#if the world wasn’t burning basically

[moonlesslights]

Miguel O’hara in Love

Headcanons.

━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━

A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.

Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)

This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.

Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍

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Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.

You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.

And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.

What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.

You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.

The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.

He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.

You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.

“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”

You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.

“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.

“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”

“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”

The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.

That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.

“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.

You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.

“For real?”

“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”

His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.

“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.

He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.

Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.

No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.

Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.

Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.

“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.

Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.

History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.

You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.

No. You would never find out about that.

Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.

But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.

“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:

“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.

“I know.”

“You could have hurt yourself.”

“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”

He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.

He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.

“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.

“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.

“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”

That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?

Were you really that bored?

“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.

You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.

“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”

You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.

Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.

He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.

You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?

“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.

He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.

He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.

When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”

You nod without waiting for another question.

“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.

It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.

Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.

He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.

It wasn’t that big of a deal…

Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.

He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.

With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.

“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”

“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.

“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”

Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”

“Miguel…”

“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”

When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.

“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.

“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.

“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.

You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.

It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.

His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.

The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.

“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.

“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.

“Need help?”

You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”

“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.

But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.

You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.

Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.

His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.

“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.

“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”

“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.

But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.

“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.

“I’m…”

“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.

And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.

And then… A call.

He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.

His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.

“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.

“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.

“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”

And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.

“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”

He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.

“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.

“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.

“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”

The woman, for the first time, remains silent.

“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”

A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.

She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.

She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.

Miguel wanted to own you.

He wasn’t good at hiding it.

His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.

Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.

But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.

When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.

“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.

He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.

“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.

You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.

The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.

You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.

“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.

“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.

You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.

You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.

But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.

“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.

“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.

You nod.

“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.

“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.

He was so close, he just needed…

“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.

You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.

He was ready for the next round.

…

Thank you so much for coming all this way!

PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.

This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.

I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.

Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3

PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!

PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.

[taintedcigs]

˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 2; summer breeze — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader x eddie munson

summary: in which some chaos ensues between the boys and billy, and one of the boys finally get what they want; you. (wc: 6.5k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious) kinda fist fight? billy gets punched, im sorry but billy gets punched a lot in my fics, protective steddie hehe, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater and kinda of a mastermind, eddie is a cutiepie.

authors note: not proof-read ignore mistakes ! thank u @andvys for giving me the best ideas always and thank u for helping me! ily and hope u enjoy this mwah!!! also yall know mastermind by ts? and how its kinda supposed to be sarcastic? well i took that song too seriously and literally. listened to a lot of metal and this fic is their love child! enjoy !!

and please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol. 1 here

Fuzzy.

Exactly how your mind and body felt.

You didn’t expect to do that with Steve.

King Steve. You were just supposed to play with him.

He wasn’t supposed to make you feel like this.

And it wasn’t anything, it was purely physical. Or at least that’s what your mind forced you to think.

Because no one had ever made you cum like that before, no one ever attended to you like that before.

Pathetic. Really pathetic. You’ve fucked half the guys in Hawkins, yet one night with Steve, and he didn’t even fuck you, yet that’s all you could think about.

You sucked on the cigarette sitting between your lips, the feeling giving you a lewd reminder of earlier when you remembered how good he felt between your lips, sliding down your throat.

Shit shit shit. Shut the fuck up. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Want something stronger than that?” The voice belonged to the curly-haired boy you were looking everywhere for.

It felt like a fucked up horny deja vu. 

Turning around swiftly, the smoke formed around the air between you when you blew it in his face, making him grin. “Eddie!” Your tone gleeful, “Been looking everywhere for you!” Sweet. Sweet but so fucking dangerous. Eddie knew that about you.

He knew about the effect you had on everyone. I mean, he wasn’t complaining, he was right there in line with them. Just to have a glimpse of you.

He and Steve shared one thing in common; you.

Maybe that’s eventually what drew them closer, both boys begging for your attention in every way possible. Pathetic, but you were so tempting.

They teased each other about you, Eddie bragged about the countless times you batted your lashes at him, the countless times you twirled and giggled at him.

and Steve bragged about how you looked at him with your alluring eyes, or how you called him ‘baby’ that one time. 

Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve the way he did with you, because Steve usually never got hung up on one girl, it was simple for him, he’d fuck one and then move to another. But you always kept him on his toes. Something no one ever did before. So he always tried and tried, failing regardless. 

He didn’t blame him, he’d burn the world down if you asked him to, even though the only interactions he had with you were when you bought something from him, or the countless times you winked at him whenever he saw you around. God, that had him on his knees. 

So it was no surprise he almost melted when you said those magical words. You? Looking for him? 

“Me?” A rush of bubblegum pink is quick to rise to his cheeks. He can’t help himself, Steve was going to freak out when he found out how you were looking for Eddie. God, he was going to have fun with this. 

“Where’s Billy?” He added, trying to sound cool when he lit the freshly rolled joint sitting on his wetted lips. 

He was cute. Didn’t even know the rumors, and the blush on his cheeks weirdly had you need him. 

“We broke up,” you hummed, and a boyish grin sat on his lips immediately while he noted how you didn’t have a sad bone in your body, that jerk didn’t deserve you. “I’m just having fun now, you know?” You added with a smirk. 

You were going to be the death of him. He could be fun, he could be so fucking fun, he could make you feel fun you’ve never felt before. 

“Oh, yeah? With who, now?” Shit, shit, shit. That is not what he meant to say, he was an absolute fucking idiot. A grade one asshole.  

Your eyes widened when you tilted your head, “are you calling me a slut, Munson?” You snatched the joint from his lips, earning a whine from him as you kept your piercing eye contact. 

The pinkish color on his cheeks turned blood red, and you could see him almost fidgeting. Why did you find it so endearing? 

“N-no! No that’s not what I meant at all! You’re not a slut! I mean if you want to be you could be— I mean you’re not but—” His words tangled with each other adorably, and you couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle. 

“I’m just playing with you!” You playfully nudged his shoulder, adoring the way his grin came back instantly, you took a long drag from the joint before passing it back to him. “Don’t worry, baby.” 

Eddie almost lost it at that.

Suck it, Steve. She called him baby, too, and now they were fucking even. 

“I’m having fun with everyone that douchebag hates.” You muttered with a smirk. 

Eddie desperately needed to make Billy hate him, maybe he could rip him off the next time he brought from him, or maybe he could just… sucker punch him? 

“Steve was fun.” You giggled, remembering the way he was so pathetically begging for you to stay. And you had to admit he was good, the best you had in this messed up town. 

Eddie blinked quickly, struggling to process what you just said… You.. and.. Steve?

“Steve?” He almost stammered, face growing hot at what you were implying, did that little asshole actually manage to be with you? You?!? 

“Steve Harrington?” He repeated.

“Yeah,” you hummed, brows scrunching at his dumbfounded expression… What was going on? Was he… jealous?

 “You jealous, Munson?” You giggled with a smirk, brow raised and all bold. So upfront that it has Eddie stammering and blushing all over again. 

“N-no, uh— Steve is my friend is all.” He adds, taking a long drag from the joint to keep himself together, he has to look all confident because he wants to impress you. 

He just doesn’t know that you being all flustered is what draws your attention. Confident but still cute. The exact mix you need for Steve’s arrogance. And they’re friends? Fuck, just the thought of them together has you rubbing your thighs. 

“Oh!” You hum, “That’s funny because I was actually going to go for you, but Steve found me first.” You know the effect that will have on Eddie, you see it in the way he coughs while exhaling the smoke, wetting his lips while he tries to play it cool. 

Sadly, it’s all interrupted by the one and only. Billy fucking Hargrove. 

His hand roughly makes you turn to him before you can comprehend what’s happening, “Fucking Harrington, really?” He spat in your face, nostrils flaring with how angry he was, but all it did was make you want to laugh in his face—the audacity of this little boy. 

Eddie’s quicker than you to react, trying to push him away from you but Billy shakes off his hold. “Get away from her.” Eddie spits. Billy ignores him with a scoff, attention all on you. 

You hate the way your stomach flutters at Eddie being protective, what the fuck are these boys doing to you?

“You kiss Tina in front of everyone, and me fucking Harrington is the problem?”

“You fucked him?” Billy lets out through gritted teeth, technically, you didn’t but it seemed like Billy only thought the two of you kissed. 

Before you could answer he clenched his fists, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.” 

Shit. You really didn’t think this through, did you? 

A guilty feeling settled into your stomach, Steve didn’t deserve that. And he definitely didn’t deserve to get beaten up because of you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed Billy by the arm to stop him from searching for Steve.

“D-don’t!” 

“Excuse me?” Billy said, pinching his brows together.

“Please don’t do anything to him.” Eddie watches everything unravel, taken aback by how willing you are to throw yourself under the bus for Steve. It makes his brows furrow and makes him almost get a glimpse of you, behind that cool facade, behind that whole act. It entices him more and more.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Billy scoffs, “You fuck him one time, and look how pathetic you get. No wonder everyone keeps calling you a slut—”

A loud thud resounds in your ears, you barely register what happened before you turn to see Steve shaking off his fist with a smirk on his face. “Don’t fucking call her that again.” 

Billy chuckles loudly at the impact, blood quickly dripping down his nose and an obvious red mark bruising his cheek. “My my, Harrington coming to defend his new little slut, huh?” 

And this time, another thud of a punch resonated from your side, and you audibly gasp. 

Eddie. 

These boys were going to be the death of you, appearing out of nowhere and then doing shit like this. 

They stood in front of you, arms crossed against their chest as they eyed Billy groaning on the ground, it wasn’t long before Tina came with her annoying shriek and a crowd formed around the four of you, the two boys were quick to drag you out of the party. 

“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you, sweetheart?” Steve muttered in your ear with his lips twitched into a smirk. 

Cocky bastard. 

You gave him a slight smile. “Actually… I was looking for this one,” you hummed sweetly, hand gently nudging Eddie’s shoulder. A grin sat on his lips, he itched to elbow Steve, who just gave him a roll of his eyes. 

“But, thank you, both.” You give them a shy smile, it’s meaningful, and you’re grateful to have them protect you. 

“Anything for our special girl,” Steve winks.

“Want us to take you home?” Eddie interrupts, eyeing you, he can see that you’re a bit shaken up, even though you try to hide it. 

“No need, boys. Can walk home!” You giggle with a wink. 

“We insist.” Steve steps up, leaning into the car, hips jutted out. All slutty, and it’s tempting. But, no. 

You had fucked up enough today and gotten your feelings too involved. You couldn’t do it. 

You gave both of them a sloppy kiss on their cheek before you got on your feet, “My house is just around the corner.” 

“See you around, boys.” You winked one last time, turning back before they could say anything, walking away with a strut as you could almost feel their gaze burn your back. 

Both boys watched you with their jaws almost open, teeth biting onto their bottom lips with hope. They wanted—needed you. 

。°。°。°。°。°

“I’m tellin’ you dude, it was fuckin’ unreal. She was just so good,” Steve hummed into the ice cream he took a stripe of lick from.

Eddie grunted. “Jesus, fuck. Still can’t believe she let you even near her.” He glared daggers into him.

Steve grumbled a chuckle, nudging him. “Jealous much, Munson?” His lips curled into a boyish grin, face inches away from Eddie who was now stammering.

“C’mon, we can share, can’t we big boy?” Steve winked, enjoying the crimson red coloring the curly boy’s puffy cheeks.

“Nothing we haven’t done before,” He hummed, sucking his cheeks with a ‘mmhmm’ sound as the flavors of the strawberry goodness flooded his senses.

They did have threesomes before, but this was different, this was you. It meant so much more to Eddie, and selfishly, he wanted you to himself first, too. 

“If you can even get her,” Steve smirked, knowing if it took him this long, Eddie would have to try for years.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Eddie winked with a new-found confidence

“I’ll turn on the Munson charm.” He snapped his fingers together with a wicked grin, “and she’ll be beggin’ for me in no time.” 

Steve couldn’t even keep the throaty chuckle for a second before he patted Eddie on the back. “Good fuckin’ luck with that.” 

You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but how could you not when they were right fucking in front of you?!

And after Steve said, they had done threesomes before, your mouth watered just at the thought of both boys towering over you, attending to your every need, trying to dominate you but also pathetically begging for more. 

And if you framed everything correctly, they’d want to fuck you and would think they were the ones in charge, not knowing you were the mastermind behind all of it.

“Hi, boys!” You waved with a giggle, rushing to their side as your skirt rode up your thigh, both boys turning their bodies fully to meet you. 

Both of their Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of you—a graphic baby tee showing just enough of your skin, paired with the most perfect skirt Steve has ever seen, and Eddie’s eyes were almost glued to your chest, enjoying the way your breasts jiggled as you walked. 

You couldn’t hide your smirk at their widened eyes, men were so easy. 

They both stammered, and you wished you weren’t enjoying this so fucking much. But, you were. You had to have both of them. 

Letting your tongue swirl around the cone in your hand, you looked up at Eddie. “What flavor is that?” 

“Chocolate,” He replied quickly, “I love chocolate!” You exclaimed, and Eddie grew weak in his knees, gulping and letting his cock strain himself against his zipper. God, he felt like a fucking pervert. 

“Do you wanna try some?” He barely managed to speak clearly and you nodded quickly with a grin, Steve watching it all with a huff. 

Without giving him a chance to do anything, you wrapped your palm around his, giggling while you let the cold silkiness coat your tongue, lapping at it while your focus remained on Eddie’s dark eyes. 

He almost groaned at the sight; you knew that was your cue. “Tastes so delicious, Eds.” You hummed with an exaggerated sound, reveling in the way Eddie blinked quickly to register all of it. 

“Wanna try mine?” Steve’s silky, cocky voice had your attention shifting, you raised a single brow, shrugging. 

“Already tried that, thanks,” Your voice carries a bit of coldness but is still alluring enough to have Steve crave more from you. 

“I don’t think you tried all of it, sweetheart,” His voice still held that cool tone, tongue sticking out to lick a stripe from the cone wrapped around his palm, almost giving you a flashback as rosy lips framed the words so lewd that you had to do something. 

You were quick to tilt your head sideways, leaning in just enough to have your velvety lips against his, Eddie watched in awe, enjoying the way you sucked on Steve’s tongue, letting the sweet strawberry flavor explode your taste buds as exaggerated sounds left your lips as you pulled away, leaving Steve with nothing. 

“Mhmm, you’re right, Stevie,” You hummed, Steve’s face wearing a shock you hadn’t seen before. “But I think mine, tastes so much better…” You cooed facing Eddie, “Wouldn’t you agree, pretty boy?” You directed it at Steve, relishing the dumbfounded look on his face, while Eddie watched all of it with a contented sigh. 

He needed both of you. 

You needed both of them. 

And Steve would do anything for you, and for Eddie, even if he never would explicitly show it. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, bringing a wicked smirk to your face. Easy. 

Before you turned to leave, you faced Eddie, “Oh!” 

“Do you have any free time this afternoon?” If you gave him those eyes and that sweet tone, he’d give you all of his time in the world. 

“Uh-huh, of course.” He's sure his voice sounds so squeaky but you smile at him so sweetly that it melts away all his worries.

“Okay, do you mind if I drop by? I need something to relax, and to let a little bit of my steam off…” You winked at him, you couldn’t be more obvious, and Eddie almost went limp at your words, no need for the Munson charm after all. 

“S-sure!” He exclaimed, mouth curling into a wide grin. 

“See you later, boys.”

。°。°。°。°。°

“Really?” Eddie eyed you with a raise of his brows, getting more and more comfortable the further both of you inhaled from the rolled joint, your knee brushed against his, and his worries ghosted away with it. 

“You think Michael Myers is hot?”

“Yeah!” You nodded, “Too weird for you, Munson?” you nudged him playfully.

“No, no! It’s just… how? He has a mask on,”

With a shrug, “The mask is the appeal,” you giggle. 

He scrunches his brows, confused. “The mystery of the mask is what makes him sexy.” You shrug, and a soft ‘oh!’ escapes his lips. 

He’s quick to ash the joint to the skull resin ashtray, getting up in a rush, causing you to furrow your brows, “what the hell are you doing?”

He turns with a grin, “getting a mask.” 

You giggle at that, “Oh, trust me, you don’t need a mask pretty boy.”

“W-what?” He blinks quickly to process all of it, bringing a wide smile to your lips as you almost drag him by the collar of his shirt. 

Eddie’s almost frozen, his mind explodes at how forward you’re being, pants getting tighter when he realizes how close you are to him. 

It’s finally happening and he can feel himself melt into you, he lets you stripe him of his control and his lips part slightly in surprise. 

Mind struggling to process if this is all real. With a giggle you take him by surprise when you tug your fingertips at his messy curls, twisting his head to the side as you crash your lips down to his. 

Dangerously sweet, addicting, and bold. And Eddie is putty in your hands.

“The prettiest lips,” you hum into his mouth. 

“Yeah?” He almost blushes a rosy color, and you can’t help but relish that feeling, letting it sink to your chest at how beautiful he looks when he’s so flushed, and you realize you need both of them. 

You need Steve’s cockiness, you need Eddie’s tentativeness at the same fucking time. 

And both of their dominance. 

You whimper needily, the feel and taste of his soft lips flood all over your body, making you ache. Holy shit, he’s fucking good. 

“F-fuck,” He whimpers as he pulls back, mind trying to register everything, but he’s quick to dive back in once he realizes he just stopped kissing you. 

A passionate, needy kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, as his hand roughly grabs your waist, pulling you further. You feel hot, skin buzzing at how demanding he is. 

Then he slowly moves from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over, and you can’t help but feel that warm slickness coating your thighs at how fucking needy he is for you. 

And you know exactly what you need to do to lure him in, entirely. 

“N-need you, Eds,” you whine into his lips, brows pinched together and Eddie’s already about to explode in his pants, you’re fucking perfect. 

“Where do you need me, angel?” He asks, all obedient and it has your core throbbing with need. 

Your thighs part slowly, skirt riding up more and more as you expose yourself to him, and Eddie’s teeth drag on his bottom lip at the sight. “Here,” nails rake on the surface of the couch beneath your legs, pussy fully on display. 

He almost groans at the sight, but no, he has to take control back again, he has to impress you. 

And he wants to savor this moment, enjoy you, fully. 

It gives him all the confidence he needs, with a slight push he has you on your back, sprawled on the couch, you’re surprised by the sudden change of control, but anticipation jumps in your insides, not knowing his next move is exciting and you let him enjoy it. 

His hands start to idly run everywhere on your body, all grabby and rough. You don’t know what to expect from him, and it certainly isn’t this, his hold on your hips, breasts, and thighs, enough to leave a mark, still gentle, still attentive but equally rough and it has you almost whining out. 

He’s perfect. 

“Needy baby,” He hums, planting a sloppy kiss on your neck. “What do you need… my fingers or my tongue?” 

You shamelessly spread your legs further, enjoying his weight on top of you, hard bulge pressing against your thigh, but you need more. “Both.” 

And your whiny answer is all he needs, his rough hands travel down to your inner thighs, almost toying as he drags his mouth all over you. Nibbling and biting all over your neck, shoulder, breasts, everywhere. 

He’s quick to drop down between your legs, and he groans at the sight of your puffy lips and dampened thighs, “Jesus Christ…” His teeth draw on his bottom lip.

“No panties?” 

“Nuh-uh,” you giggle shamelessly, and he’s almost fucking gone. The fabric of his pants so painfully harsh against his erected cock that he hisses. 

Your legs quiver when he traces a finger around your opening teasingly and his mouth is pressing kisses down your inner thigh, sloppy and filthy. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he hums into you. 

Your little whimpers and the sight of you so relaxed make Eddie a madman, he understands Steve’s non-stop blabbing about you the last few days, granted, he always knew you were perfect. 

But once he gets a taste of this, and a sight of you like this, he knows he can’t fucking quit, ever. 

“More.” You hiss out a breath as his fingertips gently circle your clit. It’s demanding, and Eddie’s amber gaze is dark as it meets yours. “Behave,” He warns, it’s electrifying, making you want to disobey more than anything, everything about him draws you in. 

With a smirk, you run your hand down his arms, meeting his fingertips with a gaze so dangerously lewd that Eddie’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head. “But I’m aching… I need so much more.” 

He groans, loudly. “So fucking needy, aren’t you? Only for me, huh?” 

He wants reassurance, he wants you to tell him he’s better than Steve. And you don’t, because you need both of them, so you just tease him enough, just so both of them could get the idea of proving themselves to you. 

You could just imagine them both taking turns, trying to prove to you which one would make you cum more, complementing each other, striping you out of your control, just for that one second, not knowing that you planned all of it.

It’s sick, a bit deranged, and stupid. But exactly what you need.

“Mhmm, only for you, baby.” 

Endearing words have him quick to push two fingers inside of you, still agonizingly slow, withdrawing a breath when he feels your slick walls. 

His fingers slowly go in and out of you, the suspenseful score from the movie almost mirrors your heartbeat, rising each time he gives you a grin, basking in your whines. 

“Look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he praises, enjoying how your lips part slightly, pretty whines coming out of it. He circles your clit at a slow pace, still. Relishing in the way his name slips past your mouth so desperately, almost begging. 

He presses a light kiss to your clit, and you shudder at the impact, gazing down at him, “You like the way I look between your pretty thighs?” He hums into your walls. 

“Yes,” You coo, and he doesn’t hesitate to dive in, parting your cunt with his thumb before his tongue is teasingly lapping up at you. 

It’s all so filthy and intimate that you immediately squeeze your eyes shut, his fingers, his tongue, it’s all too much but at the same time not enough. 

You need him, you need more from him. It’s just not enough. 

“Makin’ prettiest noises for me, such a good girl, aren’t ya?” You hum excitedly, all fucked out as you grind yourself on his mouth, you don’t know what it is, but you can’t help yourself, fingertips latched onto his curls, head thrown back, you feel like screaming. 

And he’s torturously slow, giving you everything you need but not fully everything, withdrawing just a little to have you go crazy. And it’s fucking working, his tongue works wonders inside of your walls, his name falling like a prayer from your lips. 

Not fucking enough. And it’s frustrating, to feel so on edge. 

You shouldn’t do this, you shouldn’t beg for more, but you can’t help it, it’s all hazy and you want more, it’s like you’ve been deprived, and he feels so fucking good. 

And maybe, you letting Eddie fuck you could drive Steve further, you could just imagine the scorched face on Steve’s look when he found out, and you want that mean side of him. You want him to compete for your attention, you want him to stripe you out of your control, for once in your fucking life.

You try to drag at his curls to feel his tongue more and more, flicking at your clit agonizingly slow but he slaps your hand away, warning you with his dark gaze. 

“I need more,” you pout, looking down at him all doe-eyed. 

“Need you to fuck me,” you whine with a hidden smirk, Eddie’s eyes flashing a hunger that has you all excited in your tummy.  

“Needy little slut,” he murmurs in your ear. “Steve wasn’t enough for you?” You love the newfound confidence in him, the sudden change in his tone, the darker his eyes get, the way he cooes has you dripping with need. 

You shake your head with a giggle, “Steve didn’t fuck me.” 

“What?” That brings an unintentional grin to his lips. You didn’t let Steve fuck you but you were going to let Eddie fuck you? Oh, he could just cum in his pants right then and there. 

You? Begging to be fucked by him? He was in heaven, and you were the prettiest angel. 

“No wonder, he can’t fucking shut up about you,” 

So your plan was working. 

“I don’t blame him, angel. I wouldn’t be able to quit you right after I tasted you either, so fucking perfect, hmm?” He gives you a dazzlingly addicting kiss, lips tasting like you and you hum into it. 

You try to pull him closer by his shirt, but he doesn’t let you, making you pout innocently at him. “I need you.” You don’t know how he has you like this, and you try to make your brain believe that this was your plan, but you wholeheartedly want this, you want him to fuck your brains out. You want him to make you cum until you physically can’t anymore. 

A possessive look sits on his face, gaze all dangerous and it has you wanting more, “You have me.” A wicked grin overturns on his lips, he’s quick to get rid of his clothes, almost ripping open your blouse. Fingertips brush over your skin with such passion that it almost burns.

He groans at the sight of your breasts, hands itching to grab them, mouth watering at the sight. “So.” A kiss on your breasts, “fucking”, a nibble, “perfect.” His hands grabbed everywhere, mind reveling in everything.

Still struggling to realize if this was all real or not. He was hooked, so fucking hooked. 

He couldn’t blame Steve for not shutting up about you, you were addicting. He was right, maybe the two of you could share. He wouldn’t be opposed to it at all, if there was one thing the three of you were good at, it was this. 

“That stays on.” He hums against your chest, fingers sliding over the tight little skirt you were wearing, flipping it over to your stomach but not taking it off.  

You were whining like a bitch in heat now, eagerly watching him take off his cock from his already wet boxers, patches of pre-cum had formed on it and you couldn’t help the delicious smirk on your face. 

With a painful groan, his cock slipped past his boxers, and your eyes widened at the sight. 

Salmon pink tip pearled with his pre-cum, looking so delicious that your mouth involuntarily opened at it, he was almost as big as Steve, only thicker, and slightly more curved to the left, perfect, just fucking perfect. 

You understood his cockiness when it came to this, he was absolutely packing and by the way he had been acting, you could tell he knew how to fucking use it. 

He leaned back slightly, still positioned between your thighs before he took his cock in his hand, with a dangerous gaze, he jerked at it, letting out a small groan with a sly smirk. 

You could feel your thighs dampening when he circled the angry tip over your clit. “That feels good, doesn’t it, angel?” Mocking, cruel, teasing. And you loved every fucking second of it. 

“Y-yeah,” You murmur, eyes squeezed shut, your thighs are almost shaking and he’s watching you with a smirk, it’s all too sensitive and everything he does gives you an electrifying pleasure that you haven’t felt before. 

Shutting up all the avoidant voices in your head that tell you you shouldn’t be doing this. Your thoughts and your body is consumed by pleasure as you hazily look down, his hand still on his cock while he drags it down through your folds. The tip of his pink slit parts you slightly, enjoying the way you’re gushing for him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ… look at this cunt… just soaked for me,” he growls and lines his throbbing cock at your entrance, a loud needy moan escapes your lips, making him gloat.

“Look at how greedy your pussy is, angel… practically pulling me in.” He teases, cock still dragging along your folds, and you are about to embarrassingly beg, before he finally drives his cock the rest of the way into your aching cunt, “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” He groans loudly, his moans deliciously lewd. And your whines are mixed with his. 

His hands are everywhere, rough, and grabby, almost like they are marking you. His hips thrust further into you fucking all of your worries away. 

“Look how well you’re takin’ me, doll.” He hums, eagerly watching the way his cock disappears in and out of your soppy walls, mouth hanging open as curses slip past it at each of his movements. 

“Eddie…” You whimper, you can’t focus, you can’t even fucking think. Your brain is short-circuiting by how good everything he feels, how he is hitting that one spot and is stretching you wider and wider, and you are doing everything you can to adjust to his size. 

“What d’ya need, baby?” He coos mockingly.

He’s so much more cocky now, and he has earned it because he’s that good and you’re awfully pathetic for him. 

You want to speak, but it’s almost as if you’re unable to, it’s frustrating, and Eddie is loving every second of it. 

“Awww, so cock drunk that you can’t even speak, princess?” Another harsh thrust has you whining and squirming. 

“You need more, baby? Need me deeper inside of this tight little cunt?” He hums, cock slamming inside of you so agonizingly slow that it has you moaning for more, you’re simply fucked out and he’s too far gone. 

“Need me to stretch it out with my big cock?” You nod so quickly that your head almost falls off, and Eddie’s chuckle reverberates loudly, echoing in the room with your whimpers. 

“Greedy little slut.” He picks up his pace, and you’re fully lost in desire now, clinging to him as each of his thrusts pushes you closer and closer, he’s filling you to the brim and it nearly has you sobbing beneath him. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Fuckin’ soaked for me and this tight cunt was just made for my cock, wasn’t it?” He growls against your neck, licking a path from your collarbone to the shell of your ear, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

Your eyes are squeezed shut, head thrown back in full euphoria while he thrusts in and out of you, setting a hard, brutal pace. Teeth sucking into your shoulder to slow himself down, to stop the release he can feel building.

Incoherent babbles are all that leave your lips, you can feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach, “Y-yes, yes!” You whine, “I’m close, baby.” You lift your hips, trying to grind it against his cock to get more friction. 

It’s all filthy and desperate and it has Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re so fucking perfect for him and you stick to his mind. 

This image of you, begging, his name falling from your swollen lips, all fucked out and spread for him. It’s doing the best fucking damage to his mind and he can’t get enough of you. 

“You gonna cum for me, honey? Wanna soak my cock?” His words are so lewd and it has you nodding like an idiot, you want him to cum with you, you need to feel him inside of you. Filling every fucking inch of you. 

He can feel your pussy clamping around him, it’s all glorious and he wants nothing more than to engrave this image of you to his brain. He wants Steve to know, how you were mewling for him. “Cum for me, angel.” He praises, slamming inside of you deeper than before, thrusts getting sloppier the more he sees how close you are. 

He wants nothing more than to last, but your whimpers, the way you take him in, your mouth hanging open, it’s all fucking too much, and he knows if you give him one more whine or one more filthy talk he’s going to explode. 

You writhe under him, so painfully good, but fucking impossible to hold yourself back once his thumb circles around your clit.

“W-want you to cum, too. Need to feel you i-inside.” You encourage him, and he groans at the idea of cumming together with you, balls drawing up and ready to fill your insides. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby,” He growls, slamming into you once, twice, thrice. “If you say shit like that I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck, baby!” He can feel his cock filling you to the brim, hitting that sensitive spot one last fucking time and you know it’s over.

“Cum for me, pretty boy.” You cry out as you orgasm, pleasure shooting through your already hazy mind, and that’s all the encouragement Eddie needs before he chases his own release. 

He pounds into you one final time, deeper and harder, in a frenzy with how badly he needs to cum inside of you. With a few ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s, and ‘so f-fucking perfect’s he growls your name as he fills you up. Not slipping out until he’s sure you’re filled full of him. 

He collapses next to you with a sigh of breath, a sloppy kiss on your shoulder as he’s trying to register what the fuck just happened. 

You don’t give him a minute to breathe when you quickly get up, collecting your blouse as you ignore the confused look on his face. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Getting ready?” You answer with a giggle. 

“What for?” 

“To leave, pretty boy.”

“B-but we just-” 

He sounded so adorable, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall into a mess of feelings, and yet without knowing, you were already walking right into it. 

“I’m going to this thing at The Hideout today.” You murmured while fixing your skirt and hair in the mirror. Skirt creased and hair all chaotic. You thought you looked a fucking mess, but Eddie would argue that's the prettiest you looked.

Ruined by him.

“There’s this band—”

“Corroded Coffin?” Eddie replied quickly. 

“How did you know?” You turned with a raised brow, intrigued. 

“You’re looking at their lead singer, sweetheart.” He replied smugly, a grin sitting on his plump lips. 

“Oh my god!” You said in a mock screeching voice, “Can I please get your autograph, Mr. Rockstar?” You batted your eyelashes with a twirl of your hair, giggling when he narrowed his gaze at you. 

“You’re lucky, you’re so pretty, huh?” You shouldn’t have felt your cheeks heat at the comment because he just fucked your brains out, but shit was he smooth. Making you blush with one fucking compliment. You were way too deep into this, weren’t you?

“So you listened to our stuff?” He asked, with a beaming smile on his face, too cocky. And it killed you to tell him you didn’t when he had the most adorable look on his face. 

“No, but, this might be a great first listening experience.” You hummed, “So make sure you don’t suck, Mr. Rockstar.” Your hand turned the doorknob when you threw him a wink. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will rock your fuckin’ world," He returned the wink. “Again.” He said with a smug smile and a cool tone. 

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, “Oh, and make sure to invite Steve too.” You hummed nonchalantly as Eddie nodded, almost obediently.

He would do anything you asked him to. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted to go, because it was never any good to fuck the same guy twice, especially with someone like Steve who just slept around, or someone like Eddie who wore his heart on his sleeve. It would either end with your heart broken or theirs. Things always got too messy.

But both of them were just so… good. And you had this opportunity to have both of them.

How were you supposed to hold yourself back? 

。°。°。°。°。°

“No fucking way.” Steve said exasperatedly, shaking his head and denying what Eddie told him for the hundredth time. 

Eddie groaned, growing frustrated, “Yes fucking way, dude, ask her!” 

“Ask her what, whether you fucked her or not?” Steve narrowed his gaze when he turned to him, words laced with bitterness, if Eddie didn't know him better he'd say Steve was jealous. 

And he was.

“Yeah, because I did, and she fucking loved it.” 

“Bullshit.” Steve spat, his face still wearing a shocked look that had Eddie grinning. 

His mind was almost spiraling, that insecurity he felt years ago almost returning and the image was quick to shatter. Why didn’t you want him? Why did you want Eddie? 

“C’mon, Stevie,” He elbowed Steve playfully, enjoying this. Steve gloated for days about you, for days. And now he had something bigger to tease him with.

Because you, who rejected every idiotic boy in this town, who even rejected 'King Steve' begged for Eddie. And he couldn't help but bask in that, especially to annoy Steve further. “Don’t be jealous, I thought you said we could share.” Eddie grinned like an idiot, brushing his shoulder against his teasingly.

And it was getting to Steve, the idea that you didn’t want him. Like you could see right through his King Steve bullshit. “Fuck you, man.” 

“So, what? You can have her, but I can’t?” He said with a little bitterness spilling out, eyeing Steve. 

“No, dude, just—” Steve sighed, “I can’t fucking get my mind off of her.” He mumbled, almost embarrassed.

“Neither can I!”

“So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Desperate, pathetic, and horny. Ironically, that’s how you were feeling too, without knowing that’s exactly what the boys were feeling too. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered.” Steve looked at Eddie with a narrowed gaze.

“She’s coming to the show tonight,” Eddie hummed excitedly, “and she asked me to invite you too.”

Holy shit. That brought a saccharine smile on Steve’s face, it was stupid, to be so excited over something like this. But that meant you did want him. Stirring his stomach in the best and worst way possible, he wanted to shake it off, but he fucking couldn’t.

Jesus fucking Christ. What were you doing to him?

“Dude, do you realize what that means?” 

“What?” Eddie inquired. 

“Oh my sweet, sweet, Munson…” Steve tssked, “She wants both of us.”

“Oh, shit.” The realization was slow to hit Eddie, his mind still replaying what happened with you over and over again. “Wait you— uh, you’re okay with that?” Eddie asked, almost nervous. 

“Yeah, dude, why wouldn’t I be?” Steve shrugged carelessly, it wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but Eddie still felt nervous, because this time it did feel different, with both of you. 

“Besides we can’t keep our girl depraved now, can we?” 

[norris55s]

reputation - lando norris

pop star reader x lando norris social media au

part two - part three

a/n: lando did a very reputation-like helmet and the hamster in my brain started working. rep's songs are also very lando coded to me. faceclaim is soyeon from (G)I-dle

requests are open, but i may get to them late because uni is kicking my ass!

————————————————————————

f1waggossip

f1waggossip: McLaren’s golden boy seems to be newly single… at least that’s what the streets say, considering his last girlfriend, pop star Y/N L/N, has not been seen in months at the paddock following a very public fall out with her former girl squad, and consequent fall from grace from everyone’s eyes. They seemed in love. What do you think?

landonorrizz: honestly, i never understood the hype for her. she has always been a red flag and dramatic!!

mercedesgarage: i don’t get it lol i don’t follow her, what happened?

455chilli: basically she was friends with other singers, models and actresses and they have recently unfollowed her and exposed her for not being as great as everyone thinks

y/nforever: you mean she had a friend group who turned on her out of nowhere? lol what her ex friends have said is based on jealousy

landostareyes: it seems like they broke up but they were really cute together :// i kinda feel bad but she also seems to be the problem

————————————————————————

landonorris

landonorris: p2 cake babyyyyyyyyy

supremey/n: that is my y/n if i’ve ever seen her

formulaonegirl: so they’re still together

carlandocontent: it could be any girl tbh, it’s been months since lando has even mentioned her

papayaheart: it’s even worse if they’re still together and she just won’t show up to support him in races anymore lol

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

y/nusername

y/nusername: Reputation. Out November 17.

Comments have been disabled.

————————————————————————

landonorris

landonorris: Are you ready for it? Reputation out November 17.

y/nlandodefender: nothing has ever been as iconic as a Y/N comeback special helmet i am in tears

landolove: reputation helmet to beat the breakup allegations wasn’t on my bingo card

supremey/n: I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

f1waggossip

f1waggossip: Y/N re-debuts at the paddock.

y/naura: ohhhhhhh i know some of y'all are MAD but my girl will stay thriving with the album of the year

softlylando: came back with a bang, goddamnnnn

mclarengirly: lando is definitely bagging a podium for her today!!

————————————————————————

landonorris

landonorris: i like her for her

y/nusername: Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me. 🖤

ferrariheart: shut up this is so cute

norrisreputation: mans really said we've been together all this time LMAO

babyfaceoscar: where is everyone who was calling her a red flag and saying her and lando didn't belong together?

dailylando: been real quiet since reputation dropped

magicy/n: i woulda stfu too after she released something like call it what you want, nevermind lando's promotion helmet LMAO

————————————————————————

y/nusername

y/nusername: The Reputation World Tour officially began and I can’t thank you enough for showing up for me, when I thought I couldn’t even show up for myself. I might make the same mistakes, burn bridges and never learn, but I know I did one thing right: have the best, most loyal fans. Also, it seems right to thank the man who inspired me to write way too many love songs for this album, the king of my heart, landonorris. 🖤

landonorris: i believe i was also called gorgeous and stuff

y/nusername: I am truly never complimenting you again

[iamasaddie]

tired

paring: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago word count: 2.6k masterlist

Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it. 

Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.  

Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight. 

That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.

You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.

“Hey, Joel, long night?” 

Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.

You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly. 

“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.

“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“

“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”

He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.

“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”

You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”

He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up. 

Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t. 

“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze. 

“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight. 

“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”

You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears. 

You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.

“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.

Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.

“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath. 

When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.

“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”

Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.

"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”

“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”

Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.

As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.

You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”

“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”

Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.

His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.

“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch. 

You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.

“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.

“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.

When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.

Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.

“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.

Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.

Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.

One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.

The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.

“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did. 

The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.

Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.

His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.

“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.

“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.

Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.

“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Old Money, Bratty Honey

pairing: bodyguard!Wonwoo x heiress!reader x bodyguard!Vernon

genre: smut - minors dni.

warnings: car sex (a limo specifically), public sex (the windows are tinted but still), mean dom!wonwoo, switch!vernon, brat!reader, sir kink, edging, hair pulling, blowjobs, facefucking, degradation, masturbation, voyeurism, cum swallowing, reader is rich and spoiled (yk how the rest goes)

requested by @onlymingyus

word count: 1.7k

summary: being born in money gives you the chance to try pretty much everything in the world - that includes fucking your two hot bodyguards in your dad's limousine.

Author's note: hello <3 this fic was requested by beloved mars - the unesco forum pics did a LOT of damage

tagging: @gyuwoncheol @wonwussy bcs they asked to suffer so here we are

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Do you remember your speech?”

“Tch, of course I do.” You roll your eyes. “I wrote it myself, remember?”

“I know you did. Just wanted to check whether your brain cells are still active.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Unlucky for you, they are very much intact and in better shape than yours.” You bite back.

“Is there any time of any day where the two of you don’t argue?” Vernon groans from behind you. “Can we just…enjoy the little time we have left until we arrive at the venue?”

“Mmm, of course we can, Nonie.” You turn your attention to your other bodyguard. “He’s never fun, either way. But you are way more fun, right?” You make yourself comfortable in his lap, your manicured hands smoothing over his chest.

“Anything for you, honey. You know me.” Vernon smirks and leans in the crevice of your neck, lips and tongue gliding over your skin.

Wonwoo sighs in defeat and averts his eyes from the unfolding scene, trying to ignore it. 

If it wasn’t for the hefty salary that gets deposited every month in his bank account, he wouldn’t even be here. He would rather be walking at a dingy bar, rather than have to babysit a rich brat like you. 

And the worst thing of all? You’re smart and hot as fuck - to the point where he wants to stuff your mouth full of his dick and make you cry.

You’re aware of how uptight and cold Wonwoo is towards you and you can’t really blame him for his attitude - being head of security under your dad basically requires that attitude. Which makes messing around with him even more fun for you.

Vernon, on the other hand, is your assigned personal bodyguard and would fold in half for you, if you asked him to. One bat of your eyelashes is enough to make him cave to any request of yours, thus giving you the perfect cover for your night escapades.

But of course, he always gets rewarded for his secrecy and faith to you - in the form of letting him fuck you dumb more than often.

This is one of the occasions where you want to mess around with both of them at the same time.

You throw the fabric of your gown backwards to uncover your legs and give yourself enough space to grind your clothed pussy over Vernon’s slacks. 

“Careful with your gown, honey.” He reminds you.

“It’s just fabric, I could have tens of that.” You grin towards him.

“How rich and bratty, coming from you.” Wonwoo comments with a venomous tone.

“Yeah, that’s because I am rich, bratty, pretty and smart and you want to fuck me so bad.” You reply boldly.

He slides next to Vernon and grips your jaw with his right hand, keeping it steady directly in front of his face.

“You’re right, little bitch. I want to fuck the brat out of you, to the point you’re crying and begging me to stop.” His voice feels deeper and colder than the ocean, his eyes burning holes in your skull through his horn-rimmed glasses.

You almost hate how hot and fuckable Wonwoo looks today - but you’ve always wanted to know what’s hidden under his professional attire.

“I would like to see you try, you fucking nerd. I bet you’re still a virgin-”

He cuts you off by dragging you off Vernon’s lap and pushes you down on your knees, between his thighs.

“Dude, what the hell!” Vernon glares at the older man.

“Shut the fuck up, Vernon. You have gotten plenty of time with her since you got your job. Now sit back and watch.” Wonwoo orders him as he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring free.

Your eyes widen at the size and it makes your mouth fill with saliva and your pussy dampens your Victoria’s Secret panties.

“Tell me, Vernon - Does the pretty brat over here like to suck dick?” Wonwoo asks with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he runs his fist over his shaft.

“Y-Yeah, she does.” The younger man stutters.

“Does she swallow?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Yes what, Vernon?”

“Yes s-sir.”

“Hm, at least one of you can behave.” Wonwoo turns his attention to you again.

“Enjoying the power trip, Wonwoo?” You place your hands over his thighs, rubbing them up and down.

“It’s Sir for you, little brat.” He puts his hand behind your neck and brings your face close enough to let his cock slap against your cheek. “Now put your smartass mouth to good use, will you?”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You rile him up even more.

Wonwoo threads his hands in the back of your hair and forcefully slides his cock in your mouth. You gag when the tip hits your throat, but you manage to suppress your reflex with ease.

“Fuck, honey…” Vernon curses under his breath and starts palming himself over his pants.

“No need to be jealous, Vernon - I’m sure you have experienced this already, right?” Wonwoo chuckles as he uses your hair as leverage to fuck your face.

“I could get used to this, Y/N - this cock-stuffed version of yours is quite likable.”

You grunt in response and purposefully drag your teeth over his cock, eliciting a hiss from him. He drags you off his cock and pulls you upwards, forcing your back to arch.

“Do that one more time and your daddy will find out his precious daughter is a fucking slut.” He threatens you.

“You don’t want to do this, Sir.” You slur the title on purpose. “You’ll be at loss in the end, especially after fucking me like you wanted to,” you grip his wrist, “So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you fuck me stupid. How does that sound?” You grin.

“Little bitch.” Wonwoo scoffs and puts your mouth back on his cock.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look so damn pretty.” Vernon moans on the side, his own pants long unbuttoned, hand stroking his pre-cum coated dick. 

Your eyes flit to the younger man and you send him a wink, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo.

“Eyes on me, brat. And you,” he snaps his head towards Vernon, “You better not fucking cum until I say so.”

“S-Sir, I won’t-”

“Don’t. Fucking. Cum.” He repeats with something akin to a growl.

“Fuck, I won’t!” Vernon whines in defeat, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his hand slowing down to keep himself on edge.

You moan around Wonwoo’s cock, nails digging in the fabric of his pants as you hollow your cheeks and do your best to bring him closer to his orgasm.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum- You better swallow every last drop like you do with him, princess.” 

You bat your eyelashes to let him know you’re ready and he presses your head until you’ve taken him till the base. You can feel the saltiness of his cum coursing down your throat. You pin your eyes on Wonwoo and stare at him until you’ve sucked his cock clean, swallowing till the last drop.

He retracts his hand and lets you get off his lap, whispering a few words in your ear, low enough to not be heard by anyone else.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I really need to fucking cum and I don’t want to bust my nut all over the suit.” Vernon half moans, hand gripping his cock tight.

You move between his legs with a sultry smile and engulf his cock with your mouth. It only takes him a few harsh sucking motions of your lips to make him cum, a string of heavy breaths and moans coming out of his mouth.

You release his shaft with an obscene popping sound, opening your mouth to show him the amount of cum in it. You swallow it in one gulp, licking your lips clean.

“Filthy little slut.” Wonwoo clicks his tongue as he tucks himself back in.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Vernon clears his throat and tidies himself as well.

“That was definitely fun,” you sit back on the leather seats and open your purse to take out a pack of wet wipes and clean your hands. A small hair brush follows right after and you fix your hair, as if they were never touched in the first place.

“How is your makeup still intact?” Vernon asks you with narrowed eyes.

“Ever heard of waterproof makeup?” You side eye him.

“As long as Daddy is paying, everything must be on point for his pretty little heiress.” Wonwoo comments. “We’re here, be ready.”

“No need to remind me of my job, Wonwoo.”

As soon as he opens the door of the limousine to help you out, you’re welcomed with countless flashing cameras and microphones shoved in your way, but Vernon rushes next to your side to keep them at a safe distance. 

You put on your finest smile for the cameras, knowing which way to turn your head so the gossip magazines will have only your best shots. 

The noises of the crowd are drowned out once the three of you enter the venue of the gala and your bodyguards double check that everything is okay and you can proceed.

“How ironic to see the two of you being so professional while you were cumming like highschool boys just a few minutes ago.” You giggle.

“How ironic to see you acting like a proper lady after sucking off your security entourage in your daddy’s limousine like a cheap whore.” Wonwoo smirks and you fight back the urge to hit his head with your purse, as you walk over to the table with your assigned seat.

“You didn’t have to be so sassy about it.” Vernon covers his mouth to hide his grin.

“And you should have been more discreet with your visits in her room.” Wonwoo almost snaps at him with a stern look on his face.

“You’re not actually gonna snitch, are you?” The younger man looks at him partially horrified.

Wonwoo’s lips curl in a dirty smirk and he leans into Vernon’s ear.

“As long as you’re willing to stand guard in front of her door all night long while I’m teaching the little brat some manners, then your dirty secret is safe with me.”

Vernon pokes his cheek with his tongue, wishing he was able to shove his fist in Wonwoo’s face.

“So? Are you willing to do that, Chwe?”

“.....Yes sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

[mionemymind]

Blood Drive

Summary: While donating at a local blood drive, Y/n stumbles up the best nurse in town, Wanda Maximoff. Unable to get Wanda out of her mind, Y/n goes through a lengthy process just to ask her out.

Warnings: Fluff, Blood Donations, Passing Out, Needles, Happy Ending

A/n: Not gonna lie, I think it's somewhat getting easier to write kissing scenes but I still have to look at a tumblr post just to figure out the wording for it. Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 4.0k

Masterlist

In an era of new politics, the Mayor of New York City declared that registered heroes of the city had to do mandated community service. This was a new mission to help build relationships between the regular folk of New York City and the heroes that harbor it. Because let’s be honest, having Hulk throw your new car at the enemy was not the best introduction for regular people. 

Those who harbored powers relaying force or strength helped out in the trade industry. You’d often see super soldiers helping out in the demolition zone by crushing what was needed. Those with magic tried their best to help heal the homeless or aided at soup kitchens. Anywhere you can unconventionally help, the heroes did. 

For Y/n, it was a lot of physically demanding tasks. Such as helping families move from apartment to apartment. Or helping police officers move accidents out of the way. Sometimes, she would even demonstrate how to safely carry a person through a burning building for the local firefighters. 

Today, however, Y/n decided to do something different. Rather than focusing on the same physical tasks, she chose a simpler mundane task. “Hi there, are you here for the blood drive?” Y/n nodded in agreement to the receptionist upfront. “Just sign in for me right here. Have you filled out the online rapid pass?”

“Yes, I have the QR code screenshotted.” The receptionist smiled warmly. “Perfect. Someone will be with you soon. Please have a seat in our waiting area.” 

Y/n walked towards the waiting room area. This was the fourth thing on her list of community service opportunities to try. She wasn’t quite sure if her blood was even allowed to be donated, having the super soldier serum in her surely could cause a reaction to a regular human. 

After some tests back at the compound, the staff found everything to be okay. That’s how Y/n ended up in a place like this. 

“Y/n Y/l/n.” Getting up from her seat, Y/n followed a nurse in red scrubs to a different area. “How are you today?” 

“I’m good. I'm a little nervous. I’ve never done this before.” The nurse led them to a private part of a huge common room. Multiple stations were built throughout with various people donating blood. “It’s okay to be nervous, but the worst feeling you’ll get today is just a small prick.”

Y/n breathed out slightly in relief. “Let me first get your basic information.” The nurse had gone over Y/n’s personal information but was immediately flagged by the date of birth. “It says you were born on April 2, 1917. It must’ve been a typo.”

The nurse almost changed it to 1971. “Actually ma’am, that is the correct birth date.” 

“So you mean to tell me you were born during World War I?” The nurse was unwilling to believe the joke that was being played. Y/n could immediately tell from the look she gave. “It was the Great War at the time, but yes ma’am I was born in 1917. I’m actually a super soldier.”

The nurse went back to her computer and typed in more information to store on Y/n’s file. “Ah - I see. I’m sorry about that. There’s already a note on your file. It looks like your director has already approved your donation today.” 

Y/n sighed in relief, while she didn’t mind explaining to people her situation of being frozen for so long, it was strenuous trying to get them to understand it all. The rest of the consultation went along smoothly as she gathered the remaining information such as Y/n’s hemoglobin and her rapid pass. 

“Alright dear, let’s get you to a bed.” The nurse led them back to the common area where all the beds were laid out. “Just sit right here for me, right now we currently have a special volunteer today that’s helping out with the drive. She’ll come over in a couple of seconds to help you out. But if you have any questions, please feel free to let us know.” 

Y/n sat up on the reclined bed and looked at her phone. She scrolled through her messages to make sure nothing important was happening. The sound of someone clearing their throat gained her attention. “Y/n?” As Y/n looked up, she could physically feel the moment that time stopped again. Was it possible that she fell back into the ice again? Surely she would feel the same numbness as before. But it was all different. Because from just one look from this girl would be enough to melt all the ice away. 

Y/n’s breath hitched as she locked eyes with her. “I- yes, that’s me.” Y/n cleared her throat, embarrassed at the lack of composure she had. 

“Nice to meet you today. My name is Wanda Maximoff and I’ll be helping you with your blood donation today.” All Y/n could do was nod as she further realized that the woman in front of her was the Scarlet Witch. 

Wanda looked through her notes on the clipboard. “It looks like it’s your first time donating, is that true?” Y/n’s eyes remained locked on Wanda. It was embarrassing how much she couldn’t look away. “Uh yes. It is.”

“Do you have a preference on which arm you would like to use today?” Y/n shook her head in disagreement. “No preference at all.” 

Wanda wrote down more information when a note caught her eye. “S.H.I.E.L.D. approval - are you a member?” Wanda looked over at the young girl in front of her trying to see if she could remember the pretty face.

“I’m one of their new recruits. Only been active for three months.” And suddenly, Y/n seemed to never mind all the questions that Wanda could possibly ask. If it meant talking to her, Y/n would oblige. 

“That’s great to hear. If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any powers that we should be aware of?” 

“Well, I think you’re aware of my counterpart, Bucky Barnes. We both have a super soldier serum.” Wanda smiled at the mention of her old teammate/acquaintance.

 “Interesting. How come I haven’t heard about you before?” Wanda couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow she had managed to miss this girl for three months. 

Y/n scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. “You know how Steve was found in ice right?” Wanda nodded. “That’s basically the same situation I was in but rather than crashing into the arctic, I was in a freezer chamber. I’ve been awake for only ten months.” The shock on Wanda’s face was apparent. 

“Sorry to keep asking,” Y/n never minded, “how has it been like adjusting back to the new life?” Y/n shrugged indifferently. 

“A little rough. I do miss my friends back from my time, but Bucky has been trying his best to help me. However, he has been focused on helping the new Captain America, Sam?”

Wanda nodded, confirming that Y/n’s information was correct. “I do enjoy the fact that I’m no longer Hydra’s soldier though. More than anything, I’m just glad to have a second chance in life. Not a lot of people get that so I’m pretty thankful.”

Wanda digested Y/n’s words and was pretty enlightened at Y/n’s outlook on life. “Thank you for answering all my questions.”

“It’s no problem.” 

“Now, let's get you set up to donate.” Wanda proceeded to bring out a couple of items from the nearby stand. On the table beside Y/n, Wanda placed various tubes and empty bags. Although it was nothing, the sight made Y/n feel slightly uncomfortable. It reminded her too much of Hydra’s labs but minus the dark atmosphere and torture that came with it. 

As if sensing her discomfort, Wanda grabbed a disinfectant and started to disinfect Y/n’s left arm around the area inside her elbow. “Ya know, for being so nice and cooperative. How about you ask me a couple of questions? It makes the day go by faster.” 

Bringing herself out of her internal thoughts, Y/n asked the first thing that came to mind. “You’re the Scarlet Witch, right?”

It was Wanda’s turn to blush. She hadn’t expected Y/n to recognize her so quickly, especially since she just got back to the real world.  “I am.”

“I wasn’t aware that you could help with the American Red Cross as part of your community service.” Wanda grabbed a marker and a squeezable toy. She placed the toy in Y/n’s left hand stating, “Give me three big squeezes and hold on the last squeeze.”

While pressing around Y/n’s elbow, she continued with, “I had to do some training to get qualified. A lot of the people who use magic generally help in other areas.” Wanda marked a dot followed by a line. “You can stop squeezing now.”

“I’m gonna disinfect one more time and then I’ll have to poke you. Are you scared of needles?” Feeling more embarrassed, Y/n looked away as she said, “Yes.” 

“All good. Just means I’ll have to give you a small distraction.” Wanting to distract herself even more, Y/n asked, “Why did you decide to do this rather than something in your wheelhouse?”

Wanda thought about it before replying with, “I like the normalcy of it. On the plus side, it feels more rewarding. Like I’m actually earning my community time rather than going the easy way of using my powers.” As Wanda finished disinfecting, she blew on Y/n’s elbow hoping it would dry fast. 

“When I give you the go-ahead, I’ll have to ask you to give me three more squeezes and hold on to the last one, okay?” Y/n nodded and waited for the signal. 

“And - go.” Y/n did as told, but as she did her last squeeze and held, red wispy magic flowed in front of her morphing into swirls in the air. “Woah.” She followed the magic with her eyes, not even noticing that Wanda had already poked her and started the transfusion. 

