#best laptops for engineering students | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mermaidgirl30 · 4 months

Text

✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Pt 3: October Surprises and Secrets Slurred ✨ dbf! Joel

Series Masterlist

-Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

-Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

-Word Count: 13.2k

- Tags: Porn with Plot, dbf! Joel, fingering, oral, face riding, dirty talk, dom! Joel, (reader is 25, Joel is mid 40’s)

- Chapter Summary: Your relationship gets more heated with a lot more intimacy going on between you and Joel, but will you finally get caught?

- A/N: I love this series so much and can’t wait to bring you more filthy scenes between these two 🤭 Sorry not sorry this chapter is so long, it’s worth it 😉 Reblogs are appreciated and I always love seeing your comments ❤️

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

October rushes through Austin as the cool, autumn breeze whisks through your soft curls. The campus is buzzing with focused, anxious students who rush to get last minute papers and assignments in for midterms. You have been diligent and already turned in your law papers, so you’re now free of midterm anxiety, unlike the other students in your classes.

The historic, massive library is filled up with laptops splayed all over tables and empty Starbucks coffee cups that sit next to their cramped hands that struggle to keep writing in notebooks. Sunlight beams through the stained-glass windows as you pass through the library, making your way out into the cold to go find your car somewhere in the mix of all the campus traffic.

As you open the library doors, you get a shot of cold air that blows right through your purple cardigan, and you wrap it around yourself to try to keep the chill from seeping down into your bones. When you cross campus, your mind wonders to Joel and how much you want to see his handsome face right now. The thought of his massive hands cupping your chin and those pretty coffee colored eyes staring down at you make you shiver with anticipation.

Joel, Joel, Joel. He’s always on your mind, never letting a minute pass without him there. You both can’t leave each other alone, not able to go a day without speaking to one another. He always asks if you have plans after school or when your shift gets over at the coffee shop off Main Street. It’s almost like you’re a normal couple. Almost. There’s just that itch behind your ear that’s always buzzing when you’re with him. That loud, annoying ringing in your ears that reminds you that you’re sneaking around your parents, mostly your dad. You honestly have no idea how he would react to the news, so you’d hide it for as long as you could. Your mom might take it lighter, but your dad. He might actually lose it, and you do not want to see that happen.

When you get to your shining Nissan Rouge and hear the click of the unlocked door, you jump in and slam the door shut, throwing your belongings over in the passenger seat. As you put the silver key in the ignition and turn, it barely hums to life and then dies again. The glowing orange check engine light blinks in front of you, and you pound your hands on the sleek steering wheel.

“No, fuck! Please, work for me,” you beg as you turn the key and try again, praying for a miracle. The engine spurts out a pathetic, muffled sound and then magically starts up as the car hums to life once again. “Oh, thank God,” you sigh as you wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Joel. He’d know what to do. You pull out your phone and dial Joel’s number in a hurry, trying to keep your patience as you tap your nails on the black steering wheel. Joel picks up on the third ring.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he drawls into the phone, his voice sounding like thick honey and sinking its way down into the pit of your stomach where warmth spreads.

“Hi, handsome,” you respond, a small smile spreading quickly over your face as the sound of his deep voice automatically soothes you.

“How was school? You get all your essays turned in? I don’t even have to ask, you already did. Didn’t you?” he asks with the sound of a light, raspy laugh on the end of the line.

“Just got them in today, actually,” you smile.

“Look at you gettin’ them in early. Such a smart girl, aren’t ya?” he purrs, making you bite your lip in response to the audible praise.

“Mhm,” you hum, your voice suddenly turning shaky as you look at the glowing engine light that warns you you shouldn’t be driving the car right now. Joel notices your shift in tone and responds with an edge to his voice.

“Everything alright, darlin’?” he asks concerned. It gives you goosebumps the way he’s always so protective, so careful of you.

“Umm-I’m fine, it’s just my car. My check engine light came on just now, and a few minutes ago I couldn’t even get it to start,” you respond back carefully with furrowed brows.

“Oh, shit. That ain’t good. You need a ride home? I can come get you-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “No, no. You’re at work, and my car came back on.”

“Darlin’, I don’t care that I’m at work. I don’t want ya drivin’ if it ain’t safe,” he says with a serious tone. You can tell he’s getting worked up, the way his breath falters and his sighs come out deep and clipped.

“Joel, really. I’m not that far from campus. I can make it home. Promise,” you respond with a more lighthearted response, hoping that Joel will settle with that answer.

“I don’t know if-”

You cut him off again. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll make it home,” you push.

You hear a long sigh and you can visually see him running his thick fingers through his patchy salt and pepper scruff. The vision of it makes warmth spread against your thighs as you squeeze your legs shut tight. “Fine, but I’m lookin’ at your car tomorrow and fixin’ it. S’not safe for you to be drivin’ it with your check engine light on,” he says with a raspy huff.

“Oh, you’re gonna fix it for me?” you ask with a stupid grin planted on your face.

“Mhm, gonna try my damn hardest to,” he replies as he clears his throat.

“And what do I owe you for your services, Mr. Miller?” you ask in a flirtatious voice.

You hear his low chuckle in the receiver, and it makes you giggle in response. “You don’t owe me nothin’, sweetheart. Just wanna make sure you’re safe,” he says with a light laugh. The sound makes your heart pound against your chest. Sweetheart. Safe. The words nearly take you out. He’s such a gentleman.

“Alright,” you say with a giggle. “I guess I’ll let you get back to work,” you sigh, not wanting to hang up on the handsome man that has your heart beating erratically for those gorgeous honey brown eyes.

“You be careful goin’ home, darlin’. Text me as soon as you make it there. I mean it,” he says with a serious, clipped tone.

“I promise,” you say back in a non serious tone.

“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later, beautiful. Remember, as soon as you get home,” he reminds you with a knowing tone in his voice.

“You got it. I’ll talk to you later,” you slur into the phone.

“Alright. Bye, gorgeous.” With that he hangs up the phone as you hear the line click dead. You throw your phone in the passenger seat and turn up the radio as Breaking Benjamin blares through the loud speakers. You nod your head to the beat and start to drive off, praying the car gets you there in one piece.

The glowing check engine light stays on the entire drive home, but you make it back safely. You park the car in the hooded garage and turn off the engine, letting it sit idle in the cool room. Whenever you make it through the door, you run straight into your dad as he almost spills his hot coffee all over his pressed white shirt.

“Shit, sorry dad! Didn’t see you there,” you apologize with frantic hands that steady the coffee cup in his hand.

“Careful now, I have a Zoom meeting in five minutes!” he sighs with the hint of agitation in his voice.

“Sorry, dad,” you apologize again.

Before you head to your room, you turn and tell your dad about your messed up car. “Oh, dad, before I forget to tell you. Joel’s coming over tomorrow to take a look at my car. The check engine light came on, and he’s gonna try to fix it for me,” you say lightly.

“Why didn’t you just ask me first? I could’ve taken a look. You sure asked Joel pretty quick there,” he says with his eyebrow raised and the hint of suspicion in there.

You gulp and try not to let your widening eyes give you away. “Oh, uhhh. I just thought you’d be too busy to take a look at it, and you know how good he is with fixing cars,” you shrug innocently.

“And you thought he’d be less busy than me tomorrow?” he asks with the tic of his jaw and wondering eyes staring questionably at you.

Your heart is in your chest and you feel the faint drops of sweat forming on your forehead. “I mean, I just didn’t want to bother you is all. Figured once I told you then you’d just tell me to ask Joel anyways,” you lie with a straight face, keeping your composure together.

He looks at you a few seconds and then nods, face relaxing a little. “Yeah, you’re definitely right, hun. That’s exactly what I would’ve done. Alright, well I need to hop on this call, so I’ll see you later.”

He turns into the direction of his office and you round the corner into the entryway and relax against the wall, breathing out a long sigh of relief. That was close. Too close for comfort.

You head up the stairs and back into your bedroom filled with lilac walls and scents of vanilla and citrus hanging in the air. Apartments. You need to find an apartment and fast.

The air is stuffy and hot in the garage, even though the autumn breeze blows gently outside as it carries red and golden leaves across the driveway. You’re wearing a light blue hoodie and cut off black denim shorts while you sit atop the wooden workbench in your garage. You gently kick your dangling legs off the side of the workbench and stare at the most gorgeous man working on your car. Joel Miller.

You watch the way he picks apart every single wire and car part he can get his hands on. His tousled dark curls sit slicked back against the top of his head by sweat that cakes his forehead, his grey t-shirt bunches around his thick arms every time he flexes and reaches under the hood, and his hands stay covered in grease and dirt from tearing apart your car piece by piece.

You can’t help but gawk at how ridiculously hot he is right now, can’t help the way you bite your lower lip seductively and run your tongue across the bottom of your lip in hopes to get a taste of him. You start to wonder what it’d be like to be bent over the hood of your car while he takes you from the back, start to imagine how good it’d feel to have his thick cock between your slick center as he fucks you senseless into oblivion. Can’t help the burning need in between your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and choke down a moan as slick starts to pool in the center of your lacy underwear.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asks with concern hinting in his voice as he washes his hands in the garage sink, stepping closer to you as he wipes his hands off on a bunched up rag. “You look a little flushed there,” he says as he steps in front of you, just a few inches from meeting your knees.

“Umm, yeah. I’m fine. Just got a little hot, I guess,” you gasp out, nervously panting as your jaw drops open.

He slides up to you and stops right in front of your thighs, locking his knees up with yours as his t-shirt sticks against his broad chest and bulging biceps. You can’t help but stare at him and his pretty brown eyes with flecks of gold that sneak out and catch you unawarely. You want to run your fingers through his messy greying hair, want to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him until you taste every single part of him as you unravel yourself around him.

“Why don’t you close your jaw, sweetheart. Gonna start drooling if you keep it up,” he smirks as he cups your chin and helps you close. You swallow away all the heat and try to calm yourself as he stands before you, but you can’t. He’s too much, too fucking much.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” you say flirtatiously as you bat your long eyelashes at him, feeling your blush paint the edges of your cheeks crimson.

“You gonna tell me what you were thinkin’ about?” he asks with the tic of his jaw, leaning his weight against the bench as his hand gently brushes your hip.

“I was just thinking how hot you looked leaning over the hood of my car. And your messy curls, how I want to run my fingers through them right about now,” you smile as he leans against you, taking his other hand and placing it against the top of your thigh as he gently runs his rough hand down to your knee.

“Oh, yeah? S’that right?” he laughs as he takes his other hand and pushes your thighs apart, stepping in between them as he runs calloused fingers up and down your smooth skin, turning your breaths ragged from the heat of his massive hands on you.

“Mhm,” you choke out, already worked up from his light flirting and the weight of his thick fingers on you.

“What else were ya thinkin’ about, hmmm?” he hums out, his eyes growing darker by the second.

“I was thinking…” you start as you run your fingers through his damp curls, making him groan as your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. “How good it’d feel if you fucked me on the hood of my car,” you purr, whispering into his ear seductively. You feel the bulge in his jeans already starting to form, feel how turned on he’s getting at the thought of you spread wide open for him on the top of your car.

“Christ, baby. Such a dirty girl, aren’t ya? Wantin’ me to fuck you senseless while I make you cum all over my cock. That’s what you want, ain’t it? To make you scream my name while I make you cum again and again and again…”

His voice lowers with a growl as he wraps his hands around your hips and drags you forward, ending right on the edge of the workbench as your legs clench around his back, his hands moving over the denim of your shorts as he snakes a hand up under the material, finding your soaked lace absolutely ruined for him.

You choke out a moan as he dips his fingers under your lace, slowly spreading your folds as his thumb finds your clit and circles you meticulously, stifling another moan out of you as you dig your fingers into his back and wrap your legs tighter around him.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Always ready for me. Always so needy, ain’t that right?” he smirks as he continues circling you, making your heels dig into his back as you slide a hand through his messy curls and drop your lips to the shell of his ear. Ragged moans leave your lips as he pushes two fingers inside your dripping hole while his thumb continues dancing over your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Feels so good, daddy,” you pant, biting down on his earlobe as you hold in a loud moan while he circles you faster, getting you all worked up over him. You hear the sloshing noises of your wetness and his fingers pumping in and out of you, and it’s so fucking hot that more slick slides down your center as you start to come apart around him. You’re so close, almost there already.

“That’s right, baby. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he coos, curling up his fingers inside you as he hits the spongy part of your walls that elicit another moan deep into his ear as your toes curl in your Converse.

“Joellll,” you whine into his ear, dragging your fingers against the curls that sit matted to the back of his neck.

“What is it, baby? Can’t handle daddy’s fingers, huh?” he teases as his lips ghost across yours effortlessly. “Tell daddy what you want,” he smirks, speeding up the shift of his thumb against your aching clit.

“Want you…. oh, God,” you moan as he curls his fingers inside you nice and slow, moving them up further as you latch around him tighter.

“Go on, finish your sentence,” he smirks with clenched teeth as he works you over nice and thoroughly.

“Want you to fuck me,” you whine against the shell of his ear.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart. Don’t want your father findin’ you with my cock buried deep in that wet pussy now, do ya?”

You whine out as your breathing becomes hard to control, tattered moans filling his ear like a choir of angels. “No, don’t want that,” you gasp out, your fingers tangled in knots against the back of his soft t-shirt. “I want you though. Want you so fucking bad,” you groan as he continues building slick around his thick fingers.

“Wanna put this hard cock inside that pretty pussy of yours. Wanna fuck you so hard over this bench right now that you won’t be able to stand for the rest of the night. Wanna cum inside that drippin’ pussy while you moan my name as I take you from the back,” he growls as he fucks his fingers up inside you deeper, hitting the spongy area again and again as you feel your orgasm about to take flight.

“Want you to moan my name so loud when I make you cum that everyone in the neighborhood knows just who you belong to,” he growls with clenched teeth as he presses down harder on your clit, rubbing it in just the right area that you feel yourself start to spill. You feel the white hot heat start to take over as your eyes roll back and you clench up against his fingers that continuously curl up inside you.

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming,” you moan as you bite down on the scruff of his jaw, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you close your eyes and bite back your moan as you let him have it.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl. So good for me,” he praises as you take a few seconds to come out of your blissed out daze, his fingers gently releasing out of you as he brings them up to his mouth and sucks, staring at you with blown out pupils. Your eyes go wide as you watch him drink down your cum, humming to himself as he licks them clean.

“Taste s’good, darlin’. Can never get enough of you,” he purrs as he pulls your drenched underwear back over your cunt and straightens your shorts out again. You grab the back of his neck and pull him toward you, planting your lips over his as the taste of sweat, black coffee, and you enter your mouth. He wraps his hands around your hips and slithers his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste all of him as his senses envelop you, sweat and all.

Before you can get lost in him anymore, you hear the jostle of the doorknob and the squeaking hinges as the garage door starts to open. Joel jumps back out of your reach and grabs the bottle of synthetic oil off the back of the shelf, drawing his dark eyes away from you as you compose yourself with a quick breath and legs that clash together.

Your dad looks up at you with concerned eyes and purses his lips. “Honey, you feeling okay? Your face is all flushed and your eyes are so wide they look bloodshot.”

Your blood runs cold as you gulp down your nerves and flick your eyes over to Joel, watching as he stares at your idle car as he runs a hand nervously up the back of his neck. “I’m okay, dad. Just got a little too hot is all,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, trying to get rid of the flush of your crimson cheeks.

“Oh, sorry about that sweetie. Want me to get you a bottle of water?” he asks with a gentle nod your way.

“Yeah. Thanks, dad.”

“Alright, honey. Be back in a minute.” He turns to Joel and slaps him on the back in a way that best friends only do. “How’s the car looking? Figure out what’s wrong?” he asks as he looks around the open hood of the car.

Joel loosens the top of the oil and sets it down beside the front wheel. “Yeah, there seemed to be some loose wires that got tangled around each other. I fixed ‘em. The serpentine belt looks to be pretty worn out, so I can stop at the hardware store tomorrow and get a new one. Should be an easy fix. And the car needs an oil change, so I’ll get that done real quick. Then it should be good to drive smoothly,” he says as he plays with the used towel in his hands.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Joel. You sure do take care of my little girl,” he smiles in thanks.

Joel smiles back and chuckles. “Anything for your daughter, George. I always got her back.” He turns your direction and winks at you secretly, making your cheeks turn bright red at the secret meaning behind his words.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller. Maybe one of these days I can get you to go on a date with one of Claire’s friends. Trust me, some of her friends already drool over you. Should ask one of them out. Could use a woman around the house. Maybe get you laid one of these days,” he teases as he claps a strong hand over Joel’s back.

Joel’s fists clench and his lips twitch at the mention of dating other women. You won’t lie, you feel a heavy weight against your chest and the tinge of jealousy runs hot down your throat. Joel would do no such thing. Mine.

“Nah, man. Thanks for the offer though. I’m good,” he responds. A breath you had been holding blows out, the wave of jealousy washing away as soon as he says the words.

“You sure? Wouldn’t hurt to at least have a night in with one of them. How long has it been, huh?”

“Dad!” you say forcefully, making both of them look your direction as you dig your nails into the wood, jaw locked into place. “Water?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows.

“Right, sorry. Be back in a minute.” With that he races back inside and slams the door shut.

“So, my dad’s trying to hook you up with one of my mom’s friends?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, mostly joking around with him.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. Already have my best girl right here,” he nods your way, curling his lips into a crooked smile. You can’t help but smile back at him and melt at his words. My best girl.

“That’s right. I’m your girl,” you say possessively.

“Damn straight you are,” he smirks, making butterflies flit through your stomach.

Your dad comes back with a cold bottle of water and leaves the two of you alone again, closing the door to go answer a phone call. As you let the fresh water quench your thirst, you watch Joel meander his way under your car, taking his time to change your oil out. You watch his soft t-shirt lift up just a tad, exposing thick dark hair that trails underneath the waistband of his jeans.

It takes everything in you not to go over and straddle him as he works, slipping your hand underneath his jeans as you pull his hard cock out and go down on him, taking him in your mouth nice and slow as you make his ropes of cum slide down the back of your throat. You hold back the temptation, knowing you can’t do that here. Not when your dad’s lurking around the corner of the house.

You sigh and watch him work, making light conversation with him as he puts the cap back on and crawls out from underneath the car. Grease stains his grey t-shirt, and he has a smudge of grease across his nose.

“Joel, come here. You’re a mess,” you giggle as you grab a towel from the metal shelf and jump down off the workbench, going over to stand in front of him. You wipe off the grease from his nose and wipe off his hands next, making sure you get off as much as you can.

“Baby, I could’ve done that,” he smiles as he grabs the towel from you, wiping off what he can from his ruined shirt.

“It’s fine, I wanted to help,” you shrug.

He looks at the grease stain on his finger for a second then back up at you, mischief written all over those hazy brown eyes.

You back up against the wall and raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning, Miller?” you ask suspiciously, holding in a laugh as you see the playful smirk pulling at his lips.

“Me, planning? Never,” he scoffs, the smirk planting firmly against the corners of his mouth. In a flash he cages you against the wall with his thick arms and smears some grease on your jawline. Your eyes go wide as he does it.

“Joel!” you whine as you push against his chest playfully. “That’s not funny,” you say as a giddy laugh escapes your throat.

“It ain’t funny, huh? Then why are you laughing?” he asks as a deep chuckle ruptures from his chest.

“Get it off, now,” you demand playfully as you try to grab the used tan towel from him. He grabs it back from you.

“I got it, I got it,” he laughs as he uses the pristine end of the towel to clean off the grease from your jawline. When he promises he got it, he throws the towel up on the workbench as you reel him in for a kiss. His lips are soft, plush, and they taste like Joel.

“Oh, that reminds me. I got somethin’ for ya,” he says as he breaks the kiss, digging around the back pocket of his dark faded jeans.

“You got me something?” you ask with a surprised lilt to your voice.

