#started questioning everything after have like three conversations with one hot man

[zer0expektation]

never getting over the fact that s4 Cas's arc is literally just a gay metaphor

[stellar-skyy]

Could I order a hot white tea for Aventurine? If you can also add angst to confort please 👀

“order up! i have a white tea for aventurine, fresh and hot!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: At a work event, your coworker offers you a dance. ii. CWS & NOTES: no warnings applicable. aventurine x gn!reader. reader & aven are coworkers. mild angst & fluff. 1.6k words. iii. A/N: thank you for the order! i hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t their plan to hide in the corner all night, but it was where they ended up; drink clutched in both hands, shoulders hunched tightly, and eyes cast to the floor. All around them, their colleagues and fellow members of the Interastral Peace Corporation mingled and danced, filling the night with a dull drone of chatter and laughter. Around the groups and pairs scattered across the hall, were those few idly loitering on the outskirts like shadows, themself included.

They could busy themself for a while pretending to survey the hors d'oeuvres arranged on the table, but soon enough they would catch someone’s attention. Then would come the questions of why they were avoiding people, and the feeble attempts to drag them into a conversation they had far too little energy to engage in.

A charity ball, organized by their colleagues and funded by the ICP themselves. It seemed like a perfect idea when it was pitched, all up until they were standing alone in a crowded room, trapped in layers of formalwear the dug into their sides. The festivities grew all too much after a while, leaving them exhausted and weary of every greeting and smile.

It was much easier to turn their back on the other guests and ignore them for however long they could manage. That way, they weren’t forced into mindless small talk, or dragged into a half-hearted dance with any of their coworkers. They were fully content on spending the rest of their evening on the sidelines alone, without anyone to disturb their—

“Ahem.”

Peace.

The voice tore straight through their attempt to sink into the background, silky smooth and laced with the slightest trace of amusement. They lifted their head up, hands tightening around the drink in their hands and lips forming his name before they even had to look at him.

“Aventurine.”

The man smiled. He was dressed much more formal than usual, decked out in a three-piece suit with a deep green tie. It was tailored, cut and shaped around each part of his body to fit him perfectly. The outfit was simple, but it suited him well; even in a room of people dressed in their finest, he managed to outshine every one of them.

“You’re certainly hidden well, aren’t you?” Aventurine remarked, plucking a canapé off the table beside them and popping it into his mouth. “How long have you been here? An hour? Two?”

“I wasn’t hiding—” They tried to say, before they were cut off with a laugh.

“You can lie, but not well enough to fool me.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t make excuses. I really don’t care that much.”

The music changed suddenly, turning from a light jazz to a slower tune, complete with sweeping violins and deep echoes of a cello. Like clockwork, the few folks dancing in the centre paired up—both actual couples who had attended together, and coworkers who hurriedly joined together in time for the song to start.

Aventurine cleared his throat again. When they turned to him, there was a look in his eye that told them he was planning something.

“I did have something I wanted to ask, however. May I have this dance?” he asked with a small smile, hand outstretched.

They bit back any retort that might have been on their tongue, as he stood waiting their response with a glint in his eye. It was a challenge, like everything was with him; a bet to whether their pride outweighed their self-consciousness. They could almost see the dice rolling behind his eyes, breath held in anticipation.

If it was a game he was playing, they would be happy to indulge him, if only for an evening. It wasn’t as though they had anything else to do, other than waiting idly in the corner for the music to die down and the guests to leave. They could spare whatever was left of their energy for a few minutes of dancing.

“Of course,” they said, taking his hand. A look of surprise crossed his face for only a moment before it was replaced with a wider grin.

“Ah, I knew I came over here to a reason,” Aventurine smiled, leading them away from the corner and into the lights.

They were uncomfortably aware of each eye fixed on their back, but Aventurine was unfazed; his hand was firm in holding onto theirs in a surprisingly gentle grip. His gloved thumb softly stroked the side of their hand, a move that was much too close to romantic for their liking.

“Are you ready?” he asked, when they reached the floor.

“Yes,” they said instantly, and hoped it wasn’t a lie.

He laced his fingers through their hand, sliding his other over their hips. A heat flushed across their face—the result of the stuffiness inside the venue, no doubt—and they fumbled to place their hand on his shoulder.

“You act like you’ve never danced before,” he laughed.

The music swelled, and Aventurine began to lead their dance. One step, then two and three. He was surprisingly adept at sweeping them across the floor, out of the way of the rest of the dancers, while keeping up their pace.

Together they twirled and spun, in time as the music sung a chorus for them and them only. The rest of the guests faded away, until the two of them were alone on the dancefloor, held tightly in each other’s arms. It crossed their mind, for a moment, that the scene was something more suited to a couple than a pair like them. They wondered if he was thinking the same, whether he thought it odd that they were so close. Was he regretting his choice of dance partner, or feeling thankful he asked them?

They found themself glancing around them throughout, but oddly enough Aventurine’s eyes never left them. He seemed transfixed, watching them carefully as they seemed to melt into the dance.

“Are you ready?” He asked abruptly, just as the music reached a crescendo.

“What?”

“Are you ready?” He repeated in lieu of an explanation.

“Ready for wh—” they tried to ask, but were suddenly pulled into a spin. He let go of their waist, long enough to twirl them around as they squeaked in surprise. Their head was reeling by the time he pulled them back, holding them even tighter so they didn’t fall over.

“Ready to be spun,” he clarified, a moment too late.

“Yeah,” they breathed, hand clinging tightly to his shoulder to balance themself. “Yeah… I got that, now.”

The two of them whirled and spun for some time more—was it minutes? Hours? It was long enough for the music to change again, into an equally slow but slightly more melancholy song—before he spoke up again.

“You’re not a fan of dancing?” Aventurine asked, an eyebrow raised. The question was posed in his usual lilting voice, but there was a note of concern in his tone that wasn’t present in the moments before.

“Why do you ask?”

Aventurine paused to spin them past another dancing couple—a woman who was giggling far too loudly, and a man who seemed like he would rather be anywhere else—before continuing. “Well, for starters you haven’t made eye contact with me for more than a few seconds this entire time. You keep looking down at your feet.”

The music swelled. Aventurine abruptly pulled them into a low dip, leaning down so their faces were close enough that they could taste his breath. Their heartrate spiked, loud enough to drown out the music, but not enough to mask Aventurine’s voice.

“Is something wrong, [Name]?” He whispered into their lips, and all of a sudden they couldn’t breathe.

Not while you’re here was their first thought, but it was something far too raw to speak out loud, and only a half-truth. Aventurine’s presence had managed to quell some of the discomfort eating away at their stomach, but he was only a pretty distraction to the uneasiness that threatened to sweep them off their feet in the worst way. It whittled away at their already cracked mask of indifference, leaving them desperately holding the pieces together.

The eyes were still there, watching. They tracked their every move, noting each way they tilted further into his body to shield themself from their sight. He noticed too, pulling them up and out of the dip and turning them away from the people staring.

“Can we just go?” They whispered hollowly. He blinked, seeming to be caught off guard by the defeat in their voice. The shift in his demeanour was immediate, like a switch had been flipped.

“Of course, let’s—” Aventurine cleared his throat, standing straighter. “Let’s go.”

His hand rested on their lower back, guiding them out of the ballroom. The eyes never left, but Aventurine met them with a glare, and slowly they turned their gaze.

 “After you,” he said, opening the wide doors and beckoning them through. And in the open air, they remembered to breathe. “Now, is something the matter?”

They shifted in their steps, tugging on the edge of their sleeves. Was something the matter? It was a perfectly reasonable question, especially since they dragged him out of the event so suddenly, but they were at a loss for an answer.

“I don’t know. I just—” They let out a shuddering breath. “I just wanted to leave.”

Aventurine hummed. “I suppose that’s something enough.”

“I’m sorry,” they whispered.

“No apologising,” he chided, flicking them lightly on their arm. “You can’t be expected to want to be social at every moment. It’s not like I was inclined to spend my entire evening talking to my coworkers.” He shook his head. “Let yourself breathe once in a while, okay?”

“…I guess.”

“Come on. Let me walk you home.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[eternalsams]

Paint It Black ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

summary: you didn’t want to get married, you didn’t need a ring to prove your love for your man. But when the circumstances want you to, you’re forced to tie the knot with Jake to stay with him. And you’re scared your soon-to-be-husband won’t agree with your only request.

warnings: none, only pure fluff

word count: 1 147

a/n: english isn’t my mother tongue, please take it into your consideration :)

masterlist

“Baby, you’re sure?” Jake frowns.

“Yes, Jake, I want it like that. But I know you like classic things so if you don’t want to, then we don’t do it. I don’t want you to feel forced to do it.”

“I'm not feeling forced to do anything with you, baby. I just know that this is big, even for us.” He tries to give you a reassuring smile.

“We’re known for doing big.” You give him a quick look.

“Then, let’s go. We’re doing it.”

The wet noise echoes in the room, making you wince.

“Oh my God, we’re doing it.” Jake groans.

The white fabric of your weeding dress drowning in the black dyed water. You drop it entirely into the hot water and takes a metal spoon to stir everything. When you started dating Jake five years ago, you didn’t want to get married, that wasn’t in your plans. Not that you didn’t love Jake, you loved him with your entire being and told him the three little words for your 3 month anniversary. You talked about it with him and first he tried to convince you that eventually you’d change your mind but after a long conversation, he stopped trying and accepted the fact that you didn’t want to get married.

You’ve been happy together for five years, until Admiral Simpson announced you that you had been deployed. In more than five years, you’d stayed at San Diego and it was great. You met lots of friends and, even better, you met the love of your life. Simpson gave you two weeks to pack your things and leave the west coast. When you told Jake about your deployment, he had been silent for multiple minutes and left the room to go to your shared bedroom. You feared he would call it quit and leave you alone after five years together. But he didn’t. He came back with a tiny bag in his hands. He gave it to you and sat down on the couch in front of you, waiting for you to open it. You rapidly looked up at him through your lashes and started undoing the knot. A silver ring fell in the palm of your hand and you looked up at Jake.

“What’s this?” You asked.

“I don’t want to stay away from you. I don’t like distance and I’m pretty sure a long-distance relationship with you will drive me crazy and you’ll have to check me into a mental hospital.”

“Jake...” You stared at the beautiful ring in your hand.

“I know what you think of marriage and I wouldn’t ask you that if there was another solution but-”

“Okay, let’s do it. Let’s get married.” You nodded your head and slipped the ring on your finger.

Jake jumped from the couch to take you in his arms and hold you as close as possible. You couldn’t contain the giggles as he peppered your face with kisses.

“Now the most important question. Since when do you have that ring hidden in our room, Mr Seresin?” You took his face between your hands.

So here you are, watching the water dye the wedding dress your mother got you two days ago. You told Jake about your desire to get married in black and, first, he didn’t agree. He came from a very religious family and when you told him you wanted a black dress, the only thing he saw was a funeral. The wedding was supposed to be white. But you eventually convinced him by showing him gorgeous black wedding dresses on pinterest and he couldn’t wait and see you in yours. Second obstacle; the budget. When you saw how expensive black wedding dresses were, you almost had a heart attack. You could never gather that amount of money when the wedding was in a week. So you decided to get a white one and take the risk to dye it. The wedding was in five days and you couldn’t afford for another dress. Even if Jake told you he would get you ten more dresses if you asked him, you didn’t want him to spent his money because of your mistake.

“And now we wait.” You say as Jake wraps his arm around your shoulders.

Today was the wedding day and you and Jake haven’t told anybody about your dress. You knew your friends wouldn’t care less if your dress was white, black or even rainbow colored. But you knew your and Jake’s families would have a hard time accepting your choice. But it wasn’t their wedding, it was yours. They should be glad you accepted to get married and don’t judge your tastes. So you were in the small room, smoothing the lace parts of your dress. It’s was just beautiful. The black dyeing worked perfectly and even if you had to dip it twice, the results were better than what you had expected. Jake only saw the dress when you got it out of the water the first time, the time it turned out to be more blue-ish than black. You asked him to trust you and he did. He didn’t ask any more questions and trusted you when you told him the second dyeing was perfect.

Phoenix is just behind you and can’t stop taking pictures on her phone to send it to Rooster who’s with Jake. Of course, Bradley doesn’t show the pictures to your fiancé, he only teases him by saying you look more beautiful than ever and Jake swears to God that if his wingman doesn’t shut up, he’s gonna rip his tongue out and make him eat it. Only your close friends and your families have been invited to the wedding due to the early convening and it was clearly enough for the both of you.

When the time of you walking down the aisle finally come, Jake can’t stay still, his feet refuse to stop taping against the tile on the floor of the small church you found. His gaze is locked on his cufflinks and when the music you chose for your entrance starts to play, he immediately looks up at the doors. They open and you appear. More magnificent than ever, just like Bradshaw has said. He is so mesmerized by your beauty that he can’t see your and his families whispering in the rows, either complimenting your dress or finding it completely out of place. But neither of you care about what the others think. How could he ever think black was a funeral color? You look ravishing in your dress and he already know the pictures are going to be unforgettable. You look like one of those characters straight out of a Tim Burton movie. You were his lovely and splendid bride. You reach him and take the hand he hold out to you.

“You look... perfect.” He breathes out with a shy smile.

“Told you it was a good idea.”

“The best idea ever.” He says as he kisses your knuckles.

[hunieday]

Iori, Yuki, Touma 2024 Shuffle talk RabbiTV Episode 1

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

*Door opens*

Izumi Iori: Good morning...Uh. What are you doing, Yuki-san?

Izumi Iori: Wrapping your hands around Inumaru-san's biceps…

Inumaru Touma: Good morning! Izumi!

Yuki: Good morning, Iori-kun. Touma-kun said he’s been really into muscle training lately, so I was just checking him.

Izumi Iori: C-Checking him...?

Yuki: If you're aiming to be like Ryuunosuke-kun, maybe you still have ways to go.

Inumaru Touma: That’s right...! I'll work even harder!

Yuki: Yeah, keep it up.

Izumi Iori: What kind of conversation is this... I thought I walked into the wrong room for a second…

Yuki: This is the planning room for the "Monthly World Travel".

Izumi Iori: I am aware.

Inumaru Touma: Oh man, I'm looking forward to Taipei! It’s interesting that we’re going sightseeing and challenging ourselves on a mission at the same time.

Inumaru Touma: We decided the members for this project by drawing lots, but the combination of the three of us seems a bit unusual, doesn't it?

Izumi Iori: Yes, it does. We’re different types of people...

Izumi Iori: ...I'm starting to feel anxious.

Yuki: What's making you anxious?

Izumi Iori: Just, overall.

Inumaru Touma: Huh? And here I thought that a trip with the dependable Izumi and Yuki-san would be good…!

Yuki: I’m dependable?

Izumi Iori: Please don't ask me that question.

Inumaru Touma: You really are dependable! I’ve been recording and watching "NEXT Re:vale" a whole lot!

Inumaru Touma: Also, I saw the way you looked at us when we were on the show together. You were looking as if you were watching over us, and it made me straighten my back!

Yuki: Is that so. Thank you.

Yuki: Maybe because Momo was there.

Inumaru Touma: Momo-san?

Yuki: Yeah. Momo isn't with us this time so I'll have to make sure I don't space out.

Izumi Iori: ...Inumaru-san.

Inumaru Touma: Huh?

Izumi Iori: Let's do our best. We should cooperate.

Inumaru Touma: Y-Yeah...?

Yuki: We’ll have the power of a hundred people with IDOLiSH7’s brainiac Iori-kun and ŹOOĻ’s leader Touma-kun in here. (1)

Inumaru Touma: Hehe, thank you very much...! I hope I’ll be able to communicate with the locals in English at least? That's the only thing I'm a bit worried about.

Izumi Iori: I think you'll be fine. Do you have confidence in English, Inumaru-san?

Yuki: Your rap is usually so cool after all.

Izumi Iori: We have members who are fluent when they sing but completely terrible at speaking, though...

Inumaru Touma: Well, my English is just about average, but I can manage somehow! It's all about the flow and momentum!

Izumi Iori: It's really strange, but it seems like it...

Yuki: That's hilarious. Our group shouldn’t have trouble communicating with the locals then.

Inumaru Touma: Yeah! Since everyone here can speak English, I'll learn a lot of things!

Izumi Iori: ...Looking at Inumaru-san’s positive attitude is making me believe everything will work out fine.

Yuki: I'm counting on you, children. (2)

Yuki: Now let's hope it's not too hot.

[Cut to Taipei]

Izumi Iori: As expected… Taipei is bustling with tourists.

Yuki: That's right. 

Inumaru Touma: I was a little worried about the weather since the rainy season is right around the corner, but I’m glad it’s sunny!

Yuki: That’s right.

Izumi Iori: ...Are you okay, Yuki-san?

Yuki: I might not be right…

Inumaru Touma: Are you tired, Yuki-san? Want me to give you a piggyback ride?

Yuki: ...ŹOOĻ’s Inumaru Touma giving me a piggyback ride doesn’t sound too bad.

Izumi Iori: You don’t have to do that. This isn't "NEXT Re:vale" after all...

Yuki: You're right. But I'll suggest a segment where we carry someone and run to the finish line next time.

Inumaru Touma: Sounds fun! I think Tora would be the only one in ŹOOĻ who could carry me…!

Accompanying staff: Once again, thank you for joining us today! Here is the card containing the missions with hints written on it. We'll also give you a map of Taipei to explore around!

Inumaru Touma: Thank you very much! ...Uhh, the mission is... 

Inumaru Touma: "Make your way to the flower carpet!", or so the card says!

Izumi Iori: A carpet... in a flower field, perhaps. We should be able to narrow it down quite a bit this time of the year...

Yuki: The hint says "popular tourist spot," but the map we got doesn't seem to have anything that hints at it.

Inumaru Touma: Yeah... Then how about we go somewhere we can ask the locals?

Yuki: Good idea. Sounds like a task that fits Touma-kun's high communication skills.

Inumaru Touma: Thanks! How about Yongkang…jie? It says there are many restaurants to enjoy and walk around, there might even be some shopkeepers who know something!

Izumi Iori: ...I see, it’s Yǒngkāng jiē (Yongkang Street). I've heard that there are many stores here where Japanese is spoken because of the amount of Japanese tourists who visit, so we might be on the right track.

Yuki: Amazing, Iori-kun's extensive knowledge is coming into play now.

Yuki: Momo, our children are growing up splendidly.

Izumi Iori: What are you mumbling to the camera?

Inumaru Touma: Well then, let's go there for now! Yuki-san, you feeling better now?

Yuki: I'm fine. Let's just take it slow. It's hot.

Inumaru Touma: Yeah! Slow but steady wins the race or something. Izumi, if you’re in trouble, let me know right away! You look like the type who doesn't show that kinda thing on your face.

Izumi Iori: Oh, thank you...You truly are the one who keeps ŹOOĻ together, aren't you...

Yuki: Fufu. I'm glad we have this group after all.

End of Episode 1.

This is a pun on Momo’s name (Hundred), as he has a combination of Iori’s wits and Touma’s communication skills and leader status. 

Yuki says “kouhai-kun-tachi”, which sounds like a more endearing way to refer to his juniors with the addition of the “kun” honorifics commonly used for younger people, so I chose to translate it as children. You can still interpret it as “little juniors” if you wish!

[idyllic-ghost]

beeeeeee!!! congrats on 2k!!! 🥳🥳 you deserve all of the support and love that you have and so much more!! ❤️❤️

may i request a fluffy smut fake dating au blurb with mingi and prompts 5 & 12 please? 😊🫶🏽

a/n: thank you for this request cherry !!! it was so much fun to write <3

title: wedding buddies

prompts: (5) "I want you to kiss me." (12) "I haven't listened to anything you just said."

pairing: mingi x afab!reader

warnings: smut, p in v sex, afab reader

word count: 2k

MDNI

join in on the celebration!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ah, wedding season. That special time of the year, between late spring and early fall, where everyone and their mothers decided to hold their weddings. You had come to that age where you friends and acquaintances were getting engaged and married - and you were just not there yet.

To every wedding you got invited to, you also got a plus one. For the first wedding you just went alone, but the amount of comments you got was enough to make you leave early. Which is why you now had a plan - and his name was Song Mingi.

Mingi was one of your friends, but he was the kind of friend you would usually just hang out alone with. None of your acquaintances, who had invited you to their wedding, knew of him, and your closest friends barely saw anything of him. So, to avoid future questioning, Mingi became your fake boyfriend.

It wasn't difficult to get him to do it, he was promised free food and drinks. What more could he want? Moreover, you got to present a hot boyfriend to all of your friends.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The deeper you went into your lie, the harder it was to deny your growing feelings for you your fake boyfriend. Mingi was so good at acting as your boyfriend that you almost felt betrayed when he'd go back to your normal ways after the wedding.

Now there you were, the last wedding of the month, and drooling over the man that you couldn't have - and you had no one to complain to about it!

Mingi was getting the two of you drinks by the bar, and while he was gone you found yourself fixing your outfit. The need to look good for your fake partner felt stupid, but that didn't stop you from trying. You watched Mingi walk back to you, a big goofy grin on his lips which didn't match the tight black slacks and white button-up shirt he was wearing - three buttons unbuttoned, and his tie just laying around his shoulders. His broad shoulders... Mingi did a little dance, trying to make you smile and succeeding immediately, before he finally got to the table.

"See, the venue might've been worse than the last one." Mingi picked the conversation you had before he left back up. "But I still think this wedding is better- my proof being: open bar!"

"I can't argue with that," you hummed and accepted your drink.

Mingi kept on talking, but you were busy staring at the way his lips moved. Soft and pouty, so incredibly kissable- no. You weren't allowed to think like that - he was your friend! Your buddy! Your pal! So in an attempt to be rational, you looked back up at his eyes. He hadn't noticed you staring. However, he was looking for some sort of answer that you couldn't give.

"Sorry, I haven't been listening to anything you just said," you admitted.

"Yeah I could see that," he said knowingly, "You've been busy."

"Hm?" Your eyes widened.

"You're too obvious when you've been drinking," he said, "Honestly, it makes the acting a lot easier."

You stared at him, wondering if he had managed to figure everything out. Mingi wasn't dumb, by any means, but you didn't think he could figure you out - you were stealthy... right?

"What do you mean?" you murmured.

