#this is one of those fics I have a feeling in like two months I'll be back

[sabraeal]

The Vagrant’s Season, Chapter 1

[Read on AO3]

Written for @onedivinemisfit for her birthday, late by a couple days due to Life Constraints, and by that I mean two kids under 10 with head colds! This is part of Annie’s Shapeshifter AU, specifically a prequel to this piece

It may be muffled through wattle and wool, but Obi still hears the question loud and clear: “What do you think of the boy?”

Bark bites into his gloves as he stiffens, the chopped wood clutched tight to his chest as he presses against the wall. It can’t be possible the Goodwife’s considering the spring, not when there’s snow still piled in the streets and ice clings to every eave. There’s weeks yet until he has to worry, until the heat makes his scalp prickle worse than a bee swarm and he’s driven off just to satisfy the itch. Why, he still has to break through the ice on the well to get water in the morning, there’s no reason to think winter’s even halfway done--

Plink. Water splatters at the tip of his nose, hard enough to make him sniff.

“The boy? Obi?” Goody has no mate-- ah, no husband to speak of, but Harwin comes close enough to both. Not a thing he’s supposed to know, but this is hardly the first wall he’s heard too much through. “He’s a quick one, that’s for sure. Knows how to hold his tongue. Bit on the small side.”

Plink. Plink. His eyelashes flutter, flicking away the drops. They’re cold enough to sting, but there’s nothing to be done, not unless he wants to drop his whole load and give away the game.

“He’ll grow yet.” He won’t, but it’s kind of her to think so. Among his kind, he’s already tall enough, a full-grown male who peers over most heads. Last thing he needs is to stick out any more. “I thought I might speak to him. Ask if he wants to stay on through the spring. Might be nice to have another set of hands, specially when people start traveling the roads again.”

Plink. Obi looks up, licking the water from his lips. The icicle, it’s melting. Even now, he can see the next drop beading on its tip, trembling as grows bigger, no longer able to fight against the earth’s sway--

Ah, so it is time. 

Goody never has time for her little chat. Obi slinks in when the serving girls are all aflutter, asking about stews and trenchers and whether they’ll have enough ale in the cask for after sundown, leaving the wood by the hearth. It’s nothing to snag his sack then, filling it with what he can reach in the larder. Bread, cheese, dried meat-- anything that will keep; he’ll need it until the snow melts. There’s always forage to be found by those wise enough to see it, but nuts and winter berries make a thin meal indeed.

A meat pie on a sill makes for a king’s feast as he lets his feet carry him out of town, the stink of man fading away as he wanders from the well-trod road out to where stone cedes to pasture. Or at least it would, if the last storm hadn’t covered the fields. Might have been nice to stay on until the last frost; he had no proper bed, the way the serving girls did, but a mat rolled out on the hearth made for a warmer one than he’s used to. And if he was fed scraps...well, being fed was better than not being fed at all.

But winter’s comforts do not last spring’s thaw. The goodwife might find her boy handy now, but that would pass soon enough. All it took was a few custom asking about the gloves on his hands and the hat that never left his head, and folks would start looking at him sideways, start puzzling at a mystery never meant to be solved. Better to leave now, before his memory can sour.

By next year these folk will have forgotten him. After all, boys disappear off the streets all the time. No use remembering a scrawny one.

The pie loses its charm along with its warmth. Still, he’s eaten worse-- will eat worse, if history holds-- and he stretches it to its last crumb. After that first glut he keeps to a bite every few hours, ignoring hunger when it wraps its sticky fingers around his stomach. It’s hardly a stranger, after all. Practically an old friend. 

It’s a day’s walk to get to the forest’s edge. Not the one the townsfolk mark, just outside the glow of their little village, but the one he knows, long past where the stink of man has faded. Another day sees him safe, long past any trail even the most daring would mark. It’s only then that he dares to take off the cap.

It’s like being born again. All at once the world gains new dimension, a riotous cacophony that swells over him like a wave. His ears ache; both from the deluge of sound and from being pinned so tight for so long. A simple flick eases the physical discomfort, but the rest...

Obi breathes deep, cold burning his lungs. He’s dizzy, disoriented, but by all spirits in this wood-- as little as he can feet them-- he would take this over another second of pretending to be man’s child.

He dares a fire that night; a small one, just at the mouth of a cave he finds beneath a mossy outcropping. Sitting close, there’s enough light to stitch by-- and enough warmth that he can take off his trousers altogether. Still, he works quickly, ripping fabric and plucking out seams, squinting and swearing until they’ve been made new.

Getting to his feet with a wince-- ah, but these rocks are still cold, fire or no-- Obi pulls them on. It takes a moment to catch his tail, threading it through the hole he’s made. but when he’s finished...

Well, it’s easy to pick out his hasty work from the goodwife’s careful stitches, but at least his tail isn’t cramped inside a leg. Matted and sad as it is, it spreads over the rock like ash from a fireplace, or maybe ink from a quill. Given a few days, it’ll fluff up fine, the envy of every dog from here to Tanbar. And with these clothes, fresh from man’s world-- well, it’d be hard to keep the vixens off him, really. So long as the Keeper didn’t catch wind of a vagrant roaming around. That’s the last thing he needs, a wilder getting all curious about him.

He hulls a hunk of bread from his loaf, setting it to toast on a rock at the fire’s edge. It’ll make a meager feast even with the meats and cheese he’s got in his pack, but it’ll fill him. Until the snow melts, that’s all he can ask, unless he’d like hunger clinging to his shadow, a demon not even those mountain women can exorcise, try as they might. Worse comes to worst, he might be able to stave it off in his small form, feeding off the small rodents that peek their noses out of their burrows, but they’re a spare meal at best, hardly enough to keep him hunting. And still...

It’s not good to stay small so long. That’s what the wise women would say when he was just a kit, scolding the young when they’d play their hiding games out in the wood, seeing how long it would take for the other to find them. Obi had been the best at that game; he’d manage a day or two, enough that the patrols would have to find him, dragging him out from his warren by the back legs.

Stay too long like that and you’ll forget, one of them had creaked direly. You’ll forget what it’s like on two legs, on how to do anything but feed and flee. Wild in truth, that’s what you’ll be, and never able to come back.

He’d never taken the old witches seriously. Who could, when he was so used to the elders barking, make a face like that and you’ll get stuck! Yelp too much and you’ll only be able to howl! It was silly superstition, a way to make the kits behave.

Or so he had thought. Never again.

His mouth sours, so much that even water can’t wash it out. It takes a slice of sausage, salty enough to cleanse any spirit, to banish the taste. He’ll have to consider that though-- what he’s going to do during the weeks his supplies her sparse, and the forage is thin on the ground. Where he’ll go if he doesn’t want to hunker down and hope for spring.

Tanbar’s a fine enough stretch, so long as he stays out of the hills. He doesn’t need to get tangled up in territorial disputes, especially when the picking’s so slim. But go much further south and there’s patrols, two dogs to every pass, with noses sharp enough to pick out another in the brush. They’re not kind to vagrants there, even less so the ones they’ve marked before. Different Keeper, maybe, but Shenazards are either shrewd or stupid, and neither makes for a comfortable jailer.

There’s the Yuris Wilds even farther south, a long jaunt for a cold welcome, though the weather might well make up for it. But the Keeper...

Obi grimaces. The Valley’s his best bet. The snows may not melt as quick as further south, but there’s a patch that’s thick with winter berries not far past the territory’s edge, and plenty of tubers once the their stems peeks above the drifts. He’d hardly have to skirt far past the boundary to reap the rewards. Last time he’d gone there hadn’t even been a patrol; no point when the land’s been abandoned since the last Keeper’s time.

The toast burns his fingers when he plucks it from the stone, but even that can’t keep the grin from his face. There’s an extra slice of sausage when he takes his first bite, cheese and meat softening with the the warmth of the bread beneath it. His supplies may be scant this season, but he has something far better now: a plan.

He approaches the valley as a little one, cutting through the tall grass with as much substance as a shadow. The night covers him; as long as he keeps downwind and moves when the grass does, his pelt merely a darker spot among many. Not that there’s anyone keeping watch here-- he smells one dog at the most northern border, a sharp, unpleasant set that annoys more than unnerves, but once he skirts south it becomes all sweet with a hint of pine.

The patch is where he remembers it, nestled only an hour’s trot past the treeline. Dawn breaks when he reaches it, sun filtering through the thick canopy, dappling the snow like stained glass, and he flops into the underbrush with a relieves fwoosh. Three days of scant meals have left him famished, mouth watering as he stares up at the plump, ripe winter berries, but--

But he’s been traveling all night as a little one. Good for swiftness and stealth, but stamina...

His breath evens, chin resting on his paws. A small nap, that’s all he needs. Enough to let the sun come up and warm the air, and then he’ll shift, letting his clever hands take their bounty. Glut himself before he finds his next bolthole.

When Obi sleeps, he sleeps the sleep of victors. But when he wakes--

“Tulleri, lull, is he still alive?” The song cuts through the silence, bright as the sunlight itself, sending him stumbling to full wakefulness. “Far, far away in the forest.”

The vixen’s scent follows not long behind, carried on the same winds as her melody, a mix of sweet honey and bitter greens-- the same as the buds he used to pop with chubby fingers, their fluffy blooms spilling wetly across his fingers, leaving a stench the wise women would cluck over him for. Leave them, they would grouse, all three together, they taste better on the spit than they do your fingers, pup.

“Why yes, he is.” He’d slept so easy thinking it was simply the herbs growing beneath the snow, muted by the melt, but it’s her, her scent clinging to every branch. Foolish of him; the volva might warn against staying little lest the mind be forgotten, but they never spoke of this-- stay too long as a man, and go as nose-blind as one of them for your trouble. “The little one is lying in his cradle.”

Her words fade to a hum, certain in their uncertainty, and there’s no time to run, not when her next silent step brings her into sight.

She’s a tiny thing, even for a wilder. It’d be nothing for him to shift, to step out into into the patch with all the confidence his height could bring him and scare her out. Not his style; the men have saying-- they have one for everything-- you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Obi’s never tried to catch a fly, wouldn’t know why a man would, but he’s certainly had more luck with vixens playing sweet rather than sinister.

“I am busy, I cannot go out to the fields.” She drops to her knees as the next line hums through her lips, wordless, so close to him that his paws skitter back, folding beneath him. “Well, the wind blows and birch go, and the little one still sleeps so nicely.”

Obi had thought the town had been overwhelming with its hundred thousand scents, with pies being baked and men walking about their business, sweating and eating and leaving the scent of their mating upon them. He’d kept himself apart as much as he could, hiding his wilder-sensitive nose beneath a scarf, but this--

Honey and herb smother him, as palpable as a blanket over his nose, leaving it aching even as his eyes stung and watered. It’s too close, too much. And yet--

It soothes him. Soothes him so much his skin itches, even as he melts into the ground beneath his belly.

She reaches for the winter berries first, plucking enough to fill the basket she keeps at her side, singing the entire time. Children’s songs, enough that he’d wonder if she was a mother, if he couldn’t smell her innocence on her, like glazing on a cake. One left in the window, begging for clever hands to steal it.

Obi keeps his paws to himself. It’d be one thing to sniff around a vixen with a few seasons under her belt, but one unmated-- and as pretty as this one-- oh, that’d bring a Keeper down on him quick. And the last thing he needs is the attention of this one’s.

Instead he lazes, keeping one eye open as she works. He’s almost sad when the last berry falls onto her pile, but then--

Then she starts digging in the snow beneath. It parts under her hands like soap bubbles, crumbling to water and slush. Still, her fingers turn red as her cheeks, looking cold and swollen by the time she exposes the greenery underneath.

“There,” she murmurs, voice as sweet as her song. “Finally--”

Her breath catches, and it’s only then that he looks up, meeting her wide eyes in monochrome.

“Oh my.” His heart stutters when she smiles, the way females do at kits. “I didn’t know I had company, little one! Here.”

She takes a handful of berries, holding them out just beneath the bush’s shadow. “Would you like a snack?”

Obi whimpers, his stomach gurgling at the offer, but-- but--

She might think him a harmless little one, sleeping among the underbrush, but if he stepped out into the sunlight, notched ear and shadowed pelt, his brand just visible beneath the fur--

Well, he knows what welcome there would be for a male like him.

“Come on now.” Her lips purse, kissing at the air, coaxing him close. There’s a part of him that is tempted. Perhaps if he only stuck out his nose... “There’s plenty to share.”

Obi stares at her, sunk into his wary crouch, and when she reaches out a hand--

He bolts.

[sugume]

YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU

✧･. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.

( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.  

word count - > 6.6k

authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me! 

“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle. 

‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72  types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer. 

“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.  

‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types. 

“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.  

‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’ 

“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.” 

‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’ 

You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop. 

— 

“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.  

“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in. 

“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”  

You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself. 

“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.” 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles. 

“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening. 

“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.” 

You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car. 

“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car. 

“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.” 

“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.  

“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop. 

“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...” 

“Suguru is coming?” You scream.  

“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.” 

“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.  

“Y/n!” You mom gasps. 

“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better. 

“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad. 

“Sweetheart...” 

“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.” 

“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket. 

“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?” 

“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport. 

“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior. 

“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.” 

— 

“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.” 

“Kay, thanks.”  You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.  

After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72. 

‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.  

‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’  Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies. 

‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’ 

“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’ 

‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’ 

‘Are you serious?’ 

‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’ 

‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’ 

‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’ 

‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’ 

‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’ 

‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’ 

‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’ 

‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’ 

‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’ 

‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’ 

‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’ 

— 

You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents. 

“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.  

“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different. 

“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile. 

“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces.  You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.  

‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile.  Suguru has different plans. 

“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster.  Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?  

...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t. 

You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.  

“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.  

“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you. 

“What?” You ask. 

“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.” 

You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it. 

“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say. 

“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare. 

“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost. 

“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling. 

“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Please—” 

“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him. 

— 

You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.  

You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72. 

‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’ 

‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’ 

‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened. 

‘Oh wow.’ 

‘I know.’ 

‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’ 

‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’  

‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring. 

“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care. 

‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box. 

“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.” 

‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 

“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh. 

‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’ 

“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight. 

“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.  

‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’ 

“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.” 

‘And what is that?’ 

‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight. 

"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please... 

‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’  

You nod. 

‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’ 

You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand. 

You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day... 

“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt. 

“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.  

“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder. 

“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.  

You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming. 

“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out. 

“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water. 

“N-no!” 

— 

“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.  

“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress. 

“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously. 

“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie. 

“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.  

“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad. 

“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back. 

 Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.  

You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.  

You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.  

Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.  

“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.  

“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks. 

Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him. 

He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.  

“No babydoll—” 

“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed. 

“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase. 

“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.  

“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.   

“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.”   You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him. 

“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”  

You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother. 

“I know it’s a lot of information.” 

“It is.” 

“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.  

Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.  

“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.  

You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?  

You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.  

Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—” 

“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.  

“Suguru—” 

“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face. 

“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.  

“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.  

He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.”  You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair. 

“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you. 

Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.  

“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.  

“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.” 

You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.  

“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.  

“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.” 

“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.  

“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders. 

“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks. 

“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips. 

“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.  

“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man. 

“You okay babydoll?”  

“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.” 

“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.” 

“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.  

Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt. 

“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.” 

“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.  

“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.  

“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.  

“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch. 

Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.  

“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.  

“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.”  he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark. 

“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you. 

“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy. 

“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.  

“T-that was—” 

“The best sex ‘ve ever had.” 

“Same.” You smile before wincing. 

“What’s wrong babydoll.”  

“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble. 

“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly. 

“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”  

“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.”  He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.  

[alonetimelover]

pairing: (ex)Harry Styles x Ginger Spice's daughter!reader x Max Verstappen

fc: Sabrina Carpenter

summary: They broke up and she decided to disappear and write a heartbreaking song. Through this process her old friends from F1 were with her. With one two-time World Champion getting closer and closer.

warnings: swearing, cheating, Harry is an asshole in this (sorry!)

a/n: Long? Oh yes. It's a long one. But also my first F1 related fic, hope you enjoy!

masterlist

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f1 and redbullracing

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 349 392 others

f1 Is there a better way to start 2023 season than with YN YSN (sweetly called the tiny boss of Red Bull Racing) in the paddock? We say there is NOT! Welcome YN, we hope you have the best time with us!

view all 19 323 comments

yourinstagram thank uuuuu!

danielricciardo THE boss is here!

landonorris *heart eyes*

charles_leclerc Welcome back, YN!

ynupdates oh how i missed her face

ynsmybestie 5 months without even a photo of her finger online... it was a draught

ynsmymama yn's a vroom vroom girlie?????

ynsmybabie F1? is she a fan? tiny boss? what is going on?

⤷ ynupdates I feel like I'm the only one that knew. YN is Christian Horner's (red bull racing boss) step-daughter.

⤷ ynsmybestie isn't his wife ginger spice?

⤷ ynupdates yes! she's YN's mum. how do you guys not know that?

⤷ ynshands maybe because she's using her grandma's surname and not her mother's?

formulafan49 so we're getting las vegas content in bahrain? this sport is getting out of control with all those celebrities attending

⤷ landonorizz why are you being bothered by somebody that knows almost everything about formula 1? go be mad somewhere else

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yourinstagram

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 2 201 302 others

yourinstagram hiii💛 took a break and wrote a song. you're losing me is out now! i love all of you my pathological people pleasers.

view all 91 393 comments

danielricciardo be a happy song with me?

⤷ yourinstagram running to you right now

⤷ landonorris bringing mum's biscuits

⤷ maxverstappen1 I'll bring myself 😊

⤷ danielricciardo you lot weren't invited, but come in... I guess

landonorris you're the only person I'm not mad at for making me cry, ynn

⤷ yourinstagram you've heard the song before, lan

⤷ landonorris shhhh

⤷ danielricciardo it won't make her fall in love with you, norris

⤷ landonorris fuck you man

maxverstappen1 💛💛

ynupdates WHAT IN THE HELL HAPPENED HERE

ynsmybestie I won't recover. I fucking won't recover

ynsmymama I'm gonna die... its so sad. its heartbreaking. I'm losing myself

hArrysbtch woah, my heart cannot take this

harrysmoustache firstly, break my heart and take it, yn

harrysmoustache secondly, why is the whole f1 here? wtf

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 45 202 others

harryupdates In his latest interview Harry was asked about his private life - especially his relationship with YN. After the question of "do you feel like you throw a great love away?" Harry answered with "I don't know. I don't regret a lot of things in my life but that's [the relationship] probably one of them." You can read the interview via the link in our story!

view all 4 201 comments

hArrysbtch suddenly a six year lasting relationship was a mistake???

hArrysbtch ehh, harry. i kinda feel that the breakup (from Harry's side) happened a long time ago. there is no sparkle anymore

hArrysbtch now let me start on not mentioning her name like EVER "my last partner" her name is YN, why he can't just say it? it's been going on for years. since they started dating really...

harrysmoustache that wasn't the best interview

ynsmymama about 'you're losing me': "every artist has their imagination that they write down and then release. sometimes it's good and sometimes it should be kept private. i'm not the one to size it up." THAT WAS FUCKING LOW

⤷ harrysmoustache as much as I love him that was petty af

⤷ hArrysbtch especially when almost all critics named this song one of the best LYRICALLY and MUSICALLY in the last few decades

ynshands "I don't know if you can be ready to move on from a longterm relationship. it's definitely harder than from something that lasts months or two years." THIS MOTHERF****R IS TALKING ABOUT NOT BEING THE ONE TO MOVE ON BUT HE DID WHILE STILL BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP??????

⤷ ynsmymama this is called audacity

⤷ harrysfan49 cheating was never confirmed, was it?