“Mhm,” he hums as he grabs his leather wallet and opens it up, digging around to find what he’s looking for.

“What’s the occasion?” you ask curiously, watching him dig around excitedly as his thick fingers push around old receipts and folded up papers.

“Don’t have to be an occasion to get ya somethin’, darlin’,” he chuckles. “But this is kind of an early birthday present, since your birthday’s next month.” He finally finds what he’s looking for and pulls out two tickets that have a matte gloss covering both sides. You flip them over and your eyes go wide at what the tickets say. Two general admission tickets to see Ghost at the Moody Center on November fourteenth sit carefully in your hands. You gulp back tears as you stand frozen in awe as you stare at the glossy tickets.

“Joel…” you gasp out, your eyes probably as wide as an owl right now.

“Thought you’d like ‘em. I know how much you’ve wanted to see ‘em for a long time. Took me a while to find out when they were gonna come to town, so I jumped at the chance when I saw ‘em post new tour dates. And Breaking Benjamin is gonna be their opener. I know how much you like them too and…”

You jump into his arms and wrap your hands around his neck as you thank him over and over again for the best gift ever. You grab his shirt and pull him in for a long kiss as you run your hands through his tousled curls. When you break the kiss, you stand back to look at him in his pretty face as your arms stay wrapped around his neck.

“You’re gonna take me to go see Ghost?” you ask sweetly with big eyes that water faintly.

“I’m gonna take ya to see Ghost,” he nods with a crooked smile as he looks down at you with brown doe eyes that you want to sink right into as they swallow you whole.

You pull him in for another long hug as his strong arms wrap around your waist. “You’re the sweetest, Joel,” you say as you plant your lips on his cheek, staying in his embrace for as long as you can.

“Anything for my girl,” he smiles as he cups your chin, bringing his lips down on yours again. When he pulls back, he keeps his calloused thumb trailing against your jawline, making you dizzy with lovesick thoughts.

“Hey, what’re you doin’ for Halloween?” he asks as he keeps his coffee eyes focused on you, his thumb trailing light circles across your cheekbone.

“I didn’t really have any plans. Sometimes my friends will drag me out to the bars or we’ll find a Halloween party to go to. How come?” you ask, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Umm well, you wanna come over to my place? We could watch some scary movies, make some popcorn, order a pizza. I know how much you like those classic horror movies. Would be nice to have some company,” he smiles shyly as the corners of his mouth rise up into a crooked grin. He’s perfect, so perfect.

“Joel Miller asking me to watch scary movies? You don’t even really like them,” you laugh as you hang around his neck, his left hand digging deeper into the side of your hip.

“Yeah, well. You rub off on me a lot. And besides, anything to make my girl happy. I jus’ like spending time with you is all, darlin’,” he drawls, his eyes glistening with flecks of light and dark brown mixing together to make a pretty coffee color. His crooked smile makes a dimple press against his cheek, and the lines against his eyes crinkle into complete warmth that fills the hard lines in his face. You think he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life. Because he is.

“Joel… you leave me speechless. Truly. I’m so, so lucky to have you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” you gush to him as you rest your forehead against his.

“No, darlin’. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You stifle out a laugh and bring your lips down slowly over his, this kiss more slow and romantic than all the other ones. Who would’ve thought you and Joel Miller would’ve ever been a thing? But here you are. Completely and utterly wrapped up in each other, and you just can’t get enough.

You hear the jiggle of the door handle and see the door opening fast into the garage. You jump out of Joel’s grasp and take a few steps back, separating the distance between him even though it’s getting harder to act like the two of you aren’t completely crazy for each other. You’re out of breath, still dizzy from all the emotions of the last few minutes with Joel. And he looks the same, pupils dilated and a flushed face as he looks up at your father.

Your father stops and puts on his glasses to take a closer look. “Joel, you feeling okay? Your face is flushed too. You good?” he asks as he hands Joel a water.

“Yeah. Just got up too fast from under the car. Should be fine,” he nods as he flicks his eyes over to you, the look of affection returning to his brown doe eyes you can’t get enough of.

“Alright, well dinner’s ready if you wanna stay. She made chicken enchiladas tonight, so pretty sure you’ll wanna stay,” he laughs.

“Sure, wouldn’t miss those,” Joel nods as your dad smiles back at him.

“Well, come on. Come and get it while it’s hot.” Your dad turns toward the door and goes through, leaving it open for you and Joel to follow.

Joel takes your hand in his discreetly and leads you through, rubbing the pad of his calloused thumb against the back of your hand, making you feel all tingly and giddy inside. Before he drops your hand, he brushes your knuckles with his lips and places a slow kiss against the back of your hand. You blush on the spot and smile up at him as he returns one back, and then he drops your hand as he walks into the light of the dining room.

Fuck. You have it bad for Joel Miller and you’re falling fast. Very fast.

Halloween Night

You spend the entirety of the afternoon getting ready for your night in with Joel. You shower, douse yourself in Victoria’s Secret Bombshell perfume, and pick out the perfect Halloween costume to wear. You go with a short black mini dress that barely grazes your thighs, the long sleeves hanging off your shoulder that leave your neck and the tops of your shoulders exposed to the cool air.

You carefully fix your hair into loose spiral curls and secure a long pink bow in the back of your silky hair. You apply shimmery pink eyeshadow to the hoods of your eyelids, draw perfect cat eyes with liquid eyeliner, and purse your lips after applying the shiny pink lip gloss. After slipping on a pair of black heels, you look at yourself in the full length mirror and grab the pair of fuzzy black cat ears as you top off your costume. Joel’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this getup.

After nervously driving over to his house, you now stand on the front of his porch and wait for him to come open the door after you ring the doorbell. You pull on your sleeves, your legs shaking as the cold evening wind hits your bare legs. After a few seconds he opens the door and pulls it back.

“Hey, sweetheart. You…” His voice cuts off as his brown eyes go wide as he lets out a low whistle, slowly taking in your figure from head to toe.

You twirl around slowly for him, letting him see all of you and watch him fall apart. “Trick r treat,” you smirk. “Gonna give me something sweet to eat?” you purr, batting your dark lashes up at him sweetly.

You hear him curse quietly under his breath and watch him rake his hand slowly over his patchy beard. “Goddamn, darlin’. Such a pretty little kitty cat. And that dress, fuck,” he bites out as he gazes his dark eyes over your long legs. “Prettiest girl that ever stood in my doorway, that’s for sure. C’mere,” he calls as he grabs your waist and pulls you into his broad chest, pressing his lips against yours as you chase the taste of his black coffee scent you so desperately love.

When you pull away you click your tongue at him. “Thought you were supposed to have a costume on today?” you say with a raised brow, playfully pushing at his chest.

“This is my costume,” he replies with an amused expression on his face.

Your eyes trail down him slowly. He wears a Halloween black t-shirt, an open red flannel, and dark blue jeans that form against his muscular thighs. You shake your head and pull off your cat ears, placing them over his tousled dark curls as you position it to balance on his head perfectly.

You laugh as you take in the big, strong man with the fluffy cat ears on. “There. Now you have a costume on,” you giggle as he just shakes his head and pulls you inside while he shuts the door behind him.

“Funny, very funny,” he chuckles, a dimple forming against his cheek which makes you only melt more for him. “Wanna take ‘em back now?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, holding a laugh in as you watch him examine his face in the mirror, sighing as he takes in the fuzzy ears atop his head.

“I look ridiculous,” he groans, crossing his arms over his chest as his biceps pull at the red flannel, making you anxious to curl up against them on the couch.

“No, you’re adorable,” you respond, lingering your hand against his soft t-shirt as you curl your hand around it.

“Don’t think so, darlin’. That’s all you. You gorgeous girl,” he says with a low drawl, his caramel eyes honing in as he backs you up against the wooden staircase, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. Before he leans in, the front door twists open and he pulls away from you in a hurry, putting as much distance between the two of you before Sarah walks in.

Your eyes grow wide as you weren’t expecting her to be here tonight. Sarah gasps as her eyes flick from you to Joel, clearly confused on what’s going on. Her long curls fall over her shoulders as she stands in a Cowboys jersey and black yoga pants with war paint smeared across her cheeks.

She says your name with questions ringing in her tone. “What are you doing here? On Halloween? Shouldn’t you be at a party or something?” she asks as she looks over your outfit carefully, her eyes going over to Joel as she takes in the cat ears that sit perched atop his head.

“Uh dad, why are you wearing those?” she asks as a giggle sounds loudly across the lit up hall.

He throws the ears off and hands them back to you, running a hand through his messy curls as he works to stay composed. “Don’t worry about it,” he says defensively. “And she came over so I could work on her car,” he confirms.

“But you just fixed her car a few days ago?” she says with raised brows, her eyes flicking back and forth between you and him.

“Uhhh yeah. But the light came back on this morning, so I brought it over. Joel said he could take a look real quick. I was just about to head back out. Shouldn’t take too long,” you say with a calm, collected demeanor, giving nothing away.

She eyes you both suspiciously and finally nods. “Okay then. Whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “But anyways, look at you! That outfit is so hot, my dad would never let me wear anything like that,” she pouts, crossing her arms over the orange jersey as it scrunches up underneath her.

“Maybe when you’re thirty,” he teases. She just shakes her head and sticks her tongue out at him. He chuckles out a deep laugh in response.

“Whateverrrrr,” she drawls out. She turns back to you and beams her pearly white smile as her curls bounce up and down as she moves. “Bet you’ve got all the boys wrapped around your finger in that outfit,” she smirks out. Joel’s eyes grow a shade darker as he focuses on you, trying his best not to say a word in response.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe just one,” you smirk, your eyes flicking over to his brown irises as you face Sarah again, careful not to give anything away.

“Oooooo you have a boyfriend? Why haven’t I met him? Is he cute? Is he a good kisser?!” she yells excitedly as she hounds you for information.

“Sarah!” Joel warns, telling her to calm down as his eyes narrow over her.

“Sorry,” she whines, giving you a small smile as you return one to her.

“What are you doin’ back here? Thought you were goin’ to your friend’s to go trick r treatin’?” he asks with raised brows, hands on his hips as his jaw clenches up.

“I am. Just forgot to grab my purse,” she says as she reaches around you and grabs her purple over the shoulder purse and heads back to the door. “Alright, heading back out. Guess I’ll see you sometime soon?” she asks as she looks over at you behind her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will,” you nod her way, waving a quick goodbye to her.

“Sarah?” Joel calls before she heads out the door.

“Yeah?” she asks before closing the door.

“Not too late, alright?” Joel says with his brows furrowed together.

“Yeah, be back before midnight,” she promises.

“Sarah?” he calls out again, making her groan at the name.

“Huh?”

“Love you,” he says softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his face relaxes into happiness.

She smiles gently and nods. “Love you too, dad.” With that she closes the door and runs off to the burgundy Cadillac that awaits her out front.

You can’t help but smile at Joel, butterflies flitting through your stomach as you take in his soft side. He’s always so careful and gentle with Sarah, always telling her how much he loves her. He’s such a softie, and you can’t help but fall for him even more as you watch him.

“What?” he asks as he snakes his arms around your waist, backing you up against the stairwell again.

“You’re such a softie,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck while you run your fingers through the scruff on his neck.

“Only for Sarah and you,” he grins, dropping his lips down to yours as you drink him in again, feeling every surface of his plush lips against yours.

He breaks the kiss after a few seconds and pulls you into the living room. “C’mon. I’ll get the movie started then I’ll call in a pizza for us. Pepperoni?” he asks as he leads you over to the cream colored couch and sits you down against the soft cushions.

“Pepperoni,” you nod. He turns on the tv and pulls his phone out, heading into the kitchen as he calls Pizza Hut and places an order to be delivered to the house.

You take in your surroundings of the darkened room. Vanilla candles sit sprawled against the glass coffee table, the large display of the tv glows in the near distance as the menu comes up for the movie Scream. You hear Joel in the other room hang up the phone as he places it down on the counter.

“You want some popcorn, baby?” he asks from the other room, his voice carrying into the living room like a song you want to put on repeat.

“Mhm and a Dr. Pepper, please,” you call back.

“I gotcha, baby. Be right there.”

When the popcorn is done popping and the cans of soda are taken out of the fridge, he joins you on the couch and places one hand on your thigh as the other one presses play on the remote, making the movie hum to life as the beginning titles show across the lit up screen.

You take a sip of Dr. Pepper and pop some popcorn into your mouth as the buttery taste slides down your throat conveniently. You curl your legs onto the couch and fold yourself against Joel, letting your arms wrap around him as his arm flexes behind you. He pulls you tight to his side as his hand runs gently up and down your arm, causing your body to fully relax against him as you breathe in his cologne and woodsy scent. He smells like a piece of heaven, your piece of heaven.

He takes a drink of his Dr. Pepper and places it on the coffee table, leaning back into you as he adjusts himself into the back of the cushions and lays a soft kiss against the top of your head, making you melt beneath him.

When the scene of Ghostface asking Casey what her favorite scary movie is comes up, Joel mimics his voice and asks you the same thing in a more southern, non scary tone. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asks mysteriously as you giggle into his chest.

“You should know this one,” you answer back, eyes flicking up to his as he looks you over carefully before responding.

“Halloween,” he answers automatically.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner,” you yell out, pulling a laugh from deep within his chest as you hear it rumble against your ear.

“Knew it,” he says proudly. “And what’s mine?”

You lay your head in his lap and look up at him, deep brown eyes staring down at you as he awaits your answer. He’s so pretty that it physically hurts. “Joel, The Lord of the Rings does not count as a scary movie,” you laugh out as he smiles down at you.

“Sure it does. It has spiders, orcs, dark themes.”

You push his chest playfully. “It’s fantasy. This is a scary movie,” you remark as you point to the tv, watching Ghostface chase his victim across the yard.

“Yeah, well. Still,” he vocalizes with a sigh. “Would you watch all of ‘em with me?” he asks faintly, his chocolate eyes glazing down to yours.

You turn to him and nod. “Of course I would. I’d watch amything with you,” you reply with a smile.

The corners of his lips curl up into a soft smile and he leans down and kisses you without holding back at all. He tangles his fingers in your curls and you open your mouth up, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth as he finds your tongue, dancing around as you drink down the taste of him slowly, passionately.

One hand slides down to your thigh as he grazes calloused fingers up and down your inner thigh, making you breathe heavier as he bites at your lower lip, heating up the room as the two of you start to get lost in each other. His hand reaches up, up, gently sliding the edge of your dress up your thigh, working his way nice and slow to where he wants to be. To your aching center that yearns for his touch.

Before he can make it any further, the doorbell rings, forcing the two of you apart as you lift up off his lap. He sighs as he pushes off the couch, muttering something under his breath that sounds like a complaint of interrupting him when he was busy with you. You giggle at his ramblings and wait till he comes back.

You hear the exchange of pizza and money and can smell the fresh cheese and pepperoni that wafts through the air of the dark living room. After another minute, Joel comes in and sets the pizza on the coffee table, telling you to eat up. You grab a slice and take a bite, letting the warm goodness fill your stomach as you set your eyes on the movie again, trying to keep focus on that instead of the handsome menace of a man that sits next to you.

“So, what’s so attractive about a killer that wears a mask? I don’t get it. With all the viral videos of masked men goin’ around, I don’t get the fuss. I even catch Sarah’s friends talking ‘bout it sometimes.” Joel shakes his head and takes another bite out of his pepperoni slice.

You giggle in response. “I don’t know. Guess that’s kind of a part of the dark romance culture now and can be kinda thrilling? A masked man in the bedroom. I mean, I get why they like it. It’s just something new and intriguing, a little dangerous, exciting even…” You stop there, not wanting to give away that you too might have a mask kink.

“Oh, is that right?” Joel smirks deviously, one of his eyebrows rising higher as he looks directly at you. “You into that shit, too?” he asks curiously as he takes his last bite, lapping his tongue along his lower lip and wiping away the last evidence of red sauce from his mouth. You try your best not to bite your lip, wanting to lick every single scrap of sauce off him slowly.

“I mean, I get the hype. Guess it would be kind of hot,” you blush, looking down at your lap to hide the crimson of your cheeks.

“I knew it,” he says as he claps a big hand on his thigh in knowing. “So you’re saying if I ever bought one of those dumb masks, you’d want me to wear it in the bedroom?” he asks as his eyebrows go up curiously while his hand digs into the back of the couch forcefully.

“I think I’d just prefer to see your handsome face, Joel. Besides, I don’t see you doing that anyways,” you laugh and hit him playfully in the shoulder.

“You’re right, darlin’. Don’t think I’d do that either,” he chuckles.

“But,” you lean into his chest and press your glossy lips to the shell of his ear seductively. “Think I’d let you put me in some handcuffs though,” you purr out as you tug on his earlobe and pull back with a sly smirk on your face.

You see the way his pupils expand and the way his chest rises and falls deeper as the blood flows thicker in the veins of his neck. You see the way he adjusts himself on the couch and clears his raspy throat. You started something, and now he’ll have to finish it.

You smile to yourself triumphantly and turn to face the tv, scooting up to the edge as you reach for your Dr. Pepper and take a refreshing sip, setting it back down on the glass coffee table when you’re done.

You hear Joel’s voice come out raspy and deep behind you. “Is that right, sweetheart? You’d let me handcuff those pretty wrists to my headboard?”

You squirm on the edge of the couch and press your legs together, feeling the heat start in your center like a volcano that’s about to rupture. “Mhmm,” you hum out carefully, trying to suppress a moan from coming out of your throat.

“Hmmm.” He leans over and presses his lips against the shell of your ear, his hot breath breathing down your neck and making you feel things you can’t control. “Think I need to go buy a pair of handcuffs then, sweetheart. Show you all the ways I can make you cum while you’re tied to my bed. What do ya think of that, huh? Sounds… erotic as hell,” he whispers darkly in your ear, leaving you panting for more as you keep your eyes focused on the movie on the big screen, watching Ghostface run down the stairs after his next victim mercilessly. He presses a gentle kiss against your cheek and scoots back into the couch, leaving you breathless and wanting.

Just when you think he’s done teasing you, he starts playing with your pink ribbon and runs his hands through your long waves, making your heartbeat gallop like the hooves of a racing Clydesdale against his touch.

“Such a pretty pink ribbon in your hair, baby,” he teases, starting to tug on your hair harder now as he pulls lightly on the curls.

“Mhm, it is,” you reply with a breath held.

“You know I love when you do your hair like this, in these curls. So long and soft to the touch. Can easily do this.” He tugs your head back and pushes you down into the couch. Your hands grip the side of the couch while your ass is up in the air, exposing all for Joel to see.

You feel his hands raise your skirt up to your hips, exposing the meaty flesh of your ass as you feel the cool air brush against the backs of your bare thighs. You hear Joel hum out in approval as he fixes his massive hands over your ass, one hand trailing down as his fingers brush the soaked material of your lace which makes a groan escape your lips.

“White lace, huh? Looks s’good on you, sweetheart. Already so wet for me, ain’t ya? Look at you drip, so fuckin’ wet, baby. Goddamn,” he whistles as he takes his thumb and trails a long line down your center, gathering more slick against the material. You whine out and he chuckles lightly.

“S’right, baby. Gonna make you really whine in a minute,” he murmurs as he slides the wet lace down your legs, gently unclasping your black heels and dropping them to the floor as he unhooks the lace from around your ankles and disposes them on the ground, leaving you completely bare for him to look at.

He slides his calloused thumb over your wetness, and you shiver with need. “Joel, please,” you beg, another whine purring out of you as you feel the pad of his thumb ghost across your clit, leaving you with a pent up cry in your chest.

“What do ya need, baby? Tell me,” he asks, barely touching your folds with the tops of his fingertips which makes you clench up over nothing.

“Need your fingers, your mouth,” you beg, your voice high-pitched from want. With need.

