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fleshbride · 6 months

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PRESENTING . . . AIN’T NUN BUT A HOOCHIE MAMA!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!BLK!HOOCHIE READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: black fem reader; reader is 26, toji is 34; reader is on the thicker side; usage of the word nigga a few times; smut; breeding kink, hair pulling, dumbification, overstimulation, pussy slapping, impact play, messy pussy eatin’, size kink, hints of sado-masochism, a bit of brat taming, manhandling, praise & degradation, multiple orgasms, cervix fucking, choking, squirting; fwb-ish to lovers (?); pet names are used, such as mama, baby, pretty girl, dollface, princess & sweetheart; reader has a kid of her own; reader is a hoochie, meaning she’s seen as ‘ghetto’ but in a very pro-black & attractive way; reader has a mature body, pudge, cellulite, stretch marks; reader accidentally flashes toji; reader & toji share a blunt; toji is actually a good dad in this!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 7.5k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ this is actually pure filth. this was my first time writing for toji EVER and actually my longest work. guys when i tell you i put some shit into this thing, idk what i did but i SNAPPED. HARD. i hope you guys enjoy this nasty thing that came from my imagination. not proof read or anything so pls excuse my typos!

sometimes, your job could be a godsend. who knew that a simple job at the local hair store would catapult you into meeting one of the sexiest men you’d ever seen?

to be completely honest, it wasn’t solely your job that sparked such an interaction. it was moreso you; you possessed an irresistible, unmistakable charm that was impossible to ignore. your voice, soft as a lullaby, held a dulcet quality that drew people in like a magnet. anytime you opened your mouth to speak, you commanded attention effortlessly, as if your words held some mystical power that captivated any listener.

everyone was always drawn to you, and it wasn't hard to see why. who in their right mind wouldn’t be smitten? you were a vision of beauty, with your radiant brown skin that seemed to glow as if illuminated from within. your smile, perfect and white, could light up even the darkest room, making hearts skip a beat. your eyes were another story altogether. they seemed to sparkle, glimmering with an intensity that was all yours.

your hair was always done, you always made sure that you had a fresh set of lashes. to add, you never forgot to apply your clear lip gloss. now, this wasn't just any gloss, it was your signature, lip gloss added a radiant shine and highlighted the natural beauty of your plump and full lips. your lips, always so perfectly glossed, assumed an irresistible charm that made them look especially appetizing.

to add onto it, your personality was in tip top shape, matching your looks. while sometimes your mouth could get a little reckless, you had an air of kindness, professionalism and just genuine good vibes. it was hard to dislike you, no matter the case. you were a woman of wonders.

you loved your job at the hair store too; maybe that was why your attitude was always good while you were there. it paid well, the hours were flexible and it was something you enjoyed. you loved how your manager let you pick out the wigs and the outfits that would be displayed, and sometimes she let you take home left over makeup and jewelry — which was how you got your favorite set of hoop earrings.

working at the hair store also granted you all types of experiences. sometimes you met upcoming make-up artists and beauticians, hair dressers, nail techs, lash techs — you always made sure to be extra helpful and friendly to everyone you met, just in case they could ever help you.

or… on the rare occasion, you met men. often, they were coming in for their wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, friends — and each time, they were clueless. of course, you helped, breezing past them with the smell of bubblegum and perfume, preferably daisy by marc jacobs.

today was no different.

you were the only one working in the store this saturday, and it was roughly around 12 in the afternoon. the sound of needed me by rihanna echoed through the store, giving it a nice ambiance. you clocked in at 9, and were scheduled to get off at 4 — you had a bit of a long day ahead. however, the store had been a bit slow today. not many customers entered; maybe three every hour, compared to a usual 7-15 people per hour. you were both grateful and a bit sad for the lack of people, as it left you with extra time on your hands.

instead, you found yourself thinking of your six year old daughter at home. alaina, your sweet girl, who was at her grandmother’s for the day. you fondly rubbed the bead bracelet she made for you, that spelled out mommy. your daughter was the most loving child you knew, and you adored her with every part of you.

as you gazed at your bracelet, you let out a soft hum. you’d have to get her another one from here, even though she already had a plethora. whatever you got from the hair store, you usually shared with alaina.

the entrance bell dinging had you snapping out of your thoughts of your daughter, turning your head to greet whoever entered. your boxbraids slid down your back as you looked. it was a little girl who entered, no more than nine. she was in a cute blue dress, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail. her cheeks were rosy, which had you cooing at her mentally.

“hi baby,” you called out to her, looking behind her for a parent, “where’s ya mama, hm? a lil’ one like you shouldn’t be walking around all alone.” the girl hadn’t noticed you, and jumped when you called to her. she put her hands up, waving them enthusiastically. “o-oh no, miss, i’m with my dad! he’s just getting his wallet. do you know where the nails are? and the makeup?”

you smiled at the little girl, stepping from behind the counter. you were in a beige sun dress, with some matching wedged sandals. the sundress was long, coming down to your ankles, but there was a slit on the side. it hugged your curves nicely, even though your little bit of pudge was much noticeable; you didn’t care. to be honest, the dress covered way more than your usual outfits, especially in the summer like this. you had never been scared to show your body, even after you had alaina and people insisted on you covering up; because you were a mother now. however, you didn’t give a fuck. if you wanted to wear your shortest shorts, you would.

“c’mere baby girl, it’s this way.” you offered the young girl your hand, which she took happily as you led her. “i’m assuming you’re looking for the press ons, right? not the ones you glue?”

the girl gave you an enthusiastic nod. “yes, ma’am!” she was polite, you noted, with a curl of your lips. her father must be raising her right. “my dad says i’m not big enough to ruin my nails with glue..”

you let out a laugh as you squeezed the girl’s hand. “your daddy’s right,” you mused, “stick to the ones you can press til you become a teenager.” you brought her to the kiddie nails, and stood with her while she made her pick.

the young girl seemed stuck between a pair of pink ones leopard print ones, and blue zebra print ones. “what do you think, miss? i can’t choose.”

you only gave the girl a shrug. “i say get both. let ya daddy worry, not you.” however, because you liked this little girl, you’d only charge her for one anyways. the girl nodded in agreement, giving you a giggle, which you quickly reciprocated.

all of a sudden, you heard the gruff call of, “tsumiki! where have you ran off to?” the girl perked up immediately, and ran to the end of the aisle. “dad! i’m over here!” she called, waiting patiently for him to come over.

you raised your eyebrow as you made your way over. you were a bit curious to see the man who had raised such a sweet and polite girl. as you reached the end, your eyes widened as they set on the man.

he was tall, unbelievably so. his towering stature, reaching at least 6’2, must’ve made him stand out in any crowd. his body was muscular, brawny and well-built, and t he black compression shirt he wore clung to his chiseled frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. his hair, a deep black, was just a bit shaggy — the perfect length to frame his strikingly sharp face.

his eyes were a vivid green, so piercing that they could make anyone feel as if they were the only person in the world. they locked onto you and tsumiki. his attractiveness was lethal, and it was impossible not to notice the way he looked over you. his gaze was slow, lingering, and purposeful, almost as if he wanted to make sure you noticed his attention.

you would’ve been phased if you were a different woman; but you weren’t. instead, you gave him your trademark smile, looking up at him with a warm aura.

a scar sat on the corner of his lip. it twitched slightly as his lips curled into a smirk, making him look even more attractive to you then he already did.

“you work here?” came his deep, rough voice. it provoked goosebumps down your skin, but you didn’t allow yourself to show it.

“yup,” you answered, “sorry i wasn’t at the counter, i was helpin’ miss thing here pick out some new nails.” you watched toji’s mouth open, and held up a finger, “and yea, before you ask — it’s the press ons. no glue needed.” the man let out a hum and gave a nod of approval.

“good. tsumiki, go put those on the counter and if you want anything else, ya better pick before i get back up there.” he told her; his voice was rough, yet still somehow sounded caring. when tsumiki scampered away with an, “okayyy!”, he turned his vision back to you.

the once over he gave you earlier didn’t seem to be enough. he gave you another; from your champagne blond knotless boxbraids which were long and down your back, curving over the swell of your ass, down to your painted white toes in your sandals. shit. you were fucking hot.

“how old are you?” he asked boldly, not wasting a second.

you raised an eyebrow, “you ain’t ever heard it ain’t good to ask a lady her age?”

“so old enough,” he countered back with a smug smirk. “have you been able to drink legally for at least two years?” still asking your age without pointedly asking like before.

“i’ve been old enough to drink legally for five years,” you relented, “so like i said, old enough. why you askin’?”

“i like to know the ages of my women before i hit on ‘em.”

you grinned. you already knew you were going to like this man, and his attitude towards you solidified that. “and i like to know the age of my men before i let them,” you combatted.

“thirty-four,” he answered immediately, and the corner of your lips pulled up in satisfaction. twenty-six and thirty-four. not a bad age gap, only eight years. you could manage.

“you allowed to hit on me now,” you said playfully as you slid past him, “don’t make the shit corny, ‘cause i’ll laugh at yo ass.” maybe that’s his plan, you thought, him tryna laugh me out my panties.

the man let out a bark of a laugh, following after you. you could almost feel his eyes locked on you as your hips swayed while you walked. he only chuckled out, “oh, don’t worry about that.”

you went back behind the counter, ready to pay for their things. tsumiki had thrown a stack of bracelets on the counter, and a new tube of sparkly pink lip gloss to which you scanned and then only scanned a pack of the nails. her father raised an eyebrow at you, but you pretended not to notice. “that’ll be 18.75,” you informed. her father pulled out thirty dollars and slid it to you. as you prepared to give him the change, he shook his head.

“don’t need the change. consider it a tip or somethin’.” you furrowed your brows at him, but didn’t question the customer. instead, you handed them their things with a sweet smile. “bye, lil’ missy,” you told tsumiki, before looking up at the man, “come back soon.” your voice was low, and quite flirtatious. he gave you a smirk.

“oh, i will.”

and he did.

it was three days later when he finally came back. you were leaned over the counter, examining your new nails. it was hot, too hot to even be working. the doors were open, and the AC’s were blasting, trying to cool off the store. you wore a jean miniskirt, with a fat gucci belt on your hips. you paired it with a cropped pink tank top that had a deep v-neck, showing off a bit of your cleavage. your golden nameplate sat perfectly on the apex of your breasts. today on your feet instead of sandals were your pair of pink and white dunks. you had taken out your box braids, and gotten your hair done the same day you got your nails done.

now, you had gotten a lace front installed — and you looked good as fuck. it was a deep shade of vibrant purple, down your back. you had added your own spin, doing one of those heart shaped parts and gelling it down the side of your forehead, and doing edges on the side.

as someone entered, you turned your head to the side to greet them. “good afternoon,” you said cheerfully, looking at the woman who entered. she was dark skinned, with a bumped bob. her makeup was done sharply. you watched as she side eyed you, and muttered out a terse, “hello.”

immediately your eyebrows furrowed. “bitches got an attitude, okay,” you grumbled under your breath as she disappeared into the aisles. it was a few minutes later when she came to the register with a flat iron. off the rip, you told her, “oh mama, you don’t want this one. a few people who purchased this one have said that it heat up too quick and smoke a lot, then breaks. so go ‘head and get another one.”

the woman glared at you, looking you up and down. “excuse me, i didn’t ask for your opinion on what i’m buying. and if it’s so faulty, why haven’t you taken it off the shelves?”

her attitude immediately had you tilting your head, trying your best to bite your tongue. “ma’am, that ain’t my job, i don’t do merchandise, i work at the register.”

she rolled her eyes at you, before snapping out, “then don’t say anything about said merchandise.”

your next words came out before you could even think about it, “ho, i’m tryna help you not burn this crispy fuck ass bob off but okay.” upon realizing what you said, you didn’t apologize nor change. instead you cocked your head, tilting it, while staring at her blankly.

“excuse me?” the woman asked, “honestly, i don’t think i’m taking hair advice from a woman who don’t wear hers natural, and has her skirt digging up her ass. how old are you? you have to have a child at home, dress with more fucking class before you talk about me,” the woman’s face was twisted as she snapped at you.

“i know damn fuckin’ well,” you said slowly — and just like that, you knew you were about to cuss her ass out. “i know DAMN fucking well that you’re not talking to me like that. bitch, are you mad that your ass built like a fuckin’ square? bitch be mad then cause that’s why yo ass slope like y=mx+b. bitch, don’t you EVER question my fashion choices when you’re wearing leather in 87 degree weather. you fuckin’ cereal box built ass bitch, you know what, i got a trick for you—“ you quickly took the flat iron from her and pointed a nail at the door. “now get the fuck out, bitch you’re banned.” the woman opened her mouth to retort, but you were faster, talking over her, “bitch, i don’t give a FUCK. get the fuck out.”

the woman mumbled a, “ghetto bitch.” before storming out the store while you massaged your temples. it was nothing you hadn’t heard though. “fuck be wrong with bitches. man, i need a fucking BLUNT.”

“personally, i would’ve hopped over the counter.”

you looked up at the familiar voice, seeing the man you met the other day. immediately, a grin spread across your face. “look who came back.”

“told ‘ya that i would.” he mused, walking up to the counter, “you should’ve thrown the flat iron at her face. i would’ve paid money to see that.” he wore a white wifebeater and black basketball shorts. did he just come from the gym or something? the lack of clothing allowed you to see just about all of his muscles, and god, were you pleased.

you snorted, giving him a playful eyeroll. “shit, i was fuckin’ thinking about it. you saw the whole thing?” the mystery man, who you decided to dub mr. man, gave you a nod. “positively. you cleaned her so beautifully, and i have to add, you look so, so appealing when you’re angry.”

“shut up, nigga,” you laughed as you put your elbows on the counter, cupping your face with both hands. “what’re you here for?” you looked up at him, and he mimicked your action, fitting his fat ass arms on the counter.

“i need some hair gel for my son. he’s in this spiky phase, shit, i don’t know,” mr. man rolled his eyes a little bit, before adding, “and i don’t know which to pick. as you can clearly see, i don’t use gel.”

you let out another laugh, coming from behind the counter. “yeah, c’mon mr. man, i’ll show you which to use.” off the rip, you noticed how his eyes locked on your body.

yeah, i got it like that, nigga, your inner thoughts said as you internally hyped yourself up.

“mr.man?” he questioned from behind you, his eyes focused on the way your hips swayed, and the way a little bit of your ass was uncovered by the skirt.

“well, you never told me your name, so i gave you a nickname.”

he snorted a little before saying, “well, my name’s toji, for one.” you thought about it for a second for a second. was that a moanable name? you went through it in your head. yeah. definitely moanable.

“my name y/n,” you finally disclosed, “but everybody just call me n/n.” toji nodded a little. “n/n… that’s cute.” you noticed one of the items had fallen off the shelf, and without hesitation, you bent over to pick it up, completely forgetting about the fact that you were wearing a skirt, and the man behind you.

toji almost had a fucking heart attack. his eyes zoomed in onto your now slightly revealed ass, your sheer red panties that showed the plush outline of your pussy. shit. shit. it was over in a second, much to his mixed chagrin and gratefulness. however, he wasn’t some boy — he maintained a straight face and control. you placed the item back on the shelf and resumed walking.

“alright,” you said, as you reached the gels, “see, here’s what i use for my daughter,” you held up a jar of eco. “eco holds good for her, and it lasts long, to be honest. her hair is a bit thicker. and it doesn’t have like color residue like prostyle gel.” you grabbed the black container of prostyle gel. “but if your son has like brown-black hair, it’ll be good.” toji shook his head, saying, “nah, he has that weird bluish-black.” you tutted and put the prostyle down.

“there’s also gorilla snot gel, which i recommend if his hair is straighter, you feel me?” you held up the yellow bottle of gorilla snot.

toji looked at both and let out a short groan. “i can’t decide. i’ll take ‘em both and see which works better.” you shrugged and passed them to him. you took note of how positively huge his hands were. they could probably cover your whole face. or… your entire ass.

“i didn’t know you had a little runt too,” he made conversation with you as you walked back to the counter, “i forgot you’re almost 30.”

“yeah i forget too, trust,” you laughed a little, “my little girl’s my pride and joy, her name’s alaina. she’ll be starting first grade this year, i’m so proud of her. i actually got pictures.” you pulled out your phone and showed him your lockscreen which was the two of you. toji chuckled.

“y’all look alike, cute,” he commented, “my son’s seven, and tsumiki’s eight. you met her last time.” you fondly recalled your encounter with the polite young girl. “you a single parent, too?”

you gave him a nod, and a shrug. “alaina’s daddy claimed he wanted nothing to do with her, so i kept it like that. then his stupid ass got locked up, thank riddance.” toji let out a short laugh. “tsumiki’s mom was my first wife, and we divorced. megumi, my son, his mom was my second. unfortunately, she passed.”

“aw,” you said, pouting sadly and placing a hand on his large arm. “i’m so sorry for your loss, sweetheart. i hope you’re doing alright.”

toji laughed a little. “i’m fine, pretty mama, don’t worry about me.”

you bristled at the new nickname, giving toji a wicked grin. “that’s how you referring to me now?” you asked, as you slid behind the counter to the register.

“you’re pretty, and you’re a mama,” toji said with a shrug. “it honestly only fits.” you very pointedly made sure to check him out and said, “mmhmm..”

as you rung him up, toji said, “does alaina need any new friends? my son’s a bit shy and doesn’t talk to nobody but his sister… maybe they could have a few play dates?”

“yeah, i’d love that!” you answered, a genuine smile coming onto your face. anything referring to your daughter made you happiest. “your total is 14.95. here i’ll give you my number...” as toji paid, you rang it up. on his receipt, you wrote your number and passed it to him.

toji grinned and gave you a nod. “see you around.” you wiggled your fingers in return.

see him around, you did. you and toji were quick to hook up play dates whenever your schedules aligned. you became familiar with the routine of getting off work in the afternoons and scooping alaina’s to head to toji’s to play with her two new best friends.

you and toji often stayed downstairs, while they played in tsumiki’s room. you and toji would watch movies, roll blunts and eat food — or sometimes even play texas hold ‘em, in which you won every single time.

toji would grumble, and accuse you of cheating, when in truth, he was really just a bad gambler, but all was well. you considered toji a good friend… of sorts.

because that’s what you two were; friends. friends who sometimes flirted a little; you considered toji a friend when you’d bend over to pick things up in those skimpy jean shorts you wore; toji considered you a friend when he’d slide past you, pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass and muttering a, “excuse me, n/n,”; you considered toji a friend when you’d play sexyyred and say the lyrics a little too… forceful; and he considered you a friend when he’d make slick little sexy comments about your body before adding, “that’s just what other guys think.”

safe to say… there was a bit of tension between you two. and finally, it came to a crescendo.

it was normal, at first. like usual, you and alaina were at toji's house. it was around 9:30pm, and the kids had collapsed after playing all damn day and finally having a meal of chicken nuggets. you remembered the look on your face discovered them. they were heaped in the large bed; tsumiki had more than enough room for all three of them, yet they were together. alaina was draped over megumi and tsumiki, her face in megumi’s chest but her body pressed to tsumiki’s. they were all tangled up, limbs skewed and whatnot.

and now, you and toji were together downstairs, toji watching as your nimble fingers crafted the blunt — his were too fat. your feet were in his lap, and he was watching you with those bright green eyes. as you rolled, you were mumbling one of sexyy’s songs. “fuck me like you mad at me, baby.. i need that dick to drive me crazyyyyy…” you sang under your breath.

toji raised an eyebrow at you, “the music you listen to has some really… meaningful words.” as you licked at the blunt, you let out a laugh. “i agree with everything she say. when suki said that if you ain’t eating coochie, you ain’t fucking, i felt that one.”

finally, you perfected it and grabbed toji’s lighter. “you only fuck eaters?” he said, amusement trickling through his voice. you lit the blunt and took a deep inhale, masterfully blowing it up into your nose and then out again before passing it to him. “yup. only fuck eaters ‘cause they do it the best. you an eater, toji?” you asked pointedly, watching as one of his rough hands drew circles on your leg, then up to your knee, while the other lifted the blunt to his lips. he took an inhale, then another. god, you hated double hitters, but it was okay — it was only you two.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” toji shot back, his trademark smirk sliding across his face. his lip twitched, scar jumping.

“that’s why the fuck i asked you, toji,” you clapped back immediately, making the older man squeeze your leg while passing the blunt back. “watch your mouth, n/n. don’t get fucked up.”

“or what?” you immediately retort, holding the blunt up to your lips as you took another puff. “you not gon’ do shit to me, toji, like i honestly wish you w—“ your words were halted by the man throwing your legs off his lap, one hand going to spread them roughly as he pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

“i’m not gonna do shit?” he repeated, as your eyes went wide; he had obviously startled you, but you weren’t opposed to this one bit. as his fingers rubbed at your pussy through your shorts, you shook your head feverently again, looking at him as you held the blunt to your glossed lips. “not a damn thing.”

when all toji did was nod, you were sure you were in for it. and you were. he was quicker than you, grabbing your hand that held the blunt and quickly forcing you to put the blunt in the ashtray. the smoke you were holding in your mouth was forcefully removed as toji roughly pressed his lips to yours, the smoke being shared between you two as he pried your lips apart.

the next few minutes were coated in a needy haze. his big hands were everywhere, all over your body. moving to squeeze at your tits, your ass, your thighs. eventually the settled on the waistband of your shorts and began to unbutton them. before pulling them off completely, leaving you in your lacy dark blue thong.

he pinched the plush of your pussy, barely hidden by the panties — more like decorated by it. immediately, the scent of your slick, which was already dripping, filled toji’s nostrils, making him let out a wanton moan.

“fuck, mama,” he hissed as he trailed his finger down your slit, “you always this wet? this is how you’ve been the entire time?” he looked up at you, eyes darkened with lust.

“no,” you lied immediately, giving him a reckless smirk. “she just like that off the rip. i determine whether it’s for you or not.” toji only let out a little laugh. “word?” he asked. you opened your mouth to repeat the word back to him, but you were rudely interrupted by him slapping your pussy.

it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t exactly soft, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through you. you hissed out a, “shit..” toji smirked at your reaction as he pushed your panties to the side, before delivering another smack, this time a litle harder. you let out a mewl, squirming in his hold.

“crazy,” toji said to you, “two lil’ slaps just made you leagues wetter. you sure you’re not wet for me?”

you refused to answer, only giving him a shrug. “so you wanna be a brat now, huh?” he asked you with an eyebrow raise as he began to pull the panties down your thighs. “like you weren’t jus’ all over me. ‘toji, you a eater?’” he mocked you in a high pitched voice as he pulled you forward, legs sliding over his broad shoulders. you remained silent, biting your tongue. maybe you were a brat; you knew that with toji’s strength and stamina, you would get much more if you drew it out. plus, you wanted to make him work for every moan, every word.

“you gon eat my pussy or not?” you asked boldly, your hand going to lace through his hair, nails pressing against his scalp. “like literally, shut the f—!” you were interrupted by toji latching his mouth onto you, completely ripping the words from your mouth.

his tongue, long and flat, slid between your plush folds, calloused hands digging into your thighs as he shoved his face between your legs. off the rip, his motions were rough and quick, tongue swirling against your clit before going down to your hole, curling against it to lap at your essence. you gripped the couch as you let out soft moans, trying not to be too loud — you didn’t wanna fuel toji’s already large ego.

“fuck,” he mumbled as he pulled away, “pussy’s so sweet, baby. i should’ve bent you over in that fucking store the day you wore that skirt.” you were unable to respond before he was diving back in, tongue messily trailing througu your pussy. he was there between your thighs, feasting on what you offered, lapping up all the sweet nectar you had to spare. his lips latched onto the delicate bud of your clit, sucking with a fervor that left you gasping, while he looked up at you with a gaze that was as heated as it was prideful.

one of your hands found its way into his hair, tangling in the soft locks as you gripped it tightly, the other clutching onto the plush fabric of the couch as though it was your only lifeline. your breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, each one harder to catch than the last, your mouth falling open in that perfect 'o' shape as you let out sounds so sweet and melodious, singing a song of pure pleasure just for him.

and you couldn’t help it; euphoria was pulsing through your body, coating your thoughts in nothing but toji. your toes curled, as toji slid his tongue inside of you. god, he was so messy, your slick already all over his face, his spit mixing with your slick as it trailed down your ass.

you were incessantly moaning, unable to even downplay or disguise it anymore. “s-shit, toji, fuck, that feels so good—!” he looked up at you with satisfaction as he slid his tongue into your entrance, curling it upwards against your walls.

you squealed, trying to scoot backwards away from the pleasure, but he was quick to yank you back, trapping you against his mouth, his hands coming to wrap around your thighs. one of his fingers traced the stretch marks on your thighs. he worked his fat tongue inside of you, curling and sliding as his pointer finger swirled your clit at such a fast pace, you was sure he was gonna give you something close to a rug burn.

his paired actions had you spiraling over the edge, the coil in your stomach stretching and stretching until it was ready to snap. “toji, ‘m close—! fuck, fuck— gonna cum!” toji’s movements became much more insistent, gaining in speed as he basically shoved you over the edge.

your orgasm hit you like a brick, your back arching off the couch as you gripped toji’s hair tightly, whined babbles of repeated words leaving your lips. if it weren’t for toji holding you down and anchoring you, you were sure that you would’ve grown fucking wings and soared away.

you creamed all over his tongue, and he made sure to pull away, before messily spreading it throughout your pussy, just to lap it all up over again, letting you settle, working you through the after effects of your climax.

you sucked in ragged gasps as toji pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his face. he stared at you with such intensity, shivers went down your skin. your eyes immediately focused on his hard dick through his sweats, the outline prominent. you tapped your foot on his thigh. “gimme that,” you breathed.