The music started booming, and people made their way onto the dance floor. You kept looking at Mingi like a deer in headlights. He knew something, but you didn't have time to question it. Mingi stood up and held his hand out to you, leading you out to the dance floor once you had taken it.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The wedding was far enough away from either of your homes that you had decided to book a hotel room together. It was a late booking, and the only room you had managed to get had a king bed. Before this wedding it had been a source of anxiety for you, but now it was convenient.

Mingi's lips stayed on yours while he fumbled with the keycard to the door. He pulled away from you, swearing under his breath and tried one last time to open the door. Slamming the door open, the two of you let out drunken giggles and laughs while you stumbled towards the bed.

"Maybe we should talk about this." Your ass landed on the soft bed and Mingi kneeled before you.

His hands worked on taking off your shoes for you, throwing them behind him when he was done. He stood back up, towering over you, and held your hands in his.

"Is there anything you want to say?" he asked softly.

You stayed quiet, your mind completely blank. Mingi chuckled and pulled his tie off his shoulders, throwing it behind him as well. Without hesitation, your hands went to the buttons on his shirt and started unclasping each one. As his shirt opened up more, you started kissing the revealed skin - leaving lipstick marks across his chest and torso. Mingi took your face in his big hands and made you look at him.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," he murmured, "What do you want?"

"I want you to kiss me again," you admitted in a plea.

Mingi bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, teasing you before going in again. One of his hands went to your back, while the other one leaned on the bed behind you.

"Tell me you want me and I'll give you everything I have," he mumbled against your lips, "You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this."

"I want you."

It came out as a whisper, but you wanted to scream it. His lips attacked your neck, leaving blooming bruises on his path down your upper body. His lips felt like heaven, and you noticed a heat growing from your core throughout your body. When he got to your chest, where your dress started, he stopped.

"Wanna take this off for me?" he asked gently. "Let me see all of you."

You nodded eagerly and stood up on wobbly legs. Mingi worked on getting his own clothes off, laying down on the bed when he had done so. He watched you struggle with your dress, a big grin playing on his lips.

"Don't laugh!" you said as soon as you heard a snicker. "I can't reach the zipper!"

"Come here, sweetheart." He motioned for you to come over.

You stood in front of him and his hands landed on your hips, gently rubbing the skin over the fabric of your dress. He smiled up at you before turning you around. Reaching up, he grabbed the zipper and slowly dragged it down - teasing you.

"Mingi..." you whined.

"Mm," he hummed as he pressed a kiss to your spine, "I love it when you say my name."

You huffed and walked away from him, finally pulling your dress down. Almost instantly, you missed his hands on your hips. When you turned back to the man on the bed he was laying back with a confident smile on his face, cock straining against his underwear. Already, you could tell he was big. You got on top of him, straddling him. Mingi looked at you expectantly. Besides this rather bold move on your part, you had no other plan on what to do. At least you got to feel his hands on your hips again.

"You're even more beautiful than I could've ever imagined," he admitted.

"So you've been imagining me naked?" You grinned.

"Don't act like you haven't done the same to me," he argued.

You scoffed, but couldn't come up with anything else to say - it was true after all. Nevertheless, you had no time to respond because Mingi started grinding your hips against his, using his grip on your hips to get you to move. Strings of swears left your mouth and you leaned against him. You hadn't realized how sensitive you had gotten from his light teasing, but you were practically throbbing. Mingi found your lips again and kissed you, drowning all of your sounds out.

As you started approaching your high, your noises getting louder and your cunt leaking through your underwear, Mingi stopped moving you. Before you could whine and throw a tantrum, he flipped you over on your back.

"Did you bring a condom with you?" he asked breathlessly.

"In my bag."

Mingi quickly went over to your bag and rummaged through it. When he finally found it, he held it up to show you his victory. You laughed as he approached you once again. Your laugh got caught in your throat when you saw the wet spot you had created on his underwear. A big splotch of lust sitting promptly on top of his erection.

"Are you always this prepared?" he teased.

"I wouldn't call it prepared," you said, "Just hopeful."

"I'll answer your prayers, babe, don't worry," he grinned and got on top of you again.

He went to kiss you, but you put your hand in front of his face.

"No more fooling around, I need you to fuck me," you said desperately.

You ended up on your hands and knees, Mingi's cock ramming into you from behind. Each time he pushed inside, it felt like he was tearing you apart. His cock was even bigger than the ego he was going to get from fucking you stupid. Your moans bounced against the walls, filling the room quickly and most likely spilling out from the thin walls. You didn't give a shit, not when he was making you see stars.

"Mingi," you moaned, "Close..."

It was all you could muster saying. Your chest fell to the bed and he took the opportunity to drill deeper into you. It felt like he was in your ribcage, every thrust sending a shock through your body. Your sopping cunt was making sounds you couldn't imagine yourself making. It was crying out for more and more, the sounds of your wetness filling your ears.

"You can cum, sweetheart, I'm not stopping you." Mingi reached around your body and started playing with your clit, rubbing tight circles.

It pushed you over the edge, your body spasming and your legs almost giving out from under you. You let out a shriek as he kept fucking you, chasing his own high. The continued stimulation made your head spin, and you became a wobbly mess of limbs. You didn't even noticed that Mingi had pulled out of you and thrown away the condom. His sweaty body cuddled up against yours, the sudden skin-to-skin contact bringing you back to reality.

"You okay, baby?" he murmured in your ear.

"I'm alright," you breathed out, "Just need a minute."

"Okay, just lay back. I'll get you cleaned up and something to eat."

You felt him leave, and you turned around to put your head on one of the pillows. When he came back it was with a wet towel and snacks he had gotten from the mini fridge. He sat down beside you and helped you clean up.

"Do you have water?" you asked hoarsely.

Mingi reached over to the bedside table, where he had put all of his things, and opened a water bottle for you. You thanked him and sat up to drink.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The two of you were under the covers watching a film on the TV in front of the bed. You had calmed down from your high, and he had helped you get into bed properly. After talking for a bit, both agreeing that "just friends" maybe shouldn't be your title anymore, you decided to watch something until one of you fell asleep.

"You know what's so good about this?" you asked quietly and he hummed, "Now you don't have to pretend to like me at weddings anymore."

"I was never pretending."

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter two: couldn’t look away

neighbor!joel x f!reader

chapter 1 / series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

series summary: 

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 6k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, mentions of food/eating, pet name (sweetheart, darling [we're evolving]), polite southern manners (*cough* sir *cough*), feeling familial and self-pressure, masturbation (m), voyeurism, real pervy behavior from joel, descriptions of female nudity, fantasies of p in v sex, lil slightest bit of dirty talk, LATINO JOEL cause it's canon which means there's likely subpar spanish bye!!!

Wednesday morning comes by in a flash.

You’d spent the rest of the weekend after the neighborly barbecue replaying that last conversation with Joel repeatedly, your mind finding a different way to interpret his words each time.

“Well, it’s definitely gonna be somethin’, sweetheart.”

Was he excited to see you more? Was he flirting? Was he glad to have childcare? Was he annoyed about you getting involved? Was he nervous about having you around?

These questions looped in your head like a locked groove on a vinyl record — spinning around and around until someone comes to shut it up.

Which is exactly what happens as you stand on the Millers' porch after your short, polite knock at eight o’clock this morning.

Joel throws the door open in a whirl of nervous energy, his head turned towards a space further into his home. You clock his profile, hooked nose leading your eyes along the line of his face to the slightly patchy facial hair framing his jaw and his plush lips, which are moving as he projects back in the direction he’s facing.

“Got ten minutes until we’re rolling out, Bug! Better have your cereal finished and sneakers ready for me!”

Hearing his drawl, although not for you, makes your brain immediately shut up all of those musings from the last few days. The silence doesn’t last for long — your mind starts up again, but this time, your thoughts are merely consumed by a loop of “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod…” when Joel turns to you standing outside the entrance. His lips stretch up at the corners, one side reaching a hair higher on his cheeks. Perfectly set pearly whites flash from between the two pink pillows, and your previous mantra is interrupted with the question of whether or not he had braces as a kid.

Who are you kidding? Joel definitely didn’t have braces. He has to be one of those lucky people that avoided the gawky, awkward preteen years and grew into the perfect specimen of a man that is standing in front of you.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” — that nickname again — “Thanks so much for popping by early to get the details for everything. Past few days have been a little hectic getting settled and fully unpacked, and trying to keep Sarah entertained in the meantime.”

His chocolate eyes squint subtly as the light creases next to his eyes crinkle. The amount of eye contact is verging on too much for you, your insides rumbling like an engine turning over and his presence revving your nerves.

Heat grows at the back of your neck, ready to blame any sweat sheening your skin from the rising humidity in the morning air when in reality it’s all because of him. Your throat hems as you pull on your own smile, years of debutante-like training to save face in uncomfortable situations blessing you at this moment.

“Morning, Mr. Miller. It’s really no problem at all, I’m usually an early riser so I would’ve been up anyways.”

People pleasing liar. Your alarm is usually your mom coming into your room to ask what you want for lunch.

“Please, just call me Joel. C’mon in, sweetheart. I’ve got all the camp info on the pamphlet that’s on our counter, and I figured I’d give you a quick tour of the place so you don’t get the abridged version from the seven-year-old this afternoon.”

A chuckle falls from your lips, stepping inside once Joel moves. He closes the door behind you while you take a quick inventory of the space. The front door leads into a small entryway, a table to your right, and a coat closet to your left. You follow the lead of the shoes piled up under the console table, adding your beat-up baby blue Chuck Taylors to the mix of worn work boots and sneakers, and small, sparkly sandals and velcro tennies.

The entryway opens into the living room, a large leather couch against the front window and a recliner perpendicular to it. The coffee table is an oversized rectangle, matching the sizes of the other furniture. It fits well enough into the space, but you can immediately tell that a man lives here, even without the context you’re privy to. Identical throw pillows don each corner of the sofa and the chair, some throw blankets strewn around. Remotes and DVDs lay across the coffee table haphazardly, a curated collection of Disney originals with action movies like Indiana Jones: The Last Crusade and Curtis and Viper 2. It surprises you to also see the romantic comedy The Goodbye Girl thrown on the surface, a pang of jealousy shooting through your chest at the thought that it was likely rented for a date that Joel had this weekend, or maybe right before he moved.

“This is the living room, obviously. Feel free to hang out here or watch TV or a movie if I’m ever home late. Sarah will probably beg you to watch The Little Mermaid with her at some point, it’s her favorite and I’m sure she’ll want to know your thoughts,” Joel’s hand falls to your back to guide you easily into the room, moving towards the large opening that leads into the kitchen. His touch is featherlight against the cotton of your t-shirt, a barely there pressure that is rippling energy up your back and down the back of your legs.

“It’s my favorite, too, so already got one thing in common,” you glance over at Joel, a grin tugging at your lips when his sideways smile returns, his hand pressing to rest fully against your back as he leads you into the kitchen.

“More of an Aladdin man myself, but I have been known to hum along to ‘Kiss the Girl’ every once in a while,” he confesses with a chuckle before he turns away from you, his hand leaving your back as the dining table in the breakfast nook comes into view. Sarah’s sitting engulfed in her cereal and a picture book laid out in front of her, not looking up quite yet to acknowledge your presence or her dad’s.

“Now I have to hear that sometime. And maybe you can give me a full blown rendition of ‘A Whole New World’.” 

Your smile is innocent, words coated with saccharine and a hint of flirtation. It’s a line that you feel comfortable toeing right now, testing the waters to see what exactly Joel will give back — if anything.

As Joel opens his mouth to respond, Sarah’s ears perk up at the sound of your newly familiar voice. She drops her spoon into the bowl, some milk splashing out onto the placemat underneath the dish. Tiny legs scramble to stand on the seat of her wooden chair, curls bouncing as she wiggles in a full-body wave to greet you.

“You’re here! Daddy says you’re gonna hang out with me after I get home from camp. Are you gonna wait here for me all day? I’ve got lots of fun toys you can play with if you get bored. I can show you!”

Sarah beams excitedly as she bends down to pick up her cereal bowl, her dad reacting after it seems you both have the vision of spilled milk and a drenched little girl falling to the ground as she tries to maneuver herself down from standing on the chair.

“Bug, what do I always say? Butts in seats, not feets. If you put the bowl down, you can sit and get out much easier. Don’t need to be taking you to the hospital instead of camp today, right?”

Joel’s standing behind her chair now, holding the back as he waits for her to set the dish on the table and pulls the chair away from the surface after she’s fully seated again. His hand finds the top of her head once her feet are planted on the ground, flattening the kinky spirals under it.

Sarah rushes away from her dad, crossing the room to wrap her arms around your legs. Your hand finds the same spot as Joel’s had, fingers lacing into the soft curls to push them away from her face as you look down at her with a tender grin. You squat down to be closer to her eye level, sitting on your calves and locking your fingers together in front of you.

“Well, good morning to you too, Miss Sarah! I really wish I could stay all day and wait for you and play with all your cool toys, but my dad has some chores for me to do. However, I will be eagerly waiting for you at pickup today! And then we’ll come back here and hang out and play with all the toys until your dad gets home from work!”

A giddy smile adorns Sarah’s face, her tiny frame jumping up and down excitedly as she giggles. Joel strides over, the sound of his daughter’s excitement tugging at the corner of his mouth. His large arms scoop her up effortlessly, holding her at his hip as he reaches out a hand to help you up from your squat. You take it, rough callouses from the labor of building smooth against your softer palm. A jolt of energy shocks your nerves at the contact, goosebumps pebbling on your skin.

Joel drops your hand gently, wrapping it back around Sarah as he supports her weight. He looks between you and her, a smile still stretched sweetly across his expression.

“Alright, mija, we really gotta get goin’ if we are gonna get you there on time today. Can you please go get your sneakers on for me while I make sure everything is gonna be in order for later?” Joel’s eyebrows raise in questioning, Sarah’s confident nod easing them back down. He swings her out of his arms and sends her toward the front door, eyes snapping back to yours.

“Hopefully she’ll be a bit tired when you get her later, she can be…energetic in the mornings,” he laughs softly and you do the same, following him as he circles around the island to your left.

Laid out on the granite is the camp pamphlet, with the address and pickup times, and instructions detailed inside. Next to it is a list of emergency numbers, including the landline for the site office where he’s currently working as well as Tommy’s number and a phone number labeled with the name Tiffany, scrawled in parenthesis next to it “Sarah’s Mom”. The ten digits following it send a swirl of anxiety in your gut, your mind reeling to what she could be like. He’s never mentioned her mom being in the picture, and it was silly of you to assume that she wouldn’t be. Maybe they were together still, maybe she was out of town for some reason when they moved.

As if Joel is hearing your thoughts out loud, he clears his throat and nods toward the paper.

“She, uh, she’s only got every other weekend right now…I figured I should put her down, y’know, in case I don’t answer or Tommy doesn’t either. Just for emergencies though. Please.”

You nod once at his anxious but clear directions for the phone number, eyes turning up from the list of numbers to meet Joel’s with an affable, thin smile. Joel continues at your understanding, reaching into his front pocket and fishing out his cell phone. He passes it to you with a “New Contact” page open, clearing his throat briefly before fumbling out.

“I, um, I thought we should probably exchange numbers, so I can call you — or y’know, you can give me any updates or text me or call me — if you wanna — with any questions. And I thought I could let you know when I’m on my way home if you’d like.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Miller. Whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m all good. I’m the one takin’ care of your kiddo, so you just tell me what you want me to do.”

The device sits weighted in your hands, eyes leaving Joel’s to begin punching in your information. You hand the phone back to him, your number stored under your name with “Nanny” following it in parenthesis.

You slip your own out of the back pocket of your jeans, giving it to Joel to put his own phone number in. The small brick is dwarfed in his hand, some incredibly quiet grumbles slipping from his lips as he messes up a few letters or digits from his large fingers working the small buttons. Once he’s done, your phone comes back to you with the information saved under Joel (Sarah’s Dad).

As if you really wouldn’t know who he was based on his first name alone.

You deposit your device back into your pocket, looking back at Joel and raising your eyebrows in curiosity.

“Anything else I should know, sir? Allergies, things that Sarah isn’t allowed, should I make dinner for y’all?”

Joel’s eyes fall away and his broad shoulders tense at the word ‘sir’, and part of you wonders if he’s averse to the polite title or if it’s a reaction to you speaking it towards him. Your thighs burn at the latter thought in a new way, adjusting your stance to hide the uncomfortable pressure you feel in your gut as you study him nervously fumbling around with the materials on the counter.

“No allergies, and I, um, try not to give her any sweets as a snack. She’ll ask for ‘em, but don’t feel bad puttin’ your foot down. And you most certainly don’t have to cook dinner for us, sweetheart. I promise I can take care of that once I get home. Might need it some nights when I’m late, but those times, Sarah’ll be just peachy with some mac-‘n-cheese or chicken nuggets.”

“Yes, sir,” your voice has a hint of teasing in it, the phrase rolling off your tongue flippantly and your eyes studying Joel’s reaction. He turns towards you to see the cheeky grin on your face, tension relaxing from his shoulders as he gives you a look. One that says “be careful”, a playful warning of the waters you’re merely dipping your toes in.

“Y’know, you’re real polite, but I promise you can call me just Joel, sweetheart. No need for the niceties.”

You swear you see the flecks of amber in his eyes darken in a flash, hands gathering everything to get it on the fridge to find when needed and leading you out of the kitchen.

The rest of the plans are discussed as Joel adjusts the velcro straps on Sarah’s shoes in the entryway, his back facing you as he tells you about where to find the key that’s hidden on the porch. You’re half listening and slipping on your own shoes, the other half of your cerebrum busy analyzing the way his navy blue cotton t-shirt stretches across his shoulders and rib cage as he’s kneeling down and bending over. The stretch of the material makes the hem ride up ever so slightly to reveal a thin stripe of tanned skin above the waistband of his Levi’s. The jeans are tight at his hips and the position he’s folded into shows off a sliver of the elastic of his gray boxers.

The image of him tight, taut, and bent over is reeling in your mind and intensifying that pressure you felt a few minutes before, only this time it travels from your gut to between your legs. The knowledge of the feeling in such an intimate area makes your cheeks and neck warm with anxiety, praying to whoever’s out there that Joel can’t tell what you’re thinking about him.

Once Sarah’s shoes are fixed and the straps of her Blue’s Clues backpack are slipped onto her shoulders, Joel stands up again and claps his hands together.

“C’mon, Bug. We gotta get goin’, can’t be late. Vamos, mija!”

Sarah jumps excitedly and looks up at you, stepping over to hug your legs.

“See you later!”

You fluff her curls, a soft smile finds your lips at her excitement to see you again.

“I’ll pick you up, and we can have all the fun before your dad gets home,” you send her an exaggerated wink, your eyes locking with Joel’s as Sarah’s arms pull away and she jets out of the front door that Joel is holding opening. He gestures for you to go ahead of him with a nod of his head, a crooked, closed smile donning his face.

The seven-year-old has bolted to the truck in the driveway, and you turn back to say a quick goodbye to Joel. Without realizing how close he was to you, your shoulder bumps his firm chest and his hand grabs for your waist as you stumble back. His large palm radiates warmth from its spot on your side, brown eyes fixed on yours as his fingertips dig into the flesh under your shirt. From this close distance, you get a hint of mint from his toothpaste and that familiar scent of bergamot and cedarwood from his cologne. It’s an intoxicating mix, your exhale hitching in your throat and a quick inhale following it to gather as much of his scent as possible. It feels comfortable, safe even, with his hand on you and his breath intermingling with yours. His tongue pokes out briefly to wet his lips, his hand falling to his own side when you take a step back and attempt to steady your breathing.

“You alright there, darlin’?”

Darlin’, that’s a new one.

Thuds of your pulse fill your ears while your head moves in a nod to cover up the electric shock of adrenaline that Joel has sent through your body.

“All good, thanks, Joel. Sorry for bumping into ya, didn’t realize you were right there. I was just gonna say goodbye, or really, see you later.”

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Have a good day, and feel free to text or call if you have any questions,” his departing words are punctuated with a gentle smile, the crinkles next to his eyes growing deeper and a dimple appearing on his right cheek.

The sight makes your pulse grow louder in your ears, washing out other morning sounds of birds chirping and cars rumbling to life in everyone’s driveways. A short nod from you ends the conversation, and your feet step back and turn to walk down the two steps from the Miller’s porch to the front walkway. Joel follows behind, his work boots much louder against the wooden stairs. He calls out to you to grab your attention before you make it out of the driveway, passing off the extra car seat he grabbed from his garage before you arrived, explaining briefly how to install it in your backseat for Sarah; you take the plastic and felt safety device and head back home to wait out the hours of the day until you see him again.

Rounding his truck, Joel moves to get his daughter into the car and glances back at you at the same moment you do. Quickly, you turn right back around, your legs speeding up to carry you across your lawn to the open garage door of your house. Risking it, you turn back over your shoulder just once more to see Joel climbing into the driver’s seat and turning the ignition. He effortlessly reverses from his driveway, and as if he can see you in his rearview mirror, he throws a hand out his open window in a short wave to you before he lurches down the street.

Pickup went smoothly, Sarah found you outside in the carpool lane and ran up to get into your SUV. Once she was buckled in securely, you drove out from the park district buildings, the adorably high-pitched voice of the seven-year-old in your backseat rambling off all of the activities that encompassed the first day of camp.

You ask her questions, hearing all about the nature explorations they went on, the other kids in her group, her counselors, and more. The conversation carried over from the car, to snacktime, and even into the scenarios that Sarah had her Barbies act out.

Hours flew past, and before you knew it, your phone buzzed shortly on the wooden coffee table. Setting the blonde Barbie in your hand to sit down with the others that Sarah was playing with, you grab your device and read the message from Joel:

On my way home — hope you two have been having fun

The message is straight to the point for the most part, but the slightest idea of him thinking about you this afternoon nests its way into your mind and your heart, igniting a kindling from inside you. Sure, he was probably nervous about your first day on the job and how Sarah would be getting along with you, but that was still a thought about you.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Small mannerisms of Sarah’s reminded you of the tiny observations you had made of Joel in your limited time together. A brow furrowed into a deep crease with playful annoyance when you had veered from the story that Sarah was telling with the Barbies, the small dimple in her right cheek when she giggled at something funny you said, the soft demeanor she kept when playing with her baby dolls — clearly mirroring the care her father showed her.

