, albeit bluntly. “Whenever someone touches me — even if it's just a brush of their fingers, it feels like needles are being stuck into my skin” You huffed, clenching your fist and your eyes downcast. Boothill's expression softened, his once frown lifting into an understanding smile. “Thanks for telling me, bud.” He nodded, his fingers twitching at his side, as if wanting to reach out to you. Yet he respected your space and refrained from doing so.

— Now that Boothill knew about your hypersensitivity he made no attempts to touch you, preferring to give you gifts instead. Whenever you do something that makes him proud as a father would a child; he takes you out to get your favorite food as a treat. Of course verbal encouragement is also a thing he does, giving you a “I'm proud of ya’ kid!” and a pointy grin.

— It's canon Boothill is pretty wealthy from all of those bounties that he hunts and he doesn't exactly know what to do with it. So he definitely spoils you at every chance he gets. Want a nice Keychain you saw in a shop? He's handing it to you right now. How about a nice piece of clothing or a cultural food from the planet that you're visiting? He's got the clothing in a bag and is urging you to try the food.

— Even though you both have your moments of happiness, the both of you still have purposes you stick to. You had gotten a lead on where that person was and you were going to do everything to catch up to them and make them get what they deserved.

↳ “You.” You hissed walking towards the woman in an IPC uniform, kicking another unconscious employee away. You gripped your weapon tightly in your hand, the woman widened her eyes in terror at your sudden appearance, she fell on her bottom, scooting away from you as you approached her. As she backed away she didn't go far, her back hitting a wall not too long after. Your unhurried footsteps resonated through her ears, making her breath pick up as she clutched the dirt underneath her in an attempt to ground herself.

You stopped in front of her, eyes full of unbridled anger. “(N-name)?!” She squeaked, putting a hand out infront of her to reach out to you. “What are.. how are you-” She was cut off as the back of your weapon slapped her intruding hand away. “You don't get to say my name.” You glared at her, your tone icy cold and unforgiving. She tried to speak once more but was once again cut off, “You left me to die! If it wasn't for my quick thinking, I would have been dead by now!” You said in a firm tone and pointed your weapon straight at her, leaving her no room to move or else you would attack.

The woman tensed up and a bead of sweat ran down the side of her cheek, “Honey… I had no choice! You would only weigh me down, you have to understand!” She had the gall to call you “honey” this woman no longer had the honor of doing so. The words stung, even though you no longer felt any affection for her… they brought back memories that you would rather forget. You clenched your teeth and watched as she rambled on and on about how “it was for your own good” and that “you should try to understand her situation” before she would get another word out, you sound your weapon, officially slicing her throat.

The blood splattered onto your stoic face, you watch as she choked on her own blood, eyes wide and filled with panic as if her life was flashing before her eyes… you hope it hurts.

A set of footsteps came from behind you, judging by the jingling of metal and their heavy footsteps you could tell who it was. You reluctantly turned around to meet Boothill's concerned gaze, “Er.. ya’ okay kiddo?” He scratched the side of his face as he pointed out the tears that prickled at the corner of your eyes. You stared at the ground and slowly nodded “I don't entirely hate her, but she didn't deserve to know that… even in her last moment” You muttered as more salty tears filled your vision.

— You and Boothill headed back to your ship, all while you were still occasionally shedding tears. Boothill, seeing the state you were in, offered you a warm, fluffy blanket and a warm drink; hot chocolate.

↳ You sniffled and held the blanket that was over your shoulders to your chest. You were sat on a cushion on the floor of yours and Boothill’s ship, knees tucked towards your chest in an attempt to stop yourself from crying. “Heya kiddo, I got ya’ some hot chocolate…” Boohill plopped down next to you on a matching cushion and held out the mug that was in his robotic hand. His hand was placed below the mug so when you reached to get it, you both wouldn't accidentally brush fingers.

The both of you sat in a pregnant silence and you occasionally sipping on the warm drink provided to you. Boothill stared at you from the corner of his eye, your gaze was focused on the window, giving you the view of the vast space. “She was my mother, you know” You suddenly broke the silence with your blunt words, Boothill’s eyes widened a significant amount, yet you continued.

“Even though she claimed to love me, her actions hurt and her words even more.” You put your mug down beside you and snuggled further into the blanket. The cyborg's face softened into something different, almost sad, distraught. His teeth clenched in anger at the thought of you being hurt by that woman, something ugly bloomed in his mechanical chest.

“But now she's gone,” Boothill started, making you turn your head to look at him with a surprised expression. “She can't hurt you anymore nor anyone, not when I'm around” He grinned, his shark-like teeth out on display. Something in your chest felt warm, it was different but not unpleasant. You offered Boothill a small smile then took a deep breath and raised your pinky up, “Pinky promise?” your voice a bit shaky, but your eyes were filled with determination.

Boothill slowly brought his pinky up, gently intertwining it with yours. They were barely touching but it was progress, “Promise.” The cyborg nodded firmly.

Tears pricked at you eyes, not in sadness nor anger, but relief.

“Thank you.”

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Accidentally Bring Up an Insecurity| Jisung

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

You had always admired Han's loving spirit and his ability to find inspiration in the smallest things. He brought light into your life in ways you never thought possible. And he helped you see the world in a way most didn't. You loved that you had that in common with Han- an appreciation for things that breathed life into your creative works.

You had never been very good at drawing. Or writing. Or anything having to do with the fine arts. Rather your creativity came more in a problem solving way. But in order to connect with Jisung, you decided to take up sketching to connect with Han a little more, because you loved him.

But that just created a deep-rooted insecurity about your creative abilities. Surrounded by so many talented people - as you were around the kids -you often felt your own contributions paled in comparison, and it was a fear you kept to yourself.

One evening, Han was over at your place, working on some new lyrics while you attempted to write poetry. He was sprawled on the couch, notebook in hand, humming a melody under his breath. You sat at your desk, scribbling down words and then erasing them feeling increasingly frustrated with your lack of progress.

You had long given up drawing, and you thought it might be easier to write a poem, since it was words that described your feelings. You could easily write a poem about something you knew well right? It couldn't be that hard.

You scratched your head as you tried to think of rhymes.

"How's it going over there?" Han asked, glancing up from his notebook.

"Not great," you mumbled, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

Han chuckled, not noticing your tone. "I figured."

His casual comment felt like a sting, a reminder of your perceived inadequacies. You forced a smile and nodded, but inside, you felt your confidence crumbling.

He got up and walked over to you, picking up your paper in his hands. He chuckled. "Poetry now huh?"

You felt your cheeks burn and tried to take it from him. "No-"

"No jagiya I want to read it." He said holding it above your head and reading it. "You make me laugh when I am sad, Your jokes are the best I've ever had. When you smile, my heart feels light, You make everything so bright." Han giggled again. "It's like one of those poems we had to write in elementary school."

That made your cheeks burn even more. "Jisung give it back-"

"Your hugs are warm, your eyes so kind, With you, I leave my worries behind. You're my sunshine, my best friend, With you, I hope the good times never end." He gives you a cute pouty face in a teasing manner. "Awww Y/N... it's such a cute little poem. It's like a little nursery rhyme."

"Jisung stop!" You called out again, feeling your eyes burn as you put your fists to your eyes, the embarrassment you had taking over.

"I know my poem's not that great, But loving you is my favorite fate. Thank you Jisung..." His smile fell and he swallowed. "Thank you...Jisung for...for being you. My love for you is always true." He looked up and seemed to realize what he was teasing you about and his lip trembled. "Y/N-"

"I want to be alone." You mumbled through your tears. Jisung wanted to reach out, but he knew he had hurt your feelings, but knowing you he also knew you needed space.

The next few days were a blur of self-doubt and creative blocks. You avoided drawing and writing, and found excuses to stay busy with other tasks. Han noticed your change in behavior and even if you guys had talked a couple hours after the incident, he still didn't think his apology was enough.

One afternoon, while you were both working on a puzzle together, Han brought up the subject again. "Hey, you know I'm really really sorry right?"

You nodded. "I know. I'm not mad anymore, Jisung."

Han frowned. "But you haven't been writing at all. Or drawing...I feel like it's my fault. No...I know it's my fault. I'm sorry I made fun of your poem- I loved it. I really did. It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever written me..."

You felt a pang in your chest, wishing you could believe him. "Thanks, but sometimes it feels like I'm just not good enough."

Han looked taken aback. "What do you mean? You're incredibly talented."

You sighed, finally letting out a bit of your frustration. "It's just… I see how talented everyone else is, including you, and I can't help but feel like my work doesn't measure up."

Han's expression softened, and he reached out to squeeze your hand. "You're amazing in your own right, and comparing yourself to others isn't fair to you. I wouldn't ever want you to compare yourself to me. That's like comparing a doctor to an actor. Both are genius in their own right, but do you expect an actor to be able to perform surgery like a doctor? Or the doctor to recite the entire second act of Hamlet? You have your talents that I could never even begin to measure up to, Y/N. Its the same with everyone who walks this planet..."

His words were kind, but they didn't fully reach the core of your insecurity. You forced a smile and nodded, hoping the conversation would end there.

A week later, Han invited himself over to your house, hoping to put an end to both of your guy's misery. You hated feeling like you had to walk on eggshells around him, and he hated thinking he was making you uncomfortable.

You guys ate dinner and started watching a drama. After the fourth episode Han pressed the pause button.

"Baby...can I show you something?"

You nodded, slightly confused as to why Jisung would pause your binge.

He grabbed his laptop from his bag and came back towards you, placing his headphones on your head.

He unlocked his laptop, clicked a few buttons and a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyes widened.

"Did you guys wrtie a new song?" You asked excitedly, but Jisung shushed you gently and motioned for you to listen.

You closed your eyes and let yourself go, embracing the music fully.

You felt your heart almost stop when you heard the words of your poem masterfully intricated into the song.

"Why did you show me that?" you asked, your voice trembling. You didn't dare open your eyes, or you were sure the tears you had would fall.

Han sounded puzzled. "Because it's great and I wanted to share it."

"But it's not great," you snapped, tears falling from your eyes as you opened them. "People will know you just used those words. You're so much more well versed and-"

Han stopped in his tracks, realization dawning on him. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just wanted to show them how talented you are.” You shook your head.

"Ouch, Y/N..." Jisung chuckled, his voice breaking a little. You looked at Han, whose chubby cheeks were encompassed by his pout. His boba eyes sad.

"No- No baby I meant... I feel like my words are stupid. Not your voice. Your song was absolutely beautiful... I just feel like I made you waste such a good backtrack."

You wiped away a tear, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "It's not your fault. It's just… I can't help but feel like I'll never be as good as everyone else. And I feel like you did that to make me feel better..."

Han pulled you into a tight hug, his voice gentle and soothing. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You're incredibly talented and creative, and your art is a reflection of who you are. It's unique and beautiful, just like you."

You clung to him, the sincerity in his words slowly breaking through your walls. "I just want to feel like I'm enough," you whispered.

Han held you at arm's length, looking into your eyes. "You are more than enough. Your worth isn't defined by how perfect your art or writing is or how you compare to others. It's about the passion and love you put into what you do."

His words resonated with you, and you felt a sense of comfort and reassurance. Han's unwavering support and belief in you made a difference, and you realized that your insecurities didn't define you.

"And I didn't make that song to make you feel better...I made it so you could see just how much inspiration I find from you. Y/N I love you more than anything. So, I was over the moon when I wrote this. And even more elated when I got to use the words the love of my life wrote. That's only the demo..." He grins sheepishly. "I was thinking...it would sound cool if you could leave that poem as a voicemail. I could make it the outro of the song..."

You looked at him with wide eyes. "You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it baby. I mean... I know Stay speculates I'm in a relationship...it's been a year now so I feel like this would be a fun way of confirming that. And I want the world to hear the beautiful voice of my baby." He coos, squishing your cheeks.

You giggle and nod, as Han peppers kisses all over your face.

One evening, as you both sat on the couch, Han handed you a sketchbook he had bought for you. "I got this for you. I want you to fill it with whatever makes you happy. No pressure, just pure creativity. It doesn't even have to be art. Maybe you could write me more poems..."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you, Ji. For everything."

Han wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm always here for you. And for inspiration. Because you're my inspiration." He says nuzzling his nose against yours.

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of peace and contentment.

His inspiration. You thought.

What an amazing thing to be...

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel

[spidybaby]

Footnote | Part Three

Summary: After you moved out of Barcelona, you returned to find yourself again. Pablo finds out and wants to make amends with you.

Warnings: cursing, NSFW, depression talk, death topic.

A/N: I want to thank all the support you guys give to this piece. It was so fun to make, and to be honest. I thought this was a one part only. Thank you to 🥀 anon, who requested the first part. This was fun to write. I love you all 💛✨️

Part one | Part two

Pablo freezes, he feels his heart palpitations in his ears. He feels how his blood pressure is up.

"What do you mean?"

"You have to stop. Seriously." You say, walking to the other side of the couch and picking your things.

"What are you doing?" He asks, heart about to get out of his chest. "Don't leave."

"Stop!" You yell. "Pablo, you have to stop playing."

You walk to the door, you feel anger inside of you. The door is shut down by Pablo. He grabs your arms and turn you around.

"I'm not playing."

"You are." You say, stern tone. "You rejected me. You told me I needed to sober up the night I told you that I had feelings for you." You hit his chest, reminding him of his own words. "You told me time was not changing the way you felt for me, and now, you are telling me that you love me."

"I do, I love you." He whines. "Preciosa, por favor."

"Then why did you hurt me?"

"I'm sorry I did that, I was so scared of fucking things up." He yells too. "I was so scared of losing you."

"You only thought about you." You push him away. "You left me cry myself to sleep so many times, all because you were a coward who couldn't face his feelings."

"Y/n, it's not like that."

"Then how it is?" You ask, mad at him. "You were the one who told me you liked her. You were the one who was with her during all the time we were apart." You remind him.

"Paula never mattered to me." He grabs your face. "You do. I left her for you."

You grab his hands, taking them away from you. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" You chuckle. "Pablo, you confessed you are in love with me since we were fucking kids! But you couldn't say it the night of the party?"

You feel anxious, you want to get out of his house. You want to go home and be alone in your room.

"I was wrong." He gets close again. "I was so afraid, believe me. And when you came to tell me you were with your boyfriends, I was so mad at them. They could have you, and I couldn't."

His hands find your hips and pull you to him, making you smash against his chest. "You were worried about losing me? Well, Pablo, you did. Now let go of me."

You try to push him away, but his grip on your hips grows. You can't give in. You need to leave the house.

Por favor." He beg. "We can make this work."

"Let me go." You say, turning your head. You can't look at him. "Please do."

He shakes his dead, hugging your back and hiding his head on the crock of your neck. When his shoulders started to shake you feel bad.

"Pablo, mi amor." You say, trying to calm him down. "Please let me go, we can talk some other time."

"You won't be back." He whispers, sobbing. "We can fix this, please."

"Pablito, we need to calm down." You whisper too. "Please, you have to let go of me."

You grab his arms, pulling them away from you slowly. He gives in, not wanting you to feel forced or something.

"You won't be back." He sobs.

You can't lie to him and tell him that you would. You can't pretend that this is going to be easy for the two of you.

You place your hand on his cheek, caressing it. He gives in into your touch, enjoying the warmth of your hand.

"I'm sorry I fucked this." He cries.

You dry his tears. Pablo crying made your heart break. You want to hug him and tell him that you do want to fix things up.

"I have to go." You whisper, kissing his cheek. "I'll see you around."

He nods, placing his hands on top of yours. He brings it to his mouth and kisses it. "I love you." You nod, half smiling at him.