“That so, darlin’?” he teases as he spreads your folds with the tips of his index and middle finger, sliding them up until you can feel them pressed against your clit, drawing slow, meticulous circles as you hear the wetness gathering on his fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as you dig your fingers into the side of the couch, clawing your light pink fingernails as a way to get ahold of yourself before you’re lost into a sea of lust.

“S’right, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need,” he coos.

Before he takes it any further, he drops his hand from your center and lays back against the couch, leaving you out of breath and waiting. “Why’d you stop?” you whine as you turn in the direction he’s in and see him smirking up at you with trouble written all over his face.

“C’mere,” he calls as he curls his index finger in his direction, beckoning you to come over to him.

You look questionably at him and raise a brow. “What?” you ask as you slowly scoot your legs over his, dropping down on his hips carefully.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Not there, sweetheart. Up here,” he smirks as he points to his face. Your eyes go wide at the meaning.

“You want me to…” you trail off, unable to finish your sentence.

“S’right. Want you to sit on my face. C’mon now,” he smirks, a devilish grin taking over his face as his eyes grow dark. He places his hands on your hips as he slides you up his broad chest, stopping just before you get to his neck. You pause right there, blushing as all of a sudden you get extremely nervous.

“Joel…” you choke out, unable to finish your sentence.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he says gently, lifting your dress above your hips as it exposes your bareness for him. He drags his eyes down your center and licks his lips, his eyes blown out as you feel his breath pick up beneath his chest. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. Drippin’ and screamin’ my name,” he groans as his eyes devour you in full. “C’mon now. Sit on my face,” he demands.

You gulp and scoot your hips up, hovering just above his mouth as you stay there, nervous and turned on at the same time.

“I didn’t say hover, sweetheart. I said sit,” he demands, digging his hands into your hips as he tries to lower you down, but you hold back, afraid to crush him.

“But won’t I crush you?” you ask with your breath caught in your throat.

“The only thing that’s gonna crush me is if you don’t sit the fuck down and ride on my face. Now sit!” he growls as he forces your weight down on top of him, the curls above your mound sitting atop his curved nose as he breathes you in deeply.

He inhales your savoury scent and drags his rough tongue all the way from your dripping hole to the tops of your folds, catching the end of your clit as you whine out with need.

“Goddamn, baby. Taste and smell s’good, darlin’. Hold on tight. Not gonna stop till I make you cum all over my face, not gonna stop till you moan my name, not gonna stop till you’re all mine,” he growls as he hooks his arms around your thighs and dives back in.

He slowly drags his tongue over all of you, slotting himself between your folds and lapping meticulous circles around your puffy clit. You feel more slick spill out of you and feel him take your bundle of nerves into his mouth, sucking and slurping as every single nerve ending comes alive against his mouth. When he releases, he shoves his tongue into your wet hole, plunging into your core as you vibrate and fall apart against him.

You twist your fingers into his tousled curls and moan his name with a lull, lost in complete bliss as he works his tongue up and down up and down, making the room foggy with the smell of your arousal and the loud moans you’re giving him. “Joellll, fuck,” you moan as you pull at his hair, sliding yourself up and down his mouth as you ride his face exactly like he wants you to.

He groans at your movements, groans at the way you tug on his curls as his tongue works and works to make you fall apart around him. He slaps your ass hard and digs his nails into your thighs as he speeds up his hot tongue.

He’s pulling, sucking, munching at your clit as you feel the building orgasm. You feel it start in your spine, sliding down to rest in the pit of your stomach as you’re almost there, feel it about to take flight as your toes curl and your fingers slip deeper into his wild locks. He knows you’re close, knows exactly what he’s doing. He can’t speak, too far gone in pleasuring you with his mouth, too deep with sucking your throbbing bundle of nerves again and again as his nail beds prod into your flesh.

He loves to feel you come apart, loves to taste your arousal drip down his throat, loves to hear you moan and thrive while you’re about to come undone, and loves when you pull his hair and moan his name while he has his way with you.

You grind your pussy against his mouth, feel how soaked you’re getting him, and it just makes you that much closer to spilling yourself all over him. You feel him groan against your folds, hear him practically whisper the words into your ear as he licks and sucks you repeatedly into his drooling mouth.

Atta girl. There ya go.

Say my name, sweetheart.

C’mon. Give it to me. That’s a good fuckin’ girl.

He pulls your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks hard, setting off every single nerve ending in your body. He sucks nice and slow and you feel yourself fall apart right there on his hot tongue. You roll your hips and feel the heat slide down your body as you clench over nothing and spill yourself all over his mouth, hearing his groan as he laps up all your slick while you fist his hair roughly through your fingers.

You take a minute to let your panting die out and wait for your body to come back down to earth after your intense face riding orgasm. When you slide back to rest on his chest, you see just how drenched and glistening his mouth and beard are from all your slick and cum. And fuck is it hot.

He smiles up at you as he catches his breath, his blown out pupils relaxing into pure brown warmth as he watches you with admiration on his face. It’s probably the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Rode me s’good, baby. Love the taste of you,” he hums, his crows feet crinkling up at the corners of his eyes as you get lost in those pools of warm honey.

“Yeah, well, I have an excellent instructor with an experienced tongue,” you purr, winking down at him with a big smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles and responds, “Always happy to put my tongue to good use. Especially for you.”

You bite your lower lip and grin down at him, completely entranced by him. You’re so lucky, so fucking lucky. The luckiest girl in the world.

You shift off him and start to turn the other way as you move your legs away from his chest. Before you can crawl to the other side of the couch, he grabs your calves and pulls you back toward him. “Now where do you think you’re goin’, sweetheart?” he asks with an edge to his voice.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask as his large hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you back up to him as he tangles you around the roots of him, firmly planting you to his chest.

“M’not done with you yet, baby girl. You’re gonna give me another one,” he purrs, his deep voice thundering out of his chest like a bear ready to attack.

“Another one? But I’m… I’m so sensitive and…”

He shuts you up quick. “No, you’re not too sensitive. I know what you can handle, and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it like the good girl I know you are,” he growls as he drags you back up to him, hovering just over the edge of his mouth as you feel his hot breath connect with your wetness that’s already dripping for him again.

Fuck.

He wraps his strong arms around your hips and tugs you down where your folds are connecting with his plush lips, and the feeling is already overwhelming. But you need it, need him. You suck in a breath as he licks a long stripe up the entirety of you and you moan out for more.

“Need you so bad, daddy. Please,” you beg, digging your hands into the thighs of his dark jeans as your nails embed in him.

“I’m gonna give it to ya, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna lick every inch of that pretty pussy,” he purrs as he licks another stripe up your folds, spreading you out to devour your needy clit.

You groan out and dig into his jeans, needing something to latch onto. When you open your eyes and look down, you see his bulge pressed against the thick fabric of his jeans, begging to be released.

You take your hand and grab around his thickness, working him through the denim of his pants. You hear him groan under your touch and bite your lip at the idea that dances through your mind. You’re going to sixty-nine with him. This is what’s going to send you over the edge.

You carefully unzip his zipper and free his bulging erection, taking him in your hand as you see the precum release from his slit and lap over the edges of his tip, working your hand nice and slow over him to spread the precum over his entirety.

His skin’s soft in your hand as you slide it back and forth over his large length, feeling the thick veins that spider around him that end just underneath the tip of his head. His head is red and swollen and screaming for you to taste him, and you’re happy to oblige.

Just as you meet your lips at his head and slide your tongue across his drenched tip, he shutters underneath you and lifts your hips just enough to speak as you feel the salty precum slide down your throat all hot and bubbly like.

“Fuck, baby. What’re you doin’?” he says with clenched teeth as you squeeze his cock, gliding your hand up and down his shaft as you turn to face him, smirking down at him with a devilish grin forming on your lips.

“What do you mean what am I doing? Isn’t it obvious? We’re sixty-nining,” you purr, licking your lower lip as you watch his pupils blow out into big black pits.

“Sixty-nine, is that right? You’re a dirty girl, kitty cat,” he smirks as he takes his index and middle fingers and pushes them inside you nice and slow, curling his fingers up to hit that spongy soft spot that makes you clench up against him and moan out slowly.

“That’s right, right there. That feel good?” he asks as you bite your lip and nod at him, choking out another moan as he curls his fingers higher, setting a wildlife throughout your entire core.

“Yes, daddy. Feels incredible,” you groan as you rock against his fingers, letting your own hand twist up and down his hard, wet length in your hand. You want to taste him, now.

“Fuckin’ sixty-nine. And with the prettiest girl in the world? Shit, baby. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger like that pretty pink bow in your hair,” he says with a gentle laugh that sounds a little like unbelief in his voice.

You giggle out a laugh as you stare at him as he smiles up at you between your legs. “Got you wrapped around my finger, do I?”

“Mhm, that’s right, sweetheart. All mine,” he says with a crooked grin curling up over his lips, sending your heart into overdrive.

“All yours,” you confirm with a soft smile.

He takes a minute to look at you, warm eyes focused on your face softly. Then his eyes shift into something dark and carnal as he brings you back down to his mouth.

“Well, go on, darlin’. I’ll take care of this needy pussy while you show me how good you can suck my cock,” he smirks, letting his fingers release from you as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down on him again. You choke out a moan as his tongue presses deep into your folds and up your dripping hole.

You focus back on his hard cock in front of you and go back down, circling his head as you lap up his salty precum and then dive down on him, taking his long length in your mouth as your hand slides up and down him slowly, savouring his taste on your tongue.

You take him as far in your mouth as you can, making sure you hit the back of your throat and choke on him while tears spill down your face as you take him deep in your throat over and over again.

You hear his moans fill the room as his tongue circles your clit, hearing your own moans get washed out by the sound of you gagging on his thick cock as your spit drips down his length and into the coarse hairs that cover his base.

The wet, sticky, messy sounds of Joel eating you out and the gagging sounds of you deep throating his massive cock again and again mix together, forming a wet, harmonious melody that reverberates off each other. It causes more slick to slide down your center as he licks and sucks and pulls on your needy clit. It’s too much, too fucking hot. This is the best, most intimate thing you’ve ever done. But you have a feeling this won’t be the end of it because he’ll want more, you’ll want more. It’s only going to get hotter, more primal, more possessive as you continue.

Joel Miller may be a fucking menace, but you’re no better. You’re a temptress spinning your web as you trap him, seducing him to you, pulling him and making him yours. Both of you wrapping each other into a complete tangle until both of you are completely, irrevocably bound to one another. Just like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to him as he is to you. Two hearts beating wildly for the other just the same.

The room is hot and sticky as both of you get lost in each other’s ecstasy. Moans echoing off the walls as you both are close to orgasm, both so fucking high off each other that you never want to come down. You just want to stay where your bodies are panting in sweat as you continuously get lost in each other’s bliss and euphoria. You’ve never experienced a high quite like this before. Never experienced anything ever like this. It’s just you and Joel, two bodies completely consumed in the other with no plans of ever slipping away from each other. It’s just Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You start to clench up, feel your walls fluttering as they’re about to spill, feel the way he sucks your clit into his giving mouth as his tongue travels up the entirety of you, covering you in his own spit and drool. And it’s so fucking hot.

“C’mon, baby girl. Give it to me. Cum for me. Wanna feel it,” he groans as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks hard. And that’s when you come apart for him, that’s when you feel yourself let go.

You release your lips from his cock and feel a string of drool fall from your lips and attach to the tip of his head, thinking of nothing as you throw back your head back and moan his name as it echoes across the room. “Joellllll, fuck,” you moan as you release white hot liquid all over his mouth. He’s greedy and takes it all, licking you clean as you hear his mouth drink you up, leaving nothing behind.

You rub up and down his cock faster, feeling him stiffen underneath you as his breath goes shallow. Ragged moans leave his chest as he grips your thighs tight and moans out your name slowly.

“Oh fuck, oh shit,” he slurs as you lap at his tip, teasing him before you take him again.

“That’s it, daddy. Go on and cum for me. Wanna take you all in my mouth,” you purr as you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing up and down as you deep throat him, hearing the gagging noises that send him over the edge. He’s right there, just on the edge. You go down again and hold your mouth there as you take him deep, feeling your throat constrict around his thick cock.

“Baby, m’gonna… gonna cum… oh, fuck,” he moans as you feel thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throat, swallowing his large load down as the salty, delicious taste dances down your tastebuds.

You work over his length nice and slow, not stopping till he’s finished cumming. And just when you think he’s done, he surprises you and pours out more inside your mouth.

You see his hand shoot to his sweaty forehead as he grabs at his messy curls, see his eyes roll back as he moans your name again and again. It sounds like music to your ears, something angelic and addictive sinking into your soul at just the sound of him cumming. It’s your sanctuary, your favorite tune in the world. And you’d never get enough of it, never.

When he’s finished sending his spend down your throat, you slowly release your mouth from him as drool cakes your chin. His cock is so messy with spit and drool that you blush at the job you just did on him.

You feel his chest heave up and down underneath you, his breathing gradually slowing down little by little. You take a second to catch your own breath, gulping down breaths of fresh air that smells like him. There’s something beautiful in the rhythm of both of your breaths in sync. It’s almost like you share the same heartbeat, something so intimate about it that you can’t even shake the euphoric feeling. It’s the best thing you’ve ever experienced. He’s the best thing. Joel is.

After a few minutes he helps you sit up as he pulls his briefs and jeans back up over his softening cock. When he sits up, he grabs your lace panties from the floor and pulls them up over your legs, securing them back into place over your overstimulated pussy. He pulls down your dress over your thighs and lays back down against the couch, bringing you down with him.

You sink into his side and wrap an arm around his chest as he cradles you in his arms gently. He takes his hand and runs it up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps over every square inch of skin he marks as his own. And this feels right, all of this feels right. He feels right.

He presses a kiss against your forehead and showers you with the perfect aftercare cuddles. He’s so good, the absolute best at aftercare. It’s always been your favorite ever since the first time he did it with you in this very living room that you sit in now. Joel Miller might be dominant in the bedroom, but he’s a big softie underneath it all. He’s the perfect combination of rough around the edges and pure honey everywhere else.

“Did s’good for me, sweetheart. Always do s’good for me,” he purrs as he places another gentle kiss over your forehead. “My perfect girl,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words. My perfect girl.

“Mhm, your perfect girl,” you whisper back as you snuggle into him more, sinking into his chest as his soft t-shirt scrapes along your jawline.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, his raspy chuckle that sounds like a symphony of guitars in your ear.

“Me too,” you whisper back.

As the movie comes to an end, Joel grabs the controller and puts on Halloween as you hear the theme song play from the speakers. He relaxes his arm back down around you and pulls you closer to where your cheek is nestled in the crook of his neck as he takes his other hand and runs his fingers through your waves. And this might be your favorite thing ever. Being in his arms. You never want him to let go. Never ever.

You feel yourself start to slip into unconsciousness, feel yourself relax into him as the darkness pulls you under. You don’t know when, you don’t know how, but after a few minutes of cuddling you and Joel fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth as sleep takes you down fast.

And then something happens, something unexpected and unwelcome.

After what seems like hours of sleep, you’re woken up to the harsh lights of the living room being turned on. You jolt awake and sit up, blinking a few times to get your eyes situated to the fluorescent lights above. Joel rubs his eyes and follows your lead, adjusting to being woken up from a deep sleep. Your jaw drops when you see who’s standing in the corner of the room. Sarah.

Oh, fuck.

“I knew it, I knew!” she jumps up and down as her long curls bounce up and down along with her, a big smile spread across her face as she can’t seem to keep her excitement down.

“Shit,” Joel mutters under his breath as your eyes go wide in panic. You try to speak but you can’t. You’re frozen, not knowing what to do or say. You’ve been caught red handed.

“I knew it all along! This is so exciting! You and dad? Oh my God, I’m a genius,” she squeals as she jumps again.

“Sarah! Calm down,” Joel warns as his eyes narrow slightly. Sarah stops jumping but continues beaming at the both of you. You feel like your heart is about to come out of your throat. Your dad. What if she tells your dad?

“Sarah, you’re not gonna tell my parents are you? They’d kill me,” you rush out with your breathing uncontrolled. It feels like you're about to throw up with the knot that’s in your stomach. Joel notices your panic immediately and does what he can to calm you down.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he urges as he cups your chin and turns you toward him, his deep brown eyes almost calming you down. Almost. “She’s not gonna tell them. Right, Sarah?” he asks as he turns to her, giving her that knowing look.

She imitates her lips being a zipper and acts like she zips them tight. “My lips are sealed. Promise,” she nods as she looks back and forth between the two of you, your anxiety slowly calming down at the confirmation.

“See? She won’t say a word. It’s gonna be okay, darlin’,” he confirms as he soothes you over, one hand rubbing your thigh to calm you down. You nod in acceptance.

Sarah calls your name and you look up. “I’ve noticed the way dad’s looked at you for a while now. Been wondering when he was going to make a move,” she laughs, shaking her head. “He’s liked you for a long time, even if he never told me. I could see it in his eyes.”

You just look over at Joel and smile at him. “Yeah, I’ve liked him for a long time, too,” you say quietly. Joel meets your eyes and smiles at you, the corners of his lips curling up to form those perfect dimples again.

“This is so cute, I think I’m gonna throw up,” she says as she claps her hands together.

“Alright, alright. Go on up and go to bed, it’s past your bedtime,” he says as he points at the clock that says five past midnight.

“Okay,” she groans. “Night, love birds,” she sings as she leaves the room and heads up the stairs.

“You sure she won’t say anything?” you ask nervously, anxiety still swirling through your gut.

“If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s keeping secrets. So, think we’re safe,” he confirms as you blow out a breath you had been holding.

“That’s a relief. I guess she was bound to find out at some point, right?”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” he says as he nods his head. His calloused thumb shifts against your jawline and he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You lean into him and get lost in his scent, in his abundance of warmth. When you hear the creak of the stairs, you pull apart from his lips fast.

Joel leans over the couch annoyed and peeks up at the stairs. “Sarah?” he asks in a deep voice, warning her to stop spying.

“Uhh, yeah?” she asks nervously.

“Bed. Now,” he growls. She obeys and runs up the stairs, not wasting a second of time. He sighs in annoyance. “She’s never gonna let me live this down,” he groans.

“Hey,” you say as you grab his hand and entangle your fingers in his. “I’ll be right there with you through it.”

He rasps out a chuckle and looks you in the eyes, calm brown eyes returning to look at you. “You want me to take you home? I can drop your car off tomorrow.”

You shake your head no. “Can I stay here tonight? Don’t really want to go home. I’d rather stay with you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. You always have a place here.” He pushes a curl behind your ear and pulls you back in, planting his lips against yours as a warm wave of peace and serenity cloud your mind.

“C’mon. Let’s get you up to bed.” He pulls you up and picks you up bridal style as you squeal out and wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss his cheek and tuck your head against the crook of his neck as he carries you up the stairs. And somehow you know it’ll be okay. Things will turn out okay because you’re with Joel.

So when he pulls you tight against him under the sheets and you're wrapped in his t-shirt with his arms around you, you know you’re in good hands. Nothing can ruin what you and Joel have. Not even your dad. Joel has your whole heart and nothing can change that now.

Tags: @amyispxnk @janaispunk @blueseastorm @joelmillersblog @joelalorian @heartstoptrying @littlevenicebitch69 @getitoutofmymindwrites @akah565 @keylimebeag @dugiioh @laurrrra @untamedheart81 @roostersforevergirl @itsokbbygrl @pedrostories

Part 4

409 notes · View notes

erospandemos · 8 months

Text

Exam stress

Minnie x Reader

Length: 2.1k

Nicha notices how hard you're studying and gives you comfort for the exhaustion.

Note: Minnie's real name is Nicha Yontararak

Dedicated to @svndaysaweek

You were sitting on your desk, frowning, with a hand on your face to prevent exhaustion from planting your nose flat on the desk. Your eyes were burning, your eyelids felt heavy, your back was giving up on you, and the engines inside your brain were too filled with rust to function properly.