“Should be about 10 minutes. Every couple of seconds give the toy a small squeeze to keep it going.” Y/n glanced away from the magic amazed with Wanda. “That didn’t even hurt.” For the first time in Y/n’s life, she didn’t scream when the needles came. 

Wanda couldn’t help but keep the magic up for a little longer. The dopey look on Y/n’s face was something she didn’t want to go away. 

“I told you I would distract you.” Y/n was at a loss of words. Her brain jumbled for anything but all she could focus on was that Wanda Maximoff successfully distracted her. She had a natural caring heart, something the media failed to show. 

“Your magic is beautiful by the way.” Y/n savored the last few seconds of it before it completely disappeared. 

Wanda’s magic has been called many things in life, powerful, destructive, and manipulative but none have ever said beautiful…till now. “Thank you Y/n.” 

There was a small silence as Wanda stayed to make sure Y/n was okay. “I’ll be assisting other volunteers, but if you start to feel like you're fainting, just call me over, okay?” 

“I will.” Would it have been wrong to immediately fake an injury just to get Wanda back? Possibly but Y/n weighed the consequences and none could compare to her. So as Wanda left, Y/n used her free hand to call Bucky. After a couple of rings, he picked up the phone. “Hey, Y/n.” 

Getting straight to the point, “Is Wanda Maximoff single?” 

“Uhh - I think so. She and this synthezoid, Vision, used to date but I believe they broke up a year ago. Why do you ask?” Y/n looked at Wanda who was across the room. Her radiant smile could be spotted from miles away. “Just wanting to gather intel. Thanks Bucky.” 

Y/n hung up the phone, not caring about what Bucky had to say back. Her eyes lingered back to Wanda. No matter how much she distracted herself with her phone, her eyes always glanced back on Wanda Maximoff. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail and all she wore was matching red scrubs. But everything about her looked and felt beautiful. 

Little did Y/n know, Wanda was admiring her too. 

The blood donation was soon over, quicker than Y/n anticipated.  Wanda had already come over, stopped the machine, and disconnected the line from Y/n’s arm. She taped a cotton ball on top of the area she poked and proceeded to wrap a red bandage around Y/n’s elbow.  “You keep this red bandage on for two hours and the cotton ball for four hours.” 

Wanda grabbed a pamphlet that had Y/n’s personal information and gave it to her. “Don’t miss a single meal for the next eight weeks. Make sure to drink plenty of water as well. If you feel dizzy in the next couple of hours, be sure to call this number, okay?”

Y/n nodded. Her mind was elsewhere at the moment, trying to find ways to ask Wanda Maximoff out. “Do you have any questions for me though?” 

Y/n opened her mouth, wanting to ask her, “Are you busy after this?” But nothing came out. And the more she tried to say words, the more silence that remained. 

“Wanda!” The pair turned to the employee that shouted her name. “I have someone that needs your help after you're done with your current volunteer.” 

“Understood.” Wanda looked back at Y/n. “We have snacks and shirts over there but I think you should be good now. Thank you for donating today.” 

As Wanda walked off, Y/n couldn’t help but beat herself up for not asking. She took a couple snacks and juice boxes before walking out of the donation center. 

Was Y/n in love? Not quite yet. Infatuated? Probably. It was the best explanation as to why she was back at the blood drive the very next day. The brown eyed girl paced around all night trying to think of ways to see Wanda again. And the very first realistic idea she thought of was to donate blood again. 

The super soldier practically begged the compound to give her another approval to donate blood stating that her super serum allowed for faster recovery. When no one could argue with her logic, they allowed a special approval to donate so soon. 

So when Y/n followed all the same directions, all the same questions, she was met with disappointment when she didn’t see the redhead that captured her mind. “Hi, my name is Lucy and I’ll be helping you today.” 

As Lucy proceeded to set up, Y/n couldn’t help but ask, “Is Wanda Maximoff here today?” 

The blonde shook her head with a small smile. “I’m sorry dear. She’s not going to be here today.” Y/n couldn’t hold back the frown that escaped. It was stupid to think that Wanda would come back the very next day, but she had hope. 

And as much as Y/n wanted to ask when she’ll be back, she knew the blood center wouldn’t give out information like that. Regardless, Y/n was determined. She was going to see Wanda again. 

It was a new month and a new day. Although Y/n was glad to help a good cause, her hope waned as each day passed with no Wanda. By now, everyone in the blood center knew Y/n by name. On the bright side, the other volunteers were not bad to talk to but none compared to her. 

So as Y/n sat down once again, she scrolled on her phone, expecting much disappointment. Until the voice that captured her heart called her name. “Y/n?”

She looked up from her phone and saw that familiar smile that was ingrained in her head. “Wanda.” Y/n couldn’t hold her smile back as she finally saw the girl that she’s been begging to see. 

“Looks like you’re here for you…18th donation? Look at you being a star citizen.” Y/n blushed knowing that those donations were mainly for something else. “I think by now you should know the drill. Are there any concerns you may have?”

Wanda looked back at Y/n, ready to disinfect her arm. “I-” Y/n’s brain short circuited at the feeling of Wanda’s hands on her arm. It was like everything that she wanted to say suddenly left her brain. But the feeling was just on the tip of her tongue. 

“You know, they should give you a badge or something for donating so much. I didn’t even know that was possible. Didn’t you start donating like last month?” Again, not a single thought formulated in Y/n’s head when all she could focus on was how soft Wanda’s hands were. Because if Y/n was able to focus, she would be able to say that her donation was 17 days, 13 hours, and 5 minutes ago. But who was counting? 

Wanda looked back at Y/n’s chart to confirm her suspicions. “Are you still scared of needles though?” And that’s when Y/n finally got back into the real world. For all the times she’s been back, she’s had to look away from the needle while using a nearby pillow to control her nerves. 

“I think I might need your magic again.” Y/n blushed at the request but felt proud at the smug look that came from Wanda. “I might have to start charging you for the show.” 

With sudden blind confidence, Y/n asked, “Let me take you out on a date in return.” Wanda almost missed the vein at Y/n’s sudden question. She had an inkling that the girl liked her but never expected her to actually pursue her thoughts. 

“You didn’t even need it.” Y/n looked down and saw that Wanda had poked her without realizing it. 

“Does that mean you won’t go?” Wanda looked at the time on the clock and smiled at Y/n. 

“It actually means you have three hours till my shift is up.” Wanda patted Y/n’s arm, reminding her to squeeze the ball in her hand. “So pick me up then. How should I dress?”

“Something casual. I hadn’t really planned out what I was going to do after you said yes.” Wanda blushed at the idea of Y/n practicing this moment. 

“How about this? You and I walk around New York. I don’t think the guys have given you much of a good tour. So I’ll tell you all about the new New York and you tell me about the old New York.” 

“You have a deal.” 

Wanda and Y/n were in the back seat of an uber. The small date was something Y/n never wanted to end but the lack of energy made it hard to keep up. So when Y/n asked if it could be an early night, she was relieved that Wanda wasn’t mad at her. 

Right now, the uber was at a stoplight and the two hardly spoke as their shoulders touched. 

“Can I hold your hand?” Y/n whispered as she lightly placed her hand above Wanda’s. The small smile was hard to miss on Wanda’s face. She could feel Y/n’s internal battle to ask her that. She leaned into Y/n’s ear and whispered, “You don’t even have to ask,” and pressed a small kiss on Y/n’s cheek as they interlaced hands. 

A small blushed and a wide grin appeared on Y/n’s face. “I hope you had fun today.” Looking away, Y/n yawned into her hand.. “You tired dekta?” 

Looking back at her, Y/n tilted her head in confusion. “Dekta? What does that mean?” Wanda blushed more. She hadn’t meant to call Y/n that, but it left her lips so easily. Like it was second nature. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Wanda placed her left hand on Y/n’s bicep and gave it a small squeeze, “Aren’t you supposed to be a super soldier? It's barely past 10 pm and you’re already tired.” Y/n scratched the back of her neck, slightly embarrassed at how tired she was. But all Wanda could focus on was the feeling of Y/n’s muscles as she gave one more squeeze. 

Y/n yawned again, unable to fight the sleep that took over her body. “It’s what happens when you donate blood every day to try and see a pretty girl.” They hadn’t even kissed but Wanda could’ve sworn she was in love. The dopey smile on Y/n’s face would make any girl’s heart melt. The red head mentally thanked that it was her that Y/n was looking at and nobody else. 

“You did that for me?” Y/n could think of many things she would do for Wanda, rescue a billion people, punch a hole in the moon, even kidnap someone. Regardless of how unrealistic it was, Wanda Maximoff was worth changing the tides on Earth. So how could someone so wonderful could ever question that someone would do something for her attention? 

“I wanted to see you again.” Y/n bit her inner cheek, trying her best to stay calm but all she could think about was how soft Wanda’s lips looked. 

The red head hadn’t meant to hear that thought, but she was glad she did. She bit her lip wishing that Y/n would just kiss her already. But something about the way they stared into each other's eyes was already enough for her to feel alive. And for someone so sober, her body grew drunk at the touch of Y/n. 

“So you donated blood to see me?” It was still all unbelievable to Wanda but Y/n would tell her a million times until she believed it.

Their eyes interlocked causing Wanda’s breathing to hitch. She swore she could look into those brown eyes forever. “18 pints and counting.” Y/n couldn’t hold back her grin as Wanda looked away, unable to hold back her wide smile. 

Y/n gave a gentle squeeze in their interlaced hands as Wanda turned back to face Y/n. “You’re gonna get yourself sick if you keep donating.” Wanting to focus on something else, Y/n caressed Wanda’s cheek as she tucked a loose strand back. 

Not wanting her touch to go away, Wanda placed her hand above Y/n’s. So many thoughts ran through both of their heads. Wanda could feel the weight inside Y/n’s mind but didn’t dare to peak. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking…” 

“...I think you’re really pretty,” Y/n admitted in secret. 

“What else?” Y/n rubbed her thumb gently across Wanda’s cheek. 

“I think I want to take you out on a second date.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And I…I think I want to kiss you.” Wanda swallowed all the nerves in her chest.

“...I’d really like that…” And as brown eyes looked at greens eyes one more time, Y/n slowly leaned in and kissed Wanda. There was no rush with each kiss, something Wanda never experienced before. All she could remember was the sloppy kisses and fast make outs. But something about kissing Y/n slowly drove heart mad because how dare she live this long without being kissed like this. 

And as they kissed, their hands never broke apart, instead, they gave gentle squeezes with every kiss. And when slowly pulled apart, Wanda knew then she was love sick. 

Bonus

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky rubbed his forehead, feeling the headache coming forth, “Y/n passed out from kissing you?” 

“Well, the kissing didn’t help but she also donated 18 pints of blood in the last three weeks.” Wanda looked at Y/n’s sleeping figure. Her head rested comfortably on Wanda’s lap. 

Bucky sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet you at her place.” 

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[doqt33th]

SINGULARITY

MIRAGE/READER

SUMMARY: You and Mirage have been pining for each other for a while now. A nasty summer storm drives you straight into his arms. Shenanigans ensue.

WORD COUNT: 18k. Sorry I’m insane

WARNINGS: 18+ and I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! Explicit PWP, fingering + oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, mild spit kink. Reader is fem and uses she/her pronouns but is written fairly androgynous. No descriptors of appearance beyond the basics and no (y/n) used.

Familiar streets flashed by at increasing speeds, traffic and pedestrians flickering by and blurring together into a smorgasbord of color, all gilded by the setting sun. Unconsciously, you dug your fingers into the seams of the leather seat beneath you, worrying the stitches. Out of the corner of your eye, the radio blazed to life with color and that oh-so-familiar symbol.

“Hey, hey, easy on the merchandise, hot stuff,” Mirage crackled out of the speakers lightheartedly, and you immediately yanked your hands into yourself like they’d been burned. In your worrying, you’d seemingly forgotten about what — or rather, who — exactly was your ride.

“Oh— my bad, I wasn’t thinking,” you said, sinking your weight back and down, instead picking at your nails to give your hands something to do. God, you were so nervous, and for what? Mirage knew all these people— these bots, and knew them well. They were all friends! Or amiable towards each other, at the very least. And they were the good guys. Saved the world and all that.

So why were you so anxious?

“You’re good, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He slowed to a stop at a red light. Your leg started to bounce. “Sooo… you wanna tell me what’s on your mind? Save me a trip to Noah’s repair shop? I’d hate for you to start taking your emotions out on me, y’know.”

You scoffed, eyes sliding to the radio. The grin that pulled at the corners of your mouth was one you were helpless to stop. He just had that effect on you, where around him you became a slave to your laughter and, additionally, also became one half of a terrible joke machine that Mirage happily completed.

Leather creaked as you nudged the inside of the door with your boot to chastise him. “You love when I take my emotions out on you, dick. Don’t lie.”

“Only the good ones,” he shot back, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “You nervous about meeting the others?”

His probe was successful; you fought the urge to shrink at your feelings being read so accurately and so immediately. “I— yeah. I am, and I don’t even know why. I’m sure they’re all great, I’m just working myself up over nothing.”

Red faded to green. Carried on the tide of forward-moving traffic, Mirage rolled ahead, eventually slipping over to make a turn. You watched him twist his mirrors to check his blind spot.

“Ah, c’mon. Nobody could blame you, you’re meeting a bunch of aliens for the first time. Pretty trippy for anyone. ‘specially if those aliens are, like, double your size. And robots.” A short chuckle topped off his words.

“Right. I just don’t wanna fuck it up or embarrass myself, you know how it is. I don’t wanna embarrass you, either.”

“Oh, Primus, trust me. You’re not gonna embarrass me. I don’t even think that’s possible. Prime’s seen me in a lot worse shape than bringing you in to meet him.” The world continued to roll by. Brick buildings blotted out the sunshine in intermittent flashes. “You got good marks from your favorite bot, you’ll be fine.” The dismissive tone of his voice was working, in a weird way, to assuage your fears.

“Excuse me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest pointedly. “My favorite bot?”

“What, am I not?” A downright theatrical gasp hissed out of the speaker. “Have you been cheating on me?”

Cheeks hot with a flush at even the joking insinuation of being together, you glanced away from the impassive Autobot symbol on the radio and out the window. Still, the laugh barked out of you was sudden and sharp, and quickly dissolved into giggles. “Yes. Mirage. I’m sorry. There’s another ten foot tall alien robot in Brooklyn that’s been vying for my attention. We’re done.”

“I should throw you out on the street right now,” Mirage fussed playfully, his evident pout tinging his voice. “For breakin’ my spark. Also I’m taller than that.”

“You wouldn’t dare. I’m fragile.”

“I dunno. Noah gets his ass kicked around pretty good and he’s still kickin’ it.”

“I am not Noah,” came your tongue-in-cheek rebuttal. “And Noah just refuses to give up even when it’s good for him.”

“Thought qualities like determination were supposed to be big things with you guys.”

“In moderation.”

Mirage barked a laugh. “Ha! Should tell that to Prime. He’ll blow a gasket.” You opened your mouth to reply, only to be cut off. “No, seriously, tell it to Prime, we’re here.”

The easy confidence that your playful back-and-forth had teased out instantly chilled into a dense mass in your stomach; Mirage was rolling slowly up to a nondescript warehouse buried deep within the old industrial part of Brooklyn, and the way the worn brick loomed over you even in the car made your heart rate pick up.

Now or never.

Familiar alien whirs and clicks of shifting and setting metal filled your ears as Mirage rose into his bipedal mode, the driver’s seat gently ejecting you onto your own two legs on the pavement. Following the motion, you took a few steps forward, but still balked a little at the half open door. Inside, you heard voices of varying timbre, and you fought the urge to turn tail.

Now. Or. Never. Gritted teeth accompanied the repetition of your thought.

The displacement of air behind you — and the soft, constant mechanical noises emanating from his body — signaled Mirage’s presence before his voice.

He said your name with surprising care, using a tone that only came out when he was really being sincere. You couldn’t help the way your face warmed at it as you turned, craning your neck up to meet his gaze. “Hey, you, uh, you want me to go in ahead of ya? Normally I’d be like ‘ladies first’ and all that, but you said you weren’t feeling too jazzed about going in—“

“Yeah, actually, if you could, that would be… great. That would be great.”

“Gotcha. Let you psych yourself up a little more before you go in, I see how it is. Let me do the talking,” he affirmed with an easy grin and a nod, bouncing on the balls of his pedes a few times before striding forward. His long legs folded easily under him as he ducked under the lowered garage door, and you traipsed after, smoothing your thumb over your knuckles repeatedly.

The warehouse yawned beyond you, orange shafts of light cutting gashes into otherwise brownish darkness. Old graffiti sprayed across the walls told you that Ramona had been there once, then Nick, then Darnell, and a million others. And you were there now, feeling impossibly small, yes, but a little more resilient with the fading sunlight at your back and Mirage, like always, at your side.

He’d become a permanent fixture in your life from the day you’d met him — when you’d strong-armed Noah into giving up his secret about his Porsche, and the mysterious car had ended up being a twelve-foot-tall robot with a literal motormouth that made a playful pass at you within the first hour of your first conversation. You’d been flustered out of your mind, but had just kept coming back out of unfettered curiosity and outright fascination. Aliens were real, and Noah was friends with one, and it— he could turn into a Porsche.

Mind-shattering observations on the surface, yes. Mirage tended to deflate the grandeur, though, because he never acted like aliens did in the movies or in books. There was no ‘We come in peace!’ bullshit. He was so easy. Everything with him was so easy. He was loudmouthed and extroverted and genuinely hilarious; you spent hours in Noah’s garage trading terrible jokes — mostly bad sexual innuendos — or buckled to Mirage’s driver’s seat as he flew down Central Avenue on the wrong side of the limit and blasted Haddaway so loud it nearly busted your eardrums.

Weird to say an alien robot was your friend, but he was. He gave you rides to work, to your lectures, to your labs, wherever; in fact, he got petulant when you dared to take the bus one day to give him a break, and made it a point to pry your routine out of you so that he could take you wherever you wanted, no fares needed. 

So infuriating. You loved it.

You loved… maybe more than just the back-and-forth. Maybe more than the bad jokes. Maybe more than the late-night drives. You were starting to think— starting to realize you loved big blue optics, and the rumble of a 260 horsepower engine when you made just the right innuendo, and broad, incredibly intricate servos that dwarfed yours in size but were so, so careful…

Man. You tried not to think about it too much. It as a concept made you laugh with its own absurdity. Poor human chick fell in love with the giant alien robot that made her laugh. It wasn’t… debilitating. You still functioned like a normal adult. Mostly. Except for that one night like two weeks ago where you’d been arguing with him about some stupid shit and he’d scooped you up, right off the ground, in both servos and held you there, digits interlaced against your back and thumbs on your front.

It wasn’t the first time he’d ever held you like that — he’d done it a few times — but something was different that night… even if he’d only done it to gain an upper hand in your bickering. The air crackled with latent electricity, made your skin buzz in all the right places, especially when Mirage had gone quiet for once in his life as he stared at you in his grasp. When you’d prompted him with his name, he’d only responded by gently stroking a thumb over the swell of your chest, which had made you gasp air in so sharply that it burned in your throat. The metal left a tingling path on your skin under your shirt in its wake and immediately sent your heart rate skyrocketing past whatever the fuck was a normal BPM.

He’d snapped back to reality at the sudden expansion of your lungs and had attempted to play it all off as a joke. You remembered how you’d still stumbled when your shoes touched the ground, an absolutely insane feeling of genuine heat rocking you as your brain seized the feeling of his touch while it still sparked against your nerve endings and helpfully replayed it over and over and over again. Sure, the rhythm of banter came back after a stuttering beat, but you never really cooled the warmth on your face for the rest of that night — and when Mirage had dropped you off at your apartment, your door was shut and locked for about five minutes before your shaking hand was frantically worked beneath the waistband of your pants.

…Whew. Definitely something a little more than friendly there. Maybe even more than pure love, something a little slicker and deeper that buzzed against your bones and coiled low in your stomach. It made you feel a little weird — just objectively, because of what Mirage was — but damn if it didn’t feel good to indulge.

God, fuck, why were you thinking about that now, of all times? Escapist fantasies be damned, you were going to meet Mirage’s comrades-friends-coworkers and leave a good impression. Not drool over the worn-out memory replaying in your head for the thousandth time this week.

Out of the darkness and around corners, they emerged. The stealth wasn’t on purpose; you didn’t even think they could be stealthy. Oh, one was coming right for you now — tall was the only word your brain could muster. Tall and red and square were added to the list of adjectives as the stately bot approached, servos collected into fists at his sides and shoulders thrown back.

“Priiiime,” Mirage greeted warmly, throwing his arms out at his sides in his favorite pose. “Look, hey, I know what you said about bringing more people around, but I swear— Hey!”

Completely ignoring your friend’s (status pending) greeting, the bot— Prime, holy shit, this is THE Prime, was kneeling down, leaning forward, and he was right in your face. You fought the very biological urge to flinch. Blue optics considered you for a moment before narrowing and flicking to your right from his lowered position.

“Mirage,” Optimus started with a gravelly tone  from behind his faceguard that communicated exasperation above all else. “I explicitly stated that for our safety — and yours — that we were to come in contact with no more humans.”

“Sir, I gotta be honest with you. Kinda hard on a planet that’s got, what, five billion of ‘em? Six?” Mirage glanced at you for backup. You stared back flatly, refusing to say anything that might put you on the business end of a laser cannon.

“You were told to remain incognito so you could recover.” Optimus continued, his gaze returning to you. With a shunk of shifting metal, his faceplate slid away. His faceplates were weathered; the chipped metal around his optics gave the illusion of wrinkles and eyebags. Tired. He seemed tired. “This is not incognito. What is your name?”

You gave it after taking a beat to steady yourself. He repeated it back to you. “How did you come in contact with Mirage?”

“I, uh— Noah, Noah Diaz, he’s my friend. I basically pried it out of him,” you said with a nervous laugh. “So it’s not Mirage’s fault. I’m just nosy.”

At the mention of Noah, Optimus seemed to visibly relax; he moved back slightly, though he remained kneeling, and the narrowed, suspicious squint of his optics rounded out into something much softer.

“…I see. Then I assume you understand the… precarious nature of our existence on your planet.” he said, his tone grave and his optics searching your face.

You nodded, pressing the flesh of the inside of your cheek between your teeth for a moment as you came up with a suitably diplomatic response that still conveyed your friendliness. “I do, yeah. Noah told me most of it. What he could, anyway. I just wanted to make it clear that I’m not— I’m not a threat here. Like I don’t work with the, uh, the government or anything. Whatever you guys need help with, I’m available, even if that just means keeping my mouth shut.”

Christ, you were glad this wasn’t your day job. You’d be such a shit ambassador. I’m available. What the hell did that even mean? Fuck yes, you were available, your brain guffawed, thinking of broad metal thumbs brushing over your chest.

You blinked hard, squeezing your eyelids together until the world came back in a photo negative, to scold yourself.

Although you’d stumbled through your reply, Optimus seemed to approve. He rose with a great creak of metal off of his knee and backed up to give you space, though he still regarded you with those sharp blue optics that felt as though they pinned you to the concrete below. “I see Noah chooses his company well. I should have assumed his sentiments would extend to his companions.” He shut his optics for a moment and dipped his head, as if considering deeply what to say next. “I am not sure how much Mirage — or Noah — divulged to you.”

“A fair amount— well. Any amount that won’t get them in trouble,” you called up, taking in deeper breaths to project your voice up the two stories of height to his head. To your side, Mirage snorted. “I know your name— Optimus, I know that, and I know about the Autobots. A little bit about the— fuck, what were they called—“

“Terrorcons?” Mirage supplied, and you were impressed at how quiet he’d been otherwise.

“Terrorcons, thank you. Other than that, not much. How much should I know?”

“Your knowledge is sufficient. All we fear — and all we risk—“ Optimus added with a pointed look at Mirage, who looked incredibly sheepish. “—at the moment is discovery. So long as you maintain secrecy, no harm shall come to us… or you, for that matter.”

It almost sounded like a threat, but Prime worded it very much like a warning. You decided it was best to heed his word — not that you really had another option.

“Right. Okay. Well— I mean, it was nice to meet you. People — humanity, I guess — aren’t bad. Most of us aren’t, anyway. Just, uh, let me know if there’s something Noah and I can get or do for you.”

Prime’s gaze shifted away from you. In fact, it seemed to shift away from the warehouse in general, looking somewhere far beyond the now-shut garage door. “Your generosity is admirable, but it is not humans primarily that we are concerned with.”

Brows furrowed at his vague answer, you thought it over for a second — and then decided not to push it. He probably knew best when it came to whatever foreboding nebulous space threat loomed over your collective heads; you would leave it up to the experts.

“Oh, well, golden rule and all that,” you still offered in terms of a response. That got his attention. His massive head tilted downwards to look at you once more with curiosity. “If I crash landed on someone else’s planet, I’d want them to be hospitable, y’know? Just trying to make the best of a shitty situation.”

Like he couldn’t handle the terrible punishment of silence anymore, Mirage butted in. “See, Prime? I told you she was cool.”

A short jolt shook the broad, boxy line of his shoulders, and at first you had thought he’d coughed, and then you realized he laughed. It was barely anything, a huff of a chuckle, but you glowed with the indirect affirmation. Just made Optimus Prime laugh. Maybe you weren’t such a terrible diplomat.

He wasn’t looking at you, though, rather at Mirage, and you swore from your low vantage point you could see a barely-there smile on Prime’s faceplates communicating…was that smug amusement? As the tall bot carefully made his way past you, he stopped in front of your companion, and let a heavy servo land on the headlight adorning his shoulder.

“No matter what you may feel, you chose well, Mirage.” Optimus rumbled out, before removing his servo and traipsing off into a darker section of the sprawling warehouse, ducking through a much-too-small cutout and speaking to Arcee about something indistinguishable. However, you couldn’t care less about whatever her and Prime were discussing — what the hell did he mean by Mirage choosing well?

You turned your head towards said bot, mouth open for inquiry and one brow raised. Mirage looked mortified, in every sense of the word; he stood shell-shocked, lips slightly parted and servos up and open as if to defend himself. His head was whipped around to follow Prime’s departure from the room. A whir started, bouncing off the walls — Mirage’s fans came on and off intermittently to keep his ambient internal temperature at safe levels, but the steady hum of this fan let you infer that he was flushing something fierce.

“Mirage? What—“

Interrupting you by breaking, nearly jumping, out of his trance, he clapped his servos together and started talking at a million miles a minute. “Well, damn, look at that, haha, it’s late, ain’t it? You got work in the morning, right? C’mon, hop in, I’ll drive you home—“

“No, Mirage, hold on, what was he talking about—“

“Seriously, c’mon, he was just messing around—“

“You’re telling me Optimus Prime was joking? Is he even capable of that?”

He said your name with a finality that nearly made you flinch. “Look, I can’t really— Just drop it, please?” It wasn’t angry, nor was it even commanding; in fact, his eyes were wide and pleading with you out of embarrassment. You knew the feeling all too well, and in the interest of sparing his feelings, decided to let it go, despite your intense curiosity.

You put your hands up in surrender. “Okay. Dropped.” A few beats of silence passed while Mirage was still tamping down his fluster. “You wanna take me home now or are we waiting for Prime to come embarrass you more?”

“Please, let’s get outta here,” he affirmed, dropping into his alt-mode and popping the driver door for you. As you slid in, you couldn’t help the little mischievous smile that grew on your face as your brain cooked up some other joke to take the edge off.

The garage door opened on its own. Mirage rolled into the noticeably darker alleyway. The burnt umber glow of the sunset-stained sky was only visible overhead; otherwise you were boxed in on the sides by blacked-out buildings.

Stifling silence was broken by a joke. Your joke, actually. “…Can’t believe your dad made fun of you in front of me.”

The noise Mirage made was only comparable to a squawk. But obviously much more masculine, clearly. Still, his tires jerked on the road, betraying his surprise. “Hey— Prime is not my sire— or dad, or whatever you wanna call ‘em. He wishes.”

“I dunno,” you mused, arms crossed over your chest and back sunk deep into the seat. Brooklyn in transition blurred by in messy constellations of lit windows. “He got you pretty good there. Pretty standard dad behavior.”

“Hey, I don’t know what suddenly inspired him to go for comedy, but I do not appreciate it. That’s my thing. He’s stealin’ my thunder!”

“Maybe you’re just rubbing off on him.”

Silence.

The radio crackled. “Ew.”

Accompanied by the loudest eyeroll you could muster, you whacked the dashboard with an open palm, though you couldn’t stop your bubbling laughter. “Oh my god, you are so gross, Mirage! I hate you!”

“Ahh, don’t say that, c’mon! You love it here!”

“You wish.”

The rest of the ride home was spent that way, bickering like normal, and although you couldn’t let go of what Prime had said, nor his knowing look while he said it, you appreciated the return to baseline. When you got home, Mirage parked directly in front of your apartment building, and you lingered on the sidewalk for several minutes after you got out of the car. With the passenger door opened so it looked like you were talking to the ‘driver’ and not completely insane, you leaned on the doorframe and traded jabs with your ride until the humidity of the night air got a little too persistent to ignore. Damn you, Brooklyn. 

“See you tomorrow?” Mirage never said goodnight. He only ever asked when he could see you again, corny bastard.

“Tomorrow. My roommate’ll take me to work, don’t worry about it. I’ll just stick my head in the garage when I get home.”

“I thought we had a thing goin’, man!” His faux petulance returned. “You movin’ on already? You just met my folks!”

Your jaw dropped for a second at the fact he’d turned the damn bit around on you. “I met one folk, and you literally said he wasn’t your dad.”

“Maybe I was warmin��� up to the idea!”

Another lethal eyeroll. Your smile still remained locked on your face. “Whatever. Get the hell out of here, asshole,” you said, playfully shutting the door just a little harder than you needed to and slapping the roof like a horse you were trying to send off into the desert.

Even as you turned to walk into your building, you could hear the way his window shot down, far faster than a normal roll. “Ay! Merchandise!”

You stuck a middle finger over your shoulder, thumb out and all, to give him an idea of what he could do with his merchandise. Tires peeled against pavement as he screeched out of his spot and down the otherwise quiet street, letting you know in return how he felt about that.

Smiling like an idiot as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, you felt… airy. You were always smiling after hanging around Mirage, you couldn’t help it — especially as of late. But still, you were dying to know what Prime was talking about when he was messing with Mirage earlier. You chose well. Chose what? Your brain briefly entertained the thought of Mirage returning what you felt, and it made blood rush to your face.

It couldn’t really… work. You had made peace with your physical differences weeks ago. The both of you got along just fine despite the size difference, and it never impeded your normal interactions. But you doubted Mirage felt the same; no matter how familiar, how friendly you were with him, you could never shake the feeling of being just a little too alien. Your greatest similarities were in personality. The closest resemblance you held physically was the fact you were both humanoid in shape.

That didn’t stop you. No, not at all. It didn’t stop you from dropping into bed after a quick shower with a heavy sigh, your hand inevitably sinking beneath the covers as you thought of digits — Mirage’s digits, so well articulated for their size and so careful — playing with the hem of your underwear instead of your own fingers, pushing the fabric aside just a little roughly to explore your alien anatomy. It took very little time for you to grind yourself to climax; in fact, it was embarrassingly quick, and it left your face hot with some special kind of shame as you slunk out of bed to wash your hands. The entire time, you avoided your reflection in the mirror.

Even with the ancient AC cranked on and chugging away, it took you a long while to fall asleep.

Off in the industrial district of Brooklyn, meanwhile, Mirage was burning rubber as he took ninety-degree turns at sixty miles per hour. His processor was thrumming at max capacity, and his engine felt like it was about to either stall or explode.

Primus, it was all too much. Your teasing always got him some kind of hot and bothered, tight under his interface paneling, but the acidic rush of embarrassment still prickled at his cabling. Prime, come on, man. Mirage was still floored at the fact that Prime of all bots had embarrassed him like that, in front of you, no less!

He had it bad for you, and he knew it, but apparently every other bot in that warehouse knew it too. Ever since he’d met you, you’d stuck in his processor, the way the light glinted off your eyes and your all-teeth smile and the way he could get you to laugh. Sure, his flirts were only playful at first — and he only did them to mess with Noah, who’d harbored an on-and-off crush on you for a while — but the more he did them and the more you returned them, the more he started really… considering it.

It was so shameful. Primus, it was shameful. He’d barely ever interfaced in his life — there was just no time, especially not on Cybertron — and never with organics. After that one night where he’d hefted you up with ease in both servos and completely blanked when confronted with your soft, warm weight in his hold, he’d been on a spiral. It wasn’t just enough to be friendly with you; he was plenty friendly with Noah (though with the amount of stupid passes Mirage made at him, Noah would probably say too friendly) and he wanted something more with you.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d rolled into some long-abandoned warehouse or pitch-black deserted alley and scrabbled at his interface panel to pressurize his spike before he feverishly, frantically humped his fisted servo for relief, mental processors supplying increasingly filthy fantasies of your soft skin against his chassis and your mouth, Primus, your mouth on his own, on his spike, wherever, he didn’t care. Every single time, though, after coming down from his high with steam pouring off his lax frame, he felt just a little more discouraged than the last — because he knew that his fantasies would have to stay that way. Fantasies. Your friendship was enough, had to be, no matter how bad he wanted you, because he’d be damned to the Pit before he scared you off by being stupid and admitting his feelings.

Ugh. Ugh. He took another corner too hard and felt his tires shriek, let the burn travel upward and reverberate in his frame. The chaos in his mental processors quieted as he neared HQ. All he knew was that it was late, and he couldn’t be too loud or Prime would get on his ass for interrupting his stasis.

Can’t believe your dad made fun of you in front of me. Your voice played, unbidden, from some file that popped open in his memory bank. He willed it away with a vengeance as he rolled into the warehouse-turned-headquarters as quietly as he could, transforming as soon as the door was shut and stretching out his back. Clicking echoed off the walls as his spinal struts reset, and the residual burn in his scraped tires tingled.

Mirage turned, and—

Yelped. Bumblebee was standing right there, shoulder against the wall and fiddling with some holographic projection from his forearm. Mirage coughed into his clenched servo to preserve what was left of his dignity.

“‘Sup,” he greeted through gritted denta. “I, uh, didn’t see you there, man. How’s it hangin’?”

Bee gave him a flatly unamused look that communicated ‘No shit, you didn’t see me.’ very well. The projection phased out of existence and left the two of them in the dimmed space in some kind of standoff.

“Well, y’know, beauty stasis and everything, I’m just gonna—“

“I wanna know, what you’re feeling! Tell me what’s your mind!” burbled Bee’s radio in place of his voice. Mirage jerked back for a second, not expecting Information Society at whatever unholy hour of the morning it was.

“Look, man, I don’t really wanna talk about—“

“There are some things you can’t hide!” insisted the same song. Bee gestured for Mirage to talk. Clearly he wanted to know.

This was as good a time as ever to spill, he guessed.

Mirage groaned and clasped both of his servos over his face after explaining the bones of it, his head tilted upwards, optics fruitlessly searching the water-stained warehouse ceiling for a solution to his problem. His… very human, very embarrassing problem.

Not that he thought you were embarrassing— not at all, never. But Prime would have his head over falling for a human. Okay, well, maybe not his head; it was more like Mirage would be in for a lengthy disapproving speech about responsibilities and goals and distractions, and Primus, just thinking about it made the former option of decapitation the preferable one. Even though he seemed to approve of his choice, considering what he’d said earlier, the ‘Bots were still at war, and there wasn’t time for human distractions. Literal human distractions.

It wasn’t like he could help it. You were funny, okay? And smart. And you teased him in just the right way that made his cooling fans sputter, and you were so curious about… everything about him, he thought, remembering your impromptu Cybertronian anatomy lesson with a hot flash in his processor. He couldn’t help but be flattered by your attention.

“Ugh, Bee, I don’t know what to do, man,” he said despairingly after a moment, pacing in circles in front of said squat yellow bot leaned against the nearby concrete wall. “I mean, look at this, she’d be missin’ out if she said no,” he added, arrogance staining his words in an attempt to console himself. It didn’t work; insecurity eviscerated his bravado moments after he said it. “Or… I guess we’d both be, huh.” A short, self-deprecating laugh left him.

Mirage wasn’t entirely sure why he’d come to Bee of all bots for advice, but he was sure as shit not going to Optimus after today, and Arcee would have just told him anyway. Plus, considering that Wheeljack wasn’t even in the country at the moment, his options were slim. Besides, Bee had… experience with this sort of thing. Dealing with humans and all. Just… not in this way. But it was close enough, and Mirage was totally lost; if he thought about it by himself for any longer, his processors were going to fry.

Speaking of, Bee tittered through his gutted voice synthesizer to get Mirage’s attention. Expression drawn into a very human grimace, Mirage turned to face his friend, servos planted firmly on his hips.

“Well, you gotta tell her— wanna know what love is— want you to show me,” Bee’s radio clipped, first from a talk show, then from a nearby station, and Mirage felt energon surge to his face in a hot rush at a very personal song being blared back at him.

He had the words memorized at this point. The shape of them was practically burned into his memory files, considering how much he played it for you. It was reserved for days on both ends of the spectrum, bad and good; Mirage would pick you up in his alt-mode and take you for joyrides across the city, flying over the Brooklyn Bridge at daredevil speeds, all the while blaring music loud enough to make your head pound.

The two of you had discovered a few favorites, but the Foreigner song was at the top of the list, right next to Careless Whisper, of course. The sound of your voice belting at the top of your lungs, softened with that specific human accent, thrumming and reverberating through your chest— you sounded so alive, but so different from what he was accustomed to.

“Dude—” Mirage nearly barked, voice up a full octave before clearing his synthesizer into his fist and repeating himself. “Dude. I can’t just do that. Aliens— we’re aliens. Well. She’s an alien, too, I guess, but we,” he paused to gesture frantically between himself and Bee, “are the aliens here. I don’t really think humans are into the whole giant robot thing.”

“Noah?” Bee played a clip of Mirage’s own voice back at him questioningly.

“Yeah, well, Noah’s a different story.”

With a whir of his actuators, Bee shook his head and looked away for a moment, big blue optics considering the floor. With a soft clunk, he crossed his arms over his chassis.

“Come on, man, you gotta give me something,” Mirage urged, tilting his head to follow the other bot’s motions. “Should I just leave it? I mean, I don’t want it to be weird, I just—“

Bee straightened up off the wall, clearly done thinking. His arms opened out in a shrug and his optics squinted, communicating I don’t know what you want me to say, dude, far better than his vocal synthesizer ever could have.

His radio clipped again, this time a few seconds of a Beatles song and then Noah’s voice. “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah— right?”

“I don’t know, that’s the problem,” Mirage groaned, rolling his head back with a pained expression and letting his body follow the motion as he paced another tight circle. His faceplates felt hot at the insinuation. “And if I ask, it’s gonna be weird. And if I make it weird, I’m never gonna—“

He stopped rambling when a four-digit servo thumped on the headlight atop his shoulder, rooting him to the spot. Bee’s optics stared him down, wide and bright blue, and it made Mirage press his lips together firmly as he awaited whatever sage advice he was about to impart.

ABBA filtered through the radio first. “Should walk right up to her and say—“ What came next made Mirage’s brow ridges shoot up so high he thought they were going to fly off his helmet. “—when I get that feeling, I want sexual healin’!”

Mirage’s jaw dropped. Immensely flustered and ten times more frustrated at his friend’s useless advice, he shoved the other bot off. “Are you serious, dude? Primus, I never shoulda asked you. Thanks, I’ll go walk right up to her and ask to interface on the warehouse floor, that’ll go super well.”

Bee nodded quickly and gave him a double thumbs up with a series of approving beeps and chirps, the bottoms of his optics flattening into an amused look. Mirage dragged his servo down his faceplates in mortification, although his cooling fans kicked on a click higher than normal.

Sometimes he wished he’d been left on Cybertron with Soundwave and all his other goons. This was one of those times. As he dropped back into his alt-mode with an embarrassed mumble about ‘going on patrol,’ Bee whooped behind him, and the last thing Mirage heard before peeling out of the warehouse was “There’s nothin’ wrong with me lovin’ you, baby, no, no!”

Whoever gave Bee access to Marvin Gaye needed to be whacked upside the helm.

Knowing Mirage’s luck, it was probably you.

He stayed out for the rest of the night in his alt-mode, wandering the streets and staying away from your apartment, no matter how bad he wanted to go. The pool of people with any useful advice to offer for his predicament was steadily shrinking; after the disaster with Bee, Mirage just needed to stay away from that warehouse and let his processors cool.

Sometime in the morning he returned, though not to the warehouse. He almost immediately crashed into stasis as soon as he rolled into Noah’s garage, his simultaneously pent-up and exhausted processors eager for a chance to refresh themselves and defrag.

Ha, he thought blearily as he sank into stasis. Defrag.

You were waking as he was crashing, though you weren’t happy about it. The eight hour shift that loomed ahead of you on top of the bullshit from last night was a pretty potent combination for a headache of a day, especially when you couldn’t have your morning jam sesh with Mirage on your way to work. Thankfully, though, your roommate was a kind soul, and there was an extra cup of coffee waiting for you on the counter when you stumbled out of your bedroom.

As you sipped it, you wondered just how long you could keep the front up. By some small grace of God, your roommate’s schedule didn’t align very well with yours; you barely saw them in your daily life even before you met Mirage. It wasn’t on purpose, of course. It just happened that way. But on a few occasions, they’d been home when Mirage had dropped you off, and you’d been just calling him a ‘friend with places to be’ to excuse the fact that he never walked you to your door. Being somewhat prescient, they’d nudged you a couple times about this ‘friend’ turning into a boyfriend, but had never pushed it.

You just hoped it stayed that way.

Breakfast was a quick and quiet affair, though you traded a few jokes back and forth that had the both of you giggling into your food. The ride to your job was similar, and your roommate wished you a good shift before driving off leisurely — such a stark difference compared to Mirage’s affinity for peeling off into the street at Mach-fucking-10. Thinking of him made your face burn and your mind race. You tried not to.

Time was an especially cruel mistress today, though. You swore that people were actively winding the clocks back every time you looked up at them, and your shift felt like a thick slog, knee-deep, that you had no choice but to wade through. The worst part about slow shifts was that your mind wandered with nothing else to do, and like a moth to a flame— or rather, like metal to a magnet, your brain circled around to Mirage again and again and again.

Damn that bot. Damn it all. Every time you thought of him, it was some stupid joke he’d cracked or silly offhand comment he’d made or ridiculous flirt he’d lobbed your way — always accompanied by memories of his body, surprisingly lithe considering what he was made of, all legs and a dramatic waist topped with wide shoulders that made your own engine purr.

“Mirage, did you go upstate or something? You’re disgusting,” you’d laughed as you raked your gaze over his pecs, pretending to eye the dirt smeared there and not something else.

“Disgusting?! You gotta be kidding me, I’m not half as bad as the rest of ‘em. You should see Bee, dude!” He’d gestured out the door of the warehouse, where you assumed the other bot was lurking in dirt-covered shame.

“What the hell were you two even doing?”

“Pfft. Practicin’.”

“Practicing body-slamming each other?”

“Yeah, want me to show you?”

“Mirage,” you’d groaned, laughing despite yourself.

“C’mon, I know a few good ways to pin a bot down,” he grinned, winking at you. You fixed him with the most dead stare you could muster before breaking into a half-smile of your own.

“I’ll pass on the whole getting crushed thing, but I could be persuaded to spray you down by hand,” you flirted back, just for fun. 

No, not for fun. Real flirt. It was real, all of it was, and you couldn’t shake the memory of his optics widening, brightening, with eagerness and the way he’d pleaded. Playfully. Playfully?

“Please,” he begged dramatically, clasping his servos together, optics enormous. “I’ll be good! Maybe even stay still!”

You pinched your nose bridge between your fingers and tried to think about something else, because you were starting to press your thighs together a little and you were still at work, damn it. Professionalism was something you were aiming to maintain.

Hot. It was hot. That’s what you were thinking about. You’d glanced at the weather report earlier in the morning, and seeing a row of little sun icons clued you in on an insufferable heatwave that didn’t have any intention of breaking any time soon. Even now you felt sweat collect under your shirt and dot your hairline; all you could do was wipe your face with the back of your hand and keep working.

And working.

And working.

And. Working.

And then, eventually, you watched the clock tick over the last minute of your shift, and you heard angels sing a holy choir as you all but slammed your things down and sprinted to clock out. Well. You didn’t sprint, but you did speed walk, which counted for something.

Such was your haste to leave your workplace and talk to Mirage that you speed-walked headfirst into the lashing rain outside without a second thought. Genuinely caught by surprise, you stumbled back into the safety of the entryway, eyes wide as you watched the storm front swallow the last dregs of the golden evening sky and pour rain on the streets outside. Ink blots bleeding across paper. Rorschach tests. Some other poetic fluff came to mind over the supremely annoying realization that you were going to have to walk to the garage in wet clothes.

At least it was a quick walk.

Patience waning, you nearly considered calling Mirage — or even Noah — to come get you, but at the last second your roommate swooped in, pulling up outside and honking the horn a few times to let you know your knight in shining Prius was here to rescue you.

They cracked a few jokes at your expense when they saw your wet clothes, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Not after the trials and tribulations of Mirage. With a few clicks, the rest of your ride home was filled with Boyz II Men and intermittent conversation as you watched raindrops race each other down the window and considered what the hell you were going to say to Mirage tonight. 

Mostly, you were dying of curiosity to know what Prime had meant to get him so flustered. Thinking about that, though, just made you go down a spiral of what-ifs… especially considering that one of them was ‘What if he feels the same way?’

You could handle rejection. You were an adult who paid taxes. But just this one time, you weren’t sure if you could handle reciprocation. Especially full reciprocation.

Mirage’s friendship was something you felt privileged to have. You were just quite scared to fuck it all up and lose out on all the things that made being his friend worth it — including him. Jaw tightening, you blinked and looked away from the window. No use stewing in it.

At home, your dinner was quick and light — something in a Tupperware that you didn’t look at too hard after microwaving. When your roommate asked about your rush, you came up with some lame excuse about hanging out with Noah, waving your hand dismissively.

Don’t worry about me. I’m going to go break Hynek’s scale of close encounters. Don’t worry about it though.

“In this weather? You’ll be soaked thirty seconds out the door. You were soaked thirty seconds out the door.”

“I’ll bring an umbrella,” you said, barely listening to them over the cacophony of your own thoughts. Mirage. Mirage. Mirage. I’m seeing him tonight. I’m talking to him tonight. I’m not going to pussy out of anything tonight. Now or never. “The place is like two blocks up the street, I’ll live.”

“If you’re so inclined to catch a cold, I’m not gonna stop you. Not making you chicken soup, though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you snarked affectionately, and the last thing you heard before exiting your apartment was their familiar laughter. That bolstered you somewhat.

Even if the rain whipping at your face made you reconsider your stupid horny stubbornness.

Only two blocks felt more like two dozen as you tucked your chin to your chest and gripped your hood to keep the wind from snatching it off your head; in your other hand you white-knuckled your umbrella to keep it from tilting the wrong angle and washing water down your back. Thunder rattled your bones more than once and made you think offhandedly of Kris, the poor kid. He hated storms but refused to admit it out of pride; he was probably curled up in a ball under his covers right now trying to block out the worst of the noise. And you thought of Noah alongside him just out of pure association, and you weren’t sure what made your stomach turn, but it did.

God, you hoped Noah wasn’t with Mirage right now. You didn’t want to slam the door open to the garage soaking wet and wrestle Mirage’s true feelings out of him while Noah spectated. Wrestle. Soaking wet.

Fuck my life.

The side door to the garage was jammed like it always was, even after you unlocked it, and you huddled against it to stay under the mediocre cover of the awning as you shoved your shoulder into it to force it open. Old metal hinges wailed as you ground them open, and the blessed dry warmth of the garage — the temperature always heightened with Mirage’s presence — sighed against your freezing skin as you wormed your way inside. 

“Mirage?” you called tentatively as you leaned back against the door to get it to shut and latch. A beat passed before your senses came to you and your hand fumbled behind you to lock it. Not for sordid reasons, honestly. You just didn’t want anyone to even have the chance of walking in on Mirage when he wasn’t folded into a Porsche.

Speaking of, you saw him then, pacing around the garage and seemingly very involved in a conversation with himself. Although the rain outside provided a dull roar of background noise, the whirs and clicks of his actuators and soft whooms of his pedes against the concrete filled your ears with their familiarity. It was Mirage, and you knew Mirage, and it helped dull the edge of abject nervousness in your gut.

He cut a sharp figure under the hanging ceiling lights, making sure to duck and avoid smacking his helm on them. When those bright blue optics registered your existence, you swore they flared with delight; he said your name with such enthusiasm it almost made you excited. For what, exactly, you didn’t know. “Hey, sugar, what’s k— Primus, you, uh, swim on your way here? Or do I just make you that wet? Cuz I appreciate the compliment.” He grinned wolfishly at you. Sparks flew off your rubbed-raw nerves.

The unimpressed stare you gave him was lethal. “That is not how that works,” you said, shaking your umbrella off on the floor and setting it against the wall to drip dry. “All the wetness is— would be in one place, dumbass.”

“Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention during my anatomy lessons. Wanna reteach ‘em to me? I’ll behave, swear on my spark.”

A scoff. “When have you ever behaved in your life?”

“When it counts! C’mon, you know you like it,” he said, gesturing down the length of his body with a flourish of his servo. “I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

“If I answer that question, I’ll hurt your feelings.” Excess rainwater dripped off your jacket as you peeled it off. Mirage’s optics followed the motion intently.

Amber lighting nearly glowed against the sleek metal of his torso. So what if your own eyes had wandered down it at his emphasis? He’d invited it. Expressly. He loved your attention, loved flaunting everything about himself just for a glance his way from you, for anything you’d give him.

It took him a second to register your words. He gasped and clasped a servo over his chassis— his spark, you remembered that from your own anatomy lesson a few weeks ago. “Gonna break my spark talkin’ like that. I hurt your feelings or something, sugar? What’s got you so bent?” With his question, he sank into a deep squat, draping his forearm over his thigh and leaning close to you.

A deep exhale left you. Your shoulders deflated. “It’s not you. Just the weather.” A short huff of a laugh, barely humorous, left you. “I mean, look at me.” You held your arms out and spun in a slow circle, errant droplets flying in every direction. “I look like a drowned rat.”

The lightbulb over his head was nearly visible. “You, uh, want a hand drying off?”

You stopped dead in your tracks. Your hands fell to your sides. Something akin to lightning danced up your spine.

“What?”

“Hold on, hold on, I got an idea,” he said,  holding his hand out at you to tell you to wait, excitement ramping up in his voice. What the hell was he planning? Nothing good, you figured. Or hoped.

Otherwise harsh sounds of metal against metal were softened by the alien chirrs and trills of the mechanical viscera working in his chassis as he settled on the ground in a sitting position. His back was leaned against the wall, carefully adjusted so his darling paint job was away from the rough concrete. To keep his balance, he rested against his tires and scooched his hips away from the wall, kicking his long legs out with a flourish and gesturing at his lap.

Although he was shorter this way, it was still a climb you didn't want to make while you were damp and the general slip hazard was high. “Can you give me a lift so I can see whatever shit you’re planning?”

“I got you, sugar, don’t even worry about it. Just hang on,” came the reply, and your brain blanked just a little at the feeling of his servos on you again, picking you up just like they had done on that night two weeks ago. With zero effort — seriously, you didn’t even hear any mechanical creaking — you were scooped upwards.

Your damp clothes clung to your body, a fact both you and Mirage were painfully aware of; the chill of the soaked fabric contrasted against that fascinating living heat of your skin nearly made the sensors in his servos short-circuit. He’d thought about this, exactly this, so much that it had probably worn a path into his neural processors. So soft. You were so soft.

A shudder ran up his spinal strut and he prayed you didn’t notice.

You were set down with your feet firmly on the flat tops of his thighs, ignoring the slight wobble in your knees. Arms raised a bit for balance, you looked down at the living machinery beneath you. The flight paths of the butterflies in your stomach grew more frantic. Broad servos released you from their hold, but they didn’t leave; no, they skated down, down, down until they settled on the flare of your hips and stayed. They were so heavy.

A breath caught in your throat like a wild animal in a trap. “If I fall, I’m gonna be so pissed off. You know that, right?” Anything to make this more normal. You had no idea how you kept the shake out of your voice.

“Relaaax, hot stuff, I’m on it. I got it, I got it,” he replied, his voice a full octave lower than what you were used to. “‘sides, I’m Mirage, remember? Protecting humans is kinda my thing.”

You scoffed. “Not with the way you drive.”

“Hey, I drive perfectly fine! You’re the one who’s scared of fun.” His servos left your hips to brace themselves on the floor. “Mirage, don’t drive so fast! Mirage, that’s a red light! Mirage, there are cops behind us!” His voice pitched up into something high and nasally to poorly, poorly mimic yours.

It was your turn to be affronted, though your mouth was open in a disbelieving sort of smile. “I don’t even sound like that, you fucker! And sorry for trying to keep us from getting arrested!”

“I dunno, you all sorta sound the same to our audio processors.” He was lying, and blatantly so. He had the distinct tone and pitch of your voice memorized down to the wavelength. “And besides, we wouldn’t get arrested.” His own voice took on a smug, self-satisfied edge, accompanied by the raise of his brow ridges.

“Oh, really? Why’s that? Please, enlighten me,” you snarked, crossing your arms over your chest and staring him down. In response, he leaned his head in, closer to you, closer than you expected, and an insufferable smirk crawled across his faceplates.

“Cuz cop cars can’t drive that fast,” he whispered conspiratorially, like it was a clever response.

What should have been a minute movement — just a shift of the head — actually became very noticeable on a twelve-foot-frame; his hips repositioned of their own accord to account for the redistribution of weight, and the change was enough to trip you up. Especially when you had been leaning in already to match his movement.

The world tilted as you started to fall forward; fearing injury or worse by tumbling off your semi-precarious perch, you jammed your hands out in front of you—

And slammed your palms directly on his chassis. It was all very fast after that. Mortified, you stared down at the planes of metal beneath you, feeling heat creep up, up, up your neck and seep into your face. Mirage had cursed above you out of surprise, and you felt the displacement of air as his servo shot up behind your back and hovered. Right there. He was right there, and he always would be.

You raised your head and made eye contact, and you knew it was over. His optics were wide with surprise, and they searched your face for any expression of pain or discontent. They cycled once, seeing none, and then flickered down to your lips.

He was so done for. Something in his expression sagged at your proximity; in his field of view, he saw an alert stating that his internal temperature was rising beyond ideal levels, and he would have laughed if not for you. Finally. Finally. Finally. He was half-expecting this to be a dream, something cooked up by his fried processors that he would wake up from any minute now. 

His servo was still hovering over your back.

“Can I—“

“Yes,” you said immediately in a sharp exhale — before he could even get the question out — and there it all went.

He surged forward like a flood from a dam, closing the distance between the both of you with a hungry rev of his engine. Explaining the logistics of it would sound silly; all you could do was go with the flow, just like every other time you’d ever kissed someone. All you knew was that it was satisfying, supremely so, and completely encompassing. Every sense was filled by him, and you realized with a kick of your heart that you never wanted it any other way.