You take your hand away from his. Walking quickly to the exit. You run to your car as soon as you close his door.

You rush home, barely saying hello to your parents, walking quickly upstairs. You lock your door, undressing and turning the temperature from hot to cold.

You feel every fiber of your body tense at the temperature and untense a few seconds later. You want to cry, but you won't.

You won't spend another night crying about him and his decisions. Not after all the work it took you. Not after crying yourself to sleep while thinking you were not worthy for love if the only boy you trusted with your life didn't love you.

You turn the water off, grabbing the towel that you keep there to dry you. You walk back into your room.

You open your computer, searching that email you left ignored in your list. You open the link, writing the requirements.

You sent that pdf you don't want to send, but if you don't want to do it... why did you even have it ready?

You know the time difference is helping you. You checked Google and noticed that you were just in time to beat the deadline.

You change into your pajamas, not caring about what happens next. You turn the lights off and force yourself to sleep.

Unsuccessfully, you were wide awake all night. The only sounds you could hear at this time were the normal morning sounds.

You decide to get food, walking downstairs and finding your grandma drinking her normal coffee.

"Isn't it a little bit early for you to be awake?" She asks, narrow eyes.

You nod, grabbing the bread and some things to prepare a sandwich. "I'm just breaking the routine."

She watches you, she wants to ask. "How was your night?"

"It was," you try to think on a word that shows that it was good but not good. "Something?" You say doubtfully. "Yeah, something."

She doesn't ask any more questions. You finish preparing your food and walk out of the kitchen. Walking to the tv and turning it to find something to watch.

It's funny that the channel the tv was on is about to play the repetition of the last Barcelona vs. Girona game.

You don't mind changing it. Feeding your pain with the image of him. You bite into your food while cursing him in your mind.

Thinking things you won't ever dare to say to him. Name calling him the worst he could ever think. Criticizing his ability to think rationally for other things outside the field.

You sob, trying to hide it by bitting your food. You can't help the cries, you can't help but think that you could be together if he wasn't a coward.

> Patience won't change how I feel about you. <

You dry your tears and turn the tv off. This is what everybody always wanted for you two. Why is it so difficult?

You left your teary wet sandwich on the coffee table. Walking upstairs to cry in peace. You don't want to give explanations on why, again, you are crying over Pablo.

You lock your room, throw yourself in bed, and let all your feelings out. You were having the cry of your lifetime.

The phone interrupts you. You roll your eyes thinking it was Pablo. When it stops you get up to wash your face.

The ringing is audible again. You decide to check it, an unknown number on the screen. You clear your throat, not wanting to sound sick.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this miss Y/n?"

"Yes, hi. This is me." You take a seat at the corner of the bed.

"Great, I'm Trina from the scholarships department, we got all your paperwork in time. We want to arrange a virtual meeting to talk about all the details, the papers you would sign, the accommodations, and of course the day you can board so you can move in."

You look at the picture in your nightstand, that Polaroid that you and Pablo took when he signed for Barca's first team.

"That's fine. When is the meeting?"

"Is it okay in about two hours? That way, I'll schedule you."

"Yes, thank you."

"Great, I'll send you the link. Me and the dean will see you. I'll send some of the paperwork. You will sign the day you get here, so you can read them with patience. We are so excited to have to in our campus."

"Thank you." You say, hanging up the call.

You hurry to wash your face and get your hair ready. You apply some makeup, straight your hair, and even change your top.

You wait for the meeting, feet impatiently hitting the floor. You are scared to do this. When the alarm you place to join the meeting sounds, you click on the link.

You talk with the dean and Trina, both of them congratulating you on getting into this college. About how happy they are for you to get there.

They explain what your program would be, how it would develop, and what where you can reside. They offer you different options and different plans. They offer you the catalog of classes and extracurricular activities.

"Thank you for this opportunity." You smile at them. "I'm happy to join you."

"We are so happy for your addition to our group. Now I want to ask you, since you told me you had trouble getting a paper. I understand, but the flight time is a little more short now."

You nod, understanding that you would have to leave earlier than it was supposed to in the paper.

"Would it be a problem if we booked your ticket for the end of this month? You would still have twenty days."

You freeze, not thinking it would be this quickly. It was going to be a hard kick for your parents. It was going to be a hard kick for your grandma.

"If it's for the best." You smile. "It's okay by me, sir."

"Fantastic, we will book your tickets, and I'm not promising anything yet, but I think I can get you a special upgrade. You are the best of our candidates, and this would not go unnoticed."

You smile at them, saying your goodbyes. You close your laptop, staring at the little picture of your parents that you have sticked to the wall.

You tear up a little, changing your clothes and taking your makeup off. You feel happy, but you also feel in pain.

You threw the dirty clothes from last night into the laundry basket. You take your shirt, giving it a last smell. It smelled like him.

Him.

You walk to your nightstand and grab the picture. You look at it one last time. Throwing it on the garbage.

You open the door, walking to your parents' room. They are watching the news while getting ready for work. "Hey, I gave to tell you something I did."

"Can this wait, baby?" You dad asks. "I'm kinda late for a meeting. And I know I'm the boss, but I can't be late again."

"I don't think this can wait." You say, making him turn.

He noticed your puffy eyes and red face. "Hey, what's going on?"

"I applied for a scholarship in Boston." You say. "And I got it."

"Baby, that's so good!" You mom says. Hugging you and kissing your face. "We are so proud."

"Thank you." You smile at her. "The thing is, I leave by the end of the month." You sob. "And I won't be back until I graduate."

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

"Why do you always fuck things up?" Aurora asks him. Mad about the things Pablo is telling her.

"I tried to stop her." He shouts from the kitchen. "I thought maybe we could fix things up."

"Pablo, seriously?" She rolls her eyes. "You are so dumb. You humiliate her the night you told her you didn't want anything with her because you liked other girl, then you come around and tell her that you like her since you were a kid."

Pablo can't understand why he even lied to you, to your mom and to everybody about who he was feeling.

His heart aches at the thought of you. It's like after that night all over again. You two are not talking, you two away, you two are just you two.

You are not blending together like you should.

You are you, and he is he.

"I'm calling her." He says.

Aurora is quicker and grabs his phone from his hands, hiding it under her. "Pablo, no." She points at him.

"Why?" He asks mad. "Give me my phone back."

"You have to give her space." She says, getting up and walking to the kitchen with both her phone and his phone in hand. "Also, maybe not a call, but pay her a visit."

"I'm not sure. Maybe I can go right now."

"Pablo, you need to give her space." Aurora grabs his shoulders and sits him at one of the stools. "I know her. Last time it was really hard for her. And I think it's best if you do wait."

He agrees, he will wait. He needs to let you cool down. He asks his mom for advice, he doesn't know what to do with his impatient self.

His mom calls yours, they talk about the whole drama her son created. Your mom tells her honestly that she finds it kind of funny but at the same time has to stand in your line.

Belen understands, she doesn't want you to feel pressed, so she tells Pablo that is the best if he waits for you to feel better.

Your mom doesn't say anything about you leaving. She knows that Pablo would find out anything and would even get into the plane with you.

"Are you ready, princesa?" You dad asks, he is sad that you are leaving.

"Yes, I have everything." You hug him, not wanting to leave.

You know this is the best for you. You need to find yourself and find a meaning for life and for love again.

One that doesn't have a relation with Pablo. One that's brand new. One that's related to your new beginning.

"I'm going to miss you." He whispers. "But mom and I will visit you in your new apartment." He kisses your cheek.

"And I'll wait for that." You smile. "Please don't let me become American." You cry jokingly.

"You won't. We speak Spanish in this house." He jokes.

Your mom and grandma say their goodbyes. Your mom can't be there when you leave. She will run with you to the plane.

"What are you going to do if she gets married with someone from there?" Your grandma asks her. They are waving the last goodbye at you.

"Force that person to come leave here." She jokes.

Your dad is back in around an hour. The house feels weird without you there. Even when you were outside, they were sure you were okay because you were with Pablo.

Now, it's a new type of fear. What if you were with the wrong people? What if you joined something wrong? What if you were afraid of telling them about your mistakes?

"She will be fine." Your grandma says. "She's a good girl." She pat their backs.

The knock on the door alerts them. "Maybe she chicken out in Madrid." Your dad jokes with them, making them laugh. "Coming."

He walks to the door, finding a very impatient Pablo. "Hey, sir. I know you must hate me for everything I've done to your daughter. But I promise I'm here for good." He awkwardly says. "Please just let me talk to her. My mom and sister don't think this is right, but I know that if I don't talk to h-"

"Pablo." You dad interrupts, sighs with sadness for the boy. "She left."

Pablo feels a shiver running down his spine. "Sh-she left?" He laughs. "What?"

"She's gone, buddy." You dad pats his back. "I'm sorry, I wish this would have been different for the two of you."

"She left to go where?" He asks. "I can take a plane there. I can go."

"It's best if you move on, Gavi." He hugs the boy, letting him process what he was told. "We love you, kiddo." He smiles at him. "You are welcome here, come have dinner with us if you want to, anytime. Come sleep here like you used to when you just move out to your new house. Don't be a stranger, you are like our kid." He says.

Pablo nods, hugging him back. He is still in shock.

Where are you?"

> Pablo, you already lost me <

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

"Are you happy?" Your friend asks you.

The graduation ceremony was done. All your classmates and other graduate students are with their families.

"Yes, my dad is here." You say. "Say goodbye to your parents for me." You smile at her.

"I'll see you in Barcelona." She kisses your cheek. "I love you, I'm sure the pain would go away."

"It won't, but I'm working on it." You laugh, making her do it too. "Call me so I can prepare everything for your arrival."

You walk over to your dad. Hugging him. "Look!"

You showed him the diploma, he was so happy for you. Your grandma stayed in Barcelona, she didn't want to spend more than eight hours in a plane.

You take pictures with him. Sending them to the family group and thanking your grandma and aunts for the congratulations.

"Are you sure you don't want to go have dinner?" He asks.

"No, papi." You sigh. "Let's just get something and eat it on the plane."

He understood, helping you with your things and with everything. You just want to sleep and wake up in Barcelona, like you used to.

You wrote a note to the dean and to Trina. They were such a help during the good and bad times. You left it with your friend, making sure she will give it to them.

You arrived at home the next day, tired to do anything or tell anyone. You just wanted to rest in bed.

"Hey, can we go to sevilla to see Grandma?" You ask your dad. He was in his room, undoing this luggage.

"I have a lot of working to do, but I can get you the ticket." He smiles. "Just be careful, please."

"Gracias!" You hug him. "I'll be good."

You unpack your luggage, noticing the other three big ones on the floor. You place everything on the empty closet.

"Hey!" He says. "Mom cleaned that place for you. She knows you like to keep your closet clean."

"Yeah, she knows how much I hate outdated clothes." You joke. "Do you think it's a good idea to take the letter to Belen and Pablo?"

"If that's what you want, I'm sure they would love to read it." He hugs you. "I booked your ticked and texted grandma."

"Grandma can text?"

"Grandma can dm on Instagram." He laughs. "Or that's what Junior says." He says, referring to your cousin. "He sends her reels or something."

You smile at that information. You were so happy to go back to your sevilla home. You spend almost all day arranging your things.

Your flight was supposed to be for the night. You pack a small luggage just in case you need more things.

You pack your mother's letters and other things to take to sevilla. You follow your mother orders, taking the things back to their place.

Yourusername has added to your story

Aurorapaezg: Are you in sevilla for real, or is this another old picture?

Yourusername: I was about to call you, I just got back from Boston. Maybe we can meet at your place!

Aurorapaezg: Siii! My mom is going to be so happy to see you. She misses you like crazy ❤️

Yourusername: Tonight sounds good? I'll take that pie. I know she loves it

Aurorapaezg: Can't wait 🥹✨️

You walk with the pie in your hands, knocking on the door. Pablo Sir opened it, eyes shining when he saw you.

"Muñeca!" He says, smiling. "Get inside. When did you come back? Let me help you with that." He takes the pie out of your hands. "Come inside, they are so happy to see you."

"Gracias." You smile, entering the house. "I'm happy to see you." You hug his side. "I missed you."

You walk inside, Aurora and Belen are fixing something in the kitchen. You went around the counter and poke Aurora.

She yelled in excitement, throwing herself at you. You two jump a little while hugging. When you are done with her, you hug Belen. She hugs you so tight.

"We are so happy to have you back!" She says. "Aurora cried for days when she found out."

"I'm sorry, it was an impulsive decision." You pout. "Honestly, I felt like it wasn't the best, but I enjoyed it."

"Your parents were so proud." Pablo says. "Your mom came for Belen's birthday and told us about your graduation, she showed us pictures of your thesis work."

"Yes, she was so excited." You smile. "Oh, I bring you the pie you like." You smile.

You all ate some food that Aurora prepared. Talking about life and about everything. You told them about your last months in Boston. They told you about their last months.

"How's Pablo?" You ask.

"Oh." Belen says. "He's fine. We spent his birthday here."

"Yes, he's been coming a little bit more." Pablo adds. "You parents saw him the last time they were here."

"They did?" You ask. "Mom didn't mention it."

You shake the thoughts out of your mind. Asking Aurora how her and her boyfriend were. She has this mischievous smile.

"Oh my gosh." You say. "What?" She lifts her hand, showing you her ring. "Aurora!" You jump from excitement, hugging her.

"We want a winter wedding." She says, happy. "I was so happy when you mentioned that you were coming back before winter, because that way you can be on my bridal party."

You nod, hugging her tighter. You can believe the girl you grew up with and played wedding was actually getting married.

You spend the rest of the day with them, talking and sharing stories. Aruroa shared with you some ideas she had, and you two create a pinterest board.

"It was so nice seeing you, Y/n." Belen says. "How long are you staying?"

"I think I'll stay for a little bit, I want to rearrange the house." You say. "Talking about the house, I have something for you."

You grab your bag, searching for the letters. You take a second, deciding if you should give them the one for Pablo or not.

"I have these letters for you." You smile. "Mom wanted me to give them to you. I also have a box for you, Belen."

"Thank you, darling." She hugs you. "Maybe you can bring it and come for dinner tomorrow." She smiles, making your nod.

fcbarcelona has added to their story

"Gavi!" Pedri yells, happy to see his friend. "I thought you were in sevilla."

"Hola, hermano." He hugs him. "I was, but I came back like two days ago."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot that now you have a girlfriend, and you don't spend that much time in Sevilla." He jokes.

Gavi rolls his eyes at Pedri. Since he introduced him to this girl from Canaria, he's obsessed with joking about them being a couple.

"She's not my girlfriend. We are just having a good time."

"Hurry with it, she's worth it." He pats Gavi's back. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, just because she's the best friend of your girlfriend." He laughs. "Bye."

Pablo hates when people introduce him to girls. He has this thing for quick things. Never too serious.

He doesn't want anything for the long run, he just wants to have fun and enjoy life. He makes sure the girls he's hooking up with know this.

You are here for a good time, not for a long time. Enjoy the gifts, the trips, the money he spends on them, but don't get used to it.

Pedri, Fermin, Ansu, and some others tried to get him to date someone, they wanted him to experience what love was.

They wanted him to finally come around his senses that being a fuck boy was not going to be a lifetime thing.

Sure, it was fun, it was exciting, it was cool, but it wasn't the answer. He would want to get serious at some point, and maybe the girl he wants won't be there because who wants a player?

And no, we are not talking about football player, we sure want that, but the kind of player who fucks and dumps. Ew.

"I'm fine by myself." He says every time they talk this idea of dating into him.