It was incredibly adorable. And also incredibly frustrating, as it meant that Joel had infiltrated your mind for the whole afternoon when you were hoping your time nannying would give you a reprieve from your little schoolgirl crush on your neighbor.

Clicking the buttons quickly, you shoot a text back to him before your attention is dedicated to Sarah again, who’s found her dress-up clothes in her closet from upstairs:

We’ve had a blast, at least I have :) See you soon!

You hit send before you can overthink the wording, your phone finding its place back on the living room table as you follow Sarah to the bathroom to look for her clips to do her “princess” hair.

As you place the last rainbow-colored clip in Sarah’s hair, the front door closes with a click. Boots tumble against the tile near the entrance, the sound pulling the little girl’s attention from the mirror, a smile beaming on her face as she runs to greet her dad.

“Hi, Daddy!”

A smile finds your own face as you follow out from the downstairs bathroom, watching as Joel grabs for his daughter, swinging her up into his arms to be held like a baby. His genuine grin tugs at your heart, the wholesome vignette playing out with a rose-colored tint in your eyes.

“Well hello there, Princess!” Joel sets her tiny frame down, bowing graciously in front of her before giving her a quizzical look, “Pardon me, Princess, but have you seen my daughter? She’s about yay high, pretty curls, killer smile. Responds to the name Bug, or Sarah.”

You can’t help but laugh quietly to yourself as you lean against the wall, arms crossed over your chest as you look on. The sound pulls Joel’s eyes to meet yours briefly, a smile flashing with a wink before his faux confusion returns to his daughter in front of him.

Sarah’s giggles fill the room, her light voice informing her father between bouts of laughter, “Daddy, it’s me! I found my princess costume and we did my hair all pretty.”

A gasp from Joel cuts through the giggles, mock realization washing over his expression.

“Oh my goodness, it is you! Well, don’t you look pretty as a peach, Bug!” He presses a kiss to her forehead standing to his full height as Sarah runs into the kitchen to grab her artwork from camp that she’s been waiting to show off.

Joel’s gaze meets yours again, a warm smile raising one side of his mouth as his eyes glint with something that looks like a mix of exhaustion from work and relief to be home.

“Hope there wasn’t too much trouble with pickup or here at the house,” he pats his pockets with a concentrated look on his face, finally feeling what he was searching for and fishing it out of his dirt and sawdust-covered jeans, “I, uh, got this made on my lunch break. Figured it’s easier for you to have your own so that the emergency one can stay there. Lord knows Tommy or I need it too often for it to go missin’.”

He strides over to close the gap between the two of you, keeping about a foot and a half of space. His hand holds out the object, your smaller one extending your palm out to receive it. A gold key drops into your hand, your initials Sharpied on in his handwriting, and a rush of exhilaration tingles off of the metal and down your spine.

Joel’s fingers brush your skin as he pulls away, your stare lifting from the key to meet his. A smile pulls at your lips, your tongue swiping across your bottom lip before you speak up for the first time since he’s gotten home.

“Should I be expecting any late-night calls? Y’know, when you forget where the emergency one is or if Tommy’s lost it?”

One of his hands lifts to rub at the back of his neck, a slight cringe on his face as he chuckles.

“I have to say, I wouldn’t put it past me. But do not feel obligated to come ‘n help me, I promise I’ll survive a night sleepin’ in the truck. Wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for waking you up, darlin’, just 'cause I was bein’ a dumbass.”

“And I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for letting you have a bad night’s sleep, sir. I’d come at any time.”

Joel’s throat clears when Sarah’s rushed footsteps pad back into the room, large craft paper paintings in each of her hands.

“Here, look Daddy! I painted these today — my group leader said they were beautiful.”

Before both paintings end up in his hands, he lays a hand on your shoulder, completely enveloping it in his warmth and giving you a light squeeze. His eyes shift to the collar of your shirt and look away quickly before he nods toward the front door.

“Go on and head out, sweetheart. Don’t wanna keep you from any plans ya got. I’ve got a dinner for a Princess to whip up and museum-quality paintings to analyze.” 

You're the one to break the eye contact he’s been holding, stepping away from his touch and feeling the chill of the air on your bare shoulder. Sneakers slip back on your feet, not bothering to do up the laces when you’re merely crossing your adjacent lawns to get home. Stopping short of the front door, you turn back to see Joel already staring, Sarah passionately explaining the painting that he is holding.

“Night, Sarah. Night, Joel. See you both tomorrow!”

“Have a good night, darlin’. Sleep well, see you tomorrow.”

His words wrap you in a cozy blanket, his drawl echoing in your mind as you send him one last smile before shutting the door and exhaling deeply.

It’s gonna be a long summer.

With his daughter asleep in her bed after an hour of reading chapters to her from the latest obsession, Matilda, Joel is relieved to finally have a moment to himself. He’d spent another hour of his evening in front of the TV, attempting to watch the rerun of the latest episode of The Sopranos, before he decided to call it a night and head to bed earlier than usual. It was only about ten o’clock, but Joel is usually one to stay up until at least midnight before he can shut his brain off from all of the stress he’s under day in and day out.

Taking care of Sarah, working long and laborious hours, and keeping his brother under his thumb so he doesn’t go off the deep end. And these days, he’s added the stress of behaving around you. His first glimpse of you the day he moved in made his heart rate pump faster, and when your mom suggested you as a nanny for Sarah, it excited him to be able to see you more and get to know you. He hadn’t thought about the close proximity he would constantly be in and the way you consumed his thoughts when he was away. And he definitely — no absolutely cannot act on the desires he feels towards you, especially as, well, your employer. It would be completely inappropriate. Your parents trusted him to give you a safe summer job, and he really doesn’t want to be driven out of his new home with torches and pitchforks if they found out what he thinks about you. What he wants to do to you.

It all gets to be too much, and tonight is a night that the exhaustion has caught up to him. He wants to relax — turn his brain off for a moment to be able to succumb to sleep, which is why he finds himself dragging his heavy limbs up the stairs to his bedroom.

He shuts the door behind him softly, pulling his t-shirt over his head as he crosses the room. Once the fabric is dropped off of his arms, he’s stood in front of his window, glancing out into the dim night with the glow of street lamps illuminating the sidewalks. Pulling his gaze back up and into his room, he does a double take at what he caught a flash of.

Your bedroom window.

He hadn’t noticed that he faced your room until this moment, probably from the late nights he’s accustomed to spending downstairs on the couch until the last possible second. You must always be asleep, or at least have your lights out when he climbs into bed.

Tonight, however, he can see in. He can see you.

And he feels like a fucking creep.

You're standing unknowingly exposed to him in your open window in your bra and panties, clearly getting changed to head to sleep. He sees the full view of the soft pink bra he’d spotted earlier today when a strap peeked out from the collar of your t-shirt. He felt like a perv staring at it then, imagining what the whole thing looked like against your skin, but this was a whole new level. 

His legs are cemented in place while his brain is screaming at him to look away, to go to bed, and forget all about your baby pink bra and white lace-trimmed panties. All the while, he can feel the crotch of his jeans tightening as he watches on with wide eyes and saliva flooding his mouth as he voyeurs.

Yeah, his brain isn’t gonna win this one over his dick.

Your back is to the window now, and to him, having turned around to face the inside walls of your room, and your hands reach around to unclasp your bra. You let it slip from your shoulders, catching it at the ends of your arms and turning to the side to set it on your bed.

Warm yellow lamplight backlights you, the silhouette on display for him showing off the curves of your breasts and hips, the soft lace of your panties shining in the low light. Joel feels the strain of his jeans to the point of discomfort, and despite him feeling like a complete debauchee, he justifies his decision of what he’s about to do by telling himself that it’s a much better alternative to him succumbing to his desires to have you — it’s better to observe from afar and relieve some tension than it is to make you uncomfortable and lose his childcare for the summer.

Hands grip the back of the desk chair near him, sliding it up to the window and angling it to have a good view while being able to stay hidden. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles before sitting in the chair, palming himself as he watches you move around your space without a shirt on.

He reaches into his boxers, pulling his cock out and letting it sit against his stomach as he continues to watch you. Precum dribbles onto the dark curls of his happy trail, the ache in him too strong to ignore. He spits in his hand and starts to stroke himself, a soft groan falling from his lips as he watches you move closer to the window, the night light illuminating you in a blue hue as you lean over whatever surface is in front of your window.

He watches as your breasts move from the motion, his hand speeding up as another moan slips from his mouth. He’s desperate to close his eyes and imagine you under him or on top of him, but he cannot draw himself to look away, especially when he sees a bottle of lotion in your hands.

You pump some out and start to apply it to your body, starting with your arms. He studies your hands gliding over your skin, rubbing and buffing the moisturizer in. You move back towards your bed, lifting your legs to massage the lotion in one at a time. He wishes he were there, kneeling next to you to get a view of your clothed cunt in the innocent white lace of your underwear. An image of what you could look like flashes in his head — wet, spread, and ready for him. He envisions his hands where yours are and your hand where he is working his cock, breath catching in his throat as you reach your breasts and abdomen.

Envy crawls in his chest, a growl sounding from his mouth as observes you getting to touch yourself in ways he’s been imagining since he met you. All he wants is to feel your soft skin pressed all over him, to feel either your hand, your mouth, or your sweet pussy (it has to be sweet, there’s no way it couldn’t be based on that syrupy voice of yours and those candied endearments towards everyone) wrapped around his cock instead of his own fist.

Your hands slip under the waist of your panties to moisturize the skin underneath there, and the vision of you so close to touching your own cunt sends his fist in a wild pace up and down his length, his head rolling back with a deep but restrained groan.

When you come back into view, you’ve got a t-shirt in your grip and his hand continues feverishly as he whispers, no whimpers, to himself, pleading with you to leave yourself bare for a moment longer.

“No, no, no, c’mon, darlin’. Only take a second, pretty please, baby,” his breaths come out heavy, the humidity of it adding to the sweaty stickiness across his body, “Fuck — Quiero metertela, quiero dartelo. (I want to put it in, I want to give it to you.) Gonna make me come just from lookin’ at you, you don’t even know. Such a pretty girl.”

As if you heard his begging, you drop the shirt onto the bed and climb onto it on your knees, bending over and supporting yourself with one hand as you reach for something at your nightstand that’s out of sight for him. He doesn’t even care to know what you could be preoccupied with, thankful for whatever the distraction was for making you get on (almost) all fours for him. At least, he thinks of it as for him, despite you not knowing exactly what he’s doing across the way.

The guilty thoughts of his depravity fall to the wayside as he gets closer to the edge, his mind racing with the phantom feeling of fucking into you from behind in the exact position he can see you in. The only sounds in his room are his labor breathing and the glide of him fucking his own hand, slaps of his arm hitting against his thigh repeatedly.

As if on cue, you sit back on your knees to give him a full view of your form again as he comes, your name rolling off of his lips. Short ropes of white spend coat his fingers as he slows through his orgasm, whimpering while his eyes screwed shut tightly. When they open again, he watches you slip the t-shirt over your head and shut your lamp off, leaving Joel sitting in the dark with only the streetlights casting enough illumination for him to see the mess he’s made of himself while being a Peeping Tom.

It’s gonna be a long summer.

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[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Four

Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Four: A Cyborg, A Skeleton and A Lot of Limbs Walk Into A Shop…

You’ve always liked early mornings. Those moments where everything remains silent, untouched, and it feels like only you can drift across the earth like a ghost. You love to be the first witness of the sun stirring from its own slumber, where you can sit down and think and think and think and know that the day still hasn’t started yet. You’re relieved because you know you’re not wasting your day. This is just the entrée to the main course.

With a cup of coffee pressed against your red-hot palms, you lay against your workbench and admire the mild light that filters through the door. Your eyes slightly drift across your studio, taking in the heap of unrestored mess made from yesterday. You let out a pent-up sigh... Well, at least you’re getting some help with that.

From a distance, you pick up on the faint form of Gramps ambling towards you, making you almost smile in greeting – almost. Because as you strain your eyes harder, you realise that there’s another person who’s towering beside him, silently listening to the excitable one-sided conversation made by your old man.

Much to your unsurprise, it’s him.

You observe him silently, tapping a thoughtful finger against your mug.

Huh. He’s still wearing those hilts by his hip, you notice. Any other wielder would opt to throw those empty carcasses away by now.

Somehow sensing you, the marimo cocks his head and his eye naturally falls onto yours. His golden earrings dance in the morning light like a flickering flame, making sound only gold can elicit from a breeze. The light brushes across his closed eye, uncovering the deep white scars of his history, and for a split second, you begin to wonder about them.

From a distance, he narrows his piercing gaze with a questioning brow, and undeterred as you are, you stare straight back at the green-head.

Without breaking your gaze, the two men near you, and Gramps being as oblivious as ever is still completely lost in his own line of conversation.

“And that’s why Kotetsu, from eons ago, favoured the ores from the Rippling Ground rather than the—"

“Good morning,” you interrupt, deciding to offer relief to the marimo from your babbling old man.

Gramps beams at you, waving a calloused hand in greeting. He turns to the marimo, having to dramatically crane his head up to look at him. “I told you she’d be awake.”

“I haven’t started on the swords, if that’s why you’re here…” you curiously state, cocking your head at the samurai.

As Bull-Head opens his mouth to reply, Gramps interjects giddily.

“I invited him here.”

Oh, well that figures. You know your Gramps sees something in this guy, but you don’t really get what it is.

You take another long look at the scarred marimo, which he returns with an expressionless countenance.

“What?” He gruffly snaps.

You smirk a little, walking towards your forge. “Did you fall out of bed? Your hair’s sticking up.”

You don’t need to turn around to see it happen – you hear the man hiss to himself as he pats over his head aimlessly.

“I met the others by the dock,” Gramps Sukiyaki informs with a little grin on his weathered face. “Funny bunch, they are!”

You can’t help but smile at his elated demeanour; it seems like the Straw Hats are definitely improving his mood in these days. You can’t help but like the fact that they’re all most certainly clinically insane.

“Raya!” Nami shouts from the field, jogging with Chopper on her shoulder. “We brought a few more of us than expected, I hope that’s okay!”

Chopper apologetically grins at you as they enter through the wide door. “More like - we couldn’t stop them from coming…”

You push off from your stool and smile at the two, shaking your head. “That just means more helpful hands!”

Three odd figures begin to file in after Nami and Chopper, excitedly looking around the studio with freshly intrigued eyes.

“Woah! Luffy wasn’t lying about this place,” the metallic man exclaims wildly, stomping through your workspace like a kid in a candy shop.

“Yo-ho! This energy…this soul - I can feel it in my bones!” The…speaking skeleton…grins, clambering along inside with the robot.

Clang! Rattle!

“Don’t just fucking walk in before introducing yourselves!” Nami yells, her hand steaming from a fresh beating.

“Hello, I’m Robin.” The dark-haired woman smiles at you, gazing at the rack of freshly made weapons besides her. “Wow, you’re very talented.”

Disoriented from the bombard of stomping guests, it takes you a second to register her words.

 “Oh…uh – thank you. I’m Koz—” You immediately halt, swearing intensely at yourself at the blunder you were about to make. “I’m Tenguyama Raya.”

In an instant, Robin’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she tries to compose herself.

Shit. Shit. Shit, you think. Did you accidentally ruin your cover just now?

“Nice to meet you,” the cyborg weakly interrupts, a robotic arm clutching at his swollen back. Nami hovers behind the two wounded crewmates, animalistically breathing against their necks. “I-I’m Franky.”

The damaged skeleton sweats anxiously, side-eyeing Nami who’s growling at him under her breath.

“I-I’m Brook.”

All of this sounds like some kind of joke: A cyborg and a skeleton walk into a shop…

“We heard you needed some extra hands,” Robin explains, crossing her forearms in the formation of an ‘X’.

Consecutively, an army of limbs sprout up from the ground like baby tree saplings, slowly taking shape as pale, wriggling hands.

“What the fuck?” You shout loudly, jumping away from a hand that crawls past your feet.

Robin laughs at your reaction. “I ate a—"

“Yeah, I can see that!” You excitably exclaim, crouching down to watch the assembly of hands picking up your scattered belongings. “This is so efficient for make-shift manufacturing assemblies! Not to mention the amount of work you could do at the same time…I’m envious…”

A skeletal hand slides in front of your eyes, making you yelp out loud and lose your footing.

“What the fuck?” You repeat again, arms fearfully flaring up with fire, about to kick whoever’s zombie-ass that was.

Brook yelps like you do, putting his hands in front of him.

“Ho-ho, I’m surprised I wasn’t the one who scared you first!” He flashes his teeth in a forced grin, making him look more constipated than friendly.

“I’m so sorry -- you took me off guard,” you stammer, frantically looking around at the crazy bunch of people who’ve entered your shop. You thought Luffy was too much too handle, but it seems like his whole crew is, too.

As you begin to stand, your eyes accidentally brush past the skeleton’s hip on your way up – wait, what is that? A purple cane? But… its makeshift tip looks similar to of a hilt…the grooves, the slight contour line that divides the top from the rest of its body…

You wildly point at the foreign object, the words not able to come out of your mouth.

Everyone looks down and gapes at what you’re gesturing at.

They gape up at you in bewilderment.

“What is that?” You finally demand, completely taken by this cane.

“Ah, this?” Brook points at his purple cane.

With a quick swish and twang, his bony fingers curl over the hilt and he unsheathes…. frankly, a masterpiece.

His glinting sword hums in the most harmonious, bone-chilling tone you’ve ever heard from a blade before as he proudly presents the sword to you.

“I call her the Soul Solid – my grooviest instrument yet.” Brook dramatically poses and flashes his cane-sword hybrid in the air.

“It’s…It’s…” You stutter, your eyes shining in admiration. “It’s a work of art.”

It’s so wacky and so groovy, and it harmonises with the wielder so perfectly, and you just love it.

“Hold on, you like that skeleton’s walking stick more than my blades?” The green-head marimo stomps over while growling, looking completely pissed off. “Just what type of swordsmith are you?”

You ignore him, bashfully moving closer to Brook with your palms stretched open.

“May I hold her?”

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” Marimo yells, flaring his nostrils furiously.

“Of course…but…if only I could see your panties first, Miss?” Brook replies sweetly, fluttering his empty eye-sockets at you.

Crack! Rattle!

“Didn’t I make things clear enough before?!” Nami yells, karate-chopping Brook on his vulnerable skull.

“I-I’m sorry…” Brook whispers and hands you his sword, fading into the background of his crewmates. Chopper anxiously follows him with a carton of milk clutched in his hoof.

“Amazing craftsmanship! I wonder who made this, this handiwork doesn’t ring any bells…” You say more to yourself than to anyone in particular, observing the make of the metal and the customised grooves on the hilt. “She’s in perfect shape.”

“Cool. Whatever. Who cares. When are you going to remake mine?” The marimo hisses, making Nami hiss back at him like a cat.

Suddenly, you hear Robin gasp like she’s being choked. All of her helpful hands wilt and merge into the floor, smashing all of the items that were safely in their grasps.

“Robin! What are you doing?” Franky shouts, lunging forwards to catch a glass orb before it shatters from impact.

You swivel your head around to look at Robin, and almost immediately, anxiety consumes your chest like wildfire.

“Robin, are you okay?” Chopper exclaims, running towards her.

Robin’s eyes are consumed with shock, her mouth slightly open. She turns to you, a new hand blossoming in between where you two are standing.

The hand morphs and flutters out like branches on a tree, but instead of holding leaves, it's holding--

“How…do you have this?”

The glossy cube glints in her graceful grasp. Obsidian and violet in shade, the text is only half-way crafted across its surface.

It's your poneglyph.

Immediately, Gramps Suki draws out his blade.

[dameronology]

timing's a bitch [5/5] - s.h

summer '87

“oh my love, i lied to you, but i never needed to" - liar, paramore (x)

“if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing…timing. but timing is a bitch” - how i met your mother

a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

a/n: i am sooooo sorry for how long this took. i have a long list of excuses but i shall not bore you. we have, however, finally made it to the end and i owe you all the biggest fucking thank you in the world for all your support on this series. i love u all and i hope this is the ending u wanted <3

Twelve months was the longest period of time you’d gone without seeing Steve Harrington.

You’d seen him basically every day for your entire goddamn life and then he’d just…disappeared. Left the arcade in a cloud of shame and then you hadn’t seen him since. He was fine; you knew that much. A quick call to his parents had let you know that he was with them in Florida. Fuck knows why, because as far as you’d known he had hated his parents almost as much as he hated Florida. But, as it had turned out, knowing didn’t account for much. You thought you knew Harrington’s every move, but everything in the last year had completely blindsided you. Even if it was just an anomaly, it was enough to make you question everything. It had hurt more than you cared to admit – the sudden revelation, the disappearance, the lack of contact – but the realisation that he’d admitted to loving you had carried you for just a little while.

Only a little while. Three months at the most. After that, you lost hope and moved on.

Did it feel like part of you was missing? Completely. Was there anything you could do about it? Absolutely not.

Steve’s name became something of a curse word amongst your friendship circle. Friendship triangle, actually. The combination of Eddie and Robin had been the only thing carrying you through. Hawkins had changed as you knew it, because as it turns out, you and Steve had shared a pair of rose-coloured lenses. The town sucked without them and man you hoped Florida was even worse for him. Maybe one of the crocodiles or swamps would swallow him up. At least that way you could get closure.

It was hard not to think about him; to think about whether or not he’d started dating again, about how much he was probably suffocating under the same roof as his parents. The part of you that had been hurt by him wanted so badly for him to be aching too – for you, for the familiar, for the realisation that Tampa Bay might have been great, but no place was truly great without you – but the rest of you just pined. For him, for his dumb sarcasm and ridiculous ability to be so smart about everything, for his shitty driving and that stupid cologne and the cursed BMW that you were afraid to shine a UV light in for fear of a live Jackson Pollock experience.

You missed him.

Eddie and Robin were good company. Every time you were sad, you would find yourself with them at the Hideout, laughing about something stupid and then revelling in the realisation that you were going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. You had your friends.

“So…I like her, but I don’t like like her, you know?” Eddie’s aimless ramblings filled your ears one cold Wednesday night. Class had been long, but not as long as this conversation. Was he even going the right way home? You’d no clue.

“So, break up with her then, Eds,” you replied, unable to resist an eyeroll. “It’s obvious.”

“But she’s so hot!”

“And?!” you shot back. “You can’t just hold out for someone because they’re hot.”

“Right. If you did, you’d be in a Florida swamp by now.”