“do you deserve it?” toji said back, his voice a bit raspy. “been a bratty slut this whole time. you were so cocky, remember? i don’t get you wet, right?”

you wanted to maintain your pride, you really, really did. but desperate times called for desperate measures. “c’mon, toji,” you sighed sultrily, “i was just playin’.. just wanted to make it a little fun for you, you know that..” you spread your legs a little more, teasing him as you continued, “it’s all yours, i swear — been waiting for this for such a long time.”

toji only gave you a soft chuckle and the only words gave you were, “that right, baby?” immediately, he scooped you up with a single arm, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. you let out a noise of surprise, but immediately arched your back, looking back at him as he pushed his sweats down his thighs. his dick sprung up, and you couldn’t say you were shocked by it.

his dick was both fat and long, and it almost made your eyes pop out of your head. he had to be at least eight inches, veins running up the side of his heavy dick. his tip was a dark apricot shade, and it was leaking bad, opaque beads of precum sliding out of his slit. he was well trimmed, with heavy breeder balls. you almost salivated. but at the same time, you questioned how all that was even supposed to fit in you.

he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “don’t you worry, princess. you’ll take every inch of me.” one of his hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as he directed his tip against your entrance, slapping it there a few times, making you groan in need. “t-toji, stop fuckin’ playin—!”

once again, you were rudely interrupted by him pushing the tip inside of you. he let out a hiss, your walls sucking him in. however, with just how wet you were, he slid right back out. he let out a snicker as he leaned his hand down to slap your pussy again. “but you not wet for me, alright..” he lined himself up again, and this time — he didn’t push into you slowly.

with one rough thrust, he filled you to the brim, forcing you forward as you let out a strangled noise, clawing at the couch. “toji! oh fuck..!” you pulled your hips forward, trying to get him to pull out a little, but he wasn’t having it. “s-shit, i’m not even all the way in yet,” he huffed, hair hanging in his eyes. toji was letting out pants, it felt as if your pussy was fucking suffocating his dick, strangling it.

inch by inch, he pushed the rest of his dick in, until the plush of your ass was nestled against his pelvis and stomach. he yanked at his shirt, pulling it off of his body. your slick was already coating him, dripping down to his balls. you were a mess, mewling just from him entering. you felt so full — his dick stuffing you better than you ever had been before. and it was driving you out your mind.

toji didn’t wait for you to adjust. with one hand on your ass, thumb rubbing against the ridges and dimples, and the other lacing through purple hair, toji pulled all the way out, and then slammed all the way back in. the force of his motions shoved you down into the couch, and immediately you let out a cry of, “t-toji! slow down!”

but slowing down wasn’t apart of his agenda. he rasped out, “nah, this is what you wanted, baby. so take it. take my dick like a good fuckin’ girl.” he began snapping his hips into you, the veins on his dick dragging against your walls just right. your cunt clamped down on him every time he tried to pull out, as if it was forcing him to make your cunt his new home.

toji was mesmerized by the way your ass jiggled and clapped with every movement he made, the sound of your skin slapping filling the air. he slapped your ass hard and then squeezed, making you squeal once more. “fuck, look at you. bouncing this ass back on my dick so good..”

at his praise, you looked back at him before proudly twerking back on his dick, putting on a little show. he laughed, his hand trailing from your hair to snake around your throat. “such a fuckin’ slut,” he said gruffly, before pulling his hips back so that only the tip was inside before ramming his dick back inside of you.

you felt him nudge against your cervix, and you let out a noise close to a scream, while his hand tightened around your throat. tears filled your eyes at the pain, your lashes beginning to slide. “you’re gonna wake up the kids, princess. wouldn’t want them to come down to seeing you getting fucked like some whore, right? keep that pretty mouth quiet.” he leaned down, chest pressing against your back as he curled his much larger body against yours. “but not too quiet. wanna hear you lose your fucking brain over this dick.”

his other hand came to wrap around your throat, and he began to jack hammer into you, slamming you on his dick over and over. your eyes rolled back, a mix of pain and pleasure twisting through you, that coil getting ready to snap again. “t-toji…” you slurred out, “g-gonna fuckin’ cum again…!”

“so fucking do it,” toji hissed as your clenching began to get more intense. “paint my shit, baby.” his voice was sending shivers down your spine, aiding your increasing pleasure. you let out ragged moans into the couch as your body trembled, pussy spasming wildly around his dick as you came a second time.

he didn’t slow down through your orgasm, instead, he went faster, if that was even humanly possible. he pressed down on your head, forcing your face into the couch, and pressing on your belly simultaneously. it forced you to have a deeper arch, but it also made you feel just how deep he was inside of you. pressing his big hand against your stomach to feel his bulge had toji grinning.

you were a wreck, tears sliding down your face, your lashes long fallen of. you were pretty sure your lace had peeled, but you didn’t care. you could barely think, barely form coherent sentences with how toji was fucking you. and he knew it. he knew he reduced you to a mess, and he wasn’t even halfway finished with you.

soon, he felt his orgasm coming, and he let out a deep groan. “shit.. where do you want my cum, doll? ‘m getting close..” you were quick to whine out, “i-inside, toji.. want you to cum inside…!”

“haah!” he grunted out with a smirk, “want me to fill you up, huh? want me to stuff you full with my cum? yeah, i bet you fucking do, look at you.”

“toji, toji, toji, fuckkk.. want your babies, c’mon, make me a mama again—!” toji laughed shakily at your dumb response, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “fuck yeah, dollface. you better not spill not one drop, alright?” he let out a strangled moan as he released, his thick cum filling her to the walls.

you sucked in harsh breaths, finally feeling relieved after toji’s constant fucking stopped. he seemed to slow down, gently fucking his load into you. you began to relax… however you were sorely mistaken.

“you thought i was done with you?” toji asked as he gripped you, flipping you over so that he could see your face. you looked a mess, but you were so, so pretty. your eyes were watery, face with tear trails all over. your lips were bruised from how much you’d been biting them. at least your hair was still intact… for now. toji leaned down and pressed a kiss to your jawline, down to your throat. he yanked at the top you wore, and when it didn’t want to cooperate, he ripped it and peeled it off of you himself. “toji, my shirt….” you whimpered but he dismissively waved a hand. “you’ll get one of mine.” he reached behind you, unclipping your bra and letting your tits spring free.

his big hands almost swallowed them as he began to leave bites and kisses all over your throat, collarbone and chest. “can’t possibly be done with you,” he said against your skin, “been waiting to fuck you like this since i laid eyes on you, doll.”

he left a plethora of hickies on your skin, very obviously marking you as his. you were still speared on his dick, and he began to roll his hips languidly inside of you, curving into your g-spot repeatedly. the feeling had you seeing stars as he gripped your legs and pulled them around his waist. with each thrust, he began to get more forceful and speed up, until once more, he was pounding your insides.

your nails went to his back, scratching, making toji wince in pain as his hips collided with yours. three of your nails had broken off. a third time, you felt yourself reach your climax once more, but it felt different. painful almost, with the last your clit throbbed. you managed to push away the toji-shaped clouds in your brain and realized.

“t-toji—! toji, ‘m gonna squirt!” you cried out as you twisted in his hold, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you. “t-toji—!” he only smirked at you, yanking you closer. “make a mess f’me, mama. wanna see you get all messy… c’mon, c’mon, make that pretty pussy squirt on my dick.” he pressed another messy kiss to your lips as his hand snuck down to rub your clit, forcing more pleasure into your system. you let out a ruined, gasped noise — like you wanted to scream but couldn’t get it out. clear liquid gushed from you, coating toji’s lower half, some of his abdomen and the couch.

you were in too much of a haze to notice that soon after, toji came inside of you a second time. he didn’t pull out at first, instead opting to lay his head against your sweaty skin, pressing kisses. he realized that you would be completely gone for a bit, after that, so he was gentler with you. he pulled out, watching his cum slowly dribble from your hole after the two creampies he gave you. not wanting you to sit in your own fluids, picked you up and brought you to his room, putting you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers before tucking you in.

he went back downstairs, eyes locked on the mess you made on the couch. a soft whistle escaped as he plucked your lashes off the sofa and put them on the table.

you probably wouldn’t become his girlfriend yet; but you damn for sure weren’t going anywhere now.

1K notes · View notes

borathae · 3 months

Text

↳ Index [Snippet #45 - Showerhead]

"When you and Jungkook get each other off with a showerhead."

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: the cozy small town vibes we all love TCT for <3, Kookie being a sexy tattoo artist, he's a tired bean as is OC, a cozy night in with burgers from Seokjin's diner, Bam being the cutest dog, the next warnings are for smut: this is kinda a quickie, there's no specific roles just a married couple having some sexy time to let off some steam, they had a lil bit of a stressful day and relax this way, shower sex, making out, naked grinding, some grinding on his thigh, they use the showerhead on each other to make each other cum, Jungkook being wet and hot, sexy communication, dirty talk, praise, size & strength kink, squirting, giggly aftercare, this is the kinda sex you can only have with someone you know well and love dearly, they're so in love you guys :(, *shrivels up* the domestic comfort *implodes*

Wordcount: 5.3k

a/n: my explanation for this? i love this universe, i love this couple, i love their bond. enjoy besties 🧡

“Hey there.”

Seokjin lifts his head from the receipts he was sorting through. His eyes light up instantly, an adoring smile curls his lips.

“___! Yooo, you’re here”, he hollers and leaves his place behind the counter with stretched open arms.

You fall into the hug, letting out a little giggle because you’re really happy to see him.

“I am. Today was stressful as fuck though”, you say.

“Yeah? Busy day at the restaurant?”

“One could say that, yeah”, you say and break the hug, “how was your day?”

“Stressful as well. I don’t know why people were so hungry today, but it’s only just calmed down.”

You scan your eyes over the familiar diner. Seven of the twenty three tables are occupied. You shake your head in comradery knowledge and look back at Seokjin.

“I think it’s the weather. People like eating out when it’s cloudy.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Speaking of food, I’ve got your burgers in the back”, he says and turns to leave.

“You’re a fucking saviour, you know?”

“Tell me once I’m back”, he calls out and disappears in the kitchen.

He reappears again after a few seconds, carrying a paper bag with your order.

“Here you go. Two deluxe beef burgers with extra bacon for Kook and lots of sauce for you.”

“And two servings of chilli cheese fries.”

“Of course, with extra cheese because it’s you.”

“Dude, I seriously love you. You saved our evening. I feel too tired to cook and I know Kook’s gonna wanna lie down the moment he’s home.”

“Where is he? Still at the studio?”

“Yeah, till eight. He’s got a full back tattoo to finish. He’s been at it since nine.”

“Geez, whoever is getting the tattoo is either insane or has lost all feeling in their nerves ‘cause a full back tattoo for elven hours is fucking mental.”

“Right? Dude, when Kook did the snake on my shoulder blade?” you turn your shoulder to him, pointing at it even if currently your biker jacket is keeping it hidden.

“Yeah?”

“I cursed at him multiple times. Not ‘cause I wanted to, but ‘cause it happened on instinct. It hurt like a fucking bitch.”

Seokjin laughs, “I know how you feel. My back tattoo experience still haunts me.”

“Didn’t you curse at him too?”

“I think I might have even threatened his life at one point.”

You and he laugh.

“Totally understandable”, you joke.

“Yeah, ah funny”, Seokjin says and walks behind the counter again.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Please, it’s on the house.”

“I hate it when you do that. How much do I owe you?”

“It’s fine, dude. Just bring me some of those parmesan rind balls you’re serving at the restaurant and we’re even.”

You roll your eyes and place the correct amount of money on the counter.

“Good thing I worked here for years”, you say and turn your back to Seokjin to strut off.

“I should change the prices, seriously”, Seokjin jokes as he looks at you, reaching for the money you left.

You snicker, turning in the doorway, “see you at Tae’s and Hobi’s on Saturday?”

“Of course. I’ve been looking forward to DnD night all week. Namjoon keeps talking about how much fun being DM is. He says this session will be unlike any before.”

“He always says that and then they never disappoint.”

“Seriously”, Seokjin agrees, “and Jimin was here this morning and said that Yoongi will bring apple pie.”

“Seriously? Oh my god, mhhm”, you groan, “I’m so excited, dude.”

“Me too”, Seokjin says and lifts his hand for a wave, “drive safely, ___.”

“Thank you. You too, Seokjin”, you say and turn to leave.

You store your dinner in the safety compartment on your bike and put your helmet on. You fix your gloves and then finally sit down on your bike to drive off. The smell of warm concrete tickles your nose as you cruise through the familiar streets. The diner soon disappears behind you and Hoseok’s garage appears to your right. You slow down to see if you can spot him. You can. He is working outside. He lifts his head at the sound of your bike and stands up, lifting his hand to wave at you. You wave back at him, slowing down your bike because luckily for you, the lights turned red. You open your visor.

“Yoongi brings apple pie on Saturday!” you call out loudly over the rumbling of your bike and also to bridge the distance.

“Dude, that’s fucking awesome!” Hoseok calls back, making a funnel with his hands to be louder, “driving home?”

“Yeah! I got burgers at Jin’s!”

“Nice! Enjoy them!”

“I will!”

The lights turn green again.

“See you Saturday!” you yell happily and close your visor to drive off.

Hoseok gives you a wave with both of his hands, swaying his hips from side to side to really get his excitement across. You laugh in fondness, giving him a wave until a turn to your left, naturally forces both your hands back onto the handles so you could take it safely.

The denser inner town soon disappears behind you as the road takes you along the coast. You pass Jimin’s and Yoongi’s house on tonight’s route. The lights in the street facing rooms are turned off, but you can spot the garden lights being on. You sound your horn as you pass them, knowing that they will know that it was you greeting them. Then you speed up, leaning into it. The road allows you to do so safely and there is nothing better than feeling the warm night air on your skin. Today is a good day. Even if it was stressful, the small moments of familiarity and good friendship were already enough to make it a good day.

Bam waits for you by the garage door, containing his excitement by sneezing repeatedly and tippy-tapping with his hind legs.

“Hello there Bamie, how was your day?” you greet him in a squeaky voice.

Bam huffs out air, shaking his head.

“That’s good to hear. I had a stressful day, but I got burgers”, you say and walk off to the kitchen. Bam follows next to you, sniffling at the bag, “it’s not for you, you greedy boy”, you laugh, moving it higher so he can’t reach it anymore, “don’t worry, mommy’s gonna feed you right away”, you say and open the fridge, “are you hungry, baby?”

You and Jungkook started a new diet with Bam after consulting with your trusty vet. It consists of raw, fresh meats, vegetables, fish and eggs presented in a bowl which makes him work for the food so he gets mental stimulation out of it as well. He even gets some berries and the most delicious unsalted bone broth to wash it down with. Truly, your little doggy son eats like royalty with you. You swear that ever since you started his diet, his fur glowed more and his poops smell better.

Bam waits by your feet with his tail wagging excitedly, looking up at you with big eyes.

“Almost done, baby. Wow, you can’t even imagine how stressful today was. I had to run around so much, my feet hurt”, you say and pick up the filled bowl to carry it to Bam’s feeding station.

The Doberman follows you and sits down in perfect position instantly. Just like you and Jungkook have trained him.

“Good boy”, you praise him, “turn.”

Bam follows.

“Sit.”

Bam follows.

“Good boy. Wait.”

Bam follows, watching you put his food bowl into the mount. You straighten up. Bam looks up at you.

“Wait.”

He doesn’t move.

“Wait.”

He doesn’t move.

“Release.”

Bam finally moves and jumps up to begin eating his food. You give him a little pet on his back.

“Good boy. There we go, enjoy your food.”

You give him his space afterwards, leaving the kitchen to change into comfortable clothes and wash your hands. You are in the hallways leading to the stairs when Jungkook comes home.

“Sweetie! I’m home!”

“Hellooo”, you coo, jogging down the stairs and meeting Jungkook at the end of them. You stay on the last step, hooking your arms behind his head to pull him into a kiss. He has to tilt his head up for it, wrapping his arms around your waist, “mwuah”, you end the kiss, giving him a happy scrunch of your face.

He retorts it, hugging you.

“How was your day?” he asks you.

“Stressful, but not bad. Yours?”

“Exhausting. My back’s killing me and my neck’s already dead.”

You slide your hand to his neck to massage it gently.

“I can imagine. Did you finish it?”

“Yeah, the madman actually sat through the entire tattoo.”

“That’s actually crazy.”

“Yeah”, Jungkook chuckles and lifts his head, resting his chin against your chest. He grins as he talks, “did you get the burgers?”

“Of course I did. They’re waiting for us in the kitchen.”

“I’m so hungry already.”

“Me too”, you say and break the hug by getting down from the last step, “wanna watch The Witcher as we eat?”

“Yes, that sounds like a plan”, Jungkook says as he jogs up the stairs to change into comfortable clothes and wash his hands.

You have the burgers and fries prepared on your coffee table when Jungkook comes back. Bam is on the sofa next to you, resting his head on his front paws as he enjoys his post dinner nap. Jungkook wakes him as he gets on his knees in front of him and greets him with kisses all over his face.

“Hello Bamie”, he coos in a squeaky voice, “did you have a good day? Daddy had a really long day. Oh Bamie, my baby.”

The Doberman accepts his dad’s kisses with a wagging tail. It makes a dull sound of impact each time it slaps the couch cushions.

“Mwuah”, Jungkook finishes his kisses with a smooch to Bam’s forehead and then stands up. He picks up his burger and plops down on the couch so Bam was between you and him. He stretches his legs out and lets his head plop against the cushions. Then he sighs, “that’s luxury, seriously.”

“Yeah”, you agree, “ready?”

“Yeah.”

You press play on the show and for the next twenty minutes, you enjoy your dinner as the show was running. You pause it once you are finished with your food so you could carry the dirty plates to the kitchen and start the dishwasher. You return with some chocolate drops for dessert.

“Choco snack?” you offer Jungkook.

“Uuh, yes thank you”, Jungkook says and scoops a good handful out of the bowl. Bam left the spot between you and him by now so he could instead scratch at his favourite scratching mat. The sounds of his playing fill the background as you press play on the show again. You rest on the couch in a way which enables Jungkook to lie down between your legs. You put the snack bowl on his stomach and begin massaging his shoulders.

“Mhm yeah, that’s premium”, he says, wiggling happily, “thankies.”

“Tell me if I hurt you”, you say and then no other words are exchanged between you and him as you enjoy the show. You snack, you cuddle, you massage his shoulders and you react to good scenes in the show. It’s truly the perfect evening.

After the episode finished, you stay on the couch to chat about your days. You and Jungkook are facing each other. He is sitting on the sofa cross-legged as he massages your feet because you complained about them hurting.

“By the way, I just remembered”, you say during a moment of nice silence.

“Yeah?”

“Seokjin told me that Jimin was at the diner today and that he told him that Yoongi will bring apple pie on Saturday.”

“This just made my entire night. Yoongi’s apple pie is the best apple pie ever. Sorry baby, yours is amazing too, but I gotta be honest.”

You laugh, “no, I agree. There is no better apple pie than Yoongi’s. And Jinnie said that Joon can’t shut up about how good this session will be.”

“He always says that and then it’s never a lie.”

“I said the same thing.”

You and Jungkook share in little chuckles.

Bam appears by your side, stubbing Jungkook’s knee.

“I think he needs to shit”, he says.

“Yeah, I think so too. His eyes are glassy.”

“Do you need to poop, baby?” Jungkook coos at Bam. The dog huffs out air and leaves the living room for the front door, “okay yeah he does. I’ll take him for a walk, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay here if you don’t mind. My feet are gonna shrivel up if I take another step today.”

Jungkook chuckles, “no worries. I need the movement either way”, he says and gets up. He kisses your forehead as he passes you, “it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Yeah, okay. If I’m not here when you return, I’m taking a shower.”

“Okay. See you later, sweetie.”

“See you, honey.”

Just like you told Jungkook, you are taking a shower when he returns. He knocks on the door.

“Come in!”

He enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He scans his eyes up and down your naked body, but doesn’t say anything raunchy about it.

“How was the walk?”

“Good. I feel human again”, Jungkook says and rolls his shoulders, “Bam’s in his crate already. He totally passed out after the walk. He did so much sniffing, I think it tired him out.”

“He’s so cute.”

“Yeah, he really is”, Jungkook sighs dreamily, "our son."

You chuckle fondly and guide the showerhead over your left arm, “do you wanna join me?”

“Uuh, yes I do”, he coos and begins undressing in little dance moves. It makes you laugh because he is such a dork.

Now buttnaked, he grins cutely and steps into the shower. He leans in for a little kiss, but you attack him with water instead by turning the showerhead and covering his chest with it.

“Hey”, he laughs.

You snicker mischievously then begin guiding the showerhead over his body to wet him.

“Not cool. I wanted to kiss you”, he chuckles.

“Kisses come later. You’re sweaty.”

“Wow, so mean”, he laughs and turns his back to you so you can wet it as well.

You turn off the water afterwards, picking up his soap to squirt some into his hands.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome”, you say and switch out his soap for yours.

You and he soap yourselves up, going thoroughly to really make sure the day is washed off. You even soap up your cracks, feeling no shame in doing so. It was a little awkward in your beginning phase, because soaping up your intimate places is a very personal thing to do, but these days, you don’t think it’s embarrassing to do it in front of each other. In some weird way, it’s kind of nice to do it in front of each other. You are bonded for life and there are no other people you know as intimately as you know each other. Feeling comfortable in washing even the most personal places in front of each other just means that what you and he have is real and it’s home.

Jungkook takes on the job of washing the soap off your bodies. First you and then himself. He keeps the water running afterwards, guiding it over your body for now to warm you up.

“And now?” he asks.

“We could dry up and watch more Witcher or we could get a little sexy.”

“A little sexy?” Jungkook asks and glances at your tits, “like sexy sexy?”

“Yes, sexy sexy”, you snicker, nudging his chest, “doofus.”

“What? I gotta make sure, I don’t wanna be weird.”

“Cutie”, you say and take the showerhead from him to warm him for a change, “do you wanna be sexy sexy with me?”

“Yeah”, Jungkook nods his head, “yeah, I can be convinced.”

“You can?” you ask seductively.

“Mh-hm”, Jungkook hums and wiggles his brows.

You turn the water off and put the showerhead in its mount for now. You step closer to Jungkook and touch his chest.

“You can get your kisses now”, you tell him.

“Finally”, Jungkook says and grabs your butt with both his hands to pull your body close. He claims your lips in a kiss, purring happily.

“Mhhm”, you hum, burying your fingers in his hair as you get lost in his kisses.

You kiss, you touch, you grope and hug. You stumble, press each other against the tiles, giggle, kiss some more and turn each other on in the process. Most of your shared showers don’t end in sex, so tonight feels extra special. You felt like it. You had such a good day and Jungkook is such a cutie that you just wanted to at least shoot your shot. That Jungkook said yes was the sweetest cherry on top.

By now, Jungkook has you against the tiles with one knee between your legs so you can grind on it as you kiss. He is rolling his hips against you, finding sweet electricity on your stomach as his hard cock moves against it.

Jungkook breaks the kiss to nibble on your neck.

“I love it when you mark my thigh”, he rasps.

“I know”, you sigh. Your lips feel puffy and tender from kissing, “shit Kook, it feels so good.”

“Yeah, it does”, he agrees, squeezing your butt, “my goddess. Gotta love that ass.”

“You’re stupid”, you snicker and moan, “fuck, you feel good.”

“Mhm, yeah”, he sucks a spot of sensitivity to your neck, “so good.”

“Kiss me again”, you say and pull him into a kiss.

And so you do it again. You kiss, you touch, you grope and grind. You moan, sigh, shiver and pull each other closer. You stumble and move around, almost knock the soap bottles over and hit the showerhead hose with your elbow.

You break the kiss again. You are both out of breath and heated up. Jungkook looks at you with heavy eyes.

“Wanna do something fun?” you ask.

“More fun than this?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

“Wanna get each other off with the showerhead?”

“Yes”, Jungkook furrows his brows, “fuck, your mind. You’ve got the sexiest ideas.”

“I know”, you snicker, “you first. I’ll make you cum”, you say and push him away from you gently.

“Okay”, Jungkook stumbles back, lifting his hands in defeat, “I’m not stopping you.”

You take the showerhead off its mount and turn the water on, checking the temperature with your hand. You lower it then turn it to Jungkook.

“Is that good for you?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Okay then, get ready.”

“I’m so ready”, Jungkook says and looks at his hard cock.

You place your palm on the upper side of his cockhead and use your thumb to hold it in place. You tilt it and guide the showerhead to his sensitive tip.

Jungkook gasps, taking a wobbly step closer while his cock throbs into the sensation.

“How’s that?” you ask him, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

It is foggy in pleasure. His lids are lowered halfway.

“Good”, he whispers and parts his lips for a soft moan.

“You’re so pretty”, you speak quietly too. It feels right to do so.

“No, you are. Ah”, he furrows his brows, “there. Woah, ah”, and his eyes fall closed before his nose scrunches in pleasure. Another moan rolls off his tongue, his lips stay parted afterwards.

You look back at his cock. The water is hitting him right at his frenulum, reaching parts of his flushed tip as well. His thick vein is pulsating, moving his entire cock on your palm. His lower abs tense and tremble.

“Right there?” you ask, drawing circles.

“Yes, don’t stop. Keep, ah, please keep going.”

“Okay”, you say and try to keep the movements as they are right now. Slow circles with a minimal diameter so most of the water is focused on his sensitive frenulum. He says it’s where the pleasure goes especially deep. There and right on his tip. You don’t want to change the motion for the sake of finding out if his tip feels just as good however. Jungkook sounds so perfect right now.

“This feels so good”, he moans, touching your shoulder just to run his hand down your arm. He lingers on your elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It does. It’s so hot, baby.”

“Yeah-ah”, he bites his lower lip and smiles the kind of smile he always does when the pleasure hits just right, “that’s wow, aha”, he laughs breathily and opens his eyes, looking down at his own cock. He follows the showerhead as you guide it over his cock, sliding his hand to the back of your neck.

“Fuck.”

“Good?”

“Fuck, looking at it…” Jungkook closes his eyes and furrows his brows, “...yeah that’s gonna make me cum. Fuck….baby…”

“Can I try your tip? Just to see.”

Jungkook nods his head. You guide the showerhead away from his frenulum to instead draw circles on his tip. His cock throbs. He lets out a soft gasp.

“Good?”

“Yeah”, he rasps and rolls his hips, “I liked the other spot more. Please.”

“Mhm, that’s sexy”, you purr and guide the showerhead back to where you were before, “there?”

“Lower, ahnm it’s good just low- yes! Ah”, he moans loudly, throwing his head back, “there. That’s the fucking spot, holy shit.”

His cock pulsates and leaks. The water washes it away instantly, but the twitchy nature of his cock remains.

“You’re so sexy. Fuck, I’m going insane”, you rasp and feel tingles run all over your skin.

“Baby, you’re making me cum”, Jungkook gets out and squeaks in a moan, “a-ah”, he clears his throat, “sorry, voice cra-ah-ack. Ah fuck, ___ holy shit.”

You snicker, “you’re cute”, you say and draw a little heart. And another one. And one more for good measures, “and sensitive.”

“Yeah I was close”, he says and scrunches his nose, “this is gonna feel so. So ah. So good”, Jungkook stutters and rolls his hips, “stay there. There. Baby, please.”

“There?”

Jungkook moans loudly, scrunching his face.

“Yeah, right there”, you rasp, “you’re such a pretty boy, getting your pretty cock all clean and nice for me.”

“Fuck, oh fuck.”

“So pretty. You’re such a pretty boy with the prettiest cock.”