⤷ ynsmybestie yes, it was. right after harry's "announcement" yn posted a story with lyrics from 'illicit affairs'. i think that's enough of a confirmation.

ynsmybestie yeah, here he comes again not being able to fucking say her name. those 6 years meant nothing?

⤷ harrysfan92 maybe he doesn't want to share his private relationship online

⤷ ynsmybestie i don't understand that. you're loving a person for six years, claiming them the love of your life, but saying the name is hard? he never mentioned her in interviews (my closest friend, my partner, someone I love). he couldn even show up at her birthday party because he had a photoshoot. just to point out, the drivers showed up in London, even though they had a race in Imola the next day.

⤷ harrysfan87 you guys are toxic. just gonna blame him for the breakup? unbelievable.

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ynupdates

liked by ynsmybestie, landofan92 and 88 203 others

ynupdates YN AND LANDO AT THE NIGHTCLUB IN MONACO!!!!!

view all 6 001 comments

ynsmybestie NO FUCKING WAY

ynsmybestie SHE LOOKS SO HOT

ynsmymama the way he looks at her ??? 🫠

ynsfan92 find somebody who looks at you just like lando looks at yn. YOU CAN'T

⤷ ynsmymuse have you seen how max looks at her?

landofan92 do I need to change my bio from norizz to yesrizz?

user39 yeah, moving on quickly when her exboyfriend is talking about how he adores her

⤷ ynsmybestie where??? because i only saw how awful he was to YN from the moment they broke up

user02 yeah, move on quickly and go trough all the drivers

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yourinstagram added to her IG story!

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lando.jpg

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 1 004 392 others

lando.jpg yn showed her favourites

view all 203 494 comments

danielricciardo LIAAAAAR. SHE LOVES ME MORE.

⤷ yourinstagram of course

⤷ lando.jpg i love your sarcasm

maxverstappen1 💛

yourinstagram not my fault you were the only ones available for photos

⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't mind

⤷ lando.jpg neither do I

⤷ danielricciardo I DO

⤷ charles_leclerc I DO TOO

ynsmybestie hot

ynsmybestie but also i see you YN with favouring Max and Lando, i see you girl

ynsmymama why I've never realised how hot those two are???

ynshands is there a thing she does badly?

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ynupdates

liked by ynsmybestie, maxandyn and 68 574 others

ynupdates YN and MAX VERSTAPPEN at the bar tonight in Zandvoort, celebrating Max's win!

view all 4 206 comments

ynsmybestie SEE? you defend the girl, you get the girl!

ynsmymama i mean i was rooting for them but i am still speechless

ynshands YAS PARENTS

maxfan85 after the race that he had, tying to yet another record and getting a girl? is there a thing he can't do or can't have??

ynsfan93 sooo, do we say they're together orrr?

⤷ ynsmybestie i mean, look at them. i have many friends but i'm not that cozy with any of them

⤷ ynsmymama i vote early stages of dating. yn's a touchy person in nature so you know, it can be that

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yourinstagram added to her IG story!

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a/n: do you want to see more of them?

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part 2

[guacamoleroll]

ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇʀᴄɪꜰᴜʟ, ɪ’ᴍ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴀꜱʜᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ · ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏꜱᴛᴏᴇᴠꜱᴋʏ

content. f!reader. discussions of existentialism, small themes of bodily harm, minor suggestive themes, protectiveness, pre-relationship, jealousy, fyodor is bad at feelings. nikolai has a crush on the reader. huge manga spoilers (bsd 114.5). 4k+ words.

author's note. guess who's back .ᐟ can you believe it's been almost two months since i've written a oneshot? crazy. i have multiple updates, but i'll be quick. am i working on my 1k+ event drabbles? yes! am i making a discord server? also yes (but only open to mutuals for the moment). am i working on my fyodor-fic? yes, yes, yes!

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

˚.⁺⊹ ꒱ 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰. what happens when an immortal man is met with unwavering, unconditional human compassion and doesn't know what to do.

OR fyodor has never been treated as a human until he met her.

Fyodor rarely lingered on thoughts of the past. He never permitted himself to bide beyond the threshold of a mere glimpse, to observe under the guise of such mortal qualities as attachment and resentment. In truth, he did not remember his first death, the incident only an imperceivable splinter in the mind he had perfected. But the pain, a bittersweet edge as the mind scattered and the body ceased to function—he would be a fool to forget it. Death was not as merciful as the poets described. They comforted themselves with ideas of fulfillment and eternal rest, but they would not know. Poetry is written by the living, and the dead do not remember.

The sensation of foreign flesh encasing his metamorphizing body like a malleable cocoon became ritual. His complex existence became an easier pill to swallow with each death, and with it, his consternation towards the mangled reflection staring emptily back at him drifted away. Crumbled with stabs, pinned with nails, hung with ropes—humanity relished the thrill of the kill.

Sinful and foolish. Those painful betrayals of yesteryear evolved into the occasional reminder, lost of sentiment as he released his bond with mortal toils like companionship and love. He had taken his life, and subsequently his death, into his own hands. It made each treachery predictable and left his stilled heart impenetrable.

His most human aspect lay in his most monstrous one—his ability. Abilities were a two-edged sword, both a burden and a blessing. He was no different. Forced to remain outside the binds of mortality, as his existence remained a constant reminder of the cycle of life and death. Within and without in every sense of the phrase. A paradox.

He could not deny the isolation, but he would bear it for the sake of a sinless world. His brushes with enemies and allies alike became his only source of company. Yokohama had been his favorite; he craved each new day, testing their limits as his mortal mind yearned to find someone like him, someone on the brink of true existence—but he did not find it in his battles, nor did he expect to.

No matter the desperation of his centuries-long searches, he knew he would not find his match—they likely did not exist or would not for centuries to come. He observed the lives of hundreds over the years, yet, through generations, they did not stray from routine. No amount of transformation in the world could shake innate human composition, selfish and starved from birth. From dust they were formed, and like all before them, to dust they became. The monotony dullened his spirit—some said he believed himself to be God, but who wouldn't think of themself better if they were in his shoes? But he allowed the criticism, for he could not expect a mortal soul to understand immortality.

But he found a fissure in his journey.

Your first encounter had not been one of coincidence—the seeds had been intricately planted for months—and you were identical to everyone else, down on your luck with nowhere to turn. A talented individual primed for the picking, with no choice but to take the hand of a demon, who soothed your worries with sweet lies and a benevolent smile. Each of his subordinates had their own aspirations, easy to interweave into his own intricate plans, with them none the wiser. It was simple.

You were supposed to be that simple. 

No one knew his true ability, whether he considered them an ally or an enemy. It made the truth pliable to his words and actions, leading others down one assumption or another without shining light on the truth. And he had drafted his subsequent death without a hitch, shot by a rash officer in the midst of a violent standoff, which would allow access to documents the man had been in the middle of delivering. But no draft of his death predicted a witness.

Your eyes were wide, frozen as your mind frazzled, but he did not think much of your initial reaction. It was not the first time he had an audience, but he loathed to end the show so soon—a performance without an encore was lackluster, but he couldn't spoil the surprise for the rest of the world. However, before he reached for the holstered gun on his belt, you scrambled towards him. It wouldn't have taken but a second to shoot you, but the contorted expression on your face, the tilt of your brow, and the contemplative purse of your lips had him pause. You had halted before him, your hands hovering over his shoulders, scanning his body.

"Are you okay?"

Those three measly words, such a straightforward question, drew out an unfathomable amount of irritation from the depths of his soul. Was it possible for a person to be so naïve? Anyone who had witnessed his ability had at least the insight to cower or run and be terrified for their life. It had always happened—people were predictable. His eyes bore into your own with more scrutiny than you had ever possibly received, but as if dissecting his most prevalent thoughts, you adjusted the wrinkled collar of his new uniform and spoke with a troubled frown.

"He killed you. You killed him. An eye-for-an-eye. A crime served with its equal punishment." Your eyes scanned over his clothes before lingering on his features, tracing across them with such, dare he think, care. As if ensuring this was the same man you had made a deal with many weeks before. 

When was the last time you had spoken directly to him—he realizes never. He was unfamiliar with your hushed tone, one that was scolding yet tepid. Others shook his hand in conjunction with cheap words and boisterous gestures as if to intimidate a predator, but you had mustered the courage to do one thing they couldn't. You looked him in the eye.

"Our world rarely follows that equilibrium," you said in the silence, inching from him to allow space. "I find it refreshing."

He raised a brow, words leaving him. "...You have quite a fascinating mind, Ms. (Surname)."

Your smile made the warmth return to his fingertips. "I would hope so. Wouldn't want to bore you."

For the following weeks, he found himself enveloped in ideas of coincidence. It had been eons since he left a variable to pure chance, though he supposed his modified routine had not allowed fate to prosper—but it wasn't like he was constructing moments to seek your presence on purpose. To have one measly interaction, an opening to prod at the folds of your delicate mind. No, of course not.

In fact, a trace of your familiar hairstyle or the flutter of your narrow array of outfits imbued with him the impulse to squash you like an insect, to erase your existence from the world's canvas and return to his monotony. You wouldn't see his approach, or perhaps you would, but you wouldn't stop him. Instead, you'd look upon him again with those same eyes, all-knowing yet completely clueless—but it was the thought of that expression that quieted those thoughts, a breeched sensation of carnal impulses gripping his heart like a vice. However, he remained curious, and you remained fascinating.

You met each interaction with hospitality like an ever-burning hearth that sparked a foreign warmth upon his skin, but not out of dread or devotion—those were the extremes in his subordinates, and no one strayed from them. They either bowed or cowered at his feet, but you did not falter to your knees, at least not in the way he expected.

You remained at a respectable distance, especially in comparison to your almost intimate touch prior. Still, it was not out of wariness at his ability's capabilities but rather out of knowledge of your own expendability. You understood your role as a subordinate but had no issue meeting his gaze, speaking level to him whenever permitted, yet respecting his authority in observation. 

His first judgment of your character, a naive and thoughtless woman, had been unfounded. You spoke with an intellect not found in many underneath him but did not utilize it as a weapon against others. Your awareness of the dangerous circumstances of your agreement seemed to contradict your actions, with no will to take out frustration towards your dealer. You seemed to, in fact, respect his artifice for its purpose and reap the perks of your deal rather than focus on the consequences—unlike most, you knew you weren't an exception to repercussions and accepted them as they were.

Your deal had not been one of much thought—he barely remembered it himself. You would work under him for an undecided amount of time and, in turn, receive shelter from the crimes of the outside world. It allowed for a menagerie of loopholes and interpretations, but it was of mutual understanding that he would not prevent your demise at the hands of enemy fire. Instead, you would only be allowed to live for as long as you were useful. Despite that knowledge, you met each moment with gratitude, relieved without the burden of death on your shoulders.

But your demise, supposedly so near, seemed to dwindle into the distance. He found alternate methods, better ones, to fulfill missions, other paths to follow, and subordinates to sacrifice in the name of salvation. Before long, you had worked for him for an entire year.

It was a week before your anniversary when you dared to surpass the threshold of his office's doorway, if you could call it that, and leaned against the frame to observe from behind, quiet as a mouse. He was surprised you hadn't been in here sooner.

"Do you need something?" he mused, a lilt of strange enjoyment in his tone. He didn't bother to pause in his motions, the strokes of his fingers against the keyboard only intensifying with every passing moment. He had been stripped of his normal coat, and ushanka sat on the side, which allowed for an almost softer appearance.

"I wanted to ask you a question."

He caught the unmistakable reluctance in your tone, a quiver in your voice, and he sighed. It was not the first time someone reconsidered their deal—it was quite common. He would appease their worries with those same sweet lies from before, before twisting them into a scheme so they would no longer become a problem. There was no use keeping around a subordinate who was bound to waver—but for the endless intrigue you provided, he would be merciful in his answer. Truthful, even. 

"I'm afraid there's no budging on your deal, Ms. (Surname)." The air of the office had staled, and he was sure you had stiffened from horror, primed to turn tail and scutter to your room to wallow in self-pity and despair.

"Uh, I actually just wanted to know if you had any book recommendations."

He paused in his typing, staring down at his hands. "Book recommendations."

"Forgive me," you muttered, tone loosened of its typical confidence as it brimmed with embarrassment. "It's just…you don't hire the most well-read company, and I'd assumed you'd have a more expansive catalog than any of us would."

It was quiet for an instant until an almost unheard chuckle relinquished from his tightened lips after the comprehension of such a unique request. You had subverted his expectation once more, such a strange little thing, and he twisted around to devour the view of your expression, which remained sheepish in the aftermath of your meek inquiry, softened moreso as the luminescent light of screens wavered to draw decadent lines across your features. 

"I'm certain I have something you'd enjoy."

You had not expected him to rise from his chair, standing like a deer in headlights as he approached the doorway. Only an amused lift of his brow and a smirk led you to realize that you blocked his path, and you scampered to the side. He led you through a narrowed path, one that turned unrecognizable after only a minute. The entire hall was dedicated to rooms you had never seen, isolated from everything else. 

His hand settled against a rusted knob, the metal door groaning with a boisterous shriek that undoubtedly led to your doom—that was until you stepped inside, mouth gaping in awe at the treasure of reading material. It was enormous, at least with the finite amount of space. His lips twisted into something uncharacteristically fond as your eyes lingered from book to book, practically sparkling at the array of texts, some of which only he could provide.

He selected a couple of volumes from varied genres, and you were about to thank him, but the following words that came from his mouth surprised you both. "Feel free to come here whenever you see fit." The books he handed over were old but well-cherished if the creased spines were of any evidence. "I'm curious to hear your thoughts."

Most wouldn't have dared to make their presence known after a chance interaction with him, but he knew it would be foolish to assume that you were like most or even to predict your next move. Even though he would never admit it, he was anticipating your presence in his office, and you arrived like a saving grace, primed with thoughts and annotations.

"He may be extreme, but he embodies the pinnacle of the human condition," you started, locked in on the main protagonist. "He's a paradox, morally virtuous yet rotten."

He held the returned book in his hand, refusing to acknowledge the subtle thump of his heart as his touch brushed over the impressions in the leather cover made by your fingers. Those imprints seemed to ground him, and he only allowed himself to embrace the sensation rather than consider why he felt so calm. 

"I see you enjoyed the story."

"I wouldn't put it like that," you argued, and he found himself only further encompassed in your discourse. "Enjoyment is easy to come by, but for a book to fulfill its purpose, it's supposed to make you think beyond its pages."

He leaned forward on his hand, humming as he yearned for more, homing in on every word and notation, for a chance to catch another delicious conviction spurned from your lips, hypnotized as you unpacked layers of moral conflict and human turmoil with ease. Your deconstruction was breathtaking, especially once you adjusted to your space, circling around his office and inching closer and closer. But then, you stopped.

"Hm."

He almost melted at the glimpse of that familiar expression—those furrowed brows and pursed lips. In further analysis, you resembled a bunny more than a human, and he almost expected a twitch in the tip of your nose as you became lost in thought. But the next look you struck him with, to his utter disdain, made him cave on instinct, like a predator about to sink his teeth in.

"A thought?"

You shook your head, clearing the air. "I forgot it as quick as it came."

But, like the sly prey you were, you slipped out of his queries with wit and once more avoided satisfying his curiosity, leaving him stranded in a position with no illusive way to question you for more. If it were anyone else, truly, he would have no desire for answers—they would be evident before they opened their mouths. Yet, every time he felt close to unraveling your secrets, you shrunk back. Almost as if you were teasing him. 

Two could play at that.

Months passed, and your discussions became daily occurrences, the topic shifting from philosophical debates to the beautiful world outside. Your presence was like sweet manna to the starved, and he found himself pacified but not fulfilled. But he did not consider one aspect of the alteration of his routine—that it would place a target on your back—not by his enemies but by other subordinates. 

A few of them had cornered you on a mission, planning to report back to him that you had died in the enemy crossfire—foolish that they didn't realize every death was always explicitly planned. Their insubordination would be met with fatal consequences, and while he wished in his heart to torment them for their witlessness, he knew that they would only cause further issues if they were allowed to remain alive. 

Luck had accompanied you on your errands, a watchful, frosted-haired jester performing a fantastical rescue in your final moments. It was not without injuries, as you lay in a bed with several sprains and bruises, but your rest was accompanied by the same man who had saved you, for curiosity was one of his main traits. He had been curious about you for a while, much like everyone else, and stated to Fyodor that he could not help but personally prod at his newfound "tether," whatever that meant.

But Fyodor knew, from the moment you exchanged your first few words, that Nikolai would become enamored with your inquisitiveness and warmth. Your approach to thought had been spell-binding to anyone who would listen, not only himself. You had an analytical approach similar to his, but it did not hold the same intent or technique. It sung with empathy, your personal philosophies shining through while allowing others to shape your opinions into a far more informed one. You reveled in a change—a most inhuman and most alluring feature. 

No one found more joy in that feature than Nikolai himself, who deemed you a dearest companion he must have lost and forgotten in the past—because where had you possibly been his entire life? His jokes made you laugh without restraint, but you didn't look at him as if he were a fool. 

"That pitiful clown didn't stand a chance," Fyodor noted to himself, though not without resentment towards the strain in his chest as Nikolai braced a hand on your shoulder. 

But the moment you leant your ear to the man and listened with an open mind to his ideals and demonstrated a drop of compassion towards his need to be free, Fyodor could recognize the familiar thoughts racing in Nikolai's mind. The same shock of finding someone who understood him and his purpose without repulsing his approach and the same impulse to sever the connection it created.

He knew it all too well. And he hated it, despised that he knew the sensation intimately, such a mortal affliction that it was reflected in another. He knew these emotions, at least some of them, but he did not think of them until another soul dared to encroach upon them. Upon you. 

Oh, how he despised you. 

He did not fathom why Nikolai had not done away with you—at least, he refused to. His stomach emptied with an insatiable hunger as the jester rushed away in a turn of his overcoat, with Fyodor not able to disregard the one visible eye of the man that looked upon him with an understanding far too founded.

He entered the room, your room, with an unease unlike him. You glanced from your reading material, another book from his collection, your expression of contentment shifting from content, to confusion, to land on concern, thinly veiled by a polite nod and 'hello.' He had never checked on any of his subordinates before and was almost willed to leave as quickly as he came.

"The antagonist is certainly intriguing, wouldn't you say?"

But you did not acknowledge his behavior. He never thought of himself witless enough to be in a position in which he could be called out for making such instinctual, carnal decisions—only for the subject of those to dismiss his intentions entirely. To not take advantage of his obvious vulnerabilities. You must have noticed it, but he realized it was never fear nor respect that made you avoid questioning him. 

He had never noted it prior, but you did not back out of conversations because you displayed discomfort. You were rather easy to read, and you knew that, but it had seemed you were concealing some further. It was not a part of yourself that you had hidden, but instead, you had allowed him to hide his own susceptibilities under the guise of them being yours, not prodding him from your own observations out of respect for his boundaries. He was not an open book to many, but he had become another novel to you. Another character to dissect. But you didn't.

He left with more questions than any answers he had ever received, having found the answer to his first question, but only at a cost that left him to spiral in his own contemplations. What would cause you to be so considerate? He was left distracted by your presence more than ever before, even when you were not in the room. You were a nuisance, yet so refreshing. A paradox, as you would've cleverly pointed out—and he loathed that he had become so intimately familiar with you that he knew that.

He ceased to note your mannerisms as an alley to exploit you, but it seemed he hadn't in months. Instead, he had found them a constance he looked forward to. The soul that he had been seeking—was it indeed you?

And to his immortal horror and human content, he knew that your roles had been reversed. That if you had approached with a blade and asked him for his heart, he would carve it out himself without another thought. It would only take a smile and the brush of your hand, and he would be your puppet.

It had been another month, and you were permitted to walk the harbor docks without accompaniment; not that many were allowed to accompany you in the first place. You were satisfied with watching the water from a distance, stilled by the winter wind that whipped around with a bite. In deep thought, as you considered the past few months, almost two years of the same routine, and you smiled. Life had not been monotonous since becoming a member of the Rats, and your strange companionship with your boss left you relishing each new interaction. There was a bittersweetness to that man, and it had not taken much to reach it—it wasn't like you had done that on purpose. 