You shot Eddie a glare. “Watch it.”

“I regretted it as soon as I said it,” he grimaced. “Sorry. I really am.”

Eddie reached across and squeezed your arm, giving you a smile. He was far too easy to forgive.

As it turned out, he had been going the right way, because your apartment building had finally made an appearance in the distance. One of the better developments in your life in the past year had been that you, Robin and Eddie found a place together. It was a complete shithole, and you were pretty sure your neighbour was a pervert, but it was yours. More yours than your place in New York had been. 

Hopping out the van, you shut the door behind you and fumbled around for your keys. Eddie wasn’t far behind, just taking a moment to assess the damage the pavement had done to his wheel when he’d collided it with at the morning. Something about the government shouldn’t have put a pavement there and I don’t pay taxes for this shithole to destroy my van.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside and was immediately greeted by Robin. She was in attack mode, elbowing her way past you and towards Eddie.

“Munson!” she yelled. “How many times have I told you not to smoke week inside? I’m trying to study for my finals but all I can smell is your skanky goddamn stoner broccoli- “

“- woah, woah, woah!” Eddie held his hands up in defence. “Before you rip my head off, don’t you want to have that conversation with our beloved roommate first?”

You glanced at them, thinning your eyes. “The hell are you talking about?”

“Uh…” Robin trailed off. “We should go inside for this.”

“Or you could just tell me here?” you suggested.

Despite your advice, your friends both took an arm each and lead you inside to the sofa, where they laid you down. Robin did have a point about the smell in here.

“You should sit down for this,” Eddie began.

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’m lying down?”

“Oh…” he trailed off. “Then you might want to sit up for this.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat up and swung your legs round so they were on the floor. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Robin gulped. “Steve called.”

“Here?” your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah. Six times, actually,” she continued.

“What?!” you exclaimed. “When?”

Eddie and Robin glanced at each other.

“Guys,” you pushed. “When?”

“Three months ago. And also, nine months ago, and also ten months ago, and he also tried calling my house the week he left and…” Eddie trailed off. “Why do you look so angry?”

“Why the fuck are you only telling me this now?!”

“We thought it was best you didn’t know!” Robin chimed in. “He just made you so miserable and-

“- that’s not your decision to make!” you snapped.

“No, you’re right…. we know that. Now. We know that now,” Eddie said. “We just thought it was worth telling you because rumour has it, he’s back in town.”

“Rumour has it from who?”

“My eyes,” Robin admitted. “I saw him yesterday at the coffee shop down the road. I think he was looking for you.”

--

It wasn’t in your nature to dramatically storm off. It was even less in your nature to steal Eddie Munson’s keys and aimlessly speed off into the night, but you probably earnt the right to do after learning that your best friends had been lying to you. Betrayal from Steve had sucked, but even more so from them. What sucked even more was the realisation that he hadn’t been ignoring you for a year. That was a lot to deal with.

You found yourself driving to Lover’s Lake. It had been an unconscious decision – less conscious that the one to fuck up Eddie’s tyres even more on the way over – but it was weirdly peaceful once you got there. Freaky alien portals aside, it was a pretty relaxing place when it was empty at night. The water was completely dark, lit up only by the moon and stars, where you could be alone with your thoughts and-

“I have a gun!”

The words from your mouth had been quick – and a lie – when you heard someone step on a twig behind you. It wasn’t the worse lie in the world. You could have had a gun in your pockets. Maybe. How big were guns anyway? You didn’t know.

“If you come a step closer I will fucking END you-“

“- you don’t carry a gun.”

There was only one person in the world who could be truly certain of that decision. Steve fucking Harrington.

A beat passed and before he could say anything else, you’d thrown yourself at him. You both fell to the ground – Steve breaking your fall with his body and letting out an ow – and for a split second, you weren’t sure you were decking him or fighting him. The decision came to you naturally, it turned out, because when he tried to sit up, you tackled him back into the ground with a hug. Steve sat there aimlessly for a second, but quickly wrapped his gangly arms back around you.

“Fuck,” you murmured. “What the fuck, Steve?!”

“Couldn’t I be asking you the same thing?!” he demanded. “You’ve been ignoring my calls for a year!”

You took a step back from the hug, glowering for a moment. “I haven’t. I promise.”

“Well you haven’t been answering them-“

“- it was Eddie and Robin!” you cut him off. “We moved in together…it’s too fucking long to explain, but they are meddlers. They are meddling meddlers. I’ve spent the last year waiting for you to call Steve and for fuck’s sake, man! It’s me. If you are genuinely stupid enough to think that I would willingly ignore your calls then you don’t know me at all!”

Steve was silent for a second. That was a lot of information to process. It was good information – encouraging, indeed - but it also meant he had to change his entire worldview that he’d spent the last year adjusting to. Not unlike you had in the last hour.

“Besides…” you carried on. Yeah, it was all coming out now. “You’re the one who accidentally confessed your love for me. You’re the one who ran away! So even if I had been ignoring your calls, who’s to say it wasn’t justified?”

“No, yeah…you’re right,” Steve murmured. “I’m sorry. I really am. I know that doesn’t cut it at all. It doesn’t even begin to make it right but if you would just give me the chance, I promise I will make it up to you.”

“A chance?” you raised your eyebrows. “What kind of chance?”

“The same kind of chance I asked for the night you left for college almost two years ago,” he said. “The chance that’s been fucked over and over because of bad timing-”

“- have you ever considered that maybe you were the one who was about twelve hours behind everyone else?”

“Have you ever considered that maybe you were twelve hours ahead?”

You smiled. “Get to the point, Steve.”

“I love you,” Steve declared. He flung his arms out at as he did, almost as though he were announcing it to the dark clouds above you. “I’m sorry for running away, but in doing it, I realised there’s only one place I want to run and that’s to wherever you are. Even if it’s almost midnight, by a lake, on a freezing cold night.”

“How did you even know I was here?” you asked.

“You have three places you go when you’re not home and that’s here, my house or the record shop and – look, I don’t want to rush you, but it would be really wonderful if we could circle back to where you stand vis-à-vis that love declaration-”

“- fucking obviously I love you too,” you cut him off.

Steve smiled.  There was no doubt in his mind that you were still seething but finally, after two years of swings-and-roundabouts, you’d finally said the same thing at the same time. It had been a two year long head-ache – one you still felt dizzy from – but hey. You’d finally caught each other at the same moment. And god forbid you’d ever let him go.

“But this has to be it now, Steve,” you poked him in the chest. “No one-night stands, no other people, no bullshit. I can’t take bullshit.”

“This is it,” he said affirmatively. “I promise. I’m not ever letting you out of my sight again.”

“You promise?”

Steve grabbed your hand, pulling your pinky out of your balled up fist and wrapping it around his. “You have my word.”

Finally, he kissed you.

You’d kissed multiple times before; that fateful night two years ago, the even more fateful one in New York, and the time it almost happened in the lake just two miles from where you were stood. All of those things had taken you a step closer to this but the moment in itself felt like a weight off your shoulders. Almost like it was something that had been written in the stars since the first day you’d thrown a Lego brick at him, and both of you had been holding your breath waiting for you to happen ever since.

“I’m gonna kill Robin and Eddie, by the way,” you quietly said.

“Don’t,” Steve murmured against you. “I only just got you back. I can’t have you going to prison.”

"Yeah, fair point," you laughed. "Besides, if I can forgive you, I can forgive them."

"Hey!"

"Sorry..." you trailed off. "I love you."

Steve smiled. "I love you too."

[maerinhearts]

Apprehensive

It's your three month anniversary with Kirishima Tooru, the man of your dreams. Nothing beats spending quality time together...

Warnings: fem!bodied reader, mentions of previous bad sexual encounters (it doesn't go into detail), slight choking (like once), creampie, overstimulation

Word Count: 7,800+

Smut is below the cut.

MDNI pleaseeee, for the love of everything good on this earth.

A/N: I'm proud of the plot on this one, not too proud of the smut, so please be nice :')

There might be actual hearts in your eyes as the waitress sets your plate of food down in front of you. As if on cue, your stomach growls. You had been waiting for this meal all week. Not just because of the fancy restaurant you were in and the delicious food you were about to scarf down, but because of the man currently sat across the table from you. You glance up to look at him but find that the waitress is now setting his food down in front of him, leaning over a little too far, low cut shirt doing the bare minimum to hide the swell of her breasts from the entire restaurants gaze.

You feel your eye twitch at that, suddenly feeling possessive. When she asks if you guys need anything else, she directs the question at him, as if you weren’t even there. This happened quite often on dates with him. You found the waitresses would unabashedly flirt with him in front of you, it never bothered you before. You know your boyfriend is hot, but for some reason this waitress was getting under your skin. Perhaps it was because even you could tell she was beautiful, anyone with eyes could see that.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out, covering your hand with his on the table. “Did you need anything else from the waitress?”

Your eyes move from his hand on yours to the waitress who was sneering down at you. You knew this was his way of subtly putting her in her place. After all, he would never purposefully hurt a woman. If you were being honest with yourself, you wished he would go off on her and not hold back.

Pushing the feeling aside, you force the sweetest smile you can muster up for her. “No, thank you. I’m okay for now,” you answer and with a roll of her eyes, she leaves your table.

You let out a small sigh as his hand leaves yours and pick up your utensils to dig into your meal, finally. You grumble to yourself as you stir your food around to pick up your first bite, annoyed at the waitress for hitting on your boyfriend and annoyed at your boyfriend for not telling said waitress off.

“Are you alright?”

You glare at your boyfriend across the table and shove a spoonful of food into your mouth.

“No,” you say around your mouthful of food. You swallow. “Why do you have to be so hot?”

He bursts out laughing at you, covering his mouth with his elbow so he doesn’t disturb the whole restaurant. Your glare deepens as you continue eating and he continues laughing.

“Where did that come from?” he finally asks you, still slightly laughing. His face is dusted with a pretty pink blush, obviously affected by your strange way of complimenting him.

You set your silverware down with a huff. “Every restaurant we go to, the waitresses and hostesses are always throwing themselves at you. It’s annoying.”

He quirks an eyebrow up at this. “Well, I’m only interested in you,” he states matter-of-factly.

You feel your face heat up and you snatch your silverware back off the table. “I know,” you grumble before taking another bite of your food.

The both of you continue eating, conversation flowing between you naturally. You found your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much, but you were happy to be here and celebrating your three-month anniversary with him.

“I was thinking we could watch a movie on my couch after dinner?” you suggest as the both of you finish up your meals.

“I can think of doing something better after dinner,” he offers, not looking at you, eyes trained on his meal as he picks up another bite of his food.

You glance up at him, puzzled yet intrigued on what he thinks could be better than cuddling on the couch and spending time together. “What’s that?” you ask, frowning.

“You.” He’s making direct eye contact with you now.

Your eyes widen, surprised, and you avert your gaze, face heating up at his comment. You grumble to yourself as you take another bite of food. When you steal a glance up at him again, he has an eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” you mumble, mainly to yourself. You wanted to be with him, in every way possible. He was being incredibly patient with you as well. Here you were, at your three-month anniversary dinner. It was the longest any man had stuck around in almost five years. You were thankful for him.

“I’ve got all the time in the world for you,” he replies sincerely, voice soft.

You’re too anxious to look up at him, so you keep your gaze down, butterflies erupting in your abdomen at his admission. “Good,” you say lightheartedly, cutting into your entrée again, “because we might be elderly by the time we do it.”

Tooru chuckles at that, shaking his head before going back to his meal.

When you finish eating, you set your utensils on the empty plate and push it to the center of the table. It’s silent for a second as Tooru finishes up his meal as well.

“You know,” you start as you pull your phone out of your bag to check the time. “No guy has ever made me cum during sex before.”

Across from you, he begins choking on his last bite of food, coughing to try to dislodge whatever got stuck in his throat. The topic was still on intimacy, right? What you said wasn’t too far off what the conversation was about, was it? Also, isn’t it normal for a girl to not cum? To not really enjoy it?

You feel your face heat up in embarrassment as Tooru pounds his chest with his fist before chugging his water. He covers his face with one hand as you pull your phone up to cover your own face, body sliding down in your chair to shield yourself.

He couldn’t stop the smile that was threatening the corners of his mouth. It was like you had dumped gasoline on a small flame within him, the flame that desires only you. He could feel his body heating up. He could feel his competitive nature begin to rise. He was holding back on intimacy for your sake. You had confided in him about some past sexual encounters, so he vowed to take things as slow as you wanted. It killed him. He wanted to touch you so bad. He began leaving lingering touches, lingering kisses. Fingertips pressing into your waist a second longer than usual. Lips hovering over yours after a quick kiss. Hands holding your delicate face long enough to commit every single one of your features to his memory.

And now, after you said such a daring thing in a restaurant full of people, he couldn’t wait to get you underneath him, to make you cum as many times as your body could handle.

He slowly lowers his hand to his lap, fisting the fabric of his slacks in both hands to keep himself from dragging you right out of this restaurant without paying.

You peak around your phone at him to find him staring at you with a heated gaze, eyes alight behind his glasses. You sit up in your seat again, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table as you quirk an eyebrow at him.

“What-”

Before you can finish, his hand darts across the table to grab your chin and pull you closer to him. One of your hands wraps around his wrist as the other tries to find purchase on the table. He leans close, lips a breath away from yours.

“I’ll make you cum until you can’t anymore,” he promises, voice soft and husky. You gulp as his words head straight to your core and you clench your thighs together. Never before had he been so bold with you. His touches were always gentle, always fleeting. But this…

His fingers loosen from around your chin and move to caress your cheek before he presses a soft kiss against your mouth. You’re too shocked to react and kiss him back, frozen in your seat wondering why the hell that was so hot.

Like she was put on this Earth to interrupt you, the waitress comes by to ask Tooru how things are going. He sweetly asks for the check and, before you know it, he is pulling you from the booth and holding your coat out for you to put on. You’re like a robot on autopilot as you shove your arms into the coat, and he fixes it on your shoulders.

You don’t remember the last time a man had turned you on that easily, that quickly or that much. If you had to guess, never, probably. You had gotten turned on before while kissing him, body and mind so incredibly touch starved that it just felt good to have his hands on you in any type of way. In fact, the last time the two of you were making out, he had to pull himself away and off of you. You had rolled your hips up against his, eager for more friction, but the way your body trembled beneath him had him on edge. He had parked himself on the edge of your bed facing away from you, shaking hands fisted into the fabric of his pants as he took deep breaths.

You had wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind him, placing your chin in the crook of his neck. You waited until he explained to you that if you were still shaking that much, it meant you weren’t ready. He couldn’t do that to you even if you had asked and, funny enough, you were about to ask. You remember feeling relieved when he left that night. Relieved that he had pulled himself away because, in reality, you really weren’t ready.

And you had avoided him like the plague after that. Coming up with excuses to not see him because you were so embarrassed. Lucky for him, he caught on to what was going on pretty quickly and, after two weeks of avoiding him, he came by on a day he knew you were off work and knocked on the door. Unannounced. You opened the door without hesitation, expecting your best friend to be on the other side, ready to lecture you for avoiding Tooru… Again.

“For the last time, Yuki,” you began yelling as you turned the doorknob, “Kirishima probably doesn’t want to see me-” Your sentence had come to a full stop at the sight of who was actually on the other side of the door. “Anyway…” you finish, voice soft.

His look of pure annoyance was enough to make anyone run for the hills, and you had tried to make yourself look as small as possible under his gaze. After all, he was the Demon of the Sakuragi Family.

“Don’t put words into my mouth, Y/N,” he said through gritted teeth.

You had averted your gaze as tears welled up in your eyes. And just as you were about to fall to your knees in front of him to beg him not to leave you, he caught your body in his arms and crushed you to his chest. That’s when you knew that he was different.

“And it’s Tooru to you,” he had told you softly before he tightened his arms around you.

The memory of that night fades as you feel warmth on your thigh. You turn your gaze from the passing scenery outside the car window to the hand that was laying palm up on your thigh. You glance up at Tooru whose gaze was still on the road. When you look down, he wiggles his nimble fingers at you wordlessly. Understanding what he wants, you place your hand in his, threading your fingers together with a small smile. He holds you tightly, bringing your hand up to kiss the back.

“Go on in without me,” Tooru says as you get out of the car at your apartment. He pulls his cigarettes from his pocket, taking one and putting the cancer stick between his lips. He goes to light it but stops when he notices you glaring at him. “What?” The cigarette bounces between his lips at the word.

“When are you going to stop smoking?” you ask him, glare deepening. “It’s bad for you, you know.” You cross your arms at him.

He sighs, slipping his lighter back into his pocket and taking the cigarette from his mouth between his index finger and thumb, still unlit. He steps closer to you, and you just tilt your head back to maintain eye contact with him, still glaring. With his free hand, he tilts your chin back more with his index finger, eyes darting all around your face. With his thumb, he traces your bottom lip delicately. You can feel your glare falter as he leans down, warm breath fanning over your face.

“If I got to see your pretty face every day, it would be easy to quit,” he murmurs, voice hanging between the two of you in the cold air. He kisses your forehead. “But I don’t,” he says playfully as he steps back, pulling his lighter back out from his pocket. “So, I smoke because I have to deal with a bunch of meatheads every day.” He lights the cigarette, inhaling the tobacco and blowing it out to his side, away from you. “Not to mention, my partner is a knucklehead.” He taps the butt of the cigarette and ashes fall to the ground.

You glare at him again. “Don’t talk about Sugihara like that, Tooru,” you scold.

“It’s true!” he argues as he blows out another puff of smoke.

“Sugihara is an angel,” you tell him. “He does everything you tell him to without complaining! You don’t even have to do any of the leg work when you guys patrol together!”

He raises an eyebrow at you as he pulls another drag from his cigarette, turning to blow it to his side again. “Oh?” he starts before he takes the last drag of the stick and throws it to the ground, stepping on it to put it out as he steps closer to you again. “If he’s such an angel-” He comes toe to toe with you, hand coming up to squish your cheeks together, lips pushing out. “-why don’t you date him instead, hmm?”

You glare up at him, hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, the other fisting into the front of his exposed shirt. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” you tell him around your squished face.

He grins wickedly. “Then who do you want to be with, pretty girl?” he murmurs, voice thick. “Go on, tell me who you want.”

Your breath catches in your throat as heat pools in the pit of your stomach again, butterflies racing through your chest. What was with you today? Why did he have this much of an effect on you?

He releases your face, hand skimming along your skin as it finds it’s place on the back of your neck, thumb firmly pressed on the underside of your jaw. You fist both hands into the front of his shirt now, unconsciously pulling him flush against you, lips a heartbeat away from each other. So close that your next words are spoken into his mouth.

“You,” you breathe. “I want you.”

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours at the action before he firmly presses his mouth into yours.

You swallow a groan as his free arm finds its way into your open jacket and around your waist, pressing you tighter against him. His tongue glides across your bottom lip, but instead of you opening your mouth to him, you press your lips together and giggle as he pulls back to look at you with an annoyed face.

He lifts his head away from you, falling back to look at the sky before he sighs and presses his lips against your forehead. “Let’s go inside,” he says, grabbing your shoulders and turning you around towards the door. “It’s cold.”

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles up in your chest as he pushes you into your apartment, grumbling to himself as he takes his shoes off by the door before he helps you take your coat off and hangs it in your closet. You pad through your apartment to the kitchen as Tooru hangs his coat up next to yours. It was the weekend, at least, so he planned on staying over at your place tonight. It isn’t the first time he is staying with you, but the electricity in the air as he breezes past you to your bathroom is new.

It sends a chill up your spine and you grip the bottle of wine you pulled from your fridge a little harder, turning to look at the empty space he left when he walked past you. You take a deep breath to ground yourself before reaching for the wine glasses you bought especially for this occasion. You surprise yourself by finding that your hands are steady, and you silently celebrate as you pour the wine, a smile stuck on your face. You had been mentally preparing for this dinner. He had planned the dinner himself for your anniversary, but the week leading up to this, you prepared yourself to finally take the leap. To finally be his in every way possible. To finally let him have you.

His words from before haunted you: “If you’re still shaking this much, you aren’t ready.” It never dawned on you before that your shaking was your anxiety surrounding being intimate. Sure, you were anxious about what might happen tonight, but the excitement you felt outweighed the anxiety. You were ready.

“Hmm? What are you smiling about?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at Tooru’s voice, surprised to find him standing in front of you with an eyebrow raised, glasses gone.

“N-nothing,” you mumble, turning your face away as it heats up and taking a drink of your wine.

“Is this for me?” he asks as he picks up the other glass of wine you prepared.

“Yes,” you reply. “I picked it out especially for tonight.” You turn back to face him, giddy to see what he thought of your favorite wine.

Considering Tooru wasn’t much of a wine drinker (he was more of a liquor guy), you were excited to see his reaction. He swirls the liquid around in the glass, something he had seen people do in movies, before he peers over the top of the glass to look at its crimson contents. He frowns before bringing the glass up and smelling it.

You knit your eyebrows together as you feel your eye twitch. Leave it to Tooru to check out every aspect of the wine before even attempting to touch the glass to his mouth. As if to annoy you even more, he pulls the glass away from his face and grabs up the bottle.

“Let’s see what this flavor is…” he murmurs as he regards the bottle in his hand. “Ah, a sweet red wine?”

You’re glaring at him now in between sips from your own glass. You’re about to kick him in the shins when he finally sets the bottle down and brings the brim to his lips.

You find yourself leaning forward in anticipation. He takes some of the wine into his mouth, swishing its contents around with a thoughtful, but pleased look. Then he swallows. And as the wine makes its way down his esophagus, he grimaces.

“Dry,” he states and sets the glass back onto the counter.

You hang your head in annoyance, not wanting him to see how his reaction affected you. But then your face is being tilted up and his lips are on yours in an instant. You gasp in surprise and his tongue delves into your open mouth. He swipes his tongue across yours quickly before pulling back and licking his lips.

“Tastes sweet on you,” he decides.

You’re too stunned to react as Tooru turns on his heel and flops onto your couch just ten feet away. Butterflies erupt across your chest again as you feel heat pool into your underwear. You quickly turn to face the counter and down the rest of your glass in one drink as your face heats up. Seriously, what is up with these reactions of yours tonight? It can’t be just you that is getting turned on by the dumbest things… right? You look over your shoulder to look at the man that is currently manspreading in your space.

Even that was hot!

You quickly turn back around to take a couple deep breaths.