“Now”, Jungkook gets out and moans, convulsing in his high. He spills all over his tummy and your hand, but the water washes it away instantly. He wobbles, finding support by holding your shoulder, “I was right, it feels so good”, he whines and reaches down to play with his own tip, “oh god, ____. Ah!”

“You’re so hot. So fucking hot”, you moan with him, feeling your own knees buckle. There are only a few things hotter than watching your husband orgasm. You could fucking do it for hours. It’s addictive, especially when he’s wet from a shower and his knees are wobbling like crazy.

“Woah”, Jungkook gets out and slacks against you, dropping his head on your shoulder as his arms close around you. He audibly gulps repeatedly, nuzzling his nose into your skin. His cock is squished between your tummies, throbbing slowly. You hold the showerhead behind his back for now, letting the water hit the tiles.

“Liked it?” you ask him, tracing his spine.

He nods his head and exhales shakily, “holy fuck.”

You giggle, “you’re cute. I’m happy you liked it.”

“Yeah, I did. Seriously wow”, he exhales happily and lifts his head, giving you a goofy grin, “you’re the best ever. Thank you.”

You do a little curtsey, “you are very welcome.”

Jungkook laughs and gives your waist a little squeeze. His eyes lower playfully, he licks his lips. You feel your heart speed up and your pussy throb.

“Now give me the showerhead. It’s your turn”, he rasps and smirks.

You give it to him without hesitation, parting your legs so he can have access. You keep staring into his eyes, feeling yourself totally lose yourself in him. Jungkook gazes at you, eye fucking you so well that your breath is already shaky even without any sort of stimulation.

“Count to three for me”, he whispers.

“One.”

Jungkook slides his left hand to your hip.

“T-two.”

Jungkook leans down to place a kiss on the most sensitive spot of your neck.

“Three”, you sigh, closing your eyes in anticipation.

Warm water hits your pussy and stimulates your aching clit. You grip his strong upper arms, squeezing desperately.

“Jungkook….”

Jungkook purrs deeply, using his lips and teeth to play with your earlobe. He slides his left hand to the small of your back and tilts your hips with a gentle push, making it so your clit is more exposed to the stream of warm water.

The moan you let out bounces off the walls, but you find no shame in it. On the contrary, you allow another sound to slip, rolling your hips into the sensation.

“Is that nice, mhm?” Jungkook asks in a rasp and his voice tickling your ear.

“Yeah, nice”, you get out, gliding your hands to his pecs. Fuck, his skin is so wet and silky from the water. His muscles are twitching under your touch, his deep purr tickles your palm.

“You’re so sexy like this. Keep touching me, baby. Feel how strong I am, mhm?”

“Yeah…” you sigh, moaning when he tenses his pecs just for you.

Jungkook growls playfully and moves the showerhead closer. You twitch instinctively, feeling your knees shake.

“Wait. It feels weird like this”, you say.

“Yeah? What do you need changed?”

“Don’t laugh, but I want it like this”, you say and sit down on the floor. You rest against the tiles and prop up your feet, parting your legs.

“This is so hot”, Jungkook says and kneels down in front of you. He scoots close and gets comfortable with his legs crossed. You place your legs over his’, propping your feet up on the floor behind him. Like this, you have skin on skin contact and Jungkook is facing you head on. He leans in for a kiss, breaking it by gently nipping on your lower lip.

“You’re sexy”, he rasps and guides the showerhead to your pussy.

You jolt up, arching your back.

“Woah.”

“Good?”

“Can you, ah, use your fingers to spread me?”

Jungkook nods his head and uses his left hand to part your folds for the water. Trembles shake your legs, your hips roll into the sensation.

“Fuck yes, ah like this.”

“This is so hot. I love this”, Jungkook rasps and switches his gaze to your pussy. He licks his lips, wiggling his hips in desperation. You are so spread for him and the water takes such pretty paths along your pussy. He makes sure to bundle the stream onto your clit area. You already look so swollen, especially now that he is keeping you spread, “you look so sensitive, baby.”

“Your thigh”, you mewl and it’s enough for Jungkook to understand that grinding on his meaty thigh brought you just as close as your stomach did him.

“Fuck, so hot”, he growls and spreads your pussy more. He draws lines up and down your clit, listening for your reaction.

“Jungkook, baby”, you moan, rolling your head back.

Thud.

It falls against the tiles. Jungkook looks at your face. Your eyes are closed, a droopy smirk curls your lips.

“Does it feels good what I do?” he asks in a soft spoken voice.

You nod your head.

“Should we try circles too?”

You nod your head again.

Jungkook changes the lines for circles, sending trembles through your legs.

“It’s that. Ahng”, you scratch your nails over the tiled floor before grabbing your own thighs for support, “that. It’s, it’s that. Ah, fuuck….” you open your legs further, panting heavily as your back arches off the wall.

“Fuck, this is hot. I’m going insane”, Jungkook confesses in a raspy voice and his darkened eyes flitting back to your pussy.

“Don’t stop please. This feels so good.”

“I won’t, baby”, he promises you and leans in for a kiss. He manages to place one on your jawline, ending it with a little suck.

“Ah, mhm, ah”, you let out and writhe, “it’s soon.”

“Yeah? So hot. My pretty girl with her pretty pussy. It’s so sexy how she’s getting all wet for me.”

“Keep talking, holy fuck.”

“Mhm, my pretty girl. You’ve got the prettiest pussy, baby”, Jungkook rasps and swirls the showerhead just how you need it, “my prett-”

“Now!” you fall into his words as your high hits you. Sit up in reaction, grabbing Jungkook’s arm for support as the only sound leaving you is a throaty “ngn.”

“Baby”, Jungkook moans with you, staring at your throbbing pussy obsessively. She is pulsating so much.

“Holy fuck, this is actually making me squirt. Ohgod. Urgh”, you moan and groan, convulsing uncontrollably as the intense stimulation of the water makes you squirt.

“Holy fuck, baby. Holy fuck”, Jungkook growls, gawking obsessively. The water washes any kind of proof away instantly, but the way you grab him and shake, is enough to let him know that you weren’t bluffing. The showerhead is making you fucking squirt all over the shower floor and it’s Jungkook’s doing.

“You’re a fucking goddess. Holy shit, I’m going insane”, Jungkook moans and helps you ride it out until you push away the showerhead on your own.

You drop against the wall, letting your head tangle tiredly.

“No more. Holy fuck”, you croak and writhe, “wow…”

Jungkook, who is still keeping you spread with his left hand, uses his pointer finger to rub your clit. He gets as far as to lightly brush his the pad of his finger over it and then you already flinch in overstimulation. Your legs fall closed as best as possible, your eyes open and beg him to stop.

“Seriously don’t. I’m so-” you twitch and flinch as Jungkook does it again.

As gently as possible. But you are way too overstimulated, so it felt as if he was using his entire force.

“Kook”, you both moan and complain, “stop it, I’m too sensitive”, you say in a laugh, reaching between your legs to pull his hand away.

Jungkook laughs and lets you. He holds your waist instead, closing in so he could claim your lips in a smiley kiss.

You kiss him back, but soon push him away gently. You slap his chest with both hands, barely using strength for it.

“You’re fucking awful. My clit’s sensitive”, you chuckle.

“Sorry, it was too tempting not to”, he snickers, “you know I love it when you’re like this.”

“I know. Too much unfortunately. One day I’ll accidentally kick you ‘cause you activated some sort of reflex. Seriously.”

Jungkook laughs. You laugh. You fall into a giggly kiss again, ending it with a mutual “mhm” and a stub with your noses.

You rest your forehead together, keeping your eyes closed.

“So this was amazing”, he whispers

“Yeah, it was. Exactly what I needed tonight.”

“Definitely. I feel so good. You?”

“Me too, yeah. Although, two things.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook is already snickering.

“My tailbone is starting to hurt and I’m getting sleepy.”

He chuckles and pecks your lips.

“Let’s actually dry ourselves, do our routines and then go to bed?” he suggests.

“Sounds like a deal. Snuggles later?”

“Snuggles definitely later. Oh hell yeah, you can bet on it”, he says, making you giggle.

“You’re cute. Now help me up, I’m ruined, seriously.”

Jungkook laughs, “hold onto me. Your strong hubby will help you.”

“Wow, I married the strongest person ever. My hero”, you joke, looking into Jungkook’s sparkly eyes as you and he once again share in giggles and laughter.

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nysrage · 2 months

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Rollin’ To Love, Onyankapon.

synopsis: you and your friends scheduled a girls night at cascade for valentines & love seemed to roll your way.

content: romance, fluff, hard to get reader, & barely suggestive themes.

ny’s notes: so while taking a short break to reflect & improve my writing i came up with this new au inspired by @kaegetsmewetter. i advise listening to the songs i linked during their little moment to really immerse yourselves & hope you enjoy! happy love day babies! 🏹🩷

“I-I’m going to fall!”

You didn’t think your valentine’s would be going this way but it was debatable that it was better than how you’d normally spend it. This same recycled day had been the same for as long as you could remember. Just you alone in your room eating ice cream and watching your favorite movie— love jones. The few romances you had never made it past this societies ‘talking stage’ or either ended up as one of those emotionally draining situationships. It was as if love and romance never truly worked for you and only brought trouble.

Slowly you’d come to accept it, until there was a ring of your doorbell. Opening the door to your friends holding balloons, roses and some valentines cookies, “HAPPY VALENTINES BOO!” brushing past you and welcoming themselves into your home. The sight putting a smile on your face, it’d been so long that someone had done something so special for you beside your parents. “Awe y’all really didn’t have to do this..” engulfing them into a group hug and holding them tight, grateful for such attentive friends.

“Girl you deserve to feel loved on this special day too! That’s why we decided to spend the night with you.” kyndall reassured, popping one of the pink candies in her mouth.

“So go get dressed loser, we’re going to cascade!” Dallas giggled, pushing you towards your room. Whirling around in her hold with a questioning brow. “Really cascade..?”

“What.? I’m tired of the club scene and we could use some good fun like when we were teens!” Dallas shrugged, with that soft glint of excitement in her eyes. “C’mon it’ll be fun..” kyndall coaxed, fluttering those volume lashes until you gave in. surrendering your hands in the air and walking towards your room.

“Okay, okay! No promises i’m getting in that rink tho!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Oh my god, i’m never letting yall convince me into coming here againn!” you whined, gripping onto your bestfriend’s jacket for dear life. Legs wobbling from the rolling skates gliding across the smooth floor not seeking to stop anytime soon, especially not with the crowd of people blocking your way to get to that safety wall you could hold onto.

Saturdays were still apparently the hottest for cascade, everyone seeking for fun outlet for the night. The flashing multicolored lights dancing around the walls and floors, as you and your friends entered. A upbeat set of early 2000’s song blasting over the speakers, as you waited in line to secure a pair of skates. “girl, girl girl. the niggas is out, look!” her constant tapping in of your arm made you finally look up. the group of skaters in particular that caught kyndall’s eye, vibing along to ray j’s ‘sex can i’ with their routines. the front two standing out from the rest, one with a colored buzz cut and street wear fashion. The other a fine chocolate man with a white fitted polo tee that hugged his slim-muscular build, and head full of soft deep waves. Beautiful smile still white and flashing even beneath the hues that illuminated the floor.

“Yeah, we got to get to that floor. Now.” kyndall swooned, grabbing her skates and footing towards the nearest bench to get them on.

“Damn bitch. wait for us!” Dallas laughed, the two of you following behind your eager friend.

Leading you right to this moment, settled into an uneasy stance and terrified of the little control you had over your legs right now. Skates clunking against one another as you tried your best to glide smoothly across the floor. “you got it, glide one foot after the other..” Dallas instructed, but it just seemed as if your uncoordinated body just couldn’t get with it. Wobbling above the laminated floor. Hands wrapped tightly around hers as a effort to keep yourself steady and upright, praying that you wouldn’t eat up the floor.

“Okay, m’gonna let go.” Dallas nodded, eyes on yours as she slowly released your hand. “Don’t overthink it boo.” Your body wobbling a little before it steadied as you continued to roll slowly. “I-I think i got it..” you breathed out, hand cautiously out in front of you.

“Think you’ll be good while i take a few quick laps?” She questioned and you nodded, waving her off trying to concentrate on keeping yourself steady. Counting your steps to yourself as you try not to fall on your ass in front of the big ass crowd of people. Smiling to yourself at the slightest improvement and increase in speed until another skater brushed past you, bumping into your side with a scoff. “Girl move your non-skating ass out the rink, tryna be seen n’ shit..”

Tripping over your skates and stumbling forward when suddenly a quick hand caught your arm. One strong hand resting on your waist and steadying your body before your feet could’ve swept up off the ground. “woah, you good ma?” A shaky breath left your lips as you brush your crimped hair from out of your face, “Yea, i-i’m just gonna—” refusing to look up, rolling away with a face full of embarrassment. Strong hand still holding onto your arm until you sat firmly along the bench. “Don’t trip, it’s a lot of people showing out for the crowd.”

“Slow sets the best to roll to.”

If it was even possible you became more embarrassed once your eyes met the person talking to you, The man being one of the smooth skaters that led one of the groups from earlier. Now that he was up close you could take him in fully, from his perfectly sculpted jawline to his tattoo covered arms. Those pearly white canines covered with custom open faced grills on display as he expressed his love for slow sets. barely even realizing you’d been staring awkwardly as you looked him over, but he paid it no mind just properly introducing himself to you. “Shit my bad I’m onyankapon, most just call me ony tho.”

“y/n.” briefly introducing yourself, “i can’t see how y’all do all this without falling on your ass..” you huffed, frustrated from the short time you spent out in the rink.

Ony laughed at your cute little pout, taking a seat next to you. He couldn’t lie you caught his eyes from the moment he saw you. Pretty skin glowing beneath the illuminated lights as you cautiously rolled within the crowd of people, lip tucked behind your pretty teeth with focus in your eyes. “Been doing this since grade school, plenty of practice.”

“but you just feel and move with the beat” he further explained, pointing out the many people that demonstrated his words. “Don’t think just let your body do all the work and it’ll come to you..”

The dj mixed into a slow set, the lights dimming into soft romantic hues as the ‘unthinkable’ remix by alicia keys and drake began blasting through the speakers. Mood quickly setting in as the skaters eased into the tempo, dj extending the intro as he shares his quick sentiment over the mic. “This for all my single people that hadn’t quite found that one, or even haven’t found the right words to say your ready for more. but ima help you get to ‘em tonight!”

Unbeknownst it was a song the both of you found yourselves listening to quite often these days. Not knowing when that right person would come into your life and changing that lonely destiny you found yourself believing more and more. Mindlessly swaying to the beat, ony gave you a quick glance before standing with his hand held out for you. Your eyes widening in panic when he suddenly ask you to skate with him but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, not when this had been that meant to be feeling this exact song had spoken of. Not waiting for him to finally get his one on one time with you eventually while he was in his element, and if he had to take the lead then he’d do exactly that.

“oh, no, no, no.” reaching back for a seat that was no longer in your grasp, ony shooting that same charming smile that caught your sights earlier as he pulled you onto the floor against your will. “i got you pretty, you trust me..?”

A small look of uncertainty occupying your face as you look over the crowd of skaters that vanished as you look back into his sincere eyes, giving in and uneasily skating forward to get closer to his towering form. Ony met you halfway and suavely spun your body into his, arms snaking around your waist as you took a slow unsteady breath as his hands rest just above your inner thighs. Heart thumping wildly in your chest as your body grows warm from those minuscule touches. Mind filled with nothing but him in that moment, that intoxicating jimmy choo cologne took over your senses as his protective arms tightened around you. Body turning to putty as you practically melting into his arms, nothing but a soft whisper leaving your lips.

“ony..”

“just focus on me…” warm breath fanning against your skin as his lip brushed the shell of your ear, keeping you pressed flush against him. Helping guide your movement to the slow rhythmic beat of the song, your small soft hands resting atop of his comfortably. Body submissively relaxing into his as you following his lead, swaying in sync as the two of you lose yourselves in a sensual stroll “there you go, feel the beat.” tapping softly to the beat against your thigh.

Maintaining a steady speed as if there were no one else in the building but the two of you. Strolling together for the rest of the night until the dj came to a satisfied close, happy with the outcome his slow sensual set had for the day of love. The two of you walking out the building together as the muffled music leaking through the doors. “Thank you for tonight.” you smiled, nervously pushing a loose crimp behind your ear. “Your a really good instructor.”

“Well I had a good partner.” he chuckled, that charm of his now in full swing “If you ever wanted to learn some more moves, I could give you my number..”

“Maybe even make into a little weekly date.”

“Maybe..” you hummed, looking him over as you backed away towards your friends. “same day and time next week?”

“bet, I never got your number tho.” reaching for his phone, as you giggled in the distance. Testing his patience on how much time and effort he’d really put into getting to know you, Opening the passenger door with a small smirk. “I know, see you next week ony..”

Leaving ony nothing but the memory of you and a mental note to be here waiting for you the next week.

#nysrage works ✭#black writers #onyankopon x reader #rollerskater!ony au #ony #aot onyankopon #aot x black!reader #aot x chubby reader #onyankapon #aot onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x chubby reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon #ony x black reader

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bangaveragewhitewine · 2 months

Text

baby, be my valentine

dad!Steve Harrington x mom!Reader

February, 2000

A snapshot of Saturday morning with the Harrington's. In between toddler-cuddles and sister-squabbles, Steve has a very important question for you ❤️

In the same universe as soft slow, morning glow & hearts are wild creatures

Word Count: 5.3K

Contents: Sickeningly romantic loverboy Steve Harrington comes with his own warning. Heavy flirting and some kisses. Steve refers to you as his wife / Mrs Harrington. Parental domesticity - Steve & Reader have two kids. Valentine's vibes.

Author's Note: After a very frustrating few months, I found some sort of spark to write something and here we are. Easing myself back in gently, with my preferred brand of cosy domesticity and warmth. Proof-read by @specialagentmonkey. Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

Steve Harrington was a romantic.

He was a self-proclaimed hopeless romantic until he met you. After you smiled at him that first night almost ten years ago everything felt possible and full of hope.

Steve was easy to love, despite years of believing that he was not, that he would never be loved by someone in the way he wanted and needed. You were careful with his battered and bruised heart, nursed it back to health with your sweet kisses and gentle hands.

After years together, marriage and a house and children, you could swear on it that Steve had only got more romantic and loving with age. You were sure that he spoke each of the love languages fluently.

Physical touch was doled out in spades; he liked to have you always within reach of him, a hand in your back pocket (and yours in his ideally), gentle fingers brushing back your hair or beneath your chin so he could gaze at your pretty face. The weight of his hand against your hip, squeezing as he passed you by in the kitchen, or your shoulders when he knew you were feeling tired and tense; Steve’s touch gave you butterflies every time.

You never had to de-ice your car on cold mornings or fill the tank with gas. He had mastered the perfect bubble bath, filled deep and topped with fluffy bubbles - Steve knew too when to leave you alone in there with your book and a candle and silence, and when you wanted to rest back against his chest and talk about nothing and everything until your fingers and toes were pruny.

There was never a need to wonder whether he loved you; he told you every day. How beautiful you were, how proud he was of you. You both made sure your daughters knew too, that they were adored, that they were beautiful and smart and good. Steve listened too, remembered the little things you told him and loved seeing your eyes sparkle when he recalled something tiny from weeks ago. He surprised you with flowers and always bought the chips you liked when he was doing the groceries.

You were Steve Harrington’s favourite person and he was yours too. There was plenty of love to give and room in your hearts to spare when your girls came along, Beth and then Ava. Steve had learned a lot from his own Dad, though it took him a few tough years to figure it out. He learned how not to cherish your wife, how to make your kid feel totally worthless in a house full of valuable, breakable things. He promised himself that he would never be his father, do everything his father had failed to do. In a way, that is what made him the good man he was today. You were proud to be Mrs Steve Harrington.

February in Chicago was freezing, but the promise of brighter warmer days kept you going. On the Saturday before the big day, you wake to an empty bed. It was not unusual with Steve, who spent the mornings in the den with the girls and Saturday morning cartoons. Instead of his messy bedhead on the pillow beside yours was a bright red envelope. It took your sleepy brain a few moments to figure it out, but once you did you felt warm all over with butterflies swirling in your belly like a schoolgirl.

The card inside shows Snoopy holding a big red heart. When you open it, in Steve’s neat writing, is a simple question:

Will you be my Valentine? Steve x

You press your smiling face into his pillow, breathing in your husband's musky, lovely scent. An almost overwhelming wave of cuteness aggression crashes over you and you want to squeeze Steve until he wheeze-laughs and says something gorgeously charming like ‘down, girl’ or calls you his strong lady, asks for tickets to the gun show.

Nine Valentine's Days together and he always found a cute way to ask you before the day even arrived. Pre-kids there were flowers delivered to your workplace, a question whispered in between kisses lavished on your neck in the months counting down to your wedding. When Beth was born, he dressed her in a pink babygrow with red hearts and enlisted her cuteness to ask the question. When she got a bit bigger, sentient enough to understand it a little more, he would ask her too. When Ava joined the Harrington Crew, Steve found himself with three Valentines and felt like the luckiest man alive.

You think about the card and present tucked away in your closet to give him on Monday morning, a red envelope with your heart poured out inside that matched the nicely wrapped new Chicago Blackhawks jersey (with two tickets tucked in the collar). You cannot wait to see his face when he opens it.

Thinking about him, Steve’s smile, makes you miss him next to you. It makes you miss the warmth and weight of his arms made stronger from carrying car seats and all of the grocery bags in one go. Beth’s giggly voice travels upstairs, barely breaching the bedroom door but it is enough to make you ache with the need for morning hugs and toddler kisses.

You tiptoe downstairs to the den to find Steve in his comfy throne (his spot on the sofa, the left side near the side table with the lamp and TV remote and his coffee cup gone cold). He is watching the girls watch Bear in the Big Blue House. Ava is mesmerised by it, standing with one little hand on his pyjama pantsed knee and the other clutching a bottle. Beth sits cross-legged a few feet away, a little smile on her face because she loves Bear. Steve is just glad it’s not Barney & Friends - he loathes Barney and his friends.

You take a mental snapshot before Ava’s bat-like hearing makes her head whip around to spot you at the door. Her face melts into a beaming baby-grin (a toddler now, but she’s still got that gorgeous baby fat that you want to bite and nuzzle).

Babbling ‘Mama!’ she bee-lines to you and you wrap her to your chest with equal eagerness.

“Good morning, little one,” you whisper to her cheek, kissing it over and over as her dimples pop. Beth’s arms wind around your legs, head against your hip (she should never be this tall!) and you drop one hand to stroke her bed-head hair. “Hi Betty Bee.”

When you look at Steve he has a soft smile on his lips, everything is okay in the world now that you are here.

It makes your heart skip a beat. You feel just the same, everything is good. The washing machine has been acting up and your back still aches from when you slipped on ice after Christmas. There was a lice outbreak at Steve’s school in January and you both still get the phantom itches and have to check the girl's hair, just in case. But everything is good.

“Morning, handsome.”

“Hi, pretty lady.”

You can see that simmering excitement, barely contained beneath the surface. Did you see the card? Do you still think it’s sweet? Are you going to be his Valentine? You make him feel seventeen and stupid again.

Beth is chatting at breakneck speed and pulling you over to sit on the sofa as Ava’s curious hand wiggles beneath your fluffy robe.

“Mama! Tut-ter!” she says, pointing at the worried blue mouse, “Oh no!”

“Bear said I smell like warm an’ cosy, like a good sleep! I did have a good sleep!” Beth says, tapping your knees with busy fingers.

“Really? Let me smell...” Your Bear-like sniffing sends her into a fit of giggles when your breath tickles her neck, leaning against her Dad’s legs to evade the ticklish feeling.

“Mm, so warm and cosy,” you agree, before giving Ava the same treatment.

Steve feels a little bit like he might die if he does not get a kiss from you soon. Ava’s honey-blonde head blocks his way in for a smooch against your cheek, resting against your shoulder with a sigh too big for a two-year-old.

When Beth is distracted again by the television, you turn your body a little to look at Steve. He’s already looking at you and it feels like the sun is shining on your face, bright gold in the grey chill of the morning.

“Hi.” Your voice is a whisper across the youngest Harrington’s head. “Miss you.”

“Miss you,” Steve says, inching closer to you out of the warm Dad-shaped groove he has made on the sofa. His arm brings you and Ava closer, manoeuvring a kiss to your lips without squishing the little one too much. She complains anyway against your neck and earns herself a kiss from Steve as an apology.

“Kiss ‘gen, Dada!” she insists, and is only placated when her cheek is well and truly smooched. Her laughter tickles your neck until it is damp with baby breath.

He is still wondering whether you saw the card, feels a little silly asking in case you think he is corny or in case it had slipped beneath the duvet after he left.

“Up long?” you ask when she settles again, eyes on the screen. It’s barely after eight-thirty but his coffee is long gone cold.

“Ava woke at seven fifteen-ish, woke up Beth. I might have promised breakfast out if they were quiet and not wake you…” Steve watches your face for a reaction, hoping the lure of waffles and breakfast that you don’t need to do dishes after can win you over to his well-meaning-but-morally-skewed bribery. The creases from the pillow on your cheek make him feel fond and he chances another kiss over Ava’s head, pressed right on the pillow-marks. Her cute scowl is worth it to see your smile.

“I think that’s a great idea. Brains and beauty, huh? I’m a lucky woman, Harrington.”

That makes Steve smile, a shade of coy confidence. “Well, I’m a lucky guy, Harrington.”

There is a fluttering feeling deep in your chest, close to where Ava is stroking the collar of your pyjama shirt, but this is one hundred per cent Steve. Beside you, he basks in his own loved-up feeling, that sense of warmth and calm.

“Lucky us.” You turn and land a quick kiss on the side of his head. “Can we go to Bakehouse?” You are already dreaming of waffles with chocolate chips and strawberries, and crispy hashbrowns and coffee.

“S’a date,” he says, winking.

Ava turns in your lap, her eyes are back on the screen but yours are fixed on Steve, the smile lines around his eyes and the tired crescents beneath them, the stubble on his cheeks.

“I got your card.”

Steve’s heartbeat triples at your coy little smile. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. You’ve got yourself a Valentine, handsome.”

Steve beams brighter than the sun. “Cool. Prepare to get totally loved-on.”

Laughter bubbles from your lips, a giddy feeling vibrating through your bones. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. You’re getting so spoiled, baby.” Plain and simple; the sky is blue and the grass is green, and Steve Harrington is a romantic motherfucker.

You cannot stop smiling, cheeks aching as Steve presses one more lingering kiss there. “Okay, Cassanova. I’m ready to be ‘sooo spoiled’.”

He runs a hand through his messy hair, feeling all too pleased with himself.

“You wanna grab a shower before we go?” you ask.