Though your hand shook, you shoved past the fear and indulged in everything you had wanted for weeks, let yourself sink deep into that pit of want and refused to come up for air. Your fingers skated his curves and edges; you brought your palm up to the sharp angles of his jaw and smoothed it upward until it ran over the curve of his cheek.

He reacted to your touch like it was a live wire. Minute jerks of excitement ran through his frame, and when your hand rested on the side of his face, he tilted his helm into the kiss with barely restrained excitement. He was so careful, it made something inside you purr. That kind of caution was only reserved for something precious. You were precious. He couldn’t ever risk hurting you. Especially not by his own hand.

First impression was that his lips were far softer than you’d ever assumed. Pliable, hot metal pressed greedily against your mouth — more, more, more was a mantra echoed wordlessly between the both of you. The hovering servo came to rest on your back, pushing your front against his chassis as you shifted up on your toes to keep the angle of the kiss correct. Digits splayed against the planes of skin they found there, pressing down to feel your warmth — your heart slammed against your ribs so hard that Mirage could probably feel it against his palm.

With a hot flash, you wondered if the metal of his lips would bear the dent of your teeth from a bite. So you bit. It was more of a playful nip than anything, but the reaction you got was so instantaneous it was like Mirage had been waiting for it. Again, his engine throttled, the powerful rumble surging through you as his servo pinned you to his chassis. Against your mouth, his lips ticked up into a smile.

Air. You needed air. He let you pull away with no resistance, though his head did trail after your mouth for a moment.

You let your forehead sink down and rest against the top of his chassis for a moment; the condensation from your breath fogged the metal. Out of nowhere, manic giggles erupted from you. They shook your body incessantly as you rose and fell in time with Mirage’s heavy vents, your knees feeling weak and mind frazzled. From one kiss. One.

Laughter rocked his frame too, short chuckles of disbelief as his thumb rubbed circles into your back.

“Oh my god,” you murmured into the warm metal beneath you through shocks of giggles.

“Not exactly, but, eh, I’ll take it,” Mirage replied above you, and while he laughed at his own joke, you groaned and whacked him lightly with a palm. It wasn’t like he was unaffected though — far from it, in fact, judging from the steadily heating chassis beneath you and the tinge of static fringing his words.

“Bring me up,” you said hoarsely, twisting an arm behind you to paw at the servo on your back.

Without question, his other servo came up and curled under your thighs, hoisting you up so that his face was easier to reach. With most of your body now resting on his chassis and very much secured in his grip, you grasped his face in both your palms; he leaned so far into your touch with a shaky ex-vent that your noses almost brushed.

“Again?”

“Yeah, again,” he agreed, and this time you pulled him in, fingers hooking in some unseen seam behind his jaw as you crushed your mouth against his. Hunger, latent and now finally triggered, drove you closer, as close as you physically could, until your skin was starting to hurt from the random edges being pressed into it.

Curious above all else, you licked your tongue into the front of his mouth. The searing heat inside surprised you; it teetered on the edge of uncomfortable and reminded you very much of your computer at home when it ran for too long, with that special kind of mechanical stress and burning warmth that only came with overworked processors.

“‘S like that, is it?” he murmured into your mouth with a grin, his engine kicking up a notch and the vibration of his chassis hitting you very nicely right where you needed it most. You made some soft noise, half-gasp, half-groan, and hiked one of your legs up so it was bent at the knee, flattening your hips against his chest and fuck, there it was. The consistent rumble of his motor pressed a steady vibration right into your cunt over the seam of your jeans; a particular grind made you gasp and falter as you rolled your clit against the line of denim and held it there.

“Whoa-ho-ho! Heyyy, hot stuff, something feel good down there?” His voice was bursting at the seams with some rich kind of excitement; you breathed into his neck cabling as your hips jerked a little against his chassis. One servo pawed at your ass, clumsy with its eagerness, gripping and massaging the soft flesh it found there with intent.

Experimentally, his servo pressed down, pushing your pelvis down with it, and the pressure on your clit pulled a groan of satisfaction out of you that had his cooling fans sputter.

“Fuck,” you hissed through gritted teeth, and before he could say something stupid, you leaned your head down and pressed kisses to the delicate cabling of his neck.

A delighted noise rattled out of him, and his helm rolled back against the wall to allow you more access. Impatient, your kisses soon turned to bites, playful nips that tugged at the sensitive wiring and made his body jolt beneath yours like he’d been shocked. To your utter delight, you found that Mirage’s proclivity for talking extended to situations like these, too — noises streamed from his mouth as your curious teeth and hands worked over such a fragile part of his anatomy in ways that only a human could.

“Oh, Primus, babe, babe—“ he stammered out, and you lifted your head for just long enough of a window to allow him to swoop down and kiss you again, feverishly now.

Something thick and wet prodded past your teeth experimentally. For just a second you balked— and then remembered it was his glossa. His tongue. Yeah, you remembered that from your anatomy lesson; he’d stuck it out and pointed at it in a dumb way then, but fuck if it didn’t have your thighs tightening now. The hot biomesh probed your mouth, and it was so big you inadvertently drooled around it — but Mirage didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, you were pretty sure the spit dripping from your mouth around him was getting him even more worked up, judged by the way his digits tightened their grip on your ass.

You had been cold when you’d walked in that garage. Keyword there was had. Now your skin seared with a deep flush and steadily increasing heat; mindlessly, your hips started a slow, staccato rhythm that kept your breathing heavy. The servo on your back slid upwards to the point where it encompassed the back of both your neck and head. He could not get enough of your taste. He wanted it burned into the sensors on his glossa, for all he cared. Spit and lubricant swapped between the both of your mouths — you found that the metallic taste that seeped into your tongue did nothing but turn you on further.

Pulling away again for a deep inhale of air, you propped yourself semi-awkwardly on an elbow to look at him. Open adoration was written across his faceplates, along with blatant want that made his optics cycle frantically.

“I thought you were— fuck, I thought you were supposed to be drying me off,” you said, breaking in the middle of your sentence as his servo carefully started to move you. Just barely — just enough pressure to keep your hips working against him and chasing your pleasure.

“You really wanna?” He grinned at you, spit shiny on his chin. “I dunno about you, but I think I’m likin’ you being wet more.”

“You’re awful. That was terrible,” you laughed, brain foggy with arousal and general swelling affection for the bot underneath you.

“How many more of those you got left in you before you start admitting the truth that I’m the funniest bot you’ll ever meet?”

“I mean, you don’t exactly have stiff competition.”

“Aaand the best-looking.”

“I dunno… Optimus is kind of—“

“Hey!” he interrupted, bringing you up for another kiss to silence your thought before you could finish it. You happily complied, laughing into the heat of his mouth and then moaning in the same breath as his servo ground you down against his rumbling chassis again.

Hot. You were getting really hot. The damp clothes sticking to your skin were not helping; in fact, they felt as though they were going to start steaming being pressed against your skin like this. Against your wishes, you pulled backwards again, bracing yourself against the warm vents that substituted for his collarbones. They cycled hot, dry air against your fingertips, though it didn’t burn. Not yet, at least.

“Mirage,” you breathed, and that got his attention immediately. “…Are we fucking?”

“Please,” he instantly replied, so eager that it made your cunt throb. His enormous blue optics watched you with such intent that it almost made you want to shrink away from the scrutiny — but you steeled your resolve. You had him, and you had him right where you wanted. Opportunity of a fucking lifetime. You were not about to waste it.

You glanced down for a reprieve from the eye contact. “Fuck,” you swore softly, staring at the metalwork beneath you for a few heartbeats before shaking your head and glancing back upwards at him. “Okay, well— I— Okay. Let me just— do this—“

Hands shaking slightly, you balled your fists in the hem of your work shirt and wrestled it up and off you; the damp fabric lingered and peeled off of you, which made Mirage’s motor throttle powerfully underneath you. Other than that, though, you got no reaction, which made all that heat in your abdomen cool rapidly into a dense ball of abject horror.

Oh, you made a mistake. This was too much, you were too alien, too different—

The servo not supporting you against his chassis slid around from the planes of your back to your front, and you gasped sharply as he did the same fucking thing that drove you insane the first time, however many days ago. His thumb, warm on the palm-side, gently passed over the peak of your chest. His optics narrowed in on the indent in your soft flesh his digit created. Nerve endings in the trail it left behind sparked.

“Oh, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he said reverently, voice steeped in a combination of awe and victory.

Oh-kay! You sucked a deep breath in, a litany of responses running through your head. The boost to your ego was very much appreciated, and it helped lighten the sinking mass of worry that had formed in the pit of your stomach.

Mirage nearly groaned when you placed your soft palm atop the junction of his digit and the heel of his servo. “Do it again,” you decided on, and that worked damn well.

As his servo groped at your chest, he leaned in, tucking his face under your jaw. To accommodate, you tilted your head up and away—

Only to swear into negative space as he very much returned the favor from earlier and began carefully sucking the world’s biggest hickeys into the skin of your neck. Breaths came harsh and choppy as the expanse of his glossa, hot and spit-slick, laved over the gentle bites he worried into your skin with his denta. 

“Ah, Mirage, Mirage,” you breathed; every mention of his name spilling from your bruised lips made his circuitry heat just a little more. It was so much all at once — his servos were so broad that their expanse covered huge swaths of skin at once, and his mouth on such a sensitive part of your anatomy wasn’t helping either. Your hands clawed for purchase against his helm and the back of his neck. One palm flattened as much as it could on the back of his head, trying with all of your laughable human strength to bring him as close as possible. The other ended up cradling the side of his head, your thumb brushing over the audial disk there. With no small amount of wonder, you watched the plates of his back ruffle at your touch.

Mirage wasn’t trying to be weird, but he could die happy so long as he had the taste of your skin still registering on his glossa. It was more addictive than any high-grade he’d had back home by leagues. That human flavor of salt and skin and some kind of sweetness had his processors thrumming at maximum capacity; you made his mouth flood with lubricant, a fact you could corroborate by the amount that spilled over your bare sternum. The feeling of his own spit sliding down your front between your bruised breasts made the muscles of your abdomen twitch. Fingers shaped like claws now, you pressed weak kisses against the smooth curves of his helm wherever you could reach.

Your jeans were just getting in the way at this point. The minute shocks of pleasure you derived from grinding your clit against the inseam were just that — minute. You needed something more now or you were going to get frustrated, and you’d dealt with enough sexual frustration over the past weeks to be very sick of that feeling.

“Oh, fuck, okay— Mirage,” you said breathlessly, giving him a light tap on the side of his helm to get his attention. Reluctantly, he pulled away from your chest, optics dimmed with pleasure. They cycled once and returned to their full brightness as he cleared the fog of arousal — barely — away from his processors.

“All systems go, sugar?” Static hissed underneath his words.

You tried and failed to stifle a snort of a laugh. “Corny ass,” you mumbled, although you were absolutely close enough for his audial sensors to pick up on it. He made a sound of indignation, but you pushed forward regardless. “I, um, I need to get these off.” Hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your jeans to emphasize your point, you glanced up at his optics again.

Blankness for a second. Then it registered. “Oh, right, right, of course, haha! You, uh, want help? Or you got it?”

“I think I can manage taking my pants off,” you laughed. “Just— let me sit on like— the top of your chest, there we go,” you instructed, and the hand under your ass pushed you up until you were turned around and seated on the lip of the top of his chassis. For a second, you wrestled with the denim — still not fully dried — but you managed to kick both your jeans and your shoes off. They were thrown somewhere in the direction of the door. God, you were so glad you locked it.

Underwear went next. There was a beat of hesitation — for what, you weren’t sure — but like you’d done so often as of late, you just ignored your trepidation and worked the elastic down your legs. A laugh barked out of you when you lifted the fabric up and saw the downright ridiculous wet spot that stained the gusset.

“Jesus Christ, look what you did to me,” you said with a faux accusatory tone, holding your panties out for Mirage to inspect. Two digits delicately took them from you; he held them up to his face, so close that it made you blush from sheer embarrassment.

“Wow. You weren’t kiddin’ ‘bout all the wet being in one spot, huh?” He examined them with no small amount of fascination, much to your mortification.

“Mirage! Put those down, oh my god,” you said, covering your mouth with a choked noise.

“What, I can’t admire my work?”

“No you can not.”

Mirage pouted at your denial, and mumbled something about you being no fun, but he still lifted you off his chassis regardless. Like he was helpless to your draw, he pulled you in for another kiss, though he couldn’t stop his mouth from wandering. Down, down, down, until his nose was nestled in your chest and he spoke into the soft flesh of your stomach. Shaky ex-vents tickled the damp skin there.

“Shit, baby, tastes so good,” he mumbled, and you were impressed by his ability to sound completely sex-drunk without even having done anything yet.

Your hips rolled against nothing; they bumped into his neck cabling and the top of his chassis fruitlessly, and a noise of frustration eked out of you. Mirage seemed to get the memo and pulled you away. Your body was brought down until your ass was sat firmly on his hips — his interface panel nestled right in front of your dripping cunt — and your back was leaned up against the flat support of his thighs; his knees were tucked up and his pedes placed firm and flat on the floor to give you the most stability. Fumbling for a second before you found somewhere to place your own feet, the enormity and absurdity of the situation brought more of those breathless giggles to your mouth that seized your chest and shook your shoulders.

Toootally breaking Hynek’s scale here. So beyond abduction. Way beyond abduction.

A few careful digits slipped around your knee, wormed their way between your legs. “Can I—“ 

Your thighs fell open without a word.

What had made you fall for Mirage the hardest was his motormouth. He never stopped talking; he always had something stupid to add, something to pitch in with, some silly joke to crack. There was a lightness he teased out of you that even you didn’t expect. But now? Now, for once, he was speechless. It made uncharacteristic shyness flare in your gut and heat your face as he studied your very bare, very human form with slightly parted lips and enormous optics.

His body caught up before his mouth did. The servo on your knee slid over it until it gripped your bare thigh; he watched the flesh shift back and forth under his touch with no small amount of fascination.

“Is it— it’s okay?” Your voice sounded very small. It was a special kind of insecurity to be faced with.

“Oh, yeah, it’s okay. It’s cool, you’re just— just different. A lot different.” He jiggled your thigh again playfully.

“Good kind of different though, right?”

“Very good.” To punctuate it, his engine snarled again, seemingly in response to the drool of your cunt on the hot metal of his interface panel. “Primus, you look good, babe. Shit.”

Ego boost! You smiled. Any other partner — any person — and this would be too much, this position too unflattering, your everything too open… With Mirage, though, it just felt like it always did. Easy.

One of your hands rested atop the servo still holding onto the meat of your thigh. The other slid down over your shining chest, passed over your stomach and pubic mound, and brushed past wiry hair, shiny with slick, in order to slide a finger up your folds. A whine ripped its way out of you at direct contact with your clit after mere heavy petting, and you couldn’t stop yourself from drawing tight circles with your fingers and twitching your hips forward to eke out more of that delicious pressure.

The servo on your thigh dug into your skin. Mirage’s vents became far heavier at the open display of your arousal; it has always been him vying for your attention. Now that it was the other way around, he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Transfluid was seeping between the seams of his interface panel, joining your own fluids in a shiny pool that sent sparks up his struts. He made you like this, made you so wet you dripped, made your clit swollen enough to be visible, made your cunt tight with heat and Primus, he needed you on his spike so bad, he thought he might die without it.

He verbalized these thoughts with an unintelligible noise of adoration.

It was enough encouragement for you to slide down from your clit and venture two fingers into yourself. Zero friction. They glided. Christ, when was the last time you were this wet? You’d slept with a handful of people, especially in your first couple years of college, but you’d never been soaked like this. Mirage’s cooling fans choked at the sight of your fingers vanishing into you. His thumb dug into the crease of your thigh and hip as he leaned just a little closer to watch.

Very little time passed before it devolved into your fingers working inside your walls, crooking against that one spot that made your breath hitch and hips jump. Mindlessly, you ground against your palm, catching your clit on the heel of your hand with a sweet moan that nearly shorted out his processors. He had to hear that again. Without thinking, he moved his servo over, resting the digits on your lower stomach and gently, gently nudging the heel of your hand out of the way to replace it with his thumb.

“Ah!” spilled from your lips at the insistent, broad pressure of his thumb, and your hips jerked against it, working your fingers that much deeper. Tears pricked at your eyes from pure sensation. “Mirage, mmm, just— just rub, up and down— or circles, just move, I don’t ca—are,” you floundered, the last word breaking as he did as he was told, carefully sliding his thumb up and down on the bead of your clit and sending twinges of searing pleasure up your spine.

You found quickly that just your fingers weren’t enough. Not when the reminder of his servo lay heavily on your lower stomach, tips of his digits digging into the soft fat there insistently. Although you were loath to part with your hand, you pulled your fingers out with a sigh. Mirage froze, optics flicking to your shiny hand as you spread your fingers, examining the strings of fluid that connected them with a far-off feeling of pride.

“Sugar, you’re killin’ me here,” he groaned, and you saw, for one endearing second, a puff of actual steam rise from the vents near his shoulders as he ex-vented harshly.

“Okay, well, here,” you said, unable to come up with anything clever with the purr of arousal in your cunt fanned by the heat of his interface plate and consistent, maddening rumble of his engine. Your hand, still shiny and wet with your fluids, grasped the top of his servo and gently pushed it downwards, until the tips of his digits rested against your drooling entrance. To fight the whimper that threatened to claw its way out of your throat, you nearly chewed a gash into the inside of your cheek. A gasp of an in-vent jolted his frame in awe.

“You sure? I mean— it’s cool?” His flustered stammering was so damn endearing; supreme affection for him swelled in your chest. 

“I’m sure. Just— just go slow.” His adoration was fueling your bravery. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you; if he did, it would never be intentional, and it would never be something he couldn’t fix.

He paused for a second before remembering the position of your own hand and flipping his servo so it was palm side up; you dragged a large enough breath in to balloon your lungs fully at the sight. Anticipation danced in the burn of your spread thighs. For a few seconds, it was just exploration; his digits slid over your silky folds, collecting the gathered slick with minute trembles. One delicious slide all the way up from entrance to clit had you gasping. Mirage silently thanked Primus above that your whole set-up was similar enough to his valve to know at least some of his way around it. It was just hotter. Wetter. Softer. So much softer.

“‘Raj, just— fuuuck,” you groaned out, your head rolling back as the tip of one digit sank into you, soon followed by the rest as it slid all the way to the base. Stars flickered behind your eyelids. The width matched the two fingers put together you’d just pulled out of yourself, though the texture was so wildly different to anything you’d ever put up there that it made your brain stutter for several moments as your nerve endings processed the feeling. The individual ridges and articulations of his knuckles dragged against the silk of your walls in a way that pulled the breath right out of you; your chest rose and fell rapidly with shallow breaths as your thighs twitched.

You were a mess. Mirage was in love. “Holy shit, baby, I get you this bad?” It was only partly teasing. “l— fuck, a second one good?”

“Good, yes, please.”

All thoughts were wiped clean from the forefront of your brain with the addition of a second digit. Slick noises and the sound of dripping fluids landing on metal and concrete filled your ears over the steadily climbing racket that Mirage’s entire body was making — his cooling fans competed with his engine to make the most noise, over top of the typical whirs and clicks that came with his motion. You couldn’t look, could only feel with your eyes squeezed shut as Mirage pumped both digits in and out, in and out, in and out. One arm was thrown up behind you, hooking loosely around his knee to ground you somewhere. The other was occupied: your hand clutched his wrist like a lifeline, white-knuckling it even as your sweaty palm slipped over the metal cuff. When his thumb returned to your clit, swirling clumsy but eager circles on top of it, that only contributed to the tight, hot coil building in your gut.

Mirage had half a mind to pop his interface panel right then and service himself, because the sight of you, shining with sweat and slick with his spit as you rode his digits, was almost too much to bear. The plush folds of your cunt, tight with arousal, were so soft against the hard planes of metal that comprised his servos; the contrast was short-circuiting him. Under his paneling, his spike was already pressurized. Had been for what felt like hours. Your ass was beginning to slide back and forth just a little due to the transfluid collecting underneath you; the rippling motion of your flesh was driving him insane. As were your walls, Primus, your walls that sucked greedily around his digits as they glided in and out of the tight ring of muscle that made up your entrance.

Your name left his lips in a groan that was an octave too high to be suave. The thought of your cunt clamping down on his spike — so soft, so hot, so wet — like it was doing on his digit had his hips rolling against nothing, working fruitlessly for friction they weren’t getting.

Sweat collected wherever skin touched skin. Condensation fogged wherever skin touched metal. The combination of his digits stretching you, curling in you when he realized what a dramatic reaction it incurred, and his thumb working your clit was getting to be too much. Heartbeat roaring in your ears like the rain outside, you clawed a grip into a seam in his leg and jerked your hips against his servo with breathy noises and gasps that you certainly wouldn’t be proud of later. For now, though, all it did was fuel Mirage’s ego and go straight to his spike.

Almost there. You were almost there, grinding your way towards it, sweat beading on your hot skin—

He pulled out. He pulled his digits out. A keen tore out of you at the loss of feeling, tears springing to your eyes as the hot edge you were so fucking close to fell away, your hips working unconsciously against a servo no longer there. With a gasp of a breath, you wrenched your eyes open, blinking away the collected tears and nearly baring your teeth at the bot beneath you — until you saw what he was doing.

In utter astonishment, you watched as the digits that were just inside you slid into his mouth, peeks of his glossa flashing as it worked them clean.

“Oh fuck,” you said before you could stop yourself. One of your hands slapped over your mouth; you tasted sweat and metal. His optics slid to you, lidded and cycling frantically as he processed your taste. A harsh ex-vent slumped his shoulders — the servo not preoccupied with his mouth clutched your hip like you were something precious.

“Sugar,” he breathed, static grating on the word. “Fuck, c’mere.”

Servos hefted you up, and you clutched onto them out of instinct as he helped you up to his face. Without thinking, you lunged forward to kiss, your tongue seeking out his glossa and tasting yourself with a resurging thrum of arousal. He cut it short, though, ignoring your protests as he cupped your ass in one servo and held you aloft. 

For a second, you stared at him in confusion. “What are you—“ Then it hit you. “Oh.” Your heart rate skyrocketed.

The grin stretching his faceplates was downright devious. “Hang onto something, wouldja? Not that you’re gonna fall. Just want you to enjoy the ride.” A short, heady chuckle rounded out his words.

“You’re insane— oh!” Your lighthearted scold was immediately interrupted by the press of your hips against his face and the slide of his slick glossa over the entirety of your sex. “Oh my fuck!” sobbed out of you as your upper body jackknifed over his helm. One arm curled around it with clawing fingers; the other slammed, palm flat, against the concrete wall.

A groan of satisfaction rumbled into your cunt as the taste of salt and sweat and girl bloomed on his glossa — just like earlier but so much stronger now. The proud line of his nose bumped your clit for a second before his glossa followed, narrowing so he could flick at it experimentally. Lubricant spilling from his mouth mixed with your own slick and ran down his chin; his cooling fans sputtered and spun weakly for a second as he pushed up further against your hips, malleable mesh drawing shapes between your clit and your hole.

Your fingernails scraped against the wall as your hips jerked of their own accord; the edge stolen from you earlier had very much returned, and the feeling of his faceplates sliding over the plush, soft skin of your inner thighs was doing something terrible to you.

“Mirage, ah, ah— I’m— fuck, fuck!” Broken syllables and curses streamed from your lips as a substitute for real words. When he closed his lips around your clit and sucked, it was over. It was so quick, embarrassingly quick. The orgasm that had been building suddenly snapped free and tore through you like a fucking hurricane, leaving spasming muscles and a wonderful endorphin afterglow in its wake. As you sobbed out his name, he slid two digits of his free servo back into you just to give you something to clamp down on, and it made tears spill down your burning cheeks from pure stimulus. Mirage drank you; he wanted nothing more than this, to swallow you down and leave your taste buzzing on his glossa like high-grade. Several thundering heartbeats later found you hunched over his helm as his glossa continued to work lazily against you, forcing twitches out of your thighs from pure overstimulation.

“Okay, okay,” you managed to croak, voice hoarse from weeping moans and boneless from what was probably one of the most insane finishes of your life. You tapped out weakly on the side of his helmet. Reluctantly, he pulled your pussy away from his face and cradled you in both servos, one noticeably damper than the other, in front of him.

His chin was shiny with you, his grin wide and completely self satisfied, and his optics dimmed with pleasure. If you were being honest, he’d never looked better, but in your frazzled state you weren’t sure if you had the capacity to string together enough words to form a compliment.

“I gotta say, compliments to the chef,” he hummed, and you stared at him, words not processing.

“Did you seriously— you just gave me head and that’s what you’re gonna say?”

“Uhh, yeah, babe. And I meant it.”

A genuine laugh shook you. “Oh my god. Ohhh my god. Okay. Well, put me back down there, you corny fuck,” you said with a gesture back at his hips.

“Oooh, keep sayin’ that. I’ll start thinkin’ you mean it.” Your body, errant trembles still running through it, was set carefully down back near its original position. This time, you sat in something closer to a straddle, back straight instead of leaning.

The garage air had gone from temperate and warm to fucking scorching. Outside, the rain droned on, occasional rumbles of thunder sounding so far away that they may as well have not been real. Your entire world had been compressed down to one point — a gravitational singularity in this garage, crushing space and time down until only bricks and concrete stood between you and the oblivion outside. All you knew was living metal and Mirage’s voice, trembling with excitement and fuzzy with static, and that was all you wanted to know. His chassis was making so much noise that you probably, under any other circumstance, would have been concerned; if he blew a gasket fucking you, though, you would wear that with pride.

Pure adoration reflected right back at you from his optics as his servos settled on your hips, his thumbs stroking your slick skin. Any concerns he had about Prime’s reaction to you, or to this — well, maybe not to this specifically, but to the both of you being together — were completely null and void in your presence; the reality of your soft weight in his lap was enough to short out his circuits.

Your hands slid down from the cooling fan in his abdomen spinning at maximum speed towards his soaked interface panel; glancing up at him demurely through your lashes, you spoke.

“You gonna let me return the favor?”

“Huh?” He broke out of his reverie. “Oh, right, um— yeah. Yeah, please.”

A smile crawled over your face at the reminder that despite all the poetic words you could come up with in your head, Mirage was still, and always would be, Mirage. Dazed already, he ran the subroutines to open his interface panel. Machinery shifted with a few clicks, and there was a hiss and an outpour of steam as his spike swung up before you, clearly aching for some kind of touch.

You heard more plates shifting lower, too, and out of curiosity peeked downward; something slick glowed lower down, but the nervous shifting of Mirage’s hips and his closed thighs obscured it from view.

Probably better to just focus on what’s in front of you. Your eyes roamed the length of his array first, your mouth going dry just at the size of it. It was bigger than any toy you owned, anyone you’d slept with, and bigger than his digits, too. Still, though… what were humans if not persevering?

And flexible?

You wrapped a hand around it right below the tip, and a full shudder lanced up Mirage’s frame; it was so thick that there was still space between your fingers and thumb left over. Transfluid, milky in consistency but pearlescent pink in color, spilled from the flared head. Curiosity overtook you, and you swiped a thumb up to catch an errant bead of it as it trailed down the side. The fluid was semi-oily, and smelled… fairly innocuous. Metallic, sure, but that came with the territory.

The array itself was as impressive as it was pretty. Like everything else about Mirage, it was fancy, mostly chrome with blue striping up the sides that led to a fully blue head. The biomesh it was made of — similar to his glossa — gently throbbed with alien pulses as you stared at it. Oh, that was hot. Why was that so hot?

Exploration in full was rewarded with soft noises spilling unbidden from Mirage’s lips, his hips twitching uncontrollably as you carefully slid your hand down from the tip to the base in one fluid motion, feeling the transfluid slick under your fingers. “Mmph, I— ah,” he choked out through gritted denta as you observed him.

Oh. Oh. The realization of the power you held over the big mech made a special kind of arousal thrum through you. Another slow pump had his hips jerk up once and a servo clamp over his mouth.

“This was not included in your anatomy lesson,” you said pointedly, a cheshire grin on your face as you hovered dangerously close to his spike. It throbbed in your grip, working another bead of transfluid out of the tip.

“Oh shit, babe,” he groaned, rolling his helm back against the wall. “Uh— hands— hands-on learning?” he offered weakly, unable to focus on anything other than the soft, damp skin of your palm around his spike.

He made the mistake of looking down as you let spit drool out of your bruised lips and spill over his spike for additional lube, and he snapped his optics shut to avoid from a spontaneous overload right there. The noises he made as you slid your tongue over the head were pitiful.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed, spinal struts clicking as they arched. Primus, was he seriously about to overload in your mouth? Your lips closed around the head and sucked lightly, and he yelped. A servo shot out and carefully grabbed your shoulder, though the tremors running through his digits told you of the restraint he was barely employing. A string of spit and transfluid connected your mouth to his spike as you lifted your head, and he had to force himself to look away for a second with that same servo clutched over his mouth to keep steady. “‘m not gonna last like that, you— can we just—“

“Fuck?”

“Primus, yes.”

“Yeah, we can. I guess.” Despite the leap of excitement in your stomach, you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t even start with that, c’mon,” he said fondly, one servo supporting you as you lifted yourself above his spike and stared down at it with no small amount of trepidation.

It looked a little more manageable from above, but working with something the size of your forearm would cool anyone’s heels, even if there was slick drooling down your inner thighs. Mirage’s servos settled heavy on your hips and you braced yourself on first his knees behind you, then his wrists as you tilted your pelvis to align your entrance as best you could. You sank. The head pressed insistently against your hole. Relax. Relax. Relax.

A deep breath filled your lungs, then whooshed out, deflating your shoulders. Unable to help himself, Mirage inched one of his servos over and ran his thumb through your folds, rolling over your clit and jolting your hips enough to slip the head inside. A long sigh of  “Fuuuuck.” was all that managed to come out of your mouth, your toes curling at the stretch and then the pop of the flared head sliding past your entrance.

Mirage’s entire frame trembled. His vents became shallow and sharp, and the tips of his digits clamped onto the soft meat of your hips desperately as the sensors on his spike reckoned with the realization of just how wet and warm humans really were. “Babe, babe, babe, shit,” he stammered out. “That’s— um, fuck, that’s good!” A weak laugh escaped him as his chin sank down to his chassis, cooling fans hiccuping from stress.

“Hold on, just hold on, I can… shit.” Sweat-dampened palms slid off his wrists for a second before you resituated yourself and leaned back a little, letting your upper back rest against his tucked up thighs. Whatever you were doing worked, because you sank further, and you thanked whatever god was listening that you’d already finished once, making your body quite boneless and that much easier to maneuver.

Mirage, on the other hand, was as taut as a fucking bowstring, made helpless to his own pleasure and completely powerless to you. His optics first scrunched shut, unable to look at you for fear of overloading at the sight of you finally on his spike; then they flew open at the realization that he wanted this burned into his visual processors forever.

Your skin shone with sweat and lubricant; rivulets trailed down your body like a visual pointer to your slick sex, nestled within wiry hair and stretching so beautifully around his spike that it tore an honest-to-Primus whimper out of his vocal synthesizer.

“Mirage, I need you to— mmnh, fuck, I need you to just touch— please,” you gasped, his spike punching the air right out of your lungs. Although your words were broken, he seemed to get the memo, and despite his minute tremors, brought his thumb back to your clit and pressed down. Just the surface area alone made you sigh and roll your head back in pleasure, and it loosened you enough to take him right up until the head nestled against your cervix and your ass brushed his hip plating. There was maybe an inch or two left, but you felt immense pride at managing to work most of his spike in — and immense pleasure, too. If he moved his thumb at all, you were done; you were so fucking full you could barely breathe, and you felt the slow, rhythmic pulses of his biomesh throb through you.

Mirage had never been one for restraint. He did things all-in, one-hundred-and-ten percent, all with a flourish to top it off; the feeling of the hot silk of your walls flexing around his spike just sitting there was enough to quite literally kill his cooling fans via a micro-short in an attempt to divert more power towards keeping his hips still. Senseless praises streamed from his lips, voice whining and roughened by static fuzz. “Yes, yes, yes, sugar, Primus, that’s good— feels so good, please, can I move, please,” he fumbled, jaw slack and optics flickering with the power surges cascading throughout his frame.

“Just— let me start,” was your response, tears pricking at your eyes, and although Mirage groaned pitifully underneath you, he listened.

You had a fair amount of experience with riding toys, and you knew what felt good; the lightbulb above your head became apparent. A shift in your position pushed further weight to the back so that the ridges and nodes of his spike pressed insistently toward the front — though, to be fair, it pressed everywhere — and oh, fuck, right there. Now shoved against that sweet spot inside you, the pleasure teetered on the edge of pain, and you dragged yourself up with a vicious grip on the seams of his thighs behind you. Mirage whined and shifted his hips just slightly; it was enough to pull a moan from your lips as you slid upward. Thick, sluggish droplets of slick swirled with transfluid oozed down his spike. He watched — it was all he could do — with an open mouth and rapidly cycling optics.

The flared head caught against your entrance; a spike (ha!) of pleasure lanced through you. “Okay, now, you can— help me, please,” you stammered out, dizzy with pleasure already and feeling a loopy kind of open-mouthed grin situate itself on your face. 

Your words were all he needed. Although he desperately, desperately wanted to snap his hips up and chase the vice-grip of your slick walls, he’d rather take on Megatron alone with his servos tied behind his back than risk hurting you. Especially while interfacing. He did not want to have to explain that to anyone.

Thumb slowly working your clit, his servos gripped your hips just a little too tight and assisted; you could feel the tremors lancing up and down his arms as he helped you establish a rhythm. At a word, the dam would break, but for now, you maintained tenuous control over the mech and over yourself as you rode him with his help.

Well. Rode was a strong word for it; he all but dragged you up and down the length of his spike, earning each of you luxurious groans from the other, but your quivering thigh muscles assisted as best they could. Heat surged through your body at the drag of his nodes against your walls, and you realized with a hot flash that Mirage was going to fucking ruin you for anybody else, and you liked that. Which was good, because he could have stayed buried in your cunt for the rest of his life and offlined happily just like that.

It was good. It was really good. But even the overwhelming stretch wasn’t enough. Just like earlier — it seemed like light years away now — when you’d still had pants on and hadn’t been completely lost to metal-on-skin debauchery, the grind of your clit on the seam of your jeans had been good, but not enough. Your fingers clawed at his wrists. The burn of your thighs from exertion seared through you, mixing with the jolts of pleasure from your clit to create some new, terrible monster that had you twitching with shameless ecstasy.

“Mirage, Mirage,” you croaked, as he slid you down his spike again and pushed it into your lungs, “I’m— fuck, please, faster, please, please.” In any other scenario, your begging would have immensely embarrassed you; now, though, it seemed like the only viable option to get him to fuck you like you needed him to.

“Shit, baby,” he hissed, and you gasped as he kept moving you, legs jerking uselessly. “You— fuck, you sure?”

“Yes, please, just— oh, fuck!” The cry — and the air in your lungs — was knocked right out of you by a single desperate snap of his hips upward, his spike driven straight home. Your entire upper body crumpled forward, kept upright only by a tenuous grip on his wrists, and then he really started fucking you, and you were gone.

His cooling fans surged back to life as he slammed into you, power no longer diverted towards holding the actuators of his hips back. No, now he was fucking jackhammering into you, and you were barely moving as his spike pistoned in and out of you, slick drooling from your cunt. Like he remembered himself, his thumb began to work furiously against your clit, and you rewarded him with a gasp and more than a few uncontrollable moans of his name, which only served to fuel him more.

Not like he was being quiet, either. You were glad that the building was solid brick and the rain continued to pour outside, because the amount of noise coming from his chassis and spilling from his lips was worrying. Praises and broken mentions of your name streamed from him; he tossed his helm back against the wall with his optics squeezed shut to keep from overloading prematurely. It was too much— it was way too fucking much. Your poor overworked cunt was nearly bruised with sensitivity, barely able to keep up with the stretch of his spike as the nodes pulsing along it raked that sweet spot inside of you mercilessly. Neither of you were going to last long; not your fragile human body nor his torqued-up frame could handle much more of this.

Every sharp thrust paired with the frantic, messy circles he pressed into your clit brought you viciously closer and spilled tears from your eyes. All you could really do was hold on as Mirage wrung pleasure from both your body and his. Impossibly, his thumb worked faster, his pace got even more brutal, and you were almost seizing from pleasure as your nerve endings were frayed raw. That peak was building in your gut, that familiar tight coil of heat, for the second time that night, and you knew it was going to completely destroy you, and you wanted it to.

Without warning, Mirage spread his knees apart, slammed his pedes flat on the floor, and thrusted up. His spinal struts arched again to get his spike that much further inside of your yielding body, his overload imminent and warning signs flashing in his optics’ periphery. “Fuck, yes— yes, baby, yes, yes, ah, shit!” His frenzied whine rang in your ears as steam from his vents heated the air around you; the only thing that rang in your ears besides your thunderous heartbeat was the heady slap of skin against metal, everything slick with your combined fluids.

You responded in kind at the new angle with a cry of his name and some noises that resembled words, but the way he sheathed his spike inside you — fuck, was it all the way in? — and ground his thumb against your clit was too much— too much— you couldn’t—

You shattered. Doubling over from pleasure, you sobbed incoherently as your climax slammed into you. Pleasure crackled through your veins like lightning; a fog of pleasure dulled your senses until the only thing you could focus on was his spike pulsing in your cunt and his thumb still grinding against your clit. Tears pricked at your eyes, joining the ones already wetting your cheeks, as jolts of pleasure lanced up your spine. Maybe you moaned his name, maybe you didn’t. You couldn’t tell.

Mirage went soon after you, because the feeling of your walls clamping around his spike as if trying to suck him in impossibly further did him in instantly. His optics snapped open wide before slamming shut and he cried your name as the best overload of his life wracked his frame; the actuators of his hips trembled violently, along with his servos, as transfluid gushed into you and was immediately forced out by the pure lack of room inside your cunt. Engine snarling, cooling fans nearly spinning off their axles, he held your hips as flush to his as possible while the both of you rode out your respective climaxes, twitching around each other violently. Minute jerks of his hips attempted to work more transfluid inside of you. Brain still wiped blank with pleasure, all you could do was make soft noises and let the aftershocks spasm through you.

Consciousness eventually came back to you in gritty waves. Mirage had set your body down, leaned back against his thighs, his spike still seated within you but depressurizing slowly. Transfluid seeped out of your puffy folds, and you lifted a shaking hand to collect some of it and taste it. Metallic. Like you’d expected.

Enormous vents whooshed through his frame as he attempted to cool his chassis; coolant dripped from him, some of it turned to steam by the pure heat of his internal mechanisms. Body shaking and feeling very small and human, you stroked a thumb over his wrist where you held it, feeling both its ambient warmth and a surge of affection. And satisfaction.

You were absolutely going to feel this in the morning, holy shit. Thank God you didn’t have work tomorrow.

Mirage eventually came back down to earth, his optics cracking open and cycling a few times before they flared to their usual brightness. Lids heavy and a dopey grin on his face, he carefully lifted you off his spike — it slid out of you with a slick noise that made you flush — and brought you up to face-level. With one servo, he held you tight against his torso; he planted the other flat on the floor and resituated his hips so he could slump down further against the wall, his entire frame lax.

Self-satisfaction beamed at you from his faceplates. “Oh, that was good, huh?”

You scoffed, too tired to get riled up at his teasing; you knew he was feeling the same as you. “Yeah, pretty good. I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow, to be totally honest.” An exhausted laugh left you.

“Gonna count that as a win.”

“You… do whatever you want.” You waved a limp hand at him dismissively, letting the rise and fall of his chassis with his vents rock you.

“Well, then, I wanna do this,” he purred, and brought you in for a kiss that communicated all his smug affection without any of his stupid jokes. You returned it gratefully, a smile on each of your mouths as you basked in that pleasant post-sex glow.

The rain still droned outside. A boom of thunder rolled through the building; the lights flickered. Both you and Mirage glanced upward. His optics slid back down to you first.

“You thinkin’ about going anywhere in this weather?” he asked, raising a brow ridge.

“I dunno, do I have a ride?”

“Nah,” he replied playfully, kissing you again, and you found that it could storm for the rest of your life, and you wouldn’t really care. So long as you had your favorite — yes, your favorite, not that you could ever admit around him — to keep you company.

[jaylver]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL — P.JS

SYNOPSIS: Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl.

PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!jay x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers to frenemies to lovers, fake dating au, college sports au, romance, fluff, angst, secret pining

WARNING(S): drinking, parties, profanities, slight violence, possessive jay, mentions/hints of cheating, miscommunication, slow burn-ish, a pinch of suggestiveness

WC: 21k

AUTHOR NOTES: yes, the title is based on taylor swift's song, the story is lowkey inspired from it hehe! i also included a scene which was inspired from "sleet kitten" so credits to that ;) PLEASE LEAVE A FEEDBACK! it would mean THE WORLD to me <3 hope you enjoy!

part 2 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

© jaylver 2023

“WHY AM I HERE?”

You found yourself asking your best friend, Minji, only after barely ten minutes of setting foot into the party. Look, you didn’t wish to complain, but a beach party basically equaled sand in shoes, which you absolutely hate and despise, yet you were stuck here against your will.

It all started on a random stroll across campus where Minji brought up the night beach party hosted by some rich frat boy, typical. Being the anti-party person you were, you brushed the idea away initially. Hey, staying in bed with a cup of tea was miles better than having sand in your shoes and frat boys trying to get into your pants, yuck. But eventually, you gave into the idea of relaxing and letting go for once after a horrid chemistry test. How you absolutely regretted that choice now.

“You’re here to enjoy yourself,” Minji hissed through her teeth, holding onto your hand as the two of you walked past strangers. “What’s wrong with getting free booze and some hot hunky beach boys?”

“Everything is wrong with that. Their booze sucks and the beach boys hide at night,” you huffed, hugging your body tight as the wind blew across your face, the smell of sea lingered in the air.

“There are still some cute guys here,” Minji kicked at the sand lightly, staring around where people were littered in groups here and there, a small bonfire alighted in the middle of the beach. “The hockey guys are here,” she nodded at the loudest bunch in the area.

You knew a part of them since you did occasionally stop by to watch a few major hockey games, but definitely not well enough to pair their names to their faces. You spotted the captain first and the one with freshly dyed white hair, who you recognized was also his usual partner on ice, then there was the player with a really odd number, 99. Was it Jason, James or Jeremy? All you could remember was him being number 99 and having a J name, not to mention, an interesting reputation to his name.

"They're cute, don't you think so?" Minji nudged you and you shrugged.

"Cute but fuckboys, and I need them to step up during major games too,"

"You should ignore the hockey part about them. It'll hurt less when they lose," Minji's head turned and she pointed to another group. "The footballers are there too. Trust me, they're bigger fuckboys,"

"Oh, I can tell," you spotted many of them already having a girl by their sides, whispering and giggling while they poured each other more drinks. "This is why I'd rather go back to the dorms,"

"Maybe, maybe not. Something entertaining will eventually happen at these types of parties,"

"I feel like you'll jinx it,"

Minji threw her hands up in defence, raising her eyebrows and shrugging. "Don't blame me, blame the system,"

"There's no system," you shot back, suddenly feeling the need to walk away for a moment as the beach slowly overwhelmed you. (you hated the beach, can't you already tell?) "I need to stop by the restroom for a while, look after my drink, will you?"

You were practically racing to the nearby restroom, finally escaping the area and being able to breathe freely without drunk college students bumping into you. The restroom was basically just a single cubicle, so you were squeezed tightly and you felt uncomfortable as each second passed. You were praying to God that you get to leave this place pronto. 

Leaving the cubicle made you feel slightly more grateful about the beach, but upon only a second from exiting, you started hearing shouts coming not far from where you were. At first, you wondered if you’ve reached the point of hallucination, but following a few more grunts and yells, you knew you weren’t. Your body tensed immediately considering it's a distance from the main area. What could even be happening here?

You knew this was how horror movies usually start, but your curious mind just had to wander off further into the abyss and bring your leg along, so you chose the stupidest decision and followed the distant commotion.

'I'm not dying tonight. I'm not dying at a beach. I'm going to be fine' were the affirmations you repeated in your head, though you felt quite the opposite of that.

"Fuck you, are you banging my girl?"

That was when you stopped in your tracks completely, thrown absolutely off guard, eyes widened and lips forming into an 'O'. It wasn't a murder case, but from the way the conversation sounded, it was about to be one.

"I didn't bang your girl, who the fuck are you?" Another voice spat back and you inched closer, hiding behind the other cubicle and you peeked your head out, shocked at the sight before you. 

There was already a small crowd surrounding the commotion, who wouldn't want to miss a free show anyway? But the bigger matter on hand was the centre of attention, the two guys were the campus' well known hockey player and footballer. 

You recognized the footballer at once, remembering the time where Minji practically shoved his Instagram profile into your face. Yoon Keeho. Star player paired along with his amazing features, he was a popular figure who had a popular girlfriend from the dance team, Karina. They were basically every comics' perfect couple.

Then there was the hockey player, your jaw could only hang lower in plain shock. Mr 99, hockey star and infamous playboy, you knew he was trouble, but this kind of trouble? A little unexpected from him.

"Look man, I know people say I fuck around a lot, but I never fucked her!" It was obvious Mr 99 was starting to get heated, but the footballer was relentless in egging him on.

"Oh fuck off man, I know you did it!"

This back and forth had you rolling your eyes, eventually getting bored from the “no I didn't”s and “yes you did”s thrown back and forth, so you slowly crept back, trying your best to avoid tripping over rocks and shells.

'Crack' 

You spoke too soon. Way too soon.

"Hey!"

You took a few cautious steps ahead. Maybe if you just pretend nothing happened and continue walking, it would be fine. Maybe if you walked away, he wouldn't notice—

"Hey!"

You squeezed your eyes shut, contemplating between immediate death or a quick dash away, but neither could be decided when the voice kept on calling after you, ruining your patience completely and you whipped around, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Yes?"

Mr 99 stared back at you, a sinister look in his eyes. From the looks of it, he had something evil brewing in that head of his and soon, you were about to be the victim of his dodgy plan.

What came out of his lips next definitely made you wish you were home instead and simultaneously, wishing you had the freedom to strangle him. This fucker—

"That's my girlfriend there, she can vouch for me," you heard him telling Keeho, a smug smile on his face. Girl … friend? Gasps were heard and all eyes were on you in an instance. "Come here, babe, I've been looking for you!"

You blinked, your body absolutely rigid and unmoving as if paralysed. This couldn't be happening, right? Please wake me up from this dream. I'm just hallucinating—

"Babe, come on," your brief dissociation had you completely unaware that Mr 99 was now in front of you, dragging you by your wrist towards the scene of commotion. 

"What are you doing?" You whispered harshly into his ear, making sure it wasn't loud enough for the other couple to realise from a distance away.

"Play along, please, I'll pay you," he pleaded, desperation clear in his voice. Who were you to say no to free cash? Nevertheless, you still hated being the centre of attention, and Mr 99 here was only making matters worse.

"I don't even know you,"

"I'm Jay from literature, so technically now you do. Just help me for a few minutes," he grunted through his gritted teeth, flashing his best version of puppy eyes that failed to execute its purpose. 

“Do you even know my name?” you hissed lowly, glaring pointedly at him. He could only sigh in exasperation. He had the audacity to seem annoyed while you were literally the one who’s getting dragged to her demise. 

“You’re Y/N from English literature. We have the same classes and I’m not a douche for not knowing my classmates, okay?” you were slightly pleased, but not enough to be someone’s fake girlfriend for show. Against your free will, you and Jay were finally standing face to face with the couple. 

"So you're his girlfriend?" Keeho had an eyebrow raised, a sense of accusation and suspicion in his gaze. He was so not buying this.

You glanced at Jay, face twisted in uneasiness, not loving the idea of this, but instead, he shot you an encouraging look which was screaming 'go on, tell him'. "Y–yeah. Girlfriend,"

Keeho was unconvinced and you couldn't blame him, you were doing a shit job at pretending to be someone you weren't. "Where was your boyfriend yesterday at night? Was he out?"

"He—" the words got stuck in your throat and Jay raised his eyebrows at you, mouthing some random words you totally couldn't decipher. "He went out on a date with me,"

"To?"

"Baskin Robbins …?"

Keeho remained unamused, his girlfriend holding onto him snickering silently under her breath, and you, on the other hand, got naturally defensive.

"What's wrong with ice cream? At least my man cared enough to bring me out for ice cream dates instead of letting me cheat on him freely. Just saying,"

"What?"

Now it was Keeho and Jay's turn to stare at you with their jaws hung low. Karina's face gradually grew scarlet, her lips twisted into a snarl. "What do you even know about my relationship? Keep out of my business, you bitch,"

"Hey, who the fuck are you to call her a bitch?" Jay stepped in front of you, an arm shielding you and Karina cowered away. Damn, he was good at this.

"Don't talk to her like that, you fuck," Keeho spat at Jay, daringly pushing Jay on the chest and he stumbled slightly into your arms. 

Jay scoffed, brushing his front and adjusted his shirt, shaking his head a little. "You're such a dick, Yoon Keeho. You're the prime example why I hate footballers,"

"And you hockey players are the reason why you're dragging the school's name to the ground,"

"Save the talk, we literally won the playoffs while you and your team could barely crawl to the top—"

You gasped, and so did everyone else watching. Keeho had thrown a hard punch across Jay's pretty face, which meant Jay's aggravation unfortunately worked a little too well on the footballer. 

To your surprise, Jay took the hit better than you'd expected. He did seem taken aback at the start, but then he started laughing instead. Was he secretly psychotic?

You would be lying if you said you weren't shell shocked initially, but after a moment of recovery, you peeked over his shoulder, staring at his face for any obvious bleeding or bruising, unaware of how close your face was to his.

"You okay, big man?"

"Took it like a champ," he muttered back, a smirk pulled at his lips, seeming as though nothing had even happened. "Permission for me to punch him back, girlfriend?"

"He's all yours. Go beat his ass, boyfriend,"

Jay shrugged nonchalantly, rubbing the side of his face roughly and in a flash, he threw a punch back at Keeho and panicked whispers broke out in the crowd.

"Look man, this is a misunderstanding, I totally didn't fuck your girlfriend," Jay panted, his eyes narrowing at Karina. 

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped back, but her voice wavered, giving away the fact that she was obviously hiding something and was intimidated by the way Jay could see right through her.

"Oh come on, fess up, I'm pretty sure I saw you with Yeonjun," 

Karina stilled, her eyes beginning to twitch. Bingo. You didn’t sit through a boring psychology talk once for nothing.

"You don't know shit about me,"

"Okay, say that to Yeonjun the next time he finds you," 

Maybe you did regret having too big of a mouth. You just had to blabber on and agitate the mean girl and now you were reenacting a scene from one of your favourite high school rom coms. 

Before you could even register what's happening, you felt a sharp tug at your hair and pain washed over your whole head. Getting bald wasn't the thing you wished for upon reaching here. You screamed on instinct, reaching over to grab Karina's hair in defence, invoking a loud cry from her.

Jay and Keeho were left stunned at the turn of events. Hell, you were stunned at the attack yourself. Who would've thought you would be sacrificing strands of hair to Miss Dancer? They eventually came to their senses (thank heavens) and tried to pull you and Karina off of each other. It was strenuous work just trying to break you two apart, your hand was unwilling to let go and neither were hers.

She might’ve been a dancer, but you’ve experienced more fights than this. Jay managed to rip you off of Karina and you were left dishevelled, heaving heavily, Jay's hands wrapped around your chest from the back.

"Calm down. Breathe. You're so close to ripping all her hair out," he whispered into your ear, his breath fanning your ears. If you weren't so out of breath and adrenaline spiked, you would be weak in the knees by now. 

"Good. She was the one who laid her hands on me first," you spat, glaring straight at her and she did the same, hair and attire equally as messy as yours. 

"Look man," Jay called out to Keeho, grabbing his attention away from his murderous girlfriend. "I might fuck around a lot, but I swear I didn't touch your girl. I never stoop that low and you know it. Go ask her for the truth yourself, I'm leaving now,"

Jay got ahold of your hand and pulled you away from the wandering eyes and lingering attention. You almost got a whiplash, unable to even yourself completely together and digest what even went on before he dragged you towards the main area. 

"Woah, woah, wait," you yanked your arm away, stopping abruptly which made Jay turn around, a questioning look on his face. Why is he looking at me like that? You thought as you crossed your arms.

"Look, you might've saved my ass from Miss Crazy over there, but the part where you dragged me in your stupid drama, so not cool," 

"I know, I'm sorry, okay? You were just coincidentally … there,"

"Wow," you exclaimed in disbelief, face scrunched in slight distaste. "Girlfriend, huh … I hate to burst your bubble but there were people there and if—" you poked at his chest and he stared at you, a slight smirk on his lips, "—people actually believe we're dating, I'll beat you up,"

"What's so wrong about me?" He whistled, leaning down to meet your challenging gaze, a sarcastic grin wide on that devilish face of his. Maybe if he wasn't this annoying, you would've found him pants-dropping hot.

"I hate you," you continued your journey back, brushing past him and he could only let out a laugh at your words.

"Oh, come on," he caught your wrist and pulled you to him, making you land on his chest with a soft thud. If only someone could take a picture of this, it would be something straight out of a 2000s classic romcom.

"You're ridiculous, let go," you tried to get your hand out of his, but he persisted in holding onto you. 

Pushing and pulling was something you hated. Whether it was in relationships or just whatever this was, you wished it was gone, because in the next second of tug of war, one of you decided to lose balance and fall to ground.

To your biggest nightmare and headache, you ended up lying on top of Mr 99, Jay, the devil in disguise. The beach was already a nightmare for you, but a fucking man under you? You wished you could disappear now.

"Do you always like this position?" 

"If only I could choke you to death in it, then sure,"

"Kinky. You're really romantic,"

"I know," you gritted out, finally mustering all your energy to push yourself up and away from Jay, almost losing your balance in the process. You definitely wouldn't want to fall on him again.

You dusted sand off of your shorts, peeking slightly at Jay, who remained on the ground, his hands behind his head to support him as his stare remained on you, a small smile on his face. You truly wondered what was running through that head of his. Knowing him, it was probably nothing good.

“Do you think we’ll meet again after this?”

You scoffed, a frown etched on your features. “You’re acting like I’m cinderella. I’m on the campus,”

“I mean, we both might be on campus, but that doesn’t mean we’ll cross path,”

“It sounds like you’re trying to propose something—” Jay opened his mouth to respond, but you continued off, not letting him interrupt, “—whatever it is, it’s a ‘no’ from me, okay?”

“Alright, rude,” Jay pushed his body up from the sands, sitting cross legged paired with an offended look. “I’m not trying to propose anything. What’s that dirty mind of yours thinking? I was simply wondering,”

You squinted at him, doubt in your gaze and your face scrunched, humming softly. “Let’s leave our next meeting to fate again. I’m afraid if I keep seeing you I might—”

“Fall in love?”