Late-night study sessions were the norm for most students, especially if the competition was high. But it was all easy and done with the help of a coffee and the incoming threat. The problem was doing it for a week straight. At this point, coffee didn’t work anymore and the only thing keeping you awake was pure willpower. You knew the finals were near and you were terrified, you couldn’t stop now.

Nicha knew something was wrong. She briefly wondered if it was just her impression but really she just noticed all those minor differences in your behavior—you started talking to her less, compressing your conversations into tiny paragraphs, your movements got more sluggish, and your brightness seemed to fade away.

She wasn’t worried about you cheating, losing feelings, and whatnot. Her first guess was your health. But then she remembered what you told her weeks ago: “Nicha, the finals are coming so I’ll have to study a lot more. Sorry, I’ll make up for it when they’re finished, okay?”

Nicha walked down the corridor and into your room.

“Baby…how’s the studying going?” she asked softly, barely touching your shoulder. “I know math makes you feel like you want to rip your eyes out…”

You didn’t answer at first. You didn’t really hear her—it took you a moment to register her voice.

“Hey, sweetheart? How’s it going? Definitely see more writing in that notebook…” Nicha made another attempt, putting her head closer to you to look at your desk.

It was because you turned around and looked at Nicha, that you finally noticed the dark sky out of the window and realized how late it was. She looked at you, a bit surprised at your furious eyes and crooked frown. Your expression wasn’t as contorted as it looked, but the dark circles stepped it up a notch.

“Why are you looking at me like that…?” she whispered with hesitation.

You let out a loud growl, turning around and ripped away a page of your notebook. Whatever. You didn’t need those, they came out all wrong anyways. You were going insane. You studied math all afternoon: you got most of them right at the start but as time went on, you kept making more mistakes and now they were all wrong. What was even more frustrating was how stupid the errors were.

“Oh, oh, okay. Erm…baby?” Nicha stumbled, trying to find the right words.

You sighed and shoved your face in your hand for the nth time to scrap the tiredness out of your skin.

“Sweetheart, are you…are you mad at ME? If I need to give you space, I will, I just…”

“No, no, it’s not you Nicha,” you finally spoke up.

“No? Okay. Are you frustrated?”

“Yeah… sorry, Nicha, I kinda snapped. It all kinda stacked up—the exercises look impossible, studying the same subjects for days is so tiring, the news of the test are making more and more scared, I really need to study more, to get more of them right, I—”

“It’s okay baby,” she shut you up, placing a hand on your nape. You closed your lips and listened to her voice. If it wasn’t for her, you’d just be raging even more and tire yourself uselessly. “You don’t have to explain—I get it. Math wasn’t my….best subject either.”

“There’s this thing where I need to compute this thing and I need all sort of tricks. I probably have to see it like a convolution or something…”

“Uhhh… What the hell is that?” Nicha’s honest reply made you chuckle. Your words really sounded absurd.

“That sounds super complicated. And by the looks of those weird things on your laptop, it is. Who invented this shit?”

“We all have to do it though,” you said, defeated.

Nicha sighed. “No, no, you’re right. But why don’t we come up with a plan for this, hmm? You’re just studying for hours on end without rest, it surely won’t be effective.” Nicha took your hand and pulled you up from your chair, pulling you to the bed. You didn’t say anything and followed her. She sat down against the wall and back hugged you like a huge stuffed animal, keeping you warm and comfy.

“So how much stuff do you have to know for this exam?”

“Well, I have language first with all the reading, literature and writing. Then math, the basics are okay but then there is calculus, probability and geometry, which is so hard. Then there are the other subjects like physics, geography and history—I think it’s manageable, I just have to memorize.”

“Mhmm. Okay. And how much time do you have before the exam?”

“Next month,” you said and buried your face on your knees from desperation. Nicha noticed it and hugged you tighter, placing her hands under your chest and keeping her body glued to your back. For a moment, your muscles relax and all the built up stress dissipated. You let her cuddle you, which she was really enjoying.

“Starting studying early. Good job, so let’s divide this up…”

“8-10 hours a day should be good.”

“No, no. Baby that’s too much for one day.”

“It’s the bare minimum, Nicha, I won’t be able to remember anything if I don’t—”

“Don’t argue with me. You already know it’s not going to work. Look at you, you can barely stand up, you’ll end up in the hospital before you can even attend the test. You have to sleep and get rest or the subjects will just drip out of your ears and you will forget them.”

“I need to study more.”

“I KNOW you need to study,” Nicha sighed. “Baby, you’ve been going for so long I bet you’re not even retaining any information right now. You’re just making yourself more frustrated.”

“I guess you’re right, maybe that’s why I am making so many mistakes… I’m a bit sleepy actually.”

Nicha raised her face and looked at the clock. 1 AM. “…jeez, baby. You little sneak! You distracted me. I had NO idea it was THIS late. You need to sleep.”

Before you could say anything, your stomach spoke for you, letting out a low rumble. You blushed and shrinked in Nicha’s embrace. She just chuckled at your action but immediately turned serious, pinching her eyebrows. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet, did you?”

“No…” you said quietly.

“You damn— fine, let’s go eat something. There are still some cup noodles in the drawer.” Nicha got up, and jumped off the bed. Feeling her warmth leave your back was a bit disheartening but you really had to go eat because the hunger was killing you. As soon as you stepped down the bed, you felt light-headed, realizing Nicha was right and you pushed yourself too hard.

Your girlfriend was already putting water in the boiler and taking the cups out.

You smiled and looked at her, slowly stepping into the kitchen. She looked so focused on getting everything. Her big t-shirt flowing around, matching her striped long pyjama pants, she looked comfy with her hair tied up in a messy bun.

You were lucky to have her caring for you.

When this hell was over, you’ll have to find a good date place and really spoil her.

“Hey, don’t just stand there, come help me.”

“I’m coming,” you said and followed her.

As the kettle finally clicked off, signaling the water was ready, Nicha held the cups steady. You carefully poured the hot water into each cup, the steam rising in a warm, fragrant cloud. The noodles quickly softened. You closed the lids, after putting in the seasoning mix, and waited for a few moments.

Nicha got the kimchi out and placed some plump pieces of cabbage on a plate.

You tried to ask her about her day but Nicha was more focused on you and wanted you to rant, at least for now. She insisted on asking more about you and gave you time to think and speak. She looked at you with a smile, her eyes didn’t leave you for even one second.

“School is so stressful… and although everyone tells me it will be better in uni, I don’t really believe them.”

“Oh, I know, I know. I know school is so stressful. It’s like a full-time job you’re not getting paid for.”

“If I can get a good score, I’ll get into a good uni. Only then, I’ll be able to rest.”

“I know your studies are important to you. And I’m really proud of you for that. You worked really hard and I can’t be anything else but proud. But frankly, it makes me a little sad when you hole yourself up to study all the time instead of going out from time to time.”

“I’m sorry for disappointing you,” you confessed.

“No, no, I’m not disappointed. I love you the way you are. I know you still care about me and I always see it. Whenever you can, you always buy food for me, you listen to all the bullshit I have to say, your messages…” Nicha stopped herself before she’d get lost in her ranting. “I’m not going to tell you that grades aren’t important because I know it’s really important for you, but I just hope you don’t get too lose in your studies and forget about yourself.”

You finished your noodles by distracting yourself with jokes and stories, Nicha always had something interesting to say. You didn’t go outside much these days and neither did your friends because of the preparation for the exam, so you could only tell her about what you saw on the internet but you could still make her laugh.

You took turns to brush your teeth and wash your face in the bathroom, while Nicha was putting everything away. You walked to your desk and looked at the notebook. Just one quick look won’t do you any harm, you could look at the notes once more to make sure they really sticked. You sat down and flipped through the pages back to the start.

When Nicha entered the room, she yelled, “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m just… I’m just reviewing a little bit. I’m not going to study anymore,” you said with guilt, the guilt of someone that just betrayed the person that trusted you the most.

“I just saw you yawn. We both know you wanna sleep.”

Nicha got a hold of you between her arms to convince you to get up. You tried to resist but she was so persistent that you couldn’t resist much longer. You quickly put everything away and went on the bed, with Nicha joining you.

Her hair flowed gently over her shoulders, and her eyes radiated warmth and tenderness as she looked at you. Sensing your need for comfort, the girl extended an inviting hand. You accepted the gesture, and you moved closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed, facing each other.

Their eyes locked, and the girl gently wrapped her arms around the boy, pulling him close into an embrace. Their bodies molded perfectly together, and the world seemed to disappear as you held each other. Everything that happened that week and everything that worried you about the future. She could feel the tension in our body, the weight of your worries, and she knew she needed to help you.

She began to softly whisper sweet nothings into his ear, her breath warm against his skin. "I’m really proud of you," she murmured, her voice like a gentle lullaby. "You're stronger than you know, and I care about you more than words can express."

As they cuddled, the girl's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, moving with a gentle, rhythmic motion. Each stroke seemed to wash away a bit of your worries, replacing them with a sense of security and belonging. She pressed tender kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, and finally, your lips, conveying her love and affection without the need for words.

With each passing moment, your tension gradually melted away, and you began to relax in the girl's arms. Her comforting embrace and loving words acted as a soothing balm. And the weight on your back finally slipped away.

You laid on the bed with her and slowly started to drift away until you fell asleep.

THE END

Written, 24 September 2023

#fluff #kpop fluff #kpop #g idle #minnie #g idle minnie #g idle fluff #minnie fluff

265 notes · View notes

eds6ngel · 10 months

Text

✎ when i kissed the teacher | part two

summary: with the christmas fayre coming up, alena offers for steve to help run your stall with you. but, how will alone time between the two of you affect your ever-growing feelings for one another?

if you aren’t caught up on the story, read part one here!

warnings: dad!steve. singledad!steve. 90s!au. fem!reader. swearing. mutual pining. slow burn. fluff. angst. robin being a matchmaker. slight age gap [r is 24, steve is 29]. r has a breakdown towards the end. more warnings in future chapters! [4.2k].

Can a teacher date a student’s parent?

Can a teacher and a parent be romantically involved?

Is it okay to have a crush on a student’s parent?

Hours upon hours spent searching the highs and lows of Yahoo! just to be met with the same answers.

Wouldn’t encourage.

Not advised.

No.

“What are you still doing up? You have kids to teach from 8am tomorrow,” your roommate Amy says, you peering at the clock on the wall, it reading 11:47PM.

You groan and bury your face in your hands, letting the inevitable frustration take over your soul, “I thought this new search engine was meant to be reliable? It keeps giving me the same damn answers.”

The sound of running water floods your senses, Amy taking on the task to tackle the growing pile of dishes you’d left rotting in the sink from your evening meal. “I mean, does that mean it’s unreliable? Or is it just not giving you the answer you desire?”

You slam your laptop lid shut, resting your head on top of the heavy, black outer, buzzing your lips, “Maybe, I’m not right about everything.”

“No one’s right about everything honey, that’s just life. You’re letting the self-doubt flood your mind again,” she reminds you, your mind racing about the situation at hand.

You lean back in your chair, Amy coming over and massaging your shoulders, “I think it’s time for you to get some sleep. Take your mind off of things.”

You let out a deep breath, one you weren’t even aware you were holding in, “Yeah, probably for the best.”

You leave your laptop on the kitchen table, raising from your seat and dragging yourself to your bedroom. Throwing on your pyjamas, you head to the bathroom to complete your nightly skincare routine. However, the silence of the small apartment made your thoughts worse. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way, had these same exact questions. Although, there was nothing for him to worry about. He didn’t have the price of his whole entire job at stake.

By your own research, you also stumbled across articles of “breaching confidentiality,” which made sense to you. If you became a mother figure for one of your students, it would destroy the power dynamic. And with not many teaching roles available around the area, you couldn’t lose your one opportunity. An opportunity that you actually enjoyed.

You flop onto your bed, snuggle yourself underneath the silken sheets and try to let your mind wander into a weird dream that could never be explained. You needed a break before seeing his face again tomorrow.

The next two months felt like torture. Seeing his beautiful face, those gorgeous brown curls every morning and afternoon just made your crush on him intensify. And not only that, but Alena was improving in Math. He listened to you. Not only was he an extremely attractive guy, but he was also an amazing dad. The most deadliest combination of them all.

And you would also be lying if you said if you didn’t spend at least a few times a week scouring the internet for the answer you wanted to your question. However, with every new response, it just directed you further away from your desired answer.

“Thank you for being such wonderful, respectful and kind students today! I’m proud of each and every one of you,” you say, a smile plastered on your face. “Now, as you all know, the Christmas Fayre is coming up next week! You have all been working so hard on forming your chocolate boxes. But, I will need a volunteer to help me run our stall, and that volunteer I was hoping for would be in the form of one of your guys’ parents! So, if you could be so kind as to ask them—”

However, your request is cut short by Alena’s hand shooting up in the air, her practically bouncing in her crossed-legged position, “Yes, Alena?”

“My daddy will help!” she beams.

If there was anyone you hoped wouldn’t offer, it would be her. But, how could you deny? She was a six-year-old kid, you couldn’t just tell her no because you couldn’t cope around her father who you also so happened to have a crush on.

“That’s very nice of you to offer Alena, but wouldn’t it be wise to ask your daddy first just to see whether he can make it?”

“Oh, I know he’s free!” she says straightforwardly, “He finishes work at 1 on a Friday, all he does for the afternoon is sit at home!”

“Okay,” you breathe out, clapping your hands together, “Stev— Alena’s daddy it is! Don’t worry the rest of you, it’s all sorted now! Now, who wants to go home?”

A chorus of “Me!” can be heard from the voices of the children sitting on the rug, you walking over to the window to check what parents had arrived, and sure enough, Steve was standing there patiently waiting. You can’t help but give him a small smile as he looks at you, waving his hand.

God, stop acting like a teenage girl.

You look down and compose yourself, calling over to Alena and Harry, his mom also there ready to collect him. Alena bumbles over to you, giggling away at nothing as she cheesily grins. “Okay honey, off you go. Have a great weekend!”

Steve is smiling as his daughter runs up to him, causing him to slightly stumble back as she races into his legs and hugs them tightly, “Good afternoon to you too Missus! How was your day?” he asks, grabbing her hand and leading her out to the school parking lot.

“Sooo good!” she jumps, “I got all my math problems right!”

“That’s great pumpkin! That extra homework really helped out, didn’t it? Miss. L/N is a genius!” he beams to his daughter, trying to hide the fact that he was just complimenting your intellect as a human being, rather than just in your profession.

“Uh huh! And then me and Timmy played Hopscotch and I won, of course,” she says sassily, putting her hand to her chest, making Steve laugh. He was proud she inherited his confidence in a positive way, he couldn’t bear to see his own family turn out the way he did in his schooling career.

“Oh, did you? Was Timmy just not up to your level? Doesn’t have that Harrington magic?”

“Nope!” she shouts, popping the ‘P,’ “And then I got ten out of ten in my spelling bee! And we got to do lots of drawing as it’s Friday and Miss. L/N lets us have lots of fun on a Friday!”

“Sounds like you had a very busy day then!” Steve says, lifting her into the front seat and putting her seatbelt on for her. Alena waits to answer, kicking her feet in her seat as Steve situates himself in the driver’s side.

“Yeah! And then at the end of the day, Miss. L/N talked about the Christmas Fayre and I said you could help her out!”

Steve almost chokes on his own spit, spluttering out, “You said that I could help?”

“Yeah! You always talk about how lonely you are on a Friday without me, so I thought you could help her out!”

“That’s very nice of you to offer sweet-cheeks, but I thought I was taking you around the Christmas Fayre next Friday? That way I wouldn’t be lonely without you!” Steve says, trying to find any way out of the inevitable trap his daughter had put him in. It’s not like she understood, how could he blame her?

“But Miss. L/N really needs help daddy. Pleaseeeee! Auntie Robin could take me instead and I would still see you.”

He knew she was right. But, he may have found his one-way ticket out of the task, “But, sweetie, Robin works until two on a Friday, remember? She may be too busy.” She better be fucking busy.

“Can you just ask her daddy? Pleaseeeee!” she drags out, Steve caving into his daughter’s cuteness.

“Okay, okay,” he sighs out, “But, just keep in mind she may say no, okay?”

“Oh, I’d be happy to take her,” Robin smiles, Steve hearing the smirk in her tone through the receiver.

“Robin, that was a rhetorical question, I want you to say no. For the love of God say no,” Steve begs, knowing his best friend was fully aware of his crush on you. The countless hours of him both down the phone and in person rambling away about how beautiful you were, Robin soon picking up on the cues, and then her teasing him relentlessly about it was still going strong.

“Oh, poor Stevie can’t handle spending some time alone with his daughter’s teacher,” she whines dramatically, Steve rolling his eyes.

“I know you think you’re being funny Robin, but that is the exact mess I am in. How am I meant to stand there and run a fucking Christmas stall with her when she is the most gorgeous woman in the world?”

“You just gotta be yourself,” she laughs, telling him her signature advice, knowing that it has never helped him in the past.

“Stop with that bullshit Robin, you and I both know that neither of us have ever followed it,” he admits with a shake of his head, “Look, can’t you just say that you and Vickie have a date or something?”

“We’ve been together for eight years, Steve. You think we still plan weekly date nights? We’re almost thirty, you know,” Robin reminds him, the idea of the couple scheduling time out for romanticism seeming utterly ridiculous.

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he complains, ignoring the fact that he was one year away from hitting thirty, “Right, I’m gonna call in Lena, just make up some excuse please, okay? She’s six, she��ll believe literally anything.”

“Fine,” Robin agrees, “Your loss dude.”

After Steve shouts Alena’s name, she comes running in, feet pattering against the wooden floor, “Auntie Robin is on the phone, she has something to tell you,” Steve says, passing the phone down to her smaller height.

“Hello?”

“Hi Auntie Robin!”

“Yeah?”

“Really?”

“Thank you!”

“Okay, byeee!”

Steve notices Alena’s pitch get higher as each word was spoken, her attitude getting happier and happier. Robin had definitely told her the truth.

As Alena passes the phone back, Steve quietly thanks her as she patters back to her bedroom, him raising the phone back to his ear, “You told her you could take her, didn’t you?”

“Uh huh!” Robin cheerfully replies.

Steve shakes his head in annoyance, “I hate you.”

“I know.”

After you had gotten all the kids with their parents, it was time for you to tackle setting up the stall. As previously told, Robin had collected Alena and Steve should be arriving any minute. The school had already set up the tables for every class, so all you had to do was transport the chocolate boxes over to your designated table.

A faint knock can be heard on your classroom door as you spin around, Steve standing there sheepishly, waving to you.

You giggle to yourself, “You can come in, you know? We’re technically out of hours, you don’t need to stand around like a lost puppy.”

He puts his hands up in defense, making his way over to you, “Nothing wrong with some good old fashioned manners.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” you smile, “Thank you for coming by the way, Alena was persistent on you being the parent to help out.”

“If you think she was persistent here, you should’ve heard her in my car that afternoon: ‘Daddy please help out Miss. L/N, she really needs it,’” he says in a baby voice, upping his pitch to match the tone of his mini-me.

You laugh at his impression, “She’s a character, that’s for sure,” you reply, before explaining the situation, “Okay, so the kids made a bunch of chocolate boxes. I’m gonna sell them for $1.50 a box purely for the array of brands. My bank account is currently punishing me, but that’s okay.”

“Wait, you bought all the chocolate yourself?” Steve queries.

You sigh, “Yeah, but it’s no problem, really. It was a great way of combining learning with fun. As you can see, all the outside boxes are decorated differently, so it was good to factor in their knowledge of shapes along with some artsy work.”

“You know, if you asked the parents, I would’ve happily chipped in with a few bars of Hershey’s,” he honestly admits, copying you as you begin to pick up some of the chocolate boxes.