But there was no need to ponder over that—it was cold. Your clothes were far too thin, but it wasn't like you were paid a normal salary like most people. You stuck with the clothes you had been able to take, always either too thin or too thick before the seasons, but you would make do like you always did.

That was until you felt the pressure of heavy fabric swallow you whole. You didn't even think to look up, too overwhelmed by the scent of old ink and the warmth of roughened fabric, marred with imperfections that could only be seen close up, and you brushed your fingers over them and simply relished in the sensation that the impressions grounded you. The puffed collar tickled your neck, and you couldn't restrain your laughter as you tried to wipe the water away from your eyes. But it was warm, so warm despite its exterior, and that was all that mattered to you.

You finally looked up.

"Fyodor?" you whispered, your voice almost lost in the wind.

He knew the questions in your gaze and the familiar contemplation as you debated whether to say anything more. You knew, in the depths of your kindred soul, that he would not answer your questions, nor did he have the answers himself, despite his longevity. Some things were best left unsaid. He was determined to uncover everything about you and this illness, an affliction that you had marred him with, to quell the rapid beat of his heart, a heart that finally belonged to him again.

"It's cold," he replied, sat beside you.

Neither of you looked at each other as you gazed out into the harbor, but for the first time, neither of you were bothered by the cold anymore.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @aureatchi @betweensinners @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @crayonssz @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @number1morihater @fyorina

© 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 2024 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[suguruplsr]

Your daddy’s bestest friend

✰ ✰ ✰ your daddy’s best friend is so nice !

જ⁀➴ it should be despicable how long i’ve spent on this so the warnings might not be accurate and maybe a few typos i looked over 🙁

,, dads best friend toji! whose also a dilf! x fem!reader, porn with little plot , small fic , pet names (sweet girl, darlin’, sweetheart, baby, princess) , age gap (reader in college, 20’s) , oral (m & f receiving) , unprotected , dumbification , overstimulation , degrading (wrds: whore, slut, brat) , slapping (like twice) , brat taming , lots of cum, reader gets like really horny at some point—

divider from @/cafekitsune

you were happy that your dad was finally able to go out and enjoy his life while in his late 40's, now no longer having to hover over his daughter, or take care of her all on his own.

being in college, still living with your parent, and having a part time job as a server had it's lows, but with the help of your dad and a few generous tips at work, you knew you'd finally able to move out his house in a few months. much to his dismay.

the idea of finally being a independent adult and living on your own was as exciting as it was scary. even your dad was a little worried from how eager you were to leave him, and maybe you did feel some dread about leaving.

Well, the dread of not being able to see the new friend your dad made some months ago, Toji, whom you've gotten accustomed to seeing on their football nights and eventually, every other day.

he was laid back and chill with no care in the world almost. his muscular figure always sprawled out on the couch, giving you casual greetings with a smug smirk and pet names whenever your dad wasn't around. after a week or two of coming over, you began to see him around the house often.

the annoyance of him constantly coming over slowly dissipated and now you enjoy noticing those fleeting glances he gave you. knowing well that you were doing the same.

It's just that, sometimes, you couldn't help but  sneak down to the kitchen for a few snacks or drinks while they watched the game. just so you could eye him a for a good few seconds. he surely had to be in his 30's, despite the rough tone of his voice, and his obvious older age. but there's no way someone who like him, was around your fathers age.

and perhaps you've let your eyes trail a bit lower some times, trying to go unnoticed as you visibly gulp at the bulge that peeked through his pants. always excusing yourself to be alone to those scenarios of how you'd make sure you get at least one night with him before you leave.

thinking about his large build that towered over you. huge hands that would cup your body just right. you could tell just from the way he has to spread his legs wide to get comfortable, that he had a thick cock. 'he'd definitely be a good fuck' , you always thought to yourself.

and maybe today could be your chance.

"Dad, i'm not a child. you know I don't need to be watched over."

You crossed your arms with a small huff, your disapproving eyes meeting your fathers. Okay, you were a little excited that you'd be alone with Toji, but your judgement got in the way.

"I'm leaving for over a week sweetie, I just want to make sure you're going to be taken care of."

Your dad sighed reassuringly, shaking his head and parting from the hug, opening the door of his black 2013 ford edge SE sport. "I love you sweetheart. Toji i’m sure you—"

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her." Toji waved him off with a smile, you following in suit, ignoring the dangerous way those words rolled off his tongue as your dad pulled off. you couldn't help but feel as if there was another meaning to them

After wards you both walked in, Toji watching as you walked to the stairs. "You're a daddy's girl aren't ya?" he smirks, sitting on the couch and grabbing the remote.

"Well he's who I grew up with so it's only natural." your voice got quieter with each word as you watched his legs instinctively spread to get comfortable. your eyes flickered back up to his, embarrassment flooding your body when you saw his eyes already looking at you.

"Mind getting closer? Couldn't hear ya sweet girl." he chuckles, putting down the remote and gesturing you over to him. his eyes had a small gleam to them that almost made your knees buckle as you walked over to him. sitting on the other end of the couch.

Eventually you two ended up talking about more than just your dad. he even told you about his son and that he was currently co-parenting. while you told him all about your college life, from the nerve wracking work to the frat parties you occasionally attended.

You didn't even realize how much time had past until Toji was asking what pizza you'd like so he could order. which led to you two to watching a horror movie which he had chosen.

"How can they be so stupid.." your rolled your eyes, watching the classic 'pick me blonde girl' die with her boyfriend. you had unconsciously laid your head on his shoulder long ago, small comments about the characters leaving your lips every few minutes.

"s'posed to be entertainment." he replied with a chuckle, amused by your distain. "wanna watch somethin' else?" you could feel his voice vibrating against your body.

"this'll be fine. just wanna see how it ends." you sigh, reaching over to the counter on his side, only to feel his hand clutch your waist. "don't want ya to spill anything." he mumbles, guiding you back as he hands you your drink.

Yet he didn't move his hand, the pads of his fingers pressing comfortably into your skin and massaging you. after a few moments of silence and hidden glances you decided to take your chance, letting him put up your drink and while you swiftly leaned more into his hold.

his hand was draped across your back and your head on his chest. "well aren't you gettin' comfortable.." he hums, holding your legs on his lap, his other hand moving along your thigh. "maybe." your purr with a smile, watching as his eyes looked down at you with a look that made your stomach turn in excitement.

"You don't really care about the movie do you?" he smirks, his tone low as his hands nearly slip under your shorts, close to the hem of your panties. "Not really. I got other entertainment." you said smugly, moving your hips so his hands could reach further up your shorts. "fuckin' knew it" he says breathlessly, squeezing your thigh and pulling you fully onto his lap, your legs around his thighs.

"Saw you starin'.. those frat boys don't take care of ya?" the pad of his thumb pressed your bud through your flimsy underwear. rubbing around to feel your wetness. "they don't do a good job y'know.. want someone more experienced." you smile, holding onto his shoulders as you sat up and let him pull down your shorts.

he sighs at the sight of you, only in a tight t-shirt and underwear. on his lap. "I'll take care of ya sweetheart, sittin' so pretty f'me." his fingers slid your underwear to the side, one hand holding them to the side and the other slowly sliding up and down your folds.

"Make sure you take, o-oh! um.. extra care of me." his middle finger teased around your hole before pushing in, making you take a sharp breath. he chuckles at your stammering, placing a kiss on your nipples that poked through your t shirt. "I got you baby."

his finger curls inside you in a back and forth motion, slowly inching deeper and spreading your walls wider for him to slide in his ring finger. the feeling made you squirm, “Toji!” you whine in his ear and fall more into his hold, much to his enjoyment.

"your hear that? what a messy girl you are.." he groans, his voice having a teasing edge. you held back your moans, listening to the squelching sound of your cunt wetting his fingers. you felt him move your underwear more, gently pressing his thumb on your bud and rubbing it.

a broken moan escapes your lips at the stimulation, your thighs beginning to shake as you rolled your hips deeper onto his fingers. "m'close! please, just like that. please make me cum!" you whimper, nails digging into his back as you chased the feeling building up inside you.

"oh look at you.. gonna make a mess on me. sweet girl?." he murmurs in your ear, his fingers scissoring your hole. the movement of his thumb started to become faster while his tongue licked your hard buds through your shirt. making the hot feeling of your release rush through you.

your pussy squeezed his fingers tight as you came, a loud porn-worthy moan leaving your lips. he let you continue to ride out your orgasm, his fingers slow and tantalizing, until your moans died down into small blabbering.

"so fucking hot." he groans, removing his fingers and finally pulling you in for a kiss. your lips sloppily mesh together as you unbuckle his jeans. "want you so bad. please." you whine, struggling to undress him amidst heated moment.

"you got me spoiling you huh? i got you sweet thing. just take this off baby." he pulled the strap of your underwear, standing up and undressing himself. you eagerly followed, then sitting up on the couch, on your knees so you were eye level with the thick girth put in front of you.

"can i?" you mumble, glancing up at Toji. your mouth practically watering at the sight of his thick hard cock dripping with pre cum. so tauntingly close to your lips. "of course darlin’." his smirk was wiped off his face at the feeling of your hand's beginning to jerk his cock.

moving closer, you stuck out your tongue, his pre falling into your mouth. a guttural sound rumbled through his body from your filthy act. his cock twitching with need. "fuck. c'mon baby ne—" you cut him off by leaning up and wrapping your tongue around his tip.

your lips slid onto his cock and you swirled your tongue around him hungrily. flickering your eyes up, you studied him with a look of desire. the sound of his groans made your pussy clench on nothing but air. his hand reaches down and runs through your hair, nearly gripping it every time you kissed and licked one of the veins along his cock. but Toji wasn’t going to ruin your fun tonight, he had days to ram into those cute glossy lips of yours.

"could cum just like this." he says breathlessly a small whine, nearly, falling from his lips. he closes his eyes with a mutter praise when your mouth took almost all of him in. you hummed, slowly sliding your mouth along him and setting a good pace, one hand holding onto his thigh while the other wrapped around the base of his cock. matching the pace of your mouth.

he bites his lip, looking down at you with hazy eyes and slowly grinding himself into your mouth. "m'gonna cum. keep it in your mouth. gotta see how disgusting you are, heh" you acknowledge him with a small hum, sucking him off with a sudden fervor that made him cover his grunts as he spills into your mouth.

you milked him, all of his cum tainting your mouth white. you stick out your tongue that was heavy with his seed, “gonna turn you into a dirty slut. swallow it f’me princess.” Toji groans, noticing your how your thighs clenched together. you came just from sucking him off. making him chuckle and bend down to you, pushing you back on the couch as he pries your legs open.

“pretty pussy leakin’ cus of me? how cute.” you meet his eyes as you swallow his thick cum, savoring the salty taste. “did so well for you Toji! please fuck me. wanna cum on your cock..” you plead, squirming at the feeling of his hands playing with the cum that stuck to your skin all around your pussy. “since you asked so nicely” he says lowly, sitting beside you and moving you onto his lap.

your cock hungry self immediately grabbed his tip, lining him with your hole and then taking him all in one go. your pussy slamming down on his cock.

“fuuuuckkkk! y-you know how to take dick huh?” he grunts, holding your thighs down tightly as he tries to not lose himself in your tight cunt. you clenched around him, body slumped against his chest as you already felt another orgasm approach. “Toji please! let me move, wanna cum!” you whine, tears building at the way you pussy twitched around his girth. making your mind feel fuzzy.

before you could continue your rant, Toji held you up by your waist, then slamming you back down. a smug smile playing on his lips at the sight of your eyes immediately rolling back, cute little moans leaving you. “you’re a fucking brat—“ he does it again, adding a slap to your ass as you come back down on his cock. “but it’s okay, just gotta—“ he groans, slamming you down on him again before switching your positions into a mating press, shuffling a pillow underneath you before laying you on it.

“just gotta put you in your place. damn slut.” he smirks down at you, reducing you into blabbers of his name and how good his cock is as he thrusts into you. “where did my cock drunk whore go?” he mocks, his cock deep as he wipes the fat tears that rolled down your face, then he slaps your breast, watching how it jiggled while he thrusted into you.

“Toji! m’sorry! was t-too greedy, fuck!” you sob, taking another thrust, hands trying, and pitifully failing, to push his pelvis away. he was wrecking your puffy pussy. “i ain’t ask all that.” he swats your hands away, instead pinning them up and beginning to quickly thrust into your soaking cunt.

“might forgive you if you cum on this cock. said you was gon’ do that right? go ahead. dumb slut.” he tugs your body higher with your wrists, hitting your pussy at an angle that made your thighs shake. straining as he feels his cock about to spurt into you. “gonna cum for you Toji!!” you cry clenching tightly around him, your messy pussy cumming all over him while he shoots his seed into you.

“this pussy is a fuckin’ vice.” he groans, slowly pulling out of you, hushing your whines with a deep kiss, pulling you onto his lap as he gets comfortable on the couch. he begins kisssing away your tears and sobs. “toji.. fuck i can—“

he kisses you, the massaging of his hands into your plush body slowly bringing you from your high. “shh, s’okay. gotta fuck you in the shower. messy, just like this.”

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03 @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts@picketniffler@pedroslittlelady

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[hannieehaee]

DOES HE KNOW ? (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.

content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1k (teaser); 9.8k (full fic)

release date: april 17th

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a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist

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Something was clearly wrong with you.

Was Lee Chan hot?

Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.

You could date it back to some months ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.

For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).

After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.

"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.

"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.

You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.

Maybe he was drunk?

He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.

"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.

Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.

Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).

You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?

"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.

"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"

"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.

You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.

"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.

You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.

"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.

He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."

"He has a name, Soonyou-"

"None of us really care enough to learn it."

That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.

"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.

"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.

"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.

With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.

At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.

Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.

Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.

God damn you, Lee Chan.

...

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[puckbunnyera]

Just Friends | Luke Hughes

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

genre: fluff

word count: 2.3k

warnings: none

notes: it's been less than 24 hours since i posted my first fic and i've already received a few asks for a part 2 so here it is. i'll link the first part here. thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read it, like it, reblog it, etc. i'm always really nervous to post my own writing so any type of interaction with it feels good to see.

also, i know the timelines of the games played in both fics don't align with the actual events in real time but we are just going to ignore that for the sake of the plot.

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

I sigh as I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, doing one last fit check before Luke arrives. I'm nervous. I come to this realization as I smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in my shirt. Why? I couldn't tell you. It's been almost two months since the night I met Luke, and we've talked and texted almost every day since. We've even hung out multiple times since then, but I always seem to get all nervous and jittery anytime he presents the offer. My thoughts start to consume me to the point that I'm almost tempted to text him and ask for a rain check, but before I can fall too deeply into them, my attention is stolen by the two girls lying on my bed behind me.

"I still can't believe you're dating The Luke Hughes." One of my friends says causing me to turn my back towards the mirror to look at her.

"We aren't dating." I scoff. "We're-"

"Right, you're 'just friends'." My other friend interrupts, rolling her eyes and using her fingers to make air quotes as she says the words.

"We are." I shrug, moving to sit in my vanity chair so I can put on my shoes.

"You don't have to believe us if you don't want to, but he totally has the hots for you."

"It's so obvious. Any time he has the chance to get away from his job, he's calling, texting, or coming to see you. Even if it's only for a short amount of time. Those aren't typical behaviors of a guy who wants to be 'just friends'."

They continue to go on and on as if they're trying to convince a jury that they're innocent of a crime. The sound of my phone dinging from beside me on the table finally brings their rambling to an end. I pick up to find a text from Luke.

From Luke🏒: i'm here

To Luke🏒: omw

"I would love to stay and continue this conversation," I smile sarcastically as I stand up, "But my friend is waiting for me downstairs." I make sure to add extra emphasis on the word friend.

They both giggle and bid their goodbyes as I walk out of the room. When I make it downstairs to the lobby of my apartment building, Luke, in all of his handsome glory, is waiting patiently by the door.

"Ready to go?" He questions once I'm standing in front of him. I nod in confirmation and he opens the door for us, placing a gentle hand on my back to lead me out.

"What's the plan for today?" I ask once we're settled into the car.

"I need to drop off a couple of things at the dry cleaners since my brother forgot to do it," He gestures to the items in his backseat. "But then I figured we could go to dinner, catch a movie, and then maybe grab some dessert before I take you home."

"Sounds good!" I reply with a smile, with which he returns one of his own before putting the car in drive and pulling away from my apartment building.

Things are going well today. Really well. We're having fun and Luke is being as sweet as always. However, that's the only problem. Despite the stance I took in the argument with my friends, I can't help but let their words get to me. The whole evening, I've been reading too deeply into every little thing he does. Every door he holds open for me, every chair he pulls out for me, every accidental brush of our hands when we walk side-by-side. I'm trying not to let it show, but when Luke's voice rattles my thoughts and pulls me back down to Earth, I know I'm failing.

"Are you okay?" He asks as we sit in the car, waiting for the red light to turn green. "You've been pretty quiet today."

"Really?" I ask, genuinely confused because I hadn't noticed that change in my behavior. When he responds with a solemn nod, guilt rises in my chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was. It has nothing to do with you." Yet it has everything to do with him.

"Did something happen?" He pushes further.

"No, just have a lot on my mind with work and all, but I'm okay. Promise." I give him a soft smile in hopes that it will give him enough reassurance to drop the conversation. Thankfully he does, but the look in his eyes shows clearly that he doesn't believe me. "So my friends were telling me that you have a home game coming up in a couple of days against your oldest brother's team. Are you excited?" I change the subject quickly.

"Yeah," He nods, a smile gracing his features. "My parents are gonna be in town to watch us face off against each other. All three Hughes brothers on the same ice. I'm hoping it will be as exciting as everyone and the media are making it seem." He chuckles. "I'm also just really excited to see Quinn. We haven't gotten to see each other much since I moved out to Jersey and the season started. I think it'll be nice to have us all back together again, even if it's just for a couple of days."

"I bet it will be."

"I'm glad you brought this up because I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Would you maybe want to come to the game?"

"Do you want me to come?" I'm praying the hopeful look in my eyes isn't obvious.

"Yeah," He nods. "I really do."

"Then I'll be there." I assure him. "The girls were talking about purchasing tickets anyways, so I'll tell them to make it three tickets instead of just the two."

"Don't worry about it. I got it covered."

"Luke, you don't have to do that." I shake my head, readying myself to argue.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to." The look he gives me makes me forget any rebuttal I had previously prepared. "Plus, I already got the tickets and the seating arrangements set up."

"And you just knew I was gonna say yes?" I reply, crossing my arms.

"No, but I was hoping you would."

"I guess some dreams really do come true." I joke.

"I guess so."

We continue to talk and joke around for the remainder of the drive. It goes by a little too quickly though, because before I know it, he's putting the car in park in front of my building. Being the gentleman that he is, he walks me all the way up to my apartment door. It's not until I have unlocked and opened the door that he finally says goodnight, placing a soft peck on my cheek before walking away. Once he has disappeared into the elevator and I'm sure he's gone, I close and lock the door.

As I'm getting ready for bed, I become aware of the slight ache in my cheeks from smiling so much. As soon as my head hits my pillow, the realization dawns on me. I am in love with Luke Hughes.

• ───────────────────────────── •

I'm still in shock at the fact that he really went all out with the tickets. My friends seem to be as well considering that they still haven't managed to pick their jaws up off the floor yet. Never in my life would I have ever expected to be seated in one of the arena's luxury suites. I feel a little bad the more I dwell on it. There are more deserving fans that could be sitting here, yet some girl who knew nothing about the sport two months ago had them handed to her at no cost.

"Hi, you must be Y/N." An unfamiliar woman's voice pulls me from my pity-party.