“Explode. Close enough,” you grimaced, shaking the sand off your shoes. "Look, I'm leaving now. Good luck on not getting beat up again," you turned to leave, but halting once Jay spoke again.

"Will I be seeing you at my matches?"

You pondered for a second, then shrugged. "Depends. I'm not a big hockey fan, but who knows?"

You heard a small chuckle from Jay, rolling your eyes a little. "Fine by me. Let's see how fate sets us up then, Y/N."

You wished fate didn't set you and him up. You wished fate would never ever do so. You didn’t wait for another minute and quickly dashed away, finding your way back to the main area that (thankfully) wasn’t far from where you were. It seemed that the fight didn’t reach the main area where everyone was from the way they were all dancing and drinking like normal.

“Where were you?” Minji pulled you close to her once you had managed to locate her amongst the bunch, concern laced in her voice. “And what the fuck happened to you? Why’s your hair messed up? Wait—” the worry in her gaze soon turned into suspicion. “You didn’t have a secret hookup right?”

“What? No!” you shrieked, glancing around in slight embarrassment at your voice rising unintentionally. Just thinking about what had happened just now gave you a first degree burn of embarrassment, it was going to be your first and last experience, never again. “I … got into a fight,”

“You what?”

“Listen,” you placed a hand on Minji’s shoulder, trying to calm her down while inching closer and making sure to keep your voice down. “I stumbled upon a messy couple related drama and somehow I got roped into it. It’s all Jong Seong’s fault, okay?”

“Jay? What did he do?”

“Accused of fucking Keeho’s girl. It would be funny to witness the whole thing without being apart of it, honestly,”

“I need more context,”

“He called me his girlfriend so that I could vouch for him and I said something bad to Keeho’s girlfriend so we … kinda got into a tussle,”

Minji was stunned to say the least, but there was still a hint of amusement from the way she smiled.  “I won’t directly say she deserves it, but she does,” she let out a small laugh and you two shared a look before bursting out laughing, having to hold your chest from the random jokes she threw in between.

“So, time for us to leave?”

“Fucking finally, I was waiting for you to say this,”

“No girls trips to the beach in the future, huh?”

“Nope.” you mumbled, letting Minji wrap an arm around your waist as the both of you start making your way to Minji’s car. You strangely felt a pair of wandering eyes pinpointed on you and you turned your head slightly to the right, meeting Jay’s playful gaze among his group of hockey guys. It was barely a second before you were dragged away anyway, leaving you minimal chances to process anything.

Park Jong Seong, please don’t ever drag me into your schemes ever again. Fuck it, let’s never cross paths again.

IT SEEMS THAT FATE HAS PLAYED ITS ROLE ONCE MORE IN TORTURING YOU.

In what way was ‘never getting involved with Park Jong Seong’ so hard to understand, huh, fate? You found yourself having an angry internal monologue on the way back to your dorms, your coffee threatening to spill out of the cup with the aggressiveness in your walk. It all started out like this: you just got your donut for the morning, walking to lecture with your earphones blasting your favourite music, what could possibly go wrong? Everything.

You were just walking as per usual, until a girl tapped you from the back, and like every normal person does, you stopped and turned around, a confused look on your face. Who’s this? You wondered. That’s the last thought you could form before everything started crumbling eventually.

First, she asked whether you were dating Jay. Eye roll. You knew this was bound to happen. So, you said ‘no’, which was a reasonable answer since you were, in fact, not dating him. But the girl thought otherwise. You turned to leave, halfway to shoving back your earphones in when she grabbed hold of your wrist. Woah. 

“I know you’re dating him, everyone do after he made y’all official during that party,”

“Okay…?” it was no use trying to fight back with her persistence, so you just went along with it, not knowing what you were even getting into.

“You do know he fucked me before right—?” TMI much. “Can you tell him to come over and get his stuff? It feels wrong having a man’s stuff around knowing he’s in a relationship,”

“Oh,” was all you could muster out. This whirlwind of information being smacked into your face at 10 in the morning was something you hadn’t expected. “You can tell him that yourself. I’m … busy. I have to go,”

Like any sane person would, you dashed away, possibly leaving the girl in a confused daze but you couldn’t care less, pulling out your phone to angrily type Jay’s Instagram handle and sending him an annoyed text message.

you: a girl just told me she fucked you and she felt it was wrong that you left your stuff while you’re ‘dating’ me. can you please sort this out? istg i’ve been asked too many times whether i’m dating you today fr

Not even after a minute of sending that, Jay replied back at once. 

jaypjs: how did you know what my Insta profile is?

You rolled your eyes, your fingers working hard but careful to not accidentally break your screen with the vigour you had whilst typing.

you: is that so important right now? can you at least answer my question?

jaypjs: just ignore it, it’ll pass soon, i swear. ttyl i have practice ;) 

Jerk. 

As much as Jay had asked you to ignore it, it seemed to have backfired instead. At the library, cafeteria, girl’s restroom, you were bombarded with the same question over and over again. ‘Are you dating Jay?’ You swore if you had a dollar everytime someone had asked you this question, you would’ve been a billionaire by now.

Evening soon fell upon the campus grounds, students were rushing around to find a place for dinner, but the hockey team were still remained in training, and being you, you just had to impulsively barge into the arena, practically rushing down the stairs to the glass panes, spotting your target at first glance. 

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find him mesmerizingly attractive in that split moment. He reminded you of someone that had just appeared straight out of a scene from ‘Top Gun’, except on ice. He had his helmet in his hand, his hair wet with sweat, his eyes trained on his coach as he lectured the team on that and this.

You thought your staring had gone unnoticed, but that’s when one of his teammates pointed at you, his gaze turning to you now, a hint of curiosity and surprise in his face. If only he knew you were actually there to murder him.

“Y/N?” You heard his muffled voice through the glass as he skated towards you right after his coach had dismissed them, inching closer and closer until there was barely any distance, only a singular glass pane separating you two apart.

“Jay,” you started, pushing down whatever volcano that was close to bursting inside you right now. 

“Did my girlfriend miss me so much until she decided to give me a surprise visit?”

“If I hear that word one more time today, I think I might jump down the nearest building,” you snapped, poking a finger on the glass threateningly. “Look, I’m here because we need to talk—why does this sound like an actual couple conversation—whatever, just get your ass out here immediately,”

“Fine, fine,” Jay threw his hands up in defeat, sensing the seriousness in your voice, you did not come to play. “I’ll be out in a second,”

He disappeared out of sight, and to your dismay, that left his teammates a great opportunity to approach you. Just your luck, huh?

“You’re dating Jay?” the captain, Heeseung, shouted over at you, waving his hockey stick in the air in an attempt to grab your attention.

“It’s complicated,”

“Friends with benefits?” the one with a head of freshly dyed white hair, Sunghoon, chimed in. You recognized the both of them from the party, what are the odds?

“Non-physical type of complicated,”

“That does sound complicated,” Heeseung hummed, practising passes with Sunghoon. “Played with your feelings?”

“I don’t know if I can count it as that…yet,”

Heeseung and Sunghoon shared a brief glance at one another. “Jay might be a playboy, we all know that, but he’s a softie at heart. Hear him out, he might not look like it, but he’s the best at talking,”

“That’s why he’s so good at picking up girls—” Heeseung slapped Sunghoon’s head, giving you a small reassuring smile while the other winced in pain, not appreciating that one bit.

“I’ll hear him out, don’t worry,” you said rather begrudgingly, sitting down on one of the empty seats now, rubbing your hands for warmth as you awkwardly waited for Jay.

“Stop pestering her already, damn,” Jay’s footsteps were heard thumping down the stairs in the empty arena. “Go wash up,” he slid into the seat next to you, now in clean clothes, a towel hung around his neck, his hair wet and messy, his shirt hugging his body and biceps tight. Lord, give me strength.

“Hey! I’m the captain!” Heeseung shouted, but abided, pushing Sunghoon along and out of the rink, leaving you two to yourselves in the ambiance.

“So, what did you want to … talk about?” Jay stared at you expectantly.

“Us? I suppose, if there’s even an ‘us’ in the first place,” you gestured between you and him. “It’s just everyone’s thinking we’re together and all your past fuck buddies are up my ass for it. So—” you tried to put on the nicest smile you could muster. “—could you please, somehow spread it around that we’re not together?”

“But what if I don’t want to?”

“Jong Seong!”

“Government name and all, it’s serious,” he murmured under his breath, suddenly seeming anxious. “You’re going to kill me for this—”

“As if I’m not going to already,”

“Let me finish,” he pressed a hand on his forehead, running it further back into his hair and he let out a distress sigh. “I know you’re going to hate this but I need your favour in this. I have this hockey event next Saturday, a charity event, and I need a plus one,”

“You’re asking me out on a date basically?”

“Kinda? But not really—this is so stupid—but this event will be after a home match, so our opponents and many others from different schools will be a part of this event. The thing is…our opponent, one of their players, is dating my ex,”

“And?” you raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue on, his cheeks gradually turning red in embarrassment.

“They’ll be there together, and I was hoping—since we’re already in this mess—to bring you as my plus one, to try and prove to her I’m way better off without her,”

“You’re kidding,” you breathed out in disbelief. “Give me one reason why you need to prove to this girl about you being happy and taken,”

“She cheated on me multiple times while we were dating…the guy was one of them and they’re still together surprisingly,”

“Damn, I’m sorry about that,” you swallowed, a little taken aback from the fact that the infamous fuckboy had his heart broken in the past. Maybe that was the starting point of his fuckboy journey. Gosh, everything felt so cliche, you thought you were in a web series by now. “So…you want me to fake date you?”

“Why are you saying it as if the idea of dating me is an offence?”

“Jay, this isn’t some 2000s romcom, for fuck’s sake,” you snapped, your frown deepened and your blood pressure heightened. You swear you might actually explode soon.

“I’m aware,” Jay sighed, a small whine in his voice. He did seem desperate, and you wondered why out of a hundred girls that were practically lining up for this man, you just had to be the one that had to be a part of this mess with him. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Worst of all, you were about to agree to something as dumb as this. “Help me out this once?”

“And what will I get from this?” you crossed your arms, hesitatingly giving in slowly and gradually.

“You like Juyeon don’t you?” Jay questioned all of a sudden, his features remained stoic and serious as he watched you experiencing another whiplash, cheeks turning into a shade of light pink at his bombarding question.

“W–where did you get that information from?” you demanded, completely thrown off. Look, you did say you liked him a little from his sweet smile to his nice style, and not to mention, his athletic side, but it was to Minji, not Jay. How in hell could he have this information?

“I’m not wrong am I?”

“Am I being blackmailed?” you gasped and Jay rolled his eyes, leaning further back into his seat. He wasn’t making this easier by looking good. “I don’t like like him in that type of way, I just think he’s kinda cute,”

“So, you’re interested,”

“You could put it that way, I guess?”

“How about I help you make him jealous,” 

You choked out a laugh, Jay surely succeeded in always surprisingly you with the way his mind turned. “Dude, I literally only know him from that one Chemistry class, and we were partners once. We barely talk now except some greetings,”

“That’s better than nothing,” he mumbled, his lips pressed in a flat line. “Hey, I know him more, okay? He goes to parties and so do I, I can help you get closer to him,” Jay raised his eyebrows, as if trying to convince you that was the smartest plan ever.

“You’re an idiot,”

“I don’t hear a ‘no’,” 

“Don’t push your luck,” you poked his forehead gently, letting out a deep sigh as you contemplated for a second. Future you was going to kill the present you. “Fine. But honestly, I don’t care about Juyeon,”

“I’ll try my best to repay you either way,” Jay beamed, his whole demeanour changing entirely compared to the nervous and shaking version from earlier. “So, what ground rules should we set to make it at least quite convincing?”

“No kissing, unless we are pressured into one,”

“You’re not completely objecting the idea of kissing me,”

“Believe me, I’d rather have virgin lips than kiss you,”

“Ouch,” Jay held onto his chest, feigning hurt. “Wanna try practising?”

“You have other girls to practise on anyway, no thank you,”

“But you’re my only girl now,” he shrugged, staring down at his fingers and avoiding your stare. Was he shy? You would be lying if you said he didn’t make your heart flutter slightly with his words, but you forced yourself to push those thoughts down, denying them instantly.

"Shush," you rolled your eyes, the man opposite you snickering instead. "Maybe a soft launch might work,"

"I literally called you my girlfriend in the middle of a fight, I don't think that's any part of a soft launch,"

"You're right, we've already skipped that part," you tapped at your chin, pondering thoughtfully before Jay interjected.

"You have to come to my matches,"

"Every one of them? I don't watch hockey much,"

"Just be there for show, most of the teammates' girlfriends are there and trust me, they don't care much either," he glanced over at the rink for a brief moment, then turned back to meet your eyes. "You'll fall in love with me the moment you watch me play,"

"Alright, hotshot. When's the next match?"

“This Friday,” he winked, resting an arm on the seat and casually leaning a little closer. “But before that, wanna come to a party? It’s pretty much a ‘pregame party’, that’s what they call it, but I’m sure it’s a lame excuse to just have a party in general for every week. I can pick you up though, we'll get to have our second hard launch,”

“You’re lucky I’m not feeling murderous anymore,” you snapped back, still in disbelief at yourself that you actually agreed to all this. “Pick me up at 7,” you mumbled begrudgingly, watching a smile stretched on Jay’s face.

“Say less.”

“YOU’RE DATING WHO—”

Spilling the tea to Minji on a random Wednesday morning was a chaotic decision. You couldn't help yourself from letting loose all of the information that was bottled up internally. She took everything in rather calmly and fairly, that was until Jay's name was mentioned.

It was just a day before the party, and you couldn't lie, you're starting to panic. What if you didn't know anyone there? What if you're under dressed? What if you're overdressed? What ifs stormed your mind, you were a natural overthinker after all.

"Fake dating," you corrected, cringing once the words left your mouth and you realised how ridiculous it sounded.

“I didn’t know you liked Wattpad cliches so much,”

"Shut up," you muttered half-heartedly, pursing your lips slightly. "Do you think I'll regret this?"

"Will you end up falling for him?" Minji shot back and you hadn't expected that. 

"God forbid," you chuckled, though rather nervously. Chances were low at the moment, but it wasn't completely impossible, and that was the problem. 

“This won’t be like those movies where they pretend to date and actually end up falling in love,” you laughed, trying to play off the hidden horror you had.

"This will come back and bite your ass," Minji said simply, not noticing your wide eyes and panicked gaze.

"Don't jinx it, hello!" 

"My bad," Minji shrugged nonchalantly. “How did he even convince a non party goer like you to attend one?”

“He wants to ‘hard launch’ us for a second time,”

“Cute?” Minji mused, nudging you softly, wiggling her eyebrows. "Any outfits planned?" 

"Nope," you regretted saying this because in the next second, you noticed a menacing grin on Minji's face. If there's one thing you know about her, it's that she loves dress ups, and you were about to be her next model.

Minji dragged you back to your dorm, pushing you onto the bed and ripping your closet doors open, rummaging through intensely.

"This won't do," you heard her mumble quietly before pulling out a mini skirt and a simple crop top. "Bingo,"

"You can't be serious," 

Turns out, she was. Both of the pieces have yet to be worn in a long time, so you didn’t know how it would fit you, leading up to the moment when you tried it on, you instantly felt your head pound. The skirt was God forbiddingly short, the crop top hugging tight against your body. The entirety might've looked plain, but it was a slutty plain.

You were already running late, panic and stress in your system giving you slight adrenaline as you finished up some last touches on your makeup. If Minji wasn't out for a dinner date, you would've been strangling her for the outfit and for the untimely lack of support. 

“You took quite a while in there,” Jay said the moment you entered his luxurious sleek black Mercedes. You knew he was loaded, everyone did actually, but it still managed to shock you somehow.

“I was giving myself a pep talk to not try and run away from this party,” you flashed him a sarcastic smile. 

“Haha,” Jay replied flatly, unamused. “It’ll be an easy party, don’t worry, you won’t get mauled. I’ll just introduce you around and then you go have some drinks, soon we’ll be back before you know it,”

“You’re not drinking right?”

“You think I’d like to be charged with a DUI?”

“Have you ever thought about that when you drive multiple girls home after parties?”

“It’s not nice to slut shame,”

“Whatever you say.”

The car ride to the house was quick and loud. It was calming when you and Jay were vibing to some music along the way up until the two of you started fighting over who was the best rapper in the industry, that eventually led to debating which genre is the greatest. The debate continued on even after entering the threshold, but nervousness washed over you once you were met with unfamiliar faces. 

“Pop is not even considered in this deb—”

“Jay, hold my hand,”

“What—”

“Hold my hand,” you repeated firmly, and he listened despite being in a daze, intertwining his hand in yours, instinctively pulling you closer. “We have to make this convincing, remember?”

“Right,” he squeezed your hand lightly, unknowingly giving you a hint of reassurance. “Stick by me, some of the people here are not the best,”

“Thanks, I can’t wait to get out of here,”

Jay only rolled his eyes at your words, a slight grin tugged at his lips. He held onto your hand tightly, pulling you further into the crowded house, occasionally turning his head back to check on you. “There, my hockey boys,” he nodded towards a small group by a small makeshift bar, instantly recognizing them from that day at the rink.

“What if I told you now that I have social anxiety,” you whispered into his ears, trying to give him your best pleading eyes. 

“It’ll be a little too late now,” he returned a knowing stare, clearly unfazed by your tricks. Smart bastard. “Come on, you’ve already met them anyway,”

“Y/N!” Heeseung was the one who spotted you first, waving his hand enthusiastically, Sunghoon following suit. You returned a small wave, but you tensed, feeling Jay removing his hand from yours, sneaking onto your waist instead. You were not strong enough for this, you were a woman with desires at the end of the day.

“Hey,” Jay greeted them, resting his hand on your hip, your hand unconsciously travelling to his back, his smirk at your touch going unnoticed.

“So, Y/N, is he still in ‘complicated’ status?” Sunghoon brought up, eliciting a small laugh from Heeseung, meanwhile Jay was equally confused and unimpressed at his teammates’ unseriousness.

“Don’t worry, he has upgraded,” you prodded him, passing a pleased smile to the other two.

“Will we be seeing you at our games?”

“Maybe,” you said vaguely, feeling Jay’s hand leaving your hips and sneaking lower towards the hem of your skirt and slowly pulling at it. You turned your head, meeting his eyes and at that moment, you felt something you denied over the last week. You were weak, you were definitely not God’s strongest soldier. It was bare minimum, but you still appreciated the little things. 

“Let’s go walk around,” Jay suggested, leaning close to you, his face only inches away from yours, his hand squeezing your hip gently. Who knew he was this good at acting?

“Don’t be too protective over her, Jay boy!” Sunghoon called out as he dragged you away from his friends, earning a soft laugh from you and grudging mumbles from him. 

“They tend to be quite a handful sometimes, sorry about that,” Jay said apologetically, leading you to a room full of people playing beer pong and some other drinking games. 

“Don’t worry about it, they seem fine,” you brushed him off, pressing yourself closer to his side in caution as your eyes scanned the whole room. “They don’t look like they believe the fact that you’re actually ‘dating’ someone though,”

“They once said they would be married by the time I found someone,” he scoffed, pulling you into an unoccupied coach. “Which isn’t true,” he continued, placing a pillow on your exposed thighs. “I just haven’t found the one, or just not yet. Maybe I already did and I just didn’t know, ”

“Take it easy, loverboy,” you softly punched his shoulder, making him grin a little. He was cute, you couldn’t lie about that, but your heart continued to. “You’re still young, you should be worrying about it only if you’re 35 and single,”

“You’re right,” he nodded solemnly, his attention averted away. "It's Juyeon," 

At that moment, Juyeon walked into the room, greeting some of his friends and welcoming hugs from them, the atmosphere in the room became noisier. Your gaze followed his figure, blinking quicker than usual as you suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of alarm.

"Don't drool," Jay clicked his tongue, his eyes turning fierce. What's up with this guy now?

"I'm not," you gritted out, your heart dropping slightly at the sight of Juyeon interacting with other girls. You were lying when you said you didn't care, maybe you did.

"I don't get why you like him anyway, he's a jock, a football jock," he said the last part in distaste, making it seem as though footballers were the worst on earth.

"It's called being interested, dumbass. Having someone to admire makes college life fun," you fought back, caving into Jay's touch when he draped his arm over your waist. You shouldn't be liking this skinship. You mustn't.

"He's coming over, he spotted us," Jay mumbled, flashing his smile at Juyeon's approaching figure. "Act natural,"

"Thanks for the advice," you gritted out dryly, shifting around uncomfortably.

"Yo Jay," Juyeon called out to Jay, dabbing your supposed boyfriend up, a friendly smile on his face that blinded your vision and made your heart eyes appear. Fuck.

"Sup," Jay greeted back, breathing out a quiet laugh. “Oh, this is—”

“Y/N,” Juyeon finished Jay’s sentence at once, his gaze shifted onto you now, causing you to shy under his stare. “Partner from Chemistry?”

“That’s me,” you beamed at him, clapping your hands together, absentmindedly leaning further into Jay’s hold. 

“I don’t normally see you at these type of parties,”

“Not a big party person,” you scratched the back of your neck, the feeling of awkwardness creeping up on you. You were never the best at meeting new people, though Juyeon wasn’t exactly a total stranger, but he wasn’t someone you were close to either. 

“Right,” he paused for a moment, peering back and forth between you and Jay, a slight raise of his eyebrow. “So what brings the two of you here? You’re Jay’s date for the night?”

“She’s Jay’s girlfriend, actually,” the man himself spoke beside you, his hand on your waist pulling you closer to his side, a tight smile on his face. "My girlfriend,"

You could feel heat crawling up the back of your neck, choosing to avert your attention away and see what Juyeon’s reaction was. Turns out he was grinning, he was fucking grinning? 

“Jay with a girlfriend? For real?”

Jay let out a scoff, seemingly offended by everyone’s surprise. Hell, if you didn’t know him and found out he had a girlfriend, you’ll be surprised too. “Yes, dickhead, surprise,” he grumbled, earning a chuckle from the footballer, who clearly loved irking Jay.

“Chill, good for you, man. About time,” he lightly slapped Jay’s shoulder and you sat quietly, not knowing what to say either. You really wanted to leave. “I’ll be at tomorrow’s match, see you,”

“Yeah, yeah, bye,” Jay bid a half-assed goodbye to Juyeon while you just waved at him instead, a tight lipped smile on your face. Once he was out of the picture, your head whipped to stare at the hockey player next to you, an impatient plea to leave this party written all over your features.

“Fine,” he sighed, letting you slip your hand in his. “How was all that?” he asked coolly, but you noticed a hint of displeasure in his tone, yet you waved it off again.

“I don’t know, he’s … okay, I guess,” you shrugged, truly confused about your current feelings. The thought of Jay stormed your mind. Juyeon? That’s the last J name of your concerns right now. But will you ever admit out loud that you were thinking about Jay, the man who constantly gives you headaches? Fuck no.

“Just ‘okay’?”

You hummed in response, sensing that he was a little bit more at ease after hearing your answer. He was easy to read, too easy.

“Does that make me better than him?”

“Woah, don’t get too ahead of yourself, Park,”

“Don’t hurt my ego like that,”

“Am not,”

“Come on, say I’m better, hotter and funnier than him,” he egged on, inching closer to you, a teasing grin stretched on that stupid face of his. 

“Zipping my mouth shut,” you gestured at your lips, deadpanning at him.

“You’re too afraid to admit it,”

“Whatever you say, big head,” you bumped his shoulder and he stumbled a little, narrowing his eyes at you, a challenging smirk plastered on his face. Oh no.

In the next minute, Jay swept you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder. You let out a sharp yelp, unable to process everything at once, hearing Jay’s playful laugh fill the streets in the quietness of the night. 

“You’re so dead,” you seethed, hitting his back with your utmost might, but he only cackled in response.

“Whatever you say, pea brain,” Jay mocked, earning him another hard punch on his back and this time, it actually made him wince. Choosing the safest route for himself, he kept his mouth shut.

Thus, you had no choice but to give into hanging over a hockey boy’s shoulder as the two of you ventured into the night in search of his car, not realising the mess you’ll be facing soon.

IT’S OFFICIAL. YOU'VE REACHED THE STAGE OF REGRET.

It was the next day, hockey game day, you turned up at the arena and copped a good seat. You might be wondering, ‘what’s so bad about a hockey game to the point you start regretting everything’, well if you could trade places with anybody in the world right now, you would, and that said a lot. 

Jay had greeted you for barely five minutes before the game, rushing away immediately once he saw the time, giving you an apologetic hug that almost had you convinced this was real. What he hadn’t prepared you earlier, was the fact that there was a fucking kiss cam. One look at the jumbotron and you knew you were doomed.

‘KISS CAM’ was written clearly on the screen, the music in the arena was drowned out completely and you felt your heart drop. It might’ve seemed overdramatic for you to react like this, but in reality, kissing a stranger was terrifying. Your first kiss was already a nightmare, let alone kissing someone you don’t know, what would make it better?

“Nothing will happen,” you assured yourself over and over again, unaware that somebody had just slipped in the seat beside you.

“Hey,” 

You flinched, brought out of your daze and you met Juyeon’s eyes. Good-fucking-bye to the world right now. His smile distracted you, having you muted and malfunctioning. Cool. This was cool. You’re cool. 

“Hi,” you gave him a small smile that turned out more awkward than you thought. 

“Supporting Jay today?” he nodded at the rink where the team was currently practising, your eyes wandering over to Jay’s figure.

“Him and the team. School spirit, you know?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I heard about the kiss cam—” he pointed towards the screen and you wanted to close your eyes instead, but basic courtesy mattered. “—apparently for raising funds,”

Raising funds through a kiss cam? What was this? ‘The Kissing Booth: hockey edition’?

“That’s … interesting,” you uttered, nervousness laced in your voice. 

You were saved from the awkward tension just as the game started, secretly wishing you had Minji with you instead of a mouth watering football player next to you. The game was intense, effectively grabbing your attention away from your surroundings, but the flash of the kiss cam starting its quest on finding couples was distracting.

As the game progressed, you grew confident that your mind was just playing games in making you anxious and nothing would happen. Your mind eased as you joined in the cheering when the home team finally scored a goal, watching the team celebrate had you grinning, staring down at a specific number 99. 

The high soon died down and you chose to glance up at the jumbotron, the kiss cam focused on a cute couple who were weirdly making out instead of just simply kissing. PDA, yucks. It then swiftly moved on to another pair, thankfully. They were probably strangers, but being good sports, they shared a quick peck, earning some ‘awh’s from the crowd. Another change, your eyebrows furrowed, a frown tugged at your lips, was that—

It was. Your nightmare has come. For a moment you wondered if you were hallucinating, but a couple of beats later, you came to the realisation you were not. The kiss cam was focused on you and … Juyeon. When you said you were interested in him, you didn’t mean this, nope not at all. 

Embarrassingly and reluctantly, you avoided the footballer’s gaze and shook your head, feeling tripped out as you stared at your own self on the screen, catching some disappointed groans from a few people. “I have a boyfriend,” you mouthed, trying your best to seem apologetic, but Juyeon didn’t look like he wanted to back down.

“You don’t want to kiss me?” he murmured, attempting to seem as lowkey as possible. 

“I have a boyfriend, sorry,” you pressed your lips into a flat line, not enjoying this for a bit. The kiss cam swerved away to pinpoint another pair, but Juyeon was persistent.

“Come on, don’t pretend you don’t want to kiss me,”

You glared at him, your features turning sour, in disbelief at what you’ve just heard. Was he serious? “Excuse me?”

“Forget about Jay, I know how you were looking at me that night,” he whistled lowly under his breath and you scoffed, but you were caught off guard almost immediately when you saw the kiss cam lighting up in the corner of your eyes, and it zoomed into your face again. FML.

“He’ll never know,” he arched an eyebrow, welcoming the idea hugely. Scumbag. 

“I don’t stoop that low you fuck—”

Before you could jump Juyeon and curse him out, a loud crash startled you and everyone around. You jumped in your seat, your head turned towards the direction of the noise. Jay was in front of you, his fist against the glass, helmet in hand. If looks could kill, you would’ve been dead. 

Wet strands of hair stuck onto his forehead, his eyes narrowed into a death stare as it trained on Juyeon. “Fuck off,” he yelled through the glass barrier, his fist clenched. “Back off,”

The blood in Juyeon’s face was completely drained, obvious embarrassment and shame washed over him, but knowing him and his ego, he played it off, pretending as if that didn’t happen. “Whatever,” he got up from his seat and stormed off. Deserved.

You hid the small smile forming on your face, your sights redirecting towards Jay, your heart beating wildly against your chest the moment you met his eyes, softening when he mouth ‘you okay’. You nodded back at him and you could tell he instantly loosened up, returning a half smile before turning away and joining the team.

Moral of the story: don’t fall for playboys, which sounded pretty ironic considering the situation you were currently in.

The game had thankfully ended in a win for the home team, and honestly, that whole experience seemed to be years instead of just a few hours. Never again. You were glad to see Jay and everyone else cheerfully exiting the rink, taking that as the cue for you to chase after him. 

Upon arriving outside the locker room, you found yourself standing awkwardly as you waited for him to appear, greeting his friends half-heartedly when they were on the way out. Your patience was thinning and only until then, he only decided to appear, a little shocked that you were there.

“Congrats on the win,” you joined his side and walked together, letting his shoulder brush against yours softly.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, a lollipop in his mouth. You didn’t enjoy this questionable tension between the two of you, noticing his rigidness. 

“Hey!” You cut to the chase, snatching the lollipop from his lips, finally getting his attention as he turned to stare at you with wide eyes. “What was that for?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugged it off, and you didn't understand why, you could tell he was blatantly lying.

“You're acting really weird,” you narrowed your eyes at him in accusation.

“Am I?”

“Ask yourself that,” you huffed, instinctively putting the lollipop into your mouth, not bothering to care anymore. “Anyway, I think mission Juyeon is officially cancelled, he gives me the ick, didn't know he was such a big douchebag,”

“Told you so,” he shrugged, his gaze wavering from your lips to your eyes. Woah. “Keep the lollipop, I have loads,” he gulped, avoiding your eyes. 

“Drop me off?” You suggested, putting on the most convincing, sweetest smile, which somehow worked since it got Jay to grudgingly mumble a ‘yes’.

“I would give you a kiss right now if I could.” You skipped on, leaving Jay to tail behind you, your words ringing in his ears.

Maybe somewhere inside, he did wish you would.

“SEE? I TOLD YOU HE WAS A JERK,”

Minji continuously flailed her hands dramatically as you and she made your way through the campus. It was the week of the hockey event that Jay had mentioned, meaning another restless week of frat party, dress shopping, hockey match and then a fancy event. 

“Yes, yes, I know, you've made your point,” you grumbled annoyingly, having not one but two people saying the same to you. 

“It's quite cute that Jay stood up for you though,” she nudged your side, her eyes glinting. You knew what she was indicating.

“Fake dating, fake. Not real,” you threw your hands up in defeat, but internally, you were beginning to second guess if you even wanted to call it fake, maybe deep down, you didn't want it to be.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Minji mumbled, but you were able to catch onto it, huffing in denial next to her. “Anyway, when are you going shopping? The event’s this weekend already,”

“Fuck, I forgot,” you brushed your hand through your hair, having another headache to add on to. “Do you have any nice fancy dresses? I'm sure Jay is ready but I'm not,”

Minji flashed a knowing smirk, she definitely had something up her sleeve. “You know I do. I'll bring them to your dorm and we're going to have a whole makeover,”

“You're not going to burn my hair this time right?”

“We'll see.”

A few days had passed and it was your second hockey pregame party, repeatedly cursing that your Thursday night was ruined once more, but seeing Jay’s pleading eyes at your doorstep, you just had to give in again. How did he have that effect on you?

“She’s going to be at the party,” Jay noted casually on the way to the house. 

“Oh,” you pursed your lips, not knowing what to say next. “What’s her name? You’ve never mentioned,”

“Sujin,”

“Her?” you gasped, eyes widened in plain shock. Out of all the girls he could’ve had his heart broken by, it had to be the infamous Instagram blogger who was known to play around. Look, you've always been a supporter of every woman's rights and wrongs, but she was way beyond any defending. 

“Yeah …” Jay sighed, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “We were high school lovers, but things went sour in college,”

“Well, forget about her, you want to prove her wrong right? Then prove her wrong,”

“You're oddly over confident today,”

“What's wrong with confidence, Park?”

He glanced over at you briefly, a wide grin on his face as he shook his head. “Nothing. I just like to see confidence on you,”

You rolled your eyes, but something inside you twisted, finding yourself ignoring whatever feelings that sparked internally. “Are you ready for Saturday?” 

“Suit’s ready, but me? So so, I guess,”

“You sound pessimistic, don’t tell me you’re starting to regret all these,”

“Hey, now you’re just putting words into my mouth,” Jay grumbled, putting the car into park right outside of the familiar frat house. “I won’t ever regret you or this whole thing, now come on,”

You weren’t left a single second to even process the fact that he said he won't regret you. Yes, you, not just this stupid scheme, but you. Upon entering the threshold, you were met with a cup of beer thrusted into your face from a passing Heeseung, your other hand occupied by Jay’s, trying your best to make it past the crowd without stumbling over. Everything was a whirlwind.

“Fuck, she’s here,” his hold on you tightened and you followed his line of sight, your gaze landing on the over dressed Instagram model, her skirt a little too small and her heels a little too high.

“Just act normal, Jay. You said you’re over her, then you should act like that,” you yanked him close to you, walking over to the mini bar, pouring yourself a drink. “That’s her boyfriend?” you nodded at the taller man towering beside Sujin, his face contrary to the one you had in mind.

“Yeah, that’s Intak,” he said quietly, aware of the lingering ears around the two of you. “Seeing him every time we have a game against his team is revolting, I can’t believe I have to see him here too,”

“Then look away,” you pushed his face softly, earning a huff of annoyance from him. “Come on, it’ll be over in an hour,” you rubbed the side of his arm in comfort, his lips twisting into an endearing smile.

“You’re right,” Jay sighed, blinking harshly, his gaze flickering between you and your surroundings. “I’ll go find Heeseung and Sunghoon for a moment, is that okay? Will you be alright alone? You can come along too. If you want—”

“It’s fine, Jay, really,” you laughed, putting your hands up to stop him from blabbering on. “Go find them, call me when it’s time to leave,”

“I’ll come find you once I’m done,” he held onto your shoulder, pressing a hasty kiss on the top of your head before turning away to another room in search of his hockey teammates.

Safe to say you were able to find yourself a company, who turned out to be a girl you knew from your literature class. Why was she there? She didn’t know either and you thought the best was to not question further, grateful that you were not alone in this house of strangers. The clock was spinning fast, soon it was already past midnight and Jay was nowhere to be seen. You were praying that you weren’t in a remake of ‘Scream’.

The feeling of unease crept up on you and you couldn’t handle it any longer, standing up from the couch and storming into different rooms of the house, all occupied and filled with people, none of those were Jay. The last option you had was the upstairs, which lied the unimaginable behind those rooms that you were not about to explore, thank you very much!

Wandering the upstairs of a rather large frat house all alone was quite a challenge, especially when you were trying to hunt a 5’10 hockey jock, adding onto the fact that you literally and physically bumped (crashed, actually) into said hockey jock’s enemy in the corridors, shit was turning upside down.

“Fuck—sorry,” you coughed out, regretting your last sober choice of bringing your beer cup along.

“Shit—it’s fine, no worries,” Jay's enemy/ex’s boyfriend, Intak, reassured, dabbing himself off with some napkins that were miraculously lying on a table nearby.

“I feel bad, if you need it cleaned I can help,” you frowned, leaning over to see the damage you’ve caused: a yellowish stain on his once perfect white tee.

“No, it’s completely fine, shit happens,” he laughed, waving his hand, an awkward silence filling the air momentarily. “So, why are you even up here?”

“Oh—I’m finding … someone,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile. 

His eyes lit up. “Me too, actually. I can’t leave the party without them and gosh, I’m getting a headache already,” 

“Twins, I think the beer is getting to me soon,” you clapped your hands, glancing around for any signs of Jay.

“Before that happens, may I know your name first?”

You raised your eyebrows. “It’s Y/N,”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N, I’m Intak,” you accepted his handshake, trying your best to be friendly and not seem awkward. "I play in a hockey team, the one that's playing against yours for tomorrow,"

"Right," you nodded as though you hadn't already known that prior to this. "I would wish you good luck on normal occasions, but since it's against the home team … I need to keep my school spirit,"

Intak let out a small laugh. "Totally understandable," he met your eyes, a hint of sheer curiosity in them. "Do you have a date for tonight—"

"Intak?"

"Y/N?"

You, together with the hockey player, turned around to find each other's partners standing down the corridor next to one another, a look of confusion written on their faces. But you, you had anger and an obvious "what the fuck" painted onto your expressions, and it was clear that Jay had noticed it too when he came close.

"Uh—we're leaving now, bye," Jay murmured, grabbing a hold of your wrist and dragging you away, giving you only a brief second to say goodbye to Intak.

You didn't and couldn't understand what was happening, just hating the way Jay was acting. You kept your mouth shut until you were completely out of the house and walking towards the car when you yanked your hand out of Jay's hold, causing him to look back at you in a daze.

"God, you're such a dickhead!" You seethed, breathing heavily.

"What?"

"'What' was all you could say? Jay, you left me in that party alone for God knows how long and then you disappear on me just for me to find you running back to your ex? Make it make sense,"

"I didn't run back to her, Y/N, for fuck's sake," Jay ran a hand through his hair, his lips pressed into a thin line. "She pulled me away and started claiming weird shit that never happened, I wanted to leave but she kept persisting until I managed to break down the fucking doorknob,"

Silence fell between the two of you, the dark of the night consuming your thoughts and the moon was staring down at you, your mind and soul in a daze. You couldn't understand why you were feeling this way, after all, it was fake, it wasn't real.

"I believe you," you sighed, gulping down the anxiety building up within you. "Forget it, it's fine, sorry for being so worked up, it's not like we're really dating, right?"

You looked at him, noticing his eyebrows furrowed and eyes glinting with something unreadable, his mouth opened then shut, wanting to say something but nothing came out, heaving a small sigh. "You're right, it's not real anyway."

As much as you wished to forget it, you couldn't. The way he wasn't even fighting and being in denial, his words stemming sadness into your heart and reminding you again and again that it was never real to begin with. 

Fake dating was meant to be fake, wasn't it?

“I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'VE BROUGHT ME HERE FOR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT,”

Friday night hockey was something you loved, but after what happened yesterday, you dreaded coming. 

You still remembered the tension filled air on the way back to your dorms, the silence in the car and the quiet exchange of "goodnight" haunted you. Crashing into Minji's bed having a breakdown definitely made you two come to a conclusion that you were indeed harbouring something for Jay. Were you going to straightforwardly admit it? Never.

Now, you had zero balls to be at the game alone, choosing to drag Minji along and you knew even if she was vocally complaining, she was actually enjoying the hot hockey players secretly.  

"Did you talk to Jay after yesterday night?"

"No,"

"Will you?"

"Maybe,"

"I think that's a 'yes',"

You stared pointedly at her and she shrugged, resuming her watch on the hockey players practising. You watched along as well, your eyes instinctively following Jay's figure, but then you noticed Intak on the far end as well. Somehow, you knew that this match wasn't about to end well.

"Is this seat empty?" A voice startled you from your internal monologue, snapping your head just in time to see little miss ex standing over you.

"Oh—yes," you said uneasily, grabbing your phone immediately to text Minji.

you: it's her

jiji: who

you: the girl next to me!!! that's jay's EX.

jiji: YOU'RE KIDDING

you: i wished

You exchanged a wary look with Minji, playing it off as natural as you could as you sensed Sujin sitting next to you, elbowing Minji in panic and she does the same back to you, making it look wild and weird from a third perspective. You stopped the frenzy nudging war with Minji, swallowing thickly and hoping nothing happened, but actually, something did, hooray!

“You’re Jay’s girlfriend?” you heard her asking and you turned your head slowly, meeting her blinking eyes and curious gaze.

“Yes,” you tried your best for it to sound convincing, and it seemed to have worked.

“Cool.” she whistled under her breath, returning her gaze back to the arena and you resisted rolling your eyes, biting back a snarl.

The game started in a haze, both teams trying to break one another’s defence and score a goal, yet it all failed in the end, turning it into a tie for two periods straight. You and Minji sighed in disappointment, watching the home team giving their best to not collapse there and then. Sujin, on the other hand, looked nervous throughout the game, occasionally standing up and clapping.

The third period approached in a blink of an eye, two teams eager to score and win, the tension was high and you could tell they were sweating heavy loads. It began in a peaceful and lowkey attack, but shoving and punches were seen here and there, earning entertained jeers from the crowd. You sighed, both in exasperation and stress, hoping nothing would land Jay a bad game. But everything proved you the opposite once more.

Your eyes widening in the next moment, noticing two players shoving each other and throwing gloves onto the ice, punches almost thrown but was interjected by the referee and teammates. Lord, it just had to be Jay and Intak, it was basically written in the stars, wasn’t it?

Once the game had ended, you couldn’t care less about the scoreline, listening to Minji’s brief rants on how not to fumble your emotions about Jay and stopping her halfway through, pointing to the clock as your time ticked. You were attempting to squeeze your way out when you heard a cough behind you and to your disappointment, it had to be Sujin.

“You’re aware of who I am, right?” you heard the sneer in her voice, holding in the urge to rip her hair out and instead, remained facing away from her.

“Don’t worry, I do. You’re Jay’s dumpster ex girlfriend,”

“What—”

Timing was right and you took the chance to slip away, thanking the world that you were finally miles away from Jay’s dusty ex. All of that didn’t matter though, the important aspect was finding Jay now, awkwardly speed walking to locate Jay’s whereabouts.

Upon arriving at the front of the familiar locker rooms, you patiently waited, feeling a sense of deja vu. That wasn’t all. Your anxiety was at its highest point. What were you about to say to Jay? Can you even face him? What if you pussied out and ran away—

“Y/N?” speaking of the devil …

You whipped your head around, Jay’s curious eyes meeting your panicked ones, your whole body frozen to the spot as he approached you, taking a cautious step at a time. 

“Are you alright? Were you hurt?” you couldn’t help it, after seeing the minor fight on ice, your first natural instinct was to ask him this. Jay lowered his head, hiding a smile that was threatening to appear. A small sense of relief washed over you.

“I’m fine … thanks. Just a small conflict,” he muttered, then proceeded by a brief moment of silence, where you swore it felt like forever considering how it was just quiet stares and exchanges of friendly smiles, and you couldn’t really handle it much longer, being the one to break first.

“Jay, I—uhm—yesterday, the party thing, I’m sorry about it, I don’t want that to make things awkward between us,” you gesture wildly at the space between you and him, his eyes following your movements. “And it’s wrong for me to say those stuff,”

“It’s partially my fault too. I’m the one to blame to ditch you,”

“I’m the one who accused you of shit and I feel really bad for assuming something I don’t know. I just got worked up, I’m sorry,”

He took hold of your hands, grasping onto them tightly as though he was fearing you’d run away. “Y/N, do you trust me?”

Do you trust him?

In a heartbeat, the answer was an obvious ‘yes’. You had to admit, you did initially find him annoying and a total fuckboy that you knew would break your heart, but as time passed, you couldn’t care anymore. Even if it meant your heart was on the line, at least you knew Jay was genuine about you; at the very least, there was someone who would stand up for you, listen to your rants about music, and put you first. 

“Yes,”

Jay pulled your hand, practically yanking you towards him, landing on his chest with a thud and a heart thumping crazily, butterflies swarmed your stomach and you could feel heaven getting close, aka you dying in Jay’s arms. He pressed his head on the top of yours, feeling his heart beating against your chest, his cologne no stranger to you now. 

“When I said you’re my girl, I meant it, it doesn’t matter if it’s fake or not, I’ll always care for you, and I will never ever hurt you, so please—” an underlying mix of desperation, hurt and care were laced in his voice, and you were weak, weak for him. “—trust me, and even if it means I need to earn it or whatever, I will,”

“Jay…” you faltered, resting your chin on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist. “I’m sorry for not trusting you, I should’ve heard you out, of course I do trust you,”

Jay was silent for a second, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’ and pressing a swift kiss on your forehead, which didn’t get completely unnoticed by you, but you decided to not say anything about it, letting yourself melt into his arms. Internally, you were conflicted, torn between whether your feelings about him were mutual, you were scared, petrified that you’ve already broken the first and most important rule of fake dating:

Do not catch feelings.

jayjay: DUMPSTER EX? you’re soo foul for that

you: truth hurts unfortunately :/ you never told me what happened that day

jayjay: it was stupid, he just started attacking me, for OBVIOUS reasons, so i couldn’t help defending back :( 

you: i’m glad you didn’t get your ass beat

jayjay: gasp you have zero confidence in me!

Tossing your phone to the side was a hard task considering how Jay was basically spamming your message inbox, ranging from panicking about the event that was happening at night to gossiping about exes, he was certainly experiencing many emotions. You were similarly distraught, having a hard time choosing between a black dress or a red one, placing them in front of you for evaluations that just ended up failing.

“By the time we’re done I think the party would’ve ended,” Minji groaned from her side of the room, lounging on her bed as she watched you glancing between the two dresses.

“Not helping,”

“I literally chose the black one and you told me, in your words, ‘what if I looked better in red’ girl, that’s your problem now,”

“I'm indecisive and you know that,” you mumbled sourly, picking the black dress in the end. You were grateful for the fashion Gods, the dress was an absolute banger and you didn’t understand how you even picked it out, you just knew. 

“See? I told you,” Minji whistled, manhandling you to do a forceful 180 turn for her, and from the way her face morphed into a smile, you could tell she was pleased. "Jay would drop dead when he sees you," she squealed.

"God I hope not," you joked, squeezing onto your clutch tightly.

jayjay: im outside :)

"He's here," you hissed, becoming frantic all of a sudden, double checking everything at the last minute before slipping your heels on, making sure to give Minji a small kiss on the cheek too and off you went dashing towards Jay's car, noticing his figure faced away, leaning against his car as you got nearer.

"Hi," you panted, masking the fatigue and exhaustion from the amount of panic and stress you went through in those 5 minutes.

You could see Jay glancing up from his phone, then shoving it into his back pocket and turning his head around, his burning eyes locked with yours. A smirk slowly stretched onto his lips, a mischievous glint in his gaze as he sweeped your figure. You were no better, eyes shamelessly boring into him, scanning his attire and you swore your legs were shaking.

Him in a plain black suit shouldn’t be affecting you, but it was. The prada tie hung around neck was equally distracting, how was he making something so simple seem breathtaking? You hated him for it, yes, you absolutely do. His hair was styled back and a single loose strand hung over his forehead, practically challenging the Zayn Malik look.

“Hey,” his hand instinctively reached for your waist, bringing you closer to him. “You look amazing—you’re amazing,” he breathed out, completely transfixed.

“You look great too,” that’s a lie, he looked more than just great.

“Getting complimented by you for once? Honoured,”

“You should be,” you snickered, letting Jay guide you to the passenger side and adoring the way he opened the car door for you. Although it was a small gesture, you appreciate it greatly considering how literally no man had done this for you before. Known fuckboy Park Jong Seong was proving you wrong day by day.

The drive there began quietly and you knew it was going to take a while since it’s quite a distance away, fearing it would be awkward silence once more, but the moment Jay had switched the radio on, the music discourse started, then it progressed into movies. 

“I can’t believe you hate rom coms!” you gasped, staring at him in horror as he fumbled to defend himself.

“Look, I didn’t say hate, but it’s just pointless,” 

“You’re telling me you’ve never watched the classic rom coms before?” you dramatically leaned away from him, earning a huff.

“No,” he grumbled.

“That’s criminal,” you exclaimed, a little evil idea forming in that brain of yours. “I’m making you watch them,”

“You’re so not,”

“Oh, I am,” you beamed, clapping your hands together. “There are ‘How to Lose a Guy in 10 days’, ‘Notting Hill’, ‘Pretty Woman’, the list goes on and on and Julia Roberts is literally a rom com legend—oh my God, please tell me you’ve watched Mamma Mia before,”

“Of course I did! I’m not that bad,”

“I’m glad,” you let out a sigh of relief, sinking into your seat and making a mental note to write down a list of rom coms to watch with Jay. A rom com marathon date with Jay, cute. The rest of the ride, you listened to Jay’s hilarious rants about the pizzas he tried and the interesting stories from his trips abroad.

The venue was absolutely spacious and screamed sponsored. It was at some five star hotel, the parking was already a clear indication that it wasn’t a hotel to be taken lightly in consideration. Even Jay was surprised, his head twisting and turning to look at the small details of everything, his hand in yours and it genuinely felt like you were dragging a curious child around.

“Didn’t know the hockey associations had this in them,” he cooed, entering the ballroom of the hotel, a big hockey banner hung at the stage, round tables littered here and there, a huge space in the middle for the dancefloor and as for the cherry on top, a wide array of food and drinks displayed freely. Maybe you didn’t fully regret coming.

Despite all that, you only managed to recognise one or two people from the hockey team, but the rest of them were plain strangers, players from different schools that only Jay could probably recognise. You simply felt uneasy.

“Remind me what this is for again?”

“Literally nothing, it’s the same as the frat party but classier I suppose,”

“Real charming,”

“Come on,” Jay said quietly, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you towards your designated table, actually glad for once when you saw the hockey team, including Heeseung and Sunghoon. “It’s going to be over soon and hey, you can always talk to the guy’s dates,”

“Will I be seeing their dates the next time?” you arched a quizzical eyebrow at him, knowing their reputation, you wondered if this was a one night exclusive kinda thing, but you weren’t there to judge.

“Hard to say,” Jay frowned.

“Wait—” you paused, placing an arm on Jay’s shoulder. “What about us? This whole deal was for tonight, but what happens after?”

“I don’t think it’s the right time to discuss this right now, Y/N,” Jay glanced back and forth between you and his friends at the table, making sure his voice was extra hushed. “Let’s just survive tonight first, and we’ll talk about the rest after. Capiche?”

You nodded, but deep down, you could tell that talk was already dreaded by the both of you. You’d hate to admit it, but after being with Jay for a while, you were not willing to let go. What if he didn’t feel the same and you’ll just end up being those clingy girls he dated before? It was such a wrong time to think about all these when you’re in the middle of some stupid event, but your mind has its way to put you off, always.

“You okay?” Jay was close, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of emotions. It definitely helped in snapping you out of your daze, and it took your utmost willpower to not shy away or kiss him at that exact moment, he was so pretty, painfully pretty when he was up close for you to be able to capture his every feature. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, squeezing his shoulder lightly before looping your arm around his. “I’m a little hungry,”

“Me too,” Jay groaned, his head turning over to where the buffet was, evidently displaying heart eyes. “I’ll go get us some, you should join them first, and save me a seat too, please,”

“‘Please’? That’s a first from you,”

“Do you want your food or not?”

“You’re so romantic whenever you threaten me,” you shooed Jay away, forcing him to fetch some food while you trudged your way towards the table, Heeseung and Sunghoon nodded at you when you caught their eyes.

"Y/N," the two hockey players regarded you, their dates giving you friendly smiles and you took a seat next to Heeseung's date.

"Heeseung, Sunghoon," you raised your eyebrows. "And the ladies," you have to admit it, at least they had great tastes.

Heeseung and Sunghoon introduced you to their dates, one was Chaewon and the other was Kazuha, both of them being the nicest people you've ever met and you swore you were about to ditch Jay for them instead.

"Hey," Jay finally appeared, his hands were occupied by two plates and thankfully, he was smart enough to fill them up to the brim. He slipped into the empty seat next to you, acknowledging his friends and their dates.

“This is a first,” Heeseung noted thoughtfully, catching both you and Jay off guard.

“Hm?” Jay hummed, passing you the utensils.

“Don’t ‘hm’ me. This is literally my first time seeing you treat a girl like this,”

Jay stared back at his friends as if they were insane, you just stayed amused. “You’re making me sound like I’ve treated other girls like a dickhead,”

“You know what I mean,” 

You didn’t. But it seemed Jay did, silently sighing underneath his breath and shrugging Heeseung’s words off, turning to you instead. “I got you some strawberries, I remembered you mentioned loving them once,”

There was a tug at your heartstrings, it was your absolute weakness: people remembering your favourite things; Jay most definitely had a great way to get into your heart and mind. He was slowly but surely ticking off the boxes on the list you’ve created in your head, titled ‘things Jay is forbidden to do so that I WON’T end up liking him’ and he was proving you wrong by checking them off one at a time, damn it.

The food wasn’t the best but the company surely did help. The whole of the hockey team was cracking jokes around the table, you were laughing until your stomach was hurting, the atmosphere high and wild, you were too busy trying not to choke at the jokes to notice that you were practically leaning onto Jay’s side, shoulders touching and you could feel the warmth emanating from his body.

What’s a fancy event without a speech at the end of the night? Other than that boring part, you were relieved to hear there was at least a dance to end the night off on a high with, since the dance floor was there for a reason. The team around the table started dispersing in pairs, until it was only you and Jay left. 

“Were you waiting for me to ask?” Jay teased, his eyes lingering on you.

“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to go usually?” you mused, raising an accusing eyebrow at him and he stifled a laugh. 

“I’m playing with you. I was waiting for the other’s to leave first so that I could be alone with you—” he bumped your shoulder gently with his, “—and ask you personally,” he stood up from his seat, the soft glow from the lights shone across his face, alighting his delicate features, he looked like a fantasy, too good to be true, and maybe he was. “Would you like to dance?” 

“I would love to,” you accepted his hand, allowing him to lead you to the dancefloor and you suddenly felt nervous, hoping you wouldn’t end up tripping or stumbling, or worse, stepping on Jay’s toes. Somehow, he would always sense your distress and this time, it was the same. 

“Don’t be nervous, I won’t start hoisting you up like those Disney shows,” he said with his recognizable playful smile that you’ve grown used to. 

You were facing him now, his hand not leaving yours and only tightening its grip, pulling you in closer and closer until you were only mere inches away from him, noses almost touching. The other hand of his rested on your waist, yours on his shoulder, eyes not leaving one another. The lights were dimmed down, slow music was playing in the background and you swore you saw something sparked in his gaze as you two started moving to the rhythm. 

“I might’ve said it earlier already but genuinely, you’re absolutely breathtaking,” Jay whispered, his voice low and his gaze piercing.

“Have my love potions finally worked?” you smiled, hoping and praying that Jay wouldn’t notice the slight tinge of pink rising to your cheeks.

“I think they did,” Jay nodded slowly, biting his lip for a moment before leaning even more closer, space was basically nonexistent between you two now. “I might want to keep you forever now, keep you by my side and never let you go,”

Could this be his answer? An answer to your countless doubts and thoughts that piled in your mind. This was stupid, he was stupid. Stupidly handsome and charming it had you going insane and you thought hockey jocks wouldn’t have this effect on you, guess you were wrong all along.

“Really?” you breathed out, barely audible, but expectant. 

“I don’t think I was ever joking,” 

“I—”

“Jay!” Sunghoon’s voice boomed through the crowd and you could see the hope drain from Jay’s face, his eyebrows furrowed and features twisted into annoyance. “Dude, I heard there’s some free booze that costs thousands! Can we please go check it out—am I interrupting something here?”