“What did you want to watch?” he calls out to you.

You turn back around to face him. “Whatever you want,” you reply. “I’m going to go put some pajamas on.”

He watches your every move as you pass him to enter your bedroom. You close the door and lean back against it. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last without pouncing him, but you were determined to get through at least one movie with him before getting him into your bed under the premise that it was bedtime. It was already pretty late after all.

You hold the nightgown you chose specifically for tonight in your hands. It was a low cut, spaghetti strap gown. The hem stopped mid-thigh and it was lace trimmed. The neckline did little to hide your cleavage, especially with no bra. It was pretty much skintight, but the slit that ran up your left leg gave you just enough room to breathe. You look at yourself in the mirror and can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips as your eyes land on the small bow that was nestled in between your breasts. Almost like it was taunting. You turn yourself slightly in the mirror to get a look at the whole gown.

“Alright,” you say to yourself. “I can do this.” You put your feet back into your slippers and take a deep breath before opening your bedroom door.

You make your way back to your living room with a newfound determination.

“I put on your favorite,” he mentions without looking at you, eyes trained on the TV as the opening to Tarzan plays.

As you walk around the couch to your designated spot beside him, he glances up at you for the first time. His eyes widen as he takes in what you are wearing, caught off guard at the barely there nightgown you had chosen. It wasn’t much different from what you normally wore, he guesses. He tries not to read too much into it as you plop yourself beside him on the couch and press yourself into his side. He’s almost too scared to touch you that he doesn’t move his arm from the back of the couch.

You don’t make a comment about it. Instead, you thank him for putting on your favorite movie and thus begins the one hour and twenty-eight minutes of torture you have to endure to wait for bedtime.

Tooru isn’t fairing much better beside you. His eyes haven’t left the TV since the movie started and his left hand was now gripping the cushion of the back of the couch so tight that his fingers were beginning to hurt. Luckily, he had changed into some baggie sweatpants, and he had used his free hand to cover his half-hard erection with the baggie tee shirt he was wearing as well, so you had no idea the effect your little get up had on him. He wasn’t entirely sure what to think about it all. He couldn’t tell if you had done this on purpose or if your motives were innocent. Either way, he was scared of what he might do once he gets into your bed for the night. He thinks he might not be able to stop himself.

As for you, your heart was beating so loud in your chest that you were glad yours and Tooru’s positions weren’t switched. You were on edge and kind of glad he wasn’t touching you. You feared how you might react if his hands were on you. You could wait. You could definitely wait. You wanted this to be special…

And so when the end credits finally roll, you find yourself jumping off the couch a little too quickly, announcing that you were going to brush your teeth and wait for him in bed. As you skip off, Tooru balances his elbows on his knees and drops his face into his hands. What was he going to do? He knew that if he got into bed with you looking like that, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Maybe if he laid facing away from you…

Yes, that’s it. He’ll just lay facing away from you.

When he finishes brushing his teeth, he walks around your place to shut everything off and double check the locks on the door. He closes your blinds and curtains before making his way to your dark bedroom, finding you exactly where you said you would be.

You had been staring up at the ceiling for the last 10 minutes listening to him shuffle about your apartment like he normally did when he stayed over. He always turned everything off for you before getting into bed. A man’s job, he had told you once.

Your room was small, your bed pressed up against two walls in the corner of the room. When Tooru stays over, you sleep closest to the wall so Tooru could sleep closest to the door. Also, a man’s job, he had told you when you asked. You didn’t quite understand it, but you assumed it was the same as him putting you on the inside of the sidewalk when you guys walked together.

When he finally enters your bedroom, you feel your heart skip a beat upon seeing his silhouette in your door frame. Wordlessly, he pulls the covers on your bed back and climbs in beside you. Without so much as glancing your way, he turns to face away from you.

“Good night, darling,” he tells you.

You frown. Then your frown turns into a glare. You turn on your side and prop yourself up on your elbow to look at his back.

“No kiss good night?” you ask, voice laced with annoyance.

He turns over onto his back, eyes closed and puckers his lips out for a kiss. You draw in a deep breath, suddenly very annoyed with whatever game he is playing. So you don’t move. You wait.

After a very long 30 seconds, he opens one eye to look at you, lips still puckered. He finds you staring at him with narrowed eyes.

“What?” he asks innocently. He opens both eyes to fully look at you. And he wishes he wouldn’t have. With the way your body was propped with your elbow, your nightgown was gaping, showing your breasts so deliciously pressed together and threatening to spill out of the fabric. If you moved even slightly in his direction, he would be catching a nip slip. He felt his mouth water. He quickly covers his face with his hands to keep himself from pushing you back against the mattress and having his way with you.

“Why won’t you look at me?” you ask, voice small.

Oh, no, Tooru thinks.

“Y/N,” he starts, face still covered. “If I look at you, I’m going to want to touch you. And if I touch you, I’m not going to want to stop. And if I don’t stop-”

“Look at me, then.”

Tooru freezes, breath caught in his throat as he slowly lowers his hands. His eyes stay trained on the ceiling as he swallows the lump in his throat.

“Tooru,” you murmur, hand reaching out to grab his. You lean closer to him. “Look at me,” you whisper.

The next thing you know, you’re on your back underneath him, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. He fits his right leg in between yours, pressing his knee right up against you. You snap your mouth shut at the feeling and gulp. Your hands fist into the sheets at your sides as you look at the man above you. His eyes are closed again, head hanging as he takes in labored breaths through his nose to calm himself down.

You reach a hand up to touch his face. “Too-” He catches you off guard by catching your hand just before you can touch him. When he finally opens his eyes, he makes direct eye contact with you as he brings your hand towards his face and kisses the inside of your wrist. You suck in a breath as your body squirms beneath him, accidentally rubbing yourself right against the thigh that was currently pressed against you.

He presses it harder into you in response as he drops your hand and leans down. Both yours and his breathing is the only sound in the room. Your breathing picks up in anticipation as his face gets closer to yours until he is pressing his lips to your cheek and gently nudging your head to the side with his own. He presses his lips to the underside of your jaw, and you close your eyes, small gasp leaving your lips as he continues trailing the softest kisses down your neck.

Every touch of his lips on your skin sends electricity down your spine, arousal settling at the base and only growing stronger as his lips reach your collar bone. Your breathing is labored, chest rising and falling rapidly underneath him. When he pulls back to look at you, he feels his self-control crumble and slip right through his fingers. Your lips are parted, cheekbones dusted a pretty pink, pupils blown wide and eyes heavy lidded.

Without looking away, he pushes your legs apart with his other knee, fitting himself right in between your thighs, hips centimeters away from yours, his own knees spread apart and resting on either side of your hips. His hands are pressed into the pillow beside your head, the only part of your bodies touching is where your thighs are pressed into his hips. He stays like that, for a long moment.

He’s apprehensive about going too fast.

You’re over that. You’re over the anxiety, the nervousness, the anticipation. Without thinking twice, and moving faster than Tooru can register, you tangle your hands into his hair and pull his mouth to yours. He grunts as your lips connect, caught off guard, but the sound is quickly replaced with a low moan as you press your tongue into his mouth.

As he slides his tongue against yours, you let out the softest moan and he finally presses his hips firmly into yours. You gasp as you feel his cock press right up against you, arousal pooling into your panties as he barely rocks his hips into yours.

He pulls back to look at you, to make sure you’re okay after that gasp you let out, eyes panicked as he searches your face. He brings his hand up to caress your face.

“Are you-” You catch his wrist before he can finish his sentence and press his palm right against your breast.

“Touch me,” you breathe out.

If you weren’t so caught up in the moment and dead set on doing this with him, you could laugh at the way Tooru’s jaw goes slack and the far away look in his eyes. He wasn’t expecting this, not tonight. He was willing to wait years for you to be ready, but now that you were he felt unprepared. He finally looks down at your body beneath his. Your nightgown was bunched up at your hips, thighs parted to accommodate him, hair splayed out against the pillow. He could see your nipple that wasn’t covered with his hand through the fabric of the nightgown, erect and pressing into the cotton. And when he looked further down, he could see your underwear barely peeking out from the hem of your nightgown. He could also see the wet spot forming and his heart skips a beat.

He slides his hands to your waist and your eyes follow his movements. His fingertips glide to your hips before he is fitting them underneath the fabric of your nightgown, pressing them directly into the warm skin of your waist, just above the band of your panties. You suck in a breath as you feel his cool hands on your bare skin, trying not to squirm beneath him as he moves those same hands up and up, pushing your nightgown up your body to your waist, revealing your underwear and navel to his gaze.

He caresses your skin so gently, hands moving to smooth against your thighs. Without thinking, he moves his hands to the inside of your thighs, coming to a stop at the edge of your panties before he firmly parts your thighs to get a good look at the underwear you chose to wear tonight.

You’re practically panting underneath him, arousal leaking into your underwear again underneath his gaze. You had chosen a pair of cotton underwear that was lace trimmed, the same color of your nightgown as well. It also had a little bow on the waistband.

Tooru’s mouth waters as he looks down at you, thighs spread for him. He can feel himself come alive above you, finally. Now that you had given him explicit permission to touch you, he wasn’t going to hold himself back anymore.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, eyes moving up to meet yours. “If you don’t tell me now, I’m not going to be able to stop,” he informs you, voice breathy. You gulp, thoughts racing a million miles a minute, but not a single one of them is telling you that you shouldn’t go through with this. Every single thought is begging him to touch you, to kiss you, to lick you, to be inside of you. Have you ever wanted this this badly before?

You swallow thickly. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper.

He throws his head back and groans. “I need you to be sure about this,” he says to the ceiling.

You knit your eyebrows together into a frown. “Tooru.” Your voice is even, much to your surprise, and he looks back down at you with wide eyes. You relax your face when you see just how anxious he is. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Take them off,” you blurt out.

His hands go slack against you in surprise, confused look plastered on his face before he feels you pushing at his hands, encouraging him to take your underwear off. He pulls them off your hips and you maneuver your body to help him get them off, knees pressed up against your own chest as he pulls them off your ankles and tosses them to the floor. You stay like that until he is grabbing your knees with his hands and pushing your thighs apart to press his hips right back up against you, hands pressing into the pillow next to your head. He meets your gaze as he rolls his hips experimentally into yours, clothed cock somehow rubbing right in between your folds.

You gasp and arch your back, pressing your nightgown clad tits right up into his chest. He smirks as he feels himself come alive with confidence above you. If just that one action gets this sort of reaction, how quickly can he get you to be putty in his hands?

Without thinking, he yanks down the top of your nightgown to expose your breasts to him, right hand cupping the underside of your left breast and squeezing as he brings his mouth down to your now bare nipple. He sucks the bud into his mouth, and you writhe beneath him, breast pressing further into his mouth and hips grinding up against his. He moves to give the same attention to your other breast, and you press your head back into your pillow at the feeling.

As you lift your hips up to grind against him again, he presses your hips down into the mattress. You watch as he moves his body down your own, hands moving to the underside of your thighs and pressing them into your body, exposing you to him. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening pussy and without wasting any more time, he moves to press his lips right against your clit.

You suck in a breath through your teeth as he opens his mouth and presses his tongue against you, moan bubbling up in your throat as he circles your clit with it. He presses an open mouth kiss against you before diving down to lap up the arousal at your entrance. You moan from beneath him, hand finding its way into his hair and pressing him further into you. He’s slow with his ministrations, tongue drawing lazy figure eights against you before sucking your clit into his mouth and licking up the wetness accumulating on your sex.

You’re a mess beneath him and he’s enjoying it. You’re thrusting your hips up into his face every time his tongue drags across your clit and he’s trying not to smirk against you. Just when you think he is done, he picks up his pace, tongue sloppily flicking repeatedly against your clit. You feel your orgasm building up at a rapid speed, threatening to tumble you straight over the edge until he pulls away, sitting back up on his knees and placing himself between your thighs.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, lips pulling up into a smirk as he looks down at you gasping beneath him. “You taste fucking delicious,” he comments, and you feel your face heat up. You clench around nothing at his statement, hips rolling up against his subconsciously. He raises an eyebrow at that.

Wordlessly, he begins taking his clothes off and you watch as he tosses his shirt, sweats and boxers onto the floor beside your bed. You swallow thickly as his unveils his cock, eyes darting up to his face as he fits himself back between your thighs, pressing himself right against your pussy.

You gasp as he covers your body with his own, cock rubbing slightly against you as he shifts above you.

“Baby,” he whispers to you. You make eye contact with him, and he rubs his cock against you, as if he was rewarding you. You moan as he rolls his hips against you again, the head of his cock bumping right against your clit.

“Tooru,” you gasp out. “Stop it.”

He smirks as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, lips pressing sloppy kisses into your skin. “Stop what?” he rolls his hips against you again, breath catching in his own throat at the feeling of your pussy rubbing right against the head of his cock.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing his body down against your own. “Just fuck me already,” you whisper into his ear.

His brain short circuits at that, body stilling against yours. When he finally comes back to life, he reaches between your body to grasp the base of his cock. It was like you had lit him on fire with just those four words. He wastes no time pressing the head of his cock to your entrance, pussy sucking him right in.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as he presses himself further into you. You whimper beneath him as he stretches you out. He leans back to look at you, brushing your hair out of your face as he bottoms out. Your eyebrows are knit together at the burn of him filling you for the first time. He stills above you, bringing his lips down to press against yours before pulling back to look at you beneath him.

His eyes fall to where the two of you are connected. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. He finds himself pulling his hips back, an inch of his cock pulling out of you before he slowly presses back into you to watch it disappear. You moan at the feeling.

“You feel so fucking good,” he gasps out. You involuntarily clench around him at his words, face heating up as his gaze darts up to meet your own. You turn your face away from him, but his hand finds itself around your neck, slightly squeezing and you turn back to look at him, pussy clenching around him again.

He slowly begins rocking his hips into you, finally.

“So tight,” he grounds out as he picks up his pace, hand leaving your neck to spread your thighs further apart.

You moan unabashedly as he fucks into you, body on fire with pleasure. “Faster,” you breathe.

He obliges, picking up his pace until he is practically slamming into you, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. You cry out beneath him, hands fisting into the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck, you take me so well, baby, look at you,” he praises, and it sends you right over the edge without warning, orgasm washing over you heavily, body spasming and shaking beneath him violently. He quickly presses his chest against yours, pressing his lips against your own in a sloppy kiss as he slowly fucks you through your first orgasm of the night. You moan into his mouth as you come down, body finally settling as he pulls back to look at your fucked out face.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” he tells you, voice thick. You feel your face heat up underneath his gaze, closing your eyes to avoid looking at him. “Again.”

Your eyes fly back open. “Again?” you ask, incredulous. “I don’t know-” You’re cut off as he begins thrusting into you again, mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“You can give me another one, baby doll,” he says. “I know you can.”

He shifts, angling his hips to thrust up into you, hitting a spot inside you you’ve never felt before. You’re practically sobbing beneath him now, hands pushing at his abdomen. He just grabs up your wrists and pins them to the mattress.

“That’s it, my pretty baby,” he praises you again. “Come for me again.”

You’re so wet from your previous orgasm that you can hear him enter you over and over, the sound so lewd. You feel your walls clamp down on him as your second orgasm approaches quickly.

“Come on, pretty,” he encourages you.

“Wait,” you gasp out as tears fall from your eyes at the overstimulation. Before you can say another word, the cord in your belly snaps again, orgasm washing over you so violently.

Tooru is a moaning mess above you as your pussy pulses around him, he’s trying so hard to keep his orgasm at bay. He’s determined to make you come one more time before he lets himself go. He caresses your body as you slowly calm back down, body stilling, but breaths still coming out in short gasps.

“One more,” he tells you and you feel your lip quiver.

This time, though, he rolls his hips into you, slowing the pace way down as he presses kisses along the expanse of your chest.

“So fucking good,” he whispers into your skin and your hands find their way into his locks. You moan as his cock hits just the right spot inside you again, stars erupting in your vision as pain blurs into the line of pleasure.

“So fucking pretty.”

You wrap your legs around his hips as he continues rutting into you, your own hips moving to meet every roll of his. He moans out your name against your skin.

“Close,” he breathes as his thrusts become sloppy.

Before you can react, he groans out from above you, spilling his seed into you as you reach your third orgasm. He’s a wreck above you, moaning every time your walls flutter around him.

“F-fuck,” he stutters as he presses himself to the hilt one last time, finally stilling before collapsing on top of you.

You don’t know how long you lay like that together before he leaves the room and comes back to clean you up, warm wash rag collecting the seed spilling out of you. You hiss as he wipes you down, sleepily glaring at him with one eye open. He apologizes profusely with every swipe of the rag against your body.

He leaves the room once more, coming back with a glass of water that he hands to you before he pulls his boxers back on. You sit up and down the glass, gulping the liquid down like you’d never had water before in your life, some of it spilling out of the sides of your mouth and down your chest. You thrust the empty glass back out at Tooru who takes it and sets it on the bedside table.

You flop back against the pillows, closing your eyes with a sigh. The bed dips as Tooru climbs in beside you, suddenly feeling shy. He lays away from you for a solid minute before he lets out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl and turns to pull you right against his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “I wasn’t too rough, was I? Did I hurt you?”

You wrap your arms around his bare waist. “I’m okay,” you reassure him. Your face heats up again. “It felt… really good…”

“You’re not just saying that, are you, darling?”

“Tooru,” you laugh.

When you pull back to look at him, you see him pouting.

“You’re the first guy to ever make me come,” you tell him. “And three times, at that…” you mumble the last bit under your breath, but he hears it. He feels his body heating up again, competitive nature threatening to take over once again.

“I can make it four,” he tells you seriously.

“Tooru!” you yell at him.

“I love it when you yell at name like that,” he teases.

“It’s bedtime,” you remind him. You kiss him on the lips. “Good night.”

You close your eyes, ready for sweet sleep to welcome you when you hear him say something under his breath, voice so soft and so airy you almost miss it.

“I love you.”

[wolfsclothing6]

Jeff was my one uncle who was open and honest. He always told it like it was and was okay with me doing the same with him. Not like my other uncle and my three aunts, who said they wanted to have an open and honest relationship with me…but then squirmed uncomfortably when I started telling them about my life. It was no surprise that Uncle Jeff was my favorite of all of my parents’ siblings.

But, even as blunt and boundary-less as he was, it still surprised me when - during a break between rounds of racquetball at the local health club - Uncle Jeff, as he was wiping his brow with a towel, asked me out of the blue, “So, Kenny… Tell me. How exactly to you find guys to meet up with for dating…or sex…or whatever it is you call it these days?”

Uncle Jeff was cool with me being gay. And, I was reasonably certain that, if I ever had a problem in that area that I didn’t feel comfortable going to Mom or Dad about, I could go to him for help or advice. That was more than I thought I could expect from Uncle Scott, Aunt Sheila, Aunt Margaret, and Aunt Bridget. But, I didn’t think he was THAT cool with me being gay. After all, it’s one thing to love your nephew even though there’s something about him that you don’t quite understand. It’s a whole other ball of wax to ask for “gory” details about his sex life.

But, he’d asked the question. I decided I wasn’t going to sugar-coat or censor my answer. “I have a couple different hook-up sites that I have profiles on. That’s usually how I find guys to spend time with.”

“Hook-up sites?”

This is probably the part where, if you didn’t know my Uncle Jeff, you’d start to wonder if he was pretending to be clueless. After all, what 52 year old man is so out of touch that he wouldn’t know what a hook-up site is? But, I knew Uncle Jeff pretty well. He’s about as straight-laced as they come. It was totally believable to me that he was completely ignorant in this area. That’s why I wasn’t the slightest bit condescending or patronizing when I answered him. “They’re like eHarmony or Match.com, except for sex.”

Jeff looked dumbfounded. “You mean they actually let you advertise that you’re looking for sex?! Is that legal?”

“Yeah! This isn’t prostitution, Unc. No money’s being exchanged. I mean, the sites advertise themselves as dating sites for gay men. But, the implication is pretty clear. Most of the guys who create profiles on these sites aren’t looking JUST to go out for a beer and get to know each other.”

“Wow! In my day, if you wanted to get laid, you just went to a bar. Wait around long enough and there was always eventually some chick ready to give it up to you.”

I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that first. All this time spent online when I could’ve just gone to one of Morrisville’s MANY gay bars.” The town we lived in was over an hour away from any city that might register as large enough to actually have a gay bar in it. Online really was my only option when I wanted male companionship or a nice, hot fuck.

Uncle Jeff laughed along with me. “Okay. Point taken. We don’t exactly live in the most cosmopolitan and happening town in the country.“ After a few moments of silence, leading me to believe the conversation was over and we’d go back to playing racquetball, he spoke again. “I never would’ve figured in a million years that sites like that would exist. What do guys who have profiles say they’re looking for?”

For a brief moment, I gave him a side-eye. It was one thing to be curious about your nephew’s life. Things were progressing beyond simple curiosity now. But, I actually found it kind of endearing and sweet that Uncle Jeff had so few hangups about sexuality that he had no problem asking me these questions. “Anything and everything. Mild to wild, vanilla to exotic… Some guys are looking for specific things. Some guys have certain fetishes and fantasies that they want to play out. Guys are pretty much looking for anything under the rainbow on the sites I frequent…if you’ll pardon the pun.”

“Wow. Interesting…”

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool. I mean, it works for me,” I replied, just to have something to say back to him. He smiled at me and didn’t say anything right away, so I assumed we were done talking. “You ready for another game, old man?” I teased him.

He held his hand up to stop me from grabbing my racquet. “Wait a minute. We’ll play another game in just a second. I’m intrigued by the idea of a website dedicated to finding people to have sex with. Have you had any luck finding guys on the sites you go to?”

Okay. Now we were definitely way beyond curiosity. This wasn’t just Uncle Jeff trying to get to know his nephew. Was he asking because he wanted to know more about my life? Or, was something else behind this line of questioning? I wanted to clam up and tell him it wasn’t any of his business. But, what the hell… It felt like we were already through the looking glass. “Yeah. Some…” I answered vaguely. But, when I saw him standing there, looking at me expectantly, like he’d just paid for tickets to see Phantom of the Opera, I decided to tell him the truth. “I mean, I don’t have a different guy every day of the week, if that’s what you’re asking. But, at least once a week or once every couple weeks, I meet up with a guy through the site.” I could almost predict what his follow-up question would be, so I answered preemptively. “Sometimes I see the same guy more than once, sometimes it’s one and done.” He didn’t say anything right away…just fiddled with his towel and dabbed his forehead with it. Maybe I’d said too much. “I guess I told you more than you wanted to hear, huh Unc…”

To his credit, Uncle Jeff allayed my concerns. “No, no. Not at all. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think that. I’m just so fascinated by this idea of guys creating online profiles to meet up for sex. I gotta see this to believe it.”