His smile melts into a weak laugh, “Oh, you wound me, babe.” Steve lolls his head the other way to pantomime sniffing himself. “Not bad…”

“I like it when you’re musky.” You really do. You can’t make the most of it anymore, but when he comes back from a run or coaching basketball at the school, there’s something about sweaty pink-cheeked Steve that makes you feel a little bit crazy.

“But,” you continue, “if you go while they’re distracted, you can shower in peace.” Your fingers brush through the crushed baby curls at the back of Ava’s head, tickling the back of her neck until she squirms and cuddles back against you.

Steve softens and rests his head against the couch. “God, I love you.”

“Mm, I know. Love you more, Valentine.” You accept another smiley kiss and pout for one more because you need it.

“Go shower, stink. Bear will call you out if you stay for the next episode.”

You smirk when he rolls his eye at you, murmuring a playful ‘alright, jeezusss’ before squeezing Ava’s foot gently. His knees crack and Steve barely suppresses an all-out Dad Groan when he stands. Pinching your lips together barely contains your laughter, hidden against your toddler’s head when Steve narrows his eyes at you.

He is barely out of the room when you slide into the warm groove left behind, bringing cuddly Ava with you as Beth sings the ‘Goodbye Song’ as a duet with Bear. She joins you on the sofa and wiggles right up under your arm as the credits and advertisements roll.

“Mommy, are we going out for breakfast? Daddy said we might, if we were little angels.” Beth asks, resting her bony chin against your arm to look at you.

“Mmm, you’re always a little angel, Bethie.” You wink at her and watch her glow. “And Ava, my angel baby.”

“So can we?” she pushes, cherubic and smart.

“I think we can, sweetie.”

Beth wiggles with excitement before whispering to Ava, “We did it! Angel-girls!”

The thrill is contagious and Ava is wiggly with excitement. “Yay!”

They make you dissolve into a puddle of sugar with how sweet they are. You pull yourself together and crystallise back into Mom.

“Are you going to help me decorate for Valentine's later? We can do some crafts, hang up some bunting...” You watch Beth’s eyes go wide.

“Yes! I love Vanentimes!” she insists. “Miss Janine says, she says we making cards! On Monday. Van-en-time cards!”

With wide-eyed Mom-enthusiasm, you match her smile. “That’s so fun. Who are you going to give your card to? Do you know who you want to ask to be your Valentine?”

Beth considers it as you brush her hair away from her face. “Ummm. Maybeeee… Daddy!” Her smile shows off her perfectly milk-white baby teeth

Heart warmed, you stroke her soft cheek. “I think Daddy would be over the moon if you asked him to be your Valentine, babe.”

“I’ll ask Daddy, and Ava will ask you!” she decides.

Ava backs her up, “Yah, Mama!”

Beth giggles and tucks herself against you to watch the screen again. You don’t miss how she whisper-sings along to the theme song and looks up at you to make sure you’re watching too.

The need for coffee is pushed way back in favour of soaking up the quality time with your girls, how cuddly they are with you on this cold February morning. It’s cosy and perfect until it’s not, but those ten minutes were pretty great. Beth wants her turn sitting on your lap and Ava is absolutely not having it. It’s nice to be the centre of attention, but not when the two warring parties are tearful and are still learning how to process their emotions and words.

“Beth, please don’t push your sister. That’s really not kind,” you say. The smile-ache feels long gone and instead, that line between your brows feels deeper than the Grand Canyon.

“Ava hitted me! I did’in push her!” Her voice wobbles dangerously as she insists that she was pushing her sister's hand away. “I- I- wanna sit o-on you, Mommy!”

Ava is all out crying against your chest and your soothing circling back rub is doing nothing to comfort her upset.

There’s a particular heartache you feel when they both need your attention. It tugs hard that knot of anxiety in your chest; tears you can fix but you can’t figure out how to fix it fast enough. You want to gather them both into your lap at once and hold them both, but their pushing hands and kicking feet aimed at each other (sister-enemy #1) do you no favours.

You carefully lift Ava and place her down in your seat, keeping enough distance between them in case of any rogue pinching fingers. You kneel in front of the sofa, knees cushioned by the rug. “Listen to Mommy, please. Let’s take one big deep breath in, okay? All of us. Hold my hands.”

Their little hands slip into yours, both copying you to take deep shuddering breaths. It works better with Beth because she is older, a little wiser, she knows the drill. But Ava sniffles her way through it like a trooper, doing her best.

“Now we blow out the air.” Your big breath tickles their faces and makes the wispy hair around their faces fly, pulling tiny scrunch-nosed smiles onto their faces.

“Good. One more big big big breath.” Your thumb rubs tiny circles on their hands as you help them (and yourself) settle the big feelings. “You girls just got a bit frustrated, that’s okay. I love having you both sitting with me, it’s my favourite thing ever. But we have to be gentle and careful with each other.”

Sweet kisses are pressed to their hands in turn. “There’s plenty of Mommy to go around, no need to fight over me. I love you both so much.” You open your arms to gather them up, a few final tears soaked up by your robe.

Beth’s adjustment to Big Sister after two years of being the sole focus of your attention had gone mostly okay, but as Ava got bigger you could see the moments when she struggled with it all. You and Steve always made sure she got quality time with each of you, but it was still tricky at times.

“Are we all okay now?” you ask, watching them nod tentatively, “It’s okay if we’re not, we can take more deep breaths...” Neither girl lets go but you manage to move your head back to look at their pretty faces.

Ava rubs at her cheek and rests her head on you with another big sigh. “Oh-kay, Mama.”

“I’m okay, Mommy,” Beth promises.

You kiss their cheeks and tap your fingers on their backs. “If you’re okay, Mommy is okay too.” Neither really want to let go of you and that’s okay.

“Let’s go get dressed and we can start our day. Daddy’s going to bring us for breakfast. That’s going to be so nice, huh?” you suggest, hoping to distract and cheer them up. “I want waffles and some yummy strawberries.”

Steve’s voice at the door makes you startle.

“Good choice, Mama.” He has a small frown between his brows, a towel around his bare shoulders with his jeans already on. His hair is combed-through and damp, and his gold chain glints around his neck and collarbones. You don’t let yourself look at the happy trail disappearing beyond his waistband, though it is tempting.

“We okay?” he checks, looking at you. He brings with him an energy that makes the tense room feel light again. It is something you can’t quite name but it feels like everything will be okay again.

“We’re okay. Just a sister squabble. We took some breaths, didn’t we?”

Steve had introduced that trick - his school councillor certification came in handy at home too. You could simply not do this without him.

“Yeah, we okay now.” Beth hugs Ava, a little for show but mainly because she loves her. “Sorry Ava. I did’in mean to push you, I jus’ wanted to sit with Mommy too.”

Ava is too little to get it but she likes hugs and she loves Beth so she baby-hugs her right back.

“I get it. I like sitting with Mommy as well,” Steve says, hands on his hips. “So are you three going to get this show on the road or am I going for breakfast all by myself?”

You try to hide your smile in your robe but he knows that the Dad-routine really does it for you. “You going to ask us if we’re ‘ready to rock and roll’ next, Stevie?”

“Maybe, guess you’ll have to wait and see.” Steve winks at you as the girls hop off the sofa and make their way towards him. “You need a diaper change, and you need a hairbrush.” His finger points at Ava, then Beth as they hold hands now.

“And you.” You are next. “Need a kiss.”

Beth laughs when you fake-swoon and Ava squeals in delight at your silliness.

“How romantic. Come sweep me off my feet, I think I’m stuck.” You could haul yourself up from the floor but Steve’s warm hands do a much better job of helping you up. He sneaks an ass-grab while delivering the kiss you need so badly. With giggly kids present, you can only let it linger for a few moments but it is enough for now.

“My hero.” He earns himself one more peck before you pat his behind toward the stairs, the girls already waiting by the stair gate like the little angels they are. You spare him from your chilly fingers on his bare back as you follow them up - he always finds a way to get you back for that.

Steve scoops Ava up to change her diaper and dress her in something warm for the day and you shepherd Beth to pick an outfit. You can hear him wrangling her to lie down on her changing mat as you make Beth’s bed and pick up the fallen teddies from the floor.

“What are we thinking, babe? Maybe your pink cords and a sweater? Or…?” you suggest, turning to see her looking at her own reflection in the mirror on her wardrobe door.

Your arms wrap around her as she leans back into your legs, sharing a cheesy smile in the mirror. “You’re so pretty, Betty.”

“I look like you!” she beams, tilting her head back to look at you. The angle can’t be any good, she’s seeing the worst angle of your chin and right up your nose, but to Beth you are beautiful. “Daddy says I’m mini-Mommy, coz our nose and smile is the same!”

You cannot deny that Beth is more you than Steve in looks but she is bless with a beauty mark or two like his, you think they make her extra gorgeous.

“Let’s see?” For a few moments, you smile and pull faces with each other in the mirror before agreeing she is definitely all you. It’s quiet(er) down the hall, meaning Ava has stopped evading Steve and the clean diaper.

The pink cords are set aside for preschool on Monday and you dress Beth in a long-sleeve striped turtle-neck top and dungarees to keep the warmth in. She agrees to a woolly cardigan over-top and her snow boots, but only if her hair is half up with her butterfly clips - it’s a fair deal and she looks adorable. Her fifth birthday looms a few months away and you can already feel your heart aching in the best way.

“Beth Harrington, you are so gorgeous,” you say as she swishes her arms and bounces happily in front of the mirror again. She has his sparkle in her eyes that is so Steve, it hits you right in the chest. “Will you help me pick out my clothes, please? You’re a fashion expert.”

Nodding eagerly, Beth runs at you for a hug as tight as her little arms can manage. “Yep! We could match, Mommy! Please?!”

When she looks at you like that, with huge brown Bambi-eyes like her Dad, it’s hard to say no. Not that you want to.

“I’d love that.” You stand from her bed and feel her little hand slip into yours as you make your way down the hall to your bedroom.

It smells like Steve after his shower, warm and fresh with a hint of something spicy. He has made the bed and your Valentine's card is pride of place next to a photo of the girls on your bedside table. Beth zeroes in on it as you pick out some underwear and switch the bathroom fan off.

“Mommy, a card! Look!” she gasps.

“It’s from Daddy, he asked me to be his Valentine.”

You watch her eyes go wide before her face splits into a smile. “Daddy looooves you!”

“He does. And I loooooove him.” You wiggle your shoulders for emphasis, pulling more delighted laughter from your eldest.

While she strokes the sparkly heart on the card in awe, you pull on your jeans and pick out some top and cardigan options for Beth to choose from. You forgo the butterfly clips, but once you are dressed, you and your Mini-Me match quite nicely.

“Woah. Too much beauty in this room, I gotta leave,” Steve says when he joins you, pretending to shield his eyes.

Ava runs past you and climbs on the bed with Beth, a tornado in cosy pink and lilac leggings and a matching fleecy top. Her hair is in pigtails and you swear she ran right out of a JCPenney catalogue.

Steve is still in just his jeans, his hair mostly dry now after taking on Ava’s morning routine which primarily consists of her evading capture until she is limp with laughter.

With the girls minorly distracted, you take the chance to give Steve that appreciative once over. His tummy has this beautiful pudge that you want to press your face against and bite. He filled out a little more over the years, much to his initial disdain, though he did not care so much when he realised just how much you loved those softer edges.

Steve watches you do it, feels the warmth of your gaze roll over his body. You could surely be the death of him, making him boil over or implode with desire.

“Hey, handsome. Are you going to get this show on the road or are we going to have to do this breakfast thing all by ourselves?” You feel smug, parroting his words back at him and catching him off-guard.

His tongue presses into his cheek as he shakes his head, smiling down at his own socked feet. “You…” Steve shakes his head again. His hands feel huge on your hips when he squeezes past you, closer than he needs to be but still not close enough.

There’s a heat in his stare as he pulls a navy Henley on, then a sweater. He dials it down quickly when Beth remembers out loud the time when she saw Uncle Dusty’s cat throw up a hairball last summer.

You try not to laugh at her totally out-of-the-blue memory but nod along anyway, remind her how gross it was. “Good remembering, Betty.”

“Meee-ow!” Ava chirps next to her, proud of herself when she makes everyone laugh. “Cat!”

Steve cups her little face. “You’re a funny bunny, Ava.” He squishes her cheeks and rests a kiss on her forehead before giving Beth the same attention. “And you! Best remember-er in this house, huh? I had forgotten all about that.”

He had actively tried to forget it. It ruled out ever getting a cat, especially when Ava tried to touch said hairball. The memory makes him shudder.

Once everyone has brushed their teeth and used the bathroom, you bundle everyone up in coats and hats and gloves and pack into the car. It’s freezing cold but a morning out of the house is what you all need. A morning with no breakfast to make or dishes to wash is worth braving the cold for.

You feel toasty enough with your three favourite people, and Steve could swear that your hand on his thigh as he drives is all he needs to keep him warm.

“You look extra gorgeous today,” he says when you stop at a red light, the girls happily distracted in the backseat.

“Laying it on thick today.” Steve is easy to tease. “I already said I’d be your Valentine, Stevie. Consider me buttered up.” You squeeze his leg through the denim to lock in your promise.

“I’m being serious,” he insists. “Besides, I know you’re all loved up with me. You want to kiss me sooo bad.” His voice is like a song as he returns your teasing.

“Oh, I do. I even wrote your name in a heart in my diary.”

“Cute.” His teeth shine when he grins, glancing over at you before starting to drive again. “You want to go on a date with me? Dinner and some drinks. How ‘bout it. I’ll be real good to you, baby. Have you home by ten…”

Your laugh echoes around the car, cutting over the car radio quietly playing the Backstreet Boys and Lauryn Hill.

“What’s funny? Did Daddy make a joke?” Beth asks, wanting to be in on it immediately. “Tell me!”

She is quick, but Steve matches her. “What do you call a cat with a lemon in its mouth?”

You don’t know where he pulls them from, it’s probably deep in the Dad Manual, but it keeps the older girl thinking for a moment.

“Um… Lemony?”

He catches her eye in the rearview. “A sour puss.”

There’s a beat as she makes sense of it in her head, and you’re already groan-laughing when Beth gets it and joins in. She sets her sister off and Steve feels like King of the Car.

“Thanks guys, I’m here all week.”

Beth is tickled-pink and repeats the joke again for Ava who doesn’t get the word play yet but laughs when her sister cracks up again.

“So?” Steve asks you.

“Your jokes suck.”

“You laughed.”

“It was at your expense.”

He winces at that. “You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”

With a coy smile, you counter, “You can take it, big boy.”

You watch his cheeks flush minutely, just like you knew they would. “And Eddie. Stop that,” he mutters, “Anyway. You never answered my question.”

Steve looks at you expectantly as he waits for a car to reverse out of a space right outside the cafe. If it wasn’t sub-zero you could have walked. Maybe in the spring.

“Ohhh.” Your smile is coy as you remember his pitch for your date. “Okay, Romeo. You can take me out.”

He grins, trying not to look quite so pleased with himself and failing miserably. “Cool. Tonight at eight. Rob’s taking the girls.”

As Steve swings the car into the parking spot, you sit in stunned silence. He switches the engine off and watches you for a moment before concern drips in, second-guessing himself.

“Is that okay…?”

“You… Steve, of course it’s okay!” You unclip your seatbelt to hug him across the gear stick, peppering kisses to his stubbly cheek. “Thank you,” you murmur. You can feel the relieved sigh leave his body as you crush him in a hug.

Steve steals a kiss from your lips. “Don’t thank me. I promised to spoil you.”

He earns himself another kiss with his sweet thoughtfulness as the girls begin to complain a little - Beth because she’s ‘sooooo hungry’ and wants to know why you’re kissing again, and Ava because she is sick of her car seat and simply must be freed from it.

“Alright, alright, we’re getting out now. Hold your horses, ladies,” Steve says, faux exasperation on his face that softens when he looks at your smiling face again.

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” you say, warmed from the inside out with pure adoration.

Even though the girls are getting whingey, and it’s starting to snow again and the cafe looks busy, you could not be happier or more content with life than you are right now. Everything is good.

Steve unclips his seat belt and zips his jacket all the way up. He winks at you before opening the door to start the endeavour of freeing the girls from the back seat with you and making sure they don’t slip on the ice, or wander in front of a car, or get too loud in the cafe.

“Love you more, Mrs Harrington.”

Thank you for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington fluff #bangaveragefics #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington series

252 notes · View notes

hp-hcs · 2 months

Note

Can maybe request some slytherin boys with gay awakeing trope? Maybe headcanons or shorts

gay awakening headcanons — mlm! slytherin boys x male! reader

hella short cause of some ✨personal stuff✨ going on, but i just wanted to get something out 🤷‍♂️

me? blame my shitty writing skills on my current health problems? what no never

❕not proofread❕

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

mattheo

immediately has a mental breakdown

identity crisis anyone?

i feel like he would have that panicky gay moment where he realizes that his friend is actually his More Than Friend, ykwim?

like, you just do something innocuous like sling your arm over his shoulders while walking to class and babyboy just FREEZES

the second that happens, he immediately drops out of your life while he freaks out gets his shit together

like, homeboy just deadass vanishes

doesn’t show up to any of his classes

doesn't show up to quidditch practice (draco threatens to kill him for that, cousin or not)

meanwhile you’re just there like 🧍 “what did i do?”

because my lil darlin mattheo cannot healthily express any emotion ever, he would “solve” his problem by just like, purposefully running into you in the halls and kissing your cheek, then just full-on 🏃💨 SPRINTING 🏃💨 away without a word

theo

also has an identity crisis, he’s just better at hiding it

gotta save face, amirite?

but anyways-

you weren’t even doing anything out of the ordinary, you were just hanging out with him in his room and ended up lighting his cigarette for him

that’s it. homeboy is already whipped for ya.

like, straight up simp.

i feel like theo’s a “i’m definitely going to have a panic attack over this at two in the morning, but for now i’m just going to not think and enjoy 😌💅” kind of mentality

just flat out says it

“you know, you look really hot today.”

y/n: 😳😏………..💏💋😘

draco

have you ever had a friend that was so clearly Not Straight but they just kept denying it for years before finally coming out?

well that’s draco <3

you were at a party and agreed to join some kind of kissing game

like, spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven, post office…

(does anybody actually still play post office?)

and obviously, you both end up having to kiss each other duh

homeboy is not doing well

but not in a “what?? i don’t know what’s going on!!” kind of way

in a “ah shit my friends were right every time they called me gay, fuck” kind of way <3

immediately start dating after the party and everyone’s like 🤨👀

blaise

i feel like blaise already knew/suspected, but just didn’t have the vocabulary to describe his sexuality, ykwim?

i’m getting pansexual vibes frfr

could not give less of a fuck

is just like “shit alright, d'you wanna make out then?”

i mean……..it’s not like you’re gonna say no

this man. tHIS MAN. he’d be such a gentleman omfg

also i’m not gonna say sugar daddy but sugar daddy

would absolutely buy you anything you even looked at. you looked at a ten thousand galleon wristwatch in a luxury store? it’ll be on your bed waiting for you by the time you get home

if anyone was homophobic or wtv, he wouldn’t beat them up per se, but he would do something unnecessarily extra, like wear a dress and makeup just to be like “wdym? we’re a straight couple, obviously”

(he would tell his friends about the homophobe though, and they wouldn’t be quite as composed and respectful as him 👊😠🩸😵😵‍💫)

enzo

this man seriously does not care

like, he’s just like “oh i’m queer? hahah that’s crazy”

this man has no qualms about asking you out in the middle of class in front of everyone

like, in the middle of potions or smth he’d just be like “y/n, wanna go get dinner sometime?”

and you’re like “…aren’t you straight?” 🧍

enzo: “who knows? not me! does saturday at eight work?”

he’s so silly goofy i just love him sm

this boy would be a hella fine kisser, i just know it

WOULD ASK YOU TO THE YULE BALL 🕺🕺

AND WOULD GET YOU GUYS MATCHING BOUTONNIÈRES 💐

regulus

“ah shit i owe the boys twenty galleons, fuck”

resigned, more than anything

he can’t even come out, either cause like, what would that even be?

“guys, i have to tell you something……i’m gay”

“yep. what do you have to tell us??”

you asked him out cause you thought he was gay

and he was just like 😳🤨🤷‍♂️🙂👍

you guys went to fortescue’s!!! 🍦🍨🍧

(he’s def a mint chocolate chip kind of guy i’m just saying)

y’all end up being like, the it couple at hogwarts i don’t make the rules

318 notes · View notes

saleeba · 2 months

Text

the baby-making manual ; william saliba

summary ♡ baby fever hits the salibas full force.

pairing ♡ william saliba x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, husband!william, kissing, p in v sex, cunnilingus, reader & wilo are so broody & so in love with each other, missionary, doggystyle, riding, lotus position (yes i’m fucking depraved don’t look at me like that 🤕), soft romantic vibes, breeding kink, praise, body worship, size kink ofccc, clitoral stimulation, titplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it unless ur name is y/n and ur starring in this fic 🥸), creampie(s), a smidgen of cockwarming, blink and u miss the one french word in here, talks about having kids, aftercare included !!

a/n ♡ the title is so goofy & nobody asked for this but the concept has been eating at my mind since the end of summer + i've had this in the drafts since oct so i gotta put me first lucius 😫😩😫😩😫 anyway this is day one of converting you all into wilo girlies hehe WAKE UP WORLD‼️ pls lmk how u all find this fic btw!! ik it won’t get as much attention as my jude ones bc there prob aren’t as many fans but i rlly would appreciate anything u have to say about it !!! 🫶🏽🥰 enjoyyyy mes chéris!! 😌❤️

an unexpectedly warm spring’s saturday had given cause to an impromptu barbecue held by your parents, and you and william had found yourselves in the company of most of your relatives for the day. how your mother had convinced half the family tree to be present on such short notice you will never know but you were grateful nonetheless, extremely happy to especially see the loved ones you haven’t seen since getting married to your now-husband a couple of years ago.

it’s close to eleven in the night now, your arrival at home being so belated due to the clash between your insistence that you and william had to go home as he had training the next morning and your father’s greater insistence that the two of you stay a little longer for another cup of tea, another plate of food, even the whole night if you wanted to. in the end, you had to put a politely firm foot down, more for william’s sake who can’t say no to your parents for the life of him, and who was on his way to accepting your dad’s invitation to stay the night before you spoke up. you knew the events of last night would repeat for the morning, your parents in a tug-of-war with you to make you guys stay for breakfast but you supported your case with the argument of the long drive home and the fact that mikel wouldn’t appreciate william’s tardiness the next day, especially at such a significant time in the season.

you’re sitting in bed by yourself right now with a novel in hand – william having gone to take a much-needed relaxing shower – inwardly laughing to yourself over your husband’s people-pleasing antics and your mind meanders to the scenes of this afternoon, the sounds of children’s laughter and adults’ gossip in the air accompanied with the smokey scent of grilled food taking over your senses. you reencounter images of william chasing your little cousins, nieces and nephews around the garden — small, sweet giggles mixed with william’s deeper chuckles as they’re all engaged in an exhilarating game of tag, little feet and large padding around the property.

your thoughts are pulled back into reality when the ensuite door clicks open, a cloud of steam puffing into the bedroom before it reveals your husband clad in nothing but a white towel around his waist, droplets of water dotted on his toned chest and abdomen. it’s a sheer sight for sore eyes and one that you will never tire of so you shamelessly watch as he smiles at you before gliding across the room, moving to his vanity to apply generous amounts of body lotion to bring back moisture to his skin, the action making his skin glow so prettily under the warm lighting of the bedroom.

it’s these moments of silent appreciation that have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the universe; an adonis of a lover in your bedroom, one that would move heaven and earth at your beck and call, and there’s denying that you would do the same for him.

in all your daydreaming, william’s moved on to pulling his pajamas on for bedtime, a pair of dark grey boxer shorts acting as said pajamas as he opts to go shirtless in fear of overheating on such a toasty night. you place your novel down, the previously read page distinguished with a bookmark, as william places a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking you both in under the thin sheets.

“mum was really bad with the baby talk this time, wasn’t she?” you turn your body on its spot, head propped up by a bend of your arm as you face william who lifts his head at your rhetoric question. “i mean, you did look so fucking adorable with the kids today so i don’t know if i should say sorry on her behalf.”

“not at all,” he only lets out a breathy laugh, now mirroring you in the shift of his own body. “i’ve had most people asking me about it now.”

“really?”

you’re quite shocked to learn that there are indeed a lot of people who are eager to see william and yourself have a family of your own and that it’s not just pestering from your mother in particular, who has asked about when she will be seeing grandchildren from her daughter and “favourite son-in-law” from the moment the two of you had just about exchanged rings. you’ve grown accustomed to answering with the same old ‘we want to focus on us/our careers/our freedom’ response but there’s a little curious something that’s pulling the two of you to consider everyone’s requests.

“mmhm, i think i could count the number of people at the club that have asked me about it using my hands and my feet,” the pair of you laugh at this, a shake of your head over how believable that comment is despite it sounding so silly since the environment of your husband’s workplace is so close-knit and everyone is comfortable with each other. “it’s not just that, though, is it?”

“no?” you question his tone turned serious now.

“when i see the guys and their kids, i can’t help wondering what i might be like in those sorts of situations, y’know?” you sit up at his words, heart racing a little faster with the way he looks at you; looks into you as he again copies your movements, taking your hands in his after leaning his shoulder against the headboard. “can’t help wondering what it would be like seeing you and a mini version of us in the stands during a match… wanna see our baby matching shirts with their papa, wanna hear their tiny voice cheer my name…”

you swear you feel your heart stop as soon as his lips form the words ‘our baby’.

“oh, william,” you sigh over his thoughts spoken aloud, a slight pang of guilt hitting at your heartstrings and causing your eyes to tear up just a little. “why didn’t you tell me about all this, hm?”

you had no idea of his desire to have children, always assuming his response to everyone’s questions to be the same as yours and believing that he wanted to prioritise football over starting a family with you for at least a couple more years.

“it’s not your fault, sweetheart, not at all.” his fingers swipe under your eyes in precaution against any spilt tears. “having a baby, hell, even wanting a baby... it’s a big deal; it’s hard to just drop it into a conversation if that makes sense.”

“of course, that makes plenty of sense,” his hands grip yours in a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the slightly trembling digits in an attempt to soothe you. “you really want to have a baby with me?”

william laughs softly at your words and the way you sit with your mouth gaping, starry-eyed with a million thoughts racing through your mind.

“no, i want to have a baby with mrs khan next door.” he deadpans, referring to your elderly neighbour, before you shove at his shoulder, a blush overcoming your cheeks as you realise how daft your question is, disbelief over how much william wants to be a dad seeping into the way you’re thinking right now. “you’re the only woman that i want as the mother of my children, y/n, the only one.”

his eyes look even more beautiful in the peek of moonlight through the curtains and you fear your heart may give out tonight, squeezing so hard in your chest with the love that you feel for your husband.