“You think?” Jay seethed out, taking off his suit’s blazer and placing them over your shoulders. It was something small, maybe even insignificant to others, but to you, it meant a lot, and you were hoping no one noticed your slight shyness after. 

“It’s fine,” you placed a reassuring hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “You can whisk him off for the night, but don’t make him drunk,”

“Got it,” Sunghoon showed you two thumbs up, throwing his arm around Jay's shoulder. 

“I’ll see you later? Call me if you need anything,” 

“I’ll be okay, I have Chaewon and Zuha here,”

Jay only silently nodded, begrudgingly following his friend but making sure to turn back and take a last peek of you before fully disappearing away. You were left alone standing in the midst of the dancefloor, feeling a pair of eyes on you and you knew exactly who it was, Sujin.

Maybe this whole plan worked too well, it had you totally forgetting its original objectives and you couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing. All you knew was that you needed a long and deep talk with Jay and whatever he said earlier definitely had you on the edge all night while he was somewhere getting wasted. Hey, someone had to be the responsible one, and it happened to be you.

“You’re telling me Heeseung spilled a drink over a girl a few days ago?”

You found yourself giggling and messing around with Chaewon and Kazuha, the three of you sharing odd stories of one another and it evolved into gossiping about your own dates. Chaewon turned to you, a cheeky grin wide on her face.

“You and Jay are dating right?” she nudged you playfully, Kazuha followed with a smile.

“I guess so?” you threw your hands up, sipping from a drink you didn’t really like but still endured.

“You seem unsure—oh wow, did he never confirm it between you two?”

“No, not that—” it was that, it was complicated. “It’s just something’s bugging me,”

“What is?” the two girls leaned in closer. 

“Just, the other day at a party, I saw him coming out of a room with his ex and I got mad—”

“Rightfully so,” 

“I heard his explanation and I felt bad for jumping to conclusions,”

“Oh, honey, it’s our first instinct, you don’t have to beat yourself up for it,”

“Yeah, I know, I do trust him, he didn’t seem to look like he had just freshly made out with her or anything, but something in me just doesn’t feel like I’ve fully made peace with this whole thing,”

“Which means?”

“I don’t know exactly, I think I’m either super paranoid or simply scared something bad might happen,” 

“I might’ve not been with Sunghoon for long enough and I don’t even think we’re a thing, but I’ve hung out with him and Jay included, and it’s enough for me to say that Jay is a good guy. He might be a well known fuckboy at first encounter, but the more you got to know him, you’ll realise he’s actually the sweetest and nicest guy ever,”

“Excluding his reputation,” Chaewon added thoughtfully.

“Excluding that,” Kazuha repeated. “But he probably changed, I don’t see him at many parties anymore after he got with you. It’s cheesy to say but I think you might’ve changed that man,”

“Mhm,” Chaewon nodded along, placing a hand on your thigh and giving you a comforting pat. “Please don’t let some ex overwhelm your thoughts and sever your relationship, I’ve been there and it sucked, believe me. I see the way he looks at you, I can tell he likes you a lot, I really don’t wish anything to happen between you two,”

“Plus, the three of us needs to hang out more, go on dates together, it’ll be fun,”

“Agreed,” 

You broke into a smile, laughing softly and leaned into Chaewon’s embrace. “I know we’ve barely met but would it be too soon to say I love you guys?”

“Never,” the two girls snickered in unison. 

The night gradually passed without your knowledge, time practically nonexistent when you spoke to your new found besties, only noticing how late it was when you saw people slowly making their way to the exit, hand in hand with their partners, and you thought of Jay. Please don’t be high or drunk somewhere, or just both in general.

“God, look at the time, should we go find them?” Kazuha pointed out, Chaewon stretching her arms out beside her while you readjusted yourself uncomfortably in this dress. 

“We really should, they’re probably drunk or something. Come on,” Kazuha pulled you up and it took your utmost strength to not collapse from the pain, all thanks to your killer heels you were now wincing everytime you walked. Beauty is pain indeed.

It didn’t take long for the three of you to spot the hockey guys, distinguishing Sunghoon’s glorious silver hair that shone particularly brighter under the lights from the mirrorball. Although they seemed sober still, you could tell they were beginning to be at their wits end, but forget about them, Jay was nowhere in sight and you couldn’t help feeling unease.

“Where’s Jay?”

“Oh, Jay?”

“Yes, Jay,” you folded your arm, staring expectantly at them.

“He got a call or something just ten minutes back, he said he was supposed to be back soon, as in right now, but he’s not here,” Heeseung said, trying to take a swig of his cup before it was swatted away by Chaewon. “He did go that way,” he pointed at the door that led out to the terrace.

“I’ll go get him,”

“Do you need any of us to help?” 

“I’ll be fine … for now,” you gave them a smile of assurance, but you yourself were far from being assured.

Trudging your way past the dispersing crowd, you were wondering where Jay was, silently cursing him out as you continued your way even if your shoes were killing you. Never again. The terrace was a nice place to getaway, the open space looked out to a night sky that was illuminated by skyscrapers and stars, plus the cool night breeze made it even better. 

The area was wide, tables and chairs littered here and there, but there was no five feet ten hockey player anywhere. You decided to walk around a little bit more, pulling your phone out and dialling Jay’s number, praying he was somewhere near. There was no way this would be a second reenactment of the party at the beach except this time it’s actually a real scary movie, right?

Wrong. 

The moment you rang Jay, you managed a sigh of relief once you heard a ringtone sounding from a distance away, so as anyone would, you followed it, turning around a corner and you saw Jay’s back, elation filled your heart, but before you could even shout his name, your perfect bubble burst.

Jay wasn’t alone, no, he was with someone, a girl. You squint your eyes and you swore your knees turned into jelly in that second. Sujin, the dumpster ex, pulled him into a kiss. A mix of countless emotions swelled in you, whether it was anger, shock or sadness, all you knew was that you needed to get out right now. You couldn’t believe it, Jay, the guy you actually considered was doing this. Maybe trusting him was the worst idea you could ever conjure up your entire life.

“Fuck me,” you cursed out, maybe a little too loudly because it definitely did make Jay stumble back from his ex, turning around to meet your eyes and you could tell he was not expected you here, hell you weren’t even expecting yourself to be in this foolish position.

“What—Y/N?” Jay somewhat looked too disoriented, unaware of what was happening as though he had just woken up 10 years later. But you couldn’t care less, you were hurt and you weren’t about to pretend nothing had happened and start acting jolly good. No, you weren’t going to stand there to let the scene before you swallow you whole, no way, you were going to leave this situation, this stupid event and this entire agreement. 

You stormed away, not daring to look back, mustering every bit of courage you had to swallow down a sob and remain prideful, even if it meant you had to fake it till you made it. Hurt wasn’t a stranger to you. You’ve experienced hurt in many forms. Physically, when you fell down on the rough rocky road; emotionally in terms of family, friends, love. But this was a hurt that resembled a deep cut, the feeling of being stabbed in the heart haunted your soul.

“Y/N, wait,”

Fuck, not here, not now, not when you were inside and standing in the middle of the room. Even though there was barely any one here by now, the guys from Jay’s hockey team remained, including Heeseung and Sunghoon, you were not ready to confront or be confronted.

“No, Jay, no ‘wait’,” you put your hand out, distancing yourself away from him, but you could still smell the alcohol in his breath. You wished and hoped he was sober enough for this, because in the next hour you were going to be the one drinking to death instead. 

“I can explain—”

“Can you?”

“What?”

“Can you explain this time? Is it just a drunken mistake? Is that what you were going to say?”

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N, we aren’t even dating,” 

Heads turned, you could sense people’s attention on the two of you now, but you were far from caring about that, not when Jay’s words felt exactly like a dig at your already fragile heart. God, you were so so stupid and naive.  

“Say it again,” the words came out in a whisper, your lips trembling. “Say it again, say how we were never real, how all of this was just a fucking scheme to get back at your ex, and ha—!” you threw your hands up, swallowing down a lump in your throat, “it worked, didn’t it? I ended up falling for your tricks and I ended up falling for you too, funny isn’t it?

Jay’s face twisted upon digesting your words, but you went on.

“I should’ve known that you were using me all along just to get back with her…” you faltered, your voice eventually failing you.

“Y/N, come on…” he said weakly, but you just shook your head.

 “Go back to her,”

“Don’t you get it? Fuck, I’d choose you over her, any day, any time. I’d choose you over everyone God damn it. Can’t you see that?” 

Your mouth fell open for a second, but nothing could come out as a response.

To say that you were bewildered was an understatement indeed, you were absolutely stunned speechless. The man before you, despite looking in a daze from God knows how much alcohol he had consumed, showed that his eyes said otherwise, staring back at you with desperation, longing, pining and sadness. Your heart could only take so much.

“Goodnight, Jay.”

What pained you more was the fact that he didn’t even try after that. No, he didn’t call for you nor did he stop you from leaving like those scenes from your favourite rom coms, he just decided to let you go. 

At one point, you really wished someone would come out and yell ‘this is a prank’ at you, but obviously, no one did. This whole thing was basically a reenactment of Cinderella, except it was a modern day and much more angsty version of every kid’s favourite movie. 

Of course, you happened to be Cinderella and he was Prince Charming, the clock struck midnight, you were leaving him in a haste and he was left stranded alone in the middle of a dance, how ironic. 

Oh, how you wished you were able to hide away from your own Prince Charming like the old mediaeval days.

“ARE YOU GOING TO CONTINUE CRYING OVER ‘HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS’?”

“Leave me alone,”

“It isn’t a good coping method,”

Somehow, it was already almost a week since that night. You remembered calling a cab in the dead of the night (dumb idea) and phoning Minji the whole way sobbing till the point where the driver had to pull over. You were pathetic and even a stranger could tell so, but you know what, he was nice about it and that’s the positives you’d take from that.

“And it’s ironic how I actually did somewhat lose a guy too,” you tried laughing, but it only sounded like a choke, Minji shaking her head sympathetically at you. 

Speaking about Minji, she definitely wasn’t pleased to hear what had happened. Knowing her, you knew she was about to say ‘I told you so’ but seeing you in your pathetic state, she kept her mouth zipped and quiet, letting you into her bed and having a sob session. It was a crazy night.

“When will you hear him out—did you even hear him out in the first place?” Minji eyed you accusingly and you began cowering under her intense gaze.

“No…”

“Y/N,” Minji sighed, shifting closer to you. “I know the whole picture is super messy and totally off putting, but what if it was an accident?”

“Him kissing his ex is a pretty clear picture to me, how would it be an accident?” you wrapped your blanket tighter around you, mumbling disheartedly.

“What if he fell on her or something?”

“Now you sound absolutely ridiculous,” you scoffed.

“What I really mean is, you should go and talk it out with him, if not, this thing will just drag on and you’ll hurt more,”

“I don’t think I’m ready, the wound’s still fresh,”

“I get it,” Minji placed her head on your shoulder, snuggling on your side. “It takes time, and I don’t think he’s ready either.”

Jay wasn’t ready, in fact he thinks he’s never going to face you again.

The moment he watched you slip away from him that night, he knew it was best to just let you go. Or so he thought. Best believe he got an earful from both Heeseung and Sunghoon, not to mention their dates. He could still remember the bursts of disbelief from them, the amount of ‘it was fake?’ and ‘what did you do?’ rung through his head till now, where he stared blankly back at the rink, sitting silently on one of the seats in the stands.

“It’s barely 24 hours and it’s also a Sunday, what are you doing here?” the team’s captain boomed through the empty arena, approaching Jay and eventually taking a seat next to him.

“Taking my mind off … things, what are you doing here?” Jay regarded Heeseung for a moment.

“I figured you’re here,” 

Jay nodded at Heeseung’s words, silence eventually filled the space between them. It was one of those moments where they knew something was wrong, but no one wanted to speak up about it.

“Are you not going to tell us what happened? Or did you simply decide to kiss your ex?” Heeseung broke the ice, coming off slightly harsh, detesting the silence from Jay. He knew this wasn’t the best friend he trusted his life with, the Jay he knew wasn’t a cheater, even if the relationship wasn’t real.

“Would you even believe me?”

“I would, I’ve known you for years, there’s no way you’re doubting my trust for you,” Heeseung rested his hand on Jay’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

Jay ran his hand across his face, blinking momentarily before sighing deeply. “I wasn’t the one who kissed her. I don’t know what happened to lead up to that, but I swear she suddenly turned me around and pressed herself onto me. I was just chilling outside for fresh air,”

“You’re kidding,”

“If I was I wouldn’t be here at all,”

“Have you confronted Sujin?” 

“Kind of? If you count screaming at her and telling Intak about it as a confrontation, then yes,” Jay was fidgeting with his fingers, his eyes trained on the rink. “I think Intak broke it off with her after,”

“Deserved,” Heeseung mused, a small smile on his face, karma truly worked wonders. “Now that’s settled, what about Y/N? I still can’t believe you roped her into a fake dating scheme just for that event,”

“Alright, alright, I’ve done some dumb shit and this was one of them, I know,” Jay admitted, throwing his hands up in defeat. “And I know I’ve hurt her … a lot, that’s why I don’t know how I can ever face her again,”

“I don’t understand why you didn’t chase after her that night,”

“I admit I did pussy out a little—”

“‘A little’?”

“Shut up,” Jay narrowed his eyes at his captain, who stared back, equally unamused. “I thought letting her go was the best choice, I was scared of hurting her more,”

Heeseung’s gaze softened, remaining quiet as he listened to his best friend opening up. Heeseung had these types of deep talk with Jay many times before, but this time, it was different. Being the one who stuck alongside Jay since his first breakup to now, he was the clearest when it came to Jay and his feelings. Over the years of witnessing Jay and his casual one nights, Heeseung expected it to last until the very day Jay retires from hockey, but your sole existence proved him wrong, and it definitely proved Jay wrong as well.

“Jay, do you like her?” Heeseung said after a while, catching the latter off guard.

“I–I–” Jay stammered, his body rigid and thoughts were circling in his mind. He didn’t just like you, he knows he’s fallen for you, you were the first girl to ever caught his eyes way before he even got to talk to you. 

He remembered it clearly, you were the one who called hockey stupid in front of his face, oblivious to the fact that he played the sport. He was injured at that time, sitting in the stands and watching his team play when he heard your voice complaining, your then boyfriend next to you. Offended Jay was once he heard the insult, though he was fascinated by you, but it was just his fuckboy side talking and he ended up staying silent instead.

Next thing he knew, he was all recovered and you were in the crowd, your face blank, the seat next to you was empty. Jay assumed it was a break up, something in him was giddy and he went on to score a hat trick that night. After all that, people might assume he would’ve gotten your number already, right? Nope. He never had the guts to and you stopped coming to games, only appearing once in a few months, until that fateful night at the beach.

“I do like her, fuck,” Jay threw his head back, leaning into the seat and his hands on his face, swallowing deeply as if he was in trouble, maybe because he was. How was he going to tell you he liked you and confront you about that night? There were two big stones thrown at his head. "I like her so much till the point where I think the amount of denial I had is turning into delusions instead,"

"So, you've reached insanity, got it," 

"God, I haven't been romantically in love with many girls before, but I'm pretty sure this is what being in love feels like, right … ?" 

Heeseung stared at Jay's pathetic expression, sighing deeply, clapping his back. "It's different for everyone but I can guarantee that you're on the right track, buddy,"

"Okay," Jay said breathlessly and nodded blankly, seeming as though he had just freshly figured out his feelings, putting the missing pieces into his puzzle. "Got it, but how do I apologise to her now?"

"What do you mean? Just go up to her and talk, say sorry and explain," 

"I feel like that's not enough,"

A sudden spark alighted in Heeseung's eyes, a shiver equally went down Jay's spine when he witnessed that before him. Lee Heeseung and his ideas were a mix of trouble and sometimes success, mainly trouble. “You know, Sunghoon pitched this idea to me yesterday, he said something about this is how you get the girl,”

The mention of Sunghoon's name and his idea didn't help at all.

“Write her an apology on our jumbotron,”

“You're insane,”

“And we happen to have access to it,”

“... tell me more.”

YOU WERE REGRETTING YOUR CHOICE OF AGREEING TO HEESEUNG AND SUNGHOON’S INVITE.

Hockey games were never up your alley, they knew that, but somehow they still managed to pull you into attending their game, even after what had happened. They did offer to bring you out for a luxurious buffet and you guessed it was their way of an apology, not passing up on it either.

“This better be worth it,” you grumbled under your breath, settling into your seat, glancing down at the rink, making it a strenuous effort to not stare at him. Ladies, do not chase, attract. You were not about to go running after Jay, nope, never.

No matter how hard you tried suppressing the thought of Jay, it lingered nevertheless. You wondered when he would talk to you again, or if he ever would, and being the most stubborn person you were, you weren’t going to confront him despite the need of an explanation clawing at your deepest desires. 

The first and second period rolled by mindlessly and you were starting to be at your wits end, reminding you why you barely ever attend hockey games after your ex, but at least the home team was leading. The third period was slightly more thrilling thanks to the small fight between two players, enraging you and the crowd, but once the puck landed on Jay’s end of the stick, everyone was on their feet, watching him zoom past the defensemen.

Without saying, Jay scored the game’s winning goal, the crowd going wild. You couldn’t help smiling, the whole team engulfed him wholly, making you let out a small giggle, and you had to admit, times like this where teams win crucial games do make you happy. Meanwhile, what you hadn’t noticed was the fact that Jay was glancing up at the crowd, his eyes searching for your figure. 

On the other hand, what you did notice was the jumbotron. A video of Jay doing his celebration flashed big on the screen, a giant ‘GOAL’ next to his head, but there was another line of words under that caught your attention at once, knowing it was directed at you. ‘I’m sorry and I miss you. I’ll wait for you, even if it’s a lifetime. Please come back to me.’ Totally not heartbreaking and gut wrenching for you! 

Screw being a cold hearted girl boss, all you wanted was to run back to him. 

Slinging your bag onto your shoulder, your mind was in a mess as you made your way out, squeezing past people and mumbling apologies in return. You mentally made a list of things you were going to do. First, run back to the dorms. Second, cry. Third, figure shit out. Just to make matters messier, your journey out wasn’t the smoothest, especially when you had to bump into Jay’s dumpster ex. What great timing this was.

“Y/N?” Sujin was shocked to see you, but you were clearly unimpressed.

“You still have the guts to turn up in front of me? In here? In a school you don’t go to?”

“I–I just wanted to talk to you,” 

“Me? What’s there to say?” you crossed your arms, staring expectantly at her. 

“Look, Jay didn’t kiss me, I kissed Jay, you get it?” 

You blinked. Were you supposed to get it? As much as you wished you didn’t, you did, and your mind turned into a worse state of mush. God rest your soul, you were about to pull someone’s hair out.

“What?” you exclaimed incredulously, furiousness crawling into your system. “So, you’re telling me you basically threw yourself onto him?”

“I suppose?”

“Wow, you really are a freaky ex, not freaky in a good way either,” you gestured at Sujin, a sick feeling in your stomach. It was never Jay’s fault, but his dumpster ex, and maybe all along he was trying to explain his side, yet you didn’t listen. Now, you felt like an idiot and an asshole. “You can stay in the dumpster and never return. You’re sick and twisted and I hope you’ll never turn up and harass Jay ever again, you got it? Or else I’ll curse you into being single forever,”

“I—”

You didn’t let her finish, you couldn’t bother to do so, instead you turned away, speed walking towards the locker rooms that unknowingly became yours and Jay’s meeting spot. Heart beating quick, your feet stumbling from walking too fast, your breath heaving, you were getting anxious. By the time you were standing in front of the locker room, sweat was trickling down the side of your face, whether it was from pure anxiety or just walking, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you needed to talk to Jay.

“Y/N, what brings you here?” Heeseung had his hands in his pockets, headphones around his neck, looking fresh off the shower as he greeted you. “I know Sunghoon and I invited you for dinner but I don’t think it’s tonight—”

“Where’s Jay?”

“Jay?” Heeseung repeated, he didn’t seem like he was believing what he had heard. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes to the back of your head. 

“Are there other ‘Jay's' that you know?”

“Uh—no,” Heeseung stammered, shaking his head as if he’s trying to shake his dizziness away. “Jay left already, Y/N,”

“Oh,” it was obvious how deflated you became, the drop in your voice and disappointment written all over your face. Heeseung gave you an apologetic smile, but you could only manage a small wave of goodbye and a quiet bid of goodnight before turning back to the original path to the exit. 

To say you felt frustrated, embarrassed, sad was an understatement, those words would never amount to the real emotions you were feeling. You were a mess, your love life was in a big distress and practically crumbling apart. The walk home couldn’t be more depressing than usual, can’t it?

Taylor Swift playlists to sob to, a tub of strawberry ice cream, a random rom com were all going to be your biggest hug of the night.

“GODS, THIS IS MISERABLE,”

A tub of half eaten ice cream sat sadly on your bedside table, a 90s romcom remained playing in the background. You couldn’t help frowning at the sight of the two leads falling in love, everything felt pathetic at this point.

You truly did stick to your words. Arriving back to an empty dorm room, courtesy to Minji for staying over at her boyfriend’s place, you practically had the whole dorm to yourself, meaning a space of free self loathing, you ran to your bed and plummeted into it. It took everything in you to not let out a blood curdling scream, instead you just took your laptop out and put on your favourite movie.

It was still early, midnight was barely approaching, so you were glad to be able to stay awake longer. It began raining heavily outside, a perfect sign for you to be in your sheets, reading your unfinished book that you’ve left hanging since months back. The whole scene of you being in bed on a rainy Friday night truly reflected a part from a romcom, how ironic it was.

In the midst of ‘16 Candles’ playing loudly on your laptop, the doorbell rang out of the blue. You froze, pausing the movie, slight paranoia creeping onto you. Right, being alone in an empty dorm room with a thunderstorm happening outside definitely wasn’t a common plot from horror. At first, you planned to ignore it, but a second ring prompted you to muster your courage to open the door.

‘I’m going to be fine’ chants were circling your mind as you approached the front door, one hand on the door knob, eyes glancing back and forth at the kitchen knife, you weren’t going down without a fight. A turn of the door knob and a pull of hand, the door swung open to a man. Wait. Not just any man—

“Jay?”

His name naturally rolled off your tongue, but your eyes couldn’t believe he’s actually standing right in front of you. 

Jay stared back, equally startled, as though he hadn’t expected you to open the door for him. He was standing there like a ghost, fully drenched from head to toe, shaking from the rain. His face was impassive, but his gaze showed otherwise, a hint of sadness and desperation painted in his brown irises.

“Are you insane?”

Jay glanced down at his attire that was basically soaked to the core, a small sigh escaping his lips. “We need to talk, Y/N,”

You nodded wordlessly, your eyes unknowingly avoiding his piercing gaze as you slowly backed away to the kitchen, grabbing a dry towel. “Here,” you handed Jay the towel, your hand shaking a little. 

“Thanks. Can I—” he took a peek over your shoulder, “—come in?”

“I—yeah,” you were slightly alarmed, moving to the side for him to enter before shutting the door, making sure to draw in a big breath to calm your nerves.

 “Y/N, please let me explain—”

“Jay, I’m really sorry—”

The two of you halted, realising that you’ve spoken in unison, the silence dawning on the both of you. Jay broke into an awkward smile and you felt yourself grinning just a little. Jay gestured at you to continue, so you did, letting out the things you’ve bottle in for days.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what happened and I just jumped to conclusions, which was wrong for me to do but—” you swallowed, blinking hard, “—but it was heart wrenching for me to see you kissing someone else, especially when it’s your ex, and it’s stupid, it’s so stupid that I’m feeling this way when we’re not even a thing!”

“It’s not stupid, Y/N,”

“It is,”

“It’s not,” Jay repeated, taking a step closer, a look of pining in his eyes as he searched for yours. You didn’t realise how much you’ve truly missed him until you saw him close. “I never intended to kiss Sujin, you know? I went out because she called me saying she needed help, and she took the chance when I was confused to kiss me. I know I’ve asked for you to trust me before, but if you don’t, I’ll get it,”

“I do,” you said at once, eliciting a small look of surprise from him. “I spoke to her,”

“What?”

“She admitted it to me, and I wanted to find you after the game but you were already gone, then I realised how much of an Idiot I was,” 

“Ah,” Jay said softly under his breath, combing his fingers through his hair, seemingly trying to digest everything in. The beat of silence was suffocating you gradually, uneasiness hung in the cold air of your dorm. It took you everything to pour the words you’ve been holding in your heart out.

“I trust you, I do, but what are we, Jay? What are we doing?” you breathed out, chewing anxiously on your bottom lip. “If you want to end it here, then say it—”

“We can be anything you want,”

“I want you, Jay,” you blurted out, it was too late to turn back and run now. “I don’t want you to need me, I want you to want me, just as much as I want you,”

Jay stepped closer, testing the waters between you and him before sensing the green light from you to continue further. Space was practically nonexistent, you were inches from him, letting his hand wander from your face to the back of your neck, naturally leaning into his warm touch that reminded you of the feeling of fire on a cold night. The hand resting on the back of your neck pulled you in closer, one wrong move and you would be kissing him. 

“I do want you,” Jay said quietly, the minty scent laced in his breath entering your senses. “I like you, Y/N. There’s no doubt about that, I know it. I’m aware that this whole thing started out fake and I expected nothing from it, but when I realised I felt something more for you, I was scared you would leave, especially since I had a history of—”

“Being a fuckboy?”

Jay rolled his eyes, grinning at the unamused look on your face. “That. So I thought letting you go after that night was a good decision, that my feelings would eventually disappear and you wouldn’t be hurt anymore, but God, I ended up hurting you instead and you have no idea how I had lost my mind,”

“Jay…” you were quite literally speechless, his words didn’t just had to tongue tied and had rendered you wordless completely, it made your insides twist and turn in the most childish way, it made you feel like you were a teenage girl who had just talked to her crush for the first time, you were giddy. 

“I choose you, my love. Any day, any time, anywhere. It’s always going to be you, only you,”

You were resisting the urge to break into the cheesiest smile ever, Park Jong Seong was about to be the death of you. “I like you too, big head. If you don’t kiss me now, I might change my mind,”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” 

Jay finally closed the space between you and him, pressing his lips on yours feverishly, your honey flavoured melting onto his lips and his cologne swarmed your senses, this was heaven. His hand travelled back to rest on your cheek, while yours was having a field trip travelling up his chest and into his hair, giving a slight tug which resulted in a groan from him. You tilted your head, feeling Jay part his lips and deepening the kiss, his other hand on your waist to pull you much more closer, your body now pressed up against his.

“Y/N,” he mumbled against your lips as you gently pushed him towards your couch. 

You hummed in response, feeling his body fall onto the couch with a thud and you followed suit, falling onto his lap, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. You opened your eyes, pulling away to meet his heavy gaze that was staring back with equal desire.

“Be my girlfriend?” his voice came out in a whisper, but your ears perked up at those three words, a teasing grin pulled at your lips and your hand instinctively reached for his cheek to squeeze, earning a look of annoyance and endearment from him.

“Only if you take me out to dinner first, big head,”

“You’re such a tease,” he chuckled, pressing a haste kiss on the side of your lips and you giggled, brushing the strands of hair from his forehead.

“I’d be crazy to say ‘no’ after all this, you idiot,” you flicked at his forehead, eliciting a sharp hiss and a piercing glare from him, reminding you of a black cat. “So, yes, I’d like to be your girlfriend,”

You watched the man before you smiling wider than the time he won the championship with his team last season, his eyes shining bright and face beaming. Gosh, he was such a dream. One hand cupped your cheek, pinching it softly, “Don’t worry, I’ll treat you like my wife instead,”

You rolled your eyes at his words, deadpanning at him. “You’re too cheesy, Park Jong Seong,”

“And you love me for that.” he said in a sing-song tone before bringing you in for another kiss, this time softer and gentler, as if Jay was scared he would shatter you if he had kissed you too hard. 

If you had the choice to stay just like this for the next few hours, you would gladly take it. You were relieved everything was well now, even if it meant Jay's wet pants were staining your couch, but you're sure Minji would understand.

Just as Taylor Swift would say, you believe you were entering your 'Lover' era, and you couldn't wait to be with your hotheaded hockey boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend, with no space.

“SO … YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN INTO ME ALL ALONG?”

It has been a few months since you and Jay made it official together. To top off the unforgettable experience, Minji came home the next day to see you and him cuddling in bed, not missing the chance to get a picture and proceeding to give Jay a humble Ted Talk during breakfast, but it was all good after. 

Jay did stick to your request and bring you out for dinner, but Heeseung and Sunghoon unintentionally beat him to it first by dragging you to the buffet they promised before Jay’s fancy dinner night, and he was forced to follow begrudgingly. Breaking the news to Heeseung and Sunghoon was definitely an interesting occurrence, including the usual bro talk and the crazy ship names, but in the end, they were glad you were finally together with Jay and was miles prouder of Jay for finally working up the courage to confess. 

Now, here you were, on a Saturday night at Jay’s apartment enjoying a glass of wine, a random rom com in the background as promised of a marathon, and listening to your tipsy boyfriend spill about his first impression of you, which led to him unveiling the part where he laid eyes on you during the hockey game. 

“Not always, don’t get ahead of yourself,” Jay cut you off, raising an eyebrow at you. "I still can't believe you called hockey stupid,"

"It was a moment of hatred, okay?" You tapped his chin, swirling the wine glass in your hand. "Now, I'm a big hockey fan,"

"You're stupid," 

You feigned a dramatic gasp, punching his shoulder softly. "You're stupid … stupid,"

"Yes, yes, I am," Jay eventually gave in, closing in and pressing his lips onto yours, tasting the familiar taste of the red wine on your tongue. "I'm so grateful to have you with me, lovely. What would I be doing without you?"

"Fucking other girls?"

"You've ruined the mood,"

You laughed, pressing a kiss on his cheek. "I'm kidding. You would be in a ditch without me,"

"You're not wrong," Jay's thumb was grazing against your lip, his eyes half-lidded, the alcohol in his system overpowering. "God, I love you,"

"I love you more, big head," you said, feeling a swarm of butterflies fluttering wildly in your abdomen. Jay was perfect, too perfect that it intimidated you, but what you didn't know was that he felt the same way about you too. "Are you turning red, Jong Seong?"

"What? Pft, it's the wine," he waved your words off, turning away to hide the obvious that he was becoming a shade of pink and maroon. You snorted at his ridiculousness, pushing his face to face back at you.

"Kiss me again?"

"You make me such a happy man, you know that?" Jay grinned, saying nothing more and pulled you in, abandoning his wine glass.

Jay couldn’t help but smile against your lips, being the happiest man in the entire universe at this moment, because he knew he finally got the girl, his girl, and there was no way he would ever lose you again. Never.

[targaryenluvs]

— PROTECTOR

pairing: yandere!percy jackson x fem!gf!reader

summary: percy can’t seem to grasp the idea that you can survive just fine on your own.

warnings: arguments, combat, injuries, kinda backwards views/manly views, kind of dark (protective) jealousy, obsessed?? smothering/coddling

a/n: basically he can’t stop worrying, lmk if u want a part 2! sorry it’s short - i already did part two heheh just now

PART TWO

specially for the amazingly talented @lady-ashfade

percy was incessant.

ever since you’d reached camp and gotten settled in, he seemed to be everywhere. whether it be in the mornings at breakfast, at training, when you hung out with your friends, your boyfriend always found away to be right there with you. spacial boundaries be damned.

everyone noticed, they all chalked it up to adorableness. the two of you couldn’t stand to be apart from each other for too long, how adorable was that? but that was only the start. the following along you could put up with, it was quite easy to escape when needed. letting him talk to your friends and get engrossed in the gossip of the ares cabin. excusing yourself from him for lady reasons which never failed to make him red in the face.

it wasn’t as if you were sick of him or anything but you felt smothered. everywhere you turned he was right there, shining smile and ready to talk your ear off. you figured as your relationship progressed and he made more friends, that he’d have his own time.

why would he need friends when he has you?

but your rude awakening came in the form of a training session with a friend.

harry was one of the first people who welcomed you into your cabin, open arms and a warm smile. and percy hated him most. he hated the fact that someone else was able to provide you with the comfort he assumed only could originate from him. anytime the two of you were hanging out hed always inject himself in between the two of you.

“are you trying to burn your marshmallow?” harry laughed at your words whilst retracting his stick, “no but i like it crispy, chocolate melts easier with it.” the two of you had a long day, training with new campers and helping them settle in with luke. even if you didn’t have to, solving a dispute with the ares kids. and even solving the mystery of the stolen shoes. percy had been in the infirmary as a punishment for being out later than usual and accidentally falling from a tree.

he was trying to make sure you were safe in your cabin.

he’d been annoying the apollo kids into letting him out early and at some point they couldn’t take it anymore so they let him go. coming to see you, he didn’t expect to find you sitting next to harry, sharing a marshmallow. of course most people would just see it as a normal sharing but for percy? he wanted to drown the boy. who does he think he is? making a move on his girlfriend just because he’s in the infirmary?

“y/n.” his stern voice drew you from your conversation as you got up, “perce! you’re okay!” you smiled as you walked over to him, percy’s eyes were still trained on the kid. “perce?” you waved your hand in front of his face as percy grabbed a hold of your wrist and pulled you along, “what the hell? if you want me to come with you then just say so!” you were infront of his cabin now and he did not look happy, “i’m stuck in the infirmary and instead of coming to visit me, you’re hanging out with him?” his voice was filled with disgust, as your expression screamed puzzled.

“i was the first person who visited you! straight away, but you were unconscious for hours! there’s no point in me sitting there, since it’s not going to help you. so i got out of the way and let them do their work. my world doesn’t stop spinning because you’re not there percy.” you were too busy looking at him, his curling fists going unnoticed.

“i’m your boyfriend, not him. i don’t want to see you around him.” your hand slapped over your mouth as you laughed, from far away you might’ve seemed insane. your hands clutched your head, then abdomen as you laughed, “ahaha! oh my god! you’re crazy! you don’t own me, nor control me percy. if you want to be my boyfriend, you need to learn that i am my own person. when you change your attitude, then come back to me.” you walked away from him, before turning around.

“and until then i’m not sleeping here.” you ran inside to pick up your clothes and bag as percy stood in the doorway, “are you serious?” you clutched all of your belongings, as if he’d try to steal them, “yes i am.” surprisingly he let you go, watching you walk back to your own cabin.

the rest of the night he spent thinking of how he could get you back in his grasp. capture the flag was tomorrow, and he had a plan to make you see just how much you needed him.

[calliopeslyrics]

firegirl

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of Hephaestus! reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: mention/description of drowning, very little angst.

summary: in which a date by the lake goes wrong, including a lack of swim lessons and tearful confessions.

-

You’d heard about the stories of the god’s wrath. Hera’s jealousy, Demeter’s wrath, Aphrodite’s envy - your mother had warned you through the tales of Psyche and Io and Persephone long since you were a child wading through fire. A child born of ash and fire, that was what you were. A force of destruction, born only to create with the very hands that burn through flesh and blood.

The stories didn’t mean much at the time, ancient tales of caution now serving as bedtime stories for a little girl that refused to sleep due to constant nightmares. But you should’ve paid better attention, should’ve noticed the urgency in your mothers tone when she warned you again and again that the gods are not forgiving gods.

But maybe facing a jealous goddess’s wrath was better than any other gift your father had given you. Blessed with the knowledge of forgery and fire, you should’ve known that you’d have to stay away from large bodies of water unless you wanted to turn a pool into a hot tub.

You never really learned to swim, not in the way that counted. Sure, you knew how to hold your breath and doggy paddle from one end to another, but your expertise in swimming never extended past the basics. It was something you weren’t so keen on sharing, not when everyone knows how to swim. 

When you were smaller, taking a bath meant going outside and having your mom spray you with the hose before you could turn the water to steam. Pool days meant dipping your toes and fingers in the water, and nothing else.

You can look, but don’t touch, your mom had told after one particular accident. It was your cousin’s birthday party, another pool party to relax during the sweltering days of summer. While your cousins and their friends played chicken and cannonball into the water, you stayed at the edge of the pool, watching and just wishing to feel more than a droplet of water splash onto you.

The gods must have heard your wishing because the next thing you knew, you were submerged into water. Little six year old you in six feet deep water, what could go wrong? You don’t remember much from that day, only that you screamed and splashed and cried and soon the other kids screamed and splashed around you too.

It wasn’t until later that you learned that due to an overheating issue in the pool’s pipes, the pool’s water began to heat up until it was as boiling as the hot tub. A freak accident, the pool company called it after getting bombarded with angry parents threatening to sue. You also learned more years later that your panicked state brought that pool to its near boiling temperature. 

From that day forward, your mom made a strict rule - no more pool parties, no more swim lessons, and no more unnecessary contact with water. It was too dangerous, she said. And you were too young to argue, so you agreed.

It wasn't until you arrived at Camp Half Blood when you realized how much you were missing out because of that rule. The camp itinerary was filled with fun activities that had dangerous monsters sprinkled in between the activities - perfect for someone who has no idea what world they've gotten themselves into.

There was pegasus riding in the morning, then water balloon fights between cabins, some days had sword practice against some monsters in the forest, then a lunch break while the satyrs played ancient songs on their pipes. You often watched other campers jump into the lake during the hot summer days, wondering if you’d ever get to swim freely like they do. 

You quickly learned the dynamic within the camp, at how quickly your life can change with a simple symbol. The day that a fiery hammer hovered over your head was the day that you realized you weren’t alone. Your absent father wasn’t a piece of shit that couldn’t afford child support but the god of fire and forgery - Hephaestus.

All the weird coincidences in your life seemed to make sense. Your constant sweating and overly warm body, your skill with handiwork despite having no experience with tools - it was in your blood to create dangerous flames, to burn and rebuild in the same breath.

The other children of Hephestus didn’t seem to mind having an addition to their cabin, welcoming you with open arms that were stained with grease and oil. They were the siblings you never had, your quirks within the outside world becoming a norm within Cabin 9. 

No one seemed to mind the constant overheating from their bodies or the unfinished projects that were scattered along the floor, no one made a face at the sweat that slipped down your face from a hard day’s work of building and destroying and rebuilding again. It was like you could finally belong somewhere, maybe you could even call it a home.

Your siblings never complained about the countless forgery, the mixture of sweat and smoke clinging onto your clothes. There were more days where grease stained your hands and face, which left you in a sour mood after laundry duty, or when you wished you could skip dinner to finish this project because you’re so close to getting it to work.

Overalls and aprons became your favorite items to wear, your pockets filled with scraps of metal and loose screws that you’ve scrapped from the other cabins. You’ve learned how to 

But despite the warm welcome you received from your siblings and the amazing cabin life you adapted to, you could never shake the jealousy within you when it came to lake days. You’d often spend your time watching the campers with a longing gaze, wishing you could join them in the cool water that left them squealing and laughing when they touched the water.

Luke had suggested you spend time in the lake with him for the afternoon, saying something about needing a day to yourselves. And you agreed - most days seemed to blur together after an influx of Ares children played too roughly amongst themselves. Shields and spears needed modifications, swords needed to be resharpened, even armor needed to be fixed from some mysterious stabbings that appeared along the chest plates. 

So there you were, standing just a couple feet away from the lake, towel in hand as if you were ever going to get into the water. Luke wasted no time getting ready for his swim, as evident by the smears of sunscreen along his nose and cheeks that hadn’t been smoothed properly.

There was something about the lake that always had Luke acting excited. Maybe it was because he could step away from his duties, dropping the mask of confidence that he carried around the younger campers. Or maybe it was the sense of normalcy the lake brought, as if you weren’t demigods fighting for your lives everyday and just a couple of normal teenagers enjoying a hot summer day.

“Aren’t you going to get in?” Luke asked, his calm tone bringing you out of your thoughts. He  gave you a questioning glance at your attire, a simple once over before raising an eyebrow at you. You were still dressed in your camp shirt and shorts, stained with grease and oil from your morning in the forgery. 

You shook your head, giving Luke a sympathetic smile. “I can’t.” you said simply, brushing at the stains in your shirt as if it were the only thing stopping you from swimming. Your towel laid limp in your hold, still folded from the years of sitting in your closet, and you made a mental note to throw it out one of these days.

Luke still doesn’t know of your mother’s rule or the pool incident all those years ago - mostly because you just didn’t know how to tell him and because he never asked. There was hardly a day where you could have a day to yourselves as demigods, constantly preparing for war against monsters and gods and each other. Swimming seemed like the least of your worries when Zeus was threatening to smite down a certain demigod when his lightning bolt went missing.

“You don’t know how to swim?” Luke snorted, giving you a disbelieving look. He was the one to suggest a pool date in the first place and while you were inclined to agree because you do love seeing Luke shirtless, you soon began to wonder if you should’ve declined his offer.

You rolled out your beach towel, a burnt orange color similar to your camp shirt, and sat stubbornly in the middle. You left your sandals on the grass, enjoying the slight freedom from the You didn’t bother shrugging off your clothes despite your swim suit underneath, it’s not like you’d get it wet anyway.

You can look, but don’t touch.

“Fire and water don’t mix well, Luke.” you scowled, crossing your arms defensively. You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment and you knew it wouldn’t be long before your body began to heat up as well. In an attempt to distract yourself, you grabbed a small bottle of sunscreen from your bag, relishing in the coolness of the cream as you applied it to your arms and legs. “It’s basic science, you nerd.”

Luke raised his hands in mock surrender, casually tugging his Camp Half Blood shirt off and tossing it by his shoes. He was always so comfortable in his body, his sleeves usually rolled up to his shoulders to show off his biceps that were toned from years worth of training. And though you’ve been dating for a while now, you tried not to stare at his defined stomach, at how his biceps casually flexed with every movement.

Luke cleared his throat, and you quickly looked away from his body, catching his gaze instead. “Like what you see?” he asked teasingly, giving you a suggestive smirk. You playfully scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from Luke to hide your own smile.

It’s been two years since you first started dating Luke and yet he still tries to court and flirt with you like the first day you met. His ego was constantly inflated with your stares and small flirtatious quips, though you loved to act annoyed at how easily he revels in your attention. Lingering touches and lovesick glances was the trademark of your relationship with Luke, most dates filled with sneaking away from your camp to escape the reality of your lives.

“You wish, Castellan.” You huffed, slowly toeing your own shoes off. You didn’t mind not knowing how to swim, you never needed it growing up. Instead of swim lessons, your mom put you in welding and crafting lessons. Instead of wading through the deep end of pools, you learned how much heat you could handle from a fire before you could feel the burn. 

You never complained about your lack of experience, it didn’t seem like something worth complaining about. But now, as the summer days started to grow hotter and hotter, you started to envy anyone who could splash around in the lake. 

Luke shrugged, taking no mind to your tone and immediately getting into the water. He let out a satisfied groan at the temperature, wadding further and further into the water until it was up to his waist. You watched with a smile as Luke let himself get used to the water, occasionally trying to float when the sun wasn’t in his face.

“Are you sure you don't want to come in? The water is soooo nice” Luke looked up at you from his spot in the lake, his hair already sopping wet from his plunges underwater. It took all of your strength not to let your gaze wander along his chest, down further to his abs before the water obstructed your view. 

You gave him a reassuring smile and nodded, casually toeing the water as if you were checking the temperature. The cold water of the lake stung at first, always clashing with the overly warmness of your body. But after keeping your feet dipped in the water. It felt nice, refreshing even, to feel the biting cold of the water against the heat of your skin. 

For a second, you forgot that you were the daughter of the fire god, blessed with eternal warmth and cursed with hotheadedness. You were just another body in the water, enjoying the refreshing cold the water offered after a long day’s work of crafting. The water seemed to call to you, inviting you closer to the crystal clear deep of the lake, promising an ice cold plunge that would soothe your aching muscles.

A splash of cold water to your face brought you back to reality, and you opened your eyes to glare at the perpetrator. Instead of facing your annoying boyfriend, you found yourself face to face with a guilty looking son of Poseidon.

Percy Jackson winced at your glare, giving you an awkward wave. The water was at his shoulders, though the boy seemed to have no trouble standing along the deep end with your boyfriend. You waved back, giving the boy a small smile while he streamed out his apologies as quickly as he could.

“I meant to hit Luke, I swear!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. Another wave followed his hands movements and splashed you again, drenching your clothes in ice cold water. You wiped your hair from your face, letting out a hiss at the freezing sensation, but gave the boy a dismissive wave. “Sorry! Sorry again!”

“Percy, stop drenching my girlfriend,” Luke said with a laugh, splashing water onto the boy. The water moved around Percy smoothly, as though the waves had a mind of its own, and crashed upon another camper nearby. In retaliation, Percy swept more water towards Luke, still splashing you with droplets whenever Luke dodged and moved around to avoid the water.

Though you couldn’t join them, you enjoyed watching Luke relax on days like this - where his duties as cabin counselor didn’t weigh on him and he didn’t have to worry about accommodating another unclaimed child in his already crammed cabin. Instead, he was roughhousing with Percy, now determined to win whatever made up game they had thought of.

“I didn’t mean to!” Percy exclaimed, still waving his hands around. Stronger waves surged towards you, hitting you with more force until you were soaking wet along the edge of the lake. Luke laughed and launched at the boy, wading deeper and deeper along the lake until Percy disappeared beneath the water and reappeared somewhere else.

You don’t remember what happened next. 

One moment, Luke is splashing more water onto Percy and you’re laughing at how they’re moving within the water. Then in another a giant wave rushes at you, immediately pulling you deep into the water. Your surprised gasp is muffled by the sound of moving water and before you knew it, you were engulfed by the freezing sensation all around you.

The water was cold, ice cold, stinging your entire body with the freezing temperature as you fought against the invisible force in the water. You opened your mouth to scream, to call for Luke or Percy or anyone that could help, but water filled your mouth and lungs and all you could do was panic. Above you, you could see Luke and Percy halt in their roughplaying, their bodies still as you struggled underwater.

Swim, you needed to swim. 

But you didn’t know how, didn’t know anything other than to frantically kick at the water, your arms reaching out for something, someone to hold onto. The pounding in your head wouldn’t stop as you tried to push your way up, towards the surface that seemed to move further and further away from your reach.

You can look, but don’t touch, those mocking words echoed in your mind once again, taunting you. A small part of you wanted to give up, there was no point in fighting a losing battle. But as you kicked at the water, pushing yourself up,up,up against the numbing water, you wondered how much longer you could struggle before anyone would help.

Panic clawed at your chest as the roaring of the waves crashed over you again and again. Your lungs burned, your heart pounding wildly with fear at the prospect that you might not be able to make it to the surface. You could hear the muffled shouting from above, the sound of someone shouting your name though you could barely hear it. 

A disgruntled sound came from your mouth, weak and sad, as your arms and legs burned in agony with every movement. The burning in your lungs only grew and the salty taste in your mouth made you want to gag as you slowed your flailing to a stop. You weren’t sure if you were crying or if your eyes were burning from the water, you couldn’t tell anymore when all you could do was let yourself sink slowly to the bottom.

All you could do was stare at the surface, watching the light slowly dim as the silhouettes above you rushed towards you. You thought of Luke, how he wanted to have a lake party with his girlfriend before the last days of summer ended. Was that his voice calling out your name, or were you starting to hallucinate? You weren’t sure anymore, not when the water numbed your entire body and the cold turned into a comforting feeling of nothingness all around you.

Maybe your mother was wrong, you thought as your eyes closed, maybe the water wasn’t so bad after all. A rushing sound of water filled your ears, or maybe that was another thing your mind was making up. Maybe you could rest for a bit, let your body relax before you’d swim back to the surface.

Rest - rest was good you decided. With the last bit of consciousness that you had, you thought of Luke one more time before everything faded to black, and your body felt like the nothingness that surrounded you.

Pressure against your chest was the first thing you felt, the thump, thump, thump of something against your chest in a rhythmic beat crushing your chest. It continued in a familiar pattern, thump, thump, thump until more pressure filled your throat and lungs - air.

You woke up with a start, sitting upright and spitting out water you didn’t know you had in your mouth. Tears streamed down your face as you coughed, air finally filling your lungs again as you took in deep, wild breaths. The lights were too bright, blinding you are you tried to take in your surroundings, searching for something familiar to ground you.

The sound of murmuring surrounded you, and you found yourself staring at concerned campers still clad in their swimwear and summer clothes. Sandy blonde hair, deep tans, some with freckles and others with almost glowing eyes - you recognized them as the children of Apollo, all watching you from their spots around your cot.

“What happened?” you rasped, glancing up at the closest person around you - a boy around Percy’s age with a grim look on his face. You recognized him from some of the games, he was more known for his healing skills than anything though he was equally as dangerous with a bow. But you couldn’t remember his name, not when the slight ringing in your ears filled your head.

The boy sighed, wiping his brow as he shooed the rest of the onlookers away. The children of Apollo murmured amongst themselves as they were ushered away, concerned glances cast your way as you watched the boy move with authority. Though he was shorter than some of his siblings, the blond carried himself as if he were wiser beyond his years.

You almost felt bad for him, seeing the same weight of responsibility that constantly hounded Luke crash upon the boy, probably more with the responsibility to heal the wounded. If he had any sense of resentment for his job, the head counselor didn’t show it, save for the tired look on his face once the final camper left your cot.

You attempted to lift yourself from your cot, barely bringing your legs over the edge before hissing in pain. Soreness shot from your thighs down to your calves, and you dug the palms of your hands into the soft mattress as you continued to move towards the edge. 

As if realizing your plan, the blond rushed to the side of your cot, holding onto your shoulders in warning. Though he was younger, the child of Apollo was not weak. His grip tightened on your shoulder, as if holding you in place, and you didn't dare challenge his hold. He stared at you, blue eyes daring you to move any closer to the edge, and you felt compelled to heed the hidden warning in his gaze.

“You drowned, I don’t even think calling you lucky is the right thing to describe your situation.” he said softly, his grip never loosening. He reminded you of those doctors you see on those dramatic shows back at home, with a stern and yet disappointed look on his face that made him look older than he really was. “I don’t know how long you were out, but you didn’t have a pulse when they brought you here…” He trailed off, and you sunk into your bed at the realization that you were more than just unconscious. Gods, you almost died drowning. An embarrassed flush spread at your cheeks at the image of the younger campers watching you horribly flail around in the water. You made a mental note to look for swimming lessons from the naiads around the lake, as if they’d be more help than the only child of Poseidon in camp.

“Is Luke-”

“He’s taking a break, he’s been here since you got here.” he said, his light blue eyes gleaming with a knowing look. You let out a small sigh of relief, falling back into the soft pillows of the Apollo cabin’s cot. The pain in your arms and legs had now dulled to soreness, and you knew you’d have to take it easy for the next few days until you could return to the forgery again.

The camper didn’t say anything else as he rummaged through the cabinets and drawers of the healing station. You’re not sure how long you were out for, and a small part of you was too afraid to ask. The knowledge of the time that passed while the children of Apollo tried to bring you back to consciousness made your head feel dizzy and something like bile threatened to rise at the thought of Luke seeing you like that.

Sometime later, the familiar sound of the dinner bell rang throughout camp. Voices all flooded outside the cabin, conversations carrying into your side of the Apollo cabin as the campers made their way to the dining pavilion. You’re pretty sure you heard your name in a couple of the conversations, and you turned away from the window to avoid the wandering gazes of the curious campers walking by.

The door to the cabin opened and the setting sun’s light peered into the cabin, bringing a dramatic backlight to whoever entered. You tilted your head towards the light, eyes blinking at the golden light as you took in the silhouette of none other than your boyfriend.

Ah, Will Solace, you suddenly remembered the familiar freckles and subtle Texan accent that could only belong to one child of Apollo here. You’ve seen him run throughout camp a couple times, sometimes wandering close to 

“She’s been up for some time,” Will murmured, more to Luke than you. Luke mumbled something to Will before moving past the boy, walking up to your cot, pressing his fingers against your palm before gently brushing his thumb against your cheek. You leaned into his soft touch, glancing up at him for the first time since the incident.

“Hi,” you whispered softly, looking up at Luke with a sudden shyness. Part of you wanted to hide under your covers, to pretend that you lost your memory and conveniently forgot everything that happened at the lake. But the bloodshot red in Luke’s eyes and slight frown on his lips had a pang of hurt echo throughout your chest at the realization of just how devastating Luke looked.

“Hi,” he whispered back, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, looking away slightly while he blinked his tears away, and you glanced at your hands instead. You gave him the time he needed, holding his hand with shaking fingers and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry for….everything.”

You frowned at Luke’s words, at the sullen look in his face and guilt in his tone. He was always so quick to blame himself when things went wrong, so selfless and yet selfishly taking the blame. It was the burden he always seemed to carry as one of the eldest campers, to accept more and more responsibility until the weight broke you down.

“It’s not your fault,” you said softly. Guilt lay heavy in your words, at your own fault for scaring Luke this way. But he needed comfort, he needed you just as much as you needed him right now, and you were okay with ignoring what happened if it meant that Luke would calm down.“It was an accident, that’s all.”

Luke continued, as if he didn’t hear you, his words coming out in a jumbled stream of panicked breaths. You could practically see his train of thought, the anxious thoughts leading with what if, what if, what if, pulling him down a rabbit hole of worse and worse situations. “I should’ve known. I wasn’t thinking and next thing I knew, you were underwater-”

“Luke,” you said sternly, dropping his hand. He turned towards you, that same sad look still in his eyes, now amplified at your tone. Gods, what you would give to make it go away, to make him laugh once more and see that stupid smile you love so much. “I’m okay. I just can’t swim, it’s not a big deal.”

Luke blinked, the only indication of surprise he’d give you. You could see the internal battle within him, forcing him to choose one or the other - to scold or cry, to hold or push away.

“You didn’t have a pulse.” Luke said at last. His eyes were full of tears and when he looked at you, you saw fear, true fear in Luke’s eyes. Luke, who never hesitated to break up a brawl between campers, who wasn’t afraid to speak of his father with spite and venom in his voice. Luke, the greatest man you’ve ever known, regardless of his demigod status or parentage, was afraid. “When we got you back on land, you didn’t have a pulse.”

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. There were so many things to say, comforting words mixed with a thousand apologies, but you couldn’t find the words. Today was an accident, but you were here, you were okay.

“I started CPR, but you never…” he cleared his throat and blinked at the tears despite the fact that they’ve fallen down his cheeks already. You lifted a hand to his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing away the tears and tracing down the scar that bore down his face. He was always so brave, but a small part of you wondered if you truly scared Luke for the first time in your relationship. “It wasn’t until Will got to you and started doing compressions, you finally started to regain consciousness.”

“I thought I lost you,” he admitted. You didn’t say anything, letting the words settle within you. Luke looked up at you, lips trembling and tears falling. His confident cool-guy persona was gone, the mask finally broken and revealing Luke’s vulnerable side, the one he kept so secretly hidden from everyone in his life. “I don’t...I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Luke’s shoulders slumped, as if his confession had been weighing on him the entire time. You patted your hand at the now empty space on the other side of your cot, smoothing out the blanket’s wrinkles. Luke looked up at you, as if asking for permission, and you nodded.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you said softly, scooting towards the edge of your cot and looking up at Luke expectantly. Luke just stood by the side, watching you with caution, as if he were afraid you were going to fall unconscious once again. You tried to ignore the pang of hurt that echoed in your chest at his stillness. “You’re stuck with me, Castellan. Forever and ever.”