"Oh, hi." I greet her as I turn in her direction.

"I'm Luke's mom, Ellen." She smiles and pulls me into a quick but gentle embrace. "And this is my husband, Jim." She gestures to the man beside her.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." He offers a hand for me to shake.

"You as well." I accept it before introducing them to my two friends, who are not-so-discreetly eavesdropping on the conversation.

We all find a seat and fall into casual conversation. Just getting to know each other and talking about this, that, and the other. Once the teams begin to make their way onto the ice, our attentions shift away from each other and onto the players.

Having admitted to my lack of knowledge of the sport before the game started, Jim and Ellen kindly explained the game to me so I would know what is going on. By the end of the first period, I'm clued in enough that I don't need it anymore and eventually, I become just as immersed in the game as the rest of them are.

It's in the second period that Luke scores a goal and we all stand up, cheering loudly with the crowd. The excitement is so high that I don't even shy away when Ellen happily pulls me into a tight hug before pulling away and continuing to cheer for her youngest son. Third period seems to go by in a flash and then the game is ending with a 6-5 win for the Devils, both Jack and Luke having contributed to the score with goals of their own.

Once the final buzzer goes off, my friends bid their farewells before heading out to go home. However, I hang back with Ellen and Jim upon the request of Luke. I follow the two down from the suite until we make it to where the locker rooms are located, waiting in the hall for the three brothers to emerge. We stand around conversing for about ten or so minutes before the men finally make their appearances.

They all embrace and greet each other as I stand back and watch with a smile. They really are a beautiful family. Once they all break away, Luke turns his attention towards me. He steps forward and reaches for me, pulling me into his arms.

"Congratulations." I speak softly as I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, his wrapped around my waist.

"Thank you." I can hear the smile in his voice.

Time escapes me as I stand in his arms. I'm not even sure how long we've been holding onto each other. It's his brother's voice that finally has us separating.

"You must be the infamous Y/N." Quinn steps up, a smug grin on his face. "I've heard so much about you."

"I've heard a lot about you as well," I respond politely, despite the blush I'm sure I'm sporting due to his teasing tone. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Will you be joining us for dinner?" Ellen asks from where she stands, now next to Quinn.

"Oh, um," I look to Luke for an answer. He nods, a pleading look in his eyes. "Yes, I would love to." I finally reply.

With that being said, we all begin to exit the arena and head to the parking lot. We're almost to the vehicles when Luke gently grabs my hand and pulls me to a stop. Once his family is out of earshot, he begins to speak.

"This might seem random and sudden, but I've been thinking about it for a while." He starts, looking away nervously and lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "And feel free to say no because I don't want you to feel like you have to say yes just because I'm asking. Or if you feel like you need time to think it over, feel free to take all of the time you need. Actually, maybe I-"

"Luke," I say his name softly, placing my hands on his reddening cheeks and forcing his gaze back to mine. His rambling comes to a halt. "Breathe."

"Sorry." He inhales deeply before releasing his breath. "I was wondering, would you be my girlfriend?"

It's my turn to take a deep breath. Out of all the things he could have said, I was not expecting this. I take a moment to gather my thoughts as a smile begins to pull at my lips.

"I would love to." I nod, my smile growing larger resulting in his own.

"Well," He takes a step closer to me. "Since you're my girlfriend now, does that mean I can kiss you?" His question flusters me but I try hard not to show it.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"Really fucking badly."

"Then kiss me, Luke."

And so he does. His lips crash into mine in a soft but passionate kiss. As if he has waited a lifetime to do it. It's gentle yet desperate. As we finally part, he pecks my lips a few more times before pulling away completely. He opens his mouth to say something but is stopped by Jack shouting from where his family is waiting by the cars, surely having seen the whole display.

"If you two lovebirds are done sucking faces in the middle of the parking lot, I would like to leave now. I'm fucking starving." He teases.

We both turn our gazes in time to see Quinn smack the middle brother in the back of the head and both parents shaking their heads at their son's antics. Luke chuckles at the scene as he intertwines his hand with mine and begins to walk to the car. My heart flutters as I finally admit the obvious to myself. Maybe we weren't ever just friends. I mentally roll my eyes as I climb into the back seat, already picturing the two squealing girls in my head and the endless amounts of I told you so's that I'm sure to hear when I fill them in. However, when Luke slides into the car next to me and interlocks our hands once again, I can't bring myself to care. I think I like this little life.

[joels-shitty-puns]

Javing Feelings

Javier Peña x Inexperienced!Reader

Summary: You have been dating Javier for six months now, and the two of you finally slept together for the first time as a couple (and your first time ever). However, you can't seem to stop fantasizing about giving a blowjob for the first time. Luckily you have Javi to help you learn.

Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Smut !!!!! Porn with little plot. TBH I wanted just porn but my mind wouldn't let me and gave them a back story. Oral (m receiving, f alluding to). Masturbation (f). Kissing, biting. Nipple/breast kissing/biting. Cursing. Cum eating. Dirty talk. Let me know if I forgot anything!

Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. Inexperienced. Reader and Javi work together but reader's job isn't specified.

Word Count: 3.2K

Hi!!! I hope you enjoy this fic. There's some light Spanish in here but my Spanish is rusty. It was never great to begin with, so if it sounds weird pls let me know. I haven't finished watching Narcos and I'm not sure my portrayal of Javi is great. But I wanted to try something new and my mind had this filthy idea lol. This also required me to do a little research (!!!) because I haven't done this personally. Please let me know your thoughts!

_____

It had been six months of dating Javier Peña, and to say you were surprised was an understatement. Surprised at the length of your relationship, surprised at how loving and caring he could be. Surprised at how patient he really was.

It's not that you would ever mean to say anything poorly about his character. You loved your man, and he loved you. But the rumors that used to fly around him at work for being a player and a sex god were hard to ignore. Sleeping with his informants, openly flirting with coworkers, bringing home a new woman every weekend. He was known for frequenting strip clubs and meeting up with prostitutes, and the jokes ran endlessly in the office. Most notably, they came from his partner Steve.

So when he asked you out the first time, you said no. You had never been with a man before, and it certainly wasn't going to be a one night stand with someone like Peña. He wouldn't hit it and quit it with you. You were worth more than that, and you knew it. Even if he did look at you with those big puppy eyes. Even if his chest did peek out under that hot pink shirt that made you drool, or if he licked his plump lips before placing a cigarette in the slot below his perfectly groomed mustache. Even if he did strut through the building like he owned the place, his tight jeans hugging his ass and crotch in all the right places, making you practically salivate.

You wouldn't give in to him. You wouldn't be used for sex. You wouldn't be a fuck buddy. You needed love. You deserved love. Especially for your first time.

Now, that's not to say that you didn't think of him occasionally when you let your hands wander under your covers and below your panties. Didn't think of his lips when you ran your fingers through your arousal, or circled your finger around your clit before sliding down to your entrance. It probably would feel good if he filled it…

But you wouldn't indulge in that fantasy in real life.

_____

So when the two of you were the last ones at the bar following a work happy hour one night, you were surprised to see that he hadn't left with a woman.

He swallowed down the last of his drink before standing up and tossing a bill to the bartender. “I'm going to head home, I'll see you at work,” he grabbed his jacket off the bar.

“Wait…are you okay?” You asked him curiously, though you weren't about to ask ‘why aren't you taking a woman home?’ and make him feel bad.

Javi gave you a look, studying your face as if to wonder why you would possibly care about whether he was okay. You turned him down. You didn't like him, you weren't attracted to him. Despite the friendship you'd developed from working closely together, he obviously didn't mean as much to you as you did to him.

“I'm fine, cariño. Nothing to worry about,” he headed towards the door.

“Wait… Javi?” You grabbed your purse and your coat, throwing down a tip on the bar before following him out the door.

“Clearly something's wrong with you, why don't you talk to me?” You pleaded, stopping within touching-distance of him on the sidewalk. “Did I do something?”

“No,” he sighed. “You didn't do anything wrong. It's just me,” he shook his head, turning to walk away.

“Is this because I said I wouldn't go out with you?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

He turned, letting his eyes flash with sadness for only a second before responding. “It's okay, hermosa” he sighed. “You don't feel the same way and that's fine.”

You gave him a confused look, your eyebrows furrowing. “Do you actually have feelings for me, Javi?”

“Of course I have feelings for you cariño, why do you think I asked you out?” he ran his hand through his hair.

“I don't know…” you answered quietly, fiddling with your hands.

“Because I just wanted to fuck?” He spat.

You looked up at him, unsure of what to say. “I didn't think you'd ever actually want me because… I don't know what I'm doing. I'm inexperienced. I've never had sex before, Javi. And I don't want to lose it without building a relationship based on love first.” You whimpered, and briefly noticed a flash of surprise on his face. “And yes, not to be a bitch, but you really do have a reputation for getting around town…” you dropped your hands at your side with a sigh.

“I know,” he groaned. “I do, and I'm guilty of using sex as a coping mechanism. But I really am interested in you, cariño. And if you'd give me a chance, I'll go as slow as you want or need. I’ve spent so many nights trying to fuck away my emotions and it hasn't helped. But,” he ran his hand down his face before continuing. “The first time I saw you, it's like everything felt… easier when I was around you.”

He took a step towards you. “I tried to push the feelings aside, because truthfully it scared the shit out of me. I haven't had those feelings in a very long time, if ever. But pushing it away never worked with you.” He reached for your hand, and you took it.

_____ 

Ever since that moment, the two of you have been slowly developing a meaningful relationship. From your first date, to your first kiss, Javi has been nothing but sweet and patient. It wasn't until recently when you decided to let him take your virginity.

You were beyond nervous, especially upon seeing the size of him. But he was gentle and loving, making sure you were ready well before he entered you. You couldn't have asked for a nicer first time, or a sweeter man. 

But there was still one thing you hadn't tried yet that you had been itching to attempt.

It's something you had thought of before, while watching porn or daydreaming. A fantasy you considered while developing your feelings on Javi and imagining him. But when you finally saw his cock with your own eyes for the first time, it was like a spell spread over you and you wouldn't be able to expel it until you gave in to your desires.

So when Javi told you he'd be coming over to spend the weekend, you couldn't wait to play out your fantasy. 

_____

Javier opened the door to your apartment, using the key you gave him last month after you first exchanged I-Love-Yous. Dropping his bag on the kitchen bar, he strolled over to you, pulling you into a deep kiss, letting his hands graze over your ass with a squeeze. “Mi amor,” he whispered, nibbling your ear.

“Javi…” you replied breathlessly already. He pulled away, giving you a mischievous look with his raised brow. Sure, it wasn't uncommon for you to be putty in his hands, but he could tell something had gotten into you today.

“What's got you all worked up, querida?” He kissed your lips again, asking for entrance to your mouth, to which you obliged. “Cat got your tongue?” He practically purred, scraping his teeth against your tongue before gently biting your lip.

You moaned into his mouth before pulling away just enough to whisper. “I wanna try something, Javi…”

He kissed you deeper, then drew back to look into your eyes. “What do you want to try, mi paloma?” (My dove)

Based on his response, you could only imagine his mind was assuming you had chaste fantasies of kissing him in public, or sex in a slightly more adventurous position than the missionary you started with.

But for the first time, you surprised him when you whispered in his ear, “please, let me suck your dick, Javi.”

He froze, swallowing thickly, letting you see his Adam's apple bob. His eyes were wide as saucers. “You..” he stumbled over his words.

“Mmhm…”, you began to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt.

“You don't have to do that, cariño.” His tongue darted out over his lips, the surprise making his mouth dry.

“Please, Javi,” you whined. “I want to. I can't stop thinking about it. Especially after I saw you on our first night together. I want it so badly. Let me taste you. Let me please you.”

“Especially? You mean you had thought of it before we made love?” He asked, incredulous.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Ever since I saw you in those tight pants the first day we met,” you kissed his lips, finally unbuttoning the last button on his shirt before pulling it down his shoulders as the two of you stumbled into the bedroom.

“Fuck. Dirty girl,” he hissed, removing your shirt and kissing you, all the while wrapping his arms around your waist to seamlessly unhook your bra. His hands swept over your sides before returning to your chest to cup your breasts.

Javi’s kisses traced from your lips down to your neck before finally taking your nipple between his lips. He gently sucked on it, swirling his tongue around and giving gentle nibbles to your breasts. 

You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sliding them down just enough for his cock to release from the confines and bounce to attention. He was already hard and waiting, his tip drooling precum.

“Sit,” you told him, pushing down on his shoulder and directing him towards the edge of the bed.

“Sí, señorita,” he answered, easily caving to your demands and removing the rest of his pants from his legs. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he spread his thighs apart, giving you ample space to work with, his heavy cock bouncing against his torso with every movement.

Your mouth watered as you sank to your knees on the carpet and crawled over between his legs, the space you wished to live in. Running your hands up his thighs, you spread him even further.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, sending a wave of lust through Javi’s body before you spoke. “I've never done this before Javi. You may need to help guide me.”

Javi looked to the sky in silent praise as you turned your attention back to his waiting cock. You were now eye to eye with it, and slowly you moved your hand to wrap around his length. You gently pulled his foreskin down to reveal his most sensitive area, causing Javier to tremble at the contact. But it wasn't until you began to stroke him while placing a gentle kiss to his leaking tip that his body jerked forward in need. You gave a light lick, swirling your tongue around him before taking him in your mouth completely. 

The taste was new. His precum tasted salty and slightly sweet, but mostly you tasted clean skin and saliva. His scent is what really took over your senses. The natural scent that made your mouth water the first time you smelled him. The aroma that distinctly meant… Javi. 

He wore a cologne that made you swoon, kept strong enough to fill your nostrils, but not overpowering to be used in lieu of a shower. Javi always smelled nice. Clean and freshly shaved, he had a light scent of soap, aftershave, shaving cream, and men's deodorant. The lingering scent of shampoo. The sweet smell of nicotine and a whispered bite of alcohol. Leather from his jacket. The cool intensity of his mint toothpaste and gum that always seemed to nip at your nose when he spoke.

Even when he had just run across the city to chase a criminal, his sweat and musk drew you in like a feral animal. The way his pink shirt clung to his soaked back, chest, and arms; the way his wet hair fell onto his forehead. Your eyes wanted to live on his skin. As much as you tried to ignore Javi those first months of knowing each other, everything about him made you want to jump his bones. His persona oozed sexual appeal and that scared you. That made you want to run for the hills.

“Fuck me,” he sighed, head tilting back while his hips jerked upwards of their own accord. You removed your lips with a sucking pop and once again ran your hands over his thighs. You kept reaching, wrapping your arms around his back and grabbing the part of his ass that wasn't seated with a squeeze.

“Does this feel good, Javi?” You leaned in, licking the underside of his penis from the base to the head, stopping at the tight frenulum tissue and kissing, just like you would his lips.

“Fuck, yes, mierda, keep going,” Javi whined, jerking his hips forward, his tip brushing your waiting lips.

“Tell me how you want it, Javi,” you took the head in your mouth, licking and sucking.

“Just like that. Fuck. Swirl your tongue around,” he demanded.

You obliged, swirling your tongue around the head and finally the leaking tip, your lips still surrounding him. You sunk down further, taking more of him in your mouth and licking the veins on his underside as you slowly drifted further, his tip reaching the back of your throat.

“Fuck, yes,” Javi whimpered, babbling a string of curses as you began to work him in your mouth, up and down, your hand meeting the rhythm of your mouth. Saliva dropped from your mouth as you worked faster, Javier groaning in response. You went to wipe your chin with your other hand, only to have your wrist grabbed. “Leave it,” he hissed. “You look so fucking sexy like this, baby. Drunk on my cock, messy and blown out. Fuck, you're so good,” he rambled.

You smiled around his dick, continuing your movements and letting out a moan of your own pleasure. Finally you had him in your mouth and it was everything you imagined. This wouldn't be the last time, and you could hardly wait to taste his release.

Your hips jerked forward, pussy clenching on air, and you reached down with your other hand to rub frantic circles on your clit. Your eyes squeezed closed as you continued to play with both him and now yourself. Whimpers and moans fell from your lips and his, Javi lifting his head from the back of his neck to look down at you.

“Shit. Baby, are you touching yourself too? Pussy so desperate to be filled when my cock is in your mouth?” His voice rumbled, deep and primal, yet pained and desperate all the same.

“Mmhm,” you choked, trying to take him deeper than your throat would allow.

Javi reached out, cupping the back of your head as you took him as far as you could, stroking the rest of him with the hand not between your own legs. Your eyes squeezed tighter, tears brimming as you pushed too far again. “Gentle mi amor, you'll hurt yourself. Too big for that tight throat of yours,” he cooed, gripping your hair tighter. Saliva continued to drip from your mouth as you worked him faster, matching the rhythm with the hand on your clit. You inserted two fingers into your pussy, pumping a few times before alternating between your sensitive clit again.

Both Javi's and your hips jerked forward at their own accord, your bodies so desperate for release, you were both right on the cusp of teetering over the edge. Your moans and whimpers grew louder, Javi's curses continuing, yet the slick noise of wet skin from your mouth and hands prevailed as the loudest in the room. Squelching and sucking filled the air, an orchestra of filthy euphony.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby, where do you want it?” Javi strained to ask, tension lining his jaw.

You removed him just enough to reply, “my mouth, please, Javi, let me taste you.” Immediately you returned your attention to the task at hand.

“Shit,” he groaned as you pumped the length of his cock that didn't meet your lips. His hips jerked and release spilled onto your tongue, salty and sweet. With his climax, you fell over your pleasure point as well, body shaking and tensing, your thighs clenching around your fingers as you frantically rocked against the air. You let out a pained squeal around his cock as you came in your hand.

His hips began to slow, the last of his salty release dripping onto your tongue. With a final suck, you removed your mouth with a pop and opened your mouth for Javi. White, creamy release dripped from your tongue onto his thigh and quickly you closed your mouth with a giggle, swallowing him and licking the spilled cum from his leg.

Meeting your eyes with his, Javi looked absolutely wrecked, his eyes dark and hair disheveled. He panted, and despite having just finished, you could still see the fire of lust in his stare. You imagined you looked the same, drunk on his cock and his release, your own orgasm having just subsided as well. You were somehow still hungry for more, and it seemed you were never fully quenched with Javi around. You'd always want more, no matter how much he gave you.

Javi grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap to straddle him. Though he was softening under you, your hips still jerked at the contact. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep kiss.

You pulled away, looking at him a moment before asking “you don't mind kissing me after I just had your cum in my mouth?”

Javi looked at you as if you spoke another language before realizing you meant it. “Fuck no, baby that was the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I don't mind tasting myself on your tongue. Ever,” he kissed you again, deeper this time. His tongue swirled with yours and you tasted his cum and his saliva, his scent filled your nose, and his body encompassed yours. Everything around you was Javi.

“I don't mind tasting myself on your lips either,” you pulled away, whispering shyly before going in for another kiss.

Javi pecked your lips, pulling away and raising his brow. “Oh? No?” He teased you. Your cheeks heated and you began to look away, but he lifted your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “We can make that happen,” he growled, kissing your lips and picking you up from his lap. He manhandled you like a sack of flour, easily tossing you to the bed with ease as he settled between your legs, his mouth inches from your waiting pussy. 

“Ready for round two?” He smirked, nipping your thigh.

“Always, with you Javi,” you whined, and he dove in, pleasuring you the way you did him. 

You were never surprised at his sexual prowess, but once again you were pleasantly amazed at his level of care and love he devoted to you. You didn't regret waiting, though you were glad he was willing to wait with you. The new experiences with him just grew better and better with each day.

If you told yourself months ago that you would be in bed, in love, happily wrapped in the arms of Javier Peña, you would have laughed at the thought. But then again, life is full of surprises.