Pablo was happy when Aurora told him the news about the engagement. He was over the moon when her boyfriend asked him to be the best man.

He wanted his sister to have the time of her life. He wanted her to be happy and to have all the love in the world.

"I know you told me it wasn't necessary, but I want you to know that I asked my bank for an additional card with your name on it. Just in case you want to expand your budget."

"Pablito, seriously?" She asks, doing something while he is playing on the play station. "I'm grateful for that, thank you."

"Who is on the bridal party?" He asks, curious to see if he knows everybody.

"Well, I have our cousin Paola, I have my friend Karla and Luz." She starts with the names. "I also have someone else, but I'll tell you later."

He just hummed, not fully interested in the whole list, just the people he knows. "So, I know like 5 people."

"I promise it's going to be fun." She smiles. "I'll text you the details for the party we are organizing, we are giving the placements and everything."

"Did you see my calendar?"

"Yes, I used your availability, Pablito. Don't worry." She laughs, making him smile. "I'll call you later, the planner is calling. Love you."

"Love you too, bye."

fcbarcelona has added to their story

"Are you happy to be home, hermano?" Fermin asks. He was happy that he got to spend the weekend with him and his family. "Say hi to your mom and dad for me."

"Maybe after the game, you can tell them yourself." He smiles.

"Any plans for the weekend, boys?" Ferran asks.

"I have my sister's wedding bridal or something party." He smiles. "So I'm busy."

"That means your girl needs to go dress shopping." Pedri tease.

"I don't have a plus one." He says, not caring about bringing her. "Plus, only family and close friends are coming." He smiles.

Pedri rolls his eyes, tires of trying to get Gavi to get serious with one girl. They can't try all their lifes.

"Fermin is going." Ferran says.

"I'm a close friend, idiot." Fermin hits the back of Ferran's head.

"Wow, rude."

Pablo and the other laugh. They can't help but enjoy the little fights between Fermin and Ferran.

Pablo checks the group chat of the party, he checks all the numbers, and finds one that he can't recognize. Who was it?

He likes to keep tabs on who was going and who isn't. That way, he doesn't have to worry about pictures or stupid things online.

He puts that aside, he has a game to win. He finished getting ready and finished his before game routine. He texted his dad to announce to him that they are about to go out.

On the other side of Sevilla, Aurora, and you are fixing some things. You want everything to he perfect for her.

"Are you super sure this looks great?" She asks, placing the box on the table. "I'm so nervous, sorry."

You laugh. "Rora, it's perfect. Don't worry." You massage her shoulders. "Everything will be fine. I promise."

"I want to give you a little something before anybody else." She stands up, walking to the side and grabbing a box. "Open it."

Aurora was asking you to be her maid of honor.

"I've known you since we were babies, i think it makes sense since we used to play wedding and forced my brother to be the groom or the pastor."

"Pablo used to be so mad." You laugh. "Of course I want to be your maid of honor, silly." You say, excited about the whole thing.

"I can't wait for this to happen!"

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

"You should give this to Pablo." You grandma says, lifting the envelope with the letter your mom wrote for Gavi.

"Aurora mentioned that he's coming this weekend." You say, searching for a movie to see with her.

"Oh, look!" She says. "You love this movie."

It was How to lose a guy in 10 days. You haven't seen that movie since the last time you saw it with Gavi.

You smile, selecting that one and watching it with her. You grab your phone, texting Aurora. You asked her when Pablo would be home.

Aurora answers you with a picture of Pablo and his dad watching something. She tells you that he got there earlier than expected.

She also told you that Pablo was going to be alone because she and her parents would go to her grandparents house.

You told her that you would pay him a visit, you need to talk to him and drop something to him. You look at the box and the letter. You sigh, tired.

The movie was good, you loved it. Always did. Your grandma mentioned that she needs to go back home because her novela was about to start.

You drive her, happy that you got to spend time with her like you always did. "See you tomorrow, I'll get the vegetables for the food." You say, waving at her. "Don't forget to tell me about the drama from the novela."

She waves back, you drive back to the old streets you know by heart. You park outside the Páez household. Grabbing the box and the letter.

You take a deep breath, not sure if you can keep the composure around him. You walk to the door, knocking three times.

Pablo opens the door, freezing at the sight of you. "Y/n?" He asks, confused on why you are there. "You are back."

"Hola, Pablo," you smile at him. "Sorry I came unannounced, I was around and Aurora told me you were here."

"Don't worry, please come inside." He smiles at you. Stepping aside for you to enter. "What you have in there?"

You look at your hands. "This is a letter mom left for you, and some things she thinks you might want."

His eyes got sad, and he looks at you, trying to read your sight. "Thank you, I really appreciate you for bringing this."

You feel weird, you haven't talked to him in a while. "How are you?" You ask, trying to break the ice.

"I've been working, trying to keep busy."

"I've seen the games. You are really working hard." You smile at him.

"Hey, do you want a drink?" He asks, trying for you to stay. "We have that drink you love."

You know they do, Belen bought it for you.

"Sure, thank you."

You follow him to the kitchen, you noticed his hair has the small locks you love. His tank top showing his arms, they are bigger.

You can smell his common baby smell, he loves to wear that baby lotion your grandma once gave him for Christmas.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, handing you the glass. "I'm making dinner."

"I'm not feeling like getting poisoned." You joke.

He opens his mouth. "Perdón?" He scuffs. "I'm not the one who burns rice."

"That was once, and it was your fault." You laugh.

"Yeah, blame me." He laughs, shaking his head.

He looks at you, smiling at the old times. You look so good, with your hair up, your rosey cheeks and your perfume. That fucking perfume.

"I've missed you." He confess. "How was Boston?"

You look at him confused. "You knew where I was?"

"Your dad told me at the funeral, I asked about you because you weren't there. He said that there was a snowstorm."

You don't want to cry. You just shake your head. "It was a mess." You laugh, trying to keep the tears away. "But answering you, it was fun, I made a lit of friends."

He wants to hug you, but he doesn't know if you would want that. He can tell you needed it. "I like your shirt." He says, trying to distract you.

You sniff. "Thank you, it's an old shirt I found at my closet here."

"I know, it's mine." He smirks.

You take a look at it. "It's mine now." You joke.

He can't help but notice how you don't hold your sight like you used to do. You were someone who likes to look in the eyes.

At least into his.

"Can I ask you something?" He asks.

You nod, trying to look at him but always breaking eye contact to look away.

"Can I give you a hug?" He half smiles. You nod, stepping closer to him.

He wraps his arms around you, you hide your head on his neck. He tighten his grip once he hears you sobbing.

"I'm sorry, I just really needed this." You say, laughing a little to not keep crying.

"It's okay, preciosa." He combs your hair with his fingers. "I'm sorry this happened to you. Me and my family are here for you."

You pull after a while, thanking him for the hug. "I missed you too." You confess. "I actually went to the game in New York last year." You smile.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you were maybe mad at me, and I wasn't ready to reconnect with people from Spain." You say, honestly. "I was hurt and mad at everyone."

"It's okay, I get what you are saying." He smiles.

You two sit and talk for a while, he tells you about how he's on the run for being a captain at the club for the season.

You listen to him talk about the club, how happy he looks, and how his training is a little bit exhausting but they are working for him.

"Are you going back to Barcelona?" He asks. "I'm leaving in three days. You can come with me." He says, hopeful that maybe you two can reconnect.

"I think I'll stay for a little here." You confess. "Dad is busy and being home alone is not good for me."

He nods, understanding. He takes the dirty dishes and placing them on the sink. You offer to clean them but he refused.

You tell him that you were leaving and he walks with you to the door. "Thank you for the talk and the hug. It was a need for me." You smile.

You quickly hug him goodbye. Walking to your car. You were about to step on the street when you heard him call your name.

"Yes?" You ask, turning back to him.

"Can I see you again?" He asks, hopeful that you might want it. "Maybe when you are back in Barcelona."

You nod, knowing that it was something good for you. "I'll ask Aurora for your number." You say. "That way, when I'm back, we can see each other."

He nods, waving goodbye at you. He smiles once he closes the door. Thinking about getting to be close to you again.

When he's back in the kitchen, he notices the box and the letter. He sighs, he takes them to his room.

He opens the box, the first thing he sees is that Polaroid you had, the two of you smiling and grabbing his first team jersey.

He finds all kinds of things. That makes him smile a lot. He can't help but feel nostalgia. He misses your mom a lot.

At the bottom of the box, there's a lot of envelopes and a sticky note attached to them. Asking him to read the letter first and then he would understand what the envelopes are for.

Your mom left you a lot of letters for when you were going to different phases of your life. Leaving Pablo to be the messenger that needed to give you each of it when the right time comes.

> I know you two aren't in the best place, but I trust you, Pablo. I know you want her back, and you will fight for it.

Don't hurt her again. Take care of her for me. <

He will.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

You stayed more than you think in Sevilla, you wanted to do a lot of things that you can't do in five days.

Your grandma loved having you close again. She would visit you at your parents' house, take meals for you, have movie nights with you.

Also it was a good thing that you were there, Aurora and you were giving so much fun planning her wedding.

Belen and you even planned with her a bridal trip with her friends. Her soon to be husband also was having a groom trip with his friends and his side of the bridal party.

So, it made sense that you combined the two parties. It was going to be a fun experience. Belen was staying home since she mentioned that she wanted to give you privacy.

You found out that Pablo was going to he the best man, you laugh at how he didn't know that you were the maid of honor.

"Okay, I have everything." You showed her the house you booked, the places you planned to go to and everything else.

"Thank you for helping me with everything!" She kisses your cheeks. "You are the best."

"Calm down, amiga." You laugh. "I'm going home, we have to pack because we are leaving tonight. Remember."

You left the Páez household, driving calmly when a phone call stops your Playlist.

"Pablo"

You smile, accepting the call. "Hello, this is McDonald's. What can we get for you?" You joke with him.

"I want a big tasty with extra extra extra bacon, extra sauce, and an extra big sprite." He laughs. "Also, may I speak with the maid of honor that sent me that invite for tomorrow?"

"That would be me, Mister Gavi." You smile.

You texted Pablo one night, you needed someone to talk to. He then never stopped texting you. Every morning and every night asking if you are okay, asking if you are resting, sleeping well, if you need something.

It was healing you in some way. It also made your dad less worried about you. You told him that Pablo and you reconnected and that you were just texting but it was helping you.

"I was thinking, maybe we can go out to eat after lading."

You think about it. You want Gavi back into your life, but you are not sure if you want it in a romantic way, more like the friend you trusted.

"What if we see if we are not too tired." You say. Parking the car in your garage. "Deal?"

"I'll take that." He laughs. "Text me when you are at the house."

"Bye." You say, hanging the call.

You enter your home, finish packing your things. You have a kind of established dress code that you and the other girl agreed to.

You pack some extra things. Ibiza was going to be fun for you. It was going to be relaxing.

yourusername has added to your story

You were having so much fun with the girls. Aurora, the girls and you were at this club that you booked.

You wanted to not drink that much, but after the first five rounds, you just let it go.

"I'm having a lot of fun." You say to Aurora.

"Me too, this is so fun."

You order a new round of drinks, "I'll go to the bathroom and be back." You announce.

Your phone was vibrating, making you take it out of your pocket. The caller ID showing Pablo's name.

"Holaaa" you say, extending the a.

"You are drunk." He laughs. "The boys wanted to meet you at the club, and apparently, the burst mand and maid of honor has to agree to do it."

"Oh, we are at this club, and we are having so much fun." You laugh. "Let me send you the address."

You text him where you are, and you are also sharing your location with him.

"Got it, preciosa." He says, happy tone. "We are drinking too."

"That fun. See you here." You say, hanging up.

After the bathroom, you got back to your friends. You noticed that the girls were doing shots.

"You didn't wait for me." You pout.

"We did. Here's your two shots." Franchesca says. Having you the shots.

You drank them, feeling them tasteless, like water. That's a dangerous zone. You feel a poke to your side. Turning to see Pablo and the boys.

"Hola." You smile at him. "Just in time, we are doing shots."

He grabs your waist, noticing how drunk you are.

"Take a shot with me, please." You smile at him. "Let's all take a shot." You say, ordering the shots.

You not only drink one round, more like five rounds. You grab your phone, texting your dad a picture that you took before going to the club.

Just for him to feel peace that you are safe.

"What are you doing?" Pablo asks, arms around your waist. He places his head on your shoulder. "You smell so good." He says in your ear, kissing your earlobe.

"I'm taxing my dad." You say, showing him the text. "He can sleep better if he doesn't know we are here." You laugh.

You are drunk, maybe too drunk.

"Let's drink more." You yell.

You were about to free yourself, but his hands are locking you in place.

"What if we take some water?" He asks.

"Water?" You laugh. "Don't be boring, Martin." You laugh. "Tequila looks like water, so tequila would be."

He doesn't free you from his hold. He needs to take care of you, he made a promise yo himself to do so.

"Pablo, let me go." You say, grabbing his arms. "What are you doing?"

"I just want you to take this easy. We still have time, and let's not black out."

"What if I want to black out?" You ask. "What if I just want to enjoy and not feel like trash?"

He's taken aback by this comment. He doesn't understand where that comes from. "What?"

"Let me go." You say, trying to get out of his hold. "I'm having fun, let me have fun." You start to hyperventilate. "I just want to have fun, please let me go."

"Hey, calm down." He says, letting you go and standing in front of you. "It's okay, we can go get another round."

He tries to grab your hands, but you back off. You shake your head, turning to the rail. You feel like throwing up.

You can see the beach from where you are. You search for the stairs with your head. Walking to it.

"Hey, careful." He says, grabbing your arm as you walk to the beach.

You drag him to the edge of the water. You free yourself from his hold, taking your heels off, and walking into the water. Pablo alarms, taking his shoes off and joining you.

"Leave me alone, Pablo." You tell him, pushing him away. "Just go back and have fun." You sat down, water level to your breast. You try not to cry, taking deep breaths. "Just leave me alone."

"Im not leaving." He says, taking a seat with you.

You shake your head no, crying into your hands. "I just want to be alone." You say. "Please, leave me alone."

He moves places, kneeling in front of you. "Come here." He says, arms opening. You cry into his arms.

He doesn't understand what he did or if it was his fault. Maybe the drinks, maybe what he says, maybe both.

"Talk to me." He says.

You separate, looking into his eyes. "I just," you sob. "I feel this pain since she left. And I can't help but think that maybe this would never go away." You sob.

"Amor, look at me." He asks. You shake your head no. He grabs your chin, making you look at him. "It's okay to feel that way. You need to mourn your feelings. You lost someone really important, and it will take a lot of time for you to feel a little bit of the way you felt before. Okay?"

You nod, tearing up.

"One day at the time." He says. Kissing your cheek, his hands on your arms, caressing them.

You grab his cheeks in your hands, the wet feeling making him shiver. You caress his cheeks.

"You are okay, I'm here."

You smash your lips on his. Needing a little more. Pablo places his hands on your unclothed back.

The taste of alcohol in each others mouths feels good, the tonge fight and the small whines you let go are an scene.

"You are drunk," Pablo says, breathless. "This is wrong." He whispers before going back to you. You two kissed again, it was wrong, but it felt good. "We need to stop." He says.

"I don't want to stop, Gavi." You whisper to him. Pecking him. He pulls away from your hold. Leaving you confused. "What are you doing?"

"I can't." He laughs sarcastically. "If I don't stop now, I won't be able to stop later. And you are drunk, we can't." He sits next to you.

You nod, feeling a little sad that you were rejected. You stayed there, sitting next to him. Your head resting on his shoulder.