“can i kiss you, baby?” he asks so politely, thumb running over the plumpness of your bottom lip. even after so many years together, he’s always the gentleman but still, you tell him that he doesn’t need to ask anymore — you are his to have as he is yours.

his lips descend upon yours with a gentle force, hands clasping over your waist where the black silk material of your short nightdress stops him from touching the warmth of your soft skin. instead, william decides to pick you up and place you on his lap, the urge to feel your body as close to his as possible controlling his actions, your knees dropping to either side of him as your clothed chest meets his bare one.

as the kiss deepens on what seems like its own accord, you feel yourself growing wetter, thankful for your earlier decision to forgo underwear for the night as you grind down onto william’s lap, the cotton of his boxers creating delicious friction on where you need it the most.

breathless sighs turn into light moans from the two of you as william tightens his grip on your waist with the same strength your core presses down onto his hardening length before he turns you both over to have you on your back, his form hovering over yours, lips ghosting over the nook where your neck meets your shoulders, leaving an eruption of goosebumps in its trail.

in the pleasured shutting of your eyes, you can feel william’s hands pull down the loose straps of your nightdress, then a kiss on each shoulder and then the heat of his breath over your exposed breasts.

“so beautiful, darling,” he looks up to your blushing face, the compliment painting a shy smile on it before his lips wrap around your left nipple with wasting any time. a whine is pulled from your lungs over the way william suckles on the nub, a tiny tug of it between his teeth causing you to arch your chest further into his mouth. of course, he doesn’t forget to pay attention to your right boob, taking his sweet time in kissing and swirling his tongue around the stiffness of the other side. “how did i get so lucky, hmm?”

you whimper in response as he brushes his lips down your body over your nightdress; from under your breasts, over your navel and arriving at the base of your tummy, where he places the firmest kiss of them all atop of the lustrous material.

“william…”

“gonna take care of you, baby, i promise.”

his hands now come down to your thighs, where the inner parts are sticky with arousal, and he hoists the hem of your dress up past your bellybutton, the pressing together of your legs to soothe the ache of your core as a light breeze hits it inciting your husband to part them and find home in the self-made gap. his head lowers to where your pussy lays nearly leaking onto the sheets and your breaths quicken, reaching an all-time rapid high when william plants a kiss on your clit, one so soft that it would’ve been deemed innocent had it not been in the midst of an action so filthy.

in the ‘o’-shapedness of your mouth, amorous sighs escape as he starts his attack on your wetness — mouth open, tongue out, lapping at your juices as you sing his praises in the form of high-pitched moans. his tongue slips past your drenched folds to find your sopping hole, the tip of it poking past your entrance as he’s full-on eating you out now, open-mouthed moans from the simple pleasure of your pussy on his lips almost drowning out your sounds.

there’s a particularly lusty moan from you when his thumb finds your tense clit, a couple of rubs on it releasing a string of cries out of the confines of your lips as your legs tremble from their position on his shoulders. from the very beginning of your married life, william had made it his mission to become well-acquainted with you in the bedroom, and you think he’s succeeded as the way he knows which buttons to press to get you to cum at his mercy is very telling, fingers working expertly in toying with your sensitive nub as your walls clench around nothing but the conjured-up image of cumming all over his mouth and pretty face.

“william… i-” you start but are soon interrupted by the intense sucking of your already pounding clit between his moistened lips. the wail you let leave your body is almost pitiful, the feeling so fucking good but so sudden and unexpected that you fall head-first into your orgasm, crashing into it with a spasm of your thighs around william’s head, pawing at his dark hair for some inkling of relief and grounding since you truly believe you’re about to lose all sense of reality with how strong this orgasm has hit you.

william doesn’t relent despite your convulsions, placing kisses over your clenching pussy and shaky abdomen. you manage to still your involuntary motions to catch a glimpse of his face in all its glory; his lips glistening wet with your release and his eyes darker than ever, impossible to distinguish the colour of his pupils from the colour of his irises, an unfolding plan of what’s to come for you both behind his soft gaze.

“did so, so good for me, my love,” he praises, kissing you through panting breaths from the both of you. “want to feel you around me, fuck, need to feel you around me, baby.”

you go to deny him at first, nestling your hand against the bulge of his boxers but he’s quick to deny you in turn.

“no, baby, tonight’s for you, ok? just wanna take care of everything— take care of you.”

you nod in acceptance, knowing that arguing with him would be futile, a gentle flame in his eyes telling you of his determination to do nothing but be at your service until the sun comes up.

“how do you want me first, amour?”

you almost swoon at the question, unable to believe that you essentially have this man at your mercy now, getting dizzy over choosing whether you want to ride him into oblivion first or save that for later and have him take you from behind to start with. either way, you know that tonight was no night for a meagre one round.

“how about as we are right now?” you suggest, the current arrangement of you on your back and william on top proving perfectly convenient for you guys to start with your favourite position in bed.

“sounds perfect, baby,” he smiles before getting up to rid his body of those grey boxers and then almost leaning over you to pull a condom from the nightstand before he stops himself midway, the both of you realising that this is a habit that will need to be unlearnt now. a pair of giggles erupts between you and a silent agreement to forget the condom for the whole purpose of tonight is sealed with a rerouted kiss from william. he then prompts you to lift your hips so he can slot a pillow underneath them and have you as comfortable as you can get. you can’t resist biting your bottom lip at the pulsating anticipation between the two of you, the sight of his bare cock admittedly making your mouth water.

now back on the bed and parting your legs, william resituates himself in between, this time with his cock in his hand running down your increasingly dripping slit, the occasional dip past your folds making you wince in an addictive combination of overstimulation and urgency.

“shit, angel, i’m sorry,” his apology is sincere as he searches your eyes for signs of discomfort. “we don’t have to do this right now, we can take a break, do you want me to ge–”

“babe, i’m fine, okay?” you huff out a laugh, your husband’s honestly innocent face tickling your tummy and making your core ache even more. “j-just fuck me, will, please?”

his answer comes in the guise of an assured smooch against your swollen lips, taking the quiet opportunity to sink into your wetness, completely raw for the first time, with a loud deep groan that makes your stomach feel like it’s gloriously folding in on itself. you revel in finally having the naked thickness of his cock inside you, experiencing every ridge, vein and inch of smoothness directly between your gummy walls with a hushed fuck before he gets to work on setting a moderate pace — slow and savouring it seems, his way of saying that he wants this to last as long as it possibly can.

"william… so big..." no matter how many times you've been under him and how many times you say it, it will always ring true; the initial stretch and burn that his cock creates for you will always light a fire of delicious friction, tonight being a million times more special than every previous encounter put together. and no matter how many times william hears it, it will always set his mind ablaze, hips now pistoning at an unfathomable speed as he can’t hold back anymore, moaning and groaning about how good you feel uninterrupted around him, how there'll be no one else for him, how you're everything to him. it all has your pussy gushing around him to no end.

your whimpers warn him of another impending orgasm, the tightening clasp of your cunt and the way you’re clawing at the softness of his lower tummy in sheer desperation make william’s movements falter just the slightest, a whine leaving his throat as he can feel his own climax catching up to him.

“close, baby,” he warns in sentences incomplete, brain whirring on pure pleasure and nothing else but the desire to have you cumming around him. he’s afraid that he may finish a fraction too soon and leave you disappointed so his fingers find your stiffened clit again, the caressing of his thumb a little harsher this time around as part of an effort to get you both to cum at the same time.

the pleasure you’re receiving from the touch of his thumb and the stroke of his dick is almost too much, hands willing their way to pull his off of you but the speed at which your second orgasm hits you beats any other competition to the finish line, pussy barely squeezing to trigger william’s first orgasm of the night; your lover climaxes inside of you with a sound so guttural, it has him almost collapsing against your shaking form but you invite him to do so, a tender hand on the back of his head guiding him to a safe haven in the crook of your neck as the strangely comforting feeling of thick, white liquid streams down your inner thighs. heavy breaths saturate the dimly lit room as you lay with your lover for a moment, warm bodies basking in the aftermath of a shared orgasm.

after a comfortable minute or two, william speaks up, his voice dropped to an octave so deep it relights the fire in your seeping cunt before your head can even process his words.

“how does round two sound to you?” he’s asking amidst the plotting of a few kisses up your jawline.

you’re ready to jump his bones again on your own accord so when you hear the request fall from your husband’s lips, it’s an immediate “yes please” from you, not even bothered to feel shameful about the reeking desperation of your response.

a knowing chuckle and another kiss seal the deal, william pulling your now-creased nightdress over your outstretched arms, leaving you completely bare but free; accessible to his every touch. he asks you to turn around onto your hands and knees, setting the pillow down underneath your lower abdomen as a precaution.

“there we go, angel,” he places a tender kiss at the bottom of your spine, running a hand up the natural curve of your back while you anticipate his next action. “gonna make my pretty girl feel so good tonight, she deserves it all.” your thighs divide instinctively in response to his voice and the sight of his cum glistening on your skin has william choking on a moan, needing to stroke his cock on the white-stained slipperiness.

“william, don’t tease,” you beg with a shake of your ass against his crotch to get him to hurry and slip his length inside of you. “can’t wait anymore.”

your husband obliges immediately, having lubricated his dick enough with his own release off your thighs, pushing into your hole with so much more ease and a filthy squelch as the realisation that the majority of his cum from the previous round is still inside of you hits him. oh, it sends william’s entire being into a lustful frenzy.

“f-fuck, baby, listen to how well i filled you up,” he gasps out, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as the dirtiest noises he has ever heard emits from where his cock is connected to your pussy.

you’ve done this position more times than you can count but the raw state of his dick plus the way it definitely plunges deeper from all the lubrication william has created inside you has you growing wetter beyond belief, another layer of arousal helping him reach damn near a whole new dimension of your cunt. you don’t want to lend your name to porno-fuelled incorrect biology but you swear he’s in your cervix right now, the pillow now playing its part in hoisting your bottom half up, back arching so beautifully, making it the perfect setup for william to split you in half with every thrust of his length.

between a melody of cries of his name from your worn lips and his deeper moans, you surprisingly cum without a word of warning; it’s fast and it’s hard and it’s white-hot, almost launching your body off the bed entirely. it’s not so surprising, actually, given the speed of william’s pounding inside of your creaming pussy and the resulting splat-splat-splat noise his actions make, all of it way too much, way too depraved and addicting to try and avoid.

“good fucking girl,” your husband grunts out at the sensation of yet another round of your pussy walls spasming around him, another round of hot cum spurting into your hole as he fills you up with an animalistic fuck! marking the round so differently from the last one, which was so full of love, this one in a tone that is much more lewd and untamed.

you’re still on all fours, moaning softly at the flood of cum that spills out of you from around william’s dick and onto the sheets below, cunt still clenching his shaft which doesn’t seem to get any softer despite the two of you having been at it for nearly two hours without a break. your husband, sheathed still in your core, runs a series of kisses up your back, reaching the back of your ear to leave praises of how good you were for him just then and how pretty you look while he’s balls deep inside of you. eventually, he pulls out with a throaty moan, leaving you panting as you fall onto your back to look up at his fucked out expression.

william’s standing there with his hands on his hips, chest heaving, face all smiley and flushed, an image not too dissimilar to one where he’s fresh off a victory on the pitch. you wish you could take a picture of the scenery in front of you but you trust your memory to sear it into place for you instead.

“fucking hell, if i’m not pregnant by now then i don’t even know what to say!” you laugh out at the mess you’ve both made of the sheets and yourselves, and william joins in before quipping in with a “hmm, we should make sure, just in case, of course.” a cheeky tone in his voice as he snuggles his mouth against your neck, the hair on his chin tickling your skin as you squirm on the bed out of ecstatic amusement.

“okay, okay, but first we have to take a break, babe!” you manage to squeal out before william ceases his tickle attack on you, letting you go to the bathroom while he fetches a glass of water from the kitchen.

by the time you’re finished and clean, william has the bed remade and the glass of water held out by the hand upon your return to the bedroom. you shake your head at him, bemused at this butler act he’s now performing.

“your refreshment, mrs. saliba,” he mocks what you assume to be a posh british accent, his own french one adding so much charm to it.

“i thank you, mr. y/l/n,” you smirk back and take a sip, careful not to choke as william pushes your shoulder in jest with an oi before sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching you set the empty glass down on the nightstand.

“so, about that making sure thing,” you pounce on his lap within a split second, settling your hands on the warmed skin of his shoulders.

william throws his head back in a hearty chuckle. “fucking hell, what was in that water?!”

“shut up and kiss me, saliba.” you command and he doesn’t dare to do anything but oblige, lips catching yours in a heated kiss that reinstalls all elements of hunger and lust inside of the pair of you. running your hands down and over the expanse of his chest has william parting his lips in a low groan, you taking the opportunity to slip your tongue inside his mouth and swallow all of his sugary sweet sounds, not wanting any ears other than your own to hear them. the resumed grinding of your naked crotch on william’s has him hardening quickly, another order from you to go lay himself down on the pillows moving scenes on as rapidly as you like.

“good boy,” you admire the way he’s displayed himself for you, long athletic body sprawled out in all its glory, the moonlight a little brighter now that the night has really settled in. “you look so good like this, william, fuck, need to have you inside me now, baby.” a couple of tugs on his stiff cock and you’re sliding down onto it, william’s hands – slightly sweaty from excitement – holding you in place as you begin to rock and raise your body.

there’s a harmonised whine from the two of you as you’re filled with his thickness once again, william encased in your snug, plush walls, and the swivel of your hips atop him makes his teeth grit in euphoria. seeing this spurs you on more, momentum picked up from the way william throws his head back, leaving his neck at your mercy and you of course can’t help but nip and kiss and lick over it, the sounds being pulled from his throat so saccharine and tuneful.

he pants out with a vice-like grip on your hips, the skin white with the extreme grasp his fingers have on it. “s-slow, baby, slow…” he pleads while you rock and grind and bump into his crotch like a woman gone mad, chasing a high that is just at the tips of your fingers… just a little more.

you whine out his name, scratching at his chest where you had previously been resting your hands for leverage, and he finds a little leeway before taking a gulp of courage and sitting up to meet the stirring of your pelvis with his, cock sputtering up into your cunt as he supports you with his large hands behind your back.

the position is possibly the most intimate you’ve been in — naked chest to naked chest, your nipples rubbing against the softness of his pecs, your knees on either side of him as his are crossed underneath you, body so much smaller than his, lips so close to touching with every jerk and bump but never really kissing, always teasing. it’s all so fucking hot and there’s nothing you want more than for him to fill you up once more.

the knock-knock-knock of another orgasm has you pulling him so close against you, practically forcing him to shift his entire weight on top of you. you feel the need to bury him inside your skin. to be bound entirely and irrefutably. his lips, just now attached to the mounds on your chest, start rambling in his native tongue. you're not quite fluent in french but you've been with william long enough to pick up some things; the important things. through his wanton panting and sighing, he's spilling all his desires to you — telling you that he can't wait to see you swollen with his child, can’t wait to see if they’ll have his hair or your smile, can’t wait for you both to finally be the parents you had dreamed of being. there’s a fire in his words and it sets your whole body alight, scratching down his back in vicious streaks that will surely be present for the next week.

“w-william, please,” you wail, legs burning in their effort to capture your awaiting high. “put a baby in me, fuck, please, fuck a baby into me.” freshly hot tears are fully spilling down your cheeks now, the ecstasy of his cock pounding into you and the promises he’s made to you proving too much and you need relief from it all, desperately.

“gonna do just that, angel, gonna fill you up nice and good,” he moans out, pulling you in closer to his gyrating form. “gonna fill you up over and over until we get that baby.”

and that’s the tipping point for you, your husband’s words, so sincerely sweet yet sinful, being the thing to push you over and have you cumming with a thunderous scream of his name. your pussy gushes around his rigid length, walls fluttering around it so forcefully you’re scared they’ll be stuck like this forever. william soon follows with his own orgasm, a few throaty moans that sound so pretty coming from his plump limps as they match the rhythm with which he spurts his sticky cum into you. your legs tremble in both exhaustion and bliss around william, and he’s quick to soothe them over with his hands, mouth landing kisses over your face and your chest.

there’s only a symphony of heavy panting from you both now, and the occasional whimper or soft moan, as william lays on his back with you on top of him, large hands running up and down your back to steady your breathing, his dick still firmly in you. you're pretty sure you've forgotten what it feels like to be empty and without him.

“you okay?” he mumbles into your hair, a loving kiss left on your forehead before he tilts your chin up to look at him, your eyes weary and ready to doze off. you can only muster up an mmhmm but william is determined to end the night perfectly for you.

“hang on, baby, okay?” he requests before slowly pulling out of your heat and dashing to the bathroom where you can hear the din of him rummaging through cupboards and running the bathtub’s taps, leaving you to laze around with a pool of cum leaking out of you. the sudden crash of something metal followed by a shit! is enough to pull you out of the clasps of sleep, however.

your husband reappears swiftly, a boyishly guilty look on his face to which you raise an eyebrow.

“everything’s fine!” he assures your silent questioning. “i want to take care of you right now, though. please?”

you flash him a tired but teasing smile in affirmation and he picks you up bridal-style, giving a quick kiss to your lips before walking you over to the bathtub and gently placing you in the comfortably warm and bubbly water where you feel your muscles instantly relax. the calmingly fragrant scent of chamomile fills your nostrils as you sigh up at your lover.

“thank you, honey,” you speak, a slight croak to your voice from honest exhaustion. william nods at you before plotting another sweet kiss on your temple.

“room for a little one?” he asks with a beautiful grin on his face, teeth all out in his signature style.

“always.” you scoot forwards to make room for him and he slips his much larger frame behind you, instantaneously pulling your back into his chest, hands delicately soothing over your tummy as he delivers a bunch of kisses across the plane of your shoulders.

“sounds stupid but i already have a list of names that i wanna go over with you.” he says shyly after a moment of quiet.

you giggle and set a devoted kiss to the wedding band on his ring finger.

“i’m all ears.”

#MAH DICK FELL AWFF #guys it’s not even funny anymore i NEED him to put a baby in meeeeeeeeee 😫😫😫😫😫😫#literally the only french person that deserves rights EVURRRRRRRR he can put his oui oui baguette right inside this pu-#the only man i would cook and clean for i promiseeeee you #william saliba #william saliba imagine #william saliba smut #william saliba x reader #william saliba x you #william saliba x y/n #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer smut #˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗

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harrysmimi · 1 year

Text

Whiskey

Synopsis: One where Harry falls for someone but he's married

Ps. This one also has an open ending I can write a part two if I get enough requests or responses on this. And idky I named this Whiskey honestly. Hehe.

Wordcount: 13k+

Part 2

More of my work | Read on Wattpad

CW: Mentions of alcohol, absent parents.

......................................................................

Harry had everything!

He owned a multi million dollar company, several smaller businesses. He had lavish manshion, fancy cars and he wore nothing but Gucci.

In his case it seemed to be true; Money can't buy happiness.

He dreaded to go home every evening after work. Truly!

So everyday after he gets off of his meetings and daily check-ins. We made an habit of asking his driver to take him to this pub in the town.

The first time he was there, he found the vibes to be immaculate. Everyone minding their own business, a corner with huddled up by a table having little quizzes, old people hanging out just by themselves or in groups, the bar was mostly empty. Even if it was full, it wasn't suffocating like his fifteen-million dollar mantion was starting to feel to him. A perfect Saturday night.

"Hello, can I please get a whiskey?" He asked the barkeep. It was a girl. She looked up at him confused as if he said something alien to her, spared a glance tothe other bartender. But proceeded to get him his drink with trembling hands, with a coaster placed on the bar she placed his drink on top of it. That's when he noticed she poured a little too much in his glass. With a hesitant smile she got back to her work.

He saw that she had a wipe cloth in her hard, and there was just one other barkeep serving four other people. She wiped around the counter and picked up the empty glassware.

"You don't barkeep that often?" Harry asked, not minding the extra ounce of alcohol he got served. The girl looked at him through her glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose.

It was evident on her face she didn't like working there, but she shook her head in no. Most bartenders would love to have conversations.

"I just help cleaning around." She shrugged.

Harry swore he saw the softest smile on her face there as she threw the cleaning cloth on her shoulder, and went on to get pick up the glasses which were newly abandoned now.

Harry sat there sipping on his drink until she returned. Hearing her voice, he wanted to have a conversation with her, about what, he didn't know.

He downed his Whiskey in one go when he saw come back out, it burnt his throat but it was good kinda burn. He shook his head, letting lit a soft groan of a sigh. He wanted to feel that burn so bad!

"Can I have another, please?" He asked the girl, again.

She glanced over at the barkeep again, sighing she pull out away before she pulled out a clean one to pour another glass of whiskey from him. This time a little less.

"Follow the two finger rule." He told her. She glanced at him confused so, he gestured it to her setting two of his fingers horizontally against his empty glass. She tried to mimick him but Harry noticed how small her hands are in compare to his, but she was smart enough to pick up on it and take the ridges on the glass into consideration when she poured just enough this time and replaced his empty glass on the same coaster.

"Thank you for the help." She said, "I don't make the drink here, so I just didn't know. Please don't tell the owner about this."

"It's alright, love." Harry assured her, "I am Harry by the way."

"YN." She smiled.

Actually smiled at him!

A tiny smile. But it was something at least.

She had to get back to work as she could see her boss glaring daggers at her. But soon enough he asked for another glass lf Whiskey. And watch concern take over her pretty eyes.

"You recently started working here?" He asked, not to be creepy but he just didn't know how to start a conversation with her.

"No, I've been working here for four years." She shared, wiping down the counter in front of ber for the millionth time.

"Strange, and you don't know how to pour a Whiskey?"

"Like, I said, I don't make drinks here. We have Sam for that." She spared the Barkeep a glance who was now mixing an intricate drink which was entertaining enough for the drunk customers. "I don't want to bother him because he's been having a bad day today."

Harry could understand. The man putting up a smile on his face for sure. A completely different scenario than his own but he could relate.

"I see." He sounded.

"Mhmm." She nodded.

Harry handed her his card as he was done for the night. Not wanting to get drunk his ass off and have to deal with a headache and a lecture the next day from his wife. YN returned with his card and his bill. He placed his card back in his wallet just as he was about to slip it back in his pocket, he opened it back up and grabbed all the cash he had, six bills of hundred pounds, he placed it on the bill before he grabbed his phone and ready to leave.

"Harry!" He heard a call of his name, "I, uhh, I think you left this." He turned to look at the girl.

"No, that's for you. A tip." He explained, running a finger under his nose subconsciously.

"This is a lot. I am afraid I can't take it." Her voice was very low and he was stood just an arm's distance from her.

"That's okay, I won't tell anyone." A cheeky smirk took over his features, "have a nice rest of the night, YN. And keep it, please." He shot a little wave before he made his way out feeling the alcohol kicking in. That'll help him sleep.

......................................................................

On the Tuesday night, he figured that the girl he saw on the weekend at the pub only worked on weekends. It was a bummer. But that didn't stopped him from ordering his usual.

"Harry, what the fuck is going on with you?" He heard his wife the first thing when he stepped a foot inside.

"Aella, not now." He sighed making his way upstairs.

"No, you've been coming home late. Now apparently you've been drinking. What the fuck is going on? You don't even want to help me around anymore." Aella hissed at him.

That wasn't true. He does help her around still. She never does one thing for him except cook, he doesn't expect her to do anything either. He does his own laundry, makes his own breakfast because she likes to sleep in, he cleans up after him like a grown human he is, he never once asked her to do anything for him.

Why was he so frustrated you may ask?

It's been more than a year now feeling distanced from his partner of ten years. Aella have been nothing but emotionally abusive to him. Ever since his business had taken off from past year and half, it also meant his work load being doubled up.

He's got about twenty thousand people working for his company doesn't mean it takes away all the responsibilities he's got towards his firm. He takes his work seriously. Though he doesn't mind helping around with chores, he lives there of course he does his part and even more at times. Just this morning he had her yelling right in his ear how she haven't been able to go shopping because he has been spending more time at the office to help her do the house chores, so she can have nice time and go out shopping with her friends.

The love they had when they were eighteen, in college, back when he had nothing but debt to his name. Now she sees him as a some credit card and a house maid, she runs away from spending time with him. Hell, he can't even remember the last time they had a meal together and talked about anything but his works or her shopping around. He can't even remember the last they made love. She doesn't talk to him unless she wants to borrow the credit card or when she needs him do certain chore in the house. It was these stupid little things which could be solved easily if she had the patience to talk it through.

He just keeps it to himself now, and does whatever he has to do so she isn't bickering around him. She doesn't want to hire people to help around when they can clearly afford. He wants peace when he's back home.

Right now making his way straight to the guest bedroom seemed rhe best option to him which have become his new bedroom. "We'll talk tomorrow." He mumbled.

......................................................................

It was Saturday and he didn't even noticed. Luckily he was able to get off work early as his assistant did most of his work voluntarily because he wanted a raise. Harry asked him to talk to the manager about it today.

He was going to go see his sister at the mall. She was there to pick up her shoes for her wedding and get her gown fitted for first time. Being her Man of Honour, it was something he was really taking interest into. His older sister was getting married to the love of her life!

That's probably the only thing in his life keeping him sane right now. Watching his sister so happily get married.

Just as he was passing the Nike store, he swore he saw the girl from the Pub from last weekend with a little ten year old boy. She was bullying him one moment and then pressing a kiss on his head. That reminded him of how Gemma still treats him, even though he's now pushing his thirties.

"Gem!" He beamed finally seeing his sister. "Oh, I missed you so much!" He pulled her in a bear hug.

"Oh, I missed you too!" She cooed. "You're gonna break my ribs!" He chuckled, pulling away finally. "How have you been?"

"Ms. Styles, the fitting room is ready for you." A lady approached them there.

"Oh yeah, thank you so much." Gemma beamed, "I'll go put on the dress."

"Of course, of course!" Harry urged her to go after the lady. He took a seat on the sofa, all he knew was this time Gemma was alone as their mum was busy with work. Anne has been helping out Gemma alot recently now that Harry has a shit load of work put on him. He patiently waited for his sister, watching other people get their dresses around the store. Happy tears and excited squeals were to be heard all over the floor.

His sister finally walked out of the fitting room with her finished up dress. It was exactly like the sketch she had shown him a few weeks ago. A fluffy Aline skirt with a bodice with sweetheart neckline. Her hair tied up in a low bun with the veil pinned in. He stood up from his place.

Now that made everything all the more legit to him.