[welldonebeca]

Glitter and Goo (II)

Summary: When you have to go on a mission to a different planet together, Bucky is hit by a mating ritual flower, and some feelings you two have been hiding come up. AKA: It’s a sex pollen fic with a side of breeding kink. WC: 1.8k words Warnings: Romantic tension. Fluff. Dirty talking. Sex promises.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

Masterlist

You fixed yourself dinner, lemonade forgotten, barely processing the taste of the food as you watched the way in front of you.

Space was beautiful. It was so strange to see those stars so clearly.

Yet, it was so scary sometimes.

You got something ready for Bucky too, saving it for when he'd wake up, putting some music on before moving off to work on the research of the element already.

It was maybe two or three hours later that the sound of a phone call got your attention.

"FRIDAY, pick up," you asked.

The sound stopped for a moment, and you took your gloves off.

"Doctor Sparkles," Tony greeted. "Got time to talk?"

You scoffed at the silly nickname.

"What's up?"

"That sparkly thing you sent over," he told you. "Thor said it's pollen."

You rolled your eyes.

"No shit, Sherlock," you shifted to the other side, where you'd been working on the pollen. "I gave it a look under the microscope, but I'm not exactly good at alien biology."

It just looked sparkly. Sparkly pollen, that was it.

"Anything on the goo?" you asked him. "It dried really fast, I didn't have time to take a second sample to look into it myself."

Maybe you could cut some of the fabric of Bucky's clothes. Even if it had dried, it could have left something there.

"We got someone smart looking into the one too," he told you. "Are they from the same plant?"

"Yep," you crossed your arms. "A flower exploded on Bucky. He got really grumpy about it."

There was silence on the other side.

"It exploded?" Tony asked. "Like... what?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Like a flower explosion, Tony," you told him. "What else can it mean?"

More silence.

"I gotta check something," he decided. "Are you going anywhere?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about visiting Pluto," you sassed back. "I heard it is really pretty this time of the year."

A sound caught your attention for a moment, and you looked in the direction of the dorm.

Had Bucky woken up.

"It's not worth it," Tony told you. "I'll be back in a minute."

He hung up, leaving you to scoff. It wasn't like you had anything else to do, anyway.

"Ma'am?" FRIDAY called. "Agent Barnes is behaving strangely."

That made you stiffen up.

What?

"Define strangely?"

The damn pollen.

You pulled up a tranquillizer from the side of your table.

If it had made him violent, it was best not to even get close to him.

"He has broken his bed, ma'am," the system told you. "And... I believe he's trying to copulate with your pillow."

He was...

"What?" you shouted back. "What do you mean, he's trying-"

But another call came through again.

"It's Tony, ma'am," it told you.

You grunted, covering your face with a hand.

"Pick it up," you cocked the tranquilliser. "Tony, tell me you have good news, because I think I have a problem."

"I do," he told you. "And it isn't venomous."

You sighed. Good, at least that.

"The flower that Bucky might have encountered is part of the mating rituals of-"

"Quick answer," you interrupted him, worry already filling you. "I don't have time for the sociology lesson."

He snorted a bit.

"It's a sex flower," he told you. "It makes you horny for your mate and facilitate reproduction of a highly infertile-"

You blinked, shocked.

"Wait, it's a sex pollen?" you asked. "Tony, this isn't funny!"

Where had he gotten that explanation from? Someone's fanfiction story?!

But he laughed on the other side.

"Except that it is!" he corrected you. "It enhances romantic and sexual attraction towards one's mate-"

"Mate?"

Was he talking about animals?

"It is actually highly sought after by some Asgardians struggling with their fertility," Thor spoke on the other side. "It quickens up the production of eggs and sperm to ensure reproduction."

You had to pinch yourself to react, still shocked.

What the fuck?

"And how does that affect humans?" you asked.

You were met by a bit of a hum.

"We don't have many answers on that," Tony answered at last. "But probably the same as Asgardians?"

"If so, there's nothing to worry about," Thor assured you, not sounding worried at all. "It only hits those who are actively around their partners."

You glanced back at the dorm. Well, that didn't sound very right.

"Partners?" you asked. "Like boyfriends and girlfriends? Wives, husbands, spouses...?"

He confirmed with a hum.

"Yeah. People who we have strong romantic and sexual feelings for, a bit more than just passion," he told you. "Bucky will be just fine."

"Ma'am," FRIDAY called. "Agent Barnes has dented the wall with a punch. I believe the door can only resist another five of those before breaking, unless you activate quarantine mode."

That didn't seem to go over Tony.

"Wait, what?" he asked. "Why is he punching the ship?"

You stood up quickly.

"I gotta go check on him," you decided. "Thor, is there a chance he... might..."

Hurt you.

His voice was tainted with worry when he answered.

"Violence is unlikely," he told you. "Unless you try to keep someone away from their mate."

You exhaled slowly, trying to calm your racing heart.

Holy shit.

"Okay," you spoke slowly. "I'll call you back if I need anything else."

"Wait, what?" Tony gasped back. "Where are you going?"

But you pressed the screen near your station, hanging up.

You could hear grunts when you walked near the dorm and jumped in shock when you heard Bucky's fist against the door again.

"James!" you shouted. "What are you doing?"

He stopped.

"Y/N?" Bucky called suddenly, half whimpering. "Where are you?"

You neared the closed door.

"How are you feeling?" you asked, instead. "Are you alright?"

He knocked on the door, a little weaker.

"Please," Bucky begged. "I need you."

You swallowed down, eyeing the door, worried.

Was he going mad with lust?

"Please," he cried.

Heat pooled in your belly, a soft smell making your face warm.

Was that him?

He smelt so good.

"Please?" Bucky insisted.

You stopped your tranquilliser slowly, walking near the door, but when you tried to open it, it was locked.

"FRIDAY," you called. "Open the door."

There was a moment of hesitance.

"Are you sure, doctor?" the system asked. "It's still possible to put Agent Barnes in quarantine. It's only 36 hours until we arrive back home."

You shook your head. No, you wouldn't leave him alone.

"Open the door," you commanded once more. "Don't ask me again."

The sound of the locks moving was loud, and you opened the door slowly when you found it unlocked.

James didn't move when you stepped inside, just far enough from the door that you walked in easily.

His face was so flushed, and he was drenched in sweat.

You reached for him slowly, touching him gently on his cheeks, and he exhaled, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Where were you?" Bucky panted, sounding so sweet and yet so needy, his hands moving to cover yours. "Where had you gone?"

It broke your heard to hear him like that, so lost. You had left alone!

He watched you with his bright blue eyes so soft, and it was as if he hadn't been slamming the door moments ago.

"I'm sorry," you caressed his skin. "I was making dinner. Aren't you hungry?"

Bucky shook his head, hand moving down slowly, touching your body gently. First your waist, wrapping his arm around you so slowly that you knew you could step away and stop him any time you wanted.

He put his head in your neck, sniffing you, nuzzling into you as if you were the most precious thing he didn't want to let go.

You shivered when you felt him sniffing you, pressing close to you, his body hot.

His big hand travelled down a bit, near your hip.

"Hungry," he mumbled into your neck, licking your skin.

Bucky's fingers searched around your jumpsuit on your back, tugging on your jacket and your utility belt.

"Smell good," he whimpered. "Can smell you..."

You sighed out.

"Smell me?" you squirmed.

You could smell him good. It was so good.

"Smell you wet," Bucky hissed, unhooking your belt and throwing it away. “Smell your skin… wanna bury my head in your tits, find your sweet smell in them.”

You gasped, surprised.

"Bucky! Something could break!"

He tugged on your vest, lips travelling up and down your neck, and if he was that insistent there, you couldn't help imagining what he'd do if he put himself between your legs.

"Want to break you," he took his hands to your belly and pulling on the clasps of your best, nearly breaking them. "Make you mine. No one else will have you."

What?

He wasn't speaking any tense.

Bucky threw it away, grabbing the front zip of your suit and tearing it.

“Bucky!”

Did he know how hard it was to get a jumpsuit that fit your tits? They were too fucking big for most of them, you had to get a bigger size and adjust the rest of your body!

Still, you couldn’t complain as his big hand pushed into your clothes, grabbing your chest, squeezing your breast over your bra.

"No one else can have you," Bucky babbled. "You're mine."

Bucky took your clothes off so quickly you barely saw it, and he picked you up, laying you on the bed.

For a moment, you thought he would take you just like that, but he took off his clothes before moving and kneeling in front of the bed, looking at your face with such a soft pleading look on his face.

"Please?" he whispered. "Can I have you? Please?"

You swallowed down, leaning onto your elbows.

His mattress was practically on the floor, the legs broken, and it would be so easy for him to just crawl to you.

"Want to give you my babies," Bucky pleaded with you. "Want to be yours, please."

You swallowed down, breathing in deep. Oh, how good he smelt. You had to fight yourself not to bury your face into his neck and sniff him.

The flower... it had to do with mating rituals, wasn't it?

"What are you going to do?" you asked him.

Bucky swallowed down.

"I want to make you feel good," he promised. "I'll treasure you, I'll never let you go."

You pressed your thighs together, a bit warm between them.

His fingers clenched by his sides.

"I'll fill you up," Bucky promised. "You're so empty, aren't you? I'll give you everything!"

You swallowed down again, feeling your pussy clenching at the idea.

His babies. He was going to give you his babies, right?

Your eyes travelled down his body to his cock, and it was so hard. There was so much precum.

Oh, he was going to fill you up, right?! Give you his cum!

Bucky was going to breed you.

You nodded, sitting up.

"Please," you tried to grab his hand. "Please, Bucky."

…

“Glitter and Goo” was first posted on my Patreon on April 2023. To read it now, subscribe to my page, it’s just $2 a month and I post 6x a week.

. . .

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Glitter and Goo: @art2emily

[plussizefantasia]

More Body, More Money

Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

warnings: Allusion to smut towards the end, references to a female body and that body being bigger

an: holy shit sorry for disappearing for so long. I make no promises as to when I'll come back as I seem to have a habit of breaking those. I've been in a Bridgerton mood recently though and typed this on my phone in like an hour so no promises that it's all that good. I will say though that I've been working on a request recently and it's currently at 4k and counting which is by far the longest fic I've ever written and I'm not even to the good part yet. I've also finished outlining the rest of the parts for my Kili x reader fic. I think that's it though, thanks for reading this far if you did and for putting up with my bs.

“Darling, could you come here a moment?” Your husband called from his desk. Recently you had taken to reading while lounging on the couch in his study. It was a great way to spend time with your busy husband while also letting him get his work done. 

You didn’t exactly know what he was working on at the moment but apparently, your presence was needed to solve whatever issue he had stumbled upon. It wasn’t until you got closer to his desk that you noticed the receipts and ledgers sprawled across his desk. He was updating the families' books and tracking the spending that you and the rest of his family had done that month. 

“Yes, my love?” You moved to rest your hand on his back and traced it across his shoulders and on his neck. It was as if you two were magnets, unable to keep apart for very long. If you were close enough then you would feel your hands gravitating towards him. And if the way his arm moved to rest on your back as well, he had the same urges when in proximity to you. 

“I’ve noticed something odd in the charges from the modiste.” Anthony handed you the papers. Both you and Eloise had gone to the modiste at the beginning of the month to be fitted for some new gowns to prepare for her second season in the marriage mart and your first season as the Viscountess. 

“I’ll admit to not being the most knowledgeable about gowns and other frivolities my love, but is it normal for the cost difference to be this large? I mean when Ben and I get new suits the price is almost always similar.” He pointed to the two prices listed on the bill from Madame Delacroix. 

You didn’t know how to respond to this, you knew the reason behind the price difference between yours and Elioises dresses, of course, it was something that you had thought of already. After all, it was the same reason that your younger sister always got more gowns than you every season that the two of you attended growing up. You were larger, and as the modiste you had gone to grow up with had said “More body means more fabric means more money.” more money that your father had deemed unnecessary so you had only ever gotten one or two new dresses while your sister would be fitted for five or six of the newest and most flattering styles.

But how could you explain this to Anthony? That your dresses cost more than his sisters because you were bigger, and that meant more money.

You knew Anthony loved your body, he worshiped it often in fact but there was a difference between getting lost in the softness of your embrace and seeing the real-life sometimes the financial consequences of living in a bigger body.

“Oh, Anthony, it is uh- just a matter of resources I suppose.” 

He raised a brow at you. “I’m not sure I understand. What do you mean by resources?”

“Well dear husband, you and your brother are very similar in height and build which means the two of you have very similar resource usage, whereas myself and your sister are quite different in the… resource usage department.”

“My love, I need you to speak to me as if I am an idiot.” 

You deeply sighed and prepared yourself to have the conversation that you had been trying and failing to get out of. “Eloise is small, therefore it does not take as much fabric to make her dresses, whereas I am quite well endowed and my dresses require more material. More body means more fabric means more money it is as simple as that.” 

“That is preposterous, are you both not getting dresses?” His tone was getting more defensive, and it warmed your heart to know that he was willing to get upset at the simple fact that Madame Delacroix had charged you more because your dress was bigger. You had expected him to be embarrassed, and deep down somewhat afraid that he would realize that he had signed himself up for these extra expenses for the rest of his life by marrying you. 

“Well darling, think about it, would you expect to pay the same amount for a child as you would for yourself? Do you not pay more for your suits than you do Greg’s?”

“No, I see your point darling.”

“That is all this is my love, different sizes of clothing cost different amounts. If it is a problem I can just see about getting some of my old gowns altered to make them somewhat nicer for the new season, that way you would not have to spend as much.”

“What? No. Darling, this is not about the money, I was merely worried that that woman had tried to take advantage of you, charging you far more than Eloise for the same thing. I couldn’t care less about the money. In fact, I think you should get ten more gowns made, show everyone in the Ton that I am married to the most voluptuous, sensual, and desirable woman in the world.” He pulled you closer to him so that you were standing in between his spread knees, you still standing over him as he leaned back in his chair.

Anthony began training kisses up and down the arm that he had grasped within his hand. Turning your wrist over so that he could place one at the center of your palm. 

“I do not need ten new gowns, Anthony, that is far too much.” You giggled and protested, feeling more enamored with the man you married with every word out of his mouth.

“Perhaps I shall buy you ten diamond necklaces then so that I can have an excuse to stare at your chest as often as I’d like.” You snorted and gently smacked the back of his head. “Anthony Bridgerton, that is scandalous talk and you know it.”

“Nothing is scandalous between husband and wife, especially when the two are alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and lifted the corners of his lips into a sultry grin, one that had your knees feeling weaker by the second. 

“All I really need, dear husband, is you.”

A smile that you could only consider adoring spread across your husband's face.

“And I you, my love.”

“No Anthony, I need you.”

His grin turned to a full-blown smirk spreading across his face, “Well, what the Viscountess needs she gets…” 

;)

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

Just For Research

Pairing: Professor! Rick Sanchez x College Student! GN! Reader.

Summary: When Rick discovers his top student is a virgin, he knows he must change that so she can write her paper on human pheromones.

Warnings: Smut, Intercourse (P in ?), Virginity Loss, Teacher x Student relationship, Age Gap, Virgin! Reader.

Writing Time: 30 minutes.

Word Count: 652.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 7.

A/N:

Woke up in the middle of the night and decided to just write this. Sorry for any mistakes, this is not proofread. I'm just really trying to make sure everything is written before October arrives so the quality is some fics might be lacking a little, this might be one of them. This is probably my shortest fic so far. Oh well.I also have completely forgotten what it was like in college. I did about 3 months of Combined Science in the UK before I dropped out for an apprenticeship instead and I don't remember anything about those 3 months. So this could be all completely wrong but tbh I really don't care.I tried really hard to keep it GN, which is getting harder and harder for me due to the lack of gender neutral terms in the English language but I'll keep managing.Hope you enjoy, I've been eager to write something for Rick for ages now.

Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober works.

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Thoughts were swarming your head, making it almost impossible to think about what was currently happening.

'How did this happen?' You thought, 'This couldn't of been an accident, but how then did it happen?'

You let out a torn scream, but Rick was fast to cover your mouth and silence it.

"Shut up little Whore, or the whole building will hear you." He huffed.

Just a second ago you and Rick was discussing your college assignment. Your assignment was to write an essay about the human and animal pheromones that tell them to breed and compare the two. Something fairly basic for a Combined Science class and as the class's top student, Rick expected this assignment to be a breeze for you.

But he had been wrong. For a top student with a bright future in Science, you had no idea about pheromones. Especially the sexual kind. It was the one thing you hadn't studied yourself in your own time nor had you experienced it.

You had come to Rick after class to hopefully explain the subject better for you or give you good resources to look up but once Rick found out you was a virgin, what you got instead was a private lessons on pheromones that included an experimental or practical that would give you the experience.

So now you were bent over his desk taking all of him like the good little one you was.

"Please..." You whimpered, tired and stretched out to the max. It had only been a few minutes but this was completely new to a virgin.

"Please what, Whore?" Rick glared down at you, still thrusting in and out of you at an ungodly pace.

Rick didn't think this was exactly the best way to show someone who had never experienced sexual feelings what they were like, but to be honest, he didn't care. He was just looking for a reason to fuck you. His prettiest most innocent and intelligent little Princess/Prince who always sat in the front row, listening to him with wide ears.

But this had been a good lesson for you. Your sexual desire and need for Professor Sanchez now more than alive, it was insatiable.

"Please more Sir!" You cried.

Rick was a little shocked, but more than happy to oblige. And quickly increased his speed, you looked down and moaned into the once clean desk.

"Yeah? You like this cock? You want more of it, my little cocksleeve?" Rick groaned into your ears.

"Yes!" You nodded eagerly.

Obviously, you came first. You did so with a scream and giant smile. Rick came not too long after you onto your back, with just a few loud grunt.

You was pretty confident now you was gonna Ace this assignment.

[stellamancer]

obligatory (satoru gojo x reader)

notes: haha. the valentine's fic. it's funny i still have to post halloween fic. maybe i'll finish this week since i'm off work. uh anyway, for those who say my posts, i'm kind of hesitant to post this for two reasons: 1) it's removed from context— like you can still get a feel of what is going on, but there's no explanation as for why and 2) due to reason 1 it's tonally different than usual, at least according to my beta reader. my eternal gratitude goes to @momodita who helped me workshop this fic and continues to demand i write more gojo fics despite denying being a gojo fucker.

contains: implied f!reader (no pronouns), the return of gojo's pov (a little less whacky this time lmao), jealous gojo (because those who know me know i can't get enough), light angst or whatever the hell is going on there. additionally, for those who don't know giri choco is chocolate you give out of obligation to your coworkers and honmei choco is chocolate you give to someone you have romantic feelings for. part of the infinite loop verse.

wc: 1.8k

“Here you go.”

Satoru graciously accepts Shoko’s offering: a thin, delicately wrapped box of Valentine’s Day chocolate. Naturally, it's giri choco; Satoru is well aware that Shoko would be caught dead before even thinking about giving Satoru honmei choco. That said, it looks like she's given more thought to her gift this year— the last few years she's just handed him a gourmet chocolate bar from some high end chocolatier. Actually, the last time she'd given him something wrapped up like this was…

“There better not be any liquor in this,” Satoru says in a petulant tone reminiscent of his high school days.

Shoko merely laughs. “As if I'd waste something like that on you.”

There's no way she’s forgotten how sick Satoru got the one time she did give him liquor filled chocolates. Not only had it made him sick to his stomach, it'd given him the worst headache of his entire life. If it were up to Satoru, liquor filled chocolates wouldn't even exist. “Welllll, thanks for the chocolate. I'll be sure to get you something good next month.”

Shoko gives him a relaxed smile. “Looking forward to it, Gojo.”

Knowing Shoko, she'll want liquor as usual. Maybe the same bottle of shochu that he got last year? She liked that, but then again, the same gift twice would be boring and Satoru is not about that. Whatever it is will be a little pricey, but Satoru doesn't mind it one bit— anything for one of his oldest friends.