Busted! I knew exactly what was going on here. But, I didn’t want to scare Uncle Jeff off or shame him into not moving forward. If pretending to be curious about my online activities was going to be the gateway to him doing it himself, I could play along. “I’m sure you know Mom and Dad are leaving on Friday to go out of town for the weekend. Why don’t you drop by the house on Friday night and I’ll show you the sites I’m registered on? I’ll even let you look at my profiles.” Yeah. I was a 26 year old who still lived at home. Another story for another time…

“Sounds good,” Uncle Jeff said with a huge smile. “I’ll even swing by and pick up a pizza on the way. We’ll hang out, watch a basketball game, too…or something.”

“Great!” I said, enthusiastically. “Now, can we get back to our game? I’m tired of you delaying the inevitable: me beating your ass!”

“Challenge accepted, young buck!” he said with a glint in his eye. “There may come a day when you’ll beat me. It’s part of the cycle of life. But that day is not today!” And off we went…

An hour later, as we left the gym and were about to part ways in the parking lot to head separately to our cars, I decided to take a risk and drop the facade we were perpetrating. “Hey, Uncle Jeff?”

He turned back to look at me. “Yeah, bud?”

I looked around to make sure no one was within ear shot. Once I was satisfied that no one was, I smiled. “Take a photo of yourself with your phone in either your bedroom or bathroom mirror. Bring it with you when you come by the house and I’ll help you get set up with a profile.” I winked at him after I finished speaking.

Uncle Jeff blushed, but then recovered and smirked at me. “I’ll see you on Friday night, Kenny.”

He gave me one last longing look, and then turned and headed for his car. I watched him go for a moment, taking in the sight of his nicely-muscled ass, before I headed to my own car. If I played my cards right, maybe Uncle Jeff would be up for letting me help him ease into the lifestyle before other guys started messaging him through the site.

[lemon-lime23]

takes place at the start of season 3, except we are just gonna pretend eddie and vickie are already introduced cause i said so thanks.

NO USE OF Y/N

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to be honest, you weren’t sure you would have ended up fucking steve harrington if it had not been for robin’s last minute idea for a summer kick-off trip for you older kids. after everything that had happened with will finally being resolved, you truly did deserve it. and when eddie told you guys that he had a place you could stay at, you didn’t question it. you had spent the week eating cold pizza and shotgunning beers by the fire, and if you were being completely truthful, you may or may not have smoked a tad bit of weed with the gang that night, so it was no surprise that you were all a little giddy. jonathan and nancy had made their escape back to the house about 30 minutes ago, and robin and vickie had retreated shortly after. that left you, steve, and eddie laying on the wooden dock that stretched out over lover’s lake. “airports are so fucking weird. like how is it possible that there are enough people traveling to the same place on the exact same date at the exact same time that could fill a whole plane,” steve drawled, twirling a piece of his hair around his finger over and over.

“well the planes aren’t always full,” you conceded.

“but it’s still a lot of people.”

eddie snorted, rubbing his hands over his eyes and pulling them down his cheeks. “i’m gonna leave you two lovebirds to discuss this very intellectual conversation, and return to the orgy that is my house.” he dismissed himself and worked his way back to the house, his gait uneven. eddie’s casual insinuation of romance between you and the boy laying laying next to you forced a hiccup up your throat.

you and steve were left laying there together, shoulder to shoulder, the sounds of the water lapping up against the wooden posts, while you stared upwards at the stars. the sun had gone down two -three?- hours ago, and there was no light pollution so far out into the woods, so you could see the details in the sky with such clarity. it was fairly comfortable outside, but as you had smoked more, you had begun to feel a bit warm. the rise in temperature could possibly have been attributed to what scientists called “the steve harrington phenomenon”, in which any location where steve harrington is, there is an astronomical increase in temperature.

they can’t explain it, as there is no logical scientific reason that the existence of one man could cause temperature fluctuations. of course you knew steve was hot, you could admit that. not to him though, of course. you also couldn’t admit your insanely long lasted crush you had on steve since you had met to him either. he was busy chasing every other girl besides YOU for the past 8 years that you had known him. you had fully dismissed any sort of possibility of you two together since junior year, while you watched him pin after, and eventually get together with nancy wheeler.

when they broke up, he was crushed, and you tried your best to comfort him, but he pushed you away. despite robin’s insistence that he definitely was NOT interested in nancy anymore, your feelings for him had become tucked away in the back of your heart. hey, as long as you were his friend, that would be enough for you, right?

“it’s so beautiful.”

you jumped a little as steve’s voice, quiet and a little rumbly, sliced through the silence. you let out a long breath. “we never really get to see it like this, do we?”

“i wish we could more,” he whispered

“well what’s stopping you.”

“can’t exactly up and leave when children are being possessed by shadow demons from another dimension and there are little alien monsters to be fought.”

“valid argument, except for the fact that you don’t really HAVE to stay if you don’t want to. you choose to.”

“i can’t leave dustin. he needs me,” he sighed, solemnly.

“i’ll be there to protect him, don’t worry,” you laugh.

“but who will be there to protect you,” he murmured, his finger shifting to lightly rub your forearm in small movements. your breath catched, hopefully not noticeably. you tried your best to speak without wavering your voice. “you don’t need to protect me steve.”

you could tell that he turned his head to stare at the side of your face, so close that if you turned your head towards him, your lips would be nearly touching. there was an overwhelming amount of heat in the air surrounding you, and you closed your eyes, trying to shut up your nerves. “i know i don’t, but i still want to. you are important to me,” he whispered, his breath tickling your cheek.

without considering the repercussions, you turned and pressed your forehead to his. he inhaled sharply, and his finger halted around your wrist. “then if you ever want to run away and stargaze, bring me along with you so you don’t have to worry.”

he opened his mouth just enough to share his breath with you. you were close enough to smell the warm, cinnamon sent coming off of him, along with remnants of smoke from the campfire and the smell of the weed you had smoked together. your lips were within millimeters of brushing, and your heart pounded against your rib cage, so loud you were sure he could hear it.

“honey-“

his words were cut off as you suddenly sat up and ran a hand through your hair. “are you hot?”

he looked at you, and you couldn’t tell if you were imagining the blush on his cheeks or if it was just the lighting. “what?”

“i’m gonna hop in the water to cool off for a bit, and then i’m gonna head inside cause i’m really tired,” you managed to spit out, quickly moving to your feet and towards the edge of the dock. he was silent as you dipped your foot in the water, testing how cold it was, or perhaps stalling to give him enough time to go back to the house. when you didn’t hear him shuffle up the path, you turned to find him sitting up, watching you. “can i join you?”

“i don’t have a dry swimsuit, steve,” you explained, hoping that he took the hint that this swim was going to be a naked one.

“i won’t look.”

you swallowed and studied his face. the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned, and he looked incredibly relaxed, as if skinny dipping with your incredibly hot friend was something that you would find normal. he also seemed pretty dead set on staying, based on the way he was planted in his spot.

“what if i want you to look,” you said in a moment of sudden confidence. he took a shaky breath, and slowly stood, walking over to you. he stopped inches away from you, chest heaving as his hands came up to caress your arms. he didn’t break eye contact with you, biting his bottom lip.

“well then go ahead.”

your hands were shaky as you reached down to grab the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up over your head. the moment the fabric was out of the way, his hands moved to your sides, warm and gentle, while his eyes took over your form before moving back to your face.

he pressed his lips against your forehead, breathing in your scent while you slid your shorts down your legs. boldy, you grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head quickly, dragging your hands down his chest on the way down, settling them on his abdomen. his chest heaved as his hips involuntarily moved forward towards you.

you chose to ignore the massive erection he was sporting underneath his shorts, and instead turned your back to him, unclasping your bra, dropping it to the deck next to you, your panties swiftly following it. the embarrassment hit you fast, and you quickly stepped down into the water. steve was quick to follow, his shorts and underwear discarded up on deck with yours.

the water was shallow, but you stayed low, your knees bent so that the water covered you up to just below your shoulders. steve kept his eyes locked with yours as he softly pulled you into his lap, his muscular thighs supporting you in the warm water. he wasted no time in tilting your chin up so that he could move his lips against yours. you had been waiting to kiss steve harrington since the 6th grade, imagining a million different ways that it would happen, what kissing him would feel like, what he would taste like.

every scenario you had ever dreamed up couldn’t compare to this. he was all heat and desire, his hands sliding behind your back to pull you closer, breathing in sync with you, eyes screwed shut, in an expression almost reminiscent of pain. you let your hands drift behind his neck, one in his hair, as you listened to the noises he made.

you pulled away to catch your breathe briefly, before attaching your lips to his neck. he let out a long, drawn out moan, tilting his head back so you could easily access the expanse of skin, searching for his sweet spot. when you sucked the area just below his ear, his hips snapped forward, and he exhaled a whimper tightening his grasp around your waist.

“shit, baby,” he whined out rocking his hips against yours.

you smiled against him, ghosting your lips along his collarbone while his hands roamed over your body, settling on your thighs. he slid them up and down your smooth skin, and you spread your legs wider, resting closer to his groin. he grinded harder against you, groaning each time your body rubbed along his length. “steve,” you gasped out.

“i know baby, i know,” he rasped.

he stopped his motion, moving his hand higher up your thigh to your core. your heart beat rapidly, as you leaned your forehead against his. running his fingers along your folds, your hands squeezing in his hair. “steve, please,” you whimpered.

“i got you, baby. shhhh, let me make you feel good,” he whispered into your ear.

when he finally slipped his fingers into you, your back arched, pressing against your chest to his. his other hand slipped to the small of your back stroking you comfortingly in time with the rhythms he was strumming inside of you. he watched your face, waiting for the moment when-

he connected his fingers with your clit, focuses small movements in that small area, as your legs shook in his lap. he curled his fingers to put pressure directly on the spot, and you hid your head in his neck, mewling loudly as you rocked your hips against his hand. he whispered sweet nothings to you the whole time, i love you baby, you look so pretty riding my hand beautiful, keep going baby, i’m gonna fuck you so good honey, shhh i got you.

his fingers stretched you out, but your desperation to feel him inside of you began to overwhelm you. “steve, please i need to feel you,” you moaned to him.

he pulled his fingers out, breathing heavily against you. “baby i’ve wanted you since the day we met.”

the information halted you, and you pulled back to look into his eyes. “what?”

“you were always the one i wanted.”

“but nancy-“ you tried to ask, but he didn’t seem interested in anything other than telling you how badly he wanted to fuck you.

“i needed to see if i could feel the same with anyone else, and when it didn’t work out, it terrified me. i knew you were the only one, but i didn’t think you wanted me too.”

you were left speechless. “baby i’ve wanted you so bad for so long,” he murmured, his eyes pleading.

“i’ve wanted you too. since middle school,” you whispered brushing his messy wet hair out of his face.

he leaned in to kiss you desperately, groaning into you. he pulled you up gently positioning you over his length, his eyes fixated on your expression as you settled down onto him, gasping as you lowered yourself onto his thick cock. he filled you completely, you fit together like puzzle pieces. he slowly thrusted up into you watching to make sure that it wasn’t hurting you. “fuck me, steve,” you said firmly.

his eyes darkened, the words triggering suppressed feelings and urges that he had kept hidden for years. steve snapped his hips upwards into you while you grinded down to meet his thrusts deeper. the water splashed around you with the force of his quickened pace. you cried out, practically bouncing on him, gripping onto his shoulders.

one of his hands slipped from your waist to hold your hand down on his shoulder. he grabbed one of your legs, lifting it up around his waist. the new angle stretched you further around him, and threw your head back, whimpering out nonsense. stevie, oh. i love you. you feel so good oh my god. right there. just like that, steve.

steve fucked up into you, hitting your sweet spot with every stroke, driving you closer and closer to your climax. heat pooled in your stomach, and you clenched around steve from the heat. he moaned your name, dropping his hand down to your already sensitive clit to massage it. his hands drove you over the edge, and you came onto him, steve’s orgasm following shortly after.

you sat there for a moment in his embrace, relishing each other’s closeness as he kissed you gently. “holy shit, you are so beautiful,” steve gasped running his hand over your cheek, stroking his thumb over your lip. you kissed him gently, as he held you close to him. he lifted you up out of the water, carrying you to the room he was staying in. you fell asleep with his arms wrapped around you while he kissed your back lightly.

you hadn’t planned on telling the girls about what had happened until you had talked to steve the next morning, but as you creeped out of his room back to yours, drowning in his massive t-shirt, you were shocked to find robin laying on your bed, scratching haphazard lines in her sketchbook. ”i told you he doesn’t have feelings for nancy,” she chuckled.

“i don’t even wanna know how you know,” you sighed grabbing clothes out of your bag to change into.

“okay, then i won’t tell you. but if you don’t want anyone else knowing, you should probably go pick up you and steve’s underwear from the deck.”

.

[sol-consort]

Yes the space hamster is a Boo reference lol. At some point in 3 Shepard will tell the hamster to “go for the eyes” like how Minsc tells Boo. Also I don’t know if New Game Plus severs connection to ME1 save I never did New Game Plus. Honestly I didn’t even know it existed until you started talking about doing it for ME1. I’m still so surprised that you see Jacob as not wanting a romance because from everything I heard he comes on pretty strong to FemShep to the point that it’s one of the reasons people don’t like him. I can’t say the other reason because it’s spoiler for 3. Also I wouldn’t worry about doing the DLCs early there’s not really a reason to do them late game other than personal continuity. However there’s a Citadel DLC in Mass Effect 3 that you should do right before the last mission so you’ll get the all content out of it so ignore Anderson if he ever tells you about an apartment.

Oh don't worry, I plan on doing a lot of Anderson ignoring in the future.

And Jacob? Comes on pretty strong? I'd sooner believe Miranda abandoned Cerberus. He is definitely the least enthusiastic out of all romance options, he deliberately ignores your personal questions and answers it as a soldier. You have to call him out on it every time so you'd get a personal answer.

After one conversation, this is all you get after Horizon from him until you do his loyalty. Hell, even before Horizon, too.

"Let's not push it" ?????

No what???????????

Cut the middle sentence, and you get a perfectly nice line. "we've got a good thing, Shepard. We'll talk again later."

Fuck you mean let's not push it?

Saying how he has no time for relationships, he just wants something casual. My experience with Jacob is him failing at being playfully hard to get and instead coming off as uncomfortable and awkwardly rejecting me.

Why did I even continue his romance? Curiosity.

You initiate everything, you always make the first move, you always flirt and he only compliments you with basic words at best.

This is his answer if you ask for something more serious.

But the game does push him on you a bit strongly. You can see a video of him working out without his shirt, you can hear Kasumi talk about how hot he is. The game wants you to get with Jacob and gives you all the correct signals, Jacob himself is unsure and uninterested unless you do all the work.

In the shadowbroker base, the game even states he was deliberately put on the team just for Shepard's stability. While Miranda was chosen for her skills.

He was there for you and he wasn't even aware of it.

This is his reaction after Shepard's tells him how hard it's been having their friends act like strangers and how dying for two years made them stay the same while everyone moved on

"You know what's more important? Everything."

FUCK YOU MAN, I'M TALKING ABOUT MY FEELINGS HERE YOU STONE COLD BITCH.

It would've been a nice gesture, the first person to actually ask Shepard how they felt, wasn't it for the fact he only brought it up just so he gets to avoid talking about his father. He is more scummy than he appears to be, definitely fits into Cerberus and not the honourable fallen from grace hero his plot tries to make him be.

At stage three in the offical relationship, you can ask him if he wants to vent again because yk, he is your beloved and you worry about seeing him down.

This is his reaction.

"Don't invent problems"

"Even if you were right"

"How little do you get me"

*Breaks up with you immediately *

Now you must think, what the fuck did I say to get this reaction? Insult his mother? Piss on his dad's grave? Call his dick small?

This, this is all Shepard said.

I'm losing my mind someone get me the sledgehammer.

He is like a discounted batman without any of the money or angsty charm. He is this one bundle of constipated emotions and baggage and lashes at you whenever you suggest that maybe he should trust you a bit and talk about it.

You know who doesn't do that shit? Jack. No matter what she actually appreciates you letting her vent, especially with how much she associates it with weakness and hates feelings. She realises she needs to do that to move on.

Jacob is a massive hypocrite who keeps covering his ears and screaming about how you're wrong and he isn't living in the past and he will yell at you for it.

His flirting is really lame too oh my god- it's like he is trying so hard to appear cool and chill but instead it comes of as emotionally constipated. He always deflects and when you try to talk about his father he turns it on you instead.

This is all the flirting you will ever get from him.

"I'm impressed 😎 "

"Keep it up 🤓"

"You're a soldier that's why I like you🗣🔛🔝"

His loyalty mission was so clear either, obviously that person is a bad guy, he was a monster not just a bad guy so Jacob's choice never even seemed that hard.

Meanwhile, Miranda actually did step into grey morality. She kidnapped a child. You stop for a second and realise how far the lengths are that she is willing to reach. With Jacob the choice to shoot his dad was the easiest by far it was so disappointed.

Like there wasn't even an argument if "but did his dad love him?" No the fuck he did not. If his dad at least treated him kindly and wasn't scummy then it would've been a harder choice. Jacob finally has the loving father he wanted but can he turn a blindeye on the monster he is deep down just so he gets his own happy ending?

But it wasn't like that was it? His dad was a monster inside and outside. At least with Miranda you had to consider the fact she never knew poverty and is it worth it to keep her sister with a rich parents just so she never may feel hungry? Do you stay with an abusive father to keep a roof over your head or do you risk being homeless? To add more layers to it, it wasn't even her own life she was making the decision for but her sister's! He baby sister.

They feel like they should've been mirrors of each other.

Oh and if you break up with him? This is how he reacts.

"I hope you've got a good excuse for this one"

Who the fuck

WHO THE FUCK.

WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE???

Look, either we throw him out of an airlock or I fight him, there is no middle option.

Also alien racism! The thing Ashley got burned for, yay <3

Once a Cerberus bitch always a Cerberus bitch huh.

[house-of-galathynius]

The Long Road Home

Chapter Four

Chapter Three - Chapter Five

Word Count: 3.2k 

~

The feast approached faster than she had anticipated and the house was full of movement and chatter as staff prepared food, arranged flowers and made sure that everything inside was perfect. 

Aelin found herself useless, unable to assist anyone with preparations. Arobynn was home too much for her to be able to sneak out on her own, and the weather had taken another turn for the worse so she had no choice but to stay put. She had debated going to see her parents at their own townhouse, but she had taken one step outside and the wind and snow had chilled her quickly and thoroughly. In the end she chose to remain in her room and sit by the fire reading for the two days before the feast. Although her mind was severely unfocused, as all she seemed to think about was Rowan and their conversation. 

Aelin knew that Rowan had worked it all out for himself. Whilst she had never admitted outright that there was anything going on with Arobynn, she had not denied it either. Their conversation had been strange and completely inappropriate— and despite Aelin’s slight anger that had been simmering inside her the moments after their chat, she couldn’t help but feel touched that Rowan had any concern for her at all. 

What perplexed Aelin the most was why Rowan seemed to care so much. It was the question that consumed her brain for the days following, but no answer ever came to her. At least no explanation she came up with could satisfy her enough. 

Saturday arrived much faster than she had anticipated. The wintery chill had started to seep inside the house by the time she woke that morning. So she had wrapped herself in blankets and cosied down by the fire, attempting to keep herself warm for as long as possible. It was almost too tempting to just stay there forever and avoid having to deal with the guests that would be downstairs soon enough. But Phillipa had roused her from her chair and given her a hot cup of tea to sip on while they primped and primed her until she was looking fit to be seen. 

Phillipa had eventually revealed to her a brand new dress. The silk was exquisite and the fiery red was something to behold— it was certainly a dress fit for Arobynn’s wife. The corset was tight on her chest, drawing far too much attention to her breasts. But she assumed that was exactly what Arobynn had wanted when he had picked it. Her hair had been put into a neat bun at the base of her head and a ruby hair pin placed carefully above to join the monstrous necklace that sat around her neck. 

“You look wonderful, darling.” Arobynn cooed from the doorway. 

Aelin held back her disgust and smiled politely. “Thank you.” 

He strode into the room and let his hands roam her skin as he surveyed her. “Despite your distaste for me, you have to admit we certainly make a handsome pair.” He put his hands on her shoulders, his fingers digging in as he directed them both to the mirror, where he studied her. He kissed the base of her neck and grinned, “just think of how beautiful our children will be.” He whispered in her ear.

Aelin smiled meekly. 

“Come, my sweet. We have guests waiting.” 

 ~

The whole thing was a set up. Aelin had been seated to the right of Arobynn and in a deliberate move to rile her, he had seated Rowan to the left of her. Arobynn knew exactly what he was doing, he could see that she was intrigued by the male beside her and that there was something about him that drew her in. His plan was to catch her out. He liked the game, he liked that he was tormenting her— that he could dangle this kind-hearted man in front of her and play with both of them. But she was determined not to let any of it rattle her.

No. 

She was the picture of the perfect wife. Even as Arobynn had drink after drink, even when he threw subtle insults at her again and again. But she ignored Rowan’s pitying glances and his small gestures of support. She didn’t need anyone’s pity, not from her parents nor from a man who was still nothing more than a stranger. She was a strong woman and she could deal with this awful man she had to call a husband. 

Her parents were certainly not people she cared to have sympathy from. Not when they had been the people to put her into this position in the first place. She had said as much to her father as she saw them out and he was questioning why she had not been more of a doting wife. 

“Aelin, that’s no way to speak to your father.” Her mother admonished. 

She scoffed, the wine making her feel more confident than she really was. “I would be the doting wife if papa hadn’t forced me to marry a monster.” She spat out. 

Her father expression was of surprise. “Aelin. You do not know—“ 

She cut him off. “I know that you sold your daughter to the highest bidder. That you didn’t care who it was, as long as you got something good out of it. Did you not even think to look into him?” 