You shake your head, heading out of your classroom and down towards the main hall, “Honestly, it’s nothing. That’s the kind of thing you sacrifice for being a teacher. We’re underpaid as it is, our wages not factoring in this entire classroom decoration business, so $10 worth of chocolate bars wasn’t breaking the bank too much. Actual Christmas shopping is the real breaker,” you softly laugh.

There it was again: that kindness. You would do anything for those kids, anything to make them happy, to allow them to enjoy school. Even if it meant dipping into your own savings. That was admirable.

You arrive at your designated table, “Okay, so just line them up in a way that makes them easy to see. No need for any fancy order or anything,” you explain, “There’s thirty boxes altogether, so don’t spread them too far apart. The table is pretty small after all.”

“You got it,” he replies, laying out the items on the red cloth-covered table, as do you, before you both walk back to the classroom and repeat your actions.

Once you have completed your task, you take a seat on the chairs that the staff had so kindly laid out for you beforehand. You breathe out, “Now time to relax.”

Steve checks the watch perched on his left wrist, “What time does this thing start again?”

“2:30,” you tell him, further adding, “I got lucky in the sense that I only had to lay out these boxes. I know other grades made snowmen and other decorations, or fourth grade did the classic antiques stall where they get the kids to bring in old or unused items from home. And then, of course, we have our lovely outside visitors who are doing the raffle, hook a duck, stuff like that. We also have to give the cafeteria staff enough time to prepare food since this is going on until 5pm. Oh, that reminds me, I bet Alena didn’t tell you how long this was on for!”

He smiles, thinking to himself how you cute you were when you rambled, “I think you forget it was on the flyer you gave out to the kids.”

You laugh in an embarrassed manner, hiding your face behind your hands, “Sorry. I genuinely forget that sometimes you are just a parent of one of my students. Like, as I’m talking to you right now, it just feels like I’m talking to a regular guy, you know?”

He softly chuckles, “I understand. I mean, I always feel like I’m just talking to a pretty girl instead of my daughter’s teacher.”

You become rendered speechless. Did he just say what you thought he said?

“You… You think I’m pretty?” you tenderly question, making sure you weren’t living inside of your own fantasy world.

Steve fumbles over his words, “I, um…” before he shakes his head, “What the hell am I lying for? Uh, yes. Yes I do think you look… pretty.” He looks down at his lap, twiddling his own thumbs as he awaits the ultimate rejection. You can’t just say that stuff to her, no matter how much it’s true.

You blush at his compliment, internally thanking yourself that you weren’t imagining his feelings back, “Thank you… You look handsome too.”

She’s just saying it to be nice. She’s just saying it to be nice. She’s just saying it to be nice.

“Um… Thanks.”

But, now that it was reciprocated, you began burying yourself into a deeper hole: the questions. The questions answered no. You can’t date him. You could lose everything. You couldn’t lose your job over a stupid boy. A handsome boy. A nice boy. A kind, sweet… caring boy. Could you?

An hour into the event and half the chocolate boxes were already sold. You had been doing the same stall for the past two years, the idea coming to you your first year of teaching after talking to another teacher about Christmas gifts. But, it had never sold this fast. Although, you noticed by the body language of some parents that Steve’s charm and looks were playing a major part in the quick selling. But, he had charmed you, so who were you to judge?

You were out of earshot and attending to another customer as Robin and Alena approached the stall, Alena shouting, “Daddy!” Steve’s facing lighting up with delight.

“Hey pumpkin! How’s it been so far?”

She giggles and bounces in her spot, “Soooo good! Robin got me some candyfloss and I had a hot chocolate. But, I got too excited and burnt my mouth. But, it didn’t hurt too much and I drank the whole thing!”

“The sugars definitely had an effect on someone, hasn’t it?” he says, lifting his eyebrows at Robin, giving her an accusatory look.

She scoffs at him, “Give her a break, it’s Christmas. Plus, I think we have better things to be talking about,” she smirks, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He sighs, “She already called me handsome because my big ass mouth couldn’t shut up and told her that she looks pretty right to her face,” he mentally facepalms himself.

Robin grins at him, “Well, that’s perfect!”

“What do you mean?”

“Dude, are you kidding?” she asks, “She complimented you back after you complimented her. She literally reciprocated back. Girls don’t do that for no reason.”

“Robin, you don’t even like men.”

She looks at him dumbfounded, “Straights and lesbians aren’t that different, you dingus. We still react the same way when it comes to someone who likes us.”

“Whatever you say,” he replies, trying to ignore his best friend’s advice.

“I’m just saying, give it a shot,” she says, “At least if you get rejected, you can move on. I’ve had enough of you love-dumping about her down the phone.”

“Hey,” he points a finger at her, “This is payback for when you wouldn’t shut up about Vickie in your senior year.”

“And we’re still happily in love eight years later, so who’s the real loser here, Harrington?”

He rolls his eyes at her, Robin copying his action as you become free from the previous customer, tending to Alena.

Steve licks his lips as he thinks to himself: God, maybe Robin is right. What else has he got left to lose? A million girls rejected him during and after high school, that’s only another one to add to the never-ending list, right?

The event ended a little later than expected, a remaining two chocolate boxes left for you and Steve to carry back to your classroom, leaving the pot of money on the table for the staff to collect and count up.

“Thank you for helping out, you don’t understand how grateful I am. It’s much easier to sell products when there’s two people doing the convincing,” you say with a soft laugh to your tone.

He buzzes his lips and waves his hand, “It’s nothing, trust me. I would’ve been doing nothing all afternoon if I wasn’t here.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “Alena told me that last Friday.”

“She did?” he asks with a smile, you nodding along, “The cheeky little shit.”

“Yeah, I was thinking that when she said it. Like, damn girl, really outing your father’s loneliness like that,” you laugh, “Kids are so brutally honest, I love it.”

“Yeah, Alena’s definitely a straightforward kid, that’s for sure.”

A delicate smile crosses your face as you lift up a chocolate box to him, “For you.”

He takes it out of your hands, questioning, “Are you sure? You don’t need them for anything else?”

You shake your head sadly, “No. All the school does with unsold items is keep them in storage until next year or throw them in the trash. So, for food like this, it’ll get put in the trash unfortunately.”

He sighs solemnly, “That’s kind of sad, if I’m being honest. Like, there’s kids crafts here. Why throw it away?”

“That’s what I’ve always said!” you quietly shout, your voice small enough to not disturb the silent atmosphere, yet loudly projecting to show your agreement, “Like, you only get so many memories of the children that pass through this school, why discard them as simply as that? It’s like they don’t appreciate the kids personalities and only see them as future employees.” You sigh whilst shaking your head, shoving the remaining chocolate box into your own bag, slinging it over your shoulder, “Anyway, I should get going home. I’m sure you wanna go and see Alena too.”

“Wait!” Steve yells, the word spilling out of his mouth before he has time to compose himself. Just you standing there, you looked so beautiful. Your eyes so soft as they look up at him, lips slightly parted as if you wanted to question him, yet you let him continue. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah…” you breathe out, “Anything.”

Steve shakes his hands, trying to jitter the nerves out of his body. It was now or never.

“God… This is gonna sound so forward, and I’m sorry, but… Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

It was like a knife to the chest, you letting out a shaky breath as you clutched the binder and notebook in your arms, looking down at the floor as you swallowed. You really wanted to say yes. God, it was like a fire burning within you to say yes. But, you had to make a choice. This job was forever, who knew the long-term circumstances of the potential relationship? Was it really worth it to put your hard-earned degree in the background to focus on a love that might not even last?

And it’s not that you didn’t trust it to last, you had a feeling deep inside you that told you that he was the right person. But, there’s always the saying: Right person, wrong time.

“Steve, I… I can’t, I’m sorry,” you reply, trying not to let the tears fall as you explain your reasoning, “It’s not you, I promise it’s not, it’s just… confidentiality, you know? Because of Alena, if we became a couple, I could get accused of a lot of shit, potentially even lose my job. And I’ve worked a long time to get here, and I can’t be throwing it away for a relationship. I’m really sorry, but… Yeah, that’s why.”

You look up at him, his face telling that he was heartbroken, him wanting so desperately for the answer to be yes. He knew it, you were just being polite.

“Yeah, I get it,” he mumbles out, convinced that your reasoning was a cover up for your lack of attraction, “I get it…”

“Again, I’m sorr—”

He cuts you off, “It’s fine…”

You sigh out, “Well… I have to head home, it’s getting late,” you say, him nodding along, still not making any eye contact with you, “Have a good Christmas, Steve.”

“Yeah… You too,” he replies, you turning your back and heading out of your classroom, not returning for another two weeks.

You stormed out to the parking lot, the night sky covering over, the stars twinkling away as you throw your bag into the passenger seat. You slam your door shut, breathing out, the tears now falling down your cheeks as you hit your steering wheel forcefully, screaming out, “Stupid fucking bullshit rules!”

You pull your car out of park, reversing and steering out of the lot. You try to drive as carefully as you can, the rush of anger coursing through your blood making it extremely difficult to stick to the road safety rules you were taught at sixteen.

After arriving home five minutes earlier than normal, your bad energy keeping you slightly above the required speed limit, you unlock the front door to your apartment, Amy not expected to return home for another two hours.

You throw your keys and bag on the kitchen counter, grabbing your laptop and speeding to your room. You open up the lid and once again type in, ‘Can a teacher date a student’s parent?’

“Come on… Come on… Please, please!” you yell, your body shaking as you frantically search the web for the answer you so desperately require. There had to be some way around this. You couldn’t let this slip through your fingers.

Wouldn’t advise.

Strong discourage.

Do not do this.

Definitely no.

You scream as you throw your laptop away from you, crying out, “Just give me the fucking answer!”

But, that was the issue. That was the answer. No amount of wishful thinking would change that. You couldn’t date Steve Harrington.

everything got a little bit angsty towards the end, but that's what makes a good fic, right?

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 comment if you want to be added!!

→ next chapter.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington drabble #dad!steve harrington #singledad!steve harrington #eds6ngel #stranger things

218 notes · View notes

itsror9 · 2 months

Text

❗️Urgent Appeal

Please share here, on other social media, and with anyone you know that could help share and donate! With an impending Rafah invasion, the agency charging $5000-$7000 to register for evacuation could close registration at any time!

“Recently, Saed's world turned upside down. The war in Gaza not only stripped him of his livelihood, as he lost all his contracts due to interrupted internet services, but it also destroyed the very tools of his trade - his laptop, screen, and other essential equipment, totaling $2,700 in losses. This setback has tremendously affected Saed and his family, who are all striving to build their paths in ridiculously challenging and dangerous circumstances.

On top of all this, the entire family of 6 are now displaced to central Gaza, living in unbearable conditions.

They left to escape the bombardment. There's no way to go back to their home, as there are reports that it may be destroyed.

The Al Mugharee family members are Riad Sameer (father), Manar Said (mother), Saeda (sister), Reham (sister), Sameer (brother) and Saed.

Saed's elder sister, Saeda, a talented freelance software engineer, UI/UX Designer, and artist, is doing her best to support the family. His younger sister, Reham is a dedicated student in her 4th year of software engineering at the university. Sameer, his 15-year-old brother, is still in school.

The reality they face in Rafah City is grim. With ongoing airstrikes and escalating tensions, their safety and well-being are in constant jeopardy. This is why we are urgently seeking your help.

We aim to raise $60,000 to provide Saed and his family the means to rebuild their lives and relocate to a safer environment. $30,000 of this fund will be dedicated to ensuring their safe passage through the Rafah crossing. The remainder will help them settle in a new home in Cairo, where they can pursue their careers and education without the shadow of fear and terror looming over them.

Your donation, no matter how small, can make a significant difference in the lives of Saed and his family. It's not just about financial assistance; it's about giving them a chance at safety, stability, and a future filled with hope.

Thank you for your kindness and support. Together, we can help Saed and his family step into a safer, brighter future.”

62 notes · View notes

springdandelixn · 1 year

Text

With Flying Colors

Summary: Your excitement about being an intern at Stark Industries turns into a nightmare you weren’t prepared for.

Warnings: 18+ content, noncon, unprotected sex, bondage, manipulation, age gap (reader is legal), power imbalance, some use of drugs, reader is smart af but also painfully oblivious, not all things that glitter are gold.

Characters: Dark!Professor!Tony Stark x F!Reader

A/N: This fic is my entry to @ironlady1993‘s I love you 3000 dark! writing challenge 2022. I’ve chosen the trope Professor/Student with Tony and F!Reader. It has been such a joy to write this and to write Tony once again. Also tagging one of my babies, @fictive-sl0th

p.s. Belated Happy Birthday to you, my dear.

Side note: The Avengers do not exist in this universe—yet.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️

“See me after class.”

You swallow thickly and nod at Professor Stark’s words when he passes you, your head bowed down as embarrassment and nervousness mix within your veins for you’re the only one who hasn’t gotten their final paper back. You try to peek up, seeing the array of frowns and smiles on your classmates’ faces while they stare at their thesis, and you don’t understand why yours was singled out.

Seeing the professor after class, especially with Professor Stark, was never a good sign. You’ve once seen Maya run out of the lecture hall before, crying after he gave such detailed comments on her essay during the midterm exam. And you don’t doubt that you’re the next in line to receive the brunt of his tactlessness.

But you know to yourself that you’ve done your research right. You’ve cited all your resources at the back of the page and made a thorough review of all the points you’ve made about Vibranium. Yes, it was a big leap for a simple engineering student to study but you were confident with your work, and passionate even about how such an element can reshape the future.

So you just don’t understand why he hasn’t returned your paper.

“For those who passed, don’t forget that if you wish to enroll in my advanced class for senior year, application forms can be found on the school’s website.” Your professor calls as he makes his way back to the front. “And to those of you who have failed, forget about seeing me for re-dos or considerations. My office will be closed for such nonsense because my decision is final. Dismissed.”

Sighs of resignation resound throughout the room as the students pack their things and file out. You stuff your laptop back in your bag and stand, eyes looking at the door then over at Professor Stark while he stacks a couple of papers in his hand and stows them in his briefcase. You swallow thickly and make your way to the front, wishing to be one of the students to be leaving, closing up the chapter of this course.

You stand beside a desk at the front and wait for your professor at his table, hands fiddling in the pocket of your hoodie and feet anxiously shuffling against the tiled floor. There’s a subtle smile on Professor Stark’s face when he glances up at you, waiting for the door to close before he faces you completely, the grin turning full on his lips.

“Please, sit.”

You do.

He rounds his desk and leans against the edge, a file in his hands, the pages flipping against his fingers. You gulp hard, a nervous tick you’ve grown to have, when he looks at you once again, and you look down at the desk of the seat when he places the folder atop it.

“You might be wondering why I asked to speak with you.” He starts and you simply nod in response, the questions you wanted to ask dying on your tongue. “Well, I’m not here to scold you, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact, I’m here to praise you.”

“I—I’m sorry?”

“Your paper, sweetheart, was the best one out of the entire class.” He nods towards the folder on the desk and you startle. Slowly, you open it up, and your eyes grow wide when you see the mark written in red at the top right corner.

You’re lost for words.

“You passed. More than that, you got a perfect mark.” You hear his smile and you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips slowly lift. You got a perfect mark! “Your research on how vibranium can reshape the future was very riveting.” He praises. “All your notes and the detailed analysis you constructed to make it respond to brain waves just blew my mind.” You look up at him, a wide smile now kissing your lips.

“I—I thought it was mediocre at best.” You confess. “I didn’t think—”

“But you did, sweetheart, and a lot of it.” He chuckles, his arms crossing over his chest and his head tilting to the side as he looks at you. “Although that’s not why I asked for you to see me.”

You blink, confusion filling your senses. Why else would he want to speak with you?

“Have you gotten a chance to find a place for your internship?” He asks.

You shake your head.

“Why not?”

“I’m only a junior, professor. I was hoping to get one next year.”

“But you are aware you can get one even as a junior, right?” He looks at you expectantly and you nod once again. “Perfect! How would you like to do a summer internship at Stark Industries? I could really use someone like you.” He beams and you gawk at him in disbelief. “Of course, it will be paid.” He starts once more. “The company offers its employees free meals for the day and some recreation to let off some steam from work. We can even provide for your lodging since the campus is pretty far from the company and it would save you some time from the New York rush.”

Did he just offer you an internship at his company? Stark Industries is known to be one of the leading technology companies in the world, which your professor owns, and he’s personally offering you a slot within his ranks. This couldn’t be real.

“T—That’s very generous of you Mr. Stark.” You fumble, the nervousness from earlier having already seeped out from your bones, leaving you stunned yet excited at the opportunity that is being presented to you. “I don’t know what to say, professor.”

“You can start by saying ‘Thank you, Mr. Stark.’ and end with ‘I would gladly accept your offer.’” He chuckles and you can’t help but mimic him, amused at his tenacity.

You want to think about it, to weigh the options you have in your hand. But you don’t really have anything to consider, you haven’t even begun looking for an internship. Yet, your professor is already offering you one, probably even the best one, and would you really turn away from the window? Out of all the students in his class, he chose you. Not Brandon who is a super fan of his work or even Alyssa who’s basically a show-off just to grab your professor’s attention. You.

And working for Stark Industries would no doubt boost your chances of finding another company that’s equally respectable. A big stepping stone to set your career on becoming an engineer on its course.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” You echo, a soft smile on your lips. “I would gladly accept your offer.”

“Beautiful.” Professor Stark grins, pushing himself away from the desk and walking back behind it to gather his things. You stand, all the same, picking up the folder with your thesis and tucking it between your arms and chest. “I’ll give the go signal to our HR and have them email you the details for your first day.”

“Thank you again, professor.” You thank him once more, feeling elated at the sudden turn of events.

He snaps his briefcase close and faces you. “No. Thank you, sweetheart. I can’t wait for you to join us.” He says, finishing off with a wink, chuckling at the playful act before walking with him out of the lecture hall.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you haul the final box into your new apartment. You weren’t really planning on taking up Professor Stark’s offer of free lodging but after being almost 30 minutes late on your first day and struggling to get into the subway during the rush hour, you caved and took on the perk, giving up your slot in the campus dormitories and packing up your things, never to see the cramped box space again.

And after seeing how spacious the provided lodging was during the tour on your first day; a two-bedroom unit with an open-concept kitchen attached to the living room, the master’s complete with an en-suite and a walk-in closet and even a balcony that oversees the New York skyline, you mentally cursed yourself for not agreeing immediately.

You could have saved all the time you used for moving and focused on your tasks in the company. Though you’re thankful for Professor Stark’s aid; giving you a couple of days off to pack and hiring movers to help you, though you couldn’t help but feel too indebted to him. Offering you the job and then helping you move, you’ll just have to pay it off by working extra hard on your internship. Prove to him that all the decisions he's made so far with you are worth it.

You close the door and begin unpacking the last box; some textbooks and sentimental memorabilia to decorate the shelves in the living room. You place a photo of your mom and dad on the side table at the end of the couch, a small smile playing on your lips as you think of how proud they would be of you once you tell them of your latest achievement.

One by one, you slide the books into place and stop short when you hear a knock on the door. Sitting the stack in your hand on the coffee table, you make your way to the front room and look through the peephole, your brows furrowing when you see a tall, stout man with curly hair, donning a tuxedo, on the other side, a bottle of, what you suspect to be, champagne in one hand and a bouquet in the other.

Who’s that? You ask yourself and let out a breath, unlocking the door and poking your head through the open space, blinking up at the stranger.

“Can I help you?” You ask.

He doesn’t respond, simply looking at you with a stoic expression yet his eyes seem to be judging you all the same. You want to close the door and hide but you don’t want to be rude either. Just when you’re about to ask once more what he needed, he holds out the flowers and the bottle to you.

“I’m sorry but you must have the wrong—”

“Compliments from Mr. Stark.” The man interjects, voice monotone and expressionless.

“Oh. Okay.” You say. Stunned. You take the gifts from his hold and your eyebrows knit in confusion when the man turns and leaves without another word, giving your thanks to the air instead.