Having given Satoru her yearly offering of chocolate, Shoko shoos him away so she can actually get to work. Satoru considers ambling around for another hour or two, but Ijichi will probably have a heart attack if he delays his mission briefing any longer. The sooner he does it the better, he guesses. Satoru starts sauntering toward the assistant managers’ office to find Ijichi, pulling at the ribbon on the box he received from Shoko as he goes. Inside are two rows of perfectly round chocolate truffles and Satoru picks one at random and pops it into his mouth. It's filled with a sweet raspberry cream that practically melts on his tongue. Shoko really went all out this year, but no matter how good these are they'd never match up to anything homemade.

Though, when he thinks about it, Satoru supposes he won't be getting anything like that this year.

When he gets to the assistant managers’ office he easily finds Ijichi, who, for once, is not bent over a mountain of paperwork, and with him is—

You.

Handing Ijichi a box of chocolates.

For some reason, Satoru suddenly feels very, very annoyed.

“Well, well, well,” he says, the volume of his voice louder than intended, but he doesn't care. “What do we have here?”

Ijichi whirls around and lets out a squeak, his face red as can be. He starts to blubber and it almost feels like Satoru's caught him in the middle of something more illicit than receiving chocolates. If Satoru weren't feeling so annoyed, he'd find the whole sight rather funny.

You, on the other hand, are far calmer, indifferent even, as a slight frown mars your features. Something about it makes Satoru's blood burn hot.

“Did I just interrupt a heartfelt love confession?” Satoru asks dryly and Ijichi starts to freak out even more, and while Satoru notices the slightest twitch of your eye, you remain impassive.

“I hope you like the chocolates,” you tell Ijichi, outright ignoring Satoru and somehow that makes Satoru's blood run even hotter. “I kept in mind what you said about last year's so they're not as sweet.”

“Thank you!” Ijichi squeals and you give the man a sympathetic smile before you head toward the door where Satoru's standing. He knows he's blocking the way, but he doesn't move.

Will you say something to him?

You don't.

Instead, you keep your head down and squeeze past him. Or try to. You brush against his side and Satoru doesn't miss the way your body jolts when you make physical contact with him. But it only lasts a second, and when that second ends, Satoru tries to ignore the feeling of bitterness rapidly spreading throughout his chest.

He means to say something, anything to you, but the words get caught in his throat.

By the time they free themselves, you're already gone.

Satoru sighs and saunters over to Ijichi, who's been taking deep breaths to calm down after Satoru's little bout of teasing. He leans against one of the desks and crosses his arms. “So, you had a mission for me?”

“Right! Yes!” Ijichi squeaks again and takes a deep breath before he starts to explain. Satoru only half listens to the briefing, his attention more focused on the little box sitting on Ijichi’s desk. The mere sight of it spurs a complicated set of feelings. He doesn't understand. You've been giving Ijichi chocolates every Valentine's ever since you moved to Tokyo and it's never bothered him before so why now?

“Um, Gojo?”

“What?” Satoru almost snaps.

Ijichi doesn't answer right away, instead he clears his throat and then says. “It's giri choco.”

Satoru scowls. Of course it is. It's not like you'd give Ijichi honmei choco. You don't see him like that. “I know that.”

Ijichi swallows thickly. Nervously. “Just making sure.”

Then he falls silent, the air between them now terribly awkward.

“...do you want some?” Ijichi asks.

“It's your chocolate.”

“I don't mind sharing,” Ijichi says, reaching over and opening the box to reveal your homemade chocolates. They're nowhere near as perfectly round as the ones Shoko bought for Satoru, but he can tell you put effort into making sure they looked presentable. “Help yourself.”

Even Satoru isn't terrible enough to steal an entire box of chocolates meant for another man, but he does grab the nicest looking one and tosses it into his mouth.

It's bitter; a mix of dark chocolate and black coffee that's not only completely unpalatable to Satoru, but disturbingly reminiscent of the bitter feeling that's now threatening to eat him whole. He almost wants to spit it out.

But he doesn't.

Satoru swallows it all.

The mission is uneventful, absurdly easy even, though Satoru took a little longer than he needed to by toying with the curses a little prior to exorcising them. Some would consider it a touch cruel, but Satoru doesn't care. Anything to rid himself of that pesky feeling from earlier.

If it were up to him, he would have headed straight home afterwards, but Yaga had asked him to come back and do some paperwork. Satoru had tried to reason with him, tell him he'd just do it tomorrow but the principal was insistent.

Satoru trudges to his office and throws open the door. Inside, someone lets out a surprised yelp.

It’s you.

Again.

Both you and Satoru stare at each other in surprise. Given that you've been avoiding both him and this entire corridor like the plague for the past two months, you're the last person he’d expect to find in his office, hovering over his desk. And yet…

You look away from Satoru, your expression awkward. This isn't like your encounter in the assistant manager's office earlier; you can't just walk out of his office without an explanation of why you're there.

Well, you can try, but it's not like Satoru will let you.

“Weren’t you supposed to be out on an assignment?” you finally ask. Satoru thinks you mean to sound annoyed, but your tone is watered down.

“I was, but it was so easy I could have done it blindfolded.”

Normally, you'd just roll your eyes or snap back about how he's a show off or his jokes are shit, but you remain quiet. He shouldn't be surprised, but it still makes him feel weird. Almost sad. Almost empty.

“Principal Yaga asked me to leave some paperwork on your desk,” you say, sounding uncharacteristically meek.

Satoru frowns a little. Yaga, huh? He never pegged him as a meddler. Satoru approaches the desk to look at the paperwork in question; he grimaces— it's a whole freaking stack.

You start to shuffle away from Satoru and toward the door as Satoru flips through all the papers. “Anyway, if you'll excuse me—”

“Wait a sec.” Satoru says and you glance back at him in confusion. There's something peeking out from under the stack of papers. Satoru gingerly fishes it out, revealing a familiar looking box. He holds it up and adds, “Did you leave this too?”

A myriad of varying emotions flashes across your face before you settle on an awkward sort of embarrassment. “I… did.”

It's weird. Satoru didn't expect you to be so straightforward given that under normal circumstances you always choose to be as obstinate as possible. Which Satoru doesn't mind in the slightest; it makes things exciting. There are few things more fun than prying the truth out of you with whatever means necessary. Answering him so readily like this… almost feels wrong.

“I accidentally made too much,” you explain.

Satoru stares at you. It’s not an excuse, not a lie. Honestly, adjusting the amounts to account for one less person probably slipped your mind until it was too late. You could have done anything with the extra chocolate, given more to each person, eaten it for yourself, but instead…

You still chose to give it to him.

Satoru tries to ignore the strange feeling stirring in his chest.

“Anyway, eat it if you want, toss it if you don’t,” you add, almost hurriedly as you move closer to the door. You give a quick bow to excuse yourself and before Satoru can say anything else, you run off.

His eyes remain glued to the empty doorway where you were just standing for a second before looking back at the box of chocolates you left for him. Carefully, he unties the ribbon and pulls off the lid. Just like Ijichi’s chocolates, the ones in his box aren’t perfect, but something about them looks nicer than the ones Ijichi got. Satoru wonders if you consciously put in a little more effort when you’d realized you had extra. The thought makes him chuckle a little.

He delicately plucks one from the box and pops it into his mouth. It’s sweet, infused with a hint of strawberry and vanilla that makes Satoru crave even more. As soon as he’s done with the first he shoves another into his mouth, and then another. With each chocolate he eats, the painful feeling in his chest grows, but he ignores it.

Before he knows it, the chocolates are all gone. Satoru licks his lips, hoping for one last taste of that strawberry vanilla sweetness only to find nothing. All he has left is the empty box and an aching heart.

if you read this whole thing, thank you and i hope you enjoyed it.

also yes, shoko got chocolates (tomo choco) too. they were similar to ijichi's, but with liquor instead of coffee.

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 11

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pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n getting kicked out my house this week, got a new job, blah de blah. here's a chapter. oh, and a shameless self promotion, go read my skzflix fic leave? pretty please? it aint my finest work but i promise it's good?

previous | masterlist | next

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The door is already open when you arrive, inviting you inside. Like someone had known exactly when you'd gotten in the elevator, or sensed the moment you stepped foot in their hallway. Or this was just how they lived, the door open to invite each other in and out, though that didn't seem likely. You shut it behind you when you enter anyway, the creak and slam of the heavy door loud enough to alert the occupants of the apartment to your presence.

The sound of Changbin shouting over someone follows, drowning out the noise of the door. Everything is normal, then. 

The short hall by the front door is empty except for a pile of scattered shoes - you add yours to the line as you pass through, glimpsing a group of the boys sitting on a couch at the other end. It feels weird to stand there and see them at the other end, the way they've been for years before you came; your empty hands feel awkward, and your feet are too soft against their floorboards, and the closer you get, the more rowdy they become, their eyes so fixed to some game they're playing on the TV that they don't even notice you slipping into the room. You pause for a moment, listening to them howl as their game characters slip off the screen, and then continue on your way to the kitchen, your fingers twisting together restlessly before you.

Chan and Minho are there, sequestered away from the chaos erupting in the other room while they move between the benchtop and the stove, avoiding each other in a way that seems practised. The air is filled with the smell of food cooking, the steam rising from the bubbling pot on the stove warming the air in the small kitchen. Chan turns as he sees you out of the corner of his eye, smiles, and then points back towards the other boys.

"Out," he says, in a voice that brooks no argument; and you'd almost think that you'd broken some rule, except for the grin that eats at his face, amused at himself without even trying.

You stop in the doorway, hovering between the two groups. "I was just going to see if you needed any help," you say.

"Nope," he answers. "You're not allowed in here. Go and sit down."

You pull a face, one that must be funny if Minho glances away, a smile struggling to break through the blank face he's trying to pull. "I already physically kicked Felix out of here," Chan adds, a wooden spoon brandished in the air in warning. "I'll do it to you too."

Your hands come up, your feet backing out of the doorway, and yet, you can't help but laugh. You're feeling...relaxed, here, in a way you haven't since leaving Midnight those two months ago. Maybe it's because you'd spent those months grinding away at what seemed like an insurmountable hill of work, maybe because in the last week, the days that had passed since you'd walked home with Han and Chan, things had suddenly become easier within this group. The reason doesn't matter, you suppose, only that you know now that he's joking, and that it's something you can laugh at. That he's included you in the same joke he's used on Felix.

"Hey, hey, hey," a voice says behind you. "Watch where you're going. You have enough trouble walking forwards."

You turn on your heel, already rolling your eyes at the shit-eating grin on Seungmin's face. Funny, how easy it  to fall into cameraderie with him once you've broken the ice between you; only a day ago, it'd still felt like you weren't much more than acquaintances, until you'd made the decision to fall over on the way to their shared vocal lesson, the only thing Seungmin had ever reached out to offer to you.

Well, made the decision is a stretch. Falling over is too. You'd only stumbled over the sidewalk, and you certainly hadn't planned to make a fool of yourself. Maybe the story that Seungmin was selling was so convincing it was starting to affect your memory. He wasn't mean about it at least, for all that he was known to pretend to be mean when the opportunity arose; if anything, the last few hours of him spreading increasingly wild tales and the others relaying them back to you had been fun. Something different than the usual grind of your days, a joke that might stick around longer than the few minutes in which it's being laughed at.

In this moment, you stand up a little bit straighter and hope that your cheeks don't turn red. "I'm great at walking," you posture, and then struggle not to laugh at how preposturous you sound, your lips fighting against you as they curve into a smile. Something to work on, maybe, if you wanted to compete with his and Minho's deadpan humour. 

"Except for the part where you hit the concrete," Seungmin says, unaffected by the way your eyes crease and your mouth splits in two. "Then you're really bad at walking."

"I tripped," you insist, and you move forward as if to slide past him to get to the couch that the others sit on. He falls in beside you without hesitation rather than letting you pass by, a ghost at your side. "I wasn't even close to falling."

"Everyone says that you fell though," Seungmin insists. "You think everyone would lie?"

"I think you would lie when you told everyone else the story."

Grinning, Seungmin strides out in front of you, leading the way around the couch so that he can stand right in front of the TV. "Move up," he tells Felix, who sits at the end of the couch, neck craned to watch the game the others are playing around Seungmin. 

His eyes slide from Seungmin to you, trying your best to stay out of the way despite having been dragged into mischief. "Y/N," he says, shifting over and patting the seat next to him. "You wanna sit here?"

A smile spreads out across your face. "I do," you reply, and slide past Seungmin to fit yourself in the small space he manages to make beside him. "Thanks."

"You said you would save my seat," Seungmin says, pointing a finger at Felix, who waves him out of the way. He sits on the arm of the chair instead, balancing precariously as he pulls out his phone.

"They kicked you out of the kitchen as well?" Felix asks sympathetically, one eye on the TV and the other on you.

You nod. "I was just going to see if they needed help."

"Yeah," Felix sighs. "I'm not even bad at cooking."

"I'm banned from the knives," Seungmin puts in without looking up.

You glance at him, staring intently at his phone. "Why isn't that surprising?" you question.

"Because he's Seungmin," Felix puts in. "Same way I know he's lying about seeing you fall over."

Seungmin sighs. "I didn't fall," you say, before he can decide which lie to seed this time. "I tripped. I didn't fall."

"It's no fun if none of you believe me," Seungmin grouses.

The game on the TV finishes with a fanfare that fills the whole room, drowned out only by the racous cries of cheating from the boys playing it. The sound makes you wince, leaning away from them; Felix's hands come up to cover his ears, his cry for help also disappearing under the noise they make. You wouldn't be surprised if the neighbours were doing the same thing, or marching towards their door with pitchforks in hand. How do they even have neighbours, when they're capable of noise like that?

"They're going to get complaints again," Seungmin says, like he'd been reading your mind. 

"Hey, hey! Hey!" a voice calls over the noise, and you turn in unison to see Chan's head poking out of the door, the wooden spoon waving in his hand once again. "No yelling!"

"I'd say he looks like he's our dad, but he just kind of looks unhinged," Felix comments, only his eyes and the blonde hair that tufts up on top of his head peeking up over the back of the couch. The rest of him has slid down out of Chan's sight, like if he hides, he won't get caught up in whatever trouble the others are causing.

"He looks like my grandfather," Seungmin adds as the older boy disappears, making no effort to hide at all. "He was crazy too."

Felix grins, wild and wolfish. "He just keeps getting older."

"It's so sad he's going to die so soon," Seungmin agrees.

The noise dies down, the game switched back to a more neutral home screen as boys wander off this way and that. Felix shifts over, enough that you can give Seungmin a space on the couch - you think, for a moment, about making him go around to the other side, but Changbin is still sitting there, looking peacefully unbothered by whatever chaos Seungmin is surely capable of unleashing and it's much easier to just shift over and let him slump down in the corner than to set him off. It disturbs Changbin anyway, somehow; as Seungmin sits down, he sits up straight, leaning around Felix to look at you.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, drawing your attention over to him. "Where were you this morning? I didn't see you in the practise rooms."

"She left the room?" Felix questions, turning to stare at you like such a thing is unheard of.

"I was there for three hours," Changbin confirms, "and I didn't see her at all."

"I was tired," you say, trying to ignore the feeling of your cheeks turning red, "so I slept in. And I left the room twice today, actually. I went to a vocal lesson with him."

Seungmin nods as your thumb jabs towards him. "She won't be dancing tomorrow either. She fell over on the concrete."

You don't even think twice about reaching over to push him off the couch. It catches him so off-guard that he actually does fall, sliding right onto the carpet and staring up at you in disbelief. The other boys howl with laughter, loud enough that you glance back at the kitchen door to check if Chan is coming back.

"I'm glad you took the morning off," Felix says warmly, ignoring whatever Seungmin mutters under his breath as he drags himself up off the floor. "We've all been worried about you."

"So I've been told," you say. "I promise, I know what I'm doing."

"I trust you," Felix says, and there's a glint in his eye that says he's telling the truth. It warms you to your core, just as sitting here surrounded by these boys does, and the sound of Minho's voice calling for Seungmin from the kitchen. It's nice, to come into the middle of their group away from the stage or the dance floor and feel like you're just in the midst of friends, somewhere where you belong. It's nice to see how they live. You hadn't let yourself see this before, too tied down to practise and the dream they've achieved that you're still chasing.

"Seungmin-ah! Come and help!" Minho calls again, and then he can be seen at the door, waiting with an unnerving kind of patience. You're not sure if the smile on his face is supposed to be encouraging or threatening, and you don't really want to find out; mostly, you're just kind of glad that he's not calling for you.

Seungmin isn't bothered by it, dragging himself off the couch with a sigh that reverberates through the room. "Coming, old man," he calls across the room, and ignores the double take that Felix does beside you, his eyes growing wide. 

"Ai-e," Changbin says, the sound whistling through his teeth. "Is he crazy?"

"You want to go in the oven?" Minho questions as Seungmin crosses the room.

"You'd have to get me in it first," Seungmin says, and then yelps as Minho's arm wraps around his neck, dragging him into the kitchen in a headlock. 

"He's going to die," Felix says gleefully. 

"Winning the bet was not worth it," you agree, your eyes still on the empty doorway to the kitchen. No one emerges except Chan, holding a pot of whatever they've cooked for dinner and looking disturbingly peaceful despite the chaos he has just left behind.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002 @hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff @splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit @jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @slutfortits @duhgurl @cheshireshiya @worcesheshestershiresauce @defnotfertilizedtoesw @rensahazard @greyyeti

[bugrry]

you're the thing that's crystal clear

hbo!joel miller x fem!reader

hello lovebugs!!

a/n: after thirteen months of no new writing, the inspiration bug finally bit me again! please please please let me know what you think! hopefully i'll have more works coming out in the next few months, fingers crossed! :EDIT: at first i'd had it written that it was a gn reader, forgetting that i'd used she/her pronouns for the reader. so sorry!

in this fic there are spoilers for episode six of the last of us AND i have not played the game, so if there are any inaccuracies, sorry!

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, reader and joel reuniting (let me know if i missed/forgot about anything!)

word count: 3,105

part two

Joel and Ellie had been at the commune for three whole hours before Joel can bring himself to ask about you. 

“Where is she?” Joel finally asks as the four of them sit together and enjoy their meal. Tommy sighs, as though he’d been waiting for Joel to ask the question. He probably had been. 

“I don’t know, Joel,” Tommy grunted, piercing the last morsel on his plate with his fork. 

“You said she came here with you,” Joel grumbles, his voice just above a whisper. 

“I also said she didn’t want to talk to you,” Tommy responds, swallowing and standing. He grabs his and Maria’s plate once she indicates that she’s done eating. Tommy moves to go to the kitchen, and Joel is following close behind him.

“So she’s here.” He tries to hide the desperation in his voice, but he doesn’t think he was all that convincing. He also doesn’t think he really cares. 

Tommy turns to him, almost snatching Joel’s plate out of his hands. “I’ll tell her you’re here. Let her decide what to do about it. Don’t you dare go lookin’ for her.” 

Joel sighs as he watches Tommy walk away from him, and he decides that he’s going to explore the rest of the commune. He eventually finds himself alone, sitting at a bar in an empty restaurant, thinking about the last time he saw you.

Three Years Ago

“Joel please!” You begged from where you stood with your half-packed backpack.

“No. I’m not joinin’ those Firefly fucks.” He stood tall and intimidating in front of you, almost like he was going to physically stop you from leaving. 

“Even if I have to go?” You said sharply, turning to grab another essential from your small cabinet. 

“You don’t have to go.” Joel almost scoffed. 

“I’ll die if I stay here.” 

“I’ll protect you!” Joel’s hands flew out from where they’d been at his sides. You flinched at the movement and the sudden change in his tone. 

“You can’t. Not from this.” You mumbled, just barely loud enough for him to hear. 

“From what?!” He continued to speak harshly, and you had to push through the instinct to just shut down. 