Evalin held her hand to her heart, tears shining in her eyes. “Fireheart…” 

Aelin’s gaze burned into her father. Ignoring her mother completely. The the unsettling truth came over her and she sucked in a breath when she realised. “You did know. You knew everything about him and still let him marry me.” 

“Aelin, there were circumstances out of my control. I had no choice.”

“Anything to keep your empire alive I suppose.” She said bitterly. “Doesn’t matter if that means selling your daughter to a man who only see’s women as a piece of property.” 

“My empire is what pays for your things. It’s what ensured you were raised well and ate the best food and wore the finest dresses,” her father smoothed his jacket, “without Arobynn we would be nothing more than commoners. He is what has kept out family name strong.” 

So it was about the money. Aelin had suspected it had been more than just her age. That eighteen was still young, plenty of time to find someone else to marry. But of course, there was always something else. 

Aelin didn’t bother to argue further. She had the information she needed. She wished that her father was a different kind of man— that he could be the father she had so loved as a child— but things had changed and the man in front of her was a stranger. 

“Thank you for coming. I’ll make sure to write to you.” She bowed her head them both and stalked off without another word.

When the party moved to the large reception hall, drinks flowing freely, Aelin went to a corner and sipped her wine slowly as she surveyed the people beyond. She was still reeling from her argument with her parents and she was also trying to figure out why exactly Arobynn had invited Rowan— considering he was nothing like the people who were here. High ranking officials who had brought their mistresses, the seedy men who worked for Arobynn, women who had clearly been hired for one purpose only— who were hanging off of every word that her husband said. 

She recognised only a few faces around the room. None of them paid her any attention though. 

Aelin wasn’t sure she could find it in herself to care. 

The room was getting too noisy and Arobynn was too busy ogling a brunette by his side to notice Aelin slip out and go to the library. The room was dark when she entered, but she managed to light the fire and the candles that were dotted around. Aelin loved being in here. There was something about the smell of the books that filled the dark oak shelves that had always given her comfort. Her favourite spot being in one of the two large armchairs positioned in front of the roaring fire, a chessboard nestled between the pair of them. 

She placed her wine on the table and perched on the chair, warming her hands against the flames; mesmerised by the dancing and flickering of them. The chatter from the other room filtered through the walls, but she didn’t mind, not as she relaxed against the back of the chair and letting out a sigh of relief. 

“You needed to escape too?” A voice asked behind her. 

She jolted up and turned around, tensing when she beheld Rowan. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said gently. 

“What are you doing in here?” She asked. 

Rowan smiled. “They’re not really my kind of people. Honestly, I’m not sure why I was invited.” 

“I think I have an idea.” Aelin murmured. 

Rowan cocked his head to the side in question. 

“Arobynn wants to know if you’re a threat.” Aelin sat back down in her chair, Rowan coming to join her a moment later. 

“A threat.” He stated. 

Aelin nodded and sipped her wine. 

“Why would he think I’m a threat?” 

She sighed. “Because… he can see how I respond to you. He has eyes practically everywhere in this city.” Aelin watched the flames again, “he knows how many times we’ve met. He knows that there’s something about you, something that keeps bringing me back. He wants to know if you will endanger his hold over me.” 

Honestly, she didn’t know where those words had come from. Being so candid with Rowan was dangerous and she was admitting too much— too fast. 

“And do I?” 

Aelin closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She knew what he was asking, but she didn’t have an answer. 

“I know that I can’t stay away from you, Aelin. I don’t know why or what it is… but I can’t help it. It’s like the world is shouting at me to find you.” 

A shiver went through her and she finally looked to him. His face was glowing in the firelight and his features were so different to those of Arobynn’s. The harsh, evil nature of her husband was replaced with a soft and kind looking face— gentle eyes and a smile that made her weak at the knees. 

“We should not be talking about this.” Aelin whispered.

“Why not? Is it not the truth?” Rowan questioned. 

She shook her head. “He’ll kill you if he heard you say such things.”

Rowan shrugged. “He won’t hear it. Do you really think he’s going to come in here? He’s too busy looking at other women to care about where either of us has gone.” 

“You don’t know Arobynn. He might not be paying attention, but someone else is.”

“I know him better than you think.” 

Aelin took another long sip of her drink. “Surely there are other women you could give your attention to… perhaps ones who aren’t married?” 

Rowan sat back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. “There isn’t another woman I want.”

She scoffed. “You don’t know me. How do you know I’m what you want.” 

Rowan seemed to hesitate for a second and then he turned to her, his expression careful as he spoke. “I just have this… feeling. I spotted you in that market, out of the hundreds of people who were there. I saw you. I can’t get you out of my head, Aelin. When I’m near you I just know that it’s right.” 

Her chest hurt, a crushing sadness settling over her. “I’m married, Rowan.” 

He sighed. “I know. But I can’t— can we not be friends?”

“You know the answer to that. It’s inappropriate.” 

“And the way that he treats you isn’t? The string of women he brings home, the way he hurts you and hides you away to pretend it never happened? Don’t think I didn’t know. Our conversation the other day merely confirmed what I already knew.” 

“If you already knew what he was doing to me, then why bother asking?”

“I wanted to see if you would admit it. I cannot help you if you do not ask for it. I cannot protect you from him if you won’t tell me the truth.”

“I can’t get help. He is a man, his is Arobynn. He can do whatever he wants to. You know what the rules are, Rowan. You know that I can do nothing but be the perfect little wife to him until the day I die. And you know that he is powerful and will be watching me, watching us. No one can protect me, especially not you.” She angrily replied. Her heart was pounding, she could never admit to Rowan that she felt it too— the longing, the pull of him. 

“You don’t have to be anything to him.” He took her hand and Aelin flinched, pulling it back. “Aelin, you know that I’m right.” He paused, thinking. 

She felt scared. This conversation, the admissions from Rowan were dangerous and she wasn’t sure if she was willing to risk her life for it. Even though every fibre of her body was tugging at her, telling her that it was okay, that Rowan was safe, that he was right. 

Rowan continued,  “you know there is something here and I don’t know why, or what forces are at play… but I know that I don’t care. I would for some insane reason, risk it all to have a chance at getting to know you better. To show you the kind of love that Arobynn will never be able to.” 

Aelin’s heart was aching. He was talking about love and risking it all— but he didn’t know her. Yet… there was this crazy part of her too— a part of her that was sure that he was right, that there did seem to be bigger forces at play and that one way or another they were meant to be in each others lives. 

“We can’t.” She whispered. 

“Would it help if I told you some more about me?” 

Aelin met his eyes. His offer between them. 

He didn’t wait for her answer. 

“My name is Rowan Whitethorn, I am twenty-two and I was born in York. My parents passed away when I was eighteen and I sold everything we had and joined the army.” He paused, and Aelin barely nodded, letting him continue. “I spent a year in France before returning to London where I have been ever since. I love reading and hunting and I think I could be falling in love.” 

She blushed and looked down. 

“Your turn.”

Aelin cleared her throat gently and then looked at him once again. “My name is— was— Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. I am eighteen and before here I lived in Hampshire with my parents. I also love reading and walking in the hills.” And maybe I’m falling in love too. 

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” He laughed. 

She shook her head, but a smile was building until she was almost grinning at him. “I was never scared about sharing information about myself. I’m just scared that Arobynn will do something to you and it will be my fault.” 

Rowan didn’t seem to be fazed and took her hand again. The joining of their hands sending waves of heat through Aelin. She was surprised at the way he was so careful with her, the ease of which he held her hand in his, like she was the most precious thing in the world. 

“He won’t find out, Aelin. I promise.”

She wasn’t convinced. But for the sake of the happiness she was feeling she chose to ignore her doubts. Instead, she spent the next hour talking about everything and nothing with him. Their hands joined across the space between the chairs, his thumb stroking across her skin. She could almost pretend this was her life— that Rowan was her husband and they were enjoying an evening together, just like they did all the time. 

She knew this was wrong, she knew that this was dangerous and if anyone— not just Arobynn— found out, she would be in more trouble than she could know. The penalty for adultery was death; and yet… that price didn’t seem to scare her as much as it ought to anymore.

What scared her the most was how quickly she had gone from being terrified even considering his offer, to happily sitting in the home that Arobynn was in, holding hands and talking with Rowan as if they were the only two people in the entire world.

“Aelin?” A voice from the corridor shouted. 

She jumped from the chair, yanking her hand from Rowan quickly before she ran to the door and slipped out. She didn’t say a word to Rowan as she left, never looking back at him once. 

She glanced down the hallway and found Phillipa peering into each room. Aelin smoothed down her dress and pretended to have just come out of the living room, keeping her breathing steady even as she was slightly panicking. 

“Phillipa, I’m here.” She said, her voice shaking only slightly. 

“Oh there you are! Master Hamel has been looking for you. He says he has a surprise for you upstairs.” 

Aelin swallowed and then nodded, following Phillipa up the stairs. Aelin briefly looked behind her to see Rowan leaning against the wall outside the library, his expression stormy as he watched her walk away.

Phillipa led them down the darkened corridor until they both halted outside Arobynn’s bedroom. Aelin turned to Phillipa who wouldn’t meet her eyes, merely bowing slightly and then scurrying off down the hall. 

Aelin took a deep breath and knocked on the door, her hand shaking as she did. 

“Come in.” 

She halted as soon as she stepped inside— unsure of what she was seeing. Arobynn had a bottle of wine in one hand and flowers in the other, a smile on his face as he revelled in Aelin’s shock. 

“Come now, Aelin. Can your husband not surprise you with flowers and wine?” He asked smugly. 

Aelin didn’t move from her spot. 

“Darling, I know I’ve been hard on you. But to be my wife you have to understand how to behave and act. I realise though, I may have been too hard on you, and I do want you to be happy here, so come.” He gestured to the bed and she had no choice but to slowly move towards it and sit as he poured her a glass of the wine and sat beside her, clinking their glasses together. 

“Here’s to many happy years together.” 

Arobynn lifted his glass to hers and watched Aelin intently as she took a sip of the dark liquid. It burned as it went down her throat and she winced at the bitter taste of it. Arobynn’s smile on his face widened as he saw her discomfort. 

Aelin steadied her body, placing a hand on the bed as she felt her head start to spin. She met Arobynn’s eyes, words failing her and pleaded with him to help. Her body was feeling heavier and heavier, her skin tingling and her heart racing. She could barely see straight as the room began to spin— in the midst of it all, the door opening and another male entered— Aelin was unable to identify who it was. Not before the glass in her hand clattered to the floor and everything went black. 

~

Tag List: 

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[kaedeakeshisworld]

A breath of fresh air

gist: An unexpected meeting at the bakery with who knows? Leo finally decided to appear in Y/n's life after this time. Exciting news for future plans a a change of perspective.

Finally, Benimaru is here. Treating reader-chan like she deserves to. Leo and Y/n have to settle some matters but no worries, it'll work out.

c/s:Here it is. Who also loves a bread loaf/ hot bread fresh out the oven? I do ☺️. Also, there's a saying in Portuguese when you refer to hot men. You say he's/you're a bread( I think it's only valid for men though- in Portuguese "tu es um pão!" it means you're hot. now you know.) Don't know if it's still something folks use as of now... I feel like next chapter will probably end on some smut( already writing it 😉)

wc:3565

I've had easier days! Waking up at the crack of dawn to stare at my ceiling got me questioning my priorities. It's been three fucking weeks! What does he even have like excuse. She impersonates him to the best of her ability ‘Sorry, I was busy with work’ headass.

Soon enough, I start crying. I know why. I was acting like a was strong, wouldn’t shed a tear for him or because of him.

I've successfully managed to avoid it these past two weeks but everything can't be going according to plan now, can it?

I try my best to cry in silence. I don't need a single soul to know why I'm in this state. 

I think a hot bath would make me feel better. I also will undo my locks. Time for a needed wash and go.

Nothing can beat a good self care routine! I feel like relaxing this way would really help me sleep. So, I'll start it tomorrow…

The hot bath really helped me. I feel like I can conquer the world. I haven’t even had breakfast! Hum… well… what am I in the mood for? Nothing can beat a hot bread straight out the oven. I’ll settle for that.

As soon as I get out of the bath, I pat dry my body. Apply lotion to it because being ashy ain’t a lifestyle for me.  As for a bra… I’m not putting it on today. It’s always the first thing I get rid of whenever I’m back home.

I put on an oversized hoodie, some cutesy socks, and my platform vans 'cause I wasn't blessed with height. I grab my wallet as well as a camo bucket hat. 

Off I am and let's not forget keys, too. 

I drop by the bakery for a fresh loaf of bread. 

I have missed doing regular stuff. Such simple things bring me happiness the most yet I don’t do them.

The stroll is ten minutes but worth it for the tasty goods they sell. 

This morning, not a lot of people crowd the shop.I secured the goods, yes two loaves, one is never enough. I headed towards the exit and bumped someone. 

My first reaction is to ask if he or she is okay, I wasn't paying attention.

When I offered help, I was met with a voice I heard before( or at least think I did):

“What a wonderful sight! And here I thought I wouldn't see you this soon?”

He greets me

“Hi! How are you?”

“Much better now that I see you Y/n.”

“Wanna chat for a bit?”

“Absolutely. I’ll order us something in the meantime. Have a seat. I’ll join you as soon as I’m done.”

He comes back to the table with a tray. The food looks delicious

“We have some strawberry mochi.” He chuckles upon my surprised reaction.

My fave. How does he know? Ah… now I get it! What else did he overheard at uni? 

“I got a caramel chai latte for you.”

“I have an espresso and a silk pudding.”

“You look really hot!” She says. 

“Thank you. You do too.”

“Are you trying to flirt?”

“Perhaps…”

He sips his coffee before continuing this conversation:

“I know this is out of the blue but I wanted to invite you for a trip.”

“A trip? I’m interested!”

“You just have to say yes.”

“Destination is?”

“Paris.”

“I’m going. Who else is going to be there

“Just you and me

“So you wanted to have me all for yourself. You're naughty, so naughty.”

“No not really the way you intend it. 

I have business there. I thought it would be a great idea for me to share it with you.”

He’s a business man. The fit matches his job if you get what I’m saying. His hair is slicked all the way to the back. He looks like a total different person.   

“When do we have to leave?”

“We take off Monday, everything is offered by me. I’ll pick you up.��

“I’ll do that. Should I give you my number?” 

“Yes, it’ll make things easier.”

“Do you need my info to book the flight?”

“Send me everything. I’ll take care of it.”

Both of you exchange phone numbers.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

He smiles, it’s the first time I've seen him do that.

“I gotta leave. I already paid for our meal. Take care, my love.” 

He kissed my forehead and he left 

Why do my eyes falter me like this out of all places, I have to look at his crotch!! Jeez, I’m a case. 

That’s it! Universe, send some bomb ass dick my way. Since I can’t really get it myself, might as well get some help.

It took me by surprise. A lot of affection just from that. 

I am his love. His love. Bold as shit if you ask me. You can only call me like that after you’ve made me come.

  - - -

This sunday morning at 10 am sharp, someone knocked at my door. Not the best time to come by. I'm butt naked and need to get dressed asap. I grabbed a random sundress and put it on as I got close to the door. I take a look in the mirror in the entry to check if I have any semblance of looking okay. I put myself behind the door and asked:

“Who is it?”

The person behind it answered “it’s me”

I know it’s him. I check through the peephole to verify if it’s really him but I’m rarely mistaken. 

Already! Take your sweet ass time Leo. Come next week, how about that one? Isn’t it too early like wait a month cause you visibly waited three weeks to show up…

I open the door. I’m not surprised by seeing him

I give him that disapproving look all the while checking his fit out

Here she is standing in all her glory. With a purple sundress. She no longer has her dreadlocks. She is probably on a wash and go because I know this smell. Oh, there is something else in the air… cinnamon perhaps?

“Not you showing up!”

“Not you giving me attitude, specifically this one.”

“I don’t want to see or talk to you.”

“That’s how you face reality when problems arise or you encounter difficulties? I thought my queen was smarter than this.”

“I’m not your queen.”

“Bet!”

“Bet?!”

“May I come in?”

“Why would I allow you inside in the first place?”

“You’re right. Uhm let’s go somewhere then. I shouldn’t be invading your privacy?”

“It’s fine. Come in?”

You let him enter your place the living room is at the end of the hallway

He sits down on your couch. 

You decide to position yourself on the opposite side, grab a pillow and let him do the talking because he has to apologise. He better.

He tried to make small talk such as tell how nice the weather has been of lately but he quickly realised that you simply do not care

“Why did you absquatulate two weeks ago? Have you been out this past week? You look like you haven't been properly eating, are you sure you're taking care of yourself?”

“Why are you interrogating me, Leo? Am I a witness and you’re the officer?”

I wouldn’t mind that if you catch my drift, queen.  

“All of a sudden, you seem to care. Three weeks, don't you know how to count?  Were you having fun with Miss Aura? Maybe playing with your 'son' like you should? Getting busy with another bitch 'cause let's face it, you can pull them.

As a matter of fact, I can't grasp the reason why you're here. To end what we had started. 

Well if it's the case, I must inform you that it ended three weeks ago in that car ride.”

“I’m here for you. I would like to know what I can do. Why are you being so cold? You didn't even hug me at the door.”

“Hugh, are you being serious? You've got to be fucking kidding me. You're getting this treatment because I still do not know who Miss Aura,” she punctuates her name “is. And let’s not forget you flatly refused to reveal her identity. In your own words, ‘this ain’t none of your business’ type shit.”

“I had to give you time to reflect upon the way I treated you.

Okay now we're talking. Doesn't mean I'll forgive you though.

That's what you get for being stubborn.

“Okay. You really don’t want to let go of this topic! Well, Aura is my sister.”

“See! Was it hard to tell me?”

“No, I wanted to toy with your feelings. It amused me to see you being this possessive and you wanted to know who she was. 

Would you like to meet her? I know it's a bit hasty but if you want to, I can do that.” 

“You do realise you're toxic, don't you? Not yet. I have to unpack what you did to me.”

And you hit his shoulder playfully.

“I know. It's because for the previous relationships I had, women wouldn't even accept her in their lives. I had to make sure. Don't worry, you aced it. Did much better than them.” 

“Also, since we’re on that topic my son as you had said it on the phone is not your son.”  

“No, it's her son. Unfortunately, her husband passed away when her son was a baby so I have been to a certain extent there for him. He does know that I am his uncle despite the fact I've always called him son.”

Oof the relief, the massive weight lifted off your shoulders is gone. Now that it is cleared out of the way. I also feel really bad now that I know the whole story.

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Nothing important for the time being.”

“Did he just die just like that?”

“No, Actually it was because of an incurable disease. He was on treatment but it seemed like it harmed him in more ways than it helped him.”

“My condolences for this tragic outcome.”

“It's okay.”

Both of you sit in awkward silence for a good five minutes. You're doing everything to avoid his gaze. 

If I look at him now it's game over for me. Like I was being an idiot but still.

Your salvation is the timer going off

“Oh, my pie! Had almost forgotten it!” 

“You made a pie?”

“Yes homemade, it's my grandmother’s recipe. We’ll eat some later with ice cream that sounds about right.”

“Absolutely.”

Maybe we should get some boba tea in the meantime.

Yes! I would love that.

When you're ready to leave, let me know.

Why?

I think you should cover yourself…

Is it cold outside?

A little windy.

She hops in her dressing room for some mules and a cropped denim jacket.

“I'm done.”

“Okay. Let's go!”

Gotta be focused. Don't break character now. One day we'll be together but the timing isn't right.

As soon as we get off of the elevator, he tells me we're going by car.

“You have a new driver?”

“Yes, I do. I'm the one driving today.”

“Oh…”

A sports car? That's too flashy! Once a gentleman, always a gentleman.

“Order anything you desire. As soon as you have everything, we'll sit outside.”

“What about you?”

“Don't worry about me.”

Uh!

“One matcha tea for me and passionfruit for him. I would also like to have a dozen donuts.”

“Which flavours?”

“Give us the best ones, please.”

Leo pays for everything and you head outside to the eating area.

“Let's drink here.”

You sip on your drink for a bit. He's the one starting the conversation: 

“How's work?”

“I'm really busy. There are good days and stressful ones. Once the weekend hits, I feel relieved.”

“What about you?”

“Nothing special, routine stuff you know.”

“Are you going on vacation?”

“Not yet. I'll do it later in August. A lil' after my birthday.”

“Your birthday is…” 

“August 10th.”

She mutters “Fuck! She was right!”

“You said something

“I forgot to ask you that, how silly of me?”

“No at all, it happens.”

I take a glazed donut out of the box and start digging

“Are you?”

“Yes, l'll go with a friend of mine.”

“Sounds fun,” he shrugs back.

“Where?”

“Europe, more precisely Paris.”

“Who organised it?”

“He did.”

He!? I thought it was she as in another girl. Why am I getting worked over it?

“I'm just accompanying him there. He probably has some business to attend.”

“Have fun there. I'm sure Paris and he will treat you right.”

You stayed there for two hours just discussing some trivial matters…

At my place

“They're two flavours in a pot ones. I have belgian chocolate and regular vanilla, salted caramel and brownie. Or, you'd rather have regular ones like vanilla, chocolate or strawberry?”

“I find you're awfully stocked on them.”

“It's normal. Period me needs it!”

“Oh, I see. I'll get the first option and please forget my comment. There is absolutely nothing wrong about having an ice cream reserve at home.”

“Why are you giving me a pot, I thought we'd share?” 

“I don't do that with ice cream.”

“Noted.”

“How is it?”

“It’s really good. I think I can cook and I’ll leave the dessert up to you.”

“I’ll gladly handle it.” 

“You used granny smith apples, right?”

“Yes, they’re my fave.”

“Oh! What a coincidence, me too.”

This conversation is going all too well for someone who was mad up until today. It’s giving bipolar much if I may say so. Well, that’s kind of how I love so, no surprise there.

“About our relationship, I think we should have a break from each other.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“No further questions.”

“You have your reasons for it. I'll simply respect them and distance myself from you.”

His phone rings 

“I really have to answer this call, sorry.”

“Uhm, sure.”

While he talked on the phone, I went about my day. I'm not going to sit and watch him do his thing. My cold exterior may remain but I'll be giddy. I don't like it when I'm like that.

I put the dishes in the dishwasher. Clean the kitchen counter and head to my living room. Have a look around. Check if something needs to be arranged. I pick my computer, my headphones and listen to a city pop playlist whilst typing the piled up emails from this week. I should really stop this shit. It doesn't do me any good. Meh…words don't mean shit without action, do they?