"I want to throw up." You say. Turning and crawling back to the edge. Not wanting to throw up in the water.

Gavi sighs, smiling a little at how funny you look. "Let me grab your hair." He hurries to your side.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

You were relaxed at your house in Barcelona. Helping your dad with throwing things that are unnecessary to keep.

You hear the doorbell, placing the things you have on your hands in the box that you place on the floor.

You walk to the door, finding gavi on the other side. He has a bag with your favorite the name of your restaurant.

"I have dinner." He smiles. "You dad told me he was on a work trip. And I made myself the responsible one for your dinner."

You smile at him. This was an ongoing thing, Pablo has been coming to see you since you came back from Sevilla.

He drives you to therapy, he visits you after training, before training. Takes you to his games.

He's your hip and thigh at this point. Always by your side. You were thankful to him for that. Your dad thanked him for doing that.

Knowing that you needed help from someone else but him. Grateful that you were feeling better and looking better.

You help him serve the food in plates. Sharing half and half. You serve two glasses of wine. You loved pasta and wine.

"If you can pick between going to space or going to hell, which one?" You ask out of nowhere.

"Amor, what the fuck?" He laughs.

He has these nicknames he calls you. You grow used to them, letting him use them on you.

"Pick one." You smile.

"Maybe space." He thinks. "Yeah, space."

You keep doing this game for a while, laughing at each others answers. You enjoy times like this.

You wash the dishes, and he dries them. A team work. "Hey, do you want to see a movie in my room?" You ask, leaving the dishes in their place.

You grab your glass of wine. Refiling it, doing the same with his. You walk upstairs with him. Hand in hand, as if he doesn't know the way.

"What do you wanna see?" You say, laying in bed.

He grabs the remote from the nightstand, turning your tv on and walking to the door, turning the lights off.

"What do you." He points at you. "Wanna see?" He smiles.

"Avengers." You whisper, knowing he loves Marvel.

He smiles, scrunching his nose. "I was thinking about that movie." He says, happy. He walks up to you. He bows down to you, lips kissing your cheeks. "You read my mind."

You grab his cheeks. "I did." You smile at him. "I'm a mind reader." You joke.

He laughs, his hands resting on the mattress on each side of you. He places his head on the crock of your neck.

"If you are, tell me what I'm thinking." He says, kissing your neck. "Let's see if you get it right."

You think for a few seconds. His breath on your neck is making you giggle. "You are thinking about food." You say, jokingly.

"Oh no!" He says, worried look. "You got it right, you are a mind reader." He laughs against your skin.

You hug him, making him fall on top of you. You kiss his head. Loving the warm feeling of his body on top of yours.

"I love you." You say to him. "Thank you for being here."

You were honest with him. Without him, you would've been the same mess you were before the chat at the beach.

"I love you." He repeats, nose bumping with yours. You look at him, the smile he has is adorable, the way his eyes are shining too.

You grab his cheek, caressing his skin. "Kiss me." You whisper to him.

He doesn't waste a second. Lips on top of yours. You taste him, drunk into his arms and his presence.

You can get used to that feeling, you can get used to the warmth. You moan into his lips. Your hands move to find the hem of his shirt.

You separate from the kiss, pulling his shirt off of him. He takes it off, not waiting a second to go back into the kiss.

His hand finds his way under your shirt and to your boob, taking it into his mercy. You throw your head back, giving him access to your neck.

"Can I take this off?" He asks between kisses to your neck, making sure you are okay with what's about to happen.

"Si, solo no pares." You moan.

He takes the piece of clothes, lips finding the valley of your breasts while his hands hold your sides.

"Pablo" you moan his name, grabbing his hair. You can't help but bring him closer to you.

He moves back to your lips, giving you the opportunity to reach his shorts. You separate for him, looking into his eyes.

"Do you want this?" He asks, making you nod. "No, say it. I need to hear it from you."

"Si." You say desperately. "Please do it."

He smiles, kissing you again. You pull his shorts down. He helps you by kicking them. His hands search your back, undoing your bra and throwing it to the side.

He kneels up to the bed, grabbing the hem of your shorts and pulling them down. You grab the hem of his boxers, doing the same.

"You are not going to stop, verdad?" You ask him. Pupils dilated from desire.

"No, amor." He says, looking at you. He pecks the line of your jawline to your lips. "I'm not stopping." He kisses you. "Nobody's interrupting us." He kisses you again. "We are sober." Kiss again. "And I'm going to take care of you, like you deserve."

He takes the hem of your panties and pulls them off. Leaving you naked in font of him. He balls them in his hand as he takes a look at you completely.

He throws the underwear to the side before getting back on top of you, lips finding your one more time.

He holds himself up on with one arm while one of his hands goes down between your legs and starts playing with your center, making you moan into his lips before they move down to your neck.

“You are so perfect,” he grasped before getting on his knees again and spreading your legs wider, his head burying between your thighs. He wants to make sure you enjoy everything.

The noises coming from him were dirty and only made you want him even more. Your hands on his hair, pulling it lightly.

He grabs your waist, making you stay still. You fall into bed. Eyes unable to open from the pleasure he's making you feel.

It doesn't take you long to reach your high. He finds your moans and little growls as motivation. It's really hard for him not to cum just by the look of you.

He gets close to your face, kissing you to make you taste yourself. You separate, biting your lip while looking at him.

“Let me take care of you now,” you moaned, trying to reach for him, but he stopped you. Shaking his head.

“No, amor. I’m not done with you yet.” he says, his deep tone making you bite the inside of your cheek. “Tonight it's all about you."

pablogavi has added to his close friends

"What are you drawing?" You ask him.

He organized this little activity in his house. He bought everything to paint while you two enjoy some Moscato.

"I'm painting you." He smiles. "Or at least I'll try." You laugh at that, making him smile.

"I'm painting a sunset." You say, grabbing the orange and red.

You listen to the music in the background, using the time to paint. He looks at you from time to time, trying to act as if he's drawing your features.

"I'm done." He says, hands up like in those cooking shows.

"Was this a competition?" You laugh. "I thought this was a relaxing activity."

"I won." He smirks. "Let's call it a night." He jokes, standing and walking around the table to you.

"Amor, sientate." You laugh.

He hugs you, making you stop with your paint. "You are so talented, mi vida." He kisses your cheeks.

You turn your head, kissing his lips. "Show me your art, Picasso." He nods, stretching to grab his paint. You laugh at the sight of it. "Pablo, that's a stick person in the park."

"It's high class art, amor." He jokes. "Look at the sun in the corner."

"You draw a smiley face to the sun." You say, taking your phone and snapping a picture of him.

You left your paint, getting up and hugging him. You loved this time with him. How hard he proved himself to you.

"I can't believe my sister's getting married this weekend."

"I know, so crazy." You say, thinking about it.

"Let's go upstairs to watch out show." He suggests, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the stairs.

You go to his room. Taking your shoes off, you grab your favorite blanket. He grabs his blanket, placing it next to you.

"I'll just use the bathroom." He stands up, grabbing the remote and handing it to you. "I'll be right back."

You nod, connecting your phone to his charger. You press the on button on the remote, it was not working.

"Amor, your remote is dead." You say, louder for him to hear.

"There's batteries on the nightstand to the left." He shouts from the bathroom.

You sigh, moving to find them. You open the nightstand, finding a mess. "Ughh, seriously?" You whisper to yourself.

You open it completely. Eyes focusing on the stack of envelopes that he has at the end of the drawer.

But what really calls your attention is the note sticked to the one on top. That's your mother's handwriting.

You take them, noticing that the fist envelope was the letter she left for him. You read the sticky note. It was an instruction to read the letter first to understand what the envelopes are for.

"What are you doing?" He says, taking them out of your hands.

You look at him, confused on why he has those envelopes and why your mother left them yo him.

"What is that?" You whisper.

"Nothing, did you find the batteries?" He walks away with the stack. Trying to get it out of your reach.

"Pablo, what is that?" You ask again.

"I said nothing." He says, tone more stern.

"Don't lie to me." You warn him. "What is that?"

He sighs, not wanting for you to find about this like that. He turns, noticing your glossy eyes and accelerated breathing.

"Your mom left this for you." He confess. "They all are for different moment, she thought that I was the one who should give them to you as the time comes."

"Can I read them?" You stand up, walking to him.

He shakes his head no, taking a few steps back. "She instructed me with how and when I should give them to you."

"That's stupid. Let me read them." You try to take them out of his hands. "Pablo!"

"I can't." He says. "This is the last thing your mother asked me to do, and I will do it like she wants."

You shake your head. Feeling the tears fill your eyes. "Just one." You cry. "Please."

He wants to hand them to you. He wants you to stop crying by the thought of them. But he made a promise to himself to follow the instructions like he was asked to do.

"Amor, please don't cry."

"Don't call me that." You say.

You weren't thinking rationally. You wanted him to hand you the envelopes. You don't care if he has instructions.

"Y/n." He sighs. "Let's talk."

"No!" You shout. "Just give me one. She won't be mad." You walk over to him, trying one more time to get your hands on them.

But he's not having it. He turns, making you impossible to reach. You grab his shirt, pulling it lightly.

"Don't do this to me." You sob. "Just let me read a little, I don't have to read it all." You cry. "Pablo, please."

You fall on the floor, crying while you hug his legs. He's breaking his own heart by denying you access to them.

"I'm sorry." He says, kneeling to where you are. "I can't."

You look up to him. Frowning mad at him. You feel rage. Maybe not at him, but taking it out on him anyway.

"Fuck you then." You spat. "Keep them all, I don't need them." You get up.

You walk over to where your phone is, disconnecting it to the power. You turn to him, still kneeling on the floor.

You walk to the exit about to get out of the room. You stop at the door, sobbing. "Pablo." You call for him, turning to see him. "Just one."

You can see his eyes filling with tears. He can't break his promise, not after breaking all the ones he made to her when she was still alive.

"I love you, but I can't."

You nod, walking out of the room.

Pablo hears his front door slaming shut. He cries into his hand. He can't help but feel guilty for doing that.

You drove home. Rushing to get to your father. You park horribly and run inside your house. "Dad." You yell.

His car was outside, so he has to be there. You run upstairs, opening his bedroom door. You find him watching a golf game.

"Did you knew about the letters mom left?"

He blinks, not even surprised. He turns the tv off. "Goodnight to you too, kiddo."

"Stop!" You order him. "Answer."

He sighs, knowing this was coming sooner or later. "I did." He smiles at you. "And let me guess, Pablo didn't hand them to you."

"What?"

"She informed me about the letters, and she packed them in the box she left for him. I told her it was best if I kept them, but she knew I would hand them to you if you asked me that."

He walks to his closet, making you a sign to follow him. He grabs his keys and opens the locked drawer he has.

He takes an envelope. "So she left me with this, for when you find out about the others and didn't get to have them."

You rip the letter from his hand. Reading the back of it.

> The explanation you need <

You look at him. He nods, pushing you to the exit, you needed to be alone for what's coming.

aurorapaezg has added to her story

"Oh no!" Aurora says. Looking into her things like crazy. "Y/n!"

"What's wrong?"

"I forgot the vows, I thought I packed them inside. What am I going to do?"

"Hey, relax." You grab her by the shoulders. "Where are they? I can pick them up."

"They are home, but I'm not ready yet, and I still have th-"

"Rora, I'm picking them up." You smile at her. "I'm the maid of honor, I am ready, I can do it."

"Are you sure?" She asks, glossy eyes.

"I'm already on the way." You laugh, grabbing you car keys and your purse. "Let's pray my hair stays intact."

You make her laugh, you wave goodbye at her. You hurry to her house, not wanting to spend much time outside in case she needs anything else.

The ceremony was in a few hours. So you have time to go there and back. Not having to worry about being late.

You knocked on the door, and she told you there was someone in the house. You were on your phone, waiting for the door to be open.

Gavi feels his breath pause, the way your black flower dress looks on you. He can't help but smile at the look of you.

You lift your head, finding his honey eyes sticked on you. "Pablo, hello." You smile. Your soft voice is making him smile even more.

"Hi." It's all he can say.

You don't want to make it awkward, but you can't take your eyes off of him. He feels uncomfortable. He doesn't like to be mad at your or you to be mad at him.

"I'm sorr-" He tries to say, getting interrupted by you.

"I'm here for the vows." You say. Not wanting to talk about it.

"Oh yes, the vows, get in." He steps aside for you. He guides you to the living room. He hands you the little box with them.

You text a picture to Aurora. Making her know you have them and that you'll be there with her as soon as possible.

You turn to Pablo, he's trying to get his blazer and tie to work. "Do you need help?" You ask, noticing how he looks a little frustrated.

"Por favor." He sighs, tired of trying.

You leave your purse and the box down on the table next to you. Getting closer to him, you turn him to face the mirror that is on the living room.

You fix the neck of the blazer, lining it up with the neck of his shirt. He shivers with the contact, inhaling the smell of your perfume.

"You changed your perfume." He whispers.

You smile at that, he noticed. "I did, it's good to have a change."

You grab his arms, fixing the blazer and the shirt down it. You grab his hands while fixing the rest of the arm.

Pablo can't help but squish your hand. It's like he's trying to prove that you are there and not another dream of his.

You smile at his actions. "Just the tie left." You grab the tie, putting it around his neck.

You have a flashback. Having him so close to you isn't really helping. The way his hands pose around your waist, fingers tapping on your hips.

Pablo's eyes are locked into yours, his hands are now on your back and side. He's moving them, tapping his fingers around.

You try to hurry. Feeling like you might faint if you don't. "And we are done." You smile at him. "Your hair is a little lighter, or is it me?"

You laugh, trying to get composure. He just smiles. You look at his hair in the mirror and then turned back to him.

You fix his hair, the feeling of his eyes on you, it's burning. "That's better." You smile at him. "Want me to give you a ride?"

"Please." He whispers, lost into all of you.

You turn to the table, grabbing your things and the box. You wait for him to follow you to your car.

He closes the door, following you to your car. "Not this car." He laughs. "I thought you left the obsession for this car back in our teenage years."

"It's new and it's cute, also it has a strawberry smell." You frown. "So get in or go im an Uber." You unlock the door, smiling at him as you enter your seat.

Pablo chuckles, entering the car. The drive was silent, but not an uncomfortable silence. It's more like enjoying your company in silence kind of thing.

When you get there. You don't know why, but you wait for him to get out. You need some time for yourself before going in there and act all happy.

"You coming?" He asks, knocking on your window.

"Si, I just need a minute." You saw, lowering the window and trying to act normal.

He looks at you, noticing your sad eyes. "Are you okay?"

You smile, the only person you can't lie to it's him. "Yes, just fixing my makeup and I'll be there. Take this to Aurora."

You see him walk away. You take a few deep breaths, acting up was no getting you nowhere and you know it.

You walk to the venue, happy face when you see Aurora. She is talking with Pablo.

"Hey, thank you for picking the vows and my brother." She hugs you. "Always a life saver."

"Don't thank me, that what the maid of honor has to do." You smile. "But let's go!"

The ceremony went well. You can't help but feel nostalgic. Your mothers always helped you two play wedding as kids.

Your parents making fun of Pablo for being the only boy and being forced to marry you or to officiate the wedding between the two of you when you couldn't find another boy to play.

You can't forget how your mom and Belen would talk about the special day of their daughters. Saying what your dresses might look like, the flowers.

Now it's a reality for her.

The dinner party was fun. Aurora was having the fun of her life. You looked at her from the distance, not feeling like dancing.