You dropped what you’d been holding, pressing the palms of your hands into the edge of the counter.  

“From myself!” You took a deep breath and finally turned to face him. “I am rotting here, Joel. I need to get out. For good.”

You had tried so hard to find a purpose here, with him, but every passing day only convinced you further that staying in Boston would kill you. One way or another, you knew that staying here would lead to you being just another one of the bodies that Joel had to toss in the pit. You shuddered at the thought. 

“You’ll rot there too! You can’t pick and choose your life anymore, Y/N! It’s like this everywhere!”

You shook your head, feeling heat rush into your face. “It doesn’t have to be! What if there’s something else out there? Something better?”

“You want to risk your life to find out?”

“Yes, Joel! I have to!” You heard your voice crack, and it was evident that the desperation in your body language had finally seeped its way into your words. 

“Fine!” He barked, turning towards his liquor cabinet as you finished shoving your things into your bag.

“Fine!” You pushed the whimper out of your voice as you zipped your bag shut and made your way out of your shared apartment. 

Once you’d slammed the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against the weakened wood. You shut your eyes as tight as you could, trying to will the tears away as you left down the stairs to where Tommy was waiting for you outside. 

Present Day, 2023

“Joel?” A soft voice comes from behind where Joel had parked himself at the bar. Joel’s head snaps up at your near-silent entrance. “Is that you?”

“...Y/N?” He curses himself for letting someone sneak up on him yet again. But once he sees your face, sees that you’re okay and alive he feels himself deflate. He hadn’t heard from you since you left, only getting bits and pieces from his brother, though Tommy had refused to give Joel much more than that. Joel was sure that had been at your request. After a while, Joel had stopped hearing from Tommy altogether, and thus lost access to whatever minuscule amounts of information he’d been getting about you. 

“They said that Tommy’s brother had come through. Guess they weren’t lyin’.”

“Guess they weren’t.” He mumbles, turning back to where he’d been picking at the chipping wood of the bar.

“You’re really gonna leave her?” You say softly, coming around to the other side of the bar. You pull two glasses from under the counter and turn to grab a bottle of whiskey off the shelf behind you. 

“Shit. How fast does word spread around here?” Joel says, watching your every move, trying to memorize the way you fit into this place so naturally, trying to convince himself that you’re happier here. Without him. 

“Fast enough.” You sigh, placing a half-full glass in front of him. “Dammit.” He doesn’t grab the glass right away, staring at the sloshing liquid until it stills. 

“You can’t leave her.” You say, resting your now empty hand against your hip. 

“Like you left me?”

You sigh, moving to pull a stool from under the counter. You can’t bring yourself to sit directly next to him, not yet. You needed the foot of space that the bar provided to keep you from completely drowning yourself in his presence. “I didn’t have a choice, you know that. You meant the world to me. You still do."

“Do I?” “Joel.” You hesitate. “Do I?” He barks, and there’s a harshness to his words that hadn’t been there when he’d first asked the question. You appear to flinch, but he chooses not to comment on your obvious apprehension. You take a minute to compose yourself before beginning to speak.

“Of course you do. There hasn’t been anyone since you. I don’t know if there ever will be.” You look down at the bar in front of you, daring only once to sneak a peek at Joel’s hands that had finally clasped around the glass. “You don’t have to lie for me. I’m a big boy.” He takes a swig of his drink, grimacing at the pleasant burn it left as it traveled down his throat. “I’m not lyin’. You were it for me.” You continue to avoid his eyes as you busied yourself with wiping down the counter.

Joel grumbled, wanting to drop his head onto the old wood in front of him. “You’re too young for me to have been it for you.” “Maybe so, but I loved you.” “Loved?” “What does it matter to you?” You snap, finally looking up at him and meeting his eyes. It was then that you noticed just how tired he was. Sure, he’d been grizzled and tired when you’d last seen him, but it seemed that the last three years had aged him faster than the previous seventeen had. 

“Never mind.” He says, breaking eye contact and looking back down at where his fingers traced the carvings in the glass. 

You soften, realizing just how much you’d truly missed him, how much you still miss him. You miss the way he’d hold you after a supply run went wrong – or right, for that matter. Joel had loved holding you whenever he got the chance. You miss the way he’d laugh at one of your shitty jokes, playfully pushing you away from him as you tried to get him to admit he’d found it funny. You blush when the thought pops into your head, but you also miss the way he’d put his whole body into kissing you, always made you lose yourself in the feel of his lips, his hands, and his thighs pressed against your body. You didn’t want to dig yourself any deeper of a hole, so you decide to bring the topic back to something you could think about without wanting to scream. 

“Please don’t leave her, Joel.”

Joel groans, looking back up at you and frowning, “We���re back on this?”

“It’s important. I can tell how much she means to you.” “It’s none of your business,” he says, taking a final swig of his drink. 

“Isn’t it?”

He shakes his head, looking down at the empty glass in front of him, “Nope.”

“I suppose it’s not,” you relent, moving to pour him another few ounces. He lets you.

“I’m glad we finally agree on something.”

You nod, looking down at the bottle in your hands. You place the bottle back on the shelf, turning back to take a drink out of your own glass. You decide to push it further. 

“Ellie’s not going to let you leave her.”

Joel sighs as if he’s annoyed that the conversation has continued, but he doesn’t leave. For that, you are thankful.

“What do you know about her?” He demands quietly, still refusing to look back up at you.

“I know enough.”

“I’m not gonna leave her,” he concedes, “I’m gonna give her a choice. Let her stay here or come with me.”

“She’s gonna choose you.”

“How do you know? You didn’t.” 

“That was different.” “Was it?” He grunts. 

“Yes. Because I regret it.” At this, his eyes snap up to meet yours. You’re looking at him sadly, as if it was obvious, as if he should have known that you regretted leaving him. Maybe he should have. He doesn’t say anything for a long while, just staring at you and watching the tears pool in your eyes.

“Oh,” is all he comes up with, and you frown. 

“Is that what you wanted to hear? That I regret leaving you? That I’ve been miserable this whole time without you?”

“No, of course not,” he says sincerely. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes and taking another drink from your glass, “Yeah right.”

“You think I wanted you to be miserable?” Joel says, finally standing from his seat at the bar, “I’ve thought about you every day since you left. I didn’t want to let you leave, but I also knew I had no power to stop you. I knew you were miserable in Boston. I knew I couldn’t convince you to stay.” “Even with how miserable leaving you made me feel, I think it was the right choice.” Joel frowns again, and the wrinkles around his eyes become only more prominent. You yearn to press the obvious hurt out of his face. You don’t let him speak, holding up your hand as you continue talking.

“I think I had to leave you. I don’t think I realized how important you were to me until I didn’t have you anymore.” At your words, Joel's frown only hardens. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t you tell me what I mean, Joel Miller,” you snap, your back straightening from where you’d been leaning against the shelf. 

“If I was so important to you, why didn’t you come back?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me back.” 

Joel’s face softens. He looks at you like you’ve just told him the most heartbreaking news he’d ever heard. “What?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it, “You thought…” he trails off, not allowing himself to finish the thought. 

“I thought you hated me.” You blurt. You curse yourself, you’d meant to say it softer than that, to maybe sugarcoat it a little bit. 

“You thought I hated you?” You don’t answer him this time, merely shrugging and looking down and tracing the grain pattern of the bar. “I could never hate you.”

He says it so harshly you feel as though you’re being scolded, and it only makes you shrink further in on yourself. He notices your shift and softens. He comes around your side of the bar, needing to be close to you, to feel your warmth again. You allow him to approach you, and when you don’t shy away from him, he feels a part of him that has been asleep for three years reawaken. He is filled with a sort of warmth that he never thought he’d feel again as he reaches up to cup your face, speaking softly, “Sweetheart, I could never hate you. Never in a million years could I hate you.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek, and he may be imagining it, but he thinks he feels you press your face into his hand. You close your eyes, but he has more to say.

“Y/N, listen to me. We’ve been through too much for me to ever hate you. I’ve seen you at your absolute worst and I still wanted you so bad it hurt.”

You pull away from his touch, and he feels cold again.

“That was before I left,” You say, almost as if you’re ashamed of yourself.

“That’s true. Even after that, though. I never hated you. Not for a second.” “Don’t lie to me Joel,” you almost whimper, and you shut your eyes in embarrassment at letting your voice crack.

“I’m not lying to you. Sure, I was pissed. Heartbroken, even. I thought you and Tommy were idiots for leaving, but there’s no way in hell I ever hated you for it.”

You give a non-commital shrug, still avoiding eye contact with him, “sure,” you eventually mumble.

“I’m telling you the truth. I have to reason to lie to you.”

“To spare my feelings, maybe.” You say softly, now fidgeting with your fingers.

“When have I ever done that?”

This makes you chuckle quietly, and he’s filled with a sort of pride that warms him from the inside out. There’s my girl, he finds himself thinking. Your laugh and your smile fades, and with it, that fuzzy feeling in Joel’s chest. 

“You should hate me.” You finally say. 

“I know,” he says, reaching up to touch you again. This time, he reaches for your hair, pushing a lock of it from your face, “But I can’t bring myself to.”

It's quiet for a few moments before you speak again, “I thought I hated you.” Joel’s hand drops from your face.

“What?” He tries to keep the fear out of his voice, and from your lack of reaction, he hopes that he’s succeeded. 

“I thought I hated you because you let me leave so easily. I thought you’d just decided you didn’t need me anymore. That I wasn’t worth fighting for. That was stupid, I realize that now. But I wrote some pretty bitter things about you in my journal.”

Joel’s hand moves back up to your face, this time to brush away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks, “I could never not need you.”

You shake your head, moving out of his grip again. “You did just fine for more than a decade without me.”

“Maybe I just didn’t realize how alone I was.”

This makes you laugh again, but not in a way that fills Joel with warmth. It’s bitter, doubtful, and angry.

“I could show you,” he starts again, moving back into your personal space, “if you’d let me. I could show you how much you meant to me. How much you still mean to me.”

“I don’t…” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“If you’d let me, I’d spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me.”

“Joel…” you start again, but this time you let yourself trail off, not knowing what you were going to say, just knowing that you should probably say something.

“Please sugar,” he starts again, placing his hands softly on your shoulders. You don’t move any closer, but you also don’t move away, so Joel keeps going, “You said it yourself. There’s still a small part of you that loves me, even if you probably shouldn’t.”

You mumble something to yourself, something Joel couldn’t make out. He reaches up to move your face towards him, to force you to look at him. You obey his silent request, looking up and into his eyes that were somehow still so soft, even after all these years. 

“It’s not a small part of me, Joel,” you say again, speaking louder this time, “It was never a small fucking part. My whole being was devoted to you. It tore me apart to leave you. I was useless on the road. Once we were with the Fireflies, I threw myself into my work and my chores so that I didn’t have to think about the huge Joel-shaped piece that was missing from my heart. I hate myself for leaving, and I hate myself even more for not going back to Boston and fighting for you. I was a coward. I still am.”

By the time you’re finished talking, tears are streaming down your face. Joel is looking at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen, and it makes you want to curl into a ball and never speak to anyone again. He lets you cry for a moment before he responds.

“If you’re a coward, then I’m a coward too. I could have just as easily come looking for you.” “I never expected you to.” You squeak out, in between your sobs “And I never expected you to come back. That doesn’t mean I got over you leaving. I didn’t think I’d ever get over it. And I hadn’t, not until I saw you here.”

Once he finishes speaking, he finally pulls you into his chest and just lets you sob into him. He doesn’t know how long the two of you stand there, in that empty bar, with his arms wrapped around you, but what he does know is that he never wants to let you go. Eventually, your sobs fade to quiet sniffles and you shift in order to wrap your arms around his body. Even though the two of you are pressed against each other, the way you grab at him makes it seem as though you need him even closer. You mumble something into his chest that he can’t quite make out, so he pulls you away from him. You whine at the loss of his touch, but you quiet once you see how he looks at you.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

“I said I love you.” You sniffle, reaching up and wiping a tear from his face.

“I love you too, Y/N. God, do I love you.”

-

part two

[soullumii]

it's a risk but babe, i need the thrill | joel miller x f!reader

part 1, part 2

summary: everything finally comes to a head

warnings: 18+!!! smut! unprotected piv, gentle smut

tags: angst, reconciliation, fluff, pining, smut (but it's light compared to the other two parts), halloween vibes (i was supposed to finish this in october, oops)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: guys. i am SO SORRY for the wait. this was so hard for me to finish i almost gave up so many times. i'm still unhappy with this but i can't make myself work on it anymore so here u go. thank you all so much for your patience, i really appreciate it. special thank you to @joelsfaveouritegirl for your support... i probably would've never finished this if it weren't for you, so thank you. <3. and thanks to all of you who kept me accountable. i hope you enjoy this fucking mess. also, this is probably the last joel fic i'll write for a while. i'm sorry. still, i hope you like this.

______________________________________________________________

There are only two seasons in Jackson, Wyoming: winter and not winter.

Where other states might have a gradual shift from warm to cold, in Wyoming, it’s like a slap to the face, quite literally. The moment you step into the evening October air, it feels as if you’ve walked into a wall of cold. 

You shiver in your thick coat, and pull your scarf over your frosty nose as you meander down to the plaza.

While Jackson residents enjoy their time indoors and close to the fireplace during the colder months, they still love to celebrate outdoors, relying on their booze to keep them warm.

You don’t stop by Joel’s for a drink this time, he’s likely already in town square, dragged there by his daughter. Or… sort of daughter. He’s told you how he feels about Ellie, but the girl has her own opinions. Sure, she might deny that he’s like her dad, but she sure as hell treats him like he is. 

You’re meeting them there. 

The stars are already twinkling in the sky when you reach the throng of people. All of Jackson’s residents are in the plaza tonight for Halloween, dressed in homemade costumes and ones raided from the Party City in Idaho Falls. Jack-o-lanterns glow menacingly in corners and scarecrows are propped against brick walls. A few people in particularly frightening costumes prowl about, startling kids and adults alike.

Stalls line the edges of the plaza, each one providing something different. Tipsy Bison’s stall is run by Tommy, serving alcohol for the adults of the town. Seth’s stall is serving pork and brisket sandwiches. There’s a few stalls down the road advertising pumpkins and pastries, and you get a whiff of apple cider. Barrels of fire are scattered about to provide warmth. Lights are strung from the roofs of buildings, spread across the road, like clothes on a clothesline. 

It’s incredibly cozy, and already, you feel much warmer than you did walking out of your house. 

Within moments of passing Seth’s stall you hear Ellie’s voice ring out. 

“She's here!”

You can’t see her weaving through the crowd but you can see Joel trailing behind, his arm trapped in front of him. He politely excuses himself and apologizes to those he bumps into as his daughter drags him through a crowd of people. 

You can’t help but laugh, especially when you hear him say, “Jesus, kid, slow down.” 

And then she’s in front of you, smiling and bouncing excitedly on her heels, dressed as one of the superheroes from the comics she reads. Joel is behind her wearing a black blindfold with the eyes cut out, and a felt superhero crest is stitched to the front of his black sweater. He looks very adorable. Clearly, Ellie forced him to dress up. His gaze catches yours, full of something you can’t quite grasp, a small, embarrassed smile on his lips.

“Hi,” he says, voice soft.

“Hi,” you repeat.

It’s been… well… you’re not quite sure how to describe how it’s been since you told him to stop kissing you. 

It’s not like you guys have stopped seeing each other since then. Or that it’s been more awkward or anything. It just feels as if you’ve been depriving your body of what it needs, like you’re actively starving yourself. 

You’d feel full while he was fucking you, and yet there was a hole in your chest, gnawing at your thoughts, a hunger so deep rooted that it’s been taking you longer to come. 

Joel had noticed, too. Noticed your struggle and your frustration. He took it as something he was doing wrong, even though you insisted that wasn’t the case. Still, he took his time with you, trying to meet all your needs, and that, funnily enough, just made you feel worse. 

Your meetings have grown fewer. Sometimes you would go a couple weeks without seeing each other—at least like that.  Funny, how before you were so upset when he hadn’t been with you for a while. And now… now the distance is needed.

You still went out to dinner with him and Tommy and Maria. You still stopped by to say hi to Ellie and ask Joel how he’s been. Things have been normal, besides the overwhelming feeling of longing that strikes your breast the moment you see him. 

You worry that it shows on your face, especially because of the dreams you’ve been having, like some lovesick teenager. Dreams that don’t involve just having sex. Dreams that frame the two of you as lovers, as parents as… growing old together. 

Sometimes you’ll wake up crying, wondering if maybe you should just stop seeing him, talking to him, being around him all together. But then you’ll see him in town, or on patrols, and you know you’d never be able to stay away.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, and turn your attention to Ellie. 

“Hey kiddo!” You greet, plastering a smile on. She doesn’t seem to notice your being off. 

“You’re not dressed up,” she remarks, arms crossing over her chest. 

“Um. Yes I am,” you gesture to your black sweater and black pants. “I’m a black cat.” 

“You don’t even have ears or whiskers and a nose. That's a terrible costume.” 

Joel squeezes her shoulder with a frown. “Hey, quit.”

“No, she’s fine. She’s right,” you sigh. “This was super last minute.” 

“Cat is doing face painting down by the haunted house. You should let her paint some whiskers on you.” 

You take a glance at Joel and he shrugs. God he looks ridiculous in that costume. Your heart constricts. You might as well be as ridiculous as him. 

“That sounds great,” you say. Ellie looks like she’s about to drag you there when Dina comes running around the corner, practically slamming into her. 

“Hey!” Ellie laughs, “Slow down.” 

“You have to come with me. We’re going to do the haunted house, Jesse is already waiting for us. Come on,” Dina says, and pulls Ellie away before you and Joel can say a thing. 

The two of you stand there for a moment, watching the kids with fond smiles before finally looking at each other. 

His gaze seems to soften impossibly more when it lands on you.

“Your costume is kinda lame,” he says after a moment. 

“Oh shut up.”

**

The paintbrush glides smoothly over your skin as Cat paints the tip of your nose black and whiskers on your cheeks. You keep sneaking glances at Joel who waits patiently for your face painting session to finish.

Once you’re done you stride over to him, grinning.

“Well?” You prompt, turning around and showing off your newly improved costume. “Not so lame anymore, huh?”

He chuckles, eyes roaming your figure. Heat simmers low in your belly at the glint in his dark eyes. “Much better.”

He pauses, eyes catching on your face. “Hey, wait.” He grabs your hand and pulls you in close. He’s warm, a nice contrast to the cool October air. You want to just snuggle up to him, wriggle your fingers up under his sweater to share his warmth.

“You got a little somethin’…” he trails off, hand coming up to press his thumb to your skin. He gently wipes off a stray black smudge from beneath your eye. It takes no less than five seconds, yet it feels like an eternity. Your chest presses into his, his hand is warm as it cups your cheek. His breath puffs against your lips, an almost kiss. And his eyes, focused so dearly on the smudge, slowly drift up to lock with yours. 

“Perfect,” he mumbles, gaze never straying from yours. His hand never leaves your cheek, his thumb brushing carefully below your eye once more, a soft, subconscious caress now.

“Thanks,” you breathe.

Time feels like it’s stopped. 

A kid rushes by with a delighted scream as another kid in a costume chases after him. You and Joel jolt apart, snapped back into motion.

He clears his throat and you swallow hard.

“You want somethin’ to drink?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

***

Tommy is beaming with his own little flush of alcohol when you and Joel come across his stall.

Maria hangs by his side, but her eyes follow every action happening around you. Ever the diligent leader.

“Howdy,” Tommy says, and Maria takes the time to glance over at the two of you with a welcoming smile.

“Hey,” Joel says, and you nod your head in greeting.

“You guys lookin’ for a drink?” Tommy asks. “We’ve got spiked apple cider.”

You bounce excitedly on your toes at that. Joel laughs lightly at the way your expression brightens. “We’ll take two.”