You close the door with your foot and walk over to the kitchen to drop the items on the counter. The bottle, as you guessed, is champagne, and not the cheap kind either as you eye the label. Don Perignon. And the flowers, there seem to be almost two dozen roses in the bundle, leaning over and taking in its fragrance. Fresh.

You pick up the card nestled in the petals, carefully flipping it open, and recognizing the cursive letters of your professor’s handwriting.

‘Sorry I wasn’t there to welcome you on your first day, sweetheart. But rest assured I will be present to officially welcome you to the company. Have a glass of champagne for me. —T.’

You knew your professor came from old money—the history of Stark Industries is no secret to the public—but you never imagined he’d spend such things on you, one of his measly students in the university. And yet what lays before you is a piece of his wealth and you feel a slight sense of trepidation creeping up your spine if you were to mishandle such gifts.

Grabbing the bottle, you tuck it in a safe spot on the kitchen counter before rummaging through the cupboards for a vase to put the flowers in. Once you’ve placed the bouquet on the coffee table in the living room, you set back to unpacking the rest of your boxes, your eyes darting to the flowers every once in a while as the scent of the blossoms invades your senses and slowly fills the entire apartment.

The door beeps and slides open after scanning your badge on the pad. You’ve only been in the company for a week and still, the advancement of all the facilities takes your breath away. You walk to your desk, eyes blinking when you see a stack of folios ready for you to dive in. It’s not what you really wanted to do when you thought of your internship but it’s definitely something you expected.

All careers would render any individual to start from the ground up. To learn how the company works and how each department functions. And if you were being honest with yourself, you don’t really mind doing such a mundane task in the most prestigious company in the entire world.

Setting your purse on the desk, you take your seat and grab the first folio from the stack, determined to finish each one before lunchtime. But before you can even begin, a nudge on your chair takes your attention away from your task and you blink in surprise when you Professor Stark looking down at you, a coffee cup in each hand.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

“Professor—I,” You blink, words stuttering, still bewildered at his sudden appearance. “I’m filing the expense reports for accounting.”

“Yes, I can see that. But what I meant was why are you doing that?”

“Oh, it’s what Ms. Potts assigned to me.” It’s the truth but with the way your professor’s lips slant, you feel you’ve made a mistake by mentioning it. “I don’t mind it—it’s nice to know the business from the ground up.” You add, an attempt to soften any blow his assistant would get.

“But this is not what I wanted you here for.” His voice sounds serious and you scramble to get the coffee cup he hands you before lifting his watch towards his lips. “J, tell Pepper to find a replacement here on the accounting floor and to have her meet me in my office later at noon.” Professor Stark turns back at you, giving you a full smile, taking a sip from his cup, and gesturing for you to stand. “Come on, chop-chop.”

You do as you are told and grab your purse, following him out of the office and through the halls toward the elevators.

“Where are we going, Professor?” You can’t help but ask when he presses the up button, shoving a hand in his pocket as he sways on his heels while waiting.

“Why sweetheart, I’m taking you to the best place in the entire building.” He responds with a grin and gestures for you to enter the lift first when the metal doors part.

Professor Stark wasn’t lying when he said that he was taking you to the best place in the entire building for his lab was indeed an engineer’s, or pretty much anyone else’s, dream. His AI, JARVIS, greeted you as soon as you stepped off the lift, startling you in the process. Though you can’t help but feel amazed at how lifelike he was despite the absence of a physical form, for his voice alone exuded emotions and understanding, making you smile when he and Professor Stark began to banter playfully.

The hologram interface that scattered throughout the room was another feature that took your breath away. How the supposedly inanimate pixels suddenly come bursting to life with one flick of a hand from your professor, how he easily manipulates it, and from further observation, he’s got complete control of it with the help of his watch and a simple silver bangle on his other wrist.

He toured you around, showing off his projects that despite being incomplete, look immaculate for someone of your status. The robots that come following the both of you as you walked around the lab made you elicit a soft giggle, loving how responsive and lifelike they were with their reactions to each action done by their creator.

But what really has you standing in awe is the full metal suit laying atop a metal desk, with electrical wires attached to it from the ceiling and a holographic chart showcasing its readings on the side. You stand close, seemingly becoming hypnotized by its beauty. You run a finger against the metal arm, the cool surface chilling your skin yet weirdly warming you all the same.

“I call it Iron Man.” Professor Stark says as he stands beside you, looking down at the coffee cup in your hand when he takes it and discards it in a nearby bin. “A fully functional armored suit, furnished with the latest weaponry that I made myself.” A grin forms on his lips when you look up at him. “It’s currently under testing but still top secret so—” He places a finger over his lips and your eyes grow wide in surprise at the information.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Professor!” You blanch and quickly turn away, taking a step back to have the suit out of your view. “I promise not to tell anyone of—”

“Relax, sweetheart.” He chuckles and walks over to you, his hands resting on your upper arms, giving them a light squeeze. “This is exactly why I brought you here, why I wanted you to be here.” He says with a smile.

“Y—You want me to test your suit?” You’re not claustrophobic but the thought of being inside such a tight space makes your heart beat faster.

“Heavens no.” He laughs and squeezes your arms again before sliding his hands down the length of it and taking your hands in his, Professor Stark walking backward and leading you back to the suit. “I wanted to try and turn the suit completely into vibranium. I’ve tested this baby out so many times and don’t get me wrong, it’s very durable but after taking a couple of hits, it needs to go back into the shop. But with vibranium, this would be the most indestructible piece of engineering on the planet.”

“You want me to make you a full vibranium suit?” You ask.

“I want you to make it with me.” Professor Stark corrects, releasing your hand and giving the arm of the metal suit a pat. “Even more, to embed the element into nanotech and have it respond to a single neurotransmitter.”

You gape at him in disbelief. You’ve only known such a feat to be a theory and that each person that has attempted to create such a thing has done everything and still failed. Yet your professor is asking you to make one with him, something you’ve only ever read about in articles and have never even tested on your own. Hell, you’ve never even seen vibranium with your own eyes.

You look into his eyes, brown orbs full of sincerity then glance down at the suit. So much doubt begins to run around your head, the fear of failure creeping up your spine all the same. Deep down, you want to do it, you want to try but the lingering thought that you would fail at this project, fail your mentor, won’t leave you alone and you’d rather do the paperwork down at the accounting floor than mess up a top-secret asset of your professor, who is also now your boss.

“I don’t know, professor.” You sigh and pull your hands from his grasp. “The scale of work has only been theorized and the tests that have been done have all failed. I wouldn’t want to waste any resources you’d give me.” Your lips curl into a frown as you look up at him. “I can assist you if you wish but to be the one to create it? I don’t think I can. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“But I believe you can and you can never disappoint me, sweetheart.” He smiles at you, your skin shivering when he runs his fingers up your arms, hands gripping down on your shoulders. Your eyes grow wide when he takes a step closer, your bodies only inches apart. “I’ll be here to guide you and if we fail, we try again. And again and again, until we perfect it. And once we do, you’ll have your name written in the history books—well, with my name along with it, of course.” He chuckles and you can’t help but smile at his playfulness.

“So? What do you say?” He grins, his fingers tapping along your shoulders as he keeps his eyes on you.

Your university had once coined Professor Stark as one of the smartest people in this generation. And if your professor has such faith in your capabilities, maybe you are capable of accomplishing such an extraordinary feat. He’s there to guide you, either way, he said so himself, and if you do fail, at least you can tell yourself that you tried.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes to clear your thoughts. When you open them once again, you see the shine in Professor Stark’s eyes, the expectation in them.

You nod. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl.” He grins widely, your face going hot when he leans over and places a kiss on your forehead.

The act takes you by surprise, making you step back and have his hands slide from your shoulders. You look up at him, eyes wide, stupefied, yet your professor seems unbothered by his intrusion into your personal space.

“Sir, I’d just like to remind you of your meeting with Ms. Potts at noon and it’s already 11:30.” JARVIS intervenes and you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding when Professor Stark steps away.

“Thanks, J.” He says to the air, keeping his eyes on you. “JARVIS will keep you company while I’m in the meeting but in the meantime, make yourself comfortable, and when I come back, we can start playing. Sounds good?”

You nod instead, the words not forming in your head as your thoughts still linger on the unexpected kiss.

“Great.” He gives your nose a light tap, his nose scrunching when he smiles before turning to leave the lab.

You remain standing, still in shock at what happened but try your best to push such thoughts away. He just got excited. You tell yourself. It is a big project. Another attempt at convincing yourself and you move to look down at the suit once again before claiming a seat on one of the stools propped beside the table.

You hear JARVIS call your name, looking up at the ceiling to acknowledge him. “Would you like me to show you where the vibranium is?” He asks.

That somewhat makes you smile and you nod at no one. “Yes please, Mr. Jarvis.” And you stand from your seat, following the instructions of the AI, and walk towards the door that slides open, staring in awe as cylinders of the element stand before you.

The work finally begins. Weeks have come and gone, and all that you’ve ever come to know is Professor Stark’s lab, working and experimenting with various ways to produce the outcome that your mentor expects from the element. You’ve only been researching so far, testing theory after theory on how the element would bind with the nanotech Professor Stark has at the ready. But each virtual attempt has proven to be a failure, having you go back to the drawing board to start from scratch once again.

“Let’s take 5, sweetheart.” Professor Stark calls from the other side of your desk after another failed test.

You nod and slide from your seat, asking JARVIS to continue running some tests, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips as you make your way to the open balcony. You’ve been on the computer for hours now, codes and holographic diagrams being your constant company. You know that you’re missing something, something important to have all the pieces fit—but you just can’t find it.

The summer breeze of New York City is a welcome distraction as you step out into the open air. You look down from where you stand, seeing the streets busy and full of life yet the noises don’t reach you from where you are, the silence feeding into the tranquility that slowly embraces you. Even the view is breathtaking. The sun is already beginning its descent, orange and blue hues painting the sky, making the buildings underneath glow in beauty.

You take a calming breath, one that you think you desperately need to help clear your mind and bring you back to focus on the task you’ll be facing.

“Enjoying the view?” You startle when you hear Professor Stark beside you, his hand resting just at the low of your back as he leans his side against the railing.

You quickly compose yourself and give him a light nod, looking back at the picturesque sight before you. “I never thought New York could be so beautiful.”

“It’s what I love most about this place.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely though?” You couldn’t help ask.

“I have JARVIS and the bots with me.” He chuckles and glances inside his lab before looking back at you. “And now I have you. If all things work out, I might just make you my assistant.”

“Your assistant?” You blink in surprise at his words. “But everything I’ve been doing has been—” The words you wish to say face away when you hear a loud beeping coming from the inside. You look at your professor, the expression on his face equally surprised and you both make your way back into the lab.

The hologram by your computer has changed from cyan to yellow and you stand in awe as you watch the image playing before you, the vibranium slowly wrapping around the atoms and binding together before bleeding around the model of a human, successfully forming the suit.

“I believe your theory has proven to be successful,” JARVIS says.

“But—h-how?” You ask, rounding the desk to sit in front of your computer, looking closely at the formulas you’ve curated.

“I kept running tests just as you asked and took the liberty of adding the power to the stabilizer. Your equations are correct but the equipment simply needed a little modification.”

You scan the tests and sit in utter disbelief as the words of JARVIS prove to be true. You did it. Although with a little help from your professor’s AI, you actually did it! You can’t help the smile that slowly forms on your lips as you dwell on the thought that it was all because of your research and the theory you created that has deemed the project to be a success.

“What happened?” Professor Stark asks after, peeking at him from your computer. “What is J yapping about?”

“It worked.” You say with a steady voice as you stand from your seat. “My theory worked.”

Professor Stark moves to stand beside you behind your desk, his hands pressed against the surface as he leans forward to look at the hologram. A smirk forms on his lips and he looks at you, a glint in his brown eyes before he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, tapping the side of your hip.

“I knew you could do it, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” You bask in his praise, feeling your heart feel full at making your professor pleased with your work.

“I wouldn’t have done it without you, professor.”

“Tony.” He says out of the blue and you look at him curiously. “When you’re in the lab, I’m not your professor and you are not my student. We’re colleagues.” He explains. “So please, call me Tony.”

“Okay—T-Tony.”

You feel a slight unease as his name rolls through your tongue. You’ve never called any professor by their first name before, thinking it to be disrespectful towards them to assume any sense of camaraderie especially if they didn’t welcome it. But Professor Stark did ask for it and you somewhat see the sense in his account, that you both are colleagues in such a setting.

“Say it again,”

You look up at him in confusion, your teeth worrying your bottom lip before whispering his name once more.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

“Tony.” You raise your voice an octave and blink in surprise, blushing intensely when he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Good girl.” He chuckles and pulls away, leaving you stunned by your desk. “Calculate the time frame for the complete binding process.” He calls out loud to JARVIS.

“I already ran the numbers, sir, and upon initial estimation, it will take approximately 2 days.”

“Then I guess we better get to work.” Professor Stark grins in your direction, giving him a light smile before turning away to press a hand against your cheek, your thoughts running wild as you dwell on the sudden kiss.

You and Tony decide to take turns staying in the lab to watch over the stabilizer as the binding process runs its course. It took a while for it to start, with both of you modifying the equipment needed to be used to turn your theory into a reality. Even with the labor proving to be tough, it was but a small feat worthy to endure as you watch each progress bar glow in success.

You watch the moon shine brightly in the night sky through the transparent wall of the elevator, making your way toward the lab. You try to hype yourself up and prepare for the grueling 7 hours of doing nothing ahead. Though after your first watch, you decided to bring along your computer this time and catch up on some reading before you go back to university the next month.

JARVIS' voice makes you smile when he greets you upon your arrival, the double doors of the lab opening in an instant for you to enter. Setting your bag on the couch, you hum in confusion when you don’t see Tony inside.

“JARVIS?” You call the AI, walking towards the screen to check any changes in the progress. “Where is Professor Stark?”

“He was called for an emergency meeting. But rest assured I would send him any updates of any changes to the process.”

“No need for that. You can just tell him that I’m already here.” You smile up at the ceiling and make your way back to the couch, looking down at the bottles of energy drinks gathered on the coffee table in front of it.

“Mr. Stark says to help yourself with the drinks. It could help keep you up during the night.” JARVIS adds.

You give the AI your thanks and pull your computer from your bag, getting comfortable on the couch as you boot it up and diving head-on to the first reading topic you pull out for your senior year.

The hours slug by and the words on your screen begin blending with each other. You check the time and groan upon seeing it’s only 2AM, giving you 4 more hours to spend in the lab. Even with the project being an exciting and once-in-a-lifetime experience, you can’t help but find the wait to be boring. Yes, it’s part of the process but you think it would be more efficient to have JARVIS oversee the project himself and inform either you or Professor Stark of any problems that may arise.

You blink away the sleepiness from your eyes and slip the computer off your lap, reaching over for a bottle of energy drink on the table. You twist the cap open and take a heavy gulp, wanting the sugar to kick in immediately to keep you wide awake before your shift ends.

You stand from the couch, clutching the bottle in your hand, and decide to take a walk around the lab, hoping it would help to keep the lingering exhaustion at bay. The stabilizer seems to be in check, each progress bar ticking off as complete before another begins.

You do another lap around the lab, looking at the assortment of gadgets and equipment your professor has laying all over the place. The suit remains dormant on the steel table, lifeless and still yet looking all too vibrant in its metallic glory. You run a finger against its steel surface, amazed at its structure when a yawn forms at your lips, having you take another swig of the sugary beverage.

But your eyes begin to droop, your head feeling all too light that you make your way back to the couch, the plush cushions looking enticing as you drop yourself on it and lay your head against the armrest. Professor Stark wouldn’t mind if I take a quick nap, right? You ask yourself but before you could even debate for it to be a bad idea, your eyes close on their own accord, your mind going blank and the darkness completely taking over you as you fall into slumber.

You dream of flight. Your body light as you soar through the clouds, swimming over the skyscrapers of the city. A cool breeze brushes against your cheek and you smile at the pleasurable sensation that ripples through your body. Your arms are spread wide, a bird basking in the aerial domain. You look behind when you feel a tingle down at your legs and you see a streak of red and yellow breaking the peacefulness of the sky.

Then all of a sudden, something pulls at the pit of your stomach and you’re falling fast toward the ground. A sense of panic washes over you as you flail your arms, trying to grasp for anything to save you but nothing comes to your aid. You try to scream, hoping anyone would hear your cries but no sound comes from your mouth. The earth comes closer by the second and you close your eyes as you await your death.

You wake in a jolt, your chest heaving as you pant heavily, trying to regulate your breathing and grab a semblance of reality from the dream-turned-nightmare. The ceiling looks different and the couch you fell asleep on feels all too wide. You’re cold, a chill kissing your skin that slowly shakes you awake, and it's then that you finally realize that you’re naked.

“Wha—” You try to speak but a moan escapes your lips instead when you feel something smooth and wet lap against your soaking cunt.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” You hear the voice of your professor echo through the room, fear crawling up your skin when you look down between your thighs and see his brown orbs staring at you, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Just as I’ve imagined.” He smirks and crawls up from where he’s kneeling, his face hovering over yours.

“Professor—” You cry and try to push him away, but such attempts are a defeat when you look up and see your wrists bound with silver restraints, the fibers glowing blue and purple with each tug you make.

“Sweetheart, I told you to call me Tony.” He whispers, grabbing your chin with his hand and pressing his lips against yours.

He slips his tongue through your lips and kisses you hard, his mouth devouring yours whole as he dominates you through the kiss. You try to move away, to stop him from his assault but you’re rendered helpless as his hold on your chin tightens, almost to the verge of pain making you stop altogether and allow him to do his lecherous act.

You gasp for air when he pulls away, moving your face away when his lips trail down to your jaw then to your neck. Tears begin to spring from your eyes as you continue to pull on your restraints. Confusion clouds your mind as you question how it has come to this, that your professor has pulled you into a nightmare you never saw coming.

“I’ve waited for so long and now you’re finally mine.” He mumbles against your skin, looking up at his blurry image when his face lingers above you once again.

“I—I don’t understand.” You whimper, wriggling against the bed when he pushes his clothed pelvis flush against yours, rolling his hips, the fabric of his pants rubbing against your clit. “Why a-are you doing t-this, professor?” You say in between grunts then yelping in pain when you feel a zap of electricity sting your wrists.

“I told you to call me Tony.” He growls and pushes himself up, your eyes widening when he pulls off his shirt, witnessing the contours of his muscles lining his bare torso. He then makes work of his pants, the soft sound of his zipper seeming all too loud as dread completely takes you over.

He pulls off his pants and kneels back down on the bed, hands running up and down your bare thighs, your arms aching and going taut from the metallic restraints when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you against him. You cry when he rubs the length of his cock against your folds, rolling the tip against your swollen clit which makes you whine and cry even more in turn.

“You ask why I’m doing this?” He echoes your question as he lines himself against your cunt, closing your eyes when he slowly inches the tip of his cock inside you. “Because I can.” He snarls and impales you in one swift move, a pang of pain surrounding your pelvis from his sudden intrusion.

You grit your teeth when he bottoms out, feeling yourself grow full from his size. You didn’t think he’d be big but the pain that radiates through your pelvis as your pussy walls clench around him tell you otherwise. He groans, his head tilted back as he stays still, allowing you to adjust to his girth but you have difficulty in doing so with your body remaining tense.

You try to push him away, flailing your legs to push him off but you’re no match for his strength. His hands push your thighs apart, pinning them to the bed, whining when he slides out of you and slowly thrusts himself back in.

He starts at an easy pace, watching himself slip in and out of you. But his impatience eventually grows, picking up the rhythm of his hips and you shut your eyes tight when he begins to fuck you fast and hard, all the same, your body jostling against the mattress, slamming himself against you at a brutal pace.