You walk outside the venue, the garden is majestic, all the roses, the smell. It's paradise. You sit on the bench, looking at the butterflies that roam around the garden.

You were lost in your thoughts, but you feel someone sitting next to you. You don't need to turn your face to see who it is, the smell of his cologne already telling you.

"Want a drink?" Pablo asks, leaving the glass with liquor next to you.

"Gracias." You smile.

He stays quiet for a moment, waiting for you to say something or to ask him to leave. "Are you ready to talk?"

You nod, thinking about what you want to say. "I'm sorry I treated you that way. I was out of my mind and not really mad at you. I just needed to let go of my range."

He grabs your hand, squishing it yo give your courage. You smile at his little action. Finding it very comforting.

"Turns out she not only left those to you, but one more with my dad. She knew you would say no and that I would want an explanation."

You laugh at how comical it sounds. Pablo smiles at your reaction, finding it a little more calming than he was expecting.

"And in that letter, she asked me not to be mad at you." You turn to him. "She asked me to take care of you, that you need me as much as I need you."

You make a pause, not feeling like crying. You turn back to your original position. You can't look into his eyes.

"I don't want to cry," you say, thinking about everything that you are feeling. "Tell me about something else, please."

He tries to think of something to say, a topic to keep your mind away from all the commotion you are feeling inside. He then thinks about football.

"With the team, we won la Liga with this last game, and we think we can get the champions."

"Keep dreaming." You joke. "Maybe if number six works harder, you can have a chance."

"Si, but number six doesn't want to work harder." He follows along with your joke. "He's lazy."

"Always have been." You laugh, shoulder hitting his. "You drink liquor now? What happened to cheap beer?" You tease him.

"I never drank cheap beer. That was Fermin and the rest." He laughs.

"True." You chuckle.

You just stayed quiet after that. You drank the liquid in your glass as a shot.

"Let's go back inside." You stand. "Aurora will get worried."

He grabs your hand, making you turn. "You don't have to be strong all the time." He grabs your face with his hands. "And I know I'm going to make big promises, but it's all real. You have me, always did, always will." Your eyes fill with tears. You nod, hugging him. "It's okay, I'm here now. And I won't let you leave ever again." He says, kissing your shoulder. "I'm here, princesa. I'm always here."

You cry into him. His arms tighten the grip, making sure you know he's there for you. You stayed like that until you felt better.

"I have an idea." He says, pulling away to see your face. Thumbs drying your tears. "Let's go to dance." He smiles. "We need to let all the worries away."

You smile at him, nodding your head. You grab his hand and take a step to the side for him to lead the way.

"Pablo." You call, pulling him by the arm.

He turns to you, the feeling of your lips on his, surprising him. His hands go to your waist and neck. Pulling you closer. You grab his face, not wanting to let go.

The kiss is what you always expected it to be. It's sweet and delicate. It's the kiss that would seat the deal.

After all the kisses you shared, you can say this is your favorite one. Because both of you accepted your feelings. It was the perfect one.

You separate, needing air. His forehead sticks with yours. He pulls to kiss your forehead and then peck your lips.

You close your eyes, enjoying having him so close. Finally knowing he was your and you were his.

pablogavi has added to his story

"Are you ready to go home?" He asks you. Grabbing your hand and kissing it.

Pablo was having games every three days, he loves having you there as a support. He loves having his personal cheerleader back.

"That jersey looks amazing on you." He makes you turn.

"Oh God!" You laugh. "That's going to make me nauseous." You grab his arms. He hugs you, making you walk on reverse while he laughs at you. "Pablo, stop!" You laugh.

"Wanna get some food?" He asks, thinking about all the food options. "Are you craving something?" He asks, eyes on your belly.

"Actually, Aurora called me. She wants us to meet her at home. She wants us to have a few drinks with her and her husband."

"Talking about drinks, Pedri actually invited us to a barbecue tomorrow. He asked me to bring the drinks."

You laugh at the coincidence. You two were the professional drink makers of the team, so it was easy to ask you to bring the drinks.

"I feel like it's time to tell them." You hug his waist, kissing his neck. "It's about time they find out. Aurora is getting suspicious. And I can't keep making excuses about why I'm not drinking." You laugh.

He thinks for a moment, looking at you with a pout. "Let her keep guessing." He kisses the side of your head, placing his hands on your belly. "Let's keep enjoying a little bit more by ourselves." He smiles.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

🏷️: @htpssgavi @rikfkf @gadriezmannsgirl @coco657 @cinderellawithashoe @pabl0andm3 @vscabarca @alexis1taylorr @anythingforourjoonie @nightmoon22 @cececarmona @thefhost1345 @sad1lynn @abiigaiil1234

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART 8.5 (JOEL'S POV)

previous chapters | so after the last chapter there were SO many people who really wanted to understand joel's actions, and i thought instead of him simply explaining to reader what happened, why don't i just write a chapter entirely from his point of view instead? hopefully this answers some questions, enjoy! and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 chapter summary: you're not the only one who has a busy weekend ahead of them. one text changes the trajectory of joel's relationship with you - for better or worse. (this is essentially chapter seven and eight from joel's pov) rating: 18+ explicit warnings for this chapter: age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), innocent/inexperienced reader, discussions of child abandonment, mental health & cheating, alcohol, allusions to past sexual encounters between joel and his ex, brief flashbacks to smut from previous chapters word count: 13k ao3

He thinks about you so much more often than he should.

Your soft skin, your smile, your eyes, your hair, your little giggles, your shy and breathless whimpers.... your body, pliant and sweet beneath his touch, open and willing and waiting.

You're so perfect. You're so young.

He's never been with someone so much younger than him before. He's not sure you realize that. But that day on his doorstep when you'd wandered down the sidewalk looking like a bit of a lost puppy, that little frown line prominent between your eyebrows that he's come to adore, something clicked. You brought out a side of him he'd long since buried; he knew he had to have you. He just knew. Could feel it in the pit of his stomach when those gorgeous eyes had come to rest on him. Wide and innocent and sad. Something he saw there that made him pause.

He'd have had you that day if you'd let him, a fact that he's still grappling with. Long gone are the days where he'd meet a woman and take her home within a twenty four hour span - long gone are the days where he's so much as been interested in a woman he didn't know well enough, someone safe and secure and familiar. But he hoped you'd be back, almost knew you would, could see it in the way you shivered under his gaze, the way your eyes lingered on his face, on his fingers. He hadn't felt like being charming in a long time; he'd genuinely surprised himself with the flirtatious comments, the sly smiles, double meanings. But he couldn't help himself.

He'd wanted you so bad. The moment you'd disappeared down the street he'd gotten in the shower and fucked his fist for only a few minutes before coming all over the tiled wall at the very thought of you. He didn't even know your name but had already memorized the curves of your body, the shape of your lips, the smell of your skin when he'd gotten close enough. He'd practically limped back to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed in a heap, staring up at the ceiling with nothing but shock and confusion. Where the fuck had that come from?

He's such a dirty old man.

Old being the operative word. He turns fifty seven in a few months and the thought makes him feel physically ill. It's not that he necessarily hates the thought of getting older, of being one step closer to knocking on death's door, but more-so the fact that he's almost fifty seven and has almost nothing to show for it. His life is a mess, has been a mess for as long as he can remember.

But now... you.

You... full of life and eagerness and kindness. A soft and gentle angel in his bed, on his couch, in his kitchen. So shy and quiet, telling him what you think about, what you worry about. Letting him whisper the filthiest things in your ear while you whimper and moan, letting him touch you the way you deserve to be touched, the way you've never been touched before.

You bring something out in him he can't explain. He'd invited you inside that first day looking for a quick fuck and he admits it was a moment of weakness, the whole thing. He knows Sarah and Mish would kill him for even considering treating you that way, like an object, something to be conquered. The past version of himself who briefly felt that way about you makes him angry now.

Because now he really wants you. Not just a fuck - he wants you. He thinks about you all the fucking time and it scares the shit out of him. What started as something dirty and frivolous quickly turned into something tender and sweet the moment you told him you were a virgin, and he doesn't know how to handle it. You're so fucking lovely but so fucking sad and unsure, full of apprehension, regrets, insecurities, things he sees in himself. You remind him so much of himself at that age and he just wants to take care of you, be the person for you that he didn't have.

But you're so fucking young.

He tries to push the feelings down. He's purposely distant to you, especially during the week. You send him sweet little messages, tell him about your day, ask him about his. He stares at them for so long without answering them, and when he does answer his replies are short and vague. Because how can he say what he really wants to say? I think about you so much, angel. I want you to be mine. I don't want you to chase after any college boys or have any college boys chasin' after you. I wanna be your first and I wanna be your only.

How can he put you in that position? You're having fun, you're learning things, but there's absolutely no way you see any sort of future with him. The fact that he can already see one with you is the biggest red flag in itself - what the fuck is wrong with him?

But you're just so fucking sweet. So lovely. So gorgeous. He wants you in his bed and he wants you to stay there. He knows he'll be the first person to ever fuck you and that thought is enough to keep him going, yet he can't help but want more. But it's so selfish - you're young and bright-eyed and pretty and perfect, the promise of an incredible future ahead of you. And he's just... him.

He's old. He's grumpy. He's washed up. Became a father in high school. Got married. Got divorced. Has had more failed relationships than successful ones. Has been working the same job since he was twenty years old, a job he fucking hates. Loathes it with his entire being. Still doing the same work for the majority of his life with almost no breaks, no stops. He knows he should retire, should have done it years ago, but he's afraid.

He's always been fucking terrified of change. Earlier this year he'd moved into a new neighborhood. He'd gotten sick of the house he'd once shared with Mish, then Mish and Sarah, then just Sarah - the one she'd lived in sporadically 'til she was twenty six and finally felt financially stable enough to go out on her own. He'd stayed there about ten more years out of convenience, had another failed relationship with a woman who deserved far better than what he could give her, then finally pulled the plug and got something new for himself a few hours away, hoping it'd change his perspective. He'd picked a place with privacy, good acoustics, thought maybe he'd play his guitar more - focus on his music and slowly phase himself out of the contracting business.

But months later, he's still working it. The thought of being unemployed after working this hard his entire life, just ending up sad and alone in this new house, still not even properly furnished or decorated, makes him want to throw up. What the fuck would he do with all that free time? He's always wondered exactly how he'd spend it, how life could be enjoyable without the structure of his livelihood, but then he shakes it off and just keeps going because he knows the alternative has to be worse. But now... you.

You - who if you truly knew what a fucking failure he is, the boring bag of bones he pretends he's not when he's with you - would leave his bed and never come back.

You - who if you found out about his ex wife, his daughter, both of whom live adventurous and exciting lives while he's done nothing but stay still in the comforts of familiarity - would probably find him beyond pathetic.

You - who can do so much better.

He just knows that it can't last.

--

He gets the text from Sarah on Wednesday morning:

Hey Dad!! Me and Mom are doing our annual road trip, thought we'd stop down there for a bit and have a look at your new house!!

He tries not to notice the excitement of seeing his daughter being slightly dulled by the promise of being accompanied by her mother. In a way it makes him sad, because he loves Mish, has loved her since he was seventeen years old. He cares deeply about her and has always wanted nothing but the best for her, has always enjoyed her visits in the past - for more than one reason. But now...

No. He has to shake the thought away before he freaks himself out.

Kiddo!!!! That's exciting, when were you thinkin?

We'll be there by Friday afternoon!! Sorry for the short notice but we weren't sure if it'd be possible til today. We're actually trying to stick to a schedule this time believe it or not.

That's ok, you know it doesn't matter to me. Wanna see you any time. Miss you a lot.

Aw Dad I miss you too, I can't wait to see you!!! We'll text when we're getting close. Gonna check into a motel that night and we'll be leaving again the next morning, gotta stay on track.

He almost offers his guest room. Almost. But then thinks better of it.

Sounds good kiddo, see you then :)

Mish texts him later that afternoon. He'd been expecting it, knew she would want to double check that the visit was alright, but her name popping up in his notifications sends a jab of anxiety to the pit of his stomach. It's one thing for Sarah to visit on her own, but both of them together always adds a... different layer to the situation. A layer that needs addressing. A layer that he'd usually have more than a little excitement for, some anticipation - but not this time.

Sarah's got me roadtrippin again

She loves to make you suffer.

Don't I know it

He can't help but chuckle to himself, but his smile fades quickly as soon as the next message comes in:

Gonna be stopping by on Friday. You good for our usual?

He stalls.

Thought you were still with Elvis.

ALVIN. And no that's over

Sorry about that.

Like hell you are

He purposely doesn't answer her question, and she doesn't send anything else. The anxiety doesn't go away though - it spreads throughout his body until he's an absolute mess, shaky hands and ringing ears at the job site as he tries to stay focused, but ultimately fails to. His crew flits here and there around him without much direction and they end up going overtime, leading to an angry call from the boss, a call that leaves his hands clenched into fists by the time he gets to the bar with the crew. Fuck. This. Job.

He drinks too much, tries to calm himself, keep his thoughts steady. He pretends he doesn't know why he's feeling like this, pushes down all the reasons he wishes Sarah was traveling by herself this time. But deep down, he knows.

He gets a ride home with one of his buddies, limbs aching in a way that they haven't for a while. He always has days like this, days where the physical labor catches up to his aging body and reminds him that he really shouldn't be doing this job anymore, but somehow it's worse this time; the mental load from Mish's texts are giving him a discomfort he can't really describe.

He remembers only as he crosses the threshold that he promised he'd call you. Shit.

He does, but he can't remember much of what he said the next morning, only that he vented a bit. He hopes with every bone in his body that he didn't mention Mish, that his complaints focused solely on work.

Your texts that afternoon from the church bathroom prove this to be the case, and he breathes a sigh of relief when you agree to come see him that night. He knows he'll feel calm in your company, that the anxiety will ebb away in your presence.

He tries not to think about the implications of that.

God, he's fucked.

--

You had a horrible day.

You show up on his doorstep with tears shining in your eyes and that soft little line furrowed deep between your brows, the line he adores, wants to smooth with his thumb. He pulls you in close and breathes you in and finds that the anxiety, the worry, the uncertainty, all of it disappears in your embrace. You tell him you don't want to do anything, just want to be with him.

You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that to him.

He lays you in his bed and holds you for a while, listens as you tell him about what happened, confide in him. You tell him more about your upbringing and your family, your school years and friends, the pressure and scrutiny you've felt suffocated by your whole life. And god if you're not describing him. You have no idea how fucking similar the two of you are, how much he wants to wrap you up and protect you from the world and from all the people who threaten to dull the light in your eyes. Don't become like me, he wants to whisper, you deserve so much better.

He could listen to you talk for hours. That soft voice lulls him into a state of nirvana he's never experienced, body practically going numb with how in tune it is with your words, like he's become some kind of plant absorbing all your emotions, thoughts, feelings, as you bare yourself to him. You're so lovely. Please never stop talking.

It all culminates in the removal of your crucifix. He barely even thinks about it, just knows exactly what he has to do to calm you, to make you feel better, to steal back some of those worries from you and lock them away for a little bit where they can't hurt you. It's the least he can do. He wants to do it.

It's a gesture he doesn't fully realize the importance of, the magnitude - not yet, anyway.

He backtracks while you shower. It's just sex. This is not going any further than you showing her how it's done, preparing her for the real world, for the future men who actually stand a chance with her. The thought makes him dig his nails deep into his duvet as he settles under the sheets and takes a deep breath. She's not yours. She doesn't want you the way she thinks she does. She doesn't know the real you.