“Comin’ right up.”

“You’ve done a great job planning for this, Maria. Everything looks amazing,” you say.

She turns to you, and to your surprise, she looks a bit bashful. “Thanks. Everyone on the council helped a lot. I’m glad we can provide something fun like this.”

“The kids really need it.”

“I think the adults do, too. It’s nice to be able to scream without it being true fear.”

“Amen to that,” Tommy pipes up and sets two mugs of steaming spiked apple cider down. 

“Thanks, Tommy,” Joel says, and hands you a mug.

“There’s a haunted house down the road, you guys should go check it out. Laney and Paul spent a long time on it,” Maria says.

“We will, thanks. See you guys around!”

You wave goodbye to them and make your way through the plaza. Joel’s hand finds the small of your back, warm and steady. You’re glad for it, as scarers prowl along the streets, jumping out randomly and thrusting their hands in your face.

The haunted house lingers at the edge of the road like a ghost. Party City decorations blot the yard: gravestones, plastic skeletons, witches with rotted cloaks. It’s like everything they could manage to carry was dumped here. 

A line curves outside the door, kids bouncing on their feet as they await their turns. You feel a little ridiculous joining them, being your age, but Joel probably feels even more ridiculous so you push the thought from your mind.

“I’m actually kind of nervous,” you tell him as screams ring out from within the house.

“This thing ain’t nearly as terrifyin’ as the real world,” Joel says.

“Yeah, but still. I’ve never been a fan of being scared.” 

Joel takes a sip of his spiked apple cider and shrugs. “I’ll protect ya.”

“My hero,” you coo and run your hand over the superhero crest stitched to his chest. He smiles. 

Soon enough you’re at the door. 

“You go first,” you tell Joel, and shove him in front of you, but you don’t let go of him.

"Good to know you're not afraid to throw me to the wolves."

"Your sacrifice will not be in vain."

He rolls his eyes but lets you fist one of your hands in his sweater and hold onto his arm with the other. You peer around him as the two of you venture inside. 

A radio plays spooky sounds from all directions as you trail behind Joel through the house. Your eyes flit across every crevice, searching for who is going to scare you. Still, you don’t notice everything.

From seemingly nowhere, someone pops out in a Michael Meyers mask with a fake knife. You screech and hold tight to Joel. He hardly even flinches.

“How are you so chill?” you ask with a pout once you’ve recovered. Red lights flash in the hallway. Your voice is shaking. God, you’re a wimp.

“Because I’ve got someone I need to protect. I can’t act all scared, now, can I?”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s just making shit up. He’s not scared at all.

You get closer and closer to him as the house progresses. Your hands are now interlinked, your cheek pressed against the warm muscle of his shoulder blades. You’re practically on top of him, trying to stay as close as possible. 

Even with Joel acting so nonchalant, you’re scared. You get jump scared a few more times as you continue, thankful that your hands are preoccupied with holding onto Joel else you might’ve punched one of the scarers.

Eventually you make it to the end in one piece, your heart racing. You know it’s ridiculous—Ellie probably got through this with a straight face. Still, it’s kind of fun, being scared. You’re giggling into Joel’s sweater by the end of it, and he’s tucked you into his side, hand still interlocked with yours as you meander back to the plaza.

Warmth blossoms in your chest. Is this what it would be like if you were truly together? You feel the urge to push up on your toes to kiss him, but you shove it down. Guilt tugs at the back of your mind at the thought. 

“You’re such a scaredy cat, I guess that costume is fittin’,” he muses, rubbing warmth into your waist.

“Sorry we can’t all be macho men like you."

You go to pull away, to create some distance. You can’t keep getting close to him like this. It weighs too heavily on your heart. But Joel squeezes your hand and tugs you back into his side, and you’re so very weak. You melt into him despite yourself.

“I think you rather like my macho-ness,” he says.

Heat pools in your belly at the smirk on his face, the darkness in his eyes. You avert your gaze with a small smile, warmth coloring your cheeks. “Yeah right.”

He turns toward you, towering over you. His hand splays heavily on your hip, and you shudder. “Playin’ coy now, huh? Where was this yesterday when—“

“Joel!” Ellie screeches, skidding to a stop in front of the two of you. You feel the urge to jerk away, but Joel only shifts so that he’s no longer in your face. He still keeps you close. 

“What’s up kiddo?” 

“There’s a campfire, everyone’s asking us to play a song.” 

That piques your interest. Joel has played guitar for you a couple times, though he’s always very shy about it. You’ve stumbled across him playing on his own with no one to watch. It’s fascinating what the music does to him.

It’s like he’s transported somewhere else, his eyes closed as his fingers pluck the strings of his guitar, his foot tapping to the beat, his head nodding along as his hands tell a story through the notes. 

You’ve never seen him play a whole song like that, he’s always noticed you before he could ever finish. And when you’d ask him to keep playing, there was a bit of stiltedness. You realized it was nervousness… he wanted you to be impressed, to like what he was doing. 

You’re not sure how you ever could dislike his playing. 

“You should do it,” you say. 

Joel’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “I dunno—“

“What, you’re not scared, are you?” you tease.

“Don't talk to me about being scared. Pretty sure you stretched out my sweater with how hard you were holding onto me,” he counters. 

“Will you two stop bickering like a married couple? Joel, they’re waiting. Come on!” Ellie says and grabs his hand, tugging him along. You laugh as you follow, though her little comment sticks in your mind. 

***

Joel settles down on a log with his guitar in his lap. Ellie sits at his side. You got a spot a couple logs away, so you could get a good view of them. The campfire lights his silver hair copper, reflecting like stars off the wood of his guitar. 

“Any fans of Bread here?” he asks, and a few hoots and hollers sound out. Joel laughs at that, and Ellie rolls her eyes. You've never heard of the band, but you wait with bated breath. They tune their guitars, and then Joel takes a deep breath and counts down. 

One, two, three, four…

Soft strumming fills the air. Ellie keeps the main melody, but Joel plucks more of the details. He sings first.

Baby I’m-a want you

Baby I’m-a need you

You’re the only one I care enough to hurt about

His voice is smooth, a bit shaky from the nerves, but it washes over you like a warm wave of water. Immediately, you’re drawn in. It’s unrealistic, but you still think that Joel could save the world with his voice. It’s scratchy but soft, if one can be both of those things at the same time.

He looks up through his lashes, his gaze catching yours.

Maybe I’m-a crazy, but I just can’t live without

your lovin’ and affection… givin’ me direction

Like a guiding light to help me through my darkest hours

Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be-a stayin’

Beside me…

Your breath catches in your throat while he sings.

It’s just a song, you tell yourself. But the way he’s looking at you… it’s as if everyone else has disappeared. As if the words were created specifically for you. As if… as if maybe he chose this song for a reason…

Ellie picks up the prechorus with her angelic voice, and you’re brought back into the present. But then Joel starts the solo, his eyelids fluttering shut as the music takes over him. His head nods along to notes as he plucks each one out with precision and skill. His foot taps in time with the beat, and people cheer, but you can’t stop staring. 

The solo ends all too soon, but Joel’s voice merges beautifully with Ellie’s harmonies back on the prechorus once more. 

Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be a stayin’

Beside me…

Used to be my life was just emotions passin’ by. 

Then you came along and made me laugh and made me cry

He gives you a small grin, secret, for no one else but you.

You taught me why…

Baby I’m-a want you. 

Baby I’m-a need you. 

Oh, it took so long to find you baby

Baby I’m-a want you.

Baby I’m-a need you.

Your chest constricts at the sight of him, at the sound of the last few notes being plucked expertly by his fingers. At the blend of his voice with Ellie’s. You can't bear to sit here at this campfire, watching him only as a friend, a fellow neighbor, just like everyone else. You want him to sing this song for you. To know that it’s only you he’s thinking of as the last few strings are plucked by his nimble fingers, ringing out into the dark, cold night. That it’s only you he sees clapping and cheering him on. But you can’t even grant him that, already on your feet the moment the song ends, practically sprinting away from the campfire as your throat grows tight and tears spring to your eyes.

You hope no one has noticed. You hope the footsteps you can hear crunching on crimson leaves are just someone walking past. Of course they’re not though.

“Are you okay?” the familiar timbre of Joel’s voice asks.

God, no! Why! 

You frantically wipe the tears from your eyes, sniffling snot so it doesn’t drip down your lip and betray you. 

“Oh,” you start, and internally curse the way your voice shakes. You turn toward the one who has been unraveling you at the seams with a trembling smile. “Hi, Joel.”

“Christ, what’s wrong, baby?”

“Don’t—don’t call me baby,” you say, and it’s not at all what you mean to say. You mean to just reassure, to just brush this off and bury it deep inside and never let it out. But you don’t. 

Joel’s face hardens, and he steps in closer with a hand stretched out but at the look on your face, thinks better of touching you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he says. “Why are you crying? What happened?”

Nothing. It was just a pretty song.

Was it for me?

Nothing. I’m just being hormonal.

Do those lyrics mean something to you?

Nothing. 

Enough. Enough with the excuses and the rules and the lies. 

“You happened,” you spit. 

He takes a surprised step back. “What?”

“You and your stupid fucking—your stupid fucking friends with benefits and your stupid fucking big heart and your stupid fucking guitar happened, Joel.”

This is probably the first time you’ve ever rendered Joel speechless outside of sex. He looks so stupid standing there staring at you with his wide eyes and his dropped jaw. And yet all you want to do his pull him in and hug him and tell him how much you love his stupid fucking face. Instead, you take a step back. 

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” he mutters. “You’re freezin’. Let’s head back to my place, we can talk about it there—“

“No. No. I won’t let you just fuck me and then pretend like whatever’s between us doesn’t exist.”

“That’s not—“ he starts, but then must register what you said because his brows furrow over his ice cold gaze. “Me? I pretend like it doesn’t exist?” 

“Yes!”

“No I don’t. You’re the one that told me you didn’t want me to kiss you anymore. You’re the one that’s been keepin’ me at arm's length all this time. You’re the one pretending.”

You go to yell back at him, to deny, but the realization that he’s right kills the words in your throat, and you fall silent. 

Joel steps closer, his voice dropping. “You can act like I’m the one that’s been torturing you as much as you like, but it just ain’t true.” 

His eyes flit across your face wildly, taking in the tears in your eyes, the tremble of your lips, the tint of your cheeks from the cold. He softens.

“Darlin' I... I have been in love with you since the first time I heard you laugh. Since the first time you even glanced my way. Every god damn day is torture wanting all of you when all I can have is some of you.”

You can’t speak, can hardly even breathe. 

“If you don’t want to make this anythin’ other than sex, just tell me,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw. His breath condenses into steam in the cold air. “Tell me you want to keep pretending, and we can keep pretending."

“I…I don’t.” You shake your head. “I don’t want to keep pretending.”

His nose brushes yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Tell me you don’t want more.”

You swallow harshly. “I want more.” 

“Tell me you’re sorry you made me stop kissing you.”

“Please, kiss me, Joel.”

“You’re not very good at followin’ directions, are you?” he says, grinning, and you can’t help but laugh into the kiss when he pulls you in.

His lips are soft, deliberate when they meet yours. He coaxes you open, makes you slow down, pulls you into it so you feel it entirely. Reminds you of what you were missing when you forbade him from kissing you. 

God, you missed it so much. Missed him. 

Joel’s arms wind around your waist, his hands sliding along the fabric of your coat, and it’s so cold but god you wish you had less layers on right now. You’re sure the warmth of his hands could keep you from hypothermia. 

“I’m sorry I forbade you from kissing me,” you say. 

He hums, “I guess I can forgive you. Might need some convincing.”

“Oh shut up,” you grin, and pull him back in again. 

“I hate pretending like I don’t love you,” he murmurs against your lips, hands gripping your waist.

“You… really love me?”

“Did you not hear my speech earlier?” 

“I did. I just… can’t really believe it.”

He pulls you in close and gently grasps your jaw with his large hands. He kisses you again, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. 

His lips find the corner of your mouth. “I love you,” he says. 

A kiss to your cheek. “I love you.”

A kiss to your eyelid. “I love you.” 

When he pulls back, he’s smiling again. It’s strange to see Joel smile. He really doesn’t do it often around anyone. But you guess you’re an exception.

All that time you had spent pushing him away, agonizing over how much you loved him, fearing that he’d leave you if you so much had hinted that you were in love with him, only for him to be in love with you all this time? Holy shit. The world feels like it’s turned upside down. 

“Okay, I think I believe you now,” you say in a laugh. 

“You haven’t said it back, which I guess is alright—“

“I love you too, Joel,” you interrupt. 

He softens again. “I love you,” he murmurs, and pulls you in again for another toe curling kiss. God, you were an idiot for making him stop.

He wipes the tears from your eyes with a calloused thumb. “Your face paint is smudgin’.” 

“It was a stupid costume anyway.”

“No, it's cute. But…” Joel glances about, lips quirking in a smirk. He leans down, and his voice is so low you almost don’t hear it. “I think it would look better on my floor.”

“Well…” you fight the grin on your face, delighting in the heat curling low within you. “I guess since you love me and we’re kissing again and aren’t exactly friends anymore… we could really put that statement to the test.” 

“I think we should,” he says, and leans down to kiss your neck. 

You hum in approval. “What about Ellie?”

“She had plans to go to Dina’s after the festival,” he says, between kisses. “Come over, please? Or do I need to send you a letter with a wax stamp and everythin’?”

“Well… since you said please, I guess that will do.”

The whole walk to his place he has his arm slung about your waist, proudly displaying that you’re his. 

You nuzzle yourself into his side, grateful for his warmth and companionship. Your heart feels so full, so light, as if you might actually drift up into the air. Thank god Joel is holding you to keep you grounded. 

You smile at Maria and Tommy when you pass by them, and they exchange a look that says something like Finally. 

Then you’re at his house, and he’s unlocking the door and letting you go in first. And this time when you’re welcomed inside, you’re no longer worrying about rules or how you feel, or how you might fuck this up. It’s so fucking freeing. 

Joel doesn’t ravish you the moment the door closes. Instead, he kind of just stares at you. 

You squirm under his attention, growing self conscious. “What?”

He smiles, hands gravitating to your hips. “Nothin’. I just love you.” 

You grin. “I love you too.” 

He kisses you again, and you don’t think you could ever get enough of it. You kisses you roughly against the door, hips colliding with yours, over and over, and soon enough you’re shaking with want. Mind muddled, whispering a single word into his ear, “Bedroom.” 

It feels different here this time. All those times in the past had felt restrained, now, everything feels exactly as it should. 

When before you used to strip down quickly just to get him inside you, this time, you both take your time. He carefully unwraps you like a present as he noses kisses down your throat. He peels your thick black sweater off, and slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders, his dark eyes locked with yours. Joel reaches behind you and undoes the clasp with ease. You can hardly hold back your shaky sigh. 

Your hands smooth over his sweater-clad chest before pulling it up and over his head. That jagged scar is there on his stomach, a reminder of everything he’s been through. You run your hand along it, and he shudders. 

“Sit down,” he says. 

You sit on the edge of the bed, and he kneels before you. Then, he grabs your boot-clad foot and sets it on his thigh. He undoes the laces and carefully takes the boot off. He does the other, and then hooks his fingers around your waistband and pulls it and your panties off together. 

“I was right,” he says. “It really does look better on my floor.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, and pull him back into you. His lips catch yours gently, but the kiss intensifies when your mouth parts eagerly as his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips. His tongue slips in, and a moan tumbles out of you as your hands scrabble at his shoulder blades, your nails lightly scratching over thin scars.

His nose squishes against your cheek, and his large, hot hands slide up and down your body, like he just can’t keep them still. Like he wants to catalog all of you right now, remember it forever. 

He rocks against you, still confined in his jeans, but you can feel the hard shape of him brushing against your sensitive core, the friction incredibly delicious. Your hands find his button and zipper, undoing them both with as much concentration as you can muster, though it’s really difficult when he’s kissing you like you contain all of the world’s oxygen. 

Finally, he allows you to breathe, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin of your throat as he mouths hot kisses down your skin. He grips one of your thighs, setting it against his hip, large, rough fingers splaying across the whole of it. God, you love how easily you fit in his palms.

He grinds his hips into you over and over and you moan, aching for the feel of him inside you. You tug at his waistband again. “Joel, please take these off already.” 

“Not yet,” he says, and releases your leg, his hand skating across the skin of your thigh, brushing gently along, making you shudder in his hold. You can feel the warmth of his fingers as he nears where you want him most. 

And then, his fingers are on you, swirling in gentle circles, unraveling you at the seams. Your head hits the mattress and your back arches. He knows exactly what to do to make you putty in his hands, has had so much time to practice. But this time, it feels so much better, knowing now that he loves you. That you’re more than just friends. 

Your palms find his face and you pull him in for a slow, meaningful kiss, trying to tell him just how thankful you are for him. How glad you are that he loves you. How sorry you are for not letting him kiss you. It’s kind of hard to kiss him, though, when he’s making you feel this good. Your fingers curl into his hair, tugging at it, and he moans into your mouth. 

He slips one, two fingers inside you, pumping them at a steady pace that has your hands gripping his hair tightly and your hips scrabbling for that pleasant release dangling in front of you. He urges you on with encouraging, quiet words, his dark eyes boring into yours. Your mind, body, and soul feel hot.

When his thumb finds your clit it’s only moments until you’re shattering against him, warmth flooding your body. Your hips jerk, your legs shaking as he takes you over the edge. 

“Pants off. Now,” you huff between breaths, and he finally listens. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Then, he shifts you up the bed… it reminds you of the first time the two of you had sex again after he was so busy. So much the same yet so different. His hand moves up your body, cups one of your breasts, kneading it gently. When his thumb ghosts over your nipple, you shiver. 

“You’re so beautiful, darlin’,” he murmurs, and grasps your knee, pulling it over his hip. 

And then he’s sliding in, and the stretch is blissful, so welcome, so familiar and yet so new. You hold onto him, keeping him close as he begins to move. You feel full, mind faraway with bliss.

“God, Joel-“ you hiss. 

He groans out your name, and it rumbles through you like rolling thunder. Lightning lights a fuse at the end of your spine. 

You’re out of control. He tends to do that to you. Make you angry, make you sad, draw all the emotions you tend to not want to deal with out of you. Frustrates you, makes you so hungry with want that you throw all semblance of rational thought away. And he likes it. You like it. 

God, you love him so much. 

You move together as one, pushing and pulling. Everything shrinks down to just this. Him. You. Where your bodies meet. 

“More,” you moan, and he huffs out a laugh, but obliges, thrusting into you deeper, harder, and you’re as tight as a bowstring. 

Every anxious thought, every worry, every single doubt dissipates with every movement of his hips. You shift your own to meet his thrusts, and soon he’s gasping into your skin, growling your name. His hand winds into your hair, and he breathes with you, eyes locked with yours. 

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs. “Come for me.” 

Well, who are you to deny him? He pushes you over the edge in an instant, your body going taught, eyes rolling back into your head. His name flows out of you like a mantra.

Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel. 

“I love you,” he says into your throat when he follows you, hips jerking with sloppy thrusts as he comes inside you. 

Joel collapses next to you, pulling you into him, his arm slung heavily across your waist. When you can finally catch your breath, you say, “I love you, too.”

His grin is sated, eyes heavy when he pulls you in for another deep kiss. “We’ve said that a lot, huh?”

“Just making up for lost time. I think it’s alright.” 

“I should’ve said it a lot sooner,” he says, calloused fingers brushing against your cheek as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“Me too. Telling you not to kiss me was really dumb.” 

“Probably not the smartest thing you’ve said.” 

You scoff in mock offense, pushing at his shoulder. “Asshole.” 

“Yeah, but you love me.”

You roll your eyes, but scoot further into him, laying your head on his chest. 

It might have been a risk to fall in love with your best friend, but God, you’re glad you did. 

“Yeah, I really do.”