You close your eyes. You try to think this all to be a dream, some horrible night terror that you’ll be waking up from any time soon, but such attempts are futile when his hands begin to linger, feeling them clamp on your shoulders from behind and his hot breath fanning over your cheek.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart.” He says in between grunts, his face pressing against the side of yours, knees tucked underneath your thighs, shifting the angle of his cock and letting out an incoherent moan as you feel him slide deeper within. “Watching you in my class for three fucking years and now you’re here.”

You try to drown out his words, wishing them to be lies. He’s your professor, a mentor you’ve looked up to for so long. You did the work. You paid attention. You’re not the best but you’re also not the worse. And still, you don’t understand what you’ve done to garner his attention, that he'd pull you into this nightmare disguised as a dream when all you’ve ever been was a diligent student.

“Tony—please,” You try to beg for him to stop but the words drown in your tongue, turning into a reluctant moan when he hits that sweet spot hidden within.

Your body then ripples in desire, the unwanted pleasure filling your senses as your feel your body tighten. It shouldn’t feel this good, you should detest it but with each thrust he makes, with each rub of his pelvis against your clit, the only place you see going is up, soaring high as your arousal gradually reaches its peak.

Your walls tighten around him and he growls like some feral animal, his lips sloppily kissing your cheek while he whispers your name in staccatos.

“That’s it, baby—” He grunts, one of his hands releasing your shoulder and reaching down to fondle your swollen bud. “Say my name.”

You clamp your lips shut, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of his desire. But your wrists sting once more, making you cry out in pain, panting heavily as your heartbeat spikes both from the electricity pinching your skin and the man taking you as he pleases.

“Say it!” He repeats, punching the air from your lungs as he slams himself hard against you.

“Tony,” You whisper, his name sickening rolling against your tongue.

“Louder!” He commands.

And you give in, chanting his name, again and again, your voice and the sound of your skins slapping with each other bouncing off the walls of the room, filling your ears, filling your senses.

“Yes—” He growls, muttering nonsense against your temple as his fingers and cock work you in tandem.

The tension in your stomach builds and builds, the dam ready to break with each flick of his fingers on your clit and each pulse your pussy makes. The pressure he adds on the bud only pulls you higher into ecstasy and all at once you find your release, your pussy fluttering around his cock as you come tumbling down from the sky.

You feel him throb inside you, his words growing erratic with each thrust he makes. He then comes all together and you mewl when his seeds fill you up, coating your slicked walls. You lay almost lifeless on the bed, chest heaving, moans leaving your lips as he begins to give you shallow thrusts, riding out his orgasm and pumping every last drop into your cunt.

Your name tumbles out of his lips once more and you feel him go still, keeping his cock inside as he too pants heavily against your side.

“Tell me you’re mine, baby.” He whispers against your cheek, his hand leaving your clit only to run it up your abdomen and cup your tit, giving it a light squeeze when you don’t respond to his command. “Tell me.” He repeats with strength.

You let out a heavy breath, the tears spilling from your eyes once again as you try to form the words on your lips if only to please him, to keep the anger he keeps hidden within at bay.

“I—” You swallow thickly. “I’m yours.”

You stand at the side of the stage with your other classmates, waiting for your name to be called. Today was supposed to be the best day of your life, one you’ve been waiting for since you entered university. But you can’t find it in you to be happy on your graduation for all the glee has been sucked out of you since that day your professor showed his true colors.

He retired in the middle of the school year. An organization called SHIELD asked for his assistance after he presented himself as Iron Man. You would have been proud of the suit if things didn’t go the way they did, if your professor remained your mentor and didn't turn into your captor. But every time you see the name on the news, or even the image of the suit, all you feel is fear. Fear towards the man you once trusted and the power that he has at the palm of his hand.

Your thoughts are broken when Maya taps your shoulder from behind, looking at the stage to see Michelle finishing her bow and leaving at the other side. Your name is then called and you put on a fake smile as you meet the dean, shaking his hand and taking the scroll of parchment from his grasp before standing center stage and giving a deep bow.

You were deemed Valedictorian of your class. A recognition that was given to you upon the university’s knowledge of your helping hand on the Iron Man suit. A recognition you don’t deserve after Tony’s blatant words.

“You’re not here because you’re smart. Your brain isn’t that special, sweetheart. You’re only here because I wanted you to be here. I just got lucky that your thesis matched with what I was working on and it was the perfect excuse to have you in my tower.”

After the ceremony, you meet with your parents. Both of them hug you tightly as they tell you how proud they are of you. You smile at their words if only to hide your true feelings about the occasion. Nevertheless, you still bask in the freedom that is bestowed upon you with Tony being away on a mission with a band of people they call The Avengers.

“We made reservations at 9th Brewery.” Your mom says with a smile, her arm wrapping around yours as the three of you make your way to the parking.

“9th? Isn’t it expensive there?” You ask and they simply chuckle at your disbelief.

“Our Valedictorian only deserves the best.” Your dad comments, a small smile forming on your lips when he places a kiss on your temple.

You congratulate some of your classmates as you pass them by. Receiving their greeting all the same while some try to stop you and ask for details about working with the most famous man in the world. You try to escape them all the same for you have nothing to tell them, wishing to erase that part of your life, but you stop dead in your tracks when you see Tony just up ahead, looking pristine in a three-piece suit, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You feel a sense of worry wrap around you when he walks towards you and your parents.

“Congratulations, sweetheart.” He greets you, walking past your parents and pressing a kiss to your lips. You take the flowers when he holds them out to you, whispering your thanks before looking at your parents when they stare at you and Tony, question evident in their eyes.

“You’re Tony Stark.” Your dad breaks the silence. “You’re Iron Man.” And Tony grins at him proudly, wrapping an arm around your waist as he holds you close to him. “Why did you kiss my daughter?”

“You haven’t told them yet, sweetheart?” Tony chuckles and holds out his hand to your father. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.” He says, a wide smile on his lips as your dad shakes his hand. “As well as you, ma’am.” He greets your mom next, taking her hand and placing a light kiss on her knuckles.

“Uhhh—mom, dad, this is Tony and uhhh—” Your hands get clammy as you try to find the words to say. What do you tell them? That he was previously your professor? What would they even think when they find out such information after seeing his public display of affection?

“I think what your daughter is trying to say is that she and I are together.”

You frown upon seeing the expression on your parents’ faces, your dad seemingly excited and your mom, in shock.

“But aren’t you her professor?” Your mom asks. “Sweetie, you never mentioned you were seeing someone.” She turns to you, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as you feel the anxiety creep up your skin

“I know it’s somewhat of a surprise but I assure you everything is legal,” Tony says coolly, feeling no shame as he places a kiss on your cheek. “We are both consenting adults and I was no longer a member of the faculty when we engaged in our relationship. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your stomach rolls in disgust at how easily he lies to your parents’ faces. And what’s worse is how they seem to believe every word he’s saying. The shock on your mother’s face seems to dissipate and your father is all too oblivious, all smiles as the fame of the man at your side cloud his judgment.

You squeak when Tony’s hand pinches your waist when you don’t answer immediately, feeling a small wave of electricity rippling through your skin from the necklace he’s given you; a smaller replica of the arc reactor he’s embedded on his chest.

You nod and force a smile, leaning closer against Tony’s frame and resting your head against his shoulder. “Yes, honey.”

#tony stark #iron man #tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark au #iron man au #mcu au #i love you 3000 writing challenge #with flying colors #coconut bun stories

621 notes · View notes

biblioklept-writes · 1 year

Text

Stargirl (Modern!Aemond)

A/N: There is no mention of the reader's appearance but there’s heavy engineering - it is the only thing that I know besides fandoms. Also, this is purely self indulgent. (fem!reader)

Summary: The King's Landing University students celebrate the end of the term, and you find yourself with a beautiful, not-much-of-a-stranger.

Word Count: 1.7 k

HOTD Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You were not happy.

Of course, you were in one of the most sought after universities in the world, and you had worked through your blood, sweat and tears to make it here, studying Computer Science in King’s Landing University. You were happy then.

And now you worked yourself to tears and blood (literally, the stress messed with the period cycle) to end this semester. You weren’t sure how good the exams went, but at least they were over. You could scroll through instagram and tumblr stress free now, finding a new hyperfixation.

You knew you hated the loud party scene, but you were an introvert-leaning-ambivert who loved to socialise with new people, but you loved a night-in alone with your phone and laptop just the same, if not more.

Your lovely friend had been invited to a uni party hosted by the frat boys, to celebrate the end of the term exams for all the majors. Your room was not exactly the space you wanted to spend your time in, after being holed up in there for almost a month - finishing papers, assignments and practical files then studying for your theory exams. Data Structures have been particularly hard on you.

So you put on your best satin black dress, put on a bold black eyeliner, red lipstick and highlighted your face and lids with shimmery eyeshadow that popped your beautiful eyes. You finally wore those heels you had thrifted, feeling confident now that you had dressed up.

“You look like the hottest bitch in town!” Your friend complimented, blowing you a kiss. You blew a kiss right at her, feeling yourself.

“I really do, don’t I?” You smirked, raising your brows.

Now you were out of campus, having fetched a ride with one of the guys from your class. Being one of the few girls in the engineering building really helped with that. Aegon Targaryen was the host of the party, even though he was a Business major in his seventh semester, you knew him. Everyone knew him - he had a bit of a reputation of being passed around in the university campus.

The Targaryens were practically Westerosi Royalty, the wealthiest of them all, and known for their controversial family workings. They were known for having peculiar purple eyes. You had heard a lot about them, the most talked about thing being how Viserys Targaryen had married his daughter’s best friend, then proceeded to have four kids with her. You’d heard that his daughter, Rhaenyra, married one of her father’s cousins, after her husband had died.

You knew only two of the Targaryens personally, Haelena Targaryen, her mother’s only daughter, with the orchid eyes - who was a biomedical engineering major and you had one class in common with her, back in your first semester - communication skills. Apparently, the university thought that none of the engineers knew how to talk and had introduced the subject even though Haelena was in her third semester.

She was a little strange, but sweet. You loved her though, and even hung out together after you had passed the first semester. She had been your presentation partner for the class and you absolutely adored her. Even now when you were in third semester and she was in her fifth.

The other Targaryen you knew was Jacaerys Targaryen, who happened to be Haelena’s nephew from her half sister. He was your junior in engineering, majoring in Mechanical and Automation. You met him while working on a project of robotics under a professor, where he worked on the mechanical team and you worked on the AI bit with your team.

And of course, there was Aemond Targaryen, Haelena’s favourite brother, everything you knew about him was because of her. You had never had the chance to see him though, he was a history major, in his third semester. Haelena had mentioned that he had lost sight in one eye after an accident with their nephews - something involving a broken bike and them struggling to fix it and then getting hit in the eye by a ricocheting piece of rusted iron. She had said that instead of a marble eye, he had insisted on getting a sapphire. Rich people and their problems.

The party mode had begun in the car itself, you got to choose the music and played some of your favourite upbeat songs screaming with the music.

Haelena had not backed down on her promise of being there, and you were so happy to see her that you could hug her. But you settled for shaking her hand, knowing that she was sensitive to touch. She looked lovely dressed in a golden halterneck, looking every bit like the princess she was.

You, your roommate, and Haelena took multiple pictures together before even entering the Targaryen’s spare house. They seemed to have multiple of those across the city, even the country.

Your engineering buddies feigned hurt as you abandoned them to be with your girlfriends, winking at them before leaving. You danced around with your friends, and occasionally Haelena stood from her place and joined you too. Then you went back to check on the guys who you’d come over with, hoping that they were not being bullied by the other kids for being engineering majors.

When you returned, you didn’t find your girlfriends where you’d left them. Taking your phone out to text the group chat, you went away from the room, dancing to yourself at the Weeknd’s song. Haelena quickly responded that they were upstairs, and you swayed while climbing the stairs, head lowered to look at your phone. You saw a funny meme, and sent it to the group chat again. Roomie <3: Bitch stop memeing and get your pretty ass up. You: OMW

“Ow,” you said as you bumped into someone at the first floor landing, and would have nearly fallen on your ass if not for the strong grip on your forearm. You looked up to meet two mismatched eyes, one lilac and the other a sapphire stone. “You’re Aemond Targaryen,” you exhaled, seemingly forgetting how to breathe.

To say that he was handsome would be an understatement. He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on, a fallen angel if you would ever see one. His face was sharply cut with defined cheekbones, jaw looking like it could cut through you. You were stunned by his magnificence, the way his silky silver hair fell to his shoulders, his pale skin and silver chain with the dragon emblem(or platinum, you couldn’t be sure) in stark contrast to the black turtleneck he was wearing. Oh, and he’s so tall.

You snapped out of your trance at the sound of your name in his voice, which was smooth like honey, sweetened to perfection. You felt like you were turning to a puddle right there.

“How do you know my name?” You asked.

“Haelena always talks about you,” Aemond said, raising his brow. “You’re one of her closest friends, I assume.”

“Yes, of course,” You said. He still hadn’t let you go, and you didn’t complain. He was warmer to touch than he looked. “Haelena talks a lot about you too. She’s told me that you are a history major.” This is why they teached communication, ass.

“That is correct.” He said, still scanning you. “And you are a computer science major.”

“Yup,” You said, even though his words were a statement. The two of you fell silent for a long moment, as Stargirl Interlude started playing in the background, and Lana Del Rey’s heavenly voice filled your ears.

I had a vision, A vision of my nails in the kitchen, Scratching counter tops, I was screaming My back arched like a cat, My position couldn't stop, You were hitting it

All you could think was Aemond Targaryen was far prettier in the flesh and the pictures didn’t do him much justice. Your phone buzzed with texts, but you ignored it, unable to look away from this fine specimen of man.

“There’s a lot of rooms here, Aemond.” Aegon’s drunk, boisterous voice called behind you, snapping the two of you out of the trance. “Stop eye-fucking.”

The older Targaryen scanned you up and down with his bloodshot glassy eyes, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face. Aemond’s face hardened and he gently shoved you behind himself, and you glanced from over his shoulder as the staredown between the two brothers went. “Don’t even think about it,” Aemond said, his voice low and dangerously void. “You have enough women waiting for you as it is,”

A shiver travelled down your spine at the disgusting thought, but you suppressed it. Aegon’s drunk voice called your name, and you raised an eyebrow at him, still standing behind Aemond.

“You’re pretty famous among the guys, you know.” He said, laughing. “I can see why. Though, I don’t understand why you hang around my sweet sister? You could use some better company. Good company,”

“I was in good company until you came along.” You said, innocently blinking even as your smile was anything but innocent.

Aemond coughed, his free hand raised to his pretty, kissable mouth. You suspected it was to cover a laugh. “Well?” you questioned, giving him your best glare. Aegon rolled his eyes at you and went back downstairs, leaving you alone with your pleasant company. It’s just because he’s pretty.

“We should be friends,” Aemond said, now smiling at you. You forgot how to breathe for a moment. His smile made him hotter, cuter and prettier all at the same time. And he had dimples.

“Well-” you went to ask something, but your ringing phone stopped you.

It was Haelena. You answered her, turning away from Aemond so you could answer in privacy. “Yeah, I’m on my way. I’ll be right there. Bye.”

“Here’s my number,” He said, handing you a white napkin. His handwriting was clean, just as you’d expect of a history major. He twirled an elegant gold pen between his long, thin fingers. A titanium ring band gleamed on his middle finger.

Without thinking, you reached for his pen, and tore the napkin from the blank side and wrote down your phone number, and kissed the napkin, leaving a bold red lipstick stain on the white paper. You reached forward and folded the napkin neatly with the pen and put it in his black trouser pocket, giving him your best sultry eyes. His lilac eye mirrored your expression, pupil dilated.

“Call me whenever you’re free,” you whispered. Before disappearing up the stairs.

Later, you will blame the one drink you had had earlier for this confidence, but you’d forever thank the gods for making this happen.

#aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #modern!aemond x reader #hightower kids x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond x reader #sri writes

386 notes · View notes

labrxnth · 8 months

Text

Prison Break- Part 5 (Leon Kennedy x Reader Series)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

CW: Death Island spoilers, suicidal thoughts/tendencies

WC: 5350 (whoops)

Summary: You and your co-worker Leon Kennedy are sent on a mission to rescue a kidnapped robotic engineer Dr. Antonio Taylor. The journey for him leads the two of you to somewhere you thought you would never go, Alcatraz.

A/n: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. I graduated my students, I fell ill, and I had an ADHD fueled hyperfixation on a specific pale elf made by Larion Studios so here it finally it. I hope the length makes up for the month of silence.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

January 27th, 2015

You and Leon had been working together for a year and a half. Last year, you two defeated Glen Arias alongside Chris Redfield and Rebecca Chambers. This year, things were relatively quiet. You hated to say it, but it was quiet.

You were sitting at your desk that was against the wall in now you and Leon’s shared office. A crate of ice coffee was melting, the condensation dripping from the cups onto the top of your desk. Glancing at the clock, you bit your lip. Normally, Leon would be out of a meeting with the President within an hour, but it was now an hour and 15 minutes, something was up.

And with it being quiet lately, you could only speculate another big mission was popping up.

The door opened and Leon walked into the office, looking exhausted and drained. Over the past half a year he had really pulled himself together. His eyes looked more present, less glossed over. He had grown his hair out more, stopped dying it, and styled it like he used to when you first joined. He was also very proud that he started lifting again, something he said that he did all the time in his 20s.

And all that personal care paid off, because even though he was exhausted from his meeting, he still looked gorgeous. You thought he was really attractive when you joined the D.S.O. and even last year when he had lost a bit of weight and had his depressed alcoholic arc. But you didn’t know just how attractive he could be, and it still amazed you.

“Are you going to tell me… or….” You said and looked at him.

He took his coffee out of the tray on your desk and pat your head. Your eyes trailed him to his desk.

“We have another mission coming up,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat down. He took a sip of his coffee and relaxed in his chair.

Leon had told you multiple times about his relationship with the past few presidents. Apparently, President Graham scared him shitless when he “asked” Leon to rescue his daughter and he was intimidated by him until his terms ended. President Benford was like a mentor to him and helped found the D.S.O. with Leon; they were pretty close until Leon had to kill him a few years ago. Now, Leon was drained from all the politics of the new guy.

You smiled to yourself a little bit because you were right about the mission. “You know that’s just watered down coffee, right?” You asked, looking at his iced americano, trying to lighten the mood.

He looked at you from his desk, almost scoffing in reply. “Like I’m gonna take coffee advice from you. You’d guzzle the grounds if you could,” He said, turning his attention back to the folder in his hands.

You sat there with your mouth open, not knowing how to reply to that. Closing your mouth, you turned back to your laptop, typing away at a case file.

“We have to go to New York,” Leon said after a few seconds of silence. “We’re going to attend an upcoming biology summit and check in on a few things.”

“Meaning, there’s a potential virus being sold?” You asked. The past few months after dealing with Arias had been mostly doing work for the government, so bounty hunting and few and far between B.O.W. hunting.

Leon nodded and your heart jumped with excitement. It was kind of morbid to put it this way, but you loved work like this. This was why you joined the D.S.O.

“We’ll be undercover so be on your best behavior,” Leon said.

“Yessir,” you said and jokingly saluted.

“And another thing…. We’ll be undercover as a couple… so try to pretend like you like me,” Leon said and grinned.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

January 30, 2015

Ingrid’s eyes trailed up and down your figure, looking at the dress and seeing if it complimented your skin tone and hair color. The D.S.O. was providing the wardrobe for the mission, the racks of dresses they had filled you and Leon’s office.

When the racks were brought in, Ingrid didn’t explain why the D.S.O. had so many when you and Sherry were technically the only female agents. She also kicked Leon out of the office so she could help you try on the dresses and pick out the one.

You were standing in the middle of the office, a burgundy coloured dress hugging your figure. The bodice had straps that fell off the shoulder, corset ribbing, and enough cleavage to make your mother pass out while still keeping it classy. The bottom hugged your figure on one side and had a long slit on the other, trailing up to your thigh. It felt Greek and Romantic, while also being modern.