He can't help but picture you in his shower, standing naked under the hot water, in the exact spot he's gotten himself off to your very image. His dick twitches in his pajama pants and he has to adjust himself, cursing softly at his dirty thoughts and reminding himself that nothing is happening tonight, that you don't want to. He's not even disappointed, doesn't care that the sexting from earlier isn't coming to fruition tonight; just laying with you is enough for him. And he hates himself because he knows exactly what that means.

His phone vibrates while he's waiting and he picks it up from the nightstand - a text from Sarah:

Gettin closer! We should be there tomorrow, probably late afternoon. Do you work Fridays?

Yep, he wants to say, Monday to Friday, every week of my entire life since before you were born, but of course he doesn't. Would never.

I do but I'll be back around 5:30 or so. I'll give you a call when I'm home.

Sounds good!!!

Also:

An image comes in and he taps it, squinting his eyes to figure out exactly what he's looking at. He can make out Sarah and Mish sitting atop some statue of a bull they must have encountered outside a gas station. Sarah's arm is thrown back as she poses with her signature killer smile, while Mish grips the bullhorns and sticks her tongue out, braids peeking out from under a cowboy hat. There's something about it that's familiar, something he can't quite place as his eyes strain without the aid of his glasses - the ones he never wears. He pushes his phone away from his eyes, brings it back and hopes to bring the image into focus a little bit.

Oh. It's his hat.

And fuck, if he doesn't know how that makes him feel.

"You need glasses," he hears you say softly, and he looks up from the image of his daughter and ex wife to see you standing at the edge of the bed, clad in nothing but a towel.

He locks his phone and hopes you weren't standing there too long.

--

He doesn't know how to tell you that he won't be able to see you tonight.

He spends the morning in complete and utter bliss, waking up to your bashful request to give him a blowjob. You're so fucking sweet, even when asking for something so filthy. Your mouth is soft and warm around his cock and he feels like he's died and gone to heaven, wants desperately to spill inside and watch you swallow but knows it's not the right time, not yet.

He wonders what your face would look like covered in his come.

Dirty. Old. Man.

You burn his breakfast and furiously apologize, cursing under your breath as you soak the freshly burnt pan under the faucet and frown at your failure. But he doesn't view it as a failure; for him it's just another thing to add to the mental list of reasons he thinks you're adorable.

You ride his thigh. He makes you come, the most beautiful little sounds escaping your lips as you ride it out. He loves how that little worry line between your brows always returns when he's making you feel good, like he really is taking some of that worry away and replacing it with pleasure. He only wants to see that line when he's making you come. He never wants to see you sad again like you'd been last night, just wants to hold you in his arms and protect you from the world.

But then it's time to go and he still hasn't told you about tonight. He does not want to lie to you. He refuses to. But what else can he say? Just that he'll be out late? What if you ask him why? And god, it's not like he's gonna do anything. He's not gonna entertain Mish's offer, not this time. He shouldn't. He won't.

You save him the trouble. Your friend from college is visiting, a girl named Tasha - she's taking you out for the first time ever. He supposes that makes things much easier; no explaining or giving excuses, no revealing things he's not ready to reveal. He dodged a bullet.

Right?

So why does he still feel like such a prick?

--

He gets home from work and calls Sarah, just like he said he would. He only has a short window of time to do a bit of sprucing - fluff the couch pillows a bit, do a quick wipe down of the bathroom - before the doorbell is ringing and he's jogging to the door with excitement coursing through his veins. The anxiety has dulled at the mere promise of seeing his daughter on the other side of that door.

"DAD!" she squeals excitedly as he thrusts it open, and he's immediately enveloped in the warmth of Sarah's embrace, sweet and familiar.

"Kiddo," he breathes into her hair, feeling tears prick in his eyes like they always do, "Missed ya."

"Missed you too," she says into his shoulder, muffled and quiet, "So much, Dad, you have no idea."

They have their moment together, eyes closed as they sway on the spot and smile tearfully - it's been almost a year since her last visit. It didn't used to feel as palpable, those long periods of time between seeing each other, but as he's gotten older he finds that he misses her a lot; his little pal, not so little anymore. Thirty eight now, a full blown woman with a loving husband and a freshly solid career as an author, the life he always wanted for her.

"How're things?" he asks softly, "You doin' okay? Need any money?"

She laughs, "Things are good. I'm good, I promise."

"How's Jude, he good?"

"He's great, and the book's been doin' really well."

"I'm so happy to hear that, kiddo, really. Happy for both of you."

"Thanks, Dad," she murmurs, sniffling a little bit, "Couldn't have done it without you, hope you know that."

And then she's pulling away, wiping the tears from her eyes and waving to the purple convertible behind her, gesturing for Mish to get out of the car.

Here we go.

She steps out and god, she's gorgeous. Age has done nothing but enhance her beauty. She's never not been the most stunning woman in a room, soft skin a glowing deep umber, supple long legs and playful smile and those dark brown - almost black - eyes that practically sparkle when she looks at him. Like the way she's looking at him now... fuck.

"Hey," she says with a sly grin, shutting the car door behind her and making her way up the front steps.

"Hey," he echoes back, "How was the drive?"

"Long," she groans, reaching him and going in for a hug. It's nowhere near as long or as intimate as Sarah's, but the feeling of her body against his feels just as familiar and comforting. It's so easy to fall back into their rhythm. Too easy. "You been good?" she asks as they part.

He nods quickly, "Yeah, you?"

"Can't complain," she replies with a smile.

"Oh please," Sarah scoffs beside her, "All you've done is complain," she looks to Joel with a grimace, "Alvin's out of the picture."

"Sarah," Mish admonishes quickly, brows narrowing.

"Yeah, I heard somethin' about that," he says, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, "Uh - that's too bad, Mish. He was, um... he was a good guy."

"No, he wasn't," she sighs, rolling her eyes and giving Sarah another look, "But that's a conversation for another time, right?"

Sarah puts her hands up in defense, "Sorry, sorry, my bad. We've been in the car too fuckin' long," she peeks past him with a curious expression on her face, "Can we come in? I wanna see your new house."

He shows them around, though there's not much to see, something which Mish points out almost immediately.

"Where's the character?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as she assesses the living room, "Like where's your stuff, Joel?"

"There's not even pictures of us anywhere," Sarah adds with a frown, scanning one of the bookshelves, "It's like we don't even exist."

He grimaces, hands on his hips, "I know, I'm sorry. I still have a few boxes up in the guest room but," he sighs, "You know me, I hate gettin' emotional over shit from the past. And half those boxes got your old school stuff, and-"

"Your Dad's a sentimental guy," Mish interjects with a soft smile, giving him those eyes again, "It's okay, we'll unpack 'em for you."

He scoffs, "We ain't got time for that, Mish."

"I always have time to be sentimental," her smile grows wider and she throws him a wink - his heart stutters.

"Well I always have time for a movie marathon," Sarah suddenly says, turning from the shelves with an array of DVDs in her hands, "Whaddaya say, Dad? Curtis and Viper? After the bar?"

He cocks an eyebrow, "The bar?"

"Oh? Didn't you hear? We're takin' you out, cowboy," Mish says with a smirk, "Or - I guess you're takin' us out. Whatever, either way we're goin' for dinner and drinks like the well adjusted wholesome family we are."

"And then we're gonna eat too much junk food and pass out on the couch like the good old days," Sarah adds, tossing the DVDs onto the coffee table, "Miller family fun."

"And do I get any say in this?"

They both turn to him at the same time with almost the same expression on their faces, and he knows he's already lost.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

--

They have dinner at their favorite chain, practically inhale their burgers and fries as Sarah and Mish catch Joel up on the trip so far, where they've been, what they've seen. He's grateful that the conversation is still on them by the time they get the check and start heading to the bar; he really doesn't want to answer any questions about himself tonight unless he has to.

The bar is louder than usual, much more packed than he's ever seen it. He grumbles this to Sarah and Mish but they just roll their eyes and order their drinks, cozying up together on their barstools and laughing hysterically over things that certainly aren't that funny. They're exhausted from their road trip and he can tell, tries to urge them to head back to the house after about fifteen minutes of being at the bar, but they resist.

"I like this place better than your old joint," Mish calls to him over the chatter, "Smells better too."

"Am I supposed to say thank you?" he calls back with a grin, and she just rolls her eyes and orders him another whiskey.

They don't stay too long, just enough for the girls to get their fill and toss back a few beers, continuing to tell Joel about their trip. Sarah scrolls through the pictures on her phone and shows him the tourist traps, the stops they've made here and there, the food they've eaten. Mish chimes in every so often to add her own anecdotes, bouncing off Sarah's stories naturally like she always has.

He loves how easy it feels to be with them, how comfortable, how safe. He's missed them so much. He wishes things could just stay like this for the rest of the night, simple and light, but every so often he catches Mish looking at him from under her lashes, those dark eyes searching his for something in particular, and he remembers there's still something they haven't addressed.

"Oh my god, Mom," Sarah suddenly says with wide eyes, pointing toward the front of the bar, "Do you see that girl's hat?"

"Where?"

"Those girls over there, look at that purple cowboy hat. Fuuuck, we should be wearing ours!"

Joel rolls his eyes, not bothering to look in the direction Sarah's pointing to and instead focusing on his whiskey, trying to think of ways he can get them out of this bar. Curtis & Viper is suddenly calling his name.

"They're still in the car if you wanna grab 'em," Mish says with a laugh, tossing Sarah the keys, "If you can walk straight."

"Oh please, I've had one beer. We're not all lightweights in this family, ya know," she presses a kiss to her mother's cheek before sliding past to head back to the front of the bar.

"Well, now that we have a moment alone..." she leans forward a bit on her elbow, hand cupping her chin as she tilts her head, "You didn't answer my question the other day, cowboy."

Here it is, the conversation he's been dreading, the one thing he's been putting off talking about the most. And why has he been dreading it? Why has he been filled with so much discomfort and anxiety at the thought of telling Mish that even though he's technically single, he can't be with her this time? It's not like she'd be angry with him, like she'd misunderstand or throw a fit over it. So why can't he just say it?

He knows why. It's because he doesn't want to tell Mish about you. It's because the second he says no, she'll see right through him; she'll know. She'll know immediately that there's somebody else, and she'll clock his feelings - the feelings he's been forcing himself to bury - and then he'll have to confront them, what they really mean.

And as usual, he's terrified.

He plays dumb, "What question?"

She inches the stool forward with a smirk, eyeing him pointedly as he feels her bare leg touch his jeans, slowly drifting up and down along his calf. Fuck. She tilts her head, eyes falling to his lips and then going back up to meet his gaze.

"Playin' coy, are we?" she asks softly, "Need me to say it out loud, huh?"

He feels goosebumps rise all over his arms at the sound of her voice like that, low and sultry; it's the voice she reserves just for these private moments together, fully aware of the effect she has over him.

"You gonna fuck me, cowboy?" she continues, eyes falling to his lips again, "Huh? You been missin' me in your bed?"

Fuck.

He doesn't say anything, just watches as her face moves a little closer to his, the hint of his favorite sly smile puling at the corner of her mouth. She assesses him quietly, gaze raking over his features.

"You're shy tonight, aren't you?" she says, fluttering her lashes, "You need me to take care of you, baby boy? You need your mommy?"

Only Mish could get away with saying something like that to him. He can't help but let a grin cross his own face as he shakes his head at the words, feeling his cheeks flush. He's still unsure what to say, what to think, how to feel. Under any other circumstance they would already be fucking in a bathroom stall at this point, and in a few seconds she's gonna realize that and wonder why the fuck he won't give in.

She kisses him then. Softly.

And it's right. It's so fucking right in all the ways it's always been. Her mouth is warm, lips plump and wet and sweet against his, capturing his bottom lip between hers in that seductive fashion she's oh so good at. Without any thought, as if on instinct, his hand comes up to cup her face, holding her there for a moment as he breathes her in. He realizes how easy it would be to just fall back into this rhythm, this old habit they've been indulging themselves in for years. It just feels so right.

But it's also so fucking wrong.

It's wrong. It's so wrong. This is not the mouth he wants to be kissing. For years, he's always found comfort and safety in Mish's kiss, never once felt like what they were doing was incorrect or some kind of mistake. But now it's like every fiber of his being is telling him to stop. To pull away. To end this as soon as possible.

So he does.

He takes a deep breath as they separate, pulls back from her on his stool a bit and takes another sip of whiskey. No, this can't happen. It's not going to happen. But he's gonna have to tell her that, otherwise she'll take the next step and he's not sure he'll be able to reign it in after that. The thought of her naked body underneath him in his bed is admittedly a tantalizing offer, the thought of being inside her again after so many years apart...

But she won't be the first naked woman in that bed. In that house. Someone else has already staked their claim, regardless of whether what he shares with you is real or not. And that thought is what pulls him out of it.

"Sarah's right," he says with a smile, "You are a lightweight."

She cocks her brow, "You think I'm drunk?"

He chuckles and takes another sip, "I think you're only here for one night and we should be spendin' that one night with our daughter."

She doesn't say anything for a second, just watches him thoughtfully until he finally meets her gaze again.

"Joel Miller, are you gettin' laid?"

He almost chokes on his whiskey, unable to stop himself from snorting as he shakes his head and peers at her with that fond look he's always given her, the one that lets her know that despite everything, he fucking adores her. She leans a bit closer, tilting her head a bit more with intrigue.

"Seriously, you seein' anyone?" she seems genuinely interested, eyes alight with curiosity, "You got someone new?"

Before he can say anything - before he even really knows what to say - Sarah has reappeared at the bar, hats in hand. He looks down at them and raises an eyebrow as Mish grabs hers, or rather his, the ratty old brown one he used to wear sometimes in the eighties. She grins and winks as if to say yeah, I stole it, so what?

"Okay well, purple cowboy hat girl is currently holding her friend's hair while she throws up on the sidewalk," Sarah sighs, placing her own atop her head.

Joel and Mish groan simultaneously, "Been there," they both say at the same time, catching each other's eye before Joel turns his attention back to his drink, almost gone now. She doesn't ask him anything else, but he knows this conversation is far from over.

--

Sarah drops them off at his place, promising to be back in a bit with the much anticipated junk food - no point in them all going together. Joel almost tells her not to go, his heart in his throat as he and Mish climb out of the car. He can't believe how desperate he suddenly is to not be alone with her. But he can't bring himself to say anything.

Coward.

She walks into the house first, almost like she's leading him into the lion's den. There's no escaping her questions now, no more running away from the inevitable. He has to tell her before it's too late. The front door closes behind them and they stand frozen for a moment, not speaking, not even really looking at each other. He could cut the tension with a knife.

"So how 'bout showin' me those boxes?" she finally asks, turning to give him a smile.

They make their way up the stairs to the guest room, Joel's anxiety reaching new levels when they pass by his bedroom. He not so subtly grabs the knob and pulls the door closed, tries to pretend he doesn't notice Mish eyeing him as he does it.

The guest room is still pretty bare bones, only a bed and dresser occupying the space, along with about half a dozen cardboard boxes. He's been meaning to do it up for when Sarah comes to stay, do some decorating, but he's never been good at that kind of stuff - Mish and Sarah were always the creative ones.

They crouch on the floor together and Joel watches as Mish pops open the first box, digging her hand inside and immediately coming out with a framed photo of Sarah's kindergarten graduation.

"Aw, look," she murmurs, thumbing the glass lightly and turning it toward him, "Little bean."

"She was so excited you came," he says with a smile, "It was all she talked about for months."

Mish smiles back sadly, eyeing the photograph one more time before placing it on the floor. She reaches in again and comes out with another framed photo, this one of an even younger Sarah being pushed on a swing by Joel. She's probably almost two, chubby legs poking out through the holes of the swing as she giggles in wonder, Joel standing behind, squinting against the sun.