He clearly remembers how he was accusing for being a drug dealer at eight for something she did to piss him off as if it was just yesterday, now she's all dressed up to be married. Yes, she's the older one but he's still brother. He's always seen her like a princess and his mum a a queen growing up.

"Awh, Harry!" Gemma cooed watching him get all teary eyed. She walked to him to hug him.

"You look so gorgeous!" He mumbled to her. Gemma pulled away to take a look at him, she just chuckled watching a tear make it's way down his cheek. She wiped it off cupping his face before hugging again. He hugged her back, rubbing her back twice, letting her go so she can do what they're here for.

During the appointment, he gave his own little insights what should be added more to the dress, whilst Gemma gave in her own about the fit of dress to her comfort.

Later that afternoon he was dragging her with him to a Tiffany store. She haven't picked out jewellery to go with her dress, and he had exactly piece in his mind from the last time he was there with his wife. It was simple diamond necklace made in platinum, a pair of diomond studs to go it.

"Harry you really don't have to." Gemma told him.

"Please, I want to." He made a puppy face, "it's a wedding present to my big sister."

"It's too expensive."

"But you're too precious to me, please lemme do you lemme do this" He insisted. "You can for something else too if you'd like."

"No, this is perfect." She rushed before he was going around looking for something else for her to choose from, probably something more expensive. "Thank you, Harry. You're the best brother anyone could ask for!"

"I love you, Gem, that's all." He chuckled.

"I love you too!" She said firmly.

On her way out, she was back to bullying him as they walked to the restaurant near by for early dinner. The day out with his sister was well spend. Much more happier than his time at home.

Though he haven't shared anything with Gemma about bis failing marriage, she did picked on his low mood. In the fleeting moments, she caught her baby brother lost somewhere or just having his shoulders slumped. He'd pull himself right up when he'd see her noticing him.

He dropped her back to her flat before he was asking his driver to take him to the pub. On the way he made a few calls to appoint a a few helpers at home, making sure they are being offered a fair salary. They already had a cook, because he doesn't have the time to make food and Aella doesn't seem to be interested in cooking or stepping a foot in kitchen unless it's to get something to eat.

He doesn't blame her, he finds cooking a bit exhausting too.

Rich people problems, he taunted himself.

Just when he stepped into the Pub, his eyes caught the sight of the girl. Taking a tray of beer glasses to the table where they held quizzes and little competitions, but today everyone was watching the Euro. He noticed she was dressed in all black, a pair of black baggy jeans, an oversized sweatshirt, but her shoes were white. Or supposed to be white with how beaten up they looked. Her long hair pulled up in a ponytail on the back of her head, and a pair of glasses he'd seen her wear the last time.

He had to keep his feelings in check as he's caught a bit of infatuation with this girl. He's married. Even though he might not be happy in his relationship in the moment, that doesn't mean he shouldn't even be looking at other people. There is nothing that sitting down with his wife and talk it all out wouldn't fix anything, he just needs to be in right state of mind to initiate the conversation.

He went to sit on his usual spot. There were hardly any people around there, everyone huddled up near the projector screen watching the match. Even the barkeep was paying attention to the game. Everyone was interested in the game apart from YN and him obviously.

"Hello," she smiled politely at him. Doing her job.

"Hello." He kep his phone face down on the bar in front of him. "I'll have the same, Whiskey please."

"Alright." She nodded and got him the drink, sticking to the little tip he gave her to pour the rught amount of whiskey in the glass and placed it right in front of him. Immediately got back to her work, taking in more glasses of alcohol to go serve the people sat in the crowd. When she got back, she stopped right by him.

"Oh, hey Harry, I just wanted to thank you for last week for the tip." She started, "my little brother got selected in his Cricket team at school so he needed new sport shoes which are very expensive. Thank you so much for tipping, even though I was being hesitant to take it. I wouldn't be able to buy him a pair otherwise."

Now that warmed his heart, the cash went to a very good use. "Aw, it's alright, love. I'm happy fo hear that."

She just smiled at him again and got back to her work. Never looked back, unless he needed another drink.

Now all she did was thank him for helping her unknowingly. He ate or drank outside rarely (though it's becoming a norm for him to visit this pub now a days), everytime he made sure to leave a generous tip for the people doing their job.

He had the same job at one time, and he knew how rude some self entitled people can get. He's managed to stay that grounded with his success.

She still had his heart fluttering in his chest as he watched her go about her evening. Working herself to exhaustion.

He couldn't but notice the way she just kept going, around drunk people. Her dark hair pulled up in a bun held up on the back of her hair with a green claw clasp, little pieces of hair falling onto her face.

"How old is he?" He spoke, initiating the conversation.

"Hmm?" YN looked at him as she was too busy putting back the clean glasses on the shelves. "Oh, he's twelve." The smile on her pushed her cheeks up, making her pretty eyes grow smaller.

"You aren't watching the game?"

"I am more into Cricket, actually." She shared, "I don't quite understand football. Don't you wanna watch it?"

"Oh no, I'm here for just a little bit then I'll be heading home." He rushed.

Honestly, he did enjoyed watching football because his wife did. They were friends throughout the highschool, and she played in the girls football team. One of the many reasons why he fell for her in the first place. Luckily they got into same college and started dating, got married after graduation and now there they are. He's sat in a pub downing his third Whiskey for the night, and she is god knows where.

Aella wasn't home when he left for work. He hasn't heard from her since.

He had two more tonight, before he was heading home. Leaving another big tip for YN.

......................................................................

It was a Monday morning, which meant chaos in YN's household.

Being the eldest of five siblings, she is always crushed by her little brothers and sister.

They all lived in a two bedroom flat, clearly not enough room for family of eight. Though, her parents were the most calmest, her dad passed out drunk his ass off on the sofa in the living room, she's in kitchen making breakfast for everyone.

YN was was just moving around the house, getting ready to leave for work whilst her siblings ate their breakfast, when she almost tripped over her dad passed out fast asleep on the rug in living room.

"Adi, who gave him money to go out drink last night?" She asked, as it reeked on alcohol that early in the morning in the living room, obviously she looked at the second eldest.

"Don't look at me like that, I haven't even seen him in five days!" Adi raised his hands up.

"Maa, did you?" She walked in the kitchen to watch her mum just doing ber work, acting nonchalant. That made her loose her mind there. "Haven't I told you clearly, not to give him any cash?" She asked.

"Maa, fucking answer me!" She raised her voice. "I work my ass off just for you to go on and feed to his addiction, huh? I can't fucking believe you!"

"Watch your language, you're talking to your mum!" Her mum raised her voice even louder.

"Don't tell me to watch my language, when you can't watch your actions." She pointed out the very obvious, the bulging stomach of her mum. "Just for your fun of few minutes you're ruining our lives here, you can't watch that?"

"YN, please it's eight in the morning." Adi spoke.

"Shut the fuck up and eat your breakfast!" She scolded the boy, "if I see either you give even a pound to either her, or him, you'll be grounded for good. Do you hear me?"

"Yes!" The boy nodded.

What was the reason behind her sudden outburst, you may wonder?

It was because, she works three jobs to look after brothers and sister, when their parents can't clearly do that. Her dad's an alcoholic and her mum doesn't simply cares. It's a rare thing that she's even up in the morning stepping a foot in the kitchen for any other reason than to eat.

Yes, that's not the only job of a mother to do. But she doesn't have an actual job, she doesn't help around the house, or have she ever helped around with the kids.

It is her who pays all the bills, pays the rent, pays for groceries, and even kids' school fees. Her little brothers could help just so much working part time, the eldest of the boys are eighteen and sixteen. The youngest born being three, and another sibling on the way.

Yeah, it was fucked up. Quite literally!

Somehow she had just managed to get her degree, on wil full scholarship, and it was just her and three of her brothers (which out of two also had full scholarship paying for their school fees) when her parents shared the new of a new baby. Well, that wasn't a problem until their mother started to neglect them either. YN has had it enough when they welcomed the youngest, a girl three years ago.

Apart from working a desk job from Monday to Friday, doing all ghe over time shifts to the point her boss has to force her to take days off so she doesn't sue the firm in future, to working odd jobs on weekends just so she can eat with her brothers and little sister. It was atrocious how their parents treated them, for her to work herself to exhaustion just for her mum to go on give her dad money to go out and get drunk his ass off. She trusted her mother, really did, that is she doesn't want to get a job or even help around the house that much, at least she can go get groceries.

"Come on now, if you all done with your breakfast." YN looked down grabbing her bag to leave for work, she walks her siblings to school everyday.

"YN, you know I'm doing my best to help you right?" Adi spoke walking along his big sister's side as the other kids walked ahead.

"I know, but I want you to focus on your studies first." YN shared. He's a clever boy, and loves to study. "Thank you for helping around though. I really appreciate that!"

He chuckled, "your welcome!"

"Now come on, best of luck for your test."

"How do you know that?" He stood there in surprise at the gate of his school. YN just shrugged.

"Bye, see you tonight. Please take the kids straight home."

"I will, I will." With a salute to his sister he walked back in.

YN made her way to her office taking a train. I was a small firm where she got to do her intership. She hoped to work an extra intership and study further just so she can get her dream and not be stuck being an accountant. No doubt she likes her job, it's a teeny bit enjoyable too, but it doesn't pay her enough to take care of the family she was born in. That makes her hate her job in this firm.

She needed an extended intership to apply at her dream company, Styles and Co., one of her favourite textile and fashion company in the city. The firm was very particular about hiring new people into their work family. The post she wanted to apply for paid so well. But she was stuck to get a proper job which paid her to survive.

It was like salt on her wounds seeing the building stand tall on her way to work everyday there. She glanced at the building, with the company name written in big, bold letters in gold on the building. Sighing she fixed her gaze on the ground as she walked two buildings down, but she bumped into someone.

"Oh!" She gasped, a steady hand on her arm prevented her from falling straight on her ass in the middle of the pavement.

"You alright?" She heard a deep voice.

"Yeah." She nodded finally looking up at the man dressed in a baby pink suit. To her surprise it was was the man from the bar where she worked on weekends. "Oh hi."

"Hello love, good morning." He beamed as dimples dented deep in his cheeks. "How come you're here?"

"Oh, I work two buildings down." She said.

"At the Darwin's, that Finance company?" He asked, surprised and confused. "Thought you worked at the pub?"

"I do, on weekends." She smiled, now getting awkward as he was trying to get to know her work life, "you work here?" She pointed at the building she can only dream to work at.

Harry looked at her trying to hold back his smile, "yeah. I do work here." He didn't wanted to tell her that that was his firm.

"Oh, nice." She nodded, feeling the jealousy build up in her chest all of a sudden. No wonder how he was so well dressed all the time, and leave her huge tips at the pub. She wanted to work there too! "Anyway, I'm getting late for work."

"Yeah, see you around." He said, watching her throw a petite wave at him as she started walking down the street to her work place.

Her heart was thumping against her chest as if it was about burst out of it's cage anytime soon. She could feel the lingering touch of his hand on her bicep still, she didn't know he was holding to keep her steady. It would be a lie to not say that YN's caught on a tiny little crush on this man who she'd met all for five times with brief interactions.

He's extremely polite and a complete gentleman. And also he's so darn pretty. Eyes green as a spring garden, skin as soft looking as a peacock feather, smile as bright as a ray of first morning sunshine. His aura was nothing but pretty pink and golden shades to her. As if he's human form of a golden retriever. Or maybe that's her mind putting together his image as a person in her imagination.

She haven't slept thinking about him late at night.

Yeah, she's fucked. She doesn't know shit about him and she's going crazy like a teenager for someone she saw at the place of weekend job. Or maybe she's just too lonely that it's her subconscious trying to help her with her loneliness. Shaking her head she got to work, longing into her work system.

"Hey YN." She heard Tom, her co-worker who was also her classmate in uni, who annoying worked in the cubical next to hers.

"Hi." She mumbled.

"How is your day going so far?" Tom asked.

"Good, yeah it is good." She nodded, frustratingly.

"Good to know." He nodded, taking a moment before he spoke again. But YN got a call from the manager asking her to go see him.

Tom never bothered YN for the rest of the day. It was after break that YN felt her frustration and anger melting down.

"You know he likes you." Jamila, the girl who sat on the other side of YN spoke, taking full advantage of Tom still being on his linch break.

"Who?" YN stopped her work to look at the curly haired girl next to her.

She leaned back on her chair, "Tom. He likes you and has been trying to ask you out."

"What? Did he tell you that?"

"Yeah, he did. Remember the last time you were being kicked out to take a vacation?" Jamila reminded her.

"Thay was like a year ago." YN added.

"Yeah!" The girl exclaimed, "he's in love with you! But you keep pushing away the poor boy away!"

"Boy? He's a thirty year old man." YN scoffed jokingly.

"And you're twenty-seven. What does it matter? He's an amazing guy." She pressed. It was true. Tom is truly an amazing guy. He's polite, caring and understanding. He certainly doesn't take no shit from their manager like others. He listened to YN sob once when her boyfriend broke up with her, because she didn't had time for him. He does all the bare minimum.

"I think you should put an halt to taking care of the kids who aren't really your responsibility, and give time to yourself." Jamila spoke, "it's time for your mum to be a grandma and she's popping out another kid when she can't take care of the six she already got. That's not fair for you."

"I don't want to talk about that now, Jamila." YN sighed getting back to her work, "those kids are my siblings, I love them."

Jamila didn't wanted to ruin her mood already, so she stopped there.

"Coffee for the ladies!" Tom announced as he placed a cup of coffee each on his colleagues' table, he placed a sandwich he got from the canteen downstairs on YN's. That's when she realised she haven't gotten up from her chair for her break.

"Thanks." She acknowledged the sweet gesture.

"No problem." He smiled and got back to his work.

On the other hand, Harry was surprised to see Aella at his office for the fifth time from last week. He saw from the little window which gave him clear view of the management floor talking to his PA. It gave him hope, that she's there to see him. Talk to him. Maybe they could go out to get lunch, but instead she dropped the lunch on the PA's desk and walked off to where he doesn't know.

His heart sunk to his stomach as he felt a headache burning behind his eyes. He heard a knock on his door which got him sniffling as he looking up. "Come in, please."

"Sir, Mrs. Styles left lunch for you." Mike said.

"Oh, yes please leave it on the table." Harry smiled, "thank you."

"Sure sir." Mike placed the paper bag on the coffee table in his cabin and left.

It was an hour later when he got a notification five thousand pounds being debited from the joint account he had with his wife. It was ridiculous how she spent money like there's no tomorrow. But if he says anything she's going to make a huge fuss about it. So he just went on with his day.

He couldn't take it. He called his assistant to tell him that he's leaving early today. And he did. He was going straight home.

Harry really wants to work this out with his wife. Getting a divorce felt so wrong to him, especially thinking back at how miserable his own parents were. But he's miserable staying in this marriage.

Just as he was waiting for the lift, placing an order for flowers to pick up on the way home on his phone he saw Aella was still there. She was leaving his Financial Advisor's office there.

"Aella?" He said, catching her like a deer in headlights. "What are you doing here?" It was inevitable to deny that his heart beat picked up a pace in his chest with a racing mind his skull.

"Harry, I, uhhh, I was just saying Hi to Richard." She stuttered with a smile on her face. "You, ehm, you want to go home now?"

As if the universe was coming to rescue her the lift door opened with a ding. Harry followed her in. He doesn't want to make a commotion in his office. He was going to wait until in the comfort of their house to even say a word.

......................................................................

"Kids!" YN announced when she got back home with a cake and a few balloons. "Come on, come on!" It was the little Zara's birthday.

The sleepy four year old was having a hard time staying up, on the sofa as their dinner was served close to midnight. It broke YN's heart to see the kids have their dinner this late. She wished he had extra hours in day for this. Their parents already starting to argue like everyday, today the topic was Mac and cheese for dinner.

But she urged the kids to one of the bedrooms so they can celebrate without seeing their parents arguing. She doesn't want the little girl's birthday to be ruined.

Zara was the youngest amd all four of her brothers are very protective of her so if YN. She's spoilt with so much love from her siblings there.

"Happy birthday to you." Every sang little Zara the birthday song as Adi lit the candles on the cake. "Happy birthday dear tiny little Zozo, happy birthday to you!"

"Yay!" YN cheered.

"Blow on the candles." Adi suggested. The little girl could do so much, so YN blew on the candle herself.

"How old are you?" YN asked.

"Four!" Zara held out five fingers instead making her siblings laugh.

"Silly, that's five." The second youngest, Sid giggled pointing out the obvious.

"That's okay." YN cooed, "come on let's eat the cake now!"

The kids went absolutely ham on the cake after eating the shitty mac and cheese their mum made. It was gone and gone. Zara was a mess with chocolate all over tiny hands and chubby cheeks. YN had her cleaned up and changed into clean clothes before she put her off to bed.

"Come on, boys off to bed you go." She announced. "Uh, before you go to bed, throw you laundry in the machine."

"Yes!" Samar, the third youngest said as he walked out with Sid.

"YN, did you got paid today?" Veer, the second oldest of the boys said.

"No, I went to help my friend at her shop after work. I'll get paid by tomorrow, why?"

"No, I just asked." He shrugged.

"What's wrong?" YN stopped him.

"We haven't paid for internet in past two months, I need to do my projects. Doesn't mean I got selected in the cricket team I don't have to do the projects." He shared, "Adi doesn't even let me use the laptop, and the computers at school suck!"

"Why doesn't he let you use the laptop?" She walked her to the boys' room which they all shared, "Adi, why don't you let him use the laptop for the projects?"

"He never asked me!" Adi defended himself. And the boys started arguing. It took YN a good half an hour to resolve the fight being a median when things escalated.

"I'll pay for the Wifi tomorrow after I get, no more fighting now. Go to bed." YN warned the boys before she walked out closing the door behind her. She put the laundry the machine and started it so it is all done by the morning, before she went to bed herself. It was their daily shenanigans, fighting and arguing with one another for something or other.

......................................................................

"Why were in Richard's office, Aella?" Harry asked.

"I told you, I was saying hi to him."

"Yeah? It took you three hours to say hi to him?" He could feel his heart thumping in his ears at this point. "Admit it Aella, there is no running away from this."

"Admit it god damn it!" He yelled when she said nothing. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Why? Why would you go on and cheat!" He felt his eyes tearing up, "I have been trying my best to make this right, every time I come to talk to you. You just scoot away! Why?"

"I am so sorry, Harry." She looked down at her feet, "I am so sorry, you just haven't been there for lately."

"So you go on and cheat instead of talking this through with me?" He broke down, plopped down on the breakfast bar chair.

"You have been busy lately you don't even look at me!" She cried, "I couldn't take it. I am sorry that was so stupid of me."

"How long?" He asked, holding back tears. "How long have this been going on?" But she didn't say a word to him, "fine. Just leave me alone."

"Harry, please." Aella grabbed onto his hand, so tight it was sure going to redden his skin, "please! I am so sorry. Please, please, please let's just talk this through. I can't. I am sorry."

"Just leave me alone, Aella. Just..." He pulled his wrist out of her grip carefully before he walked back to his (guest) bedroom.

......................................................................

These past few months has been nothing but shit. He found out his wife has been cheating on him. With his Financial Advisor, Richard from past one year. It has been going on for a year. Richard was fired to say the least.

It has been a lot for him, mentally and emotionally.

It wasn't in him to even look at the woman he love and adore since he was eighteen. Twelve years she threw under the bus like it was no one's business. But he found himself going to therapy with her. Today was their fourth session and he just can't even get through it with her sat next to him. Harry doesn't even know how Aella convinced him to go to couple's therapy, or where he got the energy to put with the four sessions along her side.

She was back at it again. Taunting him for busy with work, not helping her around, not allowing her to use the credit cards for her shopping anymore was the new one, along with him asking her to look for a job now. He hadn't spoken a word about her choice on being a housewife, it was her choice and he was very willing to take care of her when they got married. It was what they agreed upon. But her spending have been going way out of hand for Harry to even fathom how she could be spending thousands and thousands of pounds on things she doesn't even use. Even once. She needed a bit of humbling, that's what their therapist suggested.

It wasn't something knew but happening since they got married and it had started to bother him now. He tried his best to express what he was feeling and yet have her lash out on him for not respecting her own life decisions. Even going as far as to reminding him the vows he said to her.

It was yet another weekend when Harry found himself walking in the pub again.

"Can I have one old fashioned please?" Harry asked the bar keep who was surprising working on the side he usually sits today. He saw YN walking around picking up empty glasses of liquor around the pub and bringing them back to clean them up and put them back, that's what he's seen her do all the time here.

"Hi, Harry!" She greeted him once she noticed him sitting there, continuing her work.

"Hello," he found himself smiling back at her. She was wearing the same black jeans and a different black hoodie this time. It has started to get cold he'd noticed. The same pair of glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. He noticed the new pink tint on her cheeks and lips, the length to her eye lashes behind her glasses- maybe she's wearing a new mascara!

"How was your day?" Yeah, that question was coming from him. He was making up the conversation again.

"It was pretty shit." She shrugged, wiping the glasses and putting them away one by one, "my manager at my desk job basically confiscated my work phone and laptop so I take the yearly paid vacation."

"Why would that be a shit day?" He was surprised, "you should happy about it."

"Not when you-" she paused not wanting to tell her life struggles to this man she has met only handful of times, "when you need the job so bad."

"Doesn't your job pay you well?" He took a big gulp of his drink and she just shrugged.

She wasn't to stand there and tell him most of it goes to paying, rent and bill and paying up for her second youngest brother's school fees. That she needs to work those extra jobs to really be able to get groceries and things which are required without any announcement or signs. Like new shoes for the kids, new clothes, new books, new stationary, a new bag pack and what not! Plus the yearly school fees for the kids who don't yet have scholarships.

"I see." He finished up his drink.

YN cringed at watching people drink around her when she despise her own father for doing the same. Why wouldn't she, this thing has torn her family apart to shreds. She hated to work here but it paid more than half of what her desk job pays her monthly.

Her father was fired from his job when her oldest (little) brother was born, because he would sneak alcohol in his water bottles. Her mother never worked, but she stopped caring once it was all too much for her. But one constant thing is that they keep having kids. Which is annoying. Very fucking annoying.

"How was your day?" She asked.

She wanted to keep up with the conversation!

"It was pretty shit for me too." He shrugged. Because it was true. He'd just walked out of the therapy session with his cheating wife.

"Did your boss force your to take days off too so you wouldn't sue their firm?" She smirked a cheeky little smile, "or did they force you to come to office?"

He chuckled, "the former."

Liar!

"Awh! I understand that." She cooed, "I hope you enjoy your paid vacation!"

"I hope so too." He nodded and ordered himself another drink.

"Mhmm!" She affirmed, "are you planning to go anywhere?"

And they talked about his imaginary and impromptu vacation to the Bahamas, and what he would like to do there. He just wasn't going to break her bubble there. She thinks he's just guy who works a very well paying job at one and not an actual CEO and owner of a multi-million dollar firm.

It was grounding but he also like how she found him and his talk interesting enough to care. Even about his fake plans there.

She didn't lash out on him at any point. She listened to him. Gave her own little views. Like how he should try all the coconut drinks and goodies and the local food at his trip to Bahamas which he's planning on to cancelling the very next weekend he sees her. Until she told him she would be continuing to work at the pub for the rest of ber two weeks off.

He forgot his second old fashioned he ordered as it was there. Especially when she started talking about his firm and how she wanted to work there but their skill requirements are something which will take her another life to acquire, having no idea she was talking to the CEO.

It was way better than going to couple's therapy.

Though he thinks he needs therapy. But the solo ones.

He made sure to leave her and the bar keep separate tips, being biased on her even though she didn't serve him anything tonight.

"You can't keep giving me big tips, Harry." She said, holding the money in her shaky hands, "I'd feel too bad to keep it every time."

"Please, it might help plan yourself a little trip to somewhere." He suggested.

Yeah, probably up till the grocery store...?

But she didn't wanted to argue with that so she went on with her work after he finally left. She'd spent her entire shift there. It was one in the morning, she needed to head home. So she clocked out and started making her little (very long) treck to the train station.

It wasn't until she sensed a car coming to an halt where she just passed and someone walking behind her closely. She pulled out her pepper spray from the water bottle compartment and had her fist ready.

"YN, don't punch me!" She heard the voice which was talking her ears off not even ten minutes ago.

"Oh my god!" She let out a gasp of relief. Sort of. If it weren't of him holding onto her hands she would have been lying on the ground, passed out.

She only knew his first name for god's sake!

"You alright?" He asked.

"Mhmm. I was just walking home. What are you doing here?"

"I was heading home too when I saw you walking down the pavement alone this late." He explained, "you want me to drop you off?" He saw someone following her close by there.

"No, it's okay." She smiled hesitantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We've met handful of times, I shouldn't have said it like that." He cleared his throat, "but I promise you can trust me." He looked glanced behind him as he could hear foot steps coming their way.

"It's okay, Harry, I am gonna take the train." It wasn't assuring enough for him.

Just as Harry was about to tell her he saw someone following her at a distance, that guy got close by, snatching her bag he ran away. Every happened in the blur but she saw the little blade in the hand of that person.

"No, wait!" She called Harry as he was about to take off after the guy, "He's got a knife with him."

"Don't you have your valuables in the bag?" He asked but grabbed her hand to drag her near his car with him just to be safe.

"No, I have my wallet in my pocket here. Just an extra jacket in the bag." She shared, "it's okay. Thank you though. At least have my pepper spray with me, it was very expensive."

"How did you see he's got a knife with him?"

"I've got four eyes on, Harry." She grinned making him chuckle. "Anyway, I'll head home now."

"YN, please. Someone just stole from you." He insisted, "lemme call a cab for you, yeah?"

"Harry it's fine." She reassured him. "I will manage."

"You sure?" He doesn't want to push her.

"Yes, I am very sure."

"Okay." He nodded.

......................................................................

The very next night, Harry went to the pub again. He needed to because he went to another therapy session with Aella today, he hated himself that much more for going through that instead of saying no.

It was crowded and YN was busy most of the time. But he got to talk to her, a little bit, but she asked him about his vacation. Which he "cancelled" the moment he planned it.

That went on for a week. And they became really good friends in no time. His growing crush on her was inevitable to stop, especially when he couldn't stop flirting with her. Especially when she sometimes flirt back.

"Like, come on Harry! You've got a wife at home!" He scolded himself, especially when he never once mentioned that he's married. He just couldn't bring himself up to do that.

But he started walking her down to the tube station, he still haven't got her number. He just can't bring himself to ask for it, he still carried the guilt of talking to another woman whilst he's still married. He wasn't going to do the same to Aella. That's just not him.

They're not in pre-school anymore to play tit for tat.

He's stuck though. He doesn't know how to approach it but he can't be with Aella or anyone for the matter of fact when he's that broken. His new budding feelings were just adding upto his confusion that much more.