Gently, Luke settled into the space next to you, shifting his body ever so slightly to avoid the creaking of the cot beneath you. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body until you could rest your head on his chest. You nestled into his embrace, the solid warmth of his chest offering solace in the empty room around you.

His heart beat in a soft and steady rhythm, the faint ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum of his heartbeat bringing a soothing comfort only Luke could ever bring. It was your favorite sound - the promise of his eternal devotion, the reminder that he’s just as okay as you are.

“No more lake days.” Luke murmured more to himself, his voice a soft whisper against your neck. His breath felt warm against your skin, and you shifted slightly in Luke’s hold to look at him better.

Dark, curly hair swept along his forehead, nearly covering his eyes. You brushed his hair away from his face, fingers gently playing with his curls. But it was his eyes that truly captivated you - pools of soft brown that gazed at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, drawing you into their depths like a moth to a flame.

In their depths, you could see a myriad of emotions swirling - love, longing, and a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath the surface. It was as if his eyes held the secrets to his soul, bared for you and you alone to see.

As Luke looked at you now, his gaze soft and full of affection, you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest. In the soft brown of Luke’s eyes was the reflection of your own love, mirrored back to you in all its raw and unbridled beauty.

You hummed in response, stretching your arms out to wrap them around his broad shoulders. His arms flexed as he held you tightly, as if he were afraid to ever let go, and you didn’t mind. “No more lake days.”

You laid entwined in each other’s arms, the weight of today’s actions leaving your mind. Tomorrow, you’d ask Percy for swim lessons and maybe offer some food to Poseidon as an apology. You’d definitely thank Will Solace later, maybe with a handmade gift that could hold his medical instruments. 

But for now, you were content laying with Luke, the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulling you to a dreamless slumber.

[ramons-elevator]

*SLAMS HANDS ON DESK*

FUCKING PHILS POV

Everything about his POV was bone chilling holy shit. Also fucking shoutout to the admins for picking Chayanne and Tallulah bc that was a really smart move.

For some context for those who arent Philza watchers:

Tallulah and Chayanne obey Phil. Yes they can be divas sometimes and be dumb and silly, but they arent like their siblings like Dapper and Richas who will just be dramatic and do dumb and dangerous stuff when their parents dont feel 100% okay with it. They will throw a fit but still be respectful of Phil’s word.

Phil said multiple times to them, especially Tallulah, to not go to the dinner no matter what. That as soon as it hits 2pm PST, they get tucked into bed and they can wake up after if they want. Chay and Lullah both agreed bc they both fear dying. Tallulah wants to see her dad and Chayanne knows how hard his dad works to make sure they are safe.

Let me fucking tell you how creepy it was seeing Tallulah walk into the dinner.

Phil immediately questioned her and was like “what the fuck you doing? We both agreed you would stay in bed.” and when ‘Tallulah’ just stared at him and shook her maracas, you could feel the air still.

Personally, it felt like a bucket of ice water got dumped on me. Phil literally froze. Because thats not fucking Tallulah. Tallulah is calculated, gentle, and slow moving. The ‘Tallulah’ at the dinner was shaking her maracas without a care in the world, running around. Also Tallulah will talk to Phil and they check in on each other. The ‘Tallulah’ at the dinner didnt put down a sign once.

Then as Phil was realizing that Tallulah wasn’t Tallulah, then ‘Chayanne’ comes in. At this point Phil realized that both ‘Tallulah’ and ‘Chayanne’ dont have cracks. Phil straight up looks at ‘Chayanne’ and says “You are fake, you arent my son.” Also same thing with Tallulah, Chayanne and Phil check in with each other. They are a well oiled machine. Phil knows Chayanne like the back of his hand and vise versa.

To be fair, Chayanne isnt an egg of many words. He likes action and just nods/shakes of his head when talking. If need be he will place a sign down, but he doesnt talk as much as Tallulah. So it isnt hard to impersonate him.

But the second, ‘Chayanne’ started punching Phil was again bone chilling. Chayanne rarely hits Phil, maybe once or twice from the top of my head. Again, Chay and Lulah are very respectful of Phil. If they need his attention, they do other ways. They dont hit.

And thats when Phil let Fit know that something was wrong. Those werent his kids. That they are fakes. Around that time, Phil runs home and sees that his actual kids are sleeping. He takes a photo, runs back, and fucking shows ‘Chayanne’. Phil lets the fakes know that he knows and he doesnt give a shit.

At some point, Phil and Fit talk again and ‘Chayanne’ runs up and tries to take the photo from Phil. Phil basically said fuck off and went back to his seat.

The part I find so fucking eerie was that Fit and ‘Chayanne’ had a lil talk. ‘Chayanne’ put down a sign that said something along the lines of “My dad doesnt love me anymore”.

That sign literally made me start to freak out because thats the fucking last thing the real Chayanne thinks. The real Chayanne knows that his dad loves him to death. That Phil would burn this server to the ground if anything bad happened to Chayanne. Chayanne knows that Phil does everything in his power to keep his son alive. He knows how much Phil worries about him and Tallulah (both the characters and the admins).

Going back to what I said at the start, the admins were so fucking smart for picking Chayanne and Tallulah to be the ‘Code eggs’.

People outside of Phil, Fit, Bad, and maybe Forever/Cellbit dont really spend time with Chayanne and Tallulah. Yes, other people do care after them and know them, but they really dont know their mannerisms and quirks. They dont know that Tallulah only shakes her Maracas when she is very excited or have something to say. They dont know that, while Chayanne can be hyper, he usually is very obedient and stays close to Tallulah when he can.

So putting them in a party where the attention isnt on them 100% time is so smart. They can run around and people dont think about it. They just see two eggs running around and having fun. They dont know how wrong it is to see them like that.

Then when the ‘Code eggs’ made themselves known, Phil got kicked. Again very smart from the admins because no one wanted to kill ‘Chayanne’ and ‘Tallulah’ even though they were obviously Codes. Even Fit, who Phil told over and over again that those arent his kids, hit the Codes once or twice but stopped because he didnt wanna take that risk. No one wanted to take the chance of hurting an egg. It gave the ‘Code eggs’ time to kill Charlie and try to kill others.

But the second Phil joins back, he is screaming that those arent his kids and to kill them. That they were impostors. Even then, they let Phil kill the Code eggs.

Then when Code Tallulah died, everyone stepped back and let Phil 1v1 Code Chayanne.

Im so impressed with the admins and the people who played the fake Chayanne and Tallulah. They did such a good job of putting a spear of ice through my heart. 100/10 Bravo

[gyuwoncheol]

Worth It

Pair: Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: Smut smut smut. Pwp. Fiancé!Mingyu, established relationship. 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: Basically what happens when you tell Mingyu you’re his for the whole night.

Warnings: Mingyu in a white button down (this deserves a warning, yes), pwp, slight soft dom!Mingyu, very brief mention of dying but more as an expression, marking, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe, children), wall sex, fingering, hand job, multiple orgasms, cum eating, brief light spanking, biting (it's actually just nipping), light anal rimming, squirting, overstimulation, use of color system, dirty talk, praise, use of pet names (good girl, greedy girl, baby), Gyu actually being really sweet if you look at the tiny details, mention of a married Jeonghan, speeding while driving (do NOT do this). Please let me know if I missed something!

WC: 3.5k

Author’s Note: I was working on 2 other wips when Mingyu just wouldn’t leave me alone. This is the result of that. Not my best work and not thoroughly proofread. But it is what it is. I just really needed to get this out of my system because the man is killing me. My inbox is very much open if you wanna thirst on Gyu with me!

Smut directly under the cut

“Gyu, if you keep touching me like that, i’m gonna wanna suck you off” you warned, swatting your fiancé’s hand away from your thigh

“I don’t see why that’s a problem” He shrugged happily, knuckles gripping onto the steering wheel tighter, excited at your proposition

“It’s a problem because you always close your eyes when you cum. You’re going to crash the car. I’d like to get fucked tonight, not die in an accident”

Mingyu laughed at your statement, not even disagreeing in the slightest bit. Yes you were both horny, but safety always came first, especially when it came to you. He wasn’t so sure what came over you. One moment you were both happily celebrating the wedding of your friends, and the next, you were whispering the dirtiest things in his ear during what he thought would be a romantic slow dance with you on the dancefloor.

Who could blame you though? Your fiancé looked every bit of scrumptious in his white button down today, plus he perfectly played his role of doting fiancé through the night: always holding your hand, always keeping you in his line of sight in the rare moments you two were separated, and always whispering 'i love you's'. He tried to be nice and not rush out the wedding venue right after the dance, and he succeeded for a while, but as the party drew on, it was getting more difficult to hide his boner so he practically dragged you to the car whilst waving a quick goodbye to your friends. 

"It's not my fault you're getting me riled up the whole night" he reasoned 

"It's also not my fault I'm engaged to the sexiest man in the world" 

Mingyu raised his brow at you whilst stopped at a red light, "it kinda is though... You did say yes when I proposed" 

"Then you better show me it was worth it" You challenged 

Just as the lights turned green, Mingyu could feel his dick twitch in his pants and he swore he never pressed on that gas pedal faster than he did. 

He couldn't even wait for you to unlock your doors before he was already kissing down your neck, his whole body pressed onto your back so you could feel his hard on. The feeling of his wet tongue on your burning skin had you fiddling for the wrong keys "Gyu! Slow down! I need to get us in" You pleaded with your source of distraction, "I'm yours the whole night, just let me get our keys right" 

"That's funny, you definitely weren't telling me to slow down or wait longer while you whispered all those things on the dance floor... But I will take you up on the offer of having you all night. That is noted" he said the last sentence in a low growl, sending chills down your spine.

Thankfully, the right key finally clicked and your door flew wide open. Mingyu drove you to the closest wall, your head lightly thumping against the hard surface. 

"shit! sorry baby" Mingyu's eyes grew wide, his hand immediately reaching over to the back of your head, worried he had just hurt you. 

You couldn't even care less, pushing your lips back on his for another kiss but Mingyu stopped you with his free hand, keeping you at half an arm's length. "No, no. I need to know. Are you okay?"

You saw just how quickly his eyes went from horny to caring and it got you even more turned on. 

"I'm okay baby, hardly even felt it" You rushed out, reaching for his neck to draw you closer to his lips again. This time, with his full cooperation.

It was everything but calm and collected. Mingyu didn't even leave you any room to fight for dominance as his tongue explored your mouth feverishly. 

He groaned when he felt your nails scratch lightly at his chest, his buttons now all undone and giving you access to his tanned skin. You slowly made your way through his chest, leaving love bites where you could and stripping him off the shirt. When your knees hit the floor, you excitedly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his black slacks, exposing his very hard cock that was fighting for release from the confines of his boxers which you eventually freed.

His angry tip momentarily brushed your lips as it sprang up against his stomach and Mingyu let out a moan from the brief contact. He just about died when you gently held his shaft, your tongue sticking out and just centimeters away from where he wanted you. It was as if time stopped for Mingyu. If he just knew where his phone was, he would have definitely memorialized this in a photo. 

Mingyu's precum was right there and you just needed to taste it, swiping your tongue fully on his tip before swirling it around him. You heard him curse which only prodded you even more, your thumb gently pressing down on where your tongue was just a few seconds ago as you slowly started to pump him up and down with both hands. The harder you worked him up, the more precum oozed out of him and everytime it did, you repeated the motion of pressing down on his tip before twisting your hands on his length. 

"Fuck baby, pleaseee" His voice strained. There was something about seeing that diamond ring on your finger as it wrapped around his cock that always got him in a mess

"Hm?" you blinked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes

"Mouth.. Tongue.. Please, I—" He stuttered and that was all you needed to finally get your lips wrapped around him, sucking with a fervor that had your fiance's eyes rolling to the back of his head. The taste of him sending a gush of wetness between your legs. 

Mingyu's mouth hung wide open, letting every whimper and moan come out in full volume as you slowly took more of his length with every bob of your head. You retracted when you were half way through, making sure your tongue was dragging on the underside of his cock to add to the sensation. A string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick.

"Been wanting this the whole night" you mumbled before letting more of your saliva drool onto his cock, earning a groan from your fiancé

You pumped him several more times with your hand before your mouth took him in again. This time, you took your time swirling your tongue and sucking him in, slowly making sure you were able to stuff as much of him down your throat. 

"Babyy— fuck, k-keep going" He encouraged. His large hand still behind your head, not pushing but also not letting you move away. 

You relaxed your jaw more and willed yourself to breathe through your nose. You moaned when he hit the back of your throat and it set goosebumps all over his body, a strained call of your name reverberating through the walls of your house. Your fingers covered what the rest of your mouth couldn’t and you synced your movements enough to have Mingyu jerking in no time 

"So fucking good. Swallowing me so well" 

Your tongue continued to move back and forth on the underside of his cock while your throat continued to spasm and your hand played with his balls. When you had adjusted well enough, you squeezed his right thigh to indicate you were good to go and he could fuck your face. 

And fuck your face, he did. 

With your mouth open wide and tongue sticking out, your fiancé went to town. His hand now fisted your hair in a ponytail as his cock continuously rammed through your throat, hitting the back every single time. You thanked yourself for wearing your toughest waterproof makeup and setting spray because at the rate Mingyu was going, you were definitely tearing up and drooling. As his movements stuttered, you held tightly to the back of his thighs so you could swallow as much of him as you can.

Mingyu closed his eyes shut at the feeling of your tight throat squeezing his cock, "Shit, baby I- I'm so c-close" 

You moaned one more time, setting him off as his pelvis jerked and you saw his head fall back.with a groan. Thick spurts of his cum coated your throat and it only made you moan against him harder, fully adding onto the stimulation your fiancé was feeling. You swallowed thickly with all he had to give you, milking out Mingyu to the very last drop. 

"FUCK" He exhaled, finally stilling you by the shoulders and slipping out. You gasped for air and wiped your face with the back of your hand, a tantalizing smile staring up at Mingyu

He noted how you swallowed him dry and wiped the tears that stained your cheek.

"My good girl.”

You smiled at him, proud of the work you've done and the praise you got. "Your good girl" you repeated 

"Cmere" he called, helping you up hastily and trapping you against the wall for the second time that night

His hand found its place again behind your head, cushioning it from the wall, while the other was hiking up your long silky dress. 

"Gyu..." You inhaled sharply when his mouth latched onto your collar bone, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Just then you felt his fingers cup your pussy and you both moaned at the feeling 

"Fuck baby, no panties?" 

You shook your head, biting your lower lip to contain the cheeky smile forming 

"Why didn't you tell me? We could've gone home as soon as Jeonghan said 'I Do'… y/n, you're leaking" Your fiance stated the obvious when he brushed your thighs, not even giving you the chance to answer his question

“All you, Gyu”

You saw his pupils blow out at your statement, a cocky smirk written all over his face, two thick fingers immediately slipping into your wet hole “What’s that?”

“S-shit..” you gasped, “it’s you. All cause of you.” you repeated, body jerking at the way his fingers hooked on your insides

“My good girl already so wet just sucking me off huh? Didn’t even need to touch you to have your sweet pussy soaking" 

"oh my go— Oh god" 

If the squelching sounds you could hear weren’t enough an indication to how wet you were, surely the slippery sensation in your pussy and thighs were

"Jump" you heard Mingyu demand and you lifted your feet off in no time. His strong arms supporting you by the thighs, his hands just below your pussy where he definitely felt some of your juices dripping. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you were now perfectly sandwiched between the concrete wall and your human wall. 

"Mingyu" you mewled, forehead dropping to his shoulder when you felt the tip of his cock slip right into your cunt. Your body involuntarily moved higher but Mingyu was quick enough to pull you down, sheathing a few more inches of his length inside you

"Look at you, so wet, you don't even need prep to take me" He praised, pushing another inch further into you as another strangled moan ripped through your throat 

Soon enough, your pussy was contracting against Mingyu's dick, the slight pain present awhile ago was now coming in waves of pleasure for you. 

"S'good thing you're soaking baby 'case you're tight pussy's sucking me in so well" 

Mingyu couldn't stop whispering dirty things in your ear, prodding you enough until you were exerting all your upper body strength to bounce on his cock. A couple times he would completely slip out with how wet you were but he was always quick enough to sheath himself back into your hole before you could fully whine. 

"babyyyy" You moaned, the orgasm suddenly appearing hot in your heels already. "m'close. Please.."

"Please what, m' love?" Mingyu thrusted deeply, hitting your gspot with perfect accuracy. If he hadn't held you so tightly, you were sure you would’ve fallen out 

"Cum... P-please. Please let me cu--" the last word dying in your throat when he fully withdrew his cock only to push it right in with double the force of the last. You were seeing stars and the knot in your stomach was holding on for dear life.

"My good girl wants to cum?" 

"YES!" You cried out, "Please.. was good. I w-was good" 

Mingyu chuckled, thoroughly enjoying how broken you sounded when begging for release. With a low whisper to your ear, he let you have what you asked for "Let go, baby" 

If Mingyu wasn't back to being fully erect awhile ago, then he is now with the way your gummy walls clamped so tightly around him, your orgasm flowing through you as your fiancé moved his body against yours in soft body rolls to help you ride out your orgasm. 

"so good, Gyu. So good.. so good" you chanted with hushed tones

When he felt you calm down, Mingyu planted a kiss on your temple telling you to 'hang tight' when he suddenly lifted you off the wall and made large strides to the stairwell of your home, all while still being inside you. In a moment, he opened your bedroom door, stopping at the light switch for you to flick it on. 

"Y/n" he called you in a tone that sent shivers down your spine. He was now standing at the edge of your king sized bed, eyes staring deep into your soul. "Dress off" he demanded.

It was only then you realised how he had been fully naked since forever ago while you were still definitely covered in silk and cotton. You threw the material on the floor at the same time Mingyu slipped out of you and threw you to the bed, your body lightly bouncing on the mattress sending you into a giggles

"I love you" you declared to the man still standing tall with his arms crossed at the edge of your bed. Your eyes glanced at his cock that stood against his stomach, still glistening with your slick, before raking up his toned abs and then back to his face. 

"I love you baby" Mingyu replied with a smile that boasted his canines

It was romantic really, but only for a few seconds, because when Mingyu saw your cum drip out of your hole, his pointer finger made quick work to scoop it up and plug it back in your hole. The gasp you let out had him flashing you a devilish grin, one you knew all too well.

He lifted your legs slowly, placing them over his shoulders while he maintained eye contact with you, his face inching closer and closer. The smell of your sex just making his dick twitch for the nth time that night. When he deemed himself close enough, he blew cold air on your pussy, enough to make your hips buck up, immediately latching his mouth onto your wet folds. A strangled moan of his name was the first thing he heard, followed by the lewd squelches his mouth made against your cunt. 

"Ooohhh my goooood, Mingyuuuuu" you drawled out when his tongue entered your hole, slurping all the cum he had just caught a few seconds ago

He beamed when he finished swallowing your juices, his face lifting up with a toothy grin, "So sweet. All mine" he declared, before licking a fat stripe from your hole to your clit.

Your moans got louder the more he controlled your writhing in bed, not at all caring that you were about to get wrecked with another orgasm with the way his mouth was making out with your pussy: licking through your folds, sucking and swirling on your clit, pumping his tongue in and out of your hole. He felt your fingers run through his hair before harshly pulling at the strands but it only prodded him more. Taking hold of your legs, he raised them forward so you were now folded in half. A growl rumbled through his chest when he saw just how puffy your pussy got from what he did. 

Mingyu delivered two light spanks on your ass before he dove back in to nip and suck at your skin before soothing it with his tongue. The feeling of his teeth grazing your inner thigh was a welcomed addition to every sensation you were feeling down there. 

"Keep going, Gyu" You panted, "Please" 

Your fiancé didn't need to be told twice, making sure he didn't leave any area of your pussy uncovered. Between the light spanking, sucking and nipping, the skin on your thighs were now blooming a bright shade of pink. 

He knew you were close when your right leg trembled with a jerk.

"Cmon, baby. Be my good girl and cum for me.." 

Your eyes met his briefly before pushing his head down to meet your hip. Your orgasm was right there, you could feel it wanting to fall, to break, but you needed something more you couldn't exactly pin point. You squeezed your breasts with your free hand but to no avail. Your fiance's tongue was slurping from your hole, his nose stimulating your clit, yet it wasn't enough. 

"Gyuuu.... So c-close, pleaaase! N-need mo-oore" 

It's a good thing Mingyu knew your body more than you did, because the moment you felt his thumb tease the tight rim of your ass, you didn't only cum, you squirted.

“FUCK, YES” Mingyu celebrated

A silent scream racked through your chest, knocking all air out of your lungs. If your ears weren't just ringing so loudly, you would've heard Mingyu moan out more curse words before diving into your cunt to lap up everything he could. In just a few seconds, your back was arching again as you fought to push his mouth off you. Your whole body was shaking from that earth shattering orgasm, your pussy feeling like it was on fire as overstimulation crept in. 

Mingyu laced his fingers through your hand but his attempt to ground you was contradicting the words that came out of his mouth. 

"Don’t push me away, baby. Thought you needed more? didn't think my good girl was gonna be a greedy one tonight" 

He was chuckling at how far gone you were, mumbling incoherent words to him. All he could really make out was the occasional call of his name. 

"Baby.." you groaned desperately when you felt him leave light kisses on the knuckles of your hand that he was holding 

"Hmm?"

"I—" you stammered, between the wetness of your sheets and your insides still trembling, you weren't really sure how to string words together

"Does my greedy girl want more?" Mingyu's brow raised, the tone in his voice suggesting that he was not done with you yet. You felt his whole body hover over you, a comforting warmth that made you feel safe and loved despite every single dirty thing he was just doing to you.

"You can give me more, right baby?" Your fiancé asked while one hand pumped his hard cock languidly

"you did say I could have you the whole night… you meant that, right?" 

Mingyu saw you look at him in a daze, nodding eagerly even though he knew his words were still registering in your brain

"Y/n, baby… color." He cleared out, wanting to make sure you really did want this. He could read you well in moments like this, but even if he did, Mingyu always made sure he heard the words from you.

He saw you pause and he was ready to drop everything, ready to scoop you in a cuddle then run you a warm bath while he changed the sheets. He could care less if he didn't get to cum a second time tonight, at least he had his fair share awhile ago. But he waited patiently for your words. 

The silence lingered long enough that he felt like asking the question again, just in case you didn't hear him. 

"G-green, Gyu" you choked out, your throat feeling dry as the desert "But... could I get some water, please?" You asked, your face wincing at how difficult it was to form that one sentence alone.

You were sure it had only been two seconds since you asked, yet your fiancé was already helping you sit up, a jug of water with a straw in hand so you could quench your thirst. Mingyu gently cupped your cheek as you drank, his thumb caressing your skin before planting a soft kiss on your forehead

You smiled gratefully at him after drinking probably half the jug, "Thank you, babe" 

He drank some water too before settling it down on the floor, and then facing you. The crinkles on his eyes were showing and despite having his hair stick out in odd places, he still was the most handsome man you've laid your eyes on.

"I love you, y/n" 

You closed the gap between you, a chaste kiss on his lips despite getting a slight taste of yourself. "I love you, Gyu"

Your hand held the back of his neck, the mischievous glint in your eyes making a reappearance after that necessary water break. Mingyu's devilish grin followed suit too when you uttered your next words, a redeclaration of how this all began. 

"I'm yours the whole night." 

[ladyelissarose]

Hello! I really loved your miguel o'hara works , and i would like to make a request,about headcanons of miguel with a sweet and shy housewife reader ,like ,she is always in home ,cooking ,cleaning and taking care of the house in general ,and always welcomes miguel saying how proud is of him and his job,if youre comfortable you can include a nsfw part but if you dont want to you can just make the fluff part , i hope its okay and have a nice day!

Miguel O’Hara x housewife reader

Warnings: there’s the SFW & NSFW headcannons!! Fluff and alll…

Authors note: Thank you for your sweet words hun!! I wish you the best!! And of course I added down NSFW! I had to- it’s Miguel we’re talking about!! But yes.. I hope you enjoy and I met your expectations:)

•Ever since the start of your relationship, you knew Miguel was the Spider-Man of Nueva York, after he saved your life and kissed your scared tears away. He instantly felt a connection with you and knew he had to have you.

•You were very shy tho, and kept to yourself. Only had trips to the library and to the flower shop- you were basically a home-body.. not a fan of being around or in large crowds.. but Miguel made you feel safe instantly and he took you safely home through a path that was quiet and not around much people and noise.

•Miguel was gentle and didn’t push you to do more than you wanted too, and he was the first person that made you feel comfortable with yourself. That’s why after countless dates and swinging trips on his back, you’re happily married to him and are kept safe in your guys’ home. Where you live with and for him while he keeps the beautiful city safe.

•Everyday he’d come home with a new book or a bouquet of fresh flowers, showering you with things that made you happy, to earn him your gorgeous, shy smile. He’s seen all of you and loved you entirely, yet he was proud on how he made you blush everytime he brought something home, and he lived for kissing that cute pouty smile you had.

•To make up for all the gifts he gave you- tho he said payback wasn’t necessary because you were his love and life. You still worked to give him the best life in your shared home. It was only fair since he sheltered you and your heart, and kept your city as safe as he possibly could.

•During the time he was gone, you clean up your home, doing the laundry and fixing up his backup suits that got ruined on missions. And you found comfort in doing such, as they all smelled like him, no matter how much you washed them.

•And he liked it that way, he stopped asking Lyla for remakes of his suit when he found out your cute hands fixed his suits perfectly. He always kissed you deeply and called you ‘his good girl’ once he had it on and it was good to go. Your hands also got sweet kisses as he praised you for your work.

•The city was messy and dark all the time, even while saving the world it had its dark places that were messy and particularly smelly, burning Miguel’s nose sometimes. But when he came home, he was met with the aroma of your sweet scent, it smelled like home and it was his favorite. And one of the best things, it was clean and orderly.

•Miguel loved seeing things in order and perfectly clean, and he had asked you if you had a maid to get all done perfectly- to which you said no. And he found out it was true (not that he didn’t believe you) when one night he came home earlier than usual, and you were up dusting all the little trinkets on the shelf ever so delicately and efficiently.

•His favorite thing to do was come up to you quietly, wherever you were cleaning, and sweep you up in his arms, chuckling to himself when he heard your squeals as he held you up kissing your neck. Praising you for your time to keep things nice, but scolding you for not being in bed resting well and keeping the bed warm for him. Or if it was during the day he’d ask why you’re not reading or enjoying the afternoon.

•Oh and when you cook? OH- that makes Miguel the happiest (besides you and everything that involves only ‘you’) He’s always starving after a long mission or day at Alchemax. So when he comes home smelling your homemade meals, he’s falling in love all over again. His heart growing twice it’s size at the sight of you singing lowly and stirring the pot... or kneading the dough for the empanadas.

•He tried telling you a few times that it was ok for take out once in a while, not wanting you to cool all the time, worried that you might think he only wants that from you if not. But you were always happy to make something new or his favorite, it made you proud when Miguel wore a smile while he ate, complementing,

“...mi amor, esto es delicioso.” (My love, this is delicious)

•You always let him know how proud of him you were. In actions or soft words, and he’d beam proudly and smile sheepishly. A tight hug and good kiss made it onto his lips everytime you caught him coming in through the door or fire escape. You wouldn’t let a word escape until you both were out of breath from crashing lips, you was always the first to break to say how much you missed him- but he’d chase your lips like a mad man. Whining,

“Dejame besarte!” (Let me kiss you!)

NSFW!

•He occasionally grew hard at the sight of you doing something that screamed ‘wifey material’. The cleaning, cooking, fixing, even resting on the couch reading a book- just everything about you made him crave you instantly at sight. So he’d take you wherever it was you were, of course if you wanted to- but you’ve yet to say no (I mean who would-)

•Over the couch he’d take you from behind, whispering praises while kissing your neck, after he caught you reading your new book while resting over the armrest. Your little dress was so cute and gave him access to have you right away, pounding into your pussy slowly yet roughly. Letting his love for you sink in deeply. He loved marking your neck and caressing your sides as he did so.

•Since you were quiet and shy most of the time, even around him, he’d do the most open things to make you blush and push your buttons of pleasure to make you moan out loud, as you were shy at first. One day you were painting a picture of you and him, a replica of a photo you two took at the library, but soon- Miguel was digging his face in between your breasts kissing them softly while he fucked you against the incomplete painting, legs wrapped around his waist tightly. And you couldn’t care about the painting- you didn’t like it anyways after you messed it up earlier (after getting distracted by eyeing the picture too closely)

•One of Miguel’s favorite things to do was eat you from behind while you were tip-toeing trying to reach the top shelf to clean it. You hold onto it tightly while you felt his tongue swipe over your pussy and dig into you, making you pull his hair closer to you as he drew your high close right away, not relenting in eating you out like he starved for your taste. He lived for you coming undone on his face. And when he stayed home afterwards he’d kissed you to taste yourself on his lips, or when he had to go to work, he wear his mask over his coated lips with your juices- either way he leave himself full of you.

•And the kitchen was a good place- HIS FAVORITE PLACE TO FUCK YOU RAW. He was excited already to see his gorgeous, sweet and quiet house wife cook his delicious meals. But soon you became a moaning, crying mess, begging for him to fuck you harder as you were laying on the kitchen table, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he fucked you deeply. And you knew he was in to fuck you in the kitchen, when he’d come from behind you and lower the heat on the stove, if not turn it off.

•Let’s just say Miguel found a perfect wife in you, you completed him in every way and made him happy. From keeping his home warm and happy, safe and bright, to his heart held, loved and cherished- and beating wildly while he took you under his spell and ride of pleasure.

•And you? Could never get enough of Miguel, something of him was always on you, around you, and in you.. sometimes he’d leave his cum dripping from your pussy while you finished your things while he was gone. It made you blush crazy to know only he could pull that out of you, but he was your home and made you confident around him.. so why not?

[joelmama]

The Fisherman's Wife | Oneshot

no-outbreak!AU, no-Ellie!AU (😞), (basically it's pretty much devoid of anything canon, I'm sorry 😭 I just was desperate to see Joel as a fisherman.)(also don't ask what time-period this is set in i have no clue)

pairing: fisherman!Joel, soft!Joel x afab!fem!Reader content: arranged marriage, angst, fluff, smut. summary: The free-spirited Reader is arranged to marry a divorced Fisherman named Joel Miller. And although she protested this at first, she soon wonders if maybe she could be happy with her new husband. word count: 28.2k (yeesh) warnings: NSFW 18+ - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. mentions of death, age-gap (reader is 27, Joel is 48), smut - oral (f receiving and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, reader is inexperienced (meaning loss of virginity), lovesick Joel, and not beta'd! (if i left anything out please let me know :))

(oh and an obscene use of Y/N bc i write in third person 😩)

Ao3 Link

A/N: Hiii~!!! so usually I write fics for a completely different realm of content. but I haven't been able to continue my most recent fic bc this idea has been stuck in my mind for fricken weeks!!! and it wouldn't get out of my head until i actually wrote it down. TLOU has just been on my brain constantly these days i guess 🙄 (🥰). anyways i thought i'd write it, post it here, and then disappear back into my usual corner of the internet, never to be seen again 😈. i hope you enjoy my story!! ILY <3

Far out from the rainy coast of the Pacific Northwest, sat a small island, always caught in the throes of an aimless sea. It was called the Isle of Ardor. Named after the burning passion of love. It was a peculiar name for the island, as it was always embedded within dark, curling swirls of stormy rain clouds; As well as the sour emotions that came with the storm— provided, of course, by the residents of this Isle. So the island was often left without the feeling of love. Neglected, for lack of any other words. Far from the symbol of love that was known by the world. 

Sure, there was the love that was bestowed by marriage, when a man first sets his sight on his arranged lover dressed in white. Or even love passed between a parent and a child, when a mother first hears the first laugh that tumbles out of her sweet childs lips. Or the fumbling platonic love that creates itself in whispered secrets during sleepovers between friends. But none of it was burning. None of it was passionate. It was a simple form of love. A perfect representation of the simple life that was often led on the Isle of Ardor. Despite its exciting name. 

A more fitting name would perhaps be something more simple. Unembellished. Basic. Ordinary. Sturdy. Something to match the uniform march of the adults in this town, as they traveled along the cobblestone roads in early morning light. Headed towards their humdrum jobs that kept the economy of this island churning like a slow cog in the machine. Meanwhile, the children were taught about this monotonous life in school. Sat rigid in their seats, the stiff collar of their uniform scratching at their necks. Forced to listen, forced to learn that there was only one path for them to take. All signs pointed, roads led and everything suggested that these children— Just as their parents, and their grandparents—  were destined for a life of simplicity. 

It was the exact opposite of what Y/N wanted. She abhorred the idea of simple. She wanted excitement. Yearned for passion. Craved the burn of love that left scars on your heart and bruises on your lips. 

Her wants and desperate needs were proven in the way she grew up. There wasn’t a day that went by where she wouldn’t step out of line. Her wrists would be sore from the snap of her teacher's ruler. Her ears would grow tired of the constant reprimand from her father. And her knees would bleed freely from the times she would escape the horrid monotony of life, out into the nature beyond. But the island was small, and her feet could only take her so far, so she would always easily be caught. She would return home with her sore wrists, tired ears and bloody knees, and sit by her bedroom window, hoping for something greater to take her away. 

It never came.

Eventually, she grew older. She matured, and she learned how to stay in line. For the most part. But as she aged, her tongue grew sharper with wit, and she soon often got in trouble for using words that could rival a sailor’s. By the time she was of marriageable age, no one on the island wanted anything to do with her. This all of course was to the dismay of her father. Who at this point thought that he would never be rid of his rambunctious daughter. 

He loved her with all of his beating heart, of course. But on the Isle of Ardor, all fathers wanted the same thing for their daughters. By the age of eighteen, they wanted their girls to find a satisfactory suitor to take care of them so that the fathers didn't have to worry as they faded into their old age. 

By now, all of Y/N’s classmates were already married. While at the age of twenty-seven due to her wild nature, no one had brought any offers to their household for her hand in marriage. Her father grew weaker and weaker as worry settled into his bones. 

Y/N on the other hand was ecstatic by her lack of prospects. Being a spinster meant she didn’t have to worry about some silly husband, wife or partner she didn’t truly care about. If people thought she was crazy? So be it. It was all worth it for the price of her freedom.

And now as she had no other burden brought on by school or a job, she would oftentimes be found by the raging ocean. Her toes deep in the blackened sand, skin salted by the sea and her hair tangled by the mischievous winds. And this is exactly where she was the minute she found out about the news that would tear her world apart.

Her father had found her a suitor.

The news was brought to her by the young messenger boy who would carry the most recent word of mouth with him on his rusty bicycle. Her father had flagged him down, offering a bill or two to find his daughter and bring her home immediately to meet the man she was destined to marry. 

The poor boy. He didn’t deserve to be met with the rage of a mad woman, but that was what he stumbled across when the news of her arranged marriage escaped from between his lips. At the sight, he suddenly understood why she was considered the town spinster. She was angered and chaotic, screaming into the wind when his words finally registered. She looked like a feral animal, the way she gnashed her teeth, yelling about the unfairness of it all. 

Him being no older than ten years old, couldn’t really understand why she was so upset about this news. She mumbled a few things— Something about her loss of freedom and self expression. But it was all very strange. He was used to the usual reaction from young women whenever they heard the news of their engagement. They were always… ecstatic. Squealing like pigs as they clutched onto their nearest friend, family member or even just a stranger. Or if they were unhappy with the prospect of marriage— just as Y/N was now— they were always able to hold their tongue until they were alone. 

Her reaction was all just very… strange. Very different. 

And different, it was. She now sat, stewing in her anger, refusing to even spare a glance towards her future husband.

A celebratory dinner, made carefully and happily by her aunt, sat on the wooden table stretched between them. It was all the distance she needed to ignore the man she was meant to be betrothed to. But even though she could avert her gaze, there was no getting past listening in on the conversation that flitted between this man and her family members.

She had learned that he lived on the other side of the island. So now it made sense that she didn’t recognize his surname when the messenger boy first told it to her. She barely got to know the names of her neighbors, let alone those on the windward side.

He was known as Joel Miller, only learning his first name when her father greeted him at the beginning of the evening, with a sturdy handshake at their front door, the casual name falling from his tongue as they exchanged niceties. As she stood behind her father’s shoulder, she refused to look at him even then, her eyes steady on the toes of her boots. 

Now at the table, the topic of his occupation also arose during the conversation. He spoke of his adventures out at sea, and what he encountered in his life as a fisherman. 

Typical. A fisherman. The most sought out job on this island as they were mainly considered as gods since they provided the island with prosperous amounts of food and good fortune. The people that held the title of ‘fishermen’ were always the most sought after when it came to marriage. Y/N wondered how her father was able to find a man like that for her. 

But as the dinner went on, the secret was soon revealed. Because she soon learned that his wife had left him. Many years ago, late in the night as a stowaway on a cargo ship headed towards the mainland. The only thing worse than a spinster was a man whose wife had left him. And now the puzzle pieces were fitting together. 

They were a match made in heaven. The crazy woman and the unwanted man. 

Y/N felt nothing but sympathy for his first wife. Surely, she was just the same as she. The only reason a woman would leave her partner was if she yearned for freedom beyond the tassels of marriage. Maybe eventually, Y/N would make the score two for two. Leave him behind just as his first wife did. The thought brought an overwhelming onslaught of anticipation that burned within the girl's core. 

But she had to be patient. She couldn’t just leave him when all eyes were narrowed in on their engagement. The whispers on the street all revolved around her, and how she was finally able to snag a man after all these years. Even more speculation was offered when they found out who the man was. Apparently these two were a circus act around the Isle of Ardor. A horrific accident that none of the residents could tear their eyes from.

Maybe that’s why their wedding was so crowded. 

A few weeks had past, and she had yet to grant the man with her gaze. All she knew of his looks was the quick glimpse of silver she saw scattered amongst the brown in his hair, and the hard set of his jawline, clenched in an anger that seemed to always be present. So as she walked down the aisle, her fingers clenched around a wilting bouquet of daisies, she kept her eyes pointed towards the horizon that lingered in the distance.

Traditional Ardorian weddings were always held in the same place. On the cliffside, hanging over the tempestuous sea that always danced near the shores of the Isle. The same clergyman, performed the same ceremony, spoke the same gentle words every single time. She has been to countless versions of this very same wedding throughout the duration of her life. Though, she never thought that it would be her who was forced to stand under the wedding arch. Especially in her late-mothers wedding gown, in front of the entirety of the small town that sat on the coast of Ardor. 

The most surprising part of it all was when she exchanged her ‘I do’s’ effortlessly and without any complaint. 

Maybe that was what also surprised most of the wedding-goers, as they began to whisper to one another. The crowd seemed disappointed, almost as if they expected a spectacle from the woman they deemed a recluse. From the rumors they’ve already heard through the grapevine, maybe they were expecting her to grow reckless with abandon. To stomp her feet and scream out to the gods. So when they were met with this quiet, timid version of the woman, who spoke her vows with no contradiction, they all stood and left the wedding. Completely missing out on the part when the man was told to kiss his bride. Which he didn’t even do. 

A very strange wedding indeed. 

It all came to a head when the man called Joel finally brought his new wife towards the threshold of their (used) marital home. It was a few hours after the ceremony, and usually this part of the evening was paired with bright, eager smiles as newly-weds were finally allowed to consummate their love. However, as we already know with this couple, the night went very differently than the norm that is usually presented. 

As soon as he had unlocked the door for his established home, the woman stormed through the front entrance, her eyes darting around each corner as she took in each aspect of her new home. Trying to find something to dislike. But it was an agreeable home. Comfortable and cluttered with trinkets that must’ve meant a great deal to the man. It was… interesting. So after finding nothing she could truly complain about, and be the disastrous wife she planned to be, she whipped towards him in an unexpected flurry, her arms folding across her chest. 

Her eyes finally landed on him for the very first time. And she stilled. 

He was older. Much older. But she already knew that from the information she learned from her father. What she didn’t know was how good age looked on the man. He was handsome... And so much larger than she had thought. His shoulders were wide, emphasized as he stood in the doorway. His hands looked strong and calloused, obviously capable of working against the aggression brought forth by an unforgiving sea. 

Then there were the features she had only caught glimpses of, but yet she was overly familiar with— due to the flashes of her memory that blared across the dark of her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. His brown curls were unruly across his forehead, despite his attempt to manage them with gel, most likely trying to look put together for the wedding. They were painted with faint hues of gray, evidence of the twenty-some years he had against her. 

Her eyes tugged towards his familiar jawline. Strong— just as she remembered. But it wasn’t clenched in anger, or anything else of the sorts. His features were molded in a form that looked to be like curiosity. Maybe this was the first real look he had of her as well…

That’s when she met the deep brown irises of his eyes. The sight of which was a drastic contrast of anything else she had known of him. They were almost… warm and forgiving, bordered by the faint outline of crows feet, formed over the years. His gaze was soft in the way he considered her features and dragged over the curves of her body. So different from the harsh lines of the rest of his body.

She held her arms tighter against her form. Feeling vulnerable under his stare.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting to happen…” Y/N finally spoke the first words she ever said to the man who was considered to be her husband, “But I can assure you that it’s not what you’re thinking.”

The man simply stared at her, his eyebrows raising at her words. She took a step back as he took a step inside, but felt foolish as he only did so to turn around and shut the front door behind him. The familiar sea breeze now lost to them. 

When he turned back around, he spoke the first words he ever said to the woman who was considered to be his wife. 

“I wasn’t expectin’ anything.” He replied, his sentence simple and his accent faded.

She had heard his voice before. When he was speaking to her father and reciting his vows. But now that it was directed towards her, it finally dawned on her how deep it was. How it rumbled through his chest in such a way that it settled deep within Y/N’s bones.

She was perturbed by the sensation. So much so that her next argument was lost on her tongue.

“Follow me.” He said, in the absence of her words.

Since there wasn’t much left to do, she did just that. The small house shifted under the weight of their footfalls as they ascended up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s eyes were trained on the sight of his broad back, taking up so much space as he ventured through the hallways of this two-story home. 

Her eyes were soon torn away from his form as she took in the decor of the rest of his— their house. It matched what she saw downstairs. Everything was nautical themed, something common within the homes that littered this island. But the way this house was decorated was different. Instead of the manufactured ocean aesthetic that Y/N was used to, everything about this house was… natural. The way she felt in this house felt exactly how she felt on the beaches that ringed around this tiny island. She never thought she’d ever meet anyone who was able to capture the essence of the natural world so effortlessly. She began to soften, similar to what she felt when she saw that look in his brown eyes.

She squared her shoulders against the thought, forcing her resolve back to the forefront of her mind. This was the last place she wanted to be. She had to remind herself of that. 

“This is your room.” Joel muttered in that deep voice of his, stopping at a door sat at the end of the hall. His large hand twisting the golden doorknob, it swung open as he pushed against the wood. 

“My room?” Y/N questioned, as she stood on her tiptoes, staring into the confines that were now revealed from over Joel’s shoulder. She took in the sight of a wrought-iron bed, a vanity and a wardrobe built out of dark-stained wood. Furniture to call her own for the first time. 

“Your’s.” He nodded in confirmation. And then he stepped aside, letting her venture further into the room. She breathed in the fresh air that was granted by the windows that still stood open against either wall, crickets calling through the crevices, seeping in from the dark of the night. 

She ran a hand over the handmade quilt that covered the mattress, cool against her palm, unslept in for months— maybe years. 

The floorboards squeaked under her feet as she turned quickly towards where Joel was standing. But the doorway was empty. Her words of gratitude fell flat against the air now that there was no one to direct them to. 

He must’ve snuck off as she was admiring the room, assuming she wanted to be left alone. Which she did. But no one had ever respected her privacy before. She definitely wasn’t expecting the courtesy from the man she was forced to marry. 

A weird feeling wormed its way into Y/N’s heart, one she had never felt before. She chose to ignore it as she plopped onto the mattress, springs squeaking under her weight, staring at the vacant space where Joel once stood.

~

Weeks passed by, and neither one of the newlyweds tried to make any contact with one another as they resided in their separate bedrooms.

Since Y/N was now destined to be a doting housewife, no one had any expectations for her beyond the household she currently lived in. And since Joel was avoiding her just as much as she was him, it was easy to dismiss his heavy footfalls that rang out against the house in the early hours of the morning. All she had to do was wait until they faded off the steps of the front porch, and then she was free to roam the house that was now half hers. 

Though after her exploring was finished, most of her days were spent in the garden, overgrown from lack of maintenance, but Y/N happened to like it that way. She was elated to find it, as she stood on the precipice of the backyard that very first morning. And now Y/N could be found curled on the antiquated porch swing that sat among the weeds, a book cradled in her lap, stolen from the office she also discovered on her second day of living with her new husband. 

However, as she relaxed in the garden, sun shining over every inch of her exposed skin, guilt would soon riddle her bones. It was another feeling she wasn’t used to. But now that she was married and now that she knew that Joel wasn’t the horrible intrusive husband she thought he would be, she decided he deserved to come home to a warm meal. So eventually— after a few of her days spent basking in the sun, the guilt becoming too much— she would one day venture to the market nearest their marital home and pick up ingredients to make the man some dinner after his long day at the docks.

She would never actually eat with him, of course— only leaving the homemade food in a ceramic pot stationed in the middle of the kitchen table. But she hoped her gesture proved enough that she wasn’t exactly angered by his newfound presence in her life. 

Despite the fact that she still planned on her escape.

It was obvious that Joel wasn’t a bad husband. And of course, that brought pause to the woman. She wondered what exactly it was that drove his first wife to leave him when he wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought. But the mystery still couldn’t counter with the fact that Y/N was desperate for her freedom, and desperate for a love that would set her heart on fire. Surely she couldn’t find that sort of thing on this tiny insignificant island. She had to escape. Didn’t she?

The topic stayed constant on her mind as she perused the books in Joel’s tiny library (library being a generous term, it was actually just one shelf tucked in the corner of his office). One day, in the living room, she even stumbled upon a great big atlas that Joel had left behind, turned open on a page that showcased an image of the world. All the little squiggles and lines that made up the map of their great big earth, her soulmate must have resided within one of those faraway places. He couldn’t have been so close, on the tiny dot that represented the Isle of Ardor, it seemed impossible.

Now lost in thought about chances and percentages, the young woman paid no mind to the time that passed as she flipped through the large pages of the atlas. The sun was dipping low beneath the horizon, painting the skies with pinks, and oranges. She had yet to even make dinner when Joel had walked through the front door.

She stood quickly from her spot on the couch. As a habit, her tongue fumbled through the words that would leave her mouth whenever her father would return from work. 

“Welcome home.”

Joel paused in the doorway. His brows furrowed in confusion since by this time the woman was usually found locked in her bedroom. And typically, when one welcomes you home, you’re supposed to reply with some form of gratitude, at least this was custom to the Isle of Ardor. But Joel was at a loss for words. To have his new wife, ready and expectant of him was unfamiliar. Especially since she had granted no interest in him for the past few weeks.

“I forgot to make dinner.” She told him, seemingly desperate to fill the silence. Her tone was soft with apprehension, she looked like a timid little rabbit. “I’m sorry.”

Taking in her words, and the sight of her— chest heaving as she stood by the couch, almost as if she were caught in the act of something despicable— Joel soon realized that this was all an accident. He wasn’t meant to find her like this. She had only gotten lost within whatever activity she was currently indulging herself in. 

He caught sight of the atlas he left on the couch late last night. It was there since he was currently making plans for his upcoming fishing trip, but it was quickly forgotten once the threat of sleep had forced him to make his way back towards his bedroom. Was that what she was looking at? His lips parted with even more realization, if that was the case. He had a sneaking suspicion why she would be interested in a book like that. But he wasn’t about to ask her any incriminating questions.

“That’s alright.” He breathed, shutting the door behind him and foregoing any accusations he could potentially throw her way. “I can make something.”

“No, please.” She begged, as if guilt forced her back into the role of a doting wife. “You’ve had a long day. Allow me.”

She moved through the small living room of the house in long strides, headed towards the kitchen. She was determined to be the good wife she promised to be when she made her vows. Even if it was a lie at the time. Even if it still was as she planned for her escape.

As she brushed past Joel, her wrist was suddenly encased in a pool of unexpected warmth. His calloused fingers were wrapped firmly against her skin. In the month that they had been married, this was the first time he had ever touched her. Her heart lodged itself in her throat. Her gaze shifted so that she was staring wide-eyed up at her husband.

“Let me help you.” He murmured, his own eyes pleading her for something she was unsure of. 

“Okay.” She whispered, nodding her head slightly, since there was nothing else she could do.

Now here they were, standing in their humble kitchen, stove hot and burning as they both stood over the swirling pot of spices, vegetables and fish. This form of intimacy was unfamiliar to them. It was the closest they’ve been in weeks, and it felt far more vulnerable than it did when they stood across the aisle as they spoke their vows. Joel’s hand was gripped harshly against the wooden spoon as he stirred the contents of their stew. Y/N’s fingers were latched onto the salt shaker, her eyes trained on the little grain of bitter crystal that was lodged in one of the holes. 

“Here.” Joel practically whispered, holding up the spoon for his wife to taste. She glanced up at him through her lashes, hesitantly, before slowly leaning forward.

Her supple lips formed around the wood as she slurped at its contents. Joel shivered at the sight. He knew that his new wife was pretty, but seeing as she took his requests so willingly, was a sight to behold. Her lips seemed so plush, and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blew cold air across his offered taste, almost had him down on his knees. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly against his dry throat, mind littered with filthy innuendos.

“How’s it taste?” He asked, his voice strained, forcing away the provocative thoughts that forged to the front of his mind.

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she held the flavor on her tongue. But soon a small grin flickered across her features. Joel’s stomach dipped at the sight. A feeling he hadn’t felt in years— maybe decades... maybe ever.

“It’s good.” She replied, wrapping her own smaller fingers around Joel’s hand as she brought the spoon up for a second taste. The touch of her hand was a shock, to say the least. It was only their second instance of skin contact and yet it was so much different than before. Only because it was her that was touching him. Willingly— no, purposefully. Embarrassingly enough, the surprise of it all was somehow too much for the older man. The spoon slipped from his grasp, clattering against the tile, splashing stew across the lower half of the surrounding cabinets, as well as the long hem of Y/N’s skirt. Joel took a large step back, the heat of shame licking up his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Sorry— I— Sorry.” He stammered, finishing his words somewhat lamely. He felt like a shy little school boy, he couldn’t even meet her gaze. It was humiliating. 

That was until he heard the sound of her laughter. Soft and tinkling, with no hint of malice. She wasn’t laughing at him, she wasn’t even laughing with him. It was more like she was laughing at the entire situation, or maybe at nothing in particular. He finally braved a glance up at her, to see those supple lips curled into a bright smile. His heart lurched at the sight.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge his fumbling apology, instead she shook her head slightly, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, a smile still apparent on her face as she got to her knees and began to clean up the mess. She didn’t even worry about the splotches of blooming red that was scattered across the white fabric of her pretty skirt. She let it stain. Lasting proof of the very first dinner they shared as man and wife.

He served it up in heaping spoonfuls. Steam lazily swirling up from the hot meal, confined in ceramic bowls that Joel had pulled from the cabinets. After Y/N’s laughter had faded from the air, the only sound that graced their ears was that of spoons scraping against the stoneware as they savored their last bites.

No words were spoken as they sat at the kitchen table. And the woman couldn’t decide if it was awkward or not. She was never one to be deterred by the presence of silence, but she was curious if the man who now sat across from her was.

Not that he was a man of many words. He was silent in the very way he lived. His actions were always careful and well thought out. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t heard of him before their betrothal. You don’t turn the cogs of the rumor mill if you keep to yourself. Which is what Joel seemed to do. 

So maybe he liked the silence. Y/N decided she did as well. 

Though it was finally broken when they stood at the kitchen sink, Joel was washing the dishes while Y/N dried— All serenaded by the sound of running water and clanking utensils. That was all it was until his words filtered in through the white noise.

“I’m leavin’ tomorrow.” He told her, eyes trained on the tiny soap bubbles attaching themselves to the skin of his hands. They were iridescent in their color. The distraction of it left the furrow between Y/N’s brows unknown. She wondered where on earth he could possibly be going. But the question was soon answered as he continued.

“It’s the first fishin’ trip of the season. Gonna be gone for a week or two.” He explained. Her mouth formed around a silent ‘ah’ as understanding dawned on her.

Fishing expeditions were always a big spectacle in this little town. Caught in glimpses on her way to school, Y/N always observed the teary-eyed farewells passed between the fishermen and their families. Hands up in the air in enthusiastic waves of goodbye as the ship drew further out to sea, becoming a small insignificant dot and then turning into nothing against the horizon. 

She liked the return days far better. They always seemed much happier when loving arms wrapped around trembling shoulders, a warm embrace to signify how grateful the fishermen were to be brought home safe and unharmed. It was one of the few times this island lived up to its name. 

And now the woman was left wondering if Joel expected her to become one of the teary-eyed family members waiting down by the docks. 

“What time are you leaving?” She asked, carefully setting down the bowl that resided in her hands, it clinked against the wooden countertop.

“Early.” He replied, his large fingers hooking around the faucet lever, shutting off the constant stream of water. In its absence, the silence was louder and the same could be said of that deep voice of his. “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to wake you when I leave.”

So now the question was answered. He didn’t expect anything from her. Just like he said that very first night. It was still a foreign concept for her. She wasn’t sure if she truly believed it. 

Though the belief finally found her when she woke up late the next morning, the sun deep in the sky, shining bright over her bed and warming her skin. She laid there for a minute, staring up at the ceiling as she considered the quiet state of the house. It was silent now more than ever. Left without the sound of Joel’s familiar footsteps as well as a final goodbye.

~

The time spent alone in the little house was surprisingly dreary. 

At first— once the realization that she had the house to herself settled in, the woman was ecstatic. She had never been left to her own devices before. Usually she would have to cheat her way out of the ever-present company of her family, just for five minutes of precious solitude. Now she had hours of it— days of it. It was exhilarating. It was freeing. It was… lonely.

And maybe just a little bit scary, as she curled under her sheets at night, unable to explain away the creaks that filtered in from under her door now that Joel was gone. 

Joel.

The absence of him presented Y/N with the unexpected discovery that he was a form of comfort that surrounded the walls of this house. Almost as if he were the protector of this hearth. And now that he was gone, the little noises she heard at night shifted into dark threatening creatures within the confines of Y/N’s overactive imagination.  

She cursed herself for her sudden lack of backbone. 

However, the daytime was somehow worse. Because at least during the night, her fear would soon subside once the calming tendrils of sleep coaxed Y/N back into her dreams. But during the day, when she was sitting on that squeaky porch swing, boredom would be the next thing to burden her. And there was nothing she could do to alleviate herself from it. 

There were only so many books in Joel’s collection. Only so many rooms that were left to explore (excluding the master bedroom of course). And only so many activities that she could think to do to distract herself. So as she sat there aimlessly, swinging back and forth under a late afternoon sun, it dawned on her that she was most entertained when navigating this new delicate life that she shared with Joel.