"I've always loved this one," she says quietly, showing it to him, "Always wanted a copy to keep."

"We can make that happen," he takes it from her and looks down at it himself, feeling a mixture of emotions flutter in his heart at his much younger self - freshly twenty - pushing his little girl. He'd been on his own for a while at that point; he can see the tiredness in his expression, the loneliness.

"Still mad I missed all that," she murmurs, sitting back on her heels and sighing deeply, "Hate myself so much sometimes."

He's not sure what to say, just puts the picture back down and reaches in for another one - Sarah's high school graduation this time. It's a backyard photo, one taken at the barbecue they'd had with about thirty people all crammed into one frame. There are smiles all around, beer bottles raised, and Sarah in the center wearing that beautiful purple dress she'd spent almost a year working on. Mish and Joel stand on either side of her, frozen in a moment of laughter.

What the camera didn't catch was that behind that purple dress, they were holding hands.

"What a party that was, huh?" Mish glances up at him from under her lashes, those dark eyes sparkling with nostalgia, "You remember?"

He smiles softly, "I remember."

--

The arrangement started in '03.

They hadn't seen each other in about three years when she showed up on his doorstep in the summer of '96. She'd been in and out of their lives before then, usually called every other week to check in and talk to Sarah but rarely ever showed her face. Sarah barely knew her but had a love for her that burned so deep that Joel couldn't say half the things he wanted to. Couldn't tell his daughter that her mother was unpredictable and unreliable, that she'd disappeared for almost two years after Sarah had been born, hadn't checked in once, had only begun to show up again in 1988 when Sarah was almost three. And then one day the calls just stopped coming and he had no other choice but to tell her the truth. She was only eight.

Mish showing up again out of the blue when Sarah was eleven was not something they could have ever predicted. He was angry. She was sorry. She'd been to a facility, had been seeing a psychiatrist and a therapist for a solid chunk of time and was on medication. Sarah slapped her across the face and sprinted barefoot down the street until her toes were bloody and she couldn't run anymore. Joel found her and cradled her in his arms like he'd done when she was a baby, promised he'd make Mish go away if that's what Sarah wanted.

It was not what she wanted. She wanted a mom. She wanted her mom. She wanted them to be together.

After that, all they could do was try and heal.

And Mish tried. She did. She was ready. Joel was willing to listen. Sarah forgave, slowly. By Christmas of '97 they were living together again. They'd put their wedding rings back on.

But it couldn't last.

"Maybe this just isn't meant to work," she'd whispered to him tearfully on their back patio on a rainy day in March of '98, head in her hands, "I'm better in some ways but worse in others. I'm not meant for this kinda life, Joel. I just can't stay still anymore."

"Maybe we aren't meant to work," he'd told her firmly, "But Sarah needs you, Michelle. You can't just keep coming back into her life and then disappearing. If you do, you're never gonna see her again."

"I know," she'd whispered, quiet and scared, "I know, Joel. And I won't, I'll never do that to her ever again. But I just..." she'd hung her head, tears streaming down her face, "I just don't know what to do."

He'd suddenly felt a flash of deja vu, a reminder of a moment similar to this one twelve years earlier, when he'd held her just like this while she'd cried in his arms, hopelessness raking through both their trembling forms in the downpour.

"They'll kill me, Joel. They're gonna kill me. How am I supposed to be a mom? This can't be real. This isn't happening. What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know, Mish. But I'm with you, okay? I'm not goin' anywhere. You got me. I don't care what they think, what they wanna do. It's just you and me, you hear me?"

"You and me, Joel. Just you and me."

She left Joel and the life they'd cultivated in the year since she came back, but she didn't leave Sarah, not this time. She kept up with regular visits, called often, tried her best to be a mother in the only ways she knew how. Eventually Joel stopped worrying she'd disappear again, and she didn't. Sarah and Mish's relationship wasn't an easy one, especially during those first few years of being reconnected, but eventually they were mother and daughter again. The way it always should have been. They'd go on adventures together, road trips and concerts and trips to amusement parks, everything they could to make up for lost time.

As for she and Joel, they became friends. For the first time in a long time they talked again, really talked. They got to know each other from scratch without the pressures of trying to be people they weren't; she'd come to stay every so often and she'd be more than welcome in their home, a reassuring presence to Sarah and a comforting one for him. There were times he almost kissed her again, almost embraced her the way they used to embrace, but then he'd remind himself that they didn't work. Couldn't work. He'd push the feelings down and love her from a distance, the only way he could.

She came to stay for Sarah's graduation in '03. They had a big party, invited everyone they knew, got very drunk. The inevitable finally happened, something they'd been skirting around for the past few years every time they saw each other, the attraction and tension building and building the longer they went without admitting that they still wanted one another. They'd been through the ringer together and came out the other side and still looked at each other like they had in high school. It was only a matter of time.

They fucked all night and into the morning.

"Oh my god," he'd groaned into her ear, naked bodies splayed against each other in bed, entwined together for the first time in almost seven years, "I missed that. Jesus fuck, I missed that."

It was only meant to be that one time, a celebration of some sort that happened unexpectedly but never again. That was the case until she came back in '06, still single, still beautiful, and he couldn't help himself. They both couldn't help themselves.

The arrangement was simple: whenever they reunited with each other and they were both single, both wanted it, they'd have sex.

It worked. And it was good, so fucking good. Every time. They were wild with it, felt younger than they'd ever been whenever they were tangled up in Joel's bed, on the couch, in the shower. They tried new things together and had more fun than they'd ever had when they were actually in a relationship. Each time it was like they were playing pretend; pretending for a short while that their everyday problems didn't exist, nothing else existed but them. Just them - just this moment.

The last time he saw Mish was four years ago. He'd been fresh out of his last relationship, the only relationship that had really meant something to him since his marriage. Tess was lovely, beautiful and funny and exactly the person he'd needed after those tumultuous years with Mish; someone calm and collected, stable and secure. They were just friends first, for a while, but eventually developed a sexual relationship that was only ever meant to be casual. After about a year she'd confessed her feelings and he'd thought, what the hell, I might as well try. Unfortunately, his what the hell attitude had been a steady feature of their entire relationship, and he'd never been able to fully be what she'd needed.

It was his fault it ended, but that hadn't stopped him from feeling heartbroken over it. And when Sarah and Mish had visited she'd dressed his wounds in the only way she really knew how - sex. The sex was always good with Mish, regardless of the situation. It was always what they needed. But it could only ever be sex because their personalities were never meant to blend; she was flighty and wild and needed space - he was steady and serious and enjoyed the comforts of home. And those early years were something he'd never get back, something he still blamed her for, and she knew it. It could never work, as much as they may have tried early on.

She'd been on the cusp of a new relationship, this guy Alvin who she'd met in Philadelphia, but nothing was set in stone yet and she wanted Joel to feel good.

"Nothing else matters right now," she'd whispered in the darkness of their old bedroom, the one he'd shared with her countless times over the past twenty years, "It's just you and me, Joel. It's always been you and me."

"You and me, Mish," he'd repeated, hands firm against her bare back as she slowly began to ride him, "Just us, just you and me."

--

He's still staring at the picture of their younger selves when her hand slowly comes down to touch one of his. He swallows tightly, feels her eyes on him, senses her moving closer.

"Mish," he whispers; an acknowledgement? A warning?

He feels a finger on his chin, tilting his head up to meet her gaze, and then she's kissing him again. It's different than it was at the bar, much less soft, less reserved. She moans into his mouth as the picture falls to the floor, pushes him down so he's laying flat and then throws a leg over his thighs. She situates herself in his lap in the span of about five seconds and he barely has any time to register what's even happening.

But when he does... he's not happy.

"Stop," he mumbles against her mouth, bringing his hands down to grab her hips and carefully pull her off of him. Her brows furrow in confusion as he slides her away and sits back up, kneels and then stands with a groan. His fucking knees.

"Why?" she asks, peering up at him from the floor.

"'Cause... 'cause nothin'," he lies, shaking his head and sitting down on the edge of the bed with a sigh, wincing as his bones crack from being on the floor in such an odd position, "Nothin', I'm just tired."

She follows him up from the floor and onto the bed, seats herself beside him and leans in to mouth gently against his neck, hot and wet, "That's okay, baby. I can do all the work."

"I said no, Mish," he repeats, standing up again and walking away from the bed, "I don't want to."

"Why?" she repeats, adamant now.

He splutters, kicking his feet and not meeting her gaze, "Sarah'll be back soon, there's no time."

"Time has never been an issue before, you know that more than anybody."

"I just don't want you right now, alright?" it comes out much louder and angrier than he'd intended, "Jesus Christ, Mish."

That stops her short, the room plunging into silence as she stares at him from her place on the edge of the bed. Her lips begin to tremble, hands coming to wring together in her lap uncomfortably. She shakes her head slowly, tears welling in her wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, voice shaky, "I'm sorry, Joel."

God dammit. He hadn't meant to make her cry.

With a sigh he walks back over to the bed, sitting down beside her again - but not as close this time. She continues to stare forward, still tugging at her hands as tears slowly start to make their way down her cheeks. He feels a familiar pang of pity in his heart, the urge to comfort her like he always has, hold her close and kiss her softly. But he doesn't do that; instead, he places a hand on hers to halt her movements, squeezes them gently.

"You wanna know why it didn't work out with Alvin, Joel?" she asks quietly.

"Why?"

She takes a shaky breath, "He had a wife. A fuckin' wife and three kids. Young kids, still in school, still livin' at home."

"Jesus," he mutters.

"And you wanna know how I found out? Because one night he was sayin' her name when he was fuckin' me; Sharon. Fuckin' Sharon. Repeatin' it over and over without even realizing. And then he had the audacity to act like he didn't know what the hell I was talkin' about." The tears are flowing steadily now, staining her cheeks and dripping down onto their locked hands, "I did some diggin', found out his real name, found his whole other life. I've been a fuckin' mistress for four years and had no clue."

"Michelle..." he breathes.

"Don't call me that," she snaps, turning her face away from him and trying to reign the tears back in but failing miserably, voice coming out in sobs now, "You know how long it's been since someone wanted me, Joel? Actually wanted me? I get that I'm a shitty person. I know I fucked up a lot in my life. I mean, maybe I don't deserve love, 'cause why the hell can't I fuckin' find it? Why does nobody want me?"

"Stop," he says firmly, squeezing her hands tighter, "Don't say shit like that, don't think that way."

"But it's true," she cries, pulling her hands away and bringing them up to her face, "I just needed to be wanted again, Joel. Just for a night, and now you don't even want me."

"That's- that's not true, Mish, come on."

"You literally just said the words two minutes ago," she's suddenly inconsolable, tears streaming down her face as she sobs beside him, "You don't want me, no one wants me."

His arms come up to wrap around her, pull her close to him as she cries harder. He doesn't know what the fuck to do, how to be what she needs without being what she needs. It's an impossible position to be in; how can he just walk out the door and leave her sitting there like this? Leave her so sad, so broken?

"Joel, I need this," she whispers, peering up at him through her wet lashes and leaning her head forward to rest against his shoulder, "Please. I need you."

God. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What the fuck is he supposed to do? How the fuck can he say no when she's looking at him like that, begging for him?

"Please," she repeats, turning her head and pressing a wet kiss to the skin of his collarbone, "Please, Joel, please," her kisses slowly move up to his neck, warm and safe and familiar. His eyes start to close, lips parting as she keeps going, "It's just us, it's you and me."

Just us, you and me.

"Stay here," he finally breathes, thumbing the skin of her hip reassuringly, "Just - just stay here, okay? I'll be right back."

He finds himself thirty seconds later just standing in his bedroom, unmoving, unsure, thoughts going a mile a minute. He breathes in and out slowly, tries to calm the anxiety threatening to burst through the seams of his very being. What the fuck am I doing? What the actual fuck am I doing right now?

He goes through the motions without really feeling or understanding them. Goes to the bathroom and relieves himself, splashes cold water on his face and stares at his reflection for too long. Heads back to his bedroom and just stands there again, heart pounding. She's waiting for him. Time is passing and he's just standing there.

"Joel?" he hears her call out, voice still thick with tears.

He does not want her to follow him in here. He does not want to have sex in this bed.

With shaky steps he walks over to his nightstand and tugs it open, sees the box of condoms. Stares at them. Stares at them so long that she calls out again.

"Joel? You comin'?"

He feels like he's underwater, ears ringing as his hand trembles on the handle of the drawer, itching to just slam it closed again. What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?

And then he sees it.

He'd completely forgotten it was there, has been doing his best this entire night to not think about you that he's already managed to forget what happened last night. But he remembers now. He reaches down, hand suddenly completely steady, and pulls the gold chain to entwine around his fingers. It's like he's touching you in a way, feeling you, sensing you - your tears, your sadness, your anger, your insecurities - all wrapped up in this one little cross.

He thumbs it carefully, eyes softening, anxiety ebbing away as the seconds pass. He pictures your lovely face this morning, all sleepy and pretty and perfect in the glow of the early sunrise, the way your hair framed your face, the way you bit your lip shyly when you told him what was on your mind.

He hears footsteps in the hall, knows she's coming, but he doesn't care. Just keeps standing there with his hand curled around your crucifix and warmth filling his chest.

He hears the door open, hears her step inside.

"I can't," he says softly, before she can speak.

Silence. Then -

"What's that?"

"It's..." he closes his fist around the crucifix and then shuts the drawer slowly, still looking down at it. When he finally brings his head up he sees Mish standing near the side of the bed, looking at him with confusion in her eyes.

He swallows tightly, "There's someone else, Mish."

He watches the realization dawn on her face, the confusion fading and acceptance flooding her features. She nods slowly, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears still trickling down her cheeks. "You coulda just said that," she breathes, closing her eyes, "Why didn't you just say?"

He doesn't reply, doesn't know what to say. Or rather, knows what to say but can't say it because then it'll make it real. And he's still so fucking scared for it to be real.

Mish slowly walks forward and sits on the edge of the bed, taking a few steadying breaths to calm herself. "Feel like a fuckin' idiot," she mumbles; she seems okay now, nowhere near as hysterical as she'd been before.

"You're not an idiot," he murmurs. God, he should have just fucking told her. He should have said something.

"So, who is she?" she asks quietly.

"She's..." he swallows again, taking a seat on the other side of the bed, facing the opposite direction, "She's a girl I met a little while ago." A few weeks ago, he mentally corrects. Almost a month. Barely any time at all.

She clocks that. "Girl? Or woman?"

"....Girl."

"How old?"

"Twenty one."

"Jesus," he's not sure what she's thinking when he can't see her face, not sure if she's angry or disgusted or just surprised, "I mean, wow. That's... that's young, Joel."

"I know."

"Never known you to go even ten years lower."

"I know."

Silence again. He's waiting for her to ask the question, the one he knows is coming, the one he's been dreading every since he got that text from Sarah on Wednesday. The one that will force him to admit what he's so desperately been trying to bury.

"So... is it just sex? Or is it..." she trails off for a few seconds, "Is it more?"

There it is.

"I don't know," he murmurs, putting his face in his hands and hunching over the side of the bed with a groan, "I don't know what it is but she's... she's in my head, ya know? She's everywhere, can't stop fuckin' thinkin' about her." The crucifix digs into his cheek, probably making an imprint in his skin, "She's so fuckin' young but, God, Mish, she's so fuckin' sweet. I wanna... I wanna take care of her, ya know? But-" he feels the tears flooding his eyes, tries to swallow his feelings as best he can, "I'm just.. I can't..."