Aella has been cheating on him for over a year. Maybe is it was a one time thing, he might have thought about giving her and those therapy sessions time. The therapist was going a shit job as well. He couldn't fathom how she lived under same roof as him when she was sleeping with someone else this whole while without any guilt. He no longer felt the love and warmth with her and from her that he used to, god knows how long ago. And here he was feeling guilty to even talk to YN, even if that meant as a friend.

Tonight, he still walked her to the tube station. She asked him about his mum and sister, that's all they talked about. He's yet to tell her that he's the owner of the firm she was admiring that day when she bumped into him. She's yet to tell him about her own family, though she hardly ever talks about herself. She was scared of scaring him off like she scared off her ex-boyfriend.

All he knew was she was the oldest of her siblings. That's all he knew.

Harry has got many, many, many more questions to ask to her to get to know her well.

"How were you so chill about your bag being stolen the other day?" He brought up a new topic to speak on as they were walking in complete silence. She just shrugged.

There was nothing in her bag really that day, just an old jacket that got stolen. It was better to loose the bag and that piece of clothing than have anyone go after a person with a sharp object. Plus that wasn't the worse thing happened to her. Was she upset? Yes, that was her favourite jacket. But at least no one got hurt, at least her pepper spray wasn't stolen and she didn't throw a punch at Harry.

YN walked beside him in a straight but she found him scooting closer and closer until his arm brushed against her. He hasn't had a drink today, he did asked for one but it just sat in front of him as he chatted away with her.

He has been wanting to hold her hand but her hands were stuffed in pockets of her coat. It was very cold.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked once he'd made sure she'd get in safe in the train.

"I'd say no." She said. "It's none of my business to have a say, but I think we're friends, so as a friend I'd say it's really not good for your health to drink everyday, Harry."

She wouldn't say that to anyone because, well, she was getting good tips and she needed those badly but, she's grown to like Harry quite a bit. Her infatuation on him have grown quite a bit as well. He's a great person afterall! Him talking about his mum and sister is just enough to tell how he treats them. He has been respectful towards her even when he's flirting with her sometimes.

Plus he's very good looking. That's an added bonus.

"Can I kiss you?"

Oh fuck no!

That got her heart pumping as it jumped in her ear, making her tummy do back flips. He stood towering in front of her, way too close that she could feel his aura. Him smirking made her realise she was chewing on her lip as she nodded, muttering a quiet yes.

Of course she said yes!

Harry didn't needed much more talking or convincing, as he reached up cradle her face in his palm. But she stopped him, stepping back. Her fingers lightly wrapped around his anchor tattoo.

"Is that a wedding band?" She asked seeing a plain ring on the fourth finger of his left hand, his usual chunky rings were missing tonight. "Are you married?" It broke Harry's heart to see tears well up behind her glasses, and she took another step back.

He honestly didn't know how he should answer her because it was very obvious. There was no excuse he could make other than admit to her.

"Yes, but-"

"There shouldn't be a but!" She interrupted him, "you're cheating on your partner!"

"YN, please, I, I don't know how to explain but this it's not what you're thinking, love."

"It's exactly what I'm thinking." She stated the obvious, "don't ever talk to me again please."

She left him standing there.

......................................................................

YN couldn't work on weekends anymore, and she took on afternoon shift at work because her mum gave birth to another boy. Luckily the baby wasn't born cranky like others.

It only put more toll on YN alone.

"YN? You alright?" Adi asked who was helping his sister in the kitchen.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Watch your fingers!"

"Oh!" He realised the knife was too close to his fingers as he chopped tomatoes.

"Idiot." YN chuckled smacking him on his shoulder.

After lunch most of the kids were off to sleep, she didn't knew where her dad was he's got an habit that he goes missing for days and then returns back home tk shower and eat, her mum was fast asleep with the new baby. She told Adi to look after the kids for a little bit if they needed anything so she can go take a nice walk.

It was a Sunday night so she was home all day. YN sat down on the bench at the park, there were still few people around but it was getting darker. She pulled out her phone to watch something as she doesn't get much time to do so.

Honestly she has been sulking since the night she last saw Harry. She had no idea he was married already. Maybe if she had asked...

YN had never showed any interest in dating or having a romantic life in all. She had too much on her plate to be a good enough partner to someone. But it was getting harder to keep her feelings in check with him.

Just when she swiped over open Google after putting on her earphones with music on to look at the recent Share values for her work and personal purposes, a article popped up on the new feed.

Divorce Notice: Styles & Co. Owner and CEO, Harry Styles gets cheated on by his wife.

Now she was surprised to see Harry's face plastered on the article cover with a blonde woman. It wasn't something she had ever expected to be.

Styles & Co. owner was in Top 10 richest man in the England, but no one hardly knew about him as a founder and CEO but all about his textile and fashion company. YN has been a huge nerd when it comes to business. She read many business magazines but none of then had even a single picture of Harry. There must have been a possibility which she must have missed by chance as there was a picture of him from one of the many formal events with his wife on his side.

Please give her benifit of the doubt, there are hundreds if not thousands of Harrys in this world!

But never once did she thought that the Harry who visited the pub she worked weekend shifts at would be one of the richest man in England. He was too humble, well spoken, and polite to be a millionaire. And no wonder why he felt her such heavy tips after.

She was furious on herself for potentially breaking up a relationship. She didn't wanted to click on the link, but she turned off her music and did. He was married to her for eight years! They have been together since they were eighteen. There were mentions of even Harry cheating on his wife with a random girl he was spotted with at a club last weekend, blurry pictures of him at the club were attached as receipts, and also written rumours of him seeing other people as well. And that Harry have file for a divorce and sued his (ex) wife for defamation as there were articles about him published two weeks back as well.

She realised she shouldn't have gotten that attached him when they would meet barely for three hours every night for a week and half. She needed to get her attachment issues in check. She was insanely jealous and heart broken she felt when she found out he was married. But she hated herself to not ask him about anything else.

It was a good thing she didn't proceeded with the kiss, not anyone with a sane mind to kiss a married person. But that would leading him on like he did to her by keeping such a huge secret from her. Yes, she haven't told him about her family situation, she doesn't like to tell her traumatic family story to her friends. She wasn't ready. She has her siblings to look after because they have no one to do that.

It was a good thing she didn't kiss him that night!

......................................................................

YN was on her way to work, her desk job on the Friday a week later she had read the article.

Her sulking have gotten worse at home. She was lashing out on her siblings and mother for no reason (well, she had many reasons with her mother). She had been feeling sad, angry, heart broken, guilty and every negative feeling a human can go through. She didn't wanted to celebrate her birthday day before.

Her time went by so fast that she didn't even realise it was time for lunch break, so she headed down stairs to the lobby to get some fresh air and a coffee to keep her up. She haven't been sleeping well either. Just when she was about to walk back to her floor the security guard stopped her.

"Ms. YLN." He called, "someone had these delivered under your name." The man handed her a small bouquet of all pink roses, tulips and carnations, a box of some fancy chocolate which looked very fucking expensive for some reason. She took it and walked upto the sofas kept in the lobby. She placed her coffee cup on the coffee table in front of her along with the chocolate box and plucked out the yellow note.

I'm extremely sorry for what happened that night, I had no bad intentions. Had no reason to basically do something so bad which was happening to me. Hope you like these flowers! Please call me if you think you can forgive me.

Ps. We have a spot for Financial Advisor in my company, would love to have you join our team. Let's at least be friends.

-H

It was all written in messy writing in block letters with red ink. A number scribbled over in the corner with a messy heart drawn as a punctuation at the end of him signing off. On the back of the note said something more.

Please do call me. I'll be looking forward to it. Please?

At the end of the day, YN was walking back home. Bouquet of flowers tucked in between her her chest and arms delicately. She had saved Harry's number on her phone so she pulled up her number to call him finally. He picked up on the third ring.

"Hi, Harry." She spoke, slowing down as she neared his firm.

"Hi, you called!" He celebrated on the other side, a clear sigh audible, "Are you off work now? I wanted to talk."

"I'm on my way back home."

"I, I am still stuck at work, would, would you mind coming up? I, I don't want to talk about this over a phone call. Please?" He plead. His voice wavered, maybe it was him feeling or the poor network connection. YN didn't know if she should go in at his work place. "Come up, I'll ask the receptionist to send you up, please!"

"I- uhhh, okay, okay." She sighed.

"Stay on the phone, okay?" He requested, the line went silent for a bit. "Walk right in."

So she did. The receptionist told her the way to his office. His office was everything she imagined it to look like from the inside, marble floor so clean you could see your face in it, glass cubicles, separated offices for the higher level management on the fourth floor. She took the stair to the third floor for a reason. It was all empty by now, the second floor which was the accounts department. Third floor was all things fashion she did not understand but found very fascinating. A few people still working. She felt very under dressed walking through the floor to another set stairs to the fourth floor, in her blue baggy jeans and long sleeved t-shirt. Her work place didn't had any dress code necessarily, unless the employees are dressed appropriately even if it's something casual.

"Hi, I am here to see Mr. Styles." YN approached the desk out of office at the very end of the hall.

"YN?" The man asked.

"Yeah."

"That's Mr. Styles' office, you can go right in." He pointed at the big brown door.

YN could see Harry already walking upto the door from the skinny glass window next to the door. Before she could knock, he swung the door open. His classic frog smile plaster on his face, wide and happy enough to make his dimples appear evidently on his cheeks. Without a word he stepped aside and let her walk in before he gently shut the door behind him, pulled the blinds down on the skinny window by the door and walked her to the sofa area in his office, opposite to his desk.

"What would you like?" He asked, picking up the receiver to his desk phone. "Coffee? Tea?"

"I, I am good thank you." She stuttered feeling awkward standing there not knowing what to do. The sofa looked way too good and expensive for her to put her butt on it. But she saw still muttering something in the phone quickly.

"Why don't you have a seat?" He suggested already taking a seat on the end of the sofa. She did the same, placing her new bag she thrifted the other day on the floor and the bouquet of flowers on the coffee table carefully. She sat by the edge on the cushion. Harry caught on that but said nothing.

"You wanted to talk?" She asked.

"Mhmm." He nodded, eyes glazed on moony shimmer as he looked at her with his teeth burying in his bottom lip, "about that night, YN, I want to apologise first and explain to you what really happened."

"Why didn't you ever tell me about you being married? You told me nothing about you but at the same time you told me everything!" Her voice wavered as her vision went water with tears. Brick by brick her wall was falling apart there.

"Because I was not happy with her." He stated, carefully scooted closer to her but got on the rug on the floor next to her knees making her shift back in her seat. He reached for her hand, giving her the option to go on and hold his if she wanted to, but she chose not to. "I need you to please listen to me, okay?"

"Mhmm." She sounded.

"She was cheating on me, for over a year. I wasn't happy. I don't know why I put up with her for three months after I found out, but I couldn't take it anymore after that night with you. I filed for a divorce." He looked up at her like a little lost puppy, "I feel so guilty for leading you on like that, love, I wish I knew how to fix that."

"Doesn't matter, you are still married to her." She began but he quickly spoke in between.

"Not anymore."

"You were back then!" She got frustrated, "you were going to do the same thing to her."

It hit him in the very next morning after that night which lead him to get a divorce, there was no other choice than to admit to her, "I know, and I am so guilty for doing that."

"I get it." She said but was interrupted by saying anything further hearing the knock on the door. It was his assistant, two cups of tea which he placed on the coffee table and left.

"Look YN, I have spent enough time with me to know how I feel for you. You've become my best friend in no time. Didn't tell you anything because I was afraid you'd treat me differently, was wrong on that too." He dared to hook his pointer finger around hers but she didn't seem to mind, "I have grown to like you so much."

"Harry, I..." She trailed off for a moment, "I can't, I, I am not ready for anything of this sort. I, I mean I'm not— I can't give you the time..."

"I, why not?" He was surprised, "you were going to-"

"I know, I don't want you to bring that up again." She stated, it made her feel to guilty. No matter if she knew the truth now. "I have my siblings to look after, I am always working and I can't give someone the time and energy. It's not fair. For anyone!"

It has been a thing for YN since her brother Adi, the eldest of the boys' was born. She was just ten years old and she taught herself to take care of her baby brother when her mum would up and leave to gossip with the neighbour lady for hours and hours on end, even the entire day. Then two years later came her another brother, and from then their family had grown from family-of-four to noe a family-of-nine. It was hilarious at this point.

Her boyfriend of three years broke up with her within six months of her moving back in with her parents after the youngest of the boys' was born. Merely because she was working two jobs and looking after the kids who weren't hers!

But they are her siblings.

No matter how much she wanted all of the good things for herself, a loving partner, kids of her own, a little family of her own. She had got to fullfill her dream of through the little babies her mum gave birth to but wanted no responsibilities towards. Since her breakup, she never dated again really. Though her colleagues tried to set her up but none of the dates worked out for her. Which she was totally fine with.

Harry looked at her, "look we can take it slow. To be vulnerable with you, I've started to go to therapy- now you're the only I'm sharing this with because I know you're not going to judge me for it- my therapist says I need time. To myself. Which I have plenty of. That is why I offered you the job as our financial advisor so we can still be friends and hang out. I no longer want to drown my sorrows and sadness in alcohol, it's sickening! I, I want a friend like you!"

She watched as he rushed to speak, faster than he usually talks. His nose was turned pick and so were the apples of his cheeks, eye lashes wet from tears brimming in his eyes. Feeling bad, she found herself slipping her hand in his. His skin was warmly comforting against hers. His hand much bigger than hers, Harry noticed.

"You don't know anything Harry, I'm really sorry if I've unknowingly led you on. It wasn't my intention." She mumbled.

"I want to know, I'm here to listen to you like you do to me, love. You know I would never judge you." He admitted. Honestly he wanted that so bad, not just one sided conversation where only he's the one speaking. "You didn't led me onto anything, no apology is needed here. In fact I should be the one apologising."

"You don't know Harry, I've got..." She trailed off, "I, I can't talk about this right now. I'm sorry." Her apology was punctuated with a quiet sob leaving her lips.

"That's okay," he assured her, "it's fine with me." He noticed how she held her breath until she couldn't, showing the sign what he could only make up to be anxiety. "Here." He fetched her a bottle of water from the mini fridge.

He sat there giving her the time to calm herself down because he didn't wanted to intervene and make things worse for her. Later he offered to drive her home which surprisingly she agreed to, she put up her address on his GPS in the car and sat there in silence. Anxious checking every turn he took.

Now YN wasn't embarrassed of her family, though it come like that. She just hated the judgement which came along with it. Both her parents didn't work, one was alcoholic and other simply doesn't want the responsibility. People asked her why did she took care of kids who weren't hers? Well, they're still her siblings. They didn't asked to be brought up into this world. She doesn't want her siblings to go through what she had went through growing up with a pair of parents who should have clearly gotten a divorce the next hour they got married. She stopped talking about it all together when it started to get to her. She was happy with what she had and being the guardian to her siblings.

"Hmm?" She noticed Harry was actually saying something as he took the last turn to her place.

"I said, how is your brother? How's his cricket practice going on?" He asked again.

"Oh, he's doing fine. He had a match yesterday." She shared.

"Should I stop here?" He asked slowing down two buildings down her actual one. But YN saw her brother there coming back home, probably from one of his jobs.

Adi looked at her suspiciously as the car came to an halt next to him. YN opened the door to get out but her brother blocked her.

"Oh hello there mate!" Adi said, "I am YN's brother, Adi."

"Hello." Harry chuckled watching YN roll her eyes. "I'm Harry."

"Nice to meet you Harry!" Adi exclaimed side eyeing his older sister, "how come you know my sister?"

"We're friends." He shared.

"Oh!" Adi dragged, "would you like to come up, have a cuppa?"

Harry glanced at YN awkwardly, "he's got to go, Adi now move away." She tried to shove the boy aside but he wouldn't budge, so she scolded him. Harry didn't understood a word but Adi moved away and went straight to the building. "Thank you for driving me home Harry."

"Don't mention it." He smiled at her.

"I'm sorry about that, little brothers are very annoying sometimes." She said awkwardly, stalling long enough to make it known she didn't wanted to go. But she had to go, the kids were probably on their own and doing as they please instead of doing their homework.

"Hey!" He complained, "not all little brothers are annoying!" She just chuckled knowing why he was defending the boy he just met, he's probably got an older sister as well!

"Harry, you've become a really good friend over these past few months." YN shared, "thank you so much for everything."

"If anything, I should be the one thank you for listening to me rant." A sheepish smile took over his gorgeous features, "most people find me annoying because I talk slow and shit."

"It's not annoying." She shook her head.

"I'm going to believe you here."

"Anyway, I should go." She said getting out but stopped and plucked out one pink rose from her bouquet and gave it to him.

"Thank you love." He smirked.

"These are very pretty thank-" she was interrupted by Adi coming back out running with a crying Zara in his arms making her jump out and run to the kids.

Harry got out as well in shock watching as the boy explained to his sister what must have happened. Adi was holding onto the little girl's arm securely.

"What happened?" Harry dared to asked.

"Harry, oh my god you're still here!" YN breathed out in relief, "please would you take us to the nearest hospital?"

"Of course, get in." He agreed in a heartbeat. Adi hopped into the backseat with the crying girl next to YN and Harry zoomed to the nearest hospital.

"I think she broke her arm." Adi shared.

After her it's Adi who is there for the kids but he came home late for work. She was pissed that their mum didn't even wanted to keep an eye on the kids that one of them broke an arm literally. Zara was being checked on in the ER when she asked Adi to go back home and check on other kids. She was really furious on her mother.

It was pretty late when the doctors were done treating Zara. She had a cast on which had to be kept on for next two weeks. The little girl was was still overwhelmed by everything, it was the first time she had to be rushed to an ER and hopefully the last time. She looked scared as she lied there with her cast on.

"Harry would you mind staying here whilst I take care of the discharge?" She requested.

"Sure." He nodded.

He sat there by the little girl, "hey, what's your name?"

"Zara." She pouted. "Where is YN?"

"She's gone to take care of a few things so you can home and rest." Harry explained. "I am Harry by the way."

"I want Coco!" She whined quietly. Harry assumed it might be a pet or her stuffed toy.

"Yeah? You miss her?"

"Mhmm." Zara nodded. She's so much like her older sister he noticed there, all same features. YN came back rather quickly.

She had to call up her colleague, Jamila to ask her to lend some money. She had just paid for her mum and took out a loan on her credit card which she's still paying up for. The bank transfer was not going through so Jamila offered to come down to the hospital and pay for the bills.

"I wanna go home." Zara shared with her sister.

"Just a few minutes and we'll go home okay?" YN assured her.

"What's wrong, love?" Harry enquired.

"It's nothing. And Harry, thank you so much for driving us here and waiting here, you really didn't had to but you still did." She smiled, "Thank you."

"No problem, YN." He chuckled.

"I'm just gonna wait for my friend to come here, so you don't have to wait up anymore." YN said urging him, he's done a lot already she doesn't want him to wait up more. It was already close to midnight.

"It's alright, I don't mind waiting up." He assured her. "Nah! No arguing, she's asleep!" He shushed her down, "why did you call your friend over? I would have dropped you back home."

"Oh, it's not that..." She stuttered. She mumble quietly which he couldn't make it but he understood what it was.

"Could have asked me." He sighed standing up from his seat, "come with me." He grabbed a gentle hold on her hand and dragged her out with him.

"Zara's alone the—"

"She's fine there." He interrupted her. "Call your friend up and ask them not to come."

"Harry, listen to me!" She yanked on his hand the best she could to stop him. "I know you want to help, but I can manage to look after my family just fine."

"I'm sorry, YN, but I'm not saying you can't. I'm just trying to help you out here." He explained.

"I really, really appreciate that, Harry. I really do. But you're not going to take it back, are you?"

He just stared at her for a beat, "I will, with twelve per cent interest. Now come on." With that he walked her to the reception and paid for the bills and all, he made YN call her friend and ask them to not go over before dropping her back home. "You want me to carry her upstairs?" He offered, putting his car in park.

"It's alright, I can carry her." She smiled. "Thank you so much for today, Harry."

"Don't mention it." He shook his head chuckling, "hey, YN?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at him stood on the pavement with her sister clung onto her like a baby monkey, fast asleep. She juggled the bouquet of flowers and her keys as well.

"The job post is still available, you can just walk in on Monday for the interview, yeah?" He reminded her.

"Harry, I don't know if I'm qualified enough to be a good Financial Advisor." YN spoke, her voice quiet so she doesn't wake her sister.

"I'm not qualified to be a CEO either," he shrugged.

"Okay, I'll go for the interview." She nodded, "but don't threatened your HR and Manager, please!"

He giggled, "I won't, I promise."

"Alright." She smiled, "good night, amd thank you so much."

"Stop thanking me now!" He warned her, "and good night."

Harry waited for her to wall back in her building safely before getting back in his car.

At least he's got a good friend if not anything else. But he was unaware of what was to come his way.

......................................................................

N O T E :

Y'all this took me wayyyyyy to long write. I've been writing this from late November last year. Was stuck on how I could have explored the characters mentioned in this one.

I can write more about it, tho I don't know what I can. But if y'all have any suggestions I'll consider them. <3

I really hope y'all like this one. Please leave a comment and tell me how you liked it. Or if you have any suggestions.

......................................................................

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justagalwhowrites · 2 months

Note

Hi! Soooo I've read a lot of amazing Joel Miller fics, but Lavender is seriously my all time favorite. Doc and Joel's story just made me so emotional. Here's my request for a drabble/oneshot- a sneak peak into Doc and Joel's relationship when they first get together pre-outbreak. Specifically, Joel takes Doc out on a nice dinner date for the first time and she feels super special and they are starting to catch so many feels for each other. Thank you!!!

OMG Hi Bestie!

So you sent this ask in like... 1.5 million years ago and this isn't EXACTLY it but... I think it fits the vibe. I hope. So here's Joel and Doc's first Valentine's Day together. I hope you like it!

Cupid

You and Joel spend Valentine's Day together. A Lavender one shot. Can be read as a stand alone with the understanding that Joel and Reader have an established relationship.

^We're gonna pretend that's Joel for this, OK? OK.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (From Lavender)

CW: Smut :) Just some fluffy, fun, p in v smut. They're in love and we love that for them. Pre-Outbreak. Age gap but not the focus of the fic (11 years, reader is 22 Joel is 33.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only.

Length: 3.8k

Wednesday, February 14, 2001

You’d never had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before.

The thought made you oddly nervous. Not that Joel had given you anything to be nervous about, of course, but you were. Valentine’s Day had always just been another day for you. Sometimes Nan got you one of the little boxes of chocolates but, otherwise, it had never been something you had a reason to celebrate. You were just so used to ignoring it that, until Saturday, you hadn’t even thought about Valentine’s Day.

You’d been in bed with Joel. It was late and your bodies were pressed close together, his skin on yours, your nose nuzzled into his throat, your head still a bit fuzzy from the orgasms.

“How do you feel about goin’ to dinner Wednesday?” He asked softly, his fingers trailing over your side, lips in your hair.

You frowned against him.

“Doesn’t Sarah have practice?”

“Canceled,” he said. “Besides, I was gonna get Tommy to take her, anyway. He’s already taking her for the night so we can have some privacy.”

You frown deepened and you felt him chuckle against you.

“Did you forget?” He asked.

“No,” you said defensively. “I just… didn’t know there was something to forget.”

He laughed a little again.

“It’s Valentine’s Day baby,” he said. “Fully intend on takin’ full advantage of any holiday that lets me romance you.”

Joel seemed to mean it. By Wednesday night, you didn’t know the details of what he was planning - you didn’t get to see him on Tuesdays, Sarah had Girl Scouts across town and your classes ran too late to see him before her meeting - but he’d sent flowers to your apartment the day before your date, timed when you were home for lunch between classes with a card that said he loved you and told you to be ready to go at 5:30 Wednesday night.

You weren’t sure if you were doing your part in this right at all. You’d spent a good chunk of Sunday shopping and cursing yourself for not remembering freaking Valentine’s Day. It’s not like there weren’t heart shaped boxes of candy sitting out every time you went to the grocery store, it should have occurred to you. It just hadn’t even registered that it would apply to you now.

You at least had an idea of what you wanted to get him and weren’t going in completely blind. You’d been keeping an eye out at thrift stores for vintage shirts from his favorite bands, never exactly hunting for them but always checking the men’s section when you went in to find something for yourself. You also had a picture from a trip to a museum of you, Joel and Sarah had made that you’d been keeping to give him at some point, wanting to frame it for him.

It took a few hours - and stops at four different thrift stores - but you eventually found a Fleetwood Mac shirt that you thought was from the 70s and was wearing thin in a few places but you were sure he’d like it. You found the perfect frame, too, the wood cracking at the sides but you had a plan for that.

You fixed the frame, coloring the glue forest green so it was like vines were growing on a tree and put the picture of the three of you in it. It was off center, you’d been holding the camera away from yourselves and hoping that you were all in the frame. You were looking at Sarah, she was looking at you and Joel had his perfect, crooked smile that made his cheek dimple and his eyes shine.

You made brownies that afternoon, covering them in pink glaze and red heart sprinkles before piling them on a plate and sneaking a bite of one before getting ready. You took a curling iron to your hair and did your makeup and painted your nails red before slipping into a dress you’d found when shopping for Joel’s shirt, black and form fitting and you tried to not feel like an imposter as you tied the red ribbon around the half ponytail at the back of your head.

There was a knock at your door and you took a last look at yourself in your bedroom mirror, breathing deep and trying to calm your thudding heart before you answered it.

“Jesus, baby,” Joel said, a look of almost awe on his handsome face as you opened the door. “Should warn a man before you show up lookin’ like that…”

“Is it too much?” You asked, looking down at yourself. “I can change…”

“Don’t you dare,” he said, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “You look fuckin’ amazing.”

You put your arms around his neck and kissed him, smiling against his mouth, before stepping back from him. He’d dressed up, too, in black jeans with a white button down shirt that he’d tucked in and worn with a belt. He even had on a tan blazer, one that looked almost too small for his broad shoulders.

“You look so good!” You were practically giddy, hands going over your mouth to keep from sounding too excited. Joel laughed a little.

“Don’t know if it warrants that much of a reaction. But figured I’d at least try to look like I belonged out with someone as pretty as you,” he teased and you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, we don’t leave now we are in very real danger of not making it out of the house, you are too damn tempting.”

Joel led you to his truck - which was almost shockingly clean, water from the car wash still dripping from his bumper - and opened the door for you, offering you his hand as you climbed in.

“So,” you smiled as he started driving. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he smiled back. “Believe it or not, had something cookin’ for a minute.”