The phone call 

“Good morning Mister Burns ! I hope you're doing well. Am I disturbing you in the middle of anything?”

“No,” he looks at her "not at all. Please go ahead."

"I inform you that next month there is a charity gala you must attend."

"You're talking about that one gala?"

“Absolutely!”

“Can I skip it? I really don't want to be there…”

“Sir? How could you not go there? You need to know that you just have to stay until you meet the people who organised the event. That's it.”

“Still Rie, I don't like them. Can't I send one of my collaborators instead of me?”

“I'm going to sound extremely rude but as far as I'm concerned, none of your collaborators bear your name. You get it now, Mister Burns.”

“Okay Rie. I promise you I'll be there.”

“Thank you, Mister Burns! I know it'll work wonders for this business's future. On that note, I wish you a wonderful day.”

“Thank you, see you later.”

He ends his call and demands my attention. I take off my headphones and give him a yes.

“It was from work, my secretary Rie kind of scolded me.”

“It must have been urgent, I guess…”

“I could say that about the matter.”

I talked with her about next month's event, a charity gala for the prosperity of ingenious people.

“Is that something you created?”

“Not really, the company supports it in some way. I tried my best to dissuade her from telling me to go because I am not fond of those events, honestly. It's too long, formal and it messes up my sleep schedule. I'm not that young anymore, I love my routines.”

“I read that somewhere. It said something like 'old people are so into routines: it is really hard to make them change certain habits' sounds true now that I have a living proof before my eyes.”

So now this is what we're doing. Calling me old? Nevermind, we're casually talking. It’s not meant to hurt me, she’s just stating what’s evident.

“After my secretary Rie convinced me in a rather unusual way. She's scary when she wants me to do something for the good of the company.”

“Bless her soul. She knows how to remind you of important tasks. Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Make yourself feel at home. Now, if you excuse me.”

She puts her headphones back and starts typing away.

I thought it would be a good idea to invite Y/n, we could start anew. I might be wrong.

Leo left shortly after that phonecall. I think he might have felt out of place and didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Time for me to spill the tea with besties through a videocall meeting.

Marjorie: Brrrr!

Theresa Hey, what up?

Bianca: Howdy?

y/n: I hope y’all doing well I got news

Marjorie: I’m all ears!

Theresa: Got my crunch going!

Bianca: Sippin’ my mimosa!

Y/n: I’m going to Paris! 

Theresa: Jealous! 

Bianca: Switch places with me!

Marjorie: I’ll be a luggage.

Bianca: With who though? Leo, right?

Marjorie: I mean… who else could it be? 

Bianca: Same.

Y/n: No, it’s not him.

Marjorie: What? widened eyes

Theresa: Flabbergasted!? hands over chest

Bianca: Confused  Flick of the wrist bc she thought you’d go with him

Marjorie: Is a bitch fucking your man?

Y/n: No, she isn’t. Rest assured.

Marjorie: You scared me! You know, I’m ready to side you no matter what.

Theresa: So, who's the lucky one?

Bianca: Yep, let us know girl…

Marjorie: You found another one that matched him?

Y/n: No! Not at all, an old acquaintance Benimaru.

Theresa: Pfft… he don’t waste time.

Bianca: With who? 

Marjorie: Never heard of him…

Y/n: We used to be in the same uni.

Bianca: Through my understanding, is he a rival?

Y/n: No, why?

Marjorie: You’re still with your sugar daddy? 

Y/n: No, we’re on a break to figure things out.

Bianca: You dropped him like that!

Marjorie: The streets are scarce, you might not get him back.

Theresa: You menacing y/n?

Marjorie: No, I'm letting her know he's the real deal.

Bianca: I second that.

Theresa: Let y/n explain herself.

Y/n: I know but I deserve to have fun to. Benimaru is a gentleman as well.

Marjorie: I need a report from your time spent in Paris in fine detail, 

pics too, hydrate us much with it.

Bianca: If anything ✨spicy👀 happens, let us know.

Y/n: I will, don’t worry.

Theresa: Have fun and enjoy yourself you should forget Leo a bit for your wellbeing.

Marjorie: Yeah, Theresa got a point. Contact us if anything arises.

Bianca: Without a doubt

Marjorie: Gotta go! My bed calling me.

Theresa: I have to do laundry!

Bianca: Wash day!! 

Y/n: Deuces.

Marjorie and theresa: Bye!

Bianca: See ya.

I should get to packing fast. Like I'm leaving tomorrow.

Maybe should check the weather and bring clothes according to that.

Not a lot of shoes, a solid sneaker pair if not two and two heels as well as sandals.

Shorts, skirts, pants, blouses, t-shirts, pull-overs. We’ll head to the airport in nice silk pyjamas and a hoodie.

And pack my skincare too, in tiny containers.

As I put my luggage by the door, Benimaru sends me a message.

Silly me forgot to ask you where u live.

Send me ur address, I'll pick u up. 

I send it.

Monday at 9 sharp as I'm my way to the entrance, I watch him. Gosh, he looks good! Might bite later… 

“Punctual. Nice!” 

As soon as he sees me, he gets my things for me. 

“Haven't forgotten anything?”

“No, I don't think so.”

“That's great. We'll go to the airport right away.”

“Okay.”

In the car we discuss a little. He's changed a lot he has this charisma that I can't decipher yet. He doesn't deadpan people that much as of now.

“Late music discoveries…”

“Do you have any?” 

“I do.”

“Tell me.”

“I will. I would like to know yours first.”

“Malice mizer, a little conflicted because I didn't discover them earlier but I really love the song au revoir.”

“I'll give them a go.”

“Ready?”

“Yes!”

“Mine is Tricot specifically itazura and potage.”

“I love them too! I gotta say you're a little late,” you snicker.

“Y/n! Here, I thought you'd be nice. Turns out I was wrong.”

“Not really, Tricot is like studying for uni midterms background music.”

“You studied like that?”

“Yep.”

“I did lo-fi!”

“That works too!”

“We're almost getting there.”

“You're right.”

“We'll eat shop a bit and hop on the flight.”

Chapter 4 of After all, it's not a bad idea to get a sugar daddy 

Any kind of interaction is widely welcome!!

2022-2024 all rights reserved to @kaedeakeshisworld.

Translations/ modifications/replicas/property of my work are strictly prohibited. Do not repost/ recommend/ share it elsewhere!

[the-stray-storyteller]

Havenpoint

Warnings: Language First chap Next Chap ______________________________________________________________

Chapter 2 : Benediction Anne Gray

Valentina talked as much as Rayners did, only Brookes was ten times more annoying. Aidene had a sense of humour in her stories; she talked about mess-ups and adventures, she would add a little of her inner monologue. Even if she tended to wander off to the vaguest topic she was interesting. Valentina’s stories were complaints to my ears.

She wailed about how she was getting mud onto her white sneakers as we walked down to the cafeteria.

“They’re shoes, what did you expect?” Penelope muttered under her breath coaxing a stifled laugh out of me. 

“They were very expensive. My parents will kill me for this.” The girl whined, scraping her shoe against a rock trying her best to get the mud off. Her shoes were only the beginning. She scolded her parents for delaying her arrival. Then she talked about how she couldn’t bring all her art supplies with her. That got my interest. I tried to start a conversation, excited that I had found a person who shared my interest. She sidestepped all my questions, only promising me to show her work after dinner. After that, she proceeded to tell us about her boyfriend.

I turned my head up in frustration, staring up at the billions of stars wishing on them for a moment of peace. The night was cool and getting colder with every second. I pulled my blazer closer. Laughter and shouts echoed from the cafeteria, which was a whole other building by itself. The air inside was stuffy and hot. Students started cutting the line trying to get to the food first so they wouldn’t be left with the scraps. Penelope had long ago split away from our group joining what I assumed were her old friends. Valentina had rushed off batting her eyelashes at some boy. A startled gasp escaped my lips when an arm wrapped itself around my shoulders.

“My darlin’ Anne!” Rayners greeted me with the widest smile I had ever seen in my life, “ I have found an exquisite place to have dinner and I got someone to save the place just for us.” She didn’t wait for my consent. She grabbed me by the collar of my blazer, dragging me across to the dinner queue like a rucksack.

I piled up as much pasta as I could onto my plate, avoiding the salad. I looked over to Aidene who had barely five spoonfuls of pasta on her plate. I raised my eyebrow watching her split a veg nugget in half, taking only half of it and leaving the other half to other students. She dragged me off to an isolated table near the platform which held the teacher’s table, shooing away a boy sitting there.

“Are you trying to starve yourself to death or are you on a very serious diet?”

“Neither,” she answered, picking off pasta pieces from my plate.

“Food stolen from friends tastes much better. That and I never had much of an appetite.” 

I shifted my plate away from her reach before she could take more of my dinner. Aiden muttered something under her breath. I turned my head trying to catch what she had said. Instead of getting words I got her hand slamming my mouth close.

“Shush! There is a corpse walking in front of us.” I sent her a glare which was ignored by her just like everything else. I was about to scream at her and walk away but she grabbed my face and turned it, straining my neck.

My eyes landed on the teacher’s table which was placed on a platform, an old man had stepped to the front. Any rage boiling inside me died down.

Rayners' was fairly accurate with her description. A decrepit old man stood on a podium. A sharp three-piece suit and a walking cane gilded with copper in one hand. His skin was tinted grey and he looked like he would turn to ash if someone sneezed too hard. He tapped the mic gaining everyone’s attention. The silence it gained was shattering.

“A warm welcome to Havenpoint Academy to all the new arrivals and a welcome back to those who have returned for another year.” His welcome sounded anything but warm. His eyes looked decayed from my point of view. His voice was barely a whisper but it flowed through the hall carrying the power of a cold sea current. From the corner of my eye, I saw the students next to my table mouth the speech with exaggerated expressions. He must give this speech every year.

“For decades this prestigious centre of learning has stood in Ravenwood, welcoming the youth with open arms. I have been an employee at this school for slightly over thirty years and have watched children grow up and leave. None of them to this day have managed to have reached my expectations. I have watched a handful of brilliant students throw away their potential with disdain. I will expect the same results from all of you. However, I will preserve a bit of useless hope.” His voice had dropped in temperature along with the dining hall as he scanned the swarm of the energetic young  and future disappointments.

I wondered how this man had been working in this school for three decades, he probably didn’t get any other job. 

“Mr. Harris, Mr. Kyle and Miss Rivers I will be expecting to see you three in my office after dinner. I would like to discuss the repercussions for your juvenile and shameless behaviour.” He glared down at the table next to ours, the three students looked down at their plates not daring to make eye contact. 

Aidene leaned towards me, her lips next to my ear as she whispered. I flinched at the close distance.

“How does a man who hates children become the headmaster of a literal school? He gives me Trunchbull vibes. Imagine him dressing like her.” She snickered into my ear and I too cracked a smile at the cursed image that appeared in my head. The entertainment Aidene brought with her allowed me to ignore her annoying qualities.

“Miss Rayners,” his leaden eyes landed on her, making her freeze, “The word ‘hate’ is too strong. I am merely disappointed by them. Make note of that.” Aidene stood up on her chair making me back away from her. She brought her hand up in a salute.

“YES SIR!” She yelled it loud enough for the whole school to hear. Muffled snickers emitted from tables. I buried my face in my hands determined to be ignored. I reached out and tugged at her hand hoping she would get the message and sit down. Instead she gripped my hand tight.

For a split second, the headmaster’s expression shifted into something I did not recognize. His lips twitched and his eyes gleamed. I was suddenly glad that I was holding Aidene's hand, an odd comfort that it was.

“Miss Rayners, I would request you to step off the furniture unless you want to end up in detention before the school year even starts.” With that, he stepped off the podium and Aidene sat back down on the chair. She let my hand go with a scoff directed towards the headmaster.

Aidene started shoving what was left of her food and the bowl full of chocolate pudding into her mouth. The combination of pasta and chocolate could not have been appetising. She swallowed the food down and looked at me, brown eyes wide.

“How do you think he knew my name? Also, he never told us his name, at least I don’t remember him saying…” A loud crack silenced her. The tip of a copper gilded cane had struck against the table right beside Aidene, leaving the porcelain plates shaking. The noise had left Aidene silent and both of our backs straight and taut. Her body went unnaturally still. The principal stood behind her chair. My mouth dropped open, the man had appeared out of nowhere. 

I looked around desperately hoping for a miracle and help but everyone around us continued like nothing was happening. Something disgusting seemed to crawl over my skin.

“I know your names because I go through the applications before the students arrive,” he placed a hand on the top of her chair, tapping on it with his bony white fingers with translucent skin, “and I believe it’s bedtime for you.” His voice carried silent threats. He slid his cane off the table.

“And remember neither this school nor place will give you a benediction. It is not a blessing.” he hissed out the strange sentences. It was a warning, an odd one at an odd time. Age must be making him mad. 

A cold feeling poured through me. My mother had sent me here hoping this place would be a blessing to me. My eyes darted to the principal who was still staring at us condescendingly. He clearly had another opinion.

I looked at Aidene. Despite her pale face Aidene turned her head and gave the principal one of her trademark smiles. She got up and started to walk away, I followed not wanting to be left alone under the headmaster’s eyes. 

****

We both ended up sitting on the lawn outside the cafeteria, in the frigid cold. The cold which left me shivering but seemed to not affect Aidene.

“He sounded like a creep don’t you think? Which headmaster has the time through every single application?” She complained lying down on the grass with her hands folded below her head. I shifted uncomfortably feeling the damp grass soak my pants and prick me.

“Maybe he is very jobless or just paranoid. But yes, still very creepy.” I didn’t like the way my spine crawled when he was around. I despised how I felt like there were worms under my skin struggling to break out when he was near. 

The students started to file out of the cafeteria. A girl started heading towards us, I thought it was Valentina because of her short height but her auburn hair glinted silver in the moonlight. She was much shorter than Valentina. A shy smile on her face. The girl looked like a flower petal, fragile. How would she make it through the year with someone like Aidene as her roommate?

“Aidene!” She called out and the Rayners waved enthusiastically at her. We stood up to greet her.

“Anne, this is Natalie, my roommate. Natalie, this is Anne.” We exchanged awkward greetings after Aidene introduced us.

“Curfew is at nine, we need to go,” she motioned to Aidene to follow her. Aidene wrapped her hands around me in an uncomfortably tight hug which I did not return.

“See ya tomorrow.” She winked and walked off alongside Natalie who struggled to keep up with Aidene’s longer strides. I looked up to the haunting watchful stars, scoffing at my situation before walking back to my dorm.

[sakurafairymage]

Chapter 3: Forgotten connection.

Akagami no Shirayukihime fic.

Obi x Oc Ayla

Warning: slight blood.

Once the door was closed Shirayuki grabbed Ayla's hand and dragged her to the bed. They both sat down looking like excited school girls at a sleepover.

“Now that we're alone. Spill,” Shirayuki commanded.

"I will I will, but first I got a present for you…” Ayla stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out the bracelet.

“Oh, how pretty! Thank you,” Said Shirayuki as she put it on her wrist. It was a little big, not big enough to fall off, just to move up and down her wrist freely when she moved. Ayla smiled, twirling the end of her braid in embarrassment. Finally she decided that it was about time to tell Shirayuki about when she met Obi.

“Shirayuki, you wanted to hear about when I met Obi, didn't you?” She prompted the conversation back to that topic.

Shirayuki nodded and got comfortable.

“So four years ago, remember how I told that on the way back from a job I found someone hurt,” She paused and Shirayuki nodded. “Well that was him.”

~~~

Four years ago.

Ayla just finished a delivery job and was walking through a forest. She was headed to a little cottage that she found shortly after she started staying with Shirayuki, It was in a sorry state when she found it and she had spent months restoring it. Thinking back to how it looked the last time she stopped by, it has improved a lot; the windows that were broken are now replaced and the roof doesn't leak anymore. I still have some things that need fixing like-

Ugh.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the faint sound of a groan. She froze, listening intently for another sound. The birds whistling, the wind in the trees, where? Where did it come from?

Uhh.

There!

She ran towards a clump of trees. As she got closer the figure of a man came into view, he was sitting crumpled against a tree, his clothes stained with blood coming from a gash in his chest. He was barely conscious but when she approached the glare he gave her made her stop in her tracks. She put her hands up in a friendly manner.

“I won’t hurt you,” She said, approaching him slowly. He lashed out weakly and there was a flash of metal just before she caught his wrist.

“Woah! Careful.” She said as she grabbed the knife that was clutched in his hand. Too weak to resist he gave up the knife before slumping to the ground unconscious.

Obi could hear sounds drifting in and out of his consciousness and something cool was placed on his forehead. His first instinct was to lash out, to protect himself, but he couldn't move. He tried to open his eyes but his eyelids were like lead.

“Shhh, shh…. It's alright it's alright,” said a soothing voice before everything got far away and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

He's asleep again. That's good. She thought changing the cool cloth on his forehead. It's been two days since she found him and his fever hasn't gone down at all. She pulled back the cover to check the bandages wrapped around his chest. Shirayuki had taught her basic first aid and it's a good thing too because if she hadn't found him, he would have been in worse shape than he was now, possibly dead. She pulled the blanket back up and sat back in her chair in thought. Even delirious he was guarded, the first day whenever he was awake she asked him question after question but all she learned was that his name is Obi and he got injured doing some sort of job. She rubbed her temples, she hadn't slept for the past three days and was starting to get a headache.

“Only for a few minutes.” she muttered, closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

It's so hot… My throat is so dry..

Obi opened his eyes, his vision was blurred and shifting like the room was alive around him. He tried to focus and the room stopped shifting. Good. That's when he noticed the person sitting next to him. On instinct his hand flew to his waist where he kept one of his daggers but all he felt was cloth. He could feel himself panicking but he fought the panic back and tried to focus again. The person hadn't moved an inch the whole time. Are they asleep? He tried to get up but his body wouldn't work right and he ended up falling to the floor with a soft thud. With that movement the room around him swirled again and faded to pinpoints in his vision. He grabbed the bed frame, hoisting himself up he staggered forward, he saw a counter in front of him and when he reached it he leaned against it trying to get his breath again.

“..ait you shouldn't…Obi,” He heard someone's voice behind him through the ringing in his ears. There was a knife next to his hand, grabbing it he slash out behind him blindly. He felt it connect and then heard a scream before the knife was knocked out of his hands. His legs gave out and he felt someone catch him, wrapping their arms under his arms to keep him steady. He was pulled to the bed and set down gently. The woman made a pained sound, red blood was dripping down her right arm and he saw the long gash where his knife had caught her. He reached out and gently brushed the arm he had cut. I shouldn't have done that.

“It's okay. It's not bad,” She said almost as if she had read his mind. She pulled a roll of bandages from a bag by the head of the bed and started to wrap her arm up. His eyelids felt heavy so he closed them, listening instead. He listened to her slightly uneven breathing, after a minute or so it evened out. He felt a feather light touch on his forehead.

“You're not well enough to get up yet,” Something cool was placed on his forehead. “I understand the instinct to leave and protect yourself, but know that if I had wanted to hurt you, I already would have,” another cool patch was laid on his wrist, another one on the other wrist a second later.

“Go to sleep, you need rest,” She said gently, then started singing, "Laa la la~ na na~ na na~ laa laa~da na na na~laaa la laa~"

He fell asleep.

When she noticed him fall asleep she let her voice drift off. Her arm ached, red stained the bandage that she messily wrapped around it. Should take care of that later. She thought absently while she pulled back the blanket to check his bandages.

“Well, you didn't open it back up.” She said more to herself than to Obi. She looked at the knife on the kitchen floor, her lips turned down into a frown. I've got to be more careful. She thought as she picked up the knife and tossed it into the sink.

She got him to eat some soup, one spoonful at a time till the bowl was half empty and he fell into a deep sleep. It's been five days now. His fever seems to be going down which she had noticed with relief. She glanced at her near empty cabinets, this cabin is her hideout; a pit stop to wherever she was headed, she only stored up enough food to last a week or so for one and she was feeding two.

“I need to get more supplies….” She mumbled to herself. But, she looked back to Obi sleeping, but that would mean she would have to leave him alone. He wasn't in any danger from the fever anymore and she knew he would be safe here if she left him for a few hours. So with that thought she grabbed some money from her stash hidden in a can in her cabinet. On the way out the door she grabbed a tall basket with two straps attached to carry it on her back, with one last glance back she closed the door.

Obi woke up with a start. Sitting up quickly made his head spin, but it wasn't as bad as before and it stopped within a minute. He searched the room for the woman; the kitchen, out the windows, she was nowhere in sight. Where did she go? He wondered. Looking around at his surroundings he noticed his jacket, shirt, and knives were piled neatly on a chest at the foot of the bed. There was a cup of water with a note propped up against it on the nightstand. Written on the note in looping handwriting was ‘Went to town to get supplies. I'll be back soon’. So now he knew where she went. He touched the glass of water, it was still cool so she had only been gone for a short while. He drank quickly and put on his clothes which he noticed were cleaned and mended. She's a good person. He hesitated to just leave after she had been so kind to him. He went to the small desk, put the note in his jacket pocket, and opening the drawer he found a pen and some paper.

~~~

Present time.

"When I got back he was gone and there was a note on the nightstand that said 'Thank you'," Ayla told the last bit of her story.

"So that's how you two meet, and Obi doesn't remember because of the fever,"

"Yeah,"

"Can I ask you something Ayla? Did you fall in love with Obi when you were taking care of him?" Shirayuki asked carefully.

"What made you think that?" Ayla's eyes widened in surprise.

"I remember back then you had acted sad for a while,"

Ayla tilted her head thoughtfully with a sad look in her eyes, "You know how I feel about love, Shirayuki. I think it was more of a kinship, he reminded me a lot of myself back before I met you," She gave Shirayuki a grateful smile.

"I see…,"

"So, now that I've shared my story, it's time you tell me yours."

"Hmmm, where should I begin…" She told her about everything that happened were prince Raji tried to make her his concubine.

"That Raji! I swear he never learns. I hope you put him in his place,"

"I had trouble with him at first but now he's trying to change. We're friends now,"

"Hahaha, leave it up to you! You always amaze me. If he's really changed maybe I'll go pay him a visit sometime, it's been a long time."

"Maybe if you go I'll go with you."

Shirayuki continued her story and they talked late into the night before falling asleep together.