"You're in over your head," she acknowledges softly, "You don't know what you're doin'."

"I don't."

"And that scares the fuck outta you, huh?"

"Pretty much."

They don't say anything else for a few moments, both absorbing the revelation in silence and neither really knowing what else to say about it. This night has gone in a direction that neither were prepared for and he's not sure they'll be able to fix it before Sarah gets back. Which reminds him...

"You'd think Sarah woulda been back by now."

Mish snorts, a welcome sound in the middle of so much tension. He turns around to look at her, finds her doing the exact same thing.

"I told her to give us forty five minutes to an hour, tops," she says with a half smile.

Of course she did.

--

Mish decides to get a cab back to the motel she and Sarah booked. He doesn't argue. He knows it's for the best, knows there will be another, better conversation some time in the future and that despite everything, they'll see each other again.

"She's lucky to have you," she tells him softly at the front door, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. He can hear the sincerity in her words, knows she means it. "You'll take care of her, Joel. Like you take care of everyone."

He just closes his eyes, pulls her in closer and lets the tears fall.

--

Sarah gets back with the food, doesn't question where Mish is; she must have texted her and told her she wouldn't be here. There's no awkwardness or questions, just the same old familiarity and love as Sarah pops the first DVD into the ancient player they've had forever and settles in beside him on the couch. They only half-watch it, continuously getting distracted by each other's dumb commentary and random anecdotes about the past. This is what he wanted tonight to be. Just this.

He tries his best to be present with Sarah, but by the time they're halfway through the second film he can't stop thinking about you. He'd spent so much of today trying to push thoughts of you away and now your face is suddenly all he can see whenever he blinks, your soft giggles and whimpers echoing in his ears. He wonders what you're doing, if you're having a nice time with your friend, if you're being careful like he'd told you to be. You'd said this was your first time going out and he just hopes you're safe. Your crucifix sits reassuringly in the pocket of his jeans, almost like a part of you is still here with him.

He excuses himself to use the bathroom and sends you a quick text:

Hope you're having a good night, babygirl. You deserve to have some fun. I'll see you tomorrow. Be safe.❤️

He feels the urge to press a kiss to his phone and wonders when the hell he got so damn soft. He can practically hear Mish's voice telling him you've always been soft, dummy. She'd be right.

--

They both wake up the next morning still snuggled up on the couch, Sarah on one end and him on the other. He yawns and stretches, groans when he feels a searing pain in his lower back; fuck, he shouldn't have slept on the couch.

"Old man," Sarah mocks quietly with a glint in her eye, and he playfully slaps her leg.

He checks his phone when Sarah heads to the bathroom, hopes maybe you'll have replied to him when you got in last night, but there's nothing there. He frowns but lets logic soothe him, reminding himself that you were probably too tired when you got back and fell asleep right away. He sends you another text, just to be sure:

You get home ok? Let me know x

He'll see you soon for your lesson anyway.

After breakfast he walks Sarah out onto the front step, hand holding hers tightly, almost afraid to let go. She smiles up at him sadly and squeezes back, a silent promise.

"I'll visit again real soon, Dad," she says quietly, "Sooner than last time. I'll bring Jude too, y'all can watch football together."

He smiles with watery eyes, "I'm countin' on it, kiddo."

"You're not lonely, are you?" she suddenly asks, expression one of love and concern, "You got people here, right?"

Your face crosses his mind again, your lovely smile, that little line between your brows, "I'm not lonely," he reassures her softly, "Promise."

He means it.

They hug each other tenderly, basking in one last moment together before they inevitably have to pull away. She walks to her car and turns back with one final wave, tears glistening in her eyes. He waves back and then heads back inside the house quickly before she can see what a mess he is, hands coming up to cover his eyes on the other side of the door as he pulls himself together.

And then, just like that, he's alone again.

--

You don't show up to your lesson.

His first thought is that you're still asleep, probably hungover from last night and desperately in need of some rest. He doesn't blame you, has had more bad hangovers than he can even count. He checks in with you anyway, hoping he'll hear back soon when you wake up.

Another hour passes; he's already cleaned up the kitchen, vacuumed up the popcorn lining the couch and living room floor, rearranged the DVDs, and suddenly the boxes upstairs in the guest room are calling his name. Anything to make the time pass, anything to distract himself from the fact that he still hasn't heard from you.

He texts you again after two hours, after he's finished unpacking two boxes. He just sends some question marks this time. It's around noon now and he keeps trying to convince himself that you're just sleeping, probably still passed out in bed with leftover alcohol buzzing through your veins. The thought makes him wish he was there with you, taking care of you, bringing you glasses of water and cuddling with you until you feel better.

It's mid afternoon when he starts to question whether or not you even got home. He knows you're not home home, that you'd gone to an Airbnb with your friend for the weekend, but he has no idea where it is and if you're even there. What if something happened on the night out? What if you got lost or got too fucked up to figure out how to get back? What if someone you didn't know took you back with them?

He feels sick to his stomach. This time he does the only rational thing he feels he can do - he calls you. He sits on the edge of his bed, toes tapping against the hardwood floor as he waits for you to pick up, but you don't. It goes to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again. Same thing.

He texts you again, but something tells him you won't be reading them any time soon.

--

He leaves the house to clear his head, anxiously tapping on the wheel as he drives around the neighborhood. He passes by your parents' house a few times, eyeing the property and trying his best to see past the ridiculous fence they have blocking off the place. He makes out a police car in the driveway and almost has a panic attack before he remembers that your father is a cop and that's just the vehicle he drives.

He calls and texts you a few more times as the evening comes around. He pours himself some whiskey and tries to calm himself down, breathes in and out, practices the exercises he's had to depend on throughout most of his life. He's always had an anxiety problem, has been on and off medication for it for years. He briefly considers popping an Ativan before realizing that he probably shouldn't mix it with alcohol.

The alcohol messes with his head a bit as darkness falls. He starts to wonder if maybe you did get back safe, just with someone else, someone new. Maybe you met someone, had a connection, took them home and let them be the one to fuck you for the first time. Maybe the reason you're not reaching out is because you're afraid of what he'll say, afraid he'll be angry.

While the thought makes him feel sick and sad, he's even sicker and sadder about not knowing where the fuck you are. He sends you a text to reiterate this, hoping you'll read it and understand:

Just a text is all I need honey. I promise. If you're not feeling this anymore that's okay. Just wanna know you got home safe last night.

He's already unpacked all the boxes, peppered photographs and music memorabilia all over his house as the day came to a close, and now he has nothing else to do but just sit and wait. So he waits. And waits. And waits.

You still don't reply.

He calls you over and over again, wondering what the fuck he's going to do. He can't in good conscious just let this go on, just stop contacting you and let you come back to him on your own. What if something bad really did happen? What if you're really fucked up somewhere? What if someone took advantage of you? He can't just sit idly by and wait.

He lays in bed and stares at the ceiling, feels tears sting his eyes every time he comes up with a new concept as to where you are, what could have happened. All he wants is to have you here with him, warm and soft in his bed, close in all the ways he needs you.

I don't know what to do angel. Can't stop thinking about you. Wish you were here in my arms. Please be safe.

He's scaring himself the longer he thinks about where you could be, knows he has to take action. He decides that if he still hasn't heard from you by tomorrow morning, he'll tell somebody. Whether it be the police or your parents, it doesn't really matter - they're one and the same.

He sends you one last text before the whiskey puts him to sleep:

Please.

--

The doorbell wakes him up. At first he thinks maybe he's hearing things, especially when he tiredly unlocks his phone and sees that it's three in the morning, but then it rings again. And again. Over and over like someone is pressing the button repeatedly. He sits up in bed with a jolt and swings his legs over the side, heart racing as he practically sprints down the stairs.

He turns on the light, squinting with tired and bleary eyes through the frosted glass along the side of the door. He can make out something pink and his eyes widen. He grabs the handle and tugs the door open, only for his body to immediately collide with someone else's, a beautiful girl in a pink dress.

It's you. His beautiful girl. His angel. Standing there almost completely unable to hold yourself upright as you lean against him, arms coming up to wrap around his middle. He holds you close, momentarily frozen in shock.

"Are you okay?"

You're so out of it. He takes you to the couch and you can barely open your eyes, can barely get words out as you flop drunkenly against the cushions. He can't tell if you're drunk or high or both, trying his best to get your attention, desperately asking what you took, where you've been. It's terrifying to see you like this, so completely not yourself, loose and uninhibited in the worst way. You tell him you came here with Tasha and he waves her inside, hoping she can help shed some light on what the fuck happened to you.

Tasha is something else. She stands her ground, doesn't back down when he clearly tries to intimidate her, consistently tries to get past him and reach for you despite his attempts to block her. He's angry, so fucking angry that she could let this happen to you. How long have you been like this? How long has this "night out" been going on? Did it turn into a fucking bender?

"She knows what you've been doing, you asshole." The words mean nothing to him, he has no idea what the fuck she's even talking about. They're clearly both wasted - you more than her - and have somehow wound up at his house at three in the morning by some miraculous volition. He's not letting you leave with her, that's for sure.

Then you say the same thing to him and he's beyond confused, waiting to be let in on whatever sick fucking joke is being played on him right now. What do they think he's been doing? What do they think they know? What have their intoxicated brains convinced themselves of?

And then the other shoe drops.

"We saw you kiss someone else."

That feeling he'd had yesterday - that sensation of being underwater - returns in full force. He stares at you; not Tasha, you. Because as soon as she says it your eyes tear away from him to stare at the floor, lips trembling in sadness, hands shaking beneath Tasha's arms. He can see it in your expression, in your body language despite the alcohol - you're fucking heartbroken. You can't even look at him.

He tries to explain but the words aren't coming out right; he's sure he sounds absolutely pathetic as he just stands there in the middle of the living room, stumbling over his words like the absolute fool he is. You still don't look at him. You don't say anything, and it kills him.

That's when he realizes that Tasha is not the one in the wrong here. It's him. He's the one who deserves to be shouted at, intimidated, made to feel small. He's the one who fucked up. It's him.

And then - if the situation hadn't already been bad enough - Tasha informs him that you'd seen Sarah leaving this morning. His eyes go wide, heart racing like a steam engine in his chest as he shakes his head and wonders how the fuck this could be happening right now. The past few days he's been so unsure about letting you know the real him, didn't know if he'd ever be able to tell you - and now he has no choice. No choice but to drop a bomb on you in this sad and drunken state, otherwise leave you believing that he's been doing god knows what with god knows who.

"That was my daughter."

You register the words and finally look at him, and his heart swells three sizes in his chest when your gazes meet. Just for a moment you don't look as sad, don't look as broken. You peer into his eyes and he thinks for a moment that maybe you see him, really see him, for the first time. It's both terrifying and incredible and he doesn't know how he manages to get the words out, but he does.

He knows now what he has to do.

He has to tell you. He has to tell you everything.

Tasha apologizes and helps you back out to the cab. He watches her place you carefully inside, watches as you turn your head to look out the back window, still peering at him with that look on your face that he can't really explain. He stands and waits until you've disappeared down the street before going back inside, where he immediately collapses onto the couch, exhausted.

He reaches inside his pocket and tugs out your crucifix, brings it up to his neck with trembling hands and manages to latch it around his neck. He palms the cross, presses it into the bare skin at his collarbone.

She's safe, he thinks to himself, she's safe and that's all that matters.

--

In the morning, as soon as he wakes up, he sends you a text:

I'm so sorry. Words can't even describe how fucking ashamed and embarrassed I am. I can't imagine how horrible that must have been for you. I understand if you don't want to see me anymore, but I want to tell you everything, if you'll let me. I hope you're feeling okay today, angel. Drink lots of water, stay with Tasha. Text me whenever you're ready.

He wants to cry, thinking about how much he hurt you. He wouldn't blame you for wanting this to just be over now, to move on and pretend like you never even met him that day on his front step. He feels so fucking ashamed of himself, angry for not telling Mish the truth from the beginning, horrified that you'd seen him in a moment of weakness like that, a moment of cowardice.

The crucifix stays on his neck throughout his shower and breakfast. He's never been one to wear jewelry, and god knows he's never been one to wear jewelry with religious imagery, but somehow it calms him to have it on, soothes him. His anxiety feels better despite the circumstances, and he's grateful.

His phone buzzes around eleven and the force at which he picks it up almost sends it flying across the room. His brow furrows when he sees a text from an unknown number:

hey it's tasha. sorry about last night. that was a shitshow. she's awake and feeling better, just wanted you to know.

She didn't have to do that and he knows it.

Thank you. I'm glad she has you. I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you, I was just really worried about her.

that's ok. i know you're a good guy. she knows it too.

Do you, though? Do you really still think of him as being someone you can trust, someone you can talk to? Someone you can give yourself to completely?

i'm gonna send you the address of the airbnb. i think you should come talk to her.

The address follows and he puts it into his maps app; it's not too far, he can make it there in about forty minutes.

Thank you so much Tasha

text when ur here, i'll let you in.

--

He sits in his truck for a lot longer than he needs to after pulling up to the house. He knows he has to tell you everything now, that you're going to want answers and that he'll give them to you. But he's made a discovery in the past twelve hours that has his head reeling:

He wants to tell you. He wants you to know all about him. Suddenly, he doesn't mind that he's old and washed up and pathetic. He wants you to know that, wants you to see the real him, who he really is. The unpretty, uncharming reality of his mediocre life. He isn't sure that you'll want it, that you'll want him, but what he's sure of is that he's tired of pretending.

What Mish had said on Friday night - "You know how long it's been since someone wanted me, Joel? Actually wanted me?" - it had resonated with him in a way he hadn't been expecting. He knows that feeling, has been feeling it for years without actually saying it aloud because admitting it was too painful, too scary.

He's been putting on a front for his entire life. First, to his parents, then to Mish, then Sarah, then the select few women who'd come in and out of his life, then Tess, and now you. And he's tired. He's so fucking tired of pretending to be someone else. For the first time in a long time, he actually wants to be him.

I'm here.

Tasha opens the door to let him inside. The house is pretty cozy, probably one of the more inexpensive ones you both could find. He notes the leftover snacks littering the table and couch, the empty wine glasses. He hopes you had fun here, at least for a little while. Before he fucking ruined it.

"She's asleep," Tasha says, closing the door behind him and ushering him inside, "I wanna talk to you for a sec, before you go in."

He nods and she gestures toward the couch for him to sit. He takes his place on the edge, knees together as he looks up at her and waits for her to speak.

"I'm her best friend," she says firmly, hands on her hips - she means business, "I've known her for three years now and I know her better than anyone."

He nods slowly.

"She's really coming into herself right now," Tasha continues, "She's making big discoveries, figuring out who she is and what she wants. You know that."

"I do."

"And... well, we both know that what she wants most is you."

He swallows then, feels his heart begin to pound, clenching his fists at his knees.

"This thing with your ex, is it over?"

"Yes," he says immediately, "She'll always be my daughter's mother, she'll always be my friend, but that part of our relationship is over."

"And you mean that?"

"I mean it."

She assesses him and slowly nods, then curls her finger and urges him to stand back up. He does, suddenly towering over her in the small living room.

"First door on the left," she tells him, then walks to the front door, "I'll give you some space."

She's gone before he has the chance to thank her.

He slowly makes his way down the hallway, step by step. He reaches the door, heart pounding in his chest as he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and lets the promises he made to himself flood through his mind. His past, his present, and his future... the future he sees with you.

He touches his pocket, feels for your crucifix.

I can do this, he thinks to himself. For her, I can do this.