Which eventually brought her to the greater realization that it wasn’t fear or boredom that caused the ache that burned low in her stomach. No, it was the fact of the matter that she had simply missed Joel. One might describe that ache as yearning. But Y/N would definitely not be the one to do so. So she ignored the feeling.

She ignored it until it was replaced with the growing buzz of anticipation when the day of Joel’s return finally arrived. 

Excited whispers were passed from mouth to ear as everyone spoke about the ship's return. Y/N had caught a conversation while perusing the pitted-fruits at the market, relaying the information that the boat was set to dock later that evening. And as she quickly returned the contents that resided in her basket— replacing it with enough ingredients for a meal made for two rather than one— Y/N wondered if she was perhaps sharing in the excitement that took over the small island.

Which would be very odd, for she never once felt united with her fellow townspeople, and she could hardly believe that she was excited to see the man she was forced to marry. Though the oddest thing was, (and this was still unbeknownst to the young woman herself) was that she hadn’t thought of her underlying desire to escape, whatsoever. Not even once while she was left alone for the past two weeks, which by all means would have been the perfect time to plan her getaway. But the notion was completely lost to her mind as she hurriedly made her way back home so that she could start on dinner.

It was a sight to behold.

Later that evening, as Joel stood in the entranceway, limbs overtired from his harsh venture out to sea, he thought he was hallucinating. The last thing he expected when he walked through that door was to be met with the image of his wife, looking oh-so pretty in a light blue dress, waiting eagerly by a table full of food. The whole scene of it was washed in a golden light from candles set across the room. It was set to look like a dream. Was he dreaming?

He had thought their dinner the night before he left would be the last one. In fact, he had thought that would be the last time he'd ever see her. 

Joel wasn’t an oblivious man. He knew how she felt about this whole arrangement. It was obvious in the way she would avoid looking at him when they had first met. And even if he couldn’t see the hatred she harbored for him within her irises, the woman wore her heart on her sleeve. He could see her indignation in the way she huffed around the house and stomped her way into the garden. Which was all made much more confusing when she started leaving him hot meals after his work was finished by the dock. He didn’t anticipate such a kind gesture from her.

She was a mystery. But he supposed she leaned more towards the side of completely hating his guts as she was still bent on avoiding him those first couple of weeks into their marriage.

Not that he could blame the woman. He only said yes to her father’s proposition because the man looked so desperate. He was practically down on his knees. And Joel couldn’t say he wasn’t enticed by the idea of not having to return to an empty home any longer. 

But Joel wasn’t attached to the idea of their marriage. 

So if she wanted to avoid him, he would grant her the space she needed. If she wanted to huff at him in anger whenever their paths did cross, he would take the onslaught. And if she wanted to escape into the night, never to be heard from again, who was he to try and stop her?

In the meantime, he would enjoy the meals she left for him.

Then came the night when she decided to share it with him. Sure, it was an accident. And the entire encounter was fumbling and awkward. But it sparked a small bout of warmth deep within his chest. 

He supposed that feeling was hope. Or at least that was the conclusion he came to as he was rocked to sleep by the ebbing waves underneath his ship. He had felt hope before, it’s been a long time, but he knew what it was. That’s all it could ever be. But what was he hoping for?

Hope that this could be something more than a marriage certificate? Hope that she would stick around, at least for a few more weeks? Hope that he would see her face amongst the crowd as their ship pulled back into the dock?

When he didn’t see her, the warmth was lost to him. And in its absence that’s when he knew that’s exactly what it was. Without that flame of hope, he was now shrouded in darkness just like he knew his house would be when he returned under the setting sun.

So he was not expecting this. Not at all. 

“You’re here.” He said, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. A little line appeared between her two brows as confusion riddled her features.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, head tilting with the question.

“I don’t know. I just… thought that maybe you’d be gone.” He replied, shaking his own head slightly as he admitted his suspicion out loud.

Busted. 

Y/N’s shoulders tensed as the words hung in the air between them. She should have known that he’d catch on to her plans, she wasn’t usually the type to be subtle with her grievances. But there was a twinge in her stomach at his admittance. The one thing he expected of her was exactly the one thing she wanted. And he would’ve let it happen. The hidden honesty in his words coerced the same thing from her own lips.

“I thought the same thing.” She confessed, a small bashful smile forming on her lips. The corners of Joel's mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. It was gone within seconds. But the gleam of it still shone within the depths of his brown irises.

Then he offered her a small understanding nod. And that was all that was needed. The flame of hope flickered on.

They both took their seats and ate the homemade dinner in comfortable silence.

~

The same fragile routine had now taken place every night since then. As soon as Joel would return home from the docks, he would be greeted by the sight of Y/N chopping up the chosen vegetable for that night. If he came home early enough, there would still be certain tasks that needed to be finished, and she never complained when he would step in beside her with freshly washed hands— the sleeves of his flannel rolled further up his forearms— ready to help. 

He liked those times the most. There was something serene in the way they moved around the kitchen together, as if they were living proof of perfect harmony. So most days, Joel would finish the menial tasks at work as quickly as he possibly could to return home before she finished cooking. He was greedy for more of these interactions to hold under his belt. And he would always be slightly disappointed whenever he found the table already set. Though that grievance wouldn’t last long as he was soon greeted by Y/N’s smile, that seemed to be getting brighter with each passing day. 

Unfortunately for Y/N, she was not granted with the same reassurance. 

As it turns out, Joel was a brick wall of a man, which was a fact he was completely unaware of. So his expressions of contentedness were lost on the woman. She wasn’t observant enough to notice how he would return home from work earlier and earlier each day. Or to catch on to the way his eyes would linger on her while they silently ate their dinner. 

What she did notice was how he never smiled. It was as if he never learned how to. Maybe he had been a sad little baby from the moment he was born. Or perhaps he did know how to smile, and he just never had a reason to. Not even now. Not even with her. 

Which, to be honest, was a punch in the gut for the young woman, since she had been finding so much joy during the times they shared together. 

She tried to be rational, because Joel had always been a very unemotional man. But Y/N’s brain always kicked into overdrive whenever she was left alone with her thoughts, and it always boiled down to the conclusion that perhaps Joel just didn’t like her very much. 

Oh, how the tables have turned. One minute she detested the man she was betrothed to and in the next she lapped up any attention he had gifted her like a small pathetic puppy. She was desperate to know more about the man. What was it that made him smile? Who was he? What were his interests? What was he like as a child?

And why on earth would his first wife ever leave him?

She had found out the answer to that— as well as caught her first glimpse of the surprising range of his emotions— all in the same night. 

There was a storm that evening. Dark and unrelenting as the onslaught of rain pounded against the roof of their quaint little house. Big bolts of lighting hung low in the sky, illuminating the world in small fractions of time. The thunder rolling deep on its heel. 

Joel was hours late. The dinner that sat on the table was ice cold. Though that fact was unnoticed by the woman, as she paced the distance of the kitchen, her bones wracked with worry. This was the perfect example of how her mind kicked into overdrive in times of distress. She assumed the worst. 

She imagined Joel dead, left unbreathing, body lost under treacherous waves. 

Panic quickened the beat of her heart. Any efforts she made to calm herself fell flat. Reason and rationality were lost to her completely. All she could do was to keep moving her feet. 

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Until her feet took her further. Soft footsteps rang out against the floor of the living room and then up the stairs. They paced the length of the hallway a few times until the woman found herself stationed in front of the door to the master bedroom.

Her hand had somehow found itself gripped around the cool metal of the doorknob. 

When she twisted it, the door swung open with ease. 

It was easy for Y/N to dismiss her worries when it was replaced by a burning curiosity. She stood at the precipice of his bedroom, eyes flickering over every surface. 

There was a large bed that sat in the middle of the room, left untidy by the man who stumbled out of it early that morning. The image of his large form tangled in the sheets flickered to the front of her mind, before she forced herself to focus on the next part of the room.

There was a bay window, looking out over the back garden. The bench underneath it was adorned with countless throw pillows, a detail that must have been added by his previous wife. Joel didn’t seem to be the type to appreciate that type of decor. A weird surge of jealousy was added to the other emotions she was already riddled with that evening. It burned bright behind her sternum. 

But then her gaze roamed over the bookshelf that towered over the rest of the room. It resided next to a door, but what could potentially be hidden behind it wasn’t what had her feet moving deeper into the room. (Since it was most likely a bathroom, anyways.)

It was a picture.

Sat on one of the middle shelves of the bookshelf. It was framed in an intricate engraved pattern of gold-painted wood, a happy memory captured in black and white. 

Frozen in time was the image of a young girl— most likely not even reaching double digits in her age. Her smile was bright and somewhat stubborn as she grinned up at her from the frame. She had dark skin and soft eyes that reminded the woman of Joel. Her hair framed her face in disorderly curls, tousled by the seabreeze. Y/N smiled softly at the wild look that sparked in the girl's irises, as if ready for any adventure that would be thrown her way. She ran a finger over the smooth glass, like she could caress the girl's face in her own hands.

“What are you doing?”

It wasn’t the words themselves that caused the woman to drop the picture, but rather the rage that was intertwined within them. Her eyes snapped up to find Joel standing in the door, backlit from the light in the hallway. His brown hair was matted against the skin of his forehead, soaked by the heavy rain. The rest of it dripped off of his clothes as they clung to his skin, creating a puddle around his boot-clad feet. 

The glass of the frame shattered once it hit the floor. 

“Who told you, you could come in here?” He seethed, reaching her in just a few long strides. She cowered against the bookshelf in his advancement but the collision never came. He bent towards the ground, large hands shifting through the broken glass.

“I-I’m sorry.” Y/N stammered, dropping down to help him. He pushed her hands away.

“Don’t.” He snapped. 

“Why would you do this?” He then added, his words were harsh. He looked up at her, his eyes were dark with his wrath. A small pathetic sound squeaked out of her throat, she shook her head, unable to find the words.

And then the next thing she knew, she was running. Was it the anger that caused her to run? Or perhaps her own embarrassment. She didn’t know. But the sudden invasion of his unconventional display of emotion had become all too much. The same feet that carried her towards the master bedroom brought her out into the garden.

Y/N barely realized where she was until she registered the harsh rain that bombarded her skin, her hair and clothes instantly soaked as she ventured out among the overgrown weeds. Her legs didn’t stop until her palms wrapped around the familiar wood of the porch swing she spent so much of her time with. Her shoulders shook with shame, cursing herself inwardly for her intrusiveness. 

And then… Somehow, through the howling wind, Y/N had heard her name. 

She whipped her head towards the house to see that Joel had followed her. He charged through the storm, through the vegetation that whipped wildly in the wind, until he reached her. She expected more of his anger.

Instead she was met with two large hands cupping her cheeks.

“Are you hurt?” He asked over the raging of the storm, before she could make any questions of her own.

“I— what?” She faltered, her hands instinctively moving up to caress the skin of his wrists.

“Are you alright?” He repeated himself with new words, his brown eyes flickering over each feature of her face, as if he was making sure each part of her was still there. 

“It’s only rain. Of course I’m alright.” She answered, a bit impatiently. Did he really think so little of her and her competence?

“You certain?” He asked, and that’s when Y/N took notice of the panic that resided in his brown irises. His breathing was dissonant and in a sense, frightened. This was something else entirely.

“Joel.” She said her tone shifted drastically from annoyance to something much softer. But his movements were still frantic as he searched her for any injuries.

“Joel!” She said again, louder this time, hoping to gain his attention. When she didn’t, Y/N tightened her grip around the wrist of his right hand, and shifted it towards her beating heart. She hoped he could feel the proof of her life that thrummed against the skin of her chest. 

The evidence of her heartbeat calmed Joel down, his breathing evened out.

“I’m fine.” She murmured, tilting her chin to kiss the palm of his left hand. She was unsure of what brought her to do it, but it seemed to help as Joel then pulled her into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders. He sighed once he felt her weight against him.

“I’m alright.” She reiterated into his soaked flannel. His arms wound tighter around her.

And then they were back inside. To her objection, he had made her take a shower, to extinguish any chill that the rain might have instilled in her bones. She almost got away with not taking one until her chattering teeth proved her otherwise. He had given her such a demanding look that she had no other choice but to do as he said. 

So once she was showered and dressed in warm pajamas, (and once he did the same). They were now sitting in the living room. Her knees were curled up to her chest as she sat on the couch, Joel’s feet were solid against the patterned rug that sat beneath them, in an armchair angled directly in front of her. Their usual silence had found them again. Was it comfortable or not? Y/N had yet to find out. Joel broke it before she could.

“I’m sorry.” He told her, his cheeks pink with shame and his eyes averted to the ground. She shook her head in defiance to his apology, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

“No, it was my—” She tried to counter. But he pursed his lips, causing her to promptly keep her mouth shut.

“I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you like that.” He said after a brief pause.

“It was well deserved.” Y/N admitted, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “I shouldn’t have entered your room.”

Joel shook his head the same way she did, only slightly, but Y/N caught it.

“It was about time, anyways.” He commented. She resisted the urge to pry for more, cause she knew that eventually he would indulge in her curiosities. And he did.

“She was my daughter.” He murmured, knuckles white from his grip on the arms of the plush leather chair he was sitting upon.

“The girl. In the picture.” Joel clarified when he was met with her silence. But Y/N already knew that. Her silence to his explanation was due to the word he used. Was.

She repeated it out loud, in the form of a question. 

A sigh escaped Joel's lips, he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He still wouldn’t meet Y/N’s gaze.

“Do you remember that storm twelve years ago?” Joel questioned, his palm running over his forehead as he prepared himself to tell this story. Y/N responded with a soft ‘yes.’ It was a horrible, outrageous storm that caused so much damage to their little town. So much loss and heartache that hung over the island, even to this day. She was fifteen years old. The fear of it all was still present in her memories.

“Well, my daughter… Sarah. She…” His voice cracked, he dragged in a shuddering breath. “Somehow she got outside. Debris from the old farmhouse across the street was picked up by the wind. Pierced right through her—” 

A sharp sob interrupted his sentence. Y/N wasted no time. She pushed up from her spot on the couch and was on her knees, sitting in front of him in a moment's notice. Her hands were splayed across his own thick thighs, she squeezed her digits around the muscles in reassurance. He didn’t need to say anything more. The picture was painted.

“She was nine years old.” Joel whispered into the hand that was still hiding his features, finding the courage to speak more about it once he felt her touch through the fabric of his pajama pants. “Nine years old, and she lost her life.”

And now everything was clear. It made sense why he was so scared for her life out there in the garden. He had experienced a loss like that before. A cruel twist of fate that took the life of his daughter. Right in his front yard.

“I wish every day that it was me instead of her.” He admitted, more sobs wracking through his body, large shoulders shaking.

It was peculiar to see him like this. Usually he was such a vision of strength, but now that these emotions were presented to Y/N, everything made so much more sense. He was hiding himself. Scared of more loss, if he opened his heart up to anyone else. This was only more confirmed as he continued.

“My wife— My first wife, she couldn't handle the loss of our daughter.” Joel relayed, “I don’t think she was happy with me. Not until Sarah was born. And once she was gone… She didn’t have a reason to stay…”

His words died in the air after that. But yet again there was no need to continue. Y/N understood. And all she could do was shift her hands so that her arms were now wrapped around his neck. She pulled Joel in as close as she could, her waist now fitted between his thighs. He clutched onto her in return, fingers gripping into her nightgown. His head resting in the crook of her neck, mouth pressed against the tendon. 

“I won’t leave you.” Y/N whispered into his hair, still damp from the recent shower. 

She wasn’t exactly sure what brought her to say those words, but once they were hanging in the air she knew them to be true. And she knew he did too once she felt his lips form into a distinguishable kiss against her skin. It was faint, but the spark of it lingered, and it changed everything.

~

A few months had passed since the night of the storm and a lot had changed for the woman, at least inwardly. But their routine? It was all the same. They would make dinner, share in their comfortable silence (sometimes punctuated with lighthearted conversation) and then they’d return to their separate bedrooms. Every. Single. Night. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was a bit frustrating to say the least. 

And then he would leave every few weeks, on a venture out at sea. Where he would be gone for days at a time. And of course, she would miss him terribly. But would Y/N accompany him to the docks whenever he would leave? No. Would she ever be there to greet him home? Also no.

So it was safe to say that the blame was partially on her. Which frustrated the woman even further, because now she couldn’t even rely on the fact that the indifference was all one sided. Her actions apparently proved otherwise.

But what was it that she wanted to change? Maybe she expected their conversations to be much lengthier now that they had crossed the boundaries of hidden grievances. Or maybe she expected him to extend an invitation to sleep in his bedroom, now that they had participated in small instances of physical touch. Whatever it was, Y/N only knew one thing.

It had seemed they were still stuck at square one.

And with every one step forward there were three steps back. Not so long ago they were so close, lips against skin in the quiet of their living room. Safe in each other's arms as the storm raged on. But now? There was nothing. 

She resented the fact that she was falling into the wants and desires of the common Ardorian townsman. It all seemed very mundane against the aspirations she held close to her heart before she was married. But as she stewed in these feelings— especially during the times that Joel was away— she wondered if these desires were just part of the human experience. Perhaps they were even the desires that came with the burning passionate love she yearned for…

Now that she knew what it felt like. It all seemed so natural. You meet the one who befuddles your heart and soul and all you want is… more, more, more.

Would she ever get what she was hoping for?

Maybe she could, if she was brave enough. 

The opportunity presented itself the eve of Joel’s next expedition. 

He had gotten home early that day, so he was around to help finish up dinner. Y/N remembered being unable to look away as his large hands sliced each potato that needed to be added to the pot. He was attentive with his actions, just as he always was. She was jealous of the knife that resided gently in his grasp. Heat burned under her cheeks at her desperation.

Of course every detail of her wants and needs went unnoticed by Joel. Everything about their usual marital customs went off without a hitch, why should he think anything different could happen?

They ate their meal in silence. They cleaned up after themselves, as always. And then they slowly made their way up the stairs, just like they did every night. 

Joel stopped on the landing at the top. Y/N followed his actions. This wasn’t unusual, the same thing happened on every eve of his long departures. He stood, towering above her, she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

“I’ll be gone before you wake up.” He told her, his voice gruff. She nodded, once. Simple and to the point. Just like always.

Joel nodded back in confirmation and then turned to go, like a captain dismissing his subordinate. It was all very formal. Almost passionless, which was such a great contradiction to what the young woman was feeling inside of her chest. She was just about ready to burst. So even though she wasn’t exactly intending on doing so— she wasn’t surprised when her hand shot out to clasp her fingers around his wrist, stopping him before he disappeared into the secret confines of his bedroom. 

“You okay?” Joel asked, once he was facing her again. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but that wasn’t the way she wanted him to look at her. She shook her head, but it wasn’t an answer to his question. It was more like she was trying to tell him that that was the wrong thing to ask. Or rather, the wrong thing to do. 

“What’s wrong?” He inquired. 

As it turned out, Joel was not a mind-reader. And since Y/N was too afraid to speak out loud about any of her desires, she did the next thing she could think of. 

Her hands moved to grasp firmly against the lapels of his flannel. The floorboards beneath her creaked as she shifted onto her toes. She pulled Joel closer— closer than he’s ever been. She squeezed her eyes shut— almost like she was terrified when really this was all she wanted— and then before either of them knew it, she slotted her mouth against his own in a fervid kiss.

Joel stilled under the soft touch of her lips, surprised by the action, heart thrumming in his chest as he wondered if this was real. But the hesitation only lasted a split second before he reciprocated her kiss, leaning into her. The eagerness of which had caused their bodies to shift so that Y/N’s back was against the wall. She gasped against his lips, the grip on his shirt loosening.

He pulled away, but only slightly. His nose brushed against hers as he searched her eyes for any protests. He only found her pupils blown out with lust, paired with an indiscernible nod, a concession to keep going. 

In an instant, his large hands were now cupping her face, calluses rough on her skin but she didn’t mind— in fact she relished in it. Her fingers twisted into his shirt once again as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue, pulling another soft gasp from her. He used that to his advantage, slipping his tongue against hers. She whimpered at the taste of him, earning a groan that rumbled deep in Joel’s chest, each of her sweet sounds causing an involuntary twitch from behind the zipper of his pants. 

Joel was becoming more eager, selfish for more of that saccharine sound, his hands started to inch downwards. Smoothing over the curve of her neck, following the path of her shoulders, trailing down her arms, until his hands rested near the small of her back. He pulled her in closer, away from the wall. His fingers clutched onto the fabric of her dress. In a haze, he gathered more and more of the cotton within his hands, unknowingly exposing Y/N’s skin as he did.

She shivered as the back of her thighs met the frigid air, and soon almost the curve of her ass. It brought more attention to the heat that was pooling between her legs— A more intense version of a feeling that she’s only felt a few times before. It was harsh and greedy and it only grew stronger as Joel detached himself from her lips.

A whine spilled over her tongue at the loss, but all was forgiven when he began to press ardent kisses to the skin of her neck. She arched her back into his large frame, bringing notice to her nipples pebbling under the lace of her bra, another moan escaped her lips. He returned the noise with his own grunt of pleasure as his beard scratched against her supple skin. Suddenly she was aware of every single part of him. 

His lips sucking softly at the skin just below her jawline. His flannel-clad chest was strong and solid underneath her hands, heartbeat pulsing into her palms. His own larger hands pulled her closer between every groan that vibrated through his throat. And then there was the hard heat of him pressed against her lower stomach.

The sign of his arousal had caused an ache so deep within her core that it shocked her. It was new and exciting, but it was overwhelming and it made her afraid of the strength that her desires possessed. The burn of shame licked white hot against her skin. 

Joel— unaware of her inner turmoil as his lips kissed against the tendons in her neck— was given quite a shock when her hands pushed him away with surprising strength. He stumbled backwards, back hitting the other wall of the hallway. His eyes were wide and fearful that he did something wrong. Cheeks splotched a pretty color of pink and his lips swollen from her kiss.

Y/N covered her face with her hands, embarrassment and immense arousal caused her shoulders to tremble.

“I’m sorry.” She squeaked between her fingers, “Um, Thank you for… that, but I should…”

She backed away as she spoke, her sentence unfinished as she quickly escaped through the door to her bedroom. It slammed shut, abrasive in the action itself. 

Joel stood with his back flush against the wall and a harsh strain against his zipper as he stared dumbfounded at the wood of her closed door.

~

Her humiliation kept her within the boundaries of her room the entire morning that next day, refusing to step even one foot out into the rest of the house until she knew Joel was gone. The sounds of his footsteps came and went just like they did every time he left for the docks. But Y/N’s dread seemed to have projected itself into the way time moved.

It felt like ages before he was actually gone, almost to the point where it felt like he was dragging his feet, hesitating to go. Like he was waiting for something to happen.

But that couldn’t have been the case, because Joel had his morning routine down to an art. So Y/N was convinced it was her own hallucination that caused time to move at such a snail’s pace.

Once the sound of the front door swinging shut rattled the foundation of their home, Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. Just his very presence within this house— even separated by walls and other rooms— had such a strong effect on her that she couldn’t let herself recount the events of last night until she was certain she was completely alone. 

And once those images returned to the forefront of her mind, she immediately pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. 

Though that only made the memory of it stronger through the stars that burst behind her eyelids from the hard press of her hands. A frustrated whine escaped her lips as she squirmed in her sheets. The movement of it caused her to take notice of the slick pooling in her panties, ever present since the first touch of Joel’s lips.  

She rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache (though of course her efforts fell flat). 

How was this at all possible? How was Joel able to pull such aggressive lust from just one single heated interaction? 

Maybe it was because no one had ever touched her like that before.

The awkward, clumsy kisses she had shared with others in the past couldn’t hold a candle to what Joel had done to her. Forgotten was the memory of her very first kiss, which was frail and timid like a wounded bird. Or those later in life which were nice and gentle, but nothing special. Those moments of her past were now replaced by a roaring beast of want and desire. Joel had made her feel like the world had shifted on its axis, that he shifted it himself with his own two calloused hands. Just for her. And that was only with the touch of his lips. What else was he capable of doing? 

The sheets rustled under Y/N’s weight as she quickly sat up in bed, regret stirring deep in her belly. She just realized— what with the way she reacted last night— she may never be able to find out. It was such a monumental milestone for their steady forming relationship and she had ended it by pushing him away and leaving him behind in the dark shadows of the hallway. She hadn’t even spared a glance in his direction, his reaction to her abrupt dismissal will remain forever unknown.

Or at least until he returns home.

But that wouldn’t be for another three days. Sure, luck was on the girls side since it was on the shorter side of his usual expeditions. But seventy-two hours left a lot of room for her overactive imagination to run rampant. 

And she was now stewing on the outlandish conclusion that based on her reaction Joel would never want to touch her again. The frustration of that notion followed her throughout her morning.

It prickled at her skin as she stood in the shower, the hot water not doing enough to wash it away. Her skin was practically rubbed raw by the time she stepped out into the steamy bathroom, her hopes to scrub away her humiliation going down the drain, along with the lavender scented soap bubbles. 

It caused her hands to shake, as she tugged the soft green fabric of her favorite dress over her head, the skirt of it swirling around her ankles as it fell into place. Y/N had thought if she wore her favorite clothing item that she might feel better about the whole situation.

But it didn’t help.

In fact, none of the aspects of her usual morning routine had helped her calm her beating heart, or her racing mind, or even the arousal between her legs— that, yes, was still there despite her forcing away any reminder of how it felt to have Joel’s lips on her skin.

She now stood at the kitchen counter, her eyes clenched shut as she begged her brain to conjure up any other image. But that just brought up a confusing mixture of childhood memories intertwined with the heavy sound of Joel’s breathing in her ear. Which made her feel shameful as she felt so much more different than the young restless girl she was back then. Was this the loss of her innocence? She supposed it was.

But then again, she was married to Joel. And these feelings were quite expected for a wife to feel towards her husband. There was no reason for her to feel ashamed by these thoughts, especially if they seemed reciprocated— brought forth by the evidence she felt last night pressing against her stomach.

The reminder brought heat up to her cheeks and that very same ache deep in her core when she had first felt it. 

Y/N breathed in the air around her, dragging it into her lungs, pushing it out in a heavy wistful sigh. A flash of Joel’s hands flitted across her mind. Goosebumps littered her skin as she recalled the way his fingertips felt on the skin between her neck and shoulder. 

Subconsciously she brought her own fingers to that very same spot. Tilting her head, she dragged her fingernails over her skin in slow circles, causing shivers to run up and down the length of her spine. She imagined how Joel’s hand was soon replaced by the soft touch of his lips, and her hand moved to her collarbone, a place she wished he had discovered with his tongue. Another sigh left her lips as her imagination replaced her hand with Joel’s. Her eyes were closed again, softer this time as she conjured up the fantasy.

Lips against skin. Hands wandering. Breathing heavy.

Though the tantalizing image soon vanished into the air like a bubble popping, when the sound of the front door slamming shut rang out through the tiny house. A gasp slipped from between her lips as she whipped around towards the intrusion. Her palm flush against her chest to calm her beating heart.

The sight of Joel standing in the doorway knocked the air out of Y/N’s lungs. It was as if her improper thoughts had manifested him to be standing right there in front of her. The curls of his hair were askew, as if he had been running his fingers through it, over and over. His large chest was heaving with slow heavy breaths, the same way her own chest was moving. 

He swallowed, the adam's apple in his throat bobbing. He shook his head slightly, his brows furrowed, and then he looked back towards the door he just walked through. As if he hadn’t realized where he came from or what he was doing.

“Joel?” She questioned, her tone was breathless, desperate for something to fill the silence and tension that was slowly forming between them.

“’m sorry.” He breathed, when he turned back to her, his eyes shining with something that Y/N couldn’t quite place. Was it surprise? Curiosity? “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“What are you doing here?” She asked, somehow feeling brave enough to take a step forward. “I thought you were leaving on your trip?”

“I was— or I am.” He stumbled through the words. “It just got delayed for a couple hours. There were some last minute repairs needed on the ship…”

“And you had enough time to come back?” She questioned.

Joel paused, swallowing again. His eyes scaled over Y/N, taking in the look that resided behind her irises, the way she was breathing heavily, and how that green dress caressed her curves. She looked like she had just been caught in the act of something inappropriate, despite her just standing in the kitchen. An endeavor that was innocent in and of itself. But— god— the look of her, standing there in the golden light streaming in from the window above the sink, she looked downright sinful. Or maybe that was his own lust taking control and projecting itself onto her.

A lust that had kept him on edge this entire morning. Throughout the night too, when he was restless in his bed— remembering what happened between them— tossing and turning like the ocean tide. It never relented, so much so that when Tommy told him they had a few extra hours, Joel’s feet were already moving back towards his truck so that he could spend that time with Y/N. In this house. And even though he told himself to behave when he walked through the front door, It persisted. Even now as he stood in front of her, taking in the sight of her blown out pupils, eyes darkened with what he hoped was that very same lust. 

“I forgot somethin’” He then said, as he realized she was still expecting an answer. “Had to come back to get it.”

“Oh… alright.” She replied, blinking as if she were just pulled from a trance. “What was it? I can help you look for it.”

Joel shook his head, deliberately this time. He took a step forward, the tension growing thicker as he did. His brown eyes held her stare. “I know where it is.”

His words were soft as they rolled off his tongue, causing an involuntary shiver to forge its way through Y/N’s bones. It was much more forceful than what she had felt under her own touch, only a few minutes prior. Joel must have taken notice of the effect that his voice had over her body, as he dragged in a low shuddering breath.

He took another step forward. And then another. And another, until he joined her in the kitchen, standing right in front of her, their chests only centimeters apart. Y/N had to tilt her head up to be able to look him in the eye. Which she was shocked she was brave enough to do, considering how he looked like he wanted to devour her.

“What are you doing?” She whispered, her eyes flicking down to his mouth as Joel dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. The sight of it was magnetic, pulling her in so that her chest was now brushing against his with every breath. 

“Tell me to stop.” He said, his voice in that same hushed tone. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Y/N, defiant in her own nature, replied. “What was it that you forgot?”

“I didn’t forget anythin’.” Joel told her, honestly, his fingers moving to pinch at a piece of her flowing skirt. As if the small action would keep her right there in front of him. Where he was desperate to have her. Hoping that it would keep her in place instead of having her running away like last time. 

“It’s more like…” He continued, tilting his head down so that his forehead rested against hers. She gasped at the skin contact, relief flooding her form as she quickly realized his touch wasn’t lost to her like she had feared. “Somethin’ I regret not doin’.”

“And what do you regret, Mr. Miller?” She murmured, her eyes averted to the floor beneath their feet. The surname fell out of her mouth unexpectedly, as if garnering his respect would grant her the knowledge of his secret.

“Well, Mrs. Miller…” The reminder that she shared that very surname with him by holy matrimony caused a jolt of surprise to coarse through her veins. But it was replaced with satisfaction soon enough. She marveled at the fact that she wasn’t exactly bothered by the concept, in fact she almost relished in it. And then Joel said his next words.

 “I can show you exactly what that is… if you’ll let me.”

She didn’t have it in her to speak. Any reply that she could’ve had was lost in the back of her throat. All she could do was to nod eagerly, any shame she could’ve had at her desperation was tossed out the window.

“I need you to use your words.” Joel said in response to her movements, his voice hoarse as if he were holding himself back and the action of doing so was terribly difficult. 

“I— Yes… please, Joel.” She whispered, her breath fanning across his cheeks. “I want you to show me.”

This time, Joel was the first to bring their lips together in a zealous kiss. The green fabric that resided between his forefinger and thumb was soon shifted to be gripped by his hands as he pulled her in. Their bodies were now flushed together. The softness of her breasts pushing into the solid form of his chest. Simultaneous sighs of relief intermingled on their tongues when they finally let themselves melt into one another.

Y/N gasped into his mouth when his teeth nipped at the plush skin of her bottom lip. She had already known how brash he was with his movements from their kiss last night, but now it seemed as if all of his inhibitions were lost to him, his hands now smoothing over the curve of her ass. Joel’s fingers gripped at the supple flesh through her dress, pulling her waist into his own. 

She moaned at his touch, as well as the sign of his arousal digging into her hip. Her arms shifted to wrap around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscles on his back, urging him to move closer, if that were even possible. 

And in this instance, she wasn’t disappointed by the loss of his lips, because he was quick to replace them somewhere else on her skin. It was as if he had to kiss every inch of her before he moved on to undiscovered territory. Joel’s lips were kissing at the corners of her lips, and the apples of her cheeks before he moved down to her jawline. 

Though this was where he became more selfish in his actions, nipping at the skin so he could hear the sweet little whimpers that would waver from between her lips. Then he would lick over the bruised skin, soothing her of the slight pain he might’ve caused, heart hammering at the soft sighs of satisfaction she gifted him. Joel groaned at the sounds she made, relishing in the glory of every moan, whine and sigh. He could feel as he grew harder against the strain of his pants, the pain of it almost too much to bear. But this wasn’t about him. Instead, it had everything to do with the woman arching into his lips.

Thick fingers curled around the square neckline of Y/N’s lovely dress, knuckles brushing against her sternum as he tugged down at the fabric. A sharp gasp rang out into the air as her sleeves slid down her arms, allowing the exposure of her nipples to cold morning air, already hardened by her arousal to the man committing these actions. The flesh of her breasts bouncing slightly from the momentum in which he moved. 

Joel pulled his mouth away from her, eager to get a look.

Y/N could feel herself flush under his stare, suddenly shy as he drank in this new image of her. She wanted to look away and hide in her self-consciousness, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of his dilated pupils and the endearing shade of pink that tinted his cheekbones. A burning need was flashing across his brown irises, the sight of it sparking an odd sense of confidence in the woman. She straightened her shoulders, letting him look at her. Because he would be the only man who would ever get to see her like this. 

He groaned again, at the sight of her perked nipples paired with her newfound boldness.

“S’ pretty.” He mumbled, smoothing a large hand up over her breast, he could feel the pebbled skin pricking into his rough palm. She hummed at the compliment as well as his touch. Though a second later it was replaced with a harsh ‘ah’— pulled from her lips when his hand shifted so that he could pinch at her nipple. 

It was the most torturous form of pleasure she had ever felt in her life. That was until he guided her body until she could feel the kitchen table digging into her lower back. His free hand gripped at the flesh under her ass, lifting her up and making it so that she was now sat against the surface. With her now stationary on the table, he was able to bend over, lips finding purchase on the nipple that wasn’t trapped between his fingers.

A high pitched moan was ripped from her throat as she subconsciously spread her legs, Joel’s hips fitting perfectly in the space between her thighs. Her hand splayed out on the wood behind her as she arched into his tongue that was now currently swirling lazy circles around the sensitive bud. And though she had never done anything like this before, her hips started to move in the only way that seemed natural. The only way that seemed to relieve the ache that pulsed between her legs.

Y/N rolled her hips up into Joel, the hardness of him firm against her clothed center, soaked from her constant arousal since their first kiss. She wondered if she would make a mess of the pants he was wearing, but the thought was fleeting once Joel pulled away from her skin.

“Fuck.” He stammered, resting his forehead in the valley of her breasts, his brown curls tickling her skin.  “D-don’t do that, darlin’.” 

Y/N stilled. “Why? Did I hurt you?”

He laughed breathlessly, the air of it fanning over Y/N’s chest. “No, nothing like that… Just feels t’ good.”

“Oh.” She said, a bit bashfully, but a small smile tugged at her kiss-bruised lips. Pride started to swell deep in her stomach at the admission that she made him feel just as good. And that idea was too precious to pass up on. “Then maybe I should keep doing that.”

She grinded her hips against him again, forcing him to remove himself from her chest, sucking in a harsh breath. His hand shot out, gripping onto the supple flesh of her inner thigh, now exposed as the skirt of her dress had shifted during their hectic movements. 

“Please, sweetheart.” Joel begged, his nails digging into her leg. “You gotta stop.”

“But I wanna make you feel good.” She pouted, hips stilled by the brace he instilled upon her. Joel released a shaky breath, moving his forehead to rest on Y/N’s once more. His gaze was averted to the green fabric bunched up under her breasts, his brown eyes lost to her.

“You have no idea how much I want that— how long I’ve wanted that.” He murmured. “But I came back here for a reason.”

His voice sounded more determined by the end of his sentence. In doing so, it made the woman’s tone that much smaller, but she was still quite the contrarian to his words.

“I thought this was the reason.” She countered, sliding her hand up behind his neck, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his hairline. This time it was him shivering under her touch.

A soft smile curled upon Joel’s lips, he shook his head against her forehead, in slight laughter. “No. It’s close to what I was picturin’... but not quite.”

“Then what were you picturing?” She asked.

Joel leaned back, finally gracing her with the sight of his eyes, He didn’t answer her question, only holding an excruciating form of eye contact with the woman. And then, the once rough fingers that had tugged at her clothing and groped at her flesh were now trailing soft patterns into the skin of her thigh. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as they started to move closer to the spot between her legs. The ache she felt for him was now burning with great white heat.

Her own hands were gripping in their respective areas, meaning one was tugging at Joel's hair, pulling satisfied groans from his lips, while the other was locked around the edge of the table. Her hips jutted forward by their own accord when his fingertips skirted around the edge of her panties.

“Joel.” She whined, frustrated by his featherlight touch, though strangely enough also reveling in his gentle caress. 

“I know.” He whispered, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I know… I’ll give you what you want— just let me…”

He splayed his large hand onto her thigh, pushing against it so that she’d spread out wider for him. There was no resistance from her, only eager relinquishment. There was a harsh twitch of his cock at the thought that she would let him do anything with her, along with the idea that her body was all his for the taking. A covet he never thought would come into fruition. 

“Please, Joel.” She urged again, and Joel realized right then that he was just as much hers as she was his. He would do anything for her. His body ached to give her exactly what she wanted. 

So he did.

Y/N gasped when his thumb pressed firmly against the darkened spot on her panties, a similar gasp falling from Joel’s lips when he finally learned how wet she truly was. And it was all for him. 

He moved his digit at an agonizing pace, moving in slow circles around the most sensitive part of her, not even sparing a fleeting touch to the bud of nerves. The torture of it all was exquisite. Y/N’s head fell backwards as she moaned, the tendons of her neck stretched out in front of Joel, the sight of it too enticing for his own good. He leaned forward, touching his lips against her skin. 

Now having to focus on two things at once, his movements against her core became sloppy, and his touch harshened, slipping over Y/N’s clit. An embarrassing squeal forced its way from her throat as she jutted her hips fiercely into Joel’s thumb. He grinned against her skin.

“Oh, you liked that, didn't you?” He chuckled, placing more kisses down her neck, his beard scratching her skin as he moved. Y/N had a response to his teasing tone, perhaps it was even quick-witted, but it was stolen from her lips and replaced with another desperate moan when his tongue swirled around her nipple.

It was all becoming too much with every tiny ministration he committed on her skin. She felt as though she could burst into flames. Little did she know that it would all come to a head when Joel would kiss his way down her body, heavy knees dropping to the floor. There was no patience left within him when he practically ripped Y/N’s panties off of her body, hands roughly pushing her thighs apart.

“J-Joel, what are you doing?” She questioned, forearms braced against the table, being pushed back further up the furniture as Joel started nipping at her inner thigh, goosebumps following in his wake

“‘m doin’ what I came here for.” He mumbled into her skin, teeth grazing the malleable flesh. She was about to ask exactly what that might be, but the question was answered when he licked a long stripe through her slick folds.

Curses tumbled out of Y/N’s lips as he used his mouth on her. Never in a million years would she imagine that he would do something so… obscene. And she never would have anticipated how much she loved it. Her eyes were wide as she marveled at the sight of him. His brown eyes were staring back up at her from over her mound, drinking in every little reaction he spurred from her. His hair was wild, the look of it brought on by Y/N’s fingers as she ran them through the tendrils, forcing him closer and closer. And then there were the noises of him slurping and groaning and relishing in the taste of her. 

At the beginning, Joel was slow with his actions, his tongue going up and down the length of her slit. Again he would frustratingly avoid touching her clit, tracing big circles around the bud, building up anticipation deep in Y/N’s stomach. But as he continued, every so often he would flick over it pulling more whimpers from Y/N’s throat. He would moan against her folds in satisfaction, the vocalizations causing slight vibrations to run through her entire form. 

Y/N’s head fell with a soft thump against the table, her back arching up into the air, squirming under Joel’s actions. A hand snaked up from Y/N’s thigh, placing itself on her sternum. His palm was rough against the skin between her bare breasts, holding her down and keeping her in place. 

Finally, seemingly deciding that the woman had been through enough torture, Joel wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it harshly. She all but screamed at this new sensation overcoming her, her right leg slipping over his left shoulder, unknowingly trapping him in place. They were locked in a heated tryst, his hand still braced on her chest, her calf pushing into his back and Joel’s mouth and tongue were still unrelenting. 

She couldn’t help but to twist her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer against her cunt, she grinded her hips into his face, any tribulations that she might be hurting him lost in her pleasure. But if only she knew how much Joel adored her desperate nature as she chased after her high on his tongue. In fact he had never been this hard in his life. He could feel himself dripping inside of his pants, making a mess of his boxers as precum spilled from his tip with every twitch of his cock. His hips were thrusting into the air beneath the table in his own desperation. The seam of his zipper was rubbing firmly against the length of him. Joel honestly would not be surprised if he ended up cumming without even having to touch himself.

And as it turned out, eventually he would.

Joel’s name was now falling freely from between Y/N’s lips in broken fragments. The movements of her hips were becoming clumsy, stuttering as Joel continued to lick at her clit, groaning everytime she pulled at his hair. The heat burning low in her stomach began to grow hotter and more incessant. And with one more deliberate move of Joel’s tongue against her clit, it all began to burst.

The sight of Y/N cumming was the prettiest thing Joel had ever seen. Her head was thrust back against the table, supple lips drawn open as more of her moans escaped into the air, along with the sound of his name. Her whole body was tensing and shaking as the waves of her orgasm washed over her body. Joel’s mouth was ruthless on her cunt, drinking anything she had to offer him as the proof of her orgasm splashed over his tongue. The sight of her, as well as the taste of her, was all too much to bear as his own hips involuntarily jutted into nothing, the confines of his pants working against him in a way that had him finishing. He shuddered at the sensation, his shoulders trembling as he could feel his own cum spill into the fabric of his underwear. He whimpered into Y/N’s cunt, breathing sharply out of his nose, still trying to coax her down from her own orgasm as her body became limp and her breathing heavy, until finally everything started to slow down. 

Searching hands groped around until they finally found purchase on Joel’s shoulders. She tugged at his shirt, forcing him away from her oversensitive core and out from between her legs. 

She was met with eyes blown out with lust and a fading orgasm, red lips parted in amazement and beard shining with her cum. His clothes were askew and his brown curls were all over the place. He looked completely out of it. Though she probably couldn’t say she was much better.

And Joel admired the image of it as he stood above her. She blinked up at him, leaning back on her elbows, a look of pure wonderment painting her features. Her green dress was bunched around her middle, nipples still perked in the cool air of the kitchen, her chest stuttering with every breath. He smiled softly at her, leaning to snake a hand around her waist, pulling her up into a sitting position, her hands instinctively looping around his broad shoulders.

“You alright?” He asked gently as he stood her on shaking legs, the skirt of her dress now falling back in place. She shivered when she felt the touch of his knuckles on her chest once again as he shifted the top of her dress back in its proper position.

“I—  um… yeah.” She said breathlessly, words lost to her in her post-orgasmic state. Joel couldn’t help but grin at her flustered demeanor, bringing a hand up to her cheek. She was grateful for his touch, leaning into his hand as he caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips causing Y/N to taste herself upon his skin.

“Did you… get what you were looking for?” Y/N questioned, once they pulled apart. Earning soft laughter deep from within Joel’s chest. The sound of it quirking up the corners of Y/N’s lips in a shy smile, pride swelling in her belly since she was the one who caused it.

“That I did, sweetheart.” He smiled, running a hand over her hair, his eyes sparking with contentment. Her shy smile morphed into that of a bright grin, pulling him back in towards her to share a deeper kiss. He groaned into her lips, unexpected for the both of them as another surge of lust sparked between them, seemingly unsatisfied by what they had just finished. She whimpered back into his mouth as tongues started probing and teeth nipping once again. At a particularly boisterous moan from Y/N, Joel had to pull away. 

“W-wait.” He breathed, “I— We can’t, we don’t have time. I have to go back.”

Y/N deflated at his words, but ultimately nodded her head in understanding. She took a step back from him, needing the distance to quell her need to melt into him once more. Though Joel’s fingers quickly wrapped around her own, stopping her from moving away any further.

“You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?” He asked, the question causing Y/N’s heart to drop down to her stomach. As she looked at him she found insecurities scrawled across his features. Maybe she hadn’t done enough to convince him that she wasn’t going anywhere. Or perhaps this was leftover from pain he endured in the past. She brought his hand up, brushing her lips across his knuckles in a sweet kiss, and then covered that spot with her free hand.

“I promise.” She whispered, her gaze locked on his searching eyes, flickering over her features, trying to find the truth. When he found nothing but her earnest smile he felt brave enough to go, but not before leaving her with one more breathless kiss. 

Y/N had watched silently as he got ready to leave, washing his face with the bar of hand soap left on the side of the kitchen sink. She didn’t say anything as he readjusted his clothes and threw his bag over his shoulder. And she didn’t beg him to stay when he finally placed that final kiss upon her lips. All she did was sink further and further into the throes of missing him, despite the fact that he was right in front of her.

It only grew stronger as he whispered more promises of continuing when he returned three days later. She held onto that promise, close to her chest like a dying flame, watching as the view of his truck disappeared over the horizon. 

She prayed to the gods above that time would fly quickly.

Though perhaps she should’ve been praying for something else entirely. 

Because later that night and hundreds of miles out from the shoreline, a little ship bobbed at sea. The workers on deck scrambled in preparation. Worry stiffened their brows. Prayers to Poseidon fell from their lips. A soft pattern of rain began to sprinkle over their heads, it was unassuming in its very nature. But that was just the first sign of the oncoming danger as they headed into the eye of the storm. 

Three days came and went.

Joel had yet to return home. 

Y/N knew that the life of a fisherman was dangerous and unpredictable, she had heard many stories, most of which when she was younger, whispered to her by her classmates as they relayed the most gory details from the sad news of a shipwreck. Some were overheard at the local pub, traumatic events recounted around a bottle of brandy as fishermen tried to top each other's stories.

Frankly, these stories hardly bothered the young woman like it did to others in town. She couldn’t indulge in the disturbance of it all because the way these stories were told, relayed like an unattainable fairytale. It was all folklore in her mind. She was certain that nothing like that could ever affect any aspect of her life.

She was eating her words now. 

It was on the sixth day that Joel was gone when she heard that it was a storm that delayed their ship, knocking it off its course.

The information was brought to her front doorstep by her very own father, who in his old age made the trek across the island to do so. This left Y/N’s stomach unsettled, for he would never go to such great lengths unless something truly terrible had occurred. 

She was reminded of the day her mother died. He adorned the same face that painted his features now. Eyes downcasted, lower lip trembling, hands twisting around his patched cap. He was sitting on one of the wooden chairs strewn around the kitchen table. Y/N was leaned up against the counter, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“We didn’t get the message until early this morning. Radio was down, they barely got it  workin’ when they reached us...” He said quietly, to the toes of his boots.

“And?” Y/N urged, knowing her father had more to say.

“They lost a few men.” He said quickly, as if he couldn’t stand to have the words left on his tongue. Y/N sucked in a breath. She turned around, facing the window over the sink. She braced her palms on the counter, vision blurring as tears pricked the corner of her eyes.

“Did they say who?” She asked, words choked between her tightening vocal cords, constricting from her tears.

“No, couldn’t keep the signal for long enough.” He murmured, she could hear him stand, the legs of the chair squeaking against the tile. “But they did say they’ll be returning by this evening.”

Y/N whipped around at that, her features twisted in vexation. The lead buried so much deeper than it needed to be. She would have to keep her annoyance left unsaid, however, as now there was no time to waste. 

She brushed past her father hastily, ignoring the way her name was called after her as she staggered around the living room, clumsy in the way she tugged her boots over her feet. Her jacket was long forgotten on the hook by the door as she hurried outside, the thought of it only coming once the cool winds whipped at her exposed arms and cheeks. But she wouldn’t turn back for it. Her adrenaline kept her warm, anyways.

It was a two hour walk to get to the docks. Beads of sweat ran down her spine, blisters pinched at the heels of her feet, her breathing was labored as she pushed her anxiety out of her lungs. Though none of that mattered. All she knew was that she had to get to the docks. She had to get to him. If he was even there…

She swiped angrily at the tears that now carved pathways down the skin of her cheeks. Never in her life had she ever been able to keep her emotions at bay, she was always willing to scream at the sky and cry til her throat was raw. That fact was unchanging even as she grew older. So she let her tears fall. They didn’t distract from her current mission, anyhow. Her eyes were set on the small town that appeared over the horizon. 

The whole town congregated at the docks. Passersby stood on the cobblestone streets, their inherent nosiness ill-concealed by their feigned looks of concern. Whispers flitted between them as if this were all just a dramatized show to keep them entertained. Y/N let no apologies slip through her lips as she pushed her way through them, knocking into their shoulders and earning glares as she did. 

When her footsteps rang out on the wood of the dock that's when she was surrounded by the people like her. Family members worried for their loved ones lost at sea. They all stood silently as their eyes were set towards the ocean, hands clutched in prayer, whispering hopes that it wasn’t their spouse, parent or child who lost their life to an unrelenting sea. Y/N was too impatient to do the same. She just stood and waited for any kind of sign that Joel would be home soon.

It came only thirty minutes later. When a small boy at the front of the dock screeched in anticipation, pointing out a small dot wavering in the distance. Y/N’s stomach swooped down in a mixture of hope and apprehension. She was terrified to learn the truth of what happened.

But twenty minutes after that, the truth had arrived as the ship pulled in with the tide. Everyone advanced closer to where the fisherman would eventually unboard. Y/N stayed behind, her feet frozen to where she stood. Maybe she was trying to delay the inevitable. 

Relieved cries and overjoyed calling of names soon swirled into the evening air as loved ones were reunited. Warm embraces and fervent kisses were exchanged between them. But it was all backtracked by the ones who received news of a death, heartbreaking wails mixing in with the sound of reunion.

It was an unsettling cacophony of sounds. The way love and loss intertwined within one another. Two sides of the same coin. And Y/N still had yet to know which one she was on. 

Her hands were shaking. Her sight was restricted by the many heads that stood in front of her. She scanned each face, none of them holding the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to. Her stomach sank deeper and deeper, her throat started to constrict again, a sob threatened to burst out from between her trembling lips.

She couldn’t hold it back once she registered a mess of brown and gray curls making its way through the crowd. The sob released itself, though not in anguish as she had thought, it was instead paired with the most intense form of relief she had ever known. Her feet started to move by their own accord.

His name fell desperately from her lips. 

Joel stilled once he heard the sound of it. Brown eyes wild as he searched frantically for where it was coming from. When they found her through a split in the crowd, Y/N was met with the same look of relief she knew was apparent within her own irises. 

His stride lengthened as he worked fast to cut the distance between them. As she drew nearer, he registered the tear stains on her supple skin, fresh ones following the same path. His heart lurched at the sight, the overwhelming need to hold her burning his skin. Burning hotter as she drew nearer. Setting him ablaze when she was right in front of him. 

He tossed his bag to the side in favor of wrapping his arms around her. He relished in the way she sank into his arms, curling into his chest. He felt how her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, beating in the same pattern as his own. Joel held onto her even tighter.

“You scared the hell out of me.” She cried, tone muffled by his cable knit sweater as she hid her face in his warmth. A large hand smoothed over the back of her head, bringing her in even closer if that was even possible. His nose dropped down into her hair, the scent of her invading his senses, comforting him. He was back home. Safe. And she was here waiting for him. 

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He murmured, the nickname falling freely in his solace. 

She didn’t seem to mind. 

They returned home just as the sun dipped below the horizon, losing the orange hues of the sunset to a dark velvet sky littered with stars. The journey was much easier on the way back now that they had Joel’s old truck that was waiting for him down by the docks. As well as the fact that the reassurance of Joel’s return replaced the heavy feeling of fear that had haunted Y/N for the past three days.

They were greeted by a homemade meal, left behind by Y/N’s father. A gift either of consolation or celebration. She was grateful it was the latter. 

And once their bellies were full and the pain of the day was washed away in soothing streams of hot water, the two of them stood in the hallway once again. Y/N was unsure of what to do. Less than a week ago they had crossed a boundary she hadn’t even dreamed of. Now they were standing at the precipice of something even greater. And since Joel was safe at home once again, the anticipation to act on it was dripping from the walls. 

Was she ready for such a feat? Was Joel expecting something like this to happen? Nerves brought a tremor to her hands. 

Meanwhile, Joel could feel the tips of his ears burning at the memory of what happened the last time they were alone together. Her moans had him weak in the knees, her skin was soft to the touch, things he only knew since Y/N had made the first move in this very hallway. A bolder woman than what stood in front of him now, as her eyes stayed glued to the floor, her breathing fragmented from timidity.

His gaze softened as he took in the sight of her.

“I don’t know what you’re expectin’ to happen...” He breathed, a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “But I can assure you it’s not what you’re thinkin’...”

Y/N’s eyes flickered up at the teasing lilt to his words. She was met with a mischievous gleam in those brown eyes as he repeated the very first thing she ever said to him. She couldn’t help her own grin that bloomed across her lips. 

At her smile, he felt brave enough to bring a hand up to her cheek. 

“You have nothing to worry about, darlin’” He then murmured, stroking his thumb over the soft skin. She leaned in his touch, peering up at him through her lashes. “We don’t have to do anythin’.”

“I want to.” She whispered back, her words causing his breath to hitch in his throat. “Eventually… but tonight…”

He nodded, removing his touch from her face. “I understand.”

The floorboards creaked as he took a step back. But surprise shot up his spine when she moved to clutch his fallen hand with both of her own. 

“But tonight could you just lay with me?” She quickly added.

She looked up at him expectantly, the plush of her bottom lip dragged between her teeth. He let out a low labored breath.

“Y-yeah.” He nodded, the word weak on his tongue. He was afraid that if he spoke any louder he might scare her off. Though the grip of her fingers locked around his palm proved to him that she was there to stay. A reassurance he was always grateful for. 

Y/N tugged at his hand, urging him to follow as she guided their way into her bedroom. It was an odd choice, considering the master bedroom was just right there and the bed was bigger. But to be invited into her private sanctuary was an opportunity he would never pass on. So his feet followed eagerly.

It was dark in the room when they entered and it stayed that way as no one made a move to turn on the light. Unfortunately, what she had done to make the bedroom her own was lost to his eyes, but that regret was soon forgotten as he heard the squeak of mattress springs and the shuffling of blankets.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found Y/N’s form on the bed in front of him, he stood on the side, basking in the glory of this moment. 

“Come here.” Her whisper found him through the dark. His stomach swooped at the sultry sound of her voice. But he ignored any provocative thoughts that wormed its way into his brain. Instead, he obeyed her command, the mattress dipping as he slid under the covers beside her.