You felt like a million bucks.

“Wow,” Ingrid said, looking over you again. “With your hair and makeup done, you could probably get it at the summit,” she added and chuckled.

You looked down at the dress. “Why does the D.S.O. have this?” You asked again, clearly stuck on the question. Sherry Birkin hadn’t been back from traveling for a mission in years, and she was pretty young, so it genuinely made no sense to you.

“Does it matter?” Ingrid replied. “The D.S.O. keeps them just in case. A lot of times they’re purchased for the mission. Tax write offs and stuff.”

You nodded in reply, letting Ingrid touch up the dress a little bit.

“This will go nicely with what Leon’s wearing…” she said, mentally taking notes. She walked over to a box and pulled out a pair of heels higher than you had ever worn before.

“Are you trying to get my ankle snapped in half?” You asked and looked at her in shock.

“You’ve worn heels before, what’s a few more inches? And they’re designer, when else will you get a chance to wear them?” She asked.

If you weren’t in awe of the shoes, you would have glared at her. “True…” you trailed off and tried the heels on.

“Okay, now take everything off and I’ll pack them away,” Ingrid said and turned around so you could change.

After handing the dress and shoes to her, you put your regular clothes on, feeling less like a million bucks. Ingrid put the dress and shoes in a suitcase along with a box of jewelry.

“Alright… I’ll leave these with you. Good luck,” She said and smiled at you.

You walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. No amount of hugs could make up for her landing you this job, or even just being your friend when you got lost in the sea of USSTRATCOM agents. But still, it was the thought that counted.

The two of you hugged each other for a good while, making a silent promise to work hard and for you to make it back in one piece. “I’ll try not to drive you insane this time,” you said and smiled at her.

“You know better than making promises you can’t keep,” she replied and chuckled. The two of you broke the hug.

The room was littered with clothing racks and discarded dresses. “I’ll help you bring the racks back,” You said, looking around the room.

“Don’t bother, I’ll have it done in two trips tops. And you need to get going, check in time for the hotel ends at 11pm,” she said.

You nodded and picked up your bag and suitcase. “Talk to you later,” you said and gave her a toothy, warm, smile as you walked out the door.

Walked through the D.S.O. office, you made your way to your locker, grabbing the duffel bag you carried around on missions. It had your knives, guns, and pretty much a small armory in it.

“Ready to get going?” Leon asked, walking up next to you to go through his locker.

“Yup,” you replied, slinging the duffel bag over your shoulder.

“Let’s get going then,” he said, smiling at you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

January 31, 2015

“Name?”

“Nathalie Oakes,” you replied, confident in your fake persona. The two of you, you and Leon were putting the finishing touches on your outfits. With a job like this, all of the details mattered, how he cuffed his sleeves, what you wore for jewelry, everything.

“My name?” Leon asked, fixing the collar of his blazer and undershirt. He was wearing a suit that was matching the dress shade, his blazer and undershirt being the same shade. His tie was black and so were the pants. The way he had his shirt and blazer, the shirt was unbuttoned a little bit so his chest was slightly out. Almost like he had cleavage, which if you were honest he kind of did. That man worked on his chest like he was paid to do it.

“Edward Wingate,” you answered. Your fingers gently pulled the top off of the velvet covered jewelry box, staring at the almost blinding gold necklace. Picking it up, you were trying to figure out how to clasp and unclasp it with your nails.

Ingrid had treated you to a manicure the other day. Adorning your fingertips were acrylics, nude colored and almond shaped. When you had asked how to shoot or fight in them, you were met with snickers and were told to figure it out yourself.

So you did. Spending the last few days in the shooting ring and training rooms, making sure you were confident in your abilities with the nails on your hands. A chuckle came from behind you and Leon’s hand gently grabbed the necklace. “Need help?” He asked.

You nodded in reply and pulled your hair up so he could put the necklace on you.

“It's funny, I’ve seen you kick ass hundreds of times and you’re getting stuck on trying to put a necklace on,” He said, the everpresent teasing fronting his voice.

“It’s these damn nails. I have so much respect for people that function with these things. And I can still kick your ass with these on,” You retorted, earning another chuckle from the man behind you.

Looking at the mirror, you saw a reflection of a life you could only dream of. A woman dressed up to the nines and her partner helping with her jewelry. The juxtaposition to what your reality was was almost taunting. Where there were ivory colored gloves in the mirror, there was usually blood; yours and others’. The hair that fell smoothly like silk sat on top of the head that was filled with nightmares. Nothing in the mirror was a true reflection, except for the man behind you.

You dreamed of finding the one person who got you, emotionally and physically. One who always had your back and would be there for you on the nights where you remembered the blood filled apartment in Manchester. Leon was the one person in your life who could quell the cold isolation, the icy, crushing feeling of your past. He didn’t know about your feelings for him, he couldn’t.

Even if the feelings for him overwhelmed you in only a way that a full symphonic orchestra could. His smile made the world feel a little brighter, his laughter made life sweeter, He was like honey added to coffee, something that made a bitter drink sweet and a different palate.

“Alright, done,” Leon said and pat your shoulder lightly.

Your eyes looked at the gold adorning your neck and you smiled. “Thanks,” you said warmly and turned around to get the purse that matched your dress. The feeling of someone staring at you made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, something you had from the STRATCOM training.

Looking in the mirror to your left you saw Leon staring at you, something that happened quite a bit, but this time it was differently charged. Something was fueling the look on his face, but as usual, he was hard to read. He noticed you looking at him in the reflection of the mirror and he turned his face towards the wall, pretending like he wasn't staring at you.

“You ready?” You asked, willing to ignore that he was blatantly staring at you.

“Yeah,” He replied and grabbed his Sentinel 9, sliding it into his blazer and through his shoulder holster under the jacket.

Turning towards your bed, you grabbed your holster, fastening it to your thigh under the dress. The slit was on the other thigh so it wouldn’t reveal the holster.

“Ready Miss Oakes?” Leon mused, holding his arm out for you.

“Ready Mr. Wingate,” You replied, smiling a bit and taking his arm. This all felt wrong, but right at the same time. What would it feel like if instead of a mission, this was your reality? What if instead of heaving Edward Wingate on your side you had Leon Kennedy? It was jarring, as jarring as the emotions you had been trying to sort out the last few months. Swimming somewhere between your heart and your brain were your complicated emotions.

They really weren’t complicated, your situation was.

If Leon wasn’t your coworker and technically your superior, you would’ve tried to go for it, but the reality was that your lives could get messy. You didn’t want him to potentially get in trouble for fraternization, you didn’t want your relationship to change if there was rejection, and most importantly you didn’t want either of your potential deaths to hurt more.

If you left your feelings unsaid, the chance of you or Leon dying wouldn’t sting as much. So, your feelings were buried between your tight lips, unspoken and never going to be explored.

“You okay? You seem lost in thought,” Leon said, his eyes meeting yours. The clicks of your high heels and his shoes were echoing through the hall on the way to the elevator.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking about the mission,” You replied as the two of you stepped into the elevator. Your gloved finger pressed the 6 button.

“Our target is a potential C-virus sample. Most of the summit will be held on the 6th floor and a lot of the vendors will be here starting tomorrow. Tonight is the dinner party that starts off the summit. Everyone will be busy socializing and drinking,” Leon reminded you.

“Meaning tonight is our best bet to get in and out unnoticed,” You said, smiling.

“Meaning, our job will be a lot easier if we get it tonight,” He said.

The elevator opened to the 6th floor, warm yellow lights illuminating the space. The room was open, the venue taking up the whole floor. Across the walls were floor to ceiling windows, the city lights coloring the dark horizon and sky. The floor was dark wood, glossy in finish, and the ceiling was an off gray color with golden details. All over the room were circular tables with chairs around them, the tables adorned with empty champagne glasses, cutlery, napkins, plates, and candles.

“I feel like I don’t belong here,” You said quietly. The last undercover mission you went on was almost the polar opposite of this.

“Don’t let them make you feel inferior. They’ll see through the disguise,” Leon assured you as you two walked into the room more. “And don’t sell yourself short. More importantly, don’t let rich assholes sell yourself short. You’re worth more than everything in this room put together,” He added.

You smiled a bit, redness slightly painting the tips of your ears. “Thanks for the confidence boost. I’ll make sure to put this down as one of the only times you were sweet to me,” You said, looking at him. He opened his lips to say something, but closed them as someone was making their way over to you two with a clipboard.

“Good evening, I presume you’re here for the North Eastern Biotech Summit?” The man said. He was dressed in a usual black tie suit. He stood around 5’11”, being only a few inches taller than Leon and looked to be around your age.

You didn’t miss how Leon almost changed into a completely new person with his energy level and atmosphere. You also didn’t miss how his arm suddenly snaked around your waist, pulling you close to him. The corners of your mouth upturned into a warm friendly smile at the contact and the man in front of the two of you.

It was all for the mission, that’s what you convinced yourself. Being a couple, that was for the mission, but enjoying it? That wasn’t part of the mission.

“Of course! Edward Wingate, and this is my lovely fiancé, soon to be Mrs. Wingate,” Leon said, his voice sounding like silk. As he spoke, he pulled you close to him, squeezing the two of you in a side hug.

The man in front of the two of you checked his clipboard, his eyes skimming down the list of names on his sheet. His eyes lit up when he saw the two names you presented.

“Ah yes, Mr. Wingate and Ms. Oakes,” He replied, putting the clipboard down and gesturing to a table. “Let me help you find your seat,” He added. The two of you followed the man to a table in the corner of the room.

As you got closer to the table, you tried to process all the people here, their fancy clothes, and their arm candies. The people paired with the lights, and the complete lack of smell in the room was almost too much for you to handle.

Leon and you sat down at the table, your hands immediately going to the glass filled with water. The cool liquid made its way down your throat and relief was evident on your face. As you put your glass down, another couple sat next to Leon, their outfits as extravagant as the venue. There was a man and a woman, the woman looking slightly older than the man.

“Hello! You weren’t here last year, it’s always good to meet a new supporter,” The woman said and outstretched her hand to Leon. After they shook hands, she outstretched the same hand to you, which you took as elegantly as you could.

“Finally got invited to join in on the summit this year. We’re excited to see what the latest developments in biotech are,” Leon replied, smiling at the two of them. He lightly put his hand on your thigh, the warmth spreading through your body. If you were drinking, you would have almost choked on the water.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Blaire, this is Ambrose,” The woman said and gestured to the young man next to her. Looking at his hand, you could see the two of them were engaged, the gold engagement rings sparkling. You slid your hand onto the tablecloth, so the two of them could observe that you and Leon were also “engaged”.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Im Edward, this is Nathalie,” Leon gestured to you, almost showing you off. Your mind wandered off to thinking about what if it was Leon who was showing you off, not Edward showing off Nathalie. Could you ever make him proud to introduce other people to you?

“The summit this year is said to be the biggest yet,” Blaire said. Her midnight blue dress was stunning against her skin. The gold jewelry could catch anyone’s eyes.

“That so? It certainly is a special night,” Leon said and chuckled a bit. You were surveying the room, seeing where the wait staff and other people were coming out of, making it look like you were taking in the decor.

A frazzled worker coming out a door directly across the room from your table caught your eye. From your seat, you could see shelves and what looked like a storage room, or a green room that the items being showcased in could stay while waiting for tomorrow.

Your eyes glanced back over to the couple sitting next to Leon and you smiled warmly at them, playing the role of the pretty arm candy that didn’t talk much.

“We’re going to the bar for a few drinks, want to come?” Ambrose asked warmly and gestured to the bar on the opposite end of the room. It was close to the storage room you saw earlier.

Before Leon could object, you spoke for the two of you. “Of course,” You replied with a smile.

As the two of them got up, Leon looked at you, his eyes asking for an explanation. Giving him a look back, your eyes told him, trust me, I have a plan already. He nodded in acknowledgement and you two got up, following Blaire and Ambrose.

The four of you got to the bar counter and you looked up at Leon. “Hey, honey, I’m gonna head to the bathroom, could you just get me a vodka lemonade?” You asked and held his elbow lightly.

Leon’s eyes twinkled a little bit, him knowing what you were really saying. “Of course, I’ll hold your drink for you,” He said. Before you walked away, he leaned in and kissed the top of your head.

Your rational side knew why he did it, it was strictly to play your parts, but the part of you that dreamt about a different life fluttered when his lips met your head. Heat ran to your face as you blushed and started walking towards the bathroom.

If there was one thing you didn’t want, it was for Leon to see the red painted across your cheeks. Then your feelings would be questioned.

Making sure no one was watching, you walked past the bathroom and towards the storage closet.

The first thing you noticed about the room was that it was cold, like a walk in freezer. The next thing you noticed were the lights, they were a cold blue hue, no warmth found in them at all. The very last thing you noticed was the lack of smell. Where the scent of mildew and/or dust would be filling your noses there was nothing. Not even the various cleaners on the shelf were creating a smell.

Looking around the room, you saw various gadgets and displays set up for the summit. Each piece was on its own roll out table,but one in particular caught your eye. On a smaller display table, there was a closed briefcase. If you were lucky, the vial containing the virus sample would be in there, if not, you would have to survive more socializing.

Walking over to it, your eyes traced over the case, looking for any signs of vents or anything else that could be a trap. Clearing the case, you brought your finger up to your earpiece.

“Condor 2 to Roost, I found the delivery. Am I cleared to grab it?” You asked.

“Condor 2, good job. You’re cleared to grab it,” Ingrid’s voice rang out in your earpiece.

You nodded to yourself and studied the case again, making sure it wasn’t trapped. Flicking the clasps open, you saw the vial. Inside of the small glass container was a red substance that looked almost sticky. Reaching out to it, your hand went to grab it.

Suddenly, you felt a strong sting of heat course through your hand. Smelling a burning sort of smell, you ripped your hand away from the glass and looked at it, seeing a second degree burn forming through the glove you were wearing. Snickering in annoyance, you bunched up both of your gloves and picked up the vial, stuffing it in your purse and thinking of a way to conceal the burn on your hand.

Walking out of the storage room, you made your way back to Leon and the others getting their drinks. Leon went to hand you your glass, but his eyes immediately caught on to the burned palm of your hand. His eyebrow raised in questioning and the look you gave in response didn’t ease his worries.

“Well, it’s been good to meet you two, I think Nathalie is feeling rather ill. We’re gonna head back to our room,” Leon said, looking over at the two he had walked to the bar with.

Blaire and Ambrose nodded in respect and left to go back to the table. Leon’s eyes went back to your hand, concern written across his face.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” He asked.

“I suggest that we get back to the room then have this conversation before the sample vial burns a hole through my purse,” You retorted quietly and walked with him.

The two of you slipped out of the party, unnoticed, just like how you had gotten in. The job was as easy as Hunnigan had said, in and out, and other than the burn on your hand you both came out unscathed.

“We’re talking and walking,” Leon said as the two of you got out of the elevator, walking down the hallway to your room. His voice told you that he wasn’t asking, more telling you that you two were going to talk.

“The glass burned my hand, that was it, everything else was fine,” You replied as you made your way to the door to your room.

“I’m patching that up when we get inside,” Leon said, again leaving no room for debate.

“Fine,” You mumbled and swiped the keycard, opening the door.

The two of you walked in, you immediately getting out of your heels and leaving them by the door. You were about to head into the shower, before Leon closed the bathroom door from behind you. You didn’t have to see his face to know he was staring intently at you.

“Before anything, I’m fixing that hand of yours,” He said, his breath hot on your neck. You turned around, looking him in the face.

“I want to get out of my makeup and this dress,” You replied, a slight whine in your tone.

“You’ll get to later,” He said, almost pulling you to the bed. Begrudgingly, you sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him walk to the bathroom. While you were getting ready, earlier today, you didn’t notice how soft the bedsheets were. The silk pooled under your fingers, wanting to lull you to sleep.

Leon returned from the bathroom, with a bowl filled with water, a first aid kit, and a couple hand towels. Your face scrunched a bit, uncomfortable with the idea of someone doing something that you could do yourself.

“Leon, I’ll be fine. I can bandage myself up after I get changed,” You said, trying to quell him. However, one of the things that you had learned early on while working with Leon Kennedy was that he never walked away from someone needing help, no matter how small or big the need was.

The bed dipped as he sat next to you, pulling your hand so that it was face up on his thigh. “And what happens when you don’t fix it and you get scarring or can’t use your hand as well as you used to? This is your shooting hand, don’t be stubborn,” He insisted.

“‘Don’t be stubborn?’ That’s rich coming from you,” You replied, eyes scrunched together waiting for the pain of him putting your hand in the bowl of cold water.

Where you expected there to be pain from the water, there was relief. Part of you wished that it was running water, but the other part of you knew it might’ve been rough on the freshly buried skin.

“Just relax, I’ll take good care of you,” Leon said, his hands going to open the first aid kit.

“That really makes me feel better,” You said back snarkily.

“Good to hear that you didn’t lose your sense of humor,”

“I got a burn on my hand, I didn’t get impaled,”

Leon chuckled a little bit and took your hand out of the bowl, putting it down on one of the hand towels. “I thought I trained you to say ‘thank you’ when someone helps,” He replied, a glint of teasing in his eyes.

“You didn’t teach me shit other than how to shotgun a beer,” You replied, a smirk on your face.

Leon’s small chuckle turned into a hearty laugh. “Fair, fair,” He replied and started to bandage your hand. “Good eye, seeing where the displays were held. The job was easy thanks to you.”

“Is that praise from Leon Kennedy?” You asked, feigning shock. “Oh my god, the world is ending.”

“Hey, I give you enough praise,” He retorted and lighting wrapped the bandages around your hand, lightly tying them. “Okay, your hand is all set and will be as pretty as it usually is soon,” He added with a toothy grin.

“Thanks,” You said and looked at the bandaging, your voice softening.

“Before you change, I have something else for you,” Leon said, walking over to the fridge in the room. Your eyes followed him and watched him pull a box out of the fridge and a large bottle of sparkling cider.

“What’s the occasion?” You asked as he walked back to the bed with two forks and two flutes.

“It’s January 31st….” Leon trailed off.

“Oh,” You replied softly and looked at the box. Leon opened it up and revealed a tiramisu cake, simple and plain, just like you liked it.

“I’m sorry you had to be on a mission tonight, but our lives are what they are,” He said and handed you a fork. “I know you like tiramisu cake and you hate most types of alcohol so I got you some goodies,” He added with a soft smile.

“Thank you, I haven’t had anyone to spend tonight with for a long time,” You replied, taking the fork and flute.

“Before we eat, actually, I think it’s a waste that we didn’t get to dance while in these fancy ass clothes,” Leon stood up, walking to the radio in the room and putting on a classical music station.

“I don’t know how to dance,” You said.

“If you can fight, you can dance, it’s pretty much the same thing,” He replied and held his hand out to you.

“You say that now, but you won't be laughing when I step on your foot,” You warned, taking his hand with your good one and standing up. Leon laughed in reply and pulled you close to him, his hand finding a respectful spot on your waist.

“How do I put up with you?” He asked dramatically, his eyes sparkling with humor.

“I should be asking that question,” You replied. “Maybe, we were meant to annoy the shit out of each other.”

The two of you chuckled as you swayed together to the music. Leon’s eyes never left yours and the way he was looking at you felt… intimate. Like you were the only person in the world to him and you were all he wanted.

“Happy birthday, (Y/n),” He said after a few seconds of silence and smiled.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Present Day

You saw Leon’s mouth moving on the other side of the prison cell bars, but couldn’t hear a word he was saying. His blue eyes were staring at you, squeezing shut in a grimace every few seconds. If you were going to get infected after all the missions the two of you had gone through, you were happy that at least you could lose your minds together. Nothing else mattered to you other than the feeling of closeness you two had in the moment and your fingers laced together through the jail cell bars.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch this fic early on my AO3!

#resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #slow burn #leon s kennedy

98 notes · View notes