In an instant, his senses were invaded by her scent as well as her warmth. There was only an inch or two of distance between them. Both lying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

A sharp intake of breath rang out from Joel when the touch of her fingertips smoothed over his open palm in the space between them. Naturally, his own digits curled around hers. He heard as she sighed happily from his reciprocation. 

And somehow— despite how fast his heartbeat was when he had her writhing under his tongue only a few days prior, it was nothing compared to the small gentle act of holding her hand.

~

Joel was up before the sun.

As was the case every morning, since his body's internal clock was intune with the demanding schedule his occupation thrusted upon him. So he was used to opening his eyes to a darkened world, not yet warmed by rays of sunlight.

Though today was slightly different. He wasn’t woken by the natural fluttering of his eyelids as his dreams from that night slipped away; Instead it was the press of another person’s form against his body, an arm draped over his torso, legs intertwined between his own, head resting on his chest.

He stiffened once he remembered where he was and who it was.

Y/N.

She was warm through the fabric of their pajamas. So much so that Joel didn’t even miss the warmth of the sun like he usually did during these dark and frigid mornings. A deep contented sigh pushed through the structure of his chest, Y/N’s head moving in time with his breathing. The movement elicited a small whine from her lips.

The sound had his heart racing yet again, reminding him of the other noises she was capable of making.

Those noises had been replaying over and over in Joel’s mind ever since he was blessed to hear them— even better, to create them with the touch of his own hands and lips. He brought the memory with him when he was on that small boat, miles out at sea, restless in his cot as he ached to return home to her. 

When they were caught in the throes of that storm all he could think about was her. The drive of it kept him alive throughout the chaos. 

Now here he was, sharing in her warmth, despite the awkward navigation of their newfound forms of intimacy. Anticipation surged through his muscles, pulling away the last dregs of sleep that had plagued his limbs. 

Joel cursed under his breath as something else began to stir to life. 

This was a young man's game. He was in over his head with the feelings she evoked from him. Never in his life had he experienced anything quite like this. The way every part of his body begged for every part of hers. Everything he’d felt for those before her was just a crude imitation of what he felt for her at this very moment. It was almost an insult to compare. Nothing could ever compare..

And he had no idea what he was supposed to do. 

Which was funny. Because this woman was his wife. She was the one person he should feel this for. But with the way they had started Joel wasn’t sure what he was allowed to take what he wanted. Was he allowed to be selfish the way he wanted to? Everything surrounding the two of them was delicate. And Joel was terrified of breaking it with his large and clumsy hands.  

For now he would just have to hold himself back. Be gentle in the way that he navigated this unknown territory. Which meant he had to do the hardest thing in the world. 

He had to get out of this bed. 

Slowly and cautiously he detangled his limbs from the woman beside him. He trained his eyes on her face, searching for any sign that his movements were waking her up. The line between her eyebrows showed itself when her cheek lost the firm foundation of his chest, but that— and a few incoherent mumbles— was all that occurred as he slipped himself out of her bed. Luckily, she seemed to be a sound sleeper as she curled up into herself without Joel’s warmth. 

Joel stood above her, almost caught in a trance from how disgruntled she looked now that he was gone, proof of the effect he had on her as well. A small smile danced on his lips. And then he allowed himself one indulgence as he leaned over to brush a faint kiss over her forehead. He felt her features smooth under his lips, seemingly content with his departing gift.

~

To wake up alone in a cold empty bed was not what Y/N had expected that morning. There were a few instances during the night, when her dreams took a pause that she would wake up, eyes blinking in the dark. And she quickly grew accustomed to the strong presence that Joel was. The soft steady sound of his snores was a comfort to the girl’s ears as they rumbled through his chest. At some point in the night his strong arms had encircled around her waist, pulling her into his warmth.

That very same warmth, having been taken away from her, was now sorely missed. She stretched an arm out over the expanse of her bed, fingers groping at where Joel once lay. 

She supposed she should’ve expected to wake up like this, considering how early he left every morning. But she would have thought she would’ve woken up when the time came. At least long enough to spare a goodbye before he headed off to work. 

Disappointment sat heavy over her form like a stormy rain cloud. Y/N tried not to dwell on it, but as always her feelings were too strong to contain, so throughout the whole rest of the day she moved about the house wistful in demeanor. Yearning for Joel despite the fact he would be home in a few hours time. 

Was this usually how it happened when you start to feel this way towards someone? Like your whole world stops turning when they aren’t near? Whatever the case, she knew that these feelings were not to be taken lightly. There was a rarity to them that made her heart much more precious to the woman. She felt like she needed to keep it safe, deep in her pocket where no harm would find it, and no one would be able to see the extremities of her feelings.

And that’s where she kept it as her restless feet wandered into town. 

But as she walked, something funny happened. Everywhere she looked, everything seemed so much brighter. The people who passed her by greeted her with warm ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s’. Kids were laughing as they played in the street, laughing. There were lovers in front of shops holding hands and exchanging stolen kisses. Birds were singing. The sun was… shining? Everything that used to be dreary about the island, everything that Y/N hated, had somehow flipped to be the exact opposite of what it used to be. Or perhaps… it had always been like this and she just hadn’t noticed, too caught up in her own pretension and desperate need to escape. 

Perhaps this island really did live up to its name.

Why was it that she had just noticed this now? What had changed?

She thought of her beating heart, hidden in her deepest pocket. And then froze in her tracks. 

She was reminded of something. Something she had only heard in the old sea-shanties her father used to sing while he cooked. In the stories her mother used to whisper to her at bedtime. And that used to worm her way into her dreams late at night, planting the idea that she had to escape in the first place. She had to go find it. 

It was love.

And it hit her like a ton of bricks. 

Well, not the love part, that made sense to her as the loose ends were finally tied together. What surprised her the most was that she didn’t have to travel to the furthest reaches of the earth to find it. It had been on this very island the whole entire time. And it was fated to be shared with the man she was hell-bent against marrying. 

Incredulous laughter began to bubble out of her throat. So much so that she had to brace herself on her knees as she gasped for air. She was definitely living up to her reputation as the crazy woman, earning strange glances from passersby. But she didn’t care. She never cared. All she really cared about was burning passionate love, that’s what she had been yearning for all her life. And she was almost too stupid to realize that it was right under her nose.

Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong!

The clocktower in town was chiming at the start of the new hour. Five o’clock… It pulled Y/N out of her unexpected fit of laughter. Joel would be on his way home right at this very moment. And without thinking twice, the woman began to run.

~

Joel returned to an empty house. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as there were some days Y/N would be out in the garden, lounging on the porch swing she loved oh-so much, having lost track of time. He would always find her, caught in the middle of a fascinating passage, one she couldn’t tear her eyes from. The idea of dinner would not have crossed her mind, as it was often lost in the clouds.

He never minded that, though. In fact, he quite liked finding her like that because then it meant that he would get the chance to be by her side while they made their meal together. And he also couldn’t lie about the fact that he enjoyed seeing the image of her, so carefree, with her knees tucked beneath her, skin glowing underneath the evening sun. He would always take a moment to stop and watch her, drinking in the sight of her peace before having to force her out of it.

A small smile spread across his lips at the thought he’d catch her like that now. His heavy footfalls rang out into the quiet household as he crossed the floor towards the back door. His anticipation flickered deep in his stomach once more, excited to see her.

But he was left in disappointment and slight worry when he was greeted with the sight of an empty porch swing. It looked so much sadder without her presence, the loss of her making obvious the peeling white paint and rusted chains that made the furniture what it was. Lackluster without her. A feeling now all too familiar to Joel as he searched the rest of the house, finding empty room after empty room.

He had seen this before. Lived through it. Deja vu in the form of his ex wife whittled its way into his brain. He recalled the day he found her missing. How he felt when he realized she wasn’t coming back. This was so much worse. Because now it was Y/N.

The woman he had unexpectedly fallen for, head over heels. The woman who promised him she wouldn’t do the same and that she would stay right here with him in this house.

It must’ve been too much to ask for. Joel must have wanted too much. Taken too much. She must have come to her senses and realized the potential she was wasting in a marriage with an old man like him. Dread was quick to overtake him, he knew that much. But he had never been a lucky man. Everything he ever loved was always lost to him. Why would anything change now?

Joel found himself sitting on the front step of his porch, head clutched in his hands. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that brought him out there. Maybe he needed the fresh air to rid the panic in his lungs. Or maybe it was that flicker of hope that still burned within his heart. Maybe she would return home to him. If his hopes weren’t for nothing.

“Joel?”

His head snapped up to find Y/N standing in front of him. She was out of breath, a sheen of sweat covering her skin, causing her to glow brighter than she usually did. Her irises sparked with worry as she took in the sight of his hunched form on the porch. Though once he registered that she was really there, standing in front of him, he shot to his feet.

“Y/N.” He replied, his voice riddled with a confusing tone of surprised awe, eyes thick with relief. The girl’s brows furrowed. He took the remaining two steps down to where she stood, his hands bracing themselves on her shoulders.

“Where were you?” He questioned, somewhat angrily, though through that she could see a form of desperation hiding behind it all.

“I’m sorry I was— I just came from town.” She answered, having not yet fully caught her breath, the words were hushed between her overworked lungs. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He practically begged out the question. “I could’ve brought you home.”

“I’m sorry.” She said earnestly, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. “I didn’t think of it. I was in a hurry to get back.”

“Why?” 

She looked down at the ground between their feet, the distance between them small, soon to become even smaller, she was sure. A bashful smile crept up onto her lips. 

“I wanted to see you.” She murmured, eyes still averted as a slight heat pinched at her cheeks. Somehow it was much harder to face him, now that she had put a name to what she had been feeling.

Surprise stiffened her shoulders when Joel let out a harsh breath of relief, his head dropping into the crook of her neck, arms looping around her waist. She soon softened under his embrace, her fingers tangling within his sea-breeze tangled hair. 

“I thought you left.” He mumbled into her skin. Y/N’s stomach dropped at the hidden fear behind his words. She now understood completely where this strange new demeanor was coming from. She quickly shook her head, knowing Joel felt as she did when her cheekbone brushed against his ear in time with the movement.

“No.” She whispered. “No, I would never.”

His hold on her tightened with the words spoken. Y/N smoothed her hand over the back of his head, hoping it brought some form of comfort to the man.  As his shoulders began to relax, she knew that it did. She continued her reassurance.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N tilted her head towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should’ve come down to the docks.”

“Why didn’t you?” He asked, pulling back from his hiding spot, eyes searching for the answer. 

Y/N drew in a deep breath, the heat in her cheeks burning fiercer than before. She averted her gaze towards the gravel pathway, taking a step back so that possibly she could find her words within the created distance. Nerves, fairly quickly, took over her form.

“Well… to start, I think— pretty early on in our marriage you must have realized that I wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the whole ordeal.” She rambled as she began to pace, wild with her movements the way she was erratic with her words.

Joel opened his mouth to confirm, but she was speaking so fast that he never had the chance. So he watched on, almost incredulously, eyes following her as she paced back and forth in front of him, avoiding his gaze.

“I mean… I don’t think you were totally happy with it either, considering how we were at the beginning… —Anyways, none of that matters now.” Y/N waved her arms, trying to get rid of any more unnecessary words.

“The reason I was so unhappy— at first— was because I was so desperate to fall in love.” She continued, the last word ringing familiar in Joels ear. A smile perked up the corners of his mouth as realization dawned on him, patiently waiting for the girl to finish her rant.

“And I didn’t think an arranged marriage could have any possibility of that.” Y/N glanced quickly over at Joel, finding him nodding along in exaggerated understanding, strong arms crossed over his chest.

“But then a funny thing happened, when I was walking into town and I suddenly realized…” She stopped moving, facing the man head on as she said her peace. “I think I may be in love with you— No… I know that I’m in love with you.”

As he considered her— standing in front of him, with begging eyes and shaking hands— he bit back a brighter grin. With this onslaught of information he wasn’t exactly sure how he should say what he wanted to say. If the girl would even give him the chance to do so.

“And that’s why I didn’t meet you at the docks.” Y/N finished, quite lamely, hands raised out from her sides as if offering him the floor. Though, her arms flopped back down to their original position quickly after.

“So…” Joel started slowly, killing the woman with every second his pause dragged out. “You didn’t come to the docks… because you’re in love with me?”

“It would seem so.” She confirmed, her voice small with apprehension. “Do you have anything to say on the matter?”

“Just one thing.” He breathed, before taking a step forward, he looped an arm around her waist pulling her against him. A gasp fell from her lips at the eagerness in this action, her hands impulsively landing on his chest. Joel's other hand moved to rest on the side of her face, guiding her lips to slot against his in a deep-seated kiss. 

It was as if the entirety of her being were in her lips, like there was nothing else in the world as he pressed soft kisses to the plush skin. Kisses that somehow conveyed the entire range of how he felt towards her. The passion showed itself as he nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. The tenderness shown in the gentle caress of his tongue. The love being presented as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, it shining in the deep brown of his eyes.

“I love you too.” He confirmed what she saw within his irises, her heart swelling that she wasn’t on her own in feeling this way.

“I didn’t realize that’s what it was until I thought you were gone.” He told her, “I think I might’ve…”

His words trailed off, replaced with a deep breath as he pulled her in closer, as if making sure she was really there in his arms.

“I think I might’ve felt this way for a really long time.” He ended. Y/N smiled warmly up at him, tilting her head to brush her nose against his own.

“Me too.”

And neither one of them really knew exactly when that could have been. Perhaps it was the very first time they laid eyes on each other. Or during one of their many shared meals as they sat across from one another in comfortable silence. Or the distance that kept them apart by raging seas. Maybe it shifted with the constant storms that would rain down over their house. Or maybe it was written in the stars, destined to happen. Whatever the case, it didn’t really matter to them now as they melted back into each other, lips crashing in a great crescendo portraying exactly the burning passion this island was supposed to be known for. 

Their next movements were like a white blinding light as they forged through the front door of their home, shoes left behind,— the excitement that should’ve been present on their wedding night was now following them through the living room and up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s grip on Joel’s hand was strong as she pulled him down the hallway towards the master bedroom, but she still wasn’t strong enough to keep him moving when he stopped abruptly. She turned to face him.

“Wh—?” Her question was interrupted when he pressed her against the wall, his lips finding hers once more. A small squeak of surprise from the young woman was muffled by Joel’s kiss, swallowing it down. His hands were firm on her waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was hot to the touch. 

“Joel.” She moaned against his lips, the touch of his thumb rubbing slow circles into her skin sending bolts of electricity straight to her toes.

His name sounding like that coming from her was enough to have Joel’s entire being on fire. He could feel himself harden with every moan she gifted him, as well as his resolve weakening, patience wearing thin. 

Shifting his grip, his hands were now clutching at the back of Y/N’s bare thighs (since she had miraculously had the good sense to wear shorts today). On instinct, using the leverage of Joel’s grasp, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. The momentum of their bodies coming together had Joel stumbling backwards, back hitting the other wall. The artwork hanging on aging nails rattled in their frames, threatening to crash to the floor as they shook from the collision. Neither husband or wife paid this any mind as they clutched onto each other, lips still vehemently attached, moans and grunts being traded within their kiss.

Soon, Joel’s feet were moving once again, carrying Y/N over the threshold of his bedroom. Like a man was supposed to do with his bride, finally given the chance to do so. Though his grip almost slackened when she pulled her lips away from his, replacing them on the skin below his ear. He cursed under his breath as she began to suckle against a sweet spot he never even knew existed. 

Against all odds, he made it to the bed, falling backwards against the plush surface, springs squeaking under their combined weight. Y/N was not at all deterred by this new position, her forearms bracing themselves on either side of Joel's head as she kissed her way down his neck, hoping she was even half as good as Joel was at this sort of thing. 

She supposed she wasn’t half bad as his breathing was soon labored under the touch of her lips, thick fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt. She smiled against his skin, especially so when she finally lowered her hips down over his own, the sign of his enjoyment pressing harshly into her inner thigh. Y/N rolled her hips into him, hoping for that very same reaction she had gotten the first time she did this. With no surprise at all, she prevailed.

“Shit—.” He hissed, hands darting to grip at her hips. “Wait.” 

Somehow he was strong enough to still her movements. Or maybe Y/N couldn’t help but obey the words said by this man. In either case, time began to slow down, their frantic movements ceasing. Y/N pushed up on her hands, sitting back on her heels so that she could meet his gaze. Joel’s hands found their home on the skin of her thighs, thumbs instinctively rubbing those soothing circles once again.

He drew in a breath, staring up at her with soft brown eyes. “Have you ever done this before?”

A shy look flitted across the woman's pretty features, her bashful smile weakened as her bottom lip was tugged between her lips. She shook her head, eyes trained to the top button of Joel’s shirt.

He swallowed against a newly dry throat as he realized she was willing to give him everything. Pink swelling up into his cheeks when his cock convulsed at the thought. Surely she had to have felt that, the gasp slipping from her lips proving that she did.  

“I… I don’t wanna rush you into doing anything you’re not ready for.” Joel murmured, “We can take it as slow as you need.”

Y/N offered him a sweet smile at his words, her fingers toying with that button she had her eye on. They were trembling slightly, not out of fear but instead a steady form of anticipation.

“We’ve been married for almost a year now.” She responded, her tone soft. “I think we’ve taken it slow enough.” 

“Alright then.” Joel responded in that same tone, a small smile matching her own, his heart lurching at what was to come next. 

And he could have easily slipped back into the pace they had set when they had crashed into the room. His desires were certainly begging him to do so. But this was their first time indulging in this act as a married couple— her first time at all. So despite the protests of his aching body, Joel would take his time, offer every part of himself to her and hope she would offer the same. 

He smoothed his hand up her thigh, carving his way up to rest his fingers behind her ear, thumb against her cheek. Without much force at all, he guided her gently until their lips were touching once again, this time in a slower kiss. She relaxed against him, chest resting on his. A small whimper escaped the back of her throat at the tenderness of it all.

The small noise spurred Joel into rolling Y/N onto her back, flipping the preexisting roles, covering her with the shadow of his form. His hands were braced on the plush surface beside her head, holding his weight above her. His knee was positioned between her thighs. She was a whimpering mess, grinding up into him, desperate to relieve the ache between her legs. Joel couldn’t help the smirk that appeared over his lips. The bold woman who was kissing down his neck just a mere few minutes ago was long gone. A dark part of him took pleasure at the sight of her like this, desperate for him. It didn’t help how pretty she was splayed underneath him, eyes darkened with lust, bottom lip trembling, hips rutting towards the thigh that was too far away from where she wanted him.

He wouldn’t give it to her. Not yet at least. He was going to take his time. He set his hand against her hip, forcing her to stop her movements, holding her in place.

Lowering himself towards her, he brushed his lips across Y/N’s in a quick kiss. He placed another on the apple of her cheek. Another on her temple. And again at the corner of her mouth. He was moving so slow that she could feel the flutter of his eyelashes tickling her skin. She sighed at each kiss, relishing in his attentiveness. 

She was cold when he removed himself from her, standing up at the side of the bed. Even more so when his hands lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Her nipples were pebbled against the white lace of her bra, made more obvious as she leaned up on her elbows. His darkened eyes roamed over her body, no inch left undiscovered. His fingers continued to do their work of revealing more, when he popped open the button of her shorts. The garment soon discarded on the floor with her shirt. 

All that she was left in was her undergarments, grateful she had put on a matching set that morning. Joel stood fully clothed in front of her, on unequal ground but somehow the thought excited her. She could feel herself flush behind the skin of her cheeks, turning her head so she could hide behind the back of her hand.

“Don’t hide from me, darlin’” He whispered, catching her in the act, fingers clasping around her wrist. She complied letting the limb fall back to its original position. She dared herself to meet his strong gaze as he continued, another gasp swirling into the air when he spread her thighs, the wetness between her legs more obvious once the cold air contrasted with the heat of her arousal. 

“Look at you…” Joel groaned, toying with the hem of her panties where her thigh met her center, the fleeting touch of his fingers causing her hips to twitch up towards him. He watched her restlessness with slight amusement, though he granted her some form of relief as he dipped his pointer finger into her soaked panties. Though he only did so to pull the fabric away from her burning heat, and a second later he let it snap back down, the sound louder than expected as it smacked against her folds. 

“Don’t do that.” Y/N whined, squirming under his teasing.

“What? You don’t like it?” He did it again, causing the girl to jolt up further on the bed. She whined once, but she didn’t exactly have any words to argue with him. She sort of did like his teasing. But impatience was taking over her.

“I— I think I’m ready.” She breathed heavily through her nose as his fingers continued to play around with the fabric of her panties. 

“Ready?” He questioned, brows furrowed.

“Ready for you to— for your…” She stammered, embarrassment flooding her senses as she couldn’t find how to put it.

“For my cock?” He finished for her. She squeaked at the unexpected harshness of his words, but was pleased by the sharp ache that probed at her core. 

“Mhm.” She nodded, shutting her eyes, almost as if bracing herself. 

They shot back open at the sound of Joel’s soft laughter filling the room, she was greeted with the sight of his bright smile, his head shaking.

“What?” Y/N asked, slightly perturbed at the fact he was laughing at her. He only shook his head, bending to loop an arm around her waist, shifting her body with ease so that she now lay properly on the bed, head sinking into the plush material of his pillows. She huffed in annoyance, lifting herself up back on her elbows so that he could feel the full force of her glare. 

“You’re not even close to ready for me, sweetheart.” He told her, a strong knee propped on the bed. His fingers were working on the buttons of his dark green shirt, revealing a smattering of hair that was once hidden by its confines. Y/N paused as she hungrily drank in the reveal of his skin, but was soon disappointed when he stopped at the third button down. Any complaints she had were lost on her tongue when he swung his other leg onto the bed, trapping the woman between his knees as he sat above her. 

He looked like a god in this position. Skin shining under the sunlight that slid into the room in its golden hour, the shadows of his strong features accentuated. She wasn’t sure if she should cower under his might, she was more grateful to be bestowed with this sight of him. Ready to sacrifice anything to him.

“I feel ready.” She murmured up to him, “Want you inside of me, Joel.”

An unanticipated shiver shot up the length of Joel's spine at her admission, his erection growing harsher within the limits of his underwear. He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head as if he had to deliberately make the move to hold himself back.

“I want that too, baby.” He mumbled, shifting to smooth his hands down the expanse of her stomach, needing his hands on her in some shape or form. “But ‘m too big for you.”

“Too big?” Y/N parroted her eyes widening. He nodded.

“Have t’ get you ready for me.” He relayed, “Especially since you’ve never had anythin' up there before.”

“Yes I have.” She countered, her tone becoming more defiant. Joel stilled at her words, knowing that could only mean one thing.

“Your fingers?” He swallowed against the words. Y/N’s shy demeanor returned, she looked away.

“Yes.” She said, her voice small.

Joel held back a groan threatening at the back of his throat, the image of her playing with herself, cumming around her fingers, forcing its way to the forefront of his mind. He could feel as more precum leaked out of his tip, slicking against his skin. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears.

“It’s not gonna be the same.” He strained, shaking his head.

“Will it hurt?” 

“A little… at first.” He told her honestly, “That’s why I need you to be ready for me. It’ll hurt you less and I… just wanna make you feel good.”

Y/N softened at the earnest look in Joel’s eyes as he spoke, her heartbeat hammering in her chest with how much care he was providing for her. 

“Okay.” She relented, her hands moving up to grasp at the bottom of his shirt, tugging him towards her. He followed her movements with no resistance, leaning down to kiss her, deep and steady. 

“Make me feel good then.” She whispered into his lips.

“As you wish.”  He replied, in the same hushed tone.

Joel sat back on his heels, admiring her in the golden light for just a second longer before he started. They held each other’s stare, the love they confessed blooming in the air between them, warming their bones, making their hearts beat in time. 

His touch was light as he slid her panties down her legs, losing the piece of fabric somewhere on the bed behind him. He placed a featherlight kiss across her collarbone as he unclasped her bra, her back arching into him so he had the room to remove it. He tossed it in the same aimless direction. And when he sat back, she was bare to him. 

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, tracing his knuckles down her sternum to her belly button, she shivered under his touch, or maybe from the compliment. 

Then he placed himself gently on the pillow beside her. He brought a large hand to her chin, tilting her head to the side so that she’d meet his gaze. Kissing her lips gently, he slid that same hand down the length of her stomach until his fingers were pressing into her pubic mound. He pulled away from her lips, so he could see every little reaction that she had for him.

Her pretty lips fell open when he dipped his fingers lower, collecting the wetness that was pooling at her entrance. He hummed at how wet she was, the slick covering his two fingers when he brought them back up to rub circles into her clit. A moan was instantly pulled from her, her body jolting at the sensation, breasts bouncing as she did. Joel drank in every minute of it. 

And once he knew she was completely ready, he finally slipped a finger inside of her. 

Y/N sucked in a harsh breath, she wasn’t expecting his finger to feel so large inside of her. But it was nothing to what she had felt before when she tried something like this on her own. She felt so full with just the use of his finger, stretching her out so resolutely, that she wondered how it would feel once it was the real thing. She was whimpering once again due to Joel’s actions, her hands shot up to grasp at Joel’s bicep, his shirt taut over the flexing muscle. 

“You want another finger?” He asked into her temple.

“Y-yes.” She breathed, already wanting more from him. And he wasn’t going to deny her of what she wanted. So he added the second finger, the obscene sound of it squelching into the air. He changed the position of his hand, as well, his thumb now prodding at her clit whenever he thrust his hand back into her.

Y/N’s hips moved in time with each of Joel’s movements, even as he sped up, the sound of his palm smacking against her wetness growing louder and louder. Her moans were now tumbling over her tongue at a constant rate, her head thrown back against the pillow.

Joel’s eyes were still watchful over her, he gaped at how beautiful she looked, coming undone with only the use of his fingers. He couldn’t stop from grinding himself into her hip, moving at the same pace as his fingers, too turned on by her to try and hold back.

His own moans were muffled when he started kissing at her neck, and then down the soft flesh of her breasts, until he flicked his tongue over her sensitive nipple.

That was the beginning of Y/N’s breaking point. Him curling his fingers inside of her, probing at a small spongy spot hidden deep inside of her, was the end. 

Her orgasm ripped through her like a freight train, her cum splashing itself onto Joel’s palm. Her legs couldn’t stop shaking, even when he pulled his digits out of her. He chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. On instinct she curled into him, fingers clutching at the lapels of his shirt, her body still trembling as she floated back down from the sky. 

“How was that?” He questioned, holding her tighter against him. She could feel her own slick on his fingers as they pressed into her lower back. 

“Good.” She said into the crook of his neck, voice shaky, earning another laugh from the man. 

“We can stop now, if you want.” He told her, lips pressed into her hair. 

Y/N pushed against his chest, freeing herself from her previous hiding spot. She looked at him with furrowed brows and found nothing but honesty and adoration flickering across his irises. God, he really would stop for her, if she asked him too. In fact, the look he was giving her told her that he would do anything for her. She let out a frustrated breath, surely he wasn’t so stupid to think that she wouldn’t do the same for him. 

“I don’t want to stop.” She said, genuine with her words. Maybe a bit too forceful as she sat up.

“O-okay.” Joel relinquished, eyes wide at her eagerness, following her in the action of sitting up, his back now straightened.

“It’s slightly unfair, you know.” Y/N then said, placing a hand to the center of his chest, pushing lightly so that he would rest against the headboard. There was no resistance, he did as she said. 

“What is?” Joel inquired, his breathing quickening as Y/N sat on her knees beside his hip. His eyes were trained to the crease between her thigh and waist, relishing in her every curve. It was a cruel reminder of his hardened cock trapped in his pants, twitching at the sight. He didn’t even notice as her hands started to unbutton his shirt. That was until she started kissing at each newly revealed piece of skin. He sucked in a harsh breath at the touch of her lips.

“You always get to see me like that.” She said between kisses. And he could’ve argued that it had only ever been twice, but he didn’t want to know what would happen if he interrupted her wrath. “And yet you always hide from me.”

“I don’t hide from you.” Joel countered, his knuckles white from his grip on the sheets beneath him. “You’re just not the opportunist like I am.” 

A surge of pride spread out under Joel’s skin as Y/N’s sweet laughter bubbled into the air. The sound of it doing as much to him as her moans did. He loved hearing her laugh. Like it was proof that she was actually happy with him. Though he supposed the proof was right in front of him, as she continued to leave loving kisses across his chest.

Joel’s shirt was finally discarded, granting Y/N the sight she had been desperate to see for so long. A beauty to behold. He wasn’t exactly all hard lines and jagged edges. But he was strong and large, and soft in the places he needed to be. His skin was tanned and taut over muscles that could only be carved by the waves of a raging sea. But there were scars left behind, probably a result of tragedies endured on his countless journeys. Y/N left a soft kiss over each one.

And then her hands were soon preoccupied by a new task, the metal parts of his belt clanking against each other as she removed the constriction.

Joel waited with bated breath. He had to force himself not to ask if she was really sure about this. Because if she wasn’t, she definitely would not be slowly sliding open the zipper to his pants. Or then tugging them down his thick thighs, revealing the black fabric of his boxer briefs. And she definitely would not now be palming at the bulge between his legs. Which she was.

A groan fell from his lips once she had her hand squeezing at his erection. His hips jutted forward into her palm, his need for her touch too obvious for his own good. His eyes flickered up to find a look of pure wonder on the woman’s features, maybe she was surprised she could elicit such reactions from him. 

“Feel’s s’ good, baby.” He reassured, the words falling from his lips between soft grunts of pleasure. Y/N’s eyes snapped up to meet his. He stared back, lids hooded over darkened eyes overblown with lust. His hips were now rolling up into her hand, over and over, unable to stop.

“Really?” She squeaked.

“Yeah.” He grunted out, any coherent sentences lost to him as lust overtook him. Especially when her fingers hooked around the hem of his underpants, pushing them down to follow the path of his pants.

He gasped when the cold air hit his burning erection.

She gasped at the sight of it.

His cock sprang up once it was finally free from its confines, the tip hitting his lower belly, leaving behind a splotch of precum against his skin. And Joel was right… he was big. It was thick, just like the rest of him, with protruding veins running up the side. The head of it was red and angry, shining with the proof of his arousal. 

And surprisingly, despite the aggressive look of his erection, the woman wasn’t scared like she thought she’d be. Instead she was drawn to it. Drawn to him. Because she was drawn to every part of him. So there was no time wasted when her smaller hand wrapped around his length.

Joel cursed under his breath, head falling back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just the touch of her hand already had him weak, ready to unravel. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last once he finally felt the tight confines of her cunt fluttering around him. So for now he enjoyed the soft touch of her hand, closing his eyes as her thumb spread his precum over the tip with gentle touches. 

She was slow with her movements, which was alright by Joel. It granted him time to breathe, as well as the fact that this was the first time she’s ever done anything like this. He didn't need to move any faster than this if she didn't want to. His arousal sat low in his belly, happily waiting in the anticipation. 

Though, his blood spiked when he felt the wet touch of her tongue against the head of his cock.

“W-what are you doin’?” He asked, head snapping up to find her crouched down at his waist, hands splayed out on his thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes, tongue still unyielding against him. It was a sight he had dreamt about and longed for, but he never expected her to do anything like this tonight.

“You did this for me, right?” Y/N said between the tiny kitten licks she administered,  “‘m only returning the favor.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He replied, shaking his head slightly. He brought a hand to her jawline, ready to pull her away from his erection, “You don’t owe me anythin’.”

“Okay… Well then it’s because I want to.” She countered, ignoring the presence of his hand and dipping her head downwards again. This time she wrapped her moistened lips over the entire tip. 

“Fuck.” He hissed into the air, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. He tried to be gentle with his grip, knowing she was new to all of this, but it was increasingly difficult to do so. Especially when she hummed in pleasure around his cock, seemingly relishing in the slight pain of having her hair pulled. She swirled her tongue around him, pulling a stuttering whimper from his lips.

She looked up at him at the sound. His head was thrown back once again, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, he was breathing harshly through his nose, his handsome features twisted with euphoria. And it was all because of her. 

Y/N felt as more wetness pooled between her legs and dripped down her inner thighs, she squirmed slightly as her arousal increased once again. As it turned out, she seemed to like having Joel like this, writhing under her in immense pleasure, whimpering from the touch of her tongue. She wondered if this is how he felt when he did the same thing to her. If he was this hard in her mouth because he gained pleasure from her pleasure. The thought spurred her on, moving her mouth further down his length.

Another deep groan rumbled out from his chest, eliciting a sound of affirmation from the woman, the vibration of her vocal chords shooting electricity through his body. He glanced back down at her, watching as she took him in as deep as she could.

“God, you look s’ pretty like that.”

And she did. Her mouth around his rigid cock, tears filling her eyes as he pushed deeper down her throat, her pupils blown out with need for him. He could cum to that sight. No— he was going to cum at the sight. He could feel the coil deep in his core about to snap as she continued. But he wasn’t going to let it end here. 

“W-wait. Please, darlin’, you have to stop.” Joel said softly, as he gently pulled her off of him, Y/N’s features held a look of confusion and disappointment. 

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked as he pulled her into his lap, his burning shaft now pressing nicely against the curve of her backside. He could feel how wet she was as she pressed her center into his lower abdomen, soaking the coarse hair spattered across the skin there. 

“No.” He shook his head, “No, you were absolutely perfect, sweetheart. I just… I want to be inside you before I finish.”

“Oh.” Y/N smiled shyly, her head dipping down in slight embarrassment. “Okay.”

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” He asked tenderly, placing kisses onto her cheeks. She closed her eyes against his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding her head.

Soon she was on her back, head surrounded by Joel’s fluffy pillows. The sun had slowly dipped further down towards the horizon, only leaving a little bit of light left in the room. It was soft and gentle, caressing the two of them in dimming shades of blue. Joel braced himself over her, bicep flexing when he lowered himself to leave a kiss against her lips. 

“I’ll start slow.” He whispered to her afterwards, leaning his forehead onto hers, a large hand smoothing over her outer thigh. The pressure of his fingertips were somehow soft within his guiding grasp, positioning her leg over his hip. A shock of pleasure erupted in Y/N’s core as she felt the length of Joel’s cock nestle in between her folds at this new position. Joel’s shoulders trembled, breathing growing heavy, his reaction to the same thing.

Y/N’s own breath hitched in her throat as Joel’s hands snaked between them. He wrapped his calloused fingers around his shaft, guiding the tip through Y/N’s slit and brushing it lightly against her clit. Simultaneous gasps intermingled in the air between their lips as they relished in the sensation. 

“Joel.” Y/N whimpered, the unsaid words begging for more. He only nodded in return, his attention locked on the space between their hips, slowly growing smaller as he finally pushed the head of his cock inside of her.

Y/N could immediately tell the difference between this and his fingers. Before was barely anything compared to this. Now she was finally full, finally complete. And it was only the beginning as Joel slowly pushed himself deeper.

She whined at the stretch of him, fingernails scratching over his back. Joel wasn’t any better, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, releasing the most sinful of moans as he was slowly sucked in by her tight, wet warmth. The feel of her around him was more incredible than he imagined. So much so that he pushed in faster than intended, earning a sharp gasp from the woman beneath him. He stilled, immediately.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away from her neck to gauge her true reaction. Her eyes were shut, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“‘m alright.” She replied, her heavy breathing causing her sensitive nipples to brush against Joel's chest, another spark of arousal surged through her bones. Another harsh moan was released from the man above her.

“Shit— baby, don’t do that.” He gritted his teeth.

Unknown to Y/N, when that bout of pleasure had traveled the length of her body, she had clenched around him at the sensation. The instance of which made Joel feel as though he might burst into flames. His cock jerked inside of her, the coil returning, slowly starting to unravel. 

“Think you can take any more?” Joel questioned, once he could calm his beating heart as much as he could have.

“There’s more?” She stammered, confused since she already felt so full.

“Y-yeah there’s more.” Joel told her, trying his hardest not to move an inch, the task becoming increasingly difficult. Y/N released a shuddering breath.

“Yeah.” She nodded, “I can take it.”

“That’s my girl.” Joel chuckled airily, the affirmation causing a nice pool of warmth to settle in Y/N’s belly. But the feeling was soon replaced by the head of Joel’s cock as it moved deeper inside of her, the length of him making her believe he was truly proding into her stomach. 

Slowly but surely the rest of him was sheathed inside of her, proven by the soft tickle of his pubic hair against her inner thighs. Joel let himself rest inside of her, allowing her to adjust to his size, his breathing deep and heavy as her walls squeezed around his cock. 

She started squirming beneath him, desperate for him to do more.

“Please Joel.” She whimpered, “Move.”

“You want me to move, sweetheart?” He murmured, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth, her desperation causing something wicked within him to start teasing. 

“Y-yes please, Joel. I need you.” She breathed, squeezing around him again. “Want you to fuck me.”

Joel’s entire body lurched at the words that slipped from her tongue. His heart hammering against his ribcage as it was completely unexpected. It caught him off guard, but he regained his bearings quickly, shaking free from the surprise as he took enjoyment from her dirty language.

“You do, huh?” He mumbled back, feeling her nod into his shoulder. “Is that what you want? For me t’ fuck you?”

“Yes.” She whined, a bit impatiently, more soft chuckles tumbled out of his lips.

“Okay, sweetheart.” He answered, “Anythin’ for you.”

And then he started moving. Slowly, so torturously slowly, sliding out until it was just his head that was left inside of her. Then, just as slowly he would sink all the way back in. He did that over and over again, causing an onslaught of pleasure to rip through the girl as the grooves of his cock carved into her walls so deliciously. She was a mess beneath him, shuddering and gasping with each slow movement he made.

Y/N arched into him, hands grasping at his back as he dipped his head, placing a kiss to her shoulder, moaning softly into her skin. Pleasure radiated throughout her body at every point of contact his skin had with hers, burning the brightest where the two of them connected. Even more so as Joel started to gradually speed up, still making long deep thrusts, but a little faster each time.

The bed started creaking beneath them, mixing in with the sound of their sensual moans as well as their skin slapping together in time with Joel’s thrusts. A cacophony of pleasure swirling around the room and serenading this moment as they finally connected in the way they always wanted to. 

The sting of Joel’s size was now long forgotten as Y/N savored in the pleasure of him. Her arms were wound tightly around his neck, holding his head into her shoulder. She could feel his lips pressing into her skin, leaving deliberate kisses after each thrust. Her legs soon followed the same pattern as her arms, looping around his waist, pulling his body in close. Now there was no part of them left untouching. 

His own arm soon snaked around her waist, drawing her in even closer if that was possible, her clit now firmly pressed against his pelvic bone. Y/N threw her head back with a deep moan, Joel’s lips attaching to her neck in record time. The heat low in her stomach returned from before, signifying that everything soon would come crashing down in a crescendo. 

Joel’s cock twitched inside of her as he felt her walls fluttering around him. His own impending orgasm weighing heavy in his chest. He pulled his lips away from her skin.

“Look at me.” He said softly, despite the fact that his thrusts became sloppier by the second, his pace staggering as he involuntarily thrusted harder inside of her.

Y/N— despite struggling under the onslaught of her own oncoming orgasm, opened her eyes for him, meeting his soft brown gaze as they chased their highs. It was strange to see that gaze in this context, especially since the first time she saw it she would have never guessed this is where it would bring her. But now that she was here she couldn’t ask for anything she wanted more.

Except for one thing.

“Kiss me.” She said in return, and since Joel couldn’t deny her of anything, he did just that, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. The touch of it sending Y/N over the edge.

Joel felt as she came around his cock, squeezing onto him like a velvet vice, her cum gushing out around the base of him, soaking his skin. He moaned deep and heavy at the sensation, his own orgasm on the precipice. He placed his thumb on Y/N’s clit— hoping that will be enough to help her down from her high— as he pulled himself out of her.

He grunted with each spurt of cum splattering itself onto Y/N’s stomach, his free hand tight around his shaft, the length of it jerking in his hand. His thighs tensed as his orgasm shot out from his hips, shoulders trembling from the pleasure of it all, his heart racing.

Then, as the euphoria began to fade, his legs were weak as he sat back on his knees, chest heaving as he looked down at the mess he made on his beautiful wife. 

His cum was shining white against her skin, the gleam of it reflecting in the moonlight as her stomach moved up and down with each passing of her shallow breaths. Her limbs were limp against the mattress, eyes hooded as exhaustion took over her form. He smiled softly at the sight of her, sliding a hand underneath her to bring her up to his level. He pulled her into his lap, holding her flush against his chest—  not caring that his cum was now smeared across his own stomach.

“You did so well, sweetheart.” He whispered to her, stroking his knuckles across her cheekbone, she leaned into his touch, humming in content. Joel leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead.

They sat like that for a minute, savoring the silence between them and the embrace of their lover. But it didn't last too long as Joel spoke once more.

“Come on.” He abruptly said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, taking Y/N with him as he did. She whined when she realized she was being pulled away from the comfort of a warm bed.

“What? Why? I wanna sleep.” She argued when her feet hit the wooden floor beside his own, moving to dive back under the covers. He caught hold of her before she could.

“We gotta wash up.” Joel countered, pulling her towards the door that sat in the corner of the room, the mystery (that was not so mysterious) soon to be revealed.

“And then we can go to bed?” She questioned, as her shaking legs became more willing to follow him

“Not quite.” Joel grinned, guiding her into the shower. When she offered him a look of confusion at his words, he answered the question written on her face.

“We still have to make dinner.”

And soon, after all the proof of their passion was washed clean from their skin, underneath swirling puffs of cedar-scented steam and occasionally interrupted by stolen kisses, the two of them made their way down to their kitchen. And an hour later, as they sat across the table from one another, under the golden glow of their kitchen light. They divulged in their carefully prepared meal, sharing shy smiles and fleeting glances between each bite. The sight of them alone contradicting any statement that the island they resided on didn’t live up to its name. 

~~~

A/N: honestly this fic was born because of the smut scene in the kitchen, i can't lie 😩 and then i rewatched the music video for adore you by harry styles so i wanted this oneshot to be something romantic and whimsical in it's nature, so i hope that came across. Is it corny? yes! but I had so much fun writing this so i hope you had fun too!!! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work !! and now i'll be leaving, goodbye forever!! <33

[wandasfifthwife]

silence leads to destruction

paring: CEO!Wanda x reader

tw: estblashed relationship (married), r sells art pieces to make money, r is scared of rejection and spirals over nothing, strong heavy fluff, hurt/comfort, happy ending, minor injury (r), reader cuts finger with a knife on cutting board, sappy love confessions bc i said so, suggestive comment at the end but nothing happens

a/n: hi! I wanted to dabble in writing something for Wanda that ISNT smut for once. I read this over once to notice any big mistakes, but it’s not thoroughly proofread. As always, enjoy my shitty writing! 🥳

* золотце = sweetheart and жизнь моя = my world

‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿

With love comes understanding, usually.

That’s how conversation was direct between the two of you, it eased your nerves knowing that she would validate any issue you brought to her and wish to talk it through. Mainly they were initiated by Wanda, but you both took the time to mention if something were upsetting you.

This is the first time it’s crumbled since you’ve been married. It might be because it felt it was directed at you and not just an accident like leaving the water on.

She had just arrived home, finding you making dinner.

“Hey,” she kisses your cheek, smiling into it when you lean into her body.

“Hey you,” you turn your face to kiss her properly, “how was work?”

She grumbles as usual, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“A new hire ruined our campaign by sending in the draft files to the company.”

“I’m sorry baby.”

She re-positions the knife in your hands to not aim over your fingers before continuing, “skill sets are crucial to know during the hiring process, and yet people still lie on applications and say they’re detailed and reliable when in reality they’re aloof and spontaneous.”

It felt stupid to be hurt by her words only because you had something in common with the new hire, your personalities.

“I wouldn’t say they’re lacking basic thinking skills,” you spoke, beginning to defend yourself through the employee, “just a mistake.”

“It could’ve been avoided if they had looked it over twice, but they didn’t and now we may have just lost over 20 grand.”

“It’s a mistake, we make them all the time. I know you’re thinking of firing them, but why not give them a chance?”

“I did and they messed it up again.”

“Why is this hire any different than the others who make mistakes?”

“It’s not just a simple mistake, золотце, it’s a personality difficulty. The others in the department have made a similar mistake once during their ten year term while they’ve made three within their first month.”She moves around you to help stir around the food on the stove, “it would’ve been excused if they were a personality hire.”

An ugly apprehension settled within yourself, “so if someone’s personality gets in the way of work you fire them?”

She agrees from behind you, taking care to turn the nob down so the food doesn’t burn, unaware of how you were blinking away tears.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, but your mind was nothing short of cruel. Often it would have its way and twist words Wanda has said into something entirely different.

All stemming from the motion that she would find out how terrible you were and leave, and you didn’t want her to leave.

You settled on keeping it to yourself, already feeling like you’ve used up all your sympathy cards for this week. Not wanting to seem needy for her affection, you shut it off.

“How was your day, жизнь моя?”

“Good, I can’t complain. I made a couple sales.”

She turned back to face you, “I’m so proud of you.”

She was leaving with a phone pressed to her ear. Undoing the knot the new hire had caused was going to take up her time outside of her office hours.

She paced around the room, tone tense and trying not to yell. Your blurry attention stayed on the dinner in front of you as you tried to look as if everything wasn’t falling apart internally.

Was she going to leave you alone if she found out you made faulty mistakes too?

You gasped with the knife cut through your index finger and everything was just too much. You were quick to turn your back to Wanda, finding the sink and running cold water over the cut.

Tears fell down your face until it had turned into a quiet sob. It was entirely unfair to compare her like the others, she loved you, but the past was cruel in reminding you how things had tended to end. You were entirely too aware of when she ended the call and how the room went silent when she realized you were crying.

“What’s wrong,” she coos, placing a hand on your back as she comes beside you.

“I just cut my finger open again,” you deflect, trying and hoping your smile would be enough but after 5 years together you should have known she’d be able to tell.

The hand on your back moved to your waist, pulling your back to rest against her chest. She reached from behind you, grabbing a towel and holding it over your small cut.

“I’m not mad at you,” she murmured into your neck, kissing it gently, “and I’m certainly not leaving you.”

“But I don’t think the way you do, I’m not detailed about anything. You married the wrong person.”

She called your name, spinning you to face her. “I never want to hear you say that again. I have never once thought I married the wrong person, do not ever think or say that again.”

You apologize, body timid in her hold. She moves her head so you look her back in the eyes, “I love you. I love your expressions when you’re painting, I love waking beside you in the morning, I love how careful you are with others.”

She continues her ramble, tears building in her own eyes, another cry forming in your throat at the sight of her getting worked up.

“I love you too,” you whisper and she smiles, moving forward to kiss you. Your arms wrap around her, tilting your head to kiss deeper. Her hands grab your waist and push you into her as it turns into something more.

“I want to show you how much I love you,” she whispers against your lips. It made you smile, whispering against hers of how you needed her to.

[writingwithcolor]

My alternate universe fantasy colonial Hong Kong is more authoritarian and just as racist but less homophobic than in real life, should I change that?

@floatyhands asked:

I’m a Hongkonger working on a magical alternate universe dystopia set in what is basically British colonial Hong Kong in the late 1920s. My main character is a young upper middle-class Eurasian bisexual man.  I plan to keep the colony’s historical racial hierarchy in this universe, but I also want the fantasy quirks to mean that unlike in real life history, homosexuality was either recently decriminalized, or that the laws are barely enforced, because my boy deserves a break. Still, the institutions are quite homophobic, and this relative tolerance might not last. Meanwhile, due to other divergences (e.g. eldritch horrors, also the government’s even worse mishandling of the 1922 Seamen's Strike and the 1925 Canton-Hong Kong Strike), the colonial administration is a lot more authoritarian than it was in real history. This growing authoritarianism is not exclusive to the colony, and is part of a larger global trend in this universe.  I realize these worldbuilding decisions above may whitewash colonialism, or come off as choosing to ignore one colonial oppression in favor of exaggerating another. Is there any advice as to how I can address this issue? (Maybe I could have my character get away by bribing the cops, though institutional corruption is more associated with the 1960s?) Thank you!

Historical Precedent for Imperialistic Gay Rights

There is a recently-published book about this topic that might actually interest you: Racism And The Making of Gay Rights by Laurie Marhoefer (note: I have yet to read it, it’s on my list). It essentially describes how the modern gay rights movement was built from colonialism and imperialism. 

The book covers Magnus Hirschfeld, a German sexologist in the early 1900s, and (one of) his lover(s), Li Shiu Tong, who he met in British Shanghai. Magnus is generally considered to have laid the groundwork for a lot of gay rights, and his research via the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft was a target of Nazi book-burnings, but he was working with imperial governments in an era where the British Empire was still everywhere. 

Considering they both ended up speaking to multiple world leaders about natural human sexual variation both in terms of intersex issues and sexual attraction, your time period really isn’t that far off for people beginning to be slightly more open-minded—while also being deeply imperialist in other ways.

The thing about this particular time period is homosexuality as we know it was recently coming into play, starting with the trial of Oscar Wilde and the rise of Nazism. But between those two is a pretty wildly fluctuating gap of attitudes.

Oscar Wilde’s trial is generally considered the period where gay people, specifically men who loved men, started becoming a group to be disliked for disrupting social order. It was very public, very scandalous, and his fall from grace is one of the things that drove so many gay and/or queer men underground. It also helped produce some of the extremely queercoded classical literature of the Victorian and Edwardian eras (ex: Dracula), because so many writers were exploring what it meant to be seen as such negative forces. A lot of people hated Oscar Wilde for bringing the concept to such a public discussion point, when being discreet had been so important.

But come the 1920s, people were beginning to wonder if being gay was that bad, and Mangus Hirschfeld managed to do a world tour of speaking come the 1930s, before all of that was derailed by wwii. He (and/or Li Shiu Tong) were writing papers that were getting published and sent to various health departments about how being gay wasn’t an illness, and more just an “alternative” way of loving others. 

This was also the era of Boston Marriages where wealthy single women lived together as partners (I’m sure there’s an mlm-equivalent but I cannot remember or find it). People were a lot less likely to care if you kept things discreet, so there might be less day to day homophobia than one would expect. Romantic friendships were everywhere, and were considered the ideal—the amount of affection you could express to your same-sex best friend was far above what is socially tolerable now.

Kaz Rowe has a lot of videos with cited bibliographies about various queer disasters [affectionate] of the late 1800s/early 1900s, not to mention a lot of other cultural oddities of the Victorian era (and how many of those attitudes have carried into modern day) so you can start to get the proper terms to look it up for yourself.

I know there’s a certain… mistrust of specifically queer media analysts on YouTube in the current. Well. Plagiarism/fact-creation scandal (if you don’t know about the fact-creation, check out Todd in the Shadows). I recommend Kaz because they have citations on screen and in the description that aren’t whole-cloth ripped off from wikipedia’s citation list (they’ve also been published via Getty Publications, a museum press). 

For audio-preferring people (hi), a video is more accessible than text, and sometimes the exposure to stuff that’s able to pull exact terms can finally get you the resources you need. If text is more accessible, just jump to the description box/transcript and have fun. Consider them and their work a starting place, not a professor. 

There is always a vulnerability in learning things, because we can never outrun our own confirmation bias and we always have limited time to chase down facts and sources—we can only do our best and be open to finding facts that disprove what we researched prior.

Colonialism’s Popularity Problem

Something about colonialism that I’ve rarely discussed is how some colonial empires actually “allow” certain types of “deviance” if that deviance will temporarily serve its ends. Namely, when colonialism needs to expand its territory, either from landing in a new area or having recently messed up and needing to re-charm the population.

By that I mean: if a fascist group is struggling to maintain popularity, it will often conditionally open its doors to all walks of life in order to capture a greater market. It will also pay its spokespeople for the privilege of serving their ends, often very well. Authoritarians know the power of having the token supporter from a marginalized group on payroll: it both opens you up directly to that person’s identity, and sways the moderates towards going “well they allow [person/group] so they can’t be that bad, and I prefer them.”

Like it or not, any marginalized group can have its fascist members, sometimes even masquerading as the progressives. Being marginalized does not automatically equate to not wanting fascism, because people tend to want fascist leaders they agree with instead of democracy and coalition building. People can also think that certain people are exaggerating the horrors of colonialism, because it doesn’t happen to good people, and look, they accept their friends who are good people, so they’re fine. 

A dominant fascist group can absolutely use this to their advantage in order to gain more foot soldiers, which then increases their raw numbers, which puts them in enough power they can stop caring about opening their ranks, and only then do they turn on their “deviant” members. By the time they turn, it’s usually too late, and there’s often a lot of feelings of betrayal because the spokesperson (and those who liked them) thought they were accepted, instead of just used.

You said it yourself that this colonial government is even stricter than the historical equivalent—which could mean it needs some sort of leverage to maintain its popularity. “Allowing” gay people to be some variation of themselves would be an ideal solution to this, but it would come with a bunch of conditions. What those conditions are I couldn’t tell you—that’s for your own imagination, based off what this group’s ideal is, but some suggestions are “follow the traditional dating/friendship norms”, “have their own gender identity slightly to the left of the cis ideal”, and/or “pretend to never actually be dating but everyone knows and pretends to not care so long as they don’t out themselves”—that would signal to the reader that this is deeply conditional and about to all come apart. 

It would, however, mean your poor boy is less likely to get a break, because he would be policed to be the “acceptable kind of gay” that the colonial government is currently tolerating (not unlike the way the States claims to support white cis same-sex couples in the suburbs but not bipoc queer-trans people in polycules). It also provides a more salient angle for this colonial government to come crashing down, if that’s the way this narrative goes.

Colonial governments are often looking for scapegoats; if gay people aren’t the current one, then they’d be offered a lot more freedom just to improve the public image of those in power. You have the opportunity to have the strikers be the current scapegoats, which would take the heat off many other groups—including those hit by homophobia.

In Conclusion

Personally, I’d take a more “gays for Trump” attitude about the colonialism and their apparent “lack” of homophobia—they’re just trying to regain popularity after mishandling a major scandal, and the gay people will be on the outs soon enough.

You could also take the more nuanced approach and see how imperialism shaped modern gay rights and just fast-track that in your time period, to give it the right flavour of imperialism. A lot of BIPOC lgbtqa+ people will tell you the modern gay rights movement is assimilationalist, colonialist, and other flavours of ick, so that angle is viable.

You can also make something that looks more accepting to the modern eye by leaning heavily on romantic friendships that encouraged people waxing poetic for their “best friends”, keeping the “lovers” part deeply on the down low, but is still restrictive and people just don’t talk about it in public unless it’s in euphemisms or among other same-sex-attracted people because there’s nothing wrong with loving your best friend, you just can’t go off and claim you’re a couple like a heterosexual couple is.

Either way, you’re not sanitizing colonialism inherently by having there be less modern-recognized homophobia in this deeply authoritarian setting. You just need to add some guard rails on it so that, sure, your character might be fine if he behaves, but there are still “deviants” that the government will not accept. 

Because that’s, in the end, one of the core tenants that makes a government colonial: its acceptance of groups is frequently based on how closely you follow the rules and police others for not following them, and anyone who isn’t their ideal person will be on the outs eventually. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a facade of pretending those rules are totally going to include people who are to the left of those ideals, if those people fit in every other ideal, or you’re safe only if you keep it quiet.

~ Leigh