His hand found the inside of your knee, the callus of his thumb stroking the skin there. You tried to figure out where you were going as he drove but you were still caught totally off guard when he parked in front of a French restaurant you’d been dying to try.

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped. “Joel!”

He laughed and took your hand, kissing your knuckles.

“Know you’ve been wanting to try it,” he said. “Turns out a guy on my crew’s sister works here so I could wrangle a reservation…”

“This is amazing!” You were practically giddy, going to open your door, but Joel stopped you.

“Gotta let me try to be a gentleman,” he kissed your hand again. “Sit tight.”

He got out and jogged around the front of the truck, opening your door and offering you his hand.

“Why thank you sir,” you said, trying to sound aloof and dignified. You didn’t think you pulled it off, too busy smiling to make it convincing. He pulled you in close and pressed a kiss to your temple before putting his hand on the small of your back and guiding you into the restaurant.

They sat you at a table in a secluded corner, a white tablecloth and the low glow of a candle setting the scene. The host handed you a menu in a leather book with a gold tassel on the end and you waited for him to leave the table before you mouthed “oh my god” at Joel, who smiled and laughed quietly across the table.

The menu had was full of French foods you’d only dreamed of trying at a restaurant: coq au vin, confit de canard, gigot d’agneau. There was even boeuf bourguignon. But the prices made your eyes go wide, your newly-painted nails digging into the leather of the menu.

“Don’t think I can get that beef you make,” Joel said absently, looking at the menu. “Not gonna measure up to yours, don’t care how good the restaurant is…”

“Joel,” you whispered over your menu. He looked up from his, brows raised. “We really don’t need to eat here…”

He frowned.

“Not seein’ something you want?” He asked. “We can go somewhere else, might be hard to get a table but…”

“No!” You shook your head quickly. “No, the food looks great but…”

You bit your lip and trailed off and he watched you, waiting for you to finish.

“But?” He asked eventually.

“But this place is…” you lowered your voice. “This is expensive. We really don’t have to eat here just because I’ve talked about it, we can go anywhere, we can just order a pizza if you want, I really don’t need all this, this is…”

“Baby,” he cut you off, a crooked smile on his face. “Don’t worry about the price. Been wanting to take you here since this place opened, set aside some money for it. Get whatever you want.”

“But…”

He set the menu down and crossed his arms over the table, leaning over it toward you.

“You gonna let me spoil my girl for Valentine’s Day or are you gonna give me trouble?” He asked. You frowned a little, thumb toying with the corner of the menu. Joel tilted his head until you met his gaze. “I mean it, baby. Really want to do this. Please let me?”

“OK,” you said, still uncertain and looking at the menu again, looking for the least expensive entree.

“Swear to god you order the cheapest thing, we’re comin’ back next week,” Joel said as though he read your mind. “You’d better get what you actually want.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, trying your best to ignore the price column on the menu.

You settled on the duck and Joel got the steak frites and, once the numbers were out of your head, you were able to relax more, savoring the wine and running your heel-clad foot over the inside of Joel’s leg from across the table.

“You would’ve been makin’ fun of me last night, Baby,” he smiled, taking a sip of his wine. “Remember how I told you Sarah didn’t know what she wanted to bring to school for Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah,” you frowned.

“Well,” he laughed. “She decided yesterday she wanted cupcakes. So we stopped by the store on the way home from scouts, got the themed cake mix, all that. But she really wanted to try and do it herself so I started out just supervisin’… ended up running the cake mix through the pasta strainer to get all the egg shells out of it, that girl was in rare form…”

“Oh no!” You laughed, loud enough that the table close to you shot you a glare and you tried not to laugh harder when you quieted down. “How’d they turn out?”

“Alright I think,” he said. “They were kinda lopsided but tasted fine. We split one this morning.”

“You send her off to school with a sugar high?” You teased.

“Not from half a cupcake,” he waved you off. “The little box of candy I caved and let her have this morning did that.”

You giggled.

“I’m sure her teacher appreciated that.”

“I’m just hopin’ with the sweets from school it carried through to when Tommy picked her up from school,” he smirked a little. “Think I owe ‘em for loading her up with candy after Halloween last year, as if she didn’t have enough already…”

The food was incredible, so good you had to set your fork down to focus on the flavor of the first bite, Joel smiling almost proudly from across the table. By the time you were done, you were two glasses of wine deep - Joel ordering a second for you before you could stop him - and he was holding your calf under the table, hand sliding over the muscle to cup your ankle, thumb massaging the tendon there.

“You’ve been playin’ a dangerous game over there, baby,” he said, voice low.

“You’re hot,” you said, almost shyly. “Can’t help it.”

“Thinkin’ I should get you home,” he said. “Get you outta that dress.”

“I’m thinking you’re right,” you said, heat settling low around your hips.

Joel’s mouth was on you before you even got your front door closed, your arms around his neck and his hands on your ass, holding you tight to the front of him.

“I,” you kissed him. “Got,” another kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Something.”

“Really?”

Another kiss as you nodded.

“Didn’t need to do that, baby…”

“Too bad,” you smiled, kissing him long and hard before pulling back from him. “I like doing stuff for you, too, you know.”

You took his hands and led him to your bedroom, sitting him on the bed before handing him the box with the shirt and frame inside. He opened it almost reverently, a little smile pulling up at the corners of his lips as he did.

“It’s not as good as what you did,” you said, sitting next to him, twisting your fingers around on themselves as he lifted the lid of the box.

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, picking up the frame, his thumb tracing the parts you’d repaired. “This is perfect… when was this?”

“Remember when Sarah and I were on Christmas break and we went to the natural history museum the day before New Year’s Eve?” You said.

“That was a good day,” he smiled down at the picture before setting it on your nightstand and he laughed as he got out the shirt. “Where the hell’d you find this?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye out,” you smiled. “It’s well loved but I did wash it already…”

He cut you off with a kiss before you could finish, dropping the box and the shirt to the floor as he pulled you against him, his lips insistent and needy on yours. He quickly shrugged out of his jacket as you fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and he unzipped your dress. You got each other undressed quickly, his mouth on yours as he lay you below him, his large hand cupping your pussy before he slipped two fingers between your swollen, slick lips, tracing over your entrance before sliding up to tease your clit as he settled between your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he panted against you, pushing his fingers into your tight channel, just up to the first knuckle. “This all for me, baby?”

You nodded and tried to pull him closer, to bring his body fully against your own, but he stayed just far enough away that you could feel the warmth of his skin but not the softness of him itself. You groaned and he smiled as he trailed kisses over your jaw to your throat.

“Seems like you might want somethin’,” he teased a little. You just nodded. “Should say what you want, baby, so I know what to give you.”

“You,” your fingers scrambled over his back, desperate to find some kind of leverage. “Want you, please Joel…”

He kissed you gently but you could feel the hunger behind it. He needed you, too, you could feel it in him.

“OK baby,” he said softly, lining himself up at your entrance, the swell of his cock just close enough to start to part your walls without pushing in. “Give you what you want…”

He kissed you as he pressed into you, a moment of resistance before the thickness of his shaft entered you. You whimpered at the stretch of him, arching into his touch, your pussy already starting to tighten and flutter around him.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “You already close?”

You just nodded as he pushed deeper, his cock opening you to him until he was fully inside you, his head pressed firmly against the part of you that made you press your hips up against him and your fingers dig into his skin. You felt yourself pulse around him once before going even tighter as he moaned, his head dropping to your shoulder.

“Goddamn you feel good,” he panted. “Not gonna last once you come baby, tellin’ you that right now…”

“S’OK,” you clumsily rocked your hips up against his, desperate for that last little bit of friction you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Just… I need…”

“I got you,” he said, pressing somehow deeper and making you whimper below him. “Give you just what you need. Take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.”

He started slow but hard, the steady drag of his cock as he pulled back from you followed by the firm, heavy thrust of him as he fucked back into you. You matched his rhythm, moving your body in time with his, his skin warm on your own, his brown eyes warm and soft and deep on yours. You clung to him as his pace increased, your body getting tighter around him, orgasm building until your head was fuzzy and all you could feel was the desperate heat of pleasure deep inside you.

“Want you to come for me, baby,” Joel panted, one arm slipping below your arched back. He tilted your hips ever so slightly, the angle adjusted just enough that he could press deeper, his hips against your clit, all of him hitting you just right. You gasped at the change, your arms latching onto him tighter, your hips stuttering against him. “Oh fuck, there you go, just come for me, that’s it, c’mon, just give in to it baby, just…”

You cried out as you came, Joel holding you close and tight, his movements never slowing as he chased his own orgasm inside you, thrusting hard and deep until he pressed against the back wall of you as you throbbed over him, coming undone with a shaky groan. You felt him pulse inside of you, emptying himself deep until he went limp on top of you. He adjusted quickly as you caught your breath, rolling onto his back and taking you with him so you ended up sprawled on top of him, your nose nuzzled against his neck as he held you, his large palm gently tracing over your back.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you hummed happily, whole body feeling soft and hazy as you just focused on his skin against yours.

“You’re too good to me,” you sighed as you snuggled into him. You could feel him frown.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Because you are,” you kissed his neck. “You did way too much for me today, I can’t measure up.”

“Hey,” he said quietly, pulling back from you just enough that he could look into your eyes. “Don’t say that, that ain’t true…”

“Yes it is,” you said, running your fingers through his curls. “I loved it, I loved it so, so much. But it’s too much, I can’t do the same in return, I don’t deserve…”

“Yes you do,” he cut you off, giving you a little squeeze. “Baby, you do so much for me just by existing near me, you realize that?” You looked at him skeptically but he didn’t give you a chance to argue. “I mean it. My life is so much better because of you. Never thought I could love someone the way I love you, you made me understand this kind of thing existed at all. You make me laugh more than anyone else I’ve ever met and you are so damn sweet. Plus you’re so smart, I could just sit and watch how your mind works all damn day and never get bored and the fact that you’d just let me… Not to mention how you take care of me and Sarah. Never thought I’d find a woman who could love my little girl like you do. You’ve given me everything and you do it every damn day. I just wanted to try and give you some of that back.”

“Joel,” you said softly, tears burning at the corners of your eyes.

��Never had a ton goin’ for me,” he said, smiling a little. “Always kinda figured I’d fucked my life up at some point but… I wouldn’t have Sarah or you without everything I did leading up to it. Makes me feel like I did something right to get the two of you in the end, you know?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, kissing him softly. “I know.”

He smiled his gentle, crooked smile at you and you just looked into his chocolate brown eyes for a moment before you sat up quickly, remembering.

“I made you brownies!” You almost jumped out of bed and Joel laughed, catching your wrist as you untangled yourself from the sheets.

“Wasn’t done with you yet,” he tugged you closer, kissing up the inside of your arm.

“I’ll be right back,” you said. “Promise.”

You went to the kitchen and put two of the brownies onto a small plate and got a large glass of water before going back to your bedroom, Joel sitting with his back propped against your headboard. You handed him the water before you climbed in bed with him, holding the plate out to him. He laughed a little.

“These look amazing,” he said, picking up a brownie and taking a huge bite, groaning a little in pleasure as he did. “Taste amazing too,” he said, his mouth full. “You’d have been ashamed of those cupcakes…”

“Next time Sarah has a baking project, just call me,” you said, taking a bite of your own brownie. “I take sex in payment for culinary lessons for the right client. Namely you.”

He smiled, tugging you against him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You snuggled in closer.

“Think we should make these brownies a holiday tradition,” Joel said, finishing his and kissing your temple. “These are damn good.”

“Plenty more where that came from, Miller,” you teased a little, sucking some of the pink frosting off your thumb. “You know, this was my first real Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah?” Joel asked, looking down at you as best he could as you stayed tucked against his side. “I do OK?”

“You did amazing,” you smiled. “Ruined me for all other men.”

“Good,” he said, settling back against the headboard. “Gonna need all other men to keep their hands off you, anyway.”

You smiled a little at that, the idea of being his and he being yours. He nuzzled down into your hair, his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he said quietly. “First of many.”

Your smile grew.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller x oc #smut fic #send asks #kit answers

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princessbrunette · 9 days

Note

can u do those outfit asks again!! i love seeing all the girly clothes!!

would you do like a week of kitty!reader's outfits iykwim? like sunday cozy monday like work

cozy, work attire, birthday party, at the beach, on the boat, w jj.. idk i need more of her wardrobe

what outfit would kitty!reader and bunny!reader be most likely to share? LIKE OMG matching outfits if kitty and bunny were friends for partying and stuff

a week of kittys outfits ♡

monday

kitty works a bartending / serving shift at the run down grill & bar. it’s a shitty shift and the customers are annoying and pervy but jj is working the same shift as a line cook so he occasionally pops out the kitchen to entertain her and cheer her up.

tuesday

a day on the boat with the pogues talking about their upcoming excursion. the hat belongs to jj, and it doesn’t go with her outfit so kitty doesn’t want to wear it — but she’s starting to get agitated from being overheated so jj forces her to.

wednesday

the pogues + kitty head off, getting caught up in the usual crazy dramatics, police chase, and dangerous escapades. kitty offers to hold jj’s gun in her girly little tote bag and he thinks that’s adorable, even letting her take a cute little selfie with it on her digital camera in the twinkie whilst the others scold him for letting her mess with it. running around in a denim mini skirt isn’t the most practical but jj isn’t complaining about the view.

thursday

debrief and wind down at the chateau to discuss their new discoveries. kitty is honestly just there for the vibes, not even sure why she’s involved but likes to be around jj as much as possible. mostly, she sits and reads and perks up when someone summons her.

friday

party time! they decide it’s best to keep a low profile and act like young people for once, forgetting their troubles for one night. however, it’s one of those rare parties where both pogues and kooks attend — meaning tensions are already pretty high, especially as rafe cameron does a full body turn to watch kitty reader walk past him, totally oblivious to his existence as she looks for the drinks table. jj however sees everything, and stares the kook down until john b yanks him away.

saturday

kitty works a short but hungover day shift at the bar before getting picked up by jj and taken back to her place. they have their usual saturday sleepover, and aside from copious amounts of sex, smoking and napping — kitty forces him into the usual girly activities like making cute little blood vials and reading his tarot. usual kitty things.

sunday

kitty runs errands with jj and end up at the chateau, hanging out, napping away the sunday scaries and eating pizza. the batman shirt was jj’s but its since been turned into a crop top.

#anon #kitty!reader #jj maybank prompt

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yelenasdiary · 5 months

Text

Until Then

Pairing: Florence Pugh X Fem! Reader.

Summary: Attending Toby’s concert in Oxford you also go the chance to meet Florence.

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: mentions of a hangover.

Type: Fluff

Author Comments: This is a request from my old blog!

Excited was an understatement when your boss approved a couple of days off for the concert you had already brought tickets too, enough if he said no, you would’ve called in sick anyways. You’d been a fan of Toby Sebastian’s ever since Florence would post some of his music on her Instagram story. You were also clearly a huge fan of Florence Pugh’s acting. The concert was on a Thursday night, so you’d requested to have Thursday, Friday, and Saturday off from work to really enjoy your time. Wednesday night you packed your things and got ready for the train ride to Oxford early Thursday morning.

You’d heard around on social media that Toby & Florence’s dad owned a café in Oxford and you wanted to check it out once your train arrived you checked into the hotel that was a few blocks away from the club Toby was playing at then you made your way to Café Coco for some brunch. The café was slightly packed with younger people, some were taking photos of the wall which confused you slightly until you were able to see that Florence had written a message and signed it. “Table for 1?” the waiter greeted you as you took in the beauty of the café. “Yes please” you smiled as he then directed you to a table outside in the sun, he gave you a menu and told you the specials for the day before telling you he’d be back in a moment to take your order.

You ordered a Full English Breakfast and a hot chocolate. “We’ll get that out to you as shortly” the waiter smile as he took the menu back and wrote down your order on the little notepad. “Thank you, are you guys usually this busy?” you asked. “Yes and no, the owner’s son is playing the club down the road so that would explain the younger people taking photos of the wall inside” he gave a soft laugh before walking away. You flicked through social media as you waited for your order, you saw that Raffie had posted on her story that she as going to the show tonight, you weren’t surprised as it is her older brother. Toby had also posted about getting ready for tonight’s show which made you even more excited. Your attention was taken away from your phone when you heard a group of young adult’s squeal with excitement.

Looking up from your phone you saw a familiar face throw a soft smile at you when your eyes met. Your heart sunk as your mind froze. Florence was here, surrounded but a small group of young adults asking for photos and autographs. You gave her a soft smile back before her attention turned to the calling of her name. Were you dreaming or was this real? You thought to yourself before the waiter placed the plate of food in front of you. “Starstruck are we?” the waiter smiled as he noticed you had looked like you’d just seen a ghost. You blushed with a smile before looking up to the waiter, “I- n-…yeah” you finally admitted. The younger male chuckled, “you should go say hi, Flo super cool, we love her!” he placed your cutlery on the table and walked away. As much as you’d love to get up and say hi, you didn’t want to bother her and seeing as she already had a fair few people wanting her attention you decided to take that little smile, she sent your way as a blessing and dug into your brunch.

You’d been enjoying your night as Toby performed all your favourite songs, you sang along and sueded to the music, you were a in the 3rd row from the stage, you made sure to take plenty of photos and videos for your memories. As Toby was performing you couldn’t help but people in front of you whispering and pointing to your right. You turned your attention as you saw Florence feeling the vibes of the show, singing and dancing. Her attention was purely watching her brother doing what he loves, she had you in an awe moment.

Before the show ended, Toby had Raffie and Florence join him on stage to sing with him. The crowd loved it as much as you did. Midnight was such a vibey song for you, a song you’d listened too most mornings while getting ready for the day or whenever you were in the bath having a relaxing evening. You made sure to film that whole performance so you could always go back and watch one of your newly found memories.

After the show you decided to end to the afterparty, now with the hopes to say hi to Florence. Your nerves were strong as you saw her standing around some fans, taking photos, laughing with them, and hugging them. You knew if you had come with friends, you wouldn’t be this nervous just to say hello but being by yourself the room looked way to packed for you to process. You ordered a drink from the bar and found a spot to sit while you talked yourself up to go meet Flo.

“Hey there!” you heard a thick British accent break you from your thoughts. Looking up to see Florence smiling at you, her eyes sparkled with the dimed lights, “Hello” you smiled back at her. “I just wanted to pop over and say how much I love your outfit!” she complemented. “Really? Wow, thank you!” you replied completed stoked that she even noticed you with people surrounding her. “Did you enjoy the show?” she asked, slowly taking the seat across from you. “I did, thank you! Toby is amazing and so were you and Raffie! I’m so glad I came! Although I am sad it’s over” you chuckled a little at the end. “Over? It’s just starting!” Florence winked jokingly, “were you at coco this afternoon?” she questioned. “Coco?”, “the Café” she replied as you came to the realisation of what she was talking about. “Oh yes! I was” you laughed slightly, “it’s a lovely café” you added before smiling at her again. “It really is! I take it your from out of town?”, “I am! I’m just here until Saturday” you replied while looking at the necklace she had on. “Well I hope you enjoy your stay” Florence smiled back at you while she noticed your attention on her necklace.

“Do you like dragonflies?” she added. Quickly turning your attention back to her green eyes you nodded lightly, “I do, I think they’re really pretty and unique”. “Here, you should have this then” she spoke as she reached behind her neck and undid the latch. “Oh no, I couldn’t” you insisted, “how about you keep it and when we meet again you can return it?” she looked at you with a gently but loving smile, placing the golden necklace in your hand. “No, really, I can’t do that, I mean…. this is such a once in a lifetime moment for me” you replied, handing the necklace back. “Please, take it. Maybe in 10 years we meet again, until then, it is yours” she spoke, refusing to take the necklace. “What’s your name?” she added, “Y/n” you replied. “Well, Y/n, until we meet again, please keep the necklace” she smiled before getting up from her seat. “Thank you, you really didn’t have to do that” you smiled at her. “Have a wonderful night” she spoke as she walked past, tapping you on the shoulder.

Later that night as you laid in bed, dangling the necklace in front of you, you couldn’t believe the events that took place tonight. You met Toby, Raffie and Florence! You questioned why Florence was so insisted that you keep her necklace, maybe she liked the fact you didn’t crowd her or maybe she saw how much you liked the little pendant. Did she mean what she said? Could you meet her again in 10 years or so? Was fate that good, that strong? The thoughts kept you awake for hours, slowly making you more and more tired, soon drifting off to sleep wondering why Florence spent the time she did with you.

The following morning you decided to go back to Café Coco for breakfast, this time you ordered a breakfast tea and an omelette before making your way around the city doing some sight-seeing and shopping. “Back again I see” the waiter from yesterday smiled to you as he placed your tea in front of you, “what can I say? That food was banging!” you replied with a smile. “I’m glad to hear that” he chuckled, “your food shouldn’t be too much longer, yell out if there is anything else you need” he added before placing a bottle of water on the table. “Thank you” you said as he walked away. The café wasn’t as crowd as yesterday, in fact it was sort of peaceful how quiet it was currently. You sipped on your tea as you flicked through the news articles on your phone as the city slowly became louder and louder with the chitter chatter of by passers.

“Please tell me that’s tea and not coffee” you heard a voice over you, you looked up and were to surprise to see Florence standing there with a smile. “It’s only right to have a tea this early in the morning” you smiled back to her. “I totally agree, tea all day every day” she joked, causing you both to chuckle. “Is this seat taken?” she asked “please, be my guest” you replied with your hand out, gesturing her to sit. “How was the rest of your night last night? No hangover?” Florence asked as she sat down across from you once again. You tried to hide the blush that washed over you, here she was, sitting across from you, the green in her eyes shined through as the sun hit her face just at the perfect angle. Proud of yourself for not completely freaking out over the fact Florence was willingly wanting to have more than a 20 second encounter with you. “I had a great night, I didn’t drink that much but I think if I were here with friends than the story would be completely different” you replied, “Oh you’re here alone?” she questioned. “Yeah, none of my friends were able to score the day off work to come to the show last night so I came alone, although it’s not that bad, I can relax and do some sight-seeing without feeling like I’m boring them” you let out a soft chuckle.

“Oh no no no! I can’t let you see the city of Oxford by yourself!” Florence replied, “let me take you around, it’ll be fun, I can show you the real oxford and not whatever google says you need to see! What do you think?” she asked excitingly. “I don’t see why you!” you replied giving her another smile. “Perfect, we’ll have breakfast and head off”.

You almost forgot about the deal from last night, “oh before I forget! Here you go” you spoke as you pulled out the golden dragonfly necklace from your purse and handed it to Florence. “You said, until we meet again that I could keep this. Well, here we are, meeting again” you added as she slightly tilted her head and smiled. “Keep it, I think it might be the perfect story for the future” she spoke, leaving you confused on her comment. “Are you sure?” you asked, “of course, and if you don’t enjoy your time today then I’ll allow you to give it back” she explained just as the waiter came back with your food.

*Huge time jump*

“Darling! Dinner is ready” your wife called from the kitchen, “I’ll be there in a moment” you spoke back as you freshened up in the bathroom. You stood looking at yourself in the mirror for a moment as you fiddled with the necklace you wore daily, reminiscing on the day Florence made the comment of the necklace being the perfect story for the future. “Babe we’re waiting!” you heard your wife call once more. You smiled before you left the bathroom and made your way downstairs to the dining room. “Mumma look! We made spaghetti!” your daughter ran to you with her arms out. “It smells amazing” you smiled as you picked her up and placed her on your hip, “is everything okay my love?” Florence turned to you as she placed a bowl of salad on the table, “everything is perfect” you smiled before giving her a soft kiss, “ewwww” your daughter cringed at the scene causing you and Florence you chuckle.

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #fanfiction

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juicybvns · 6 months

Text

movie make out :3

fem reader x toji

you loved cold rainy weather like this. wind howling through the trees and pattering against the window. it gave you an excuse to spend your saturday curled up in a ball on your bed, wrapped in a blanket and watching movies all day.

toji joined you in the room when you were putting on '10 things i hate about you.'

"oh great my favorite movie." he remarks with an eye roll sliding into the covers with you. his sarcastic tone used due to the amount of times you've watched it, making him completely over the film.

"you just wish you were as hot as heath." your eyes focused on the screen with a smile.

he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought your head to his face, kissing your furrowed brow away. "yeah yeah."

the movie a little over halfway done when you hear toji sigh deeply.

you look up towards his face, "what's wrong baby?" rubbing his chest. he looks at you, "just a bit bored, seen this a million times mama."

you leave his answer remaining in the air, facing towards the screen again then speaking.

"you know...patrick and kat kinda remind me of us." you comment with a small smile.

his face contorts into his thinking face, his eyes squinting and his lips pursing. "how so?"

"just their dynamic and ya know...you give off patrick vibes."

he turns your face towards his and looks into your eyes, analyzing your expressions, his cocky smirk forms "oh yeah?"

"never mind, you're too corny."

"nononono wait i got it!" he removes his arm from around your shoulder and holds himself up on his elbow, slightly leaning over you.

"you might not be scared of me but i'm sure you thought about me naked." he wiggles his eyebrows.

you bite your finger, a grin on your face and a giggle bubbling out. "all the time."

he has a cheesy smile looking at you laugh, his eyes full of love. he leans more forwards and whispers, "you're so beautiful." his breath tickling your ear.

"toji!"

he gently kisses your skin under your ear and on your jaw. your hand grabbing his head. those tiny kisses turning open mouthed kisses. getting more sensual with it when you hum.

he licks a stripe from your jaw to your lips slowly to kiss you. his right hand grabbing your other one to place it on his jaw. both hands on him.

his hand is rubbing your side up and down, your shirt riding up with the movement. simultaneously, he's french kissing you, all tounge, both of you guys with your eyes closed.

suckling your tongue, you moan into his mouth when his hands glides under your shirt to squeeze your breast.

he breaks the kiss to continue it down your neck sensually. you hazily open your eyes to see the ending credits of the movie on the screen. you close your eyes again once his knees slides between your legs and you feel yourself slowly start to grind on his knee.

he grabs your face, mumbling "focus on me baby" against your lips before locking them with you again.

after making out for about 10 minutes, which was the longest you've managed without his cock ending up inside you to be honest. he opens his eyes and breaks the kiss, a spit line connecting the both of you. his eyes low, set on you as he motions for you to get on top of him. he rolls onto his back, as you sat on his abdomen.

"lift your arms." he says gently. you lift them and he brings your shirt over your head, your bare chest face to face with him.

"fuck.." he whispers as he reached his hands up to cup your tits with a squeeze.

the stimulation on your nipples had you slowly grinding your hips on his hidden cock. the print very visible and thick which you felt through both of your pants.

you lean down to connect your messy lips and the grinding gradually getting more heated and pleasing. your back hunching to reach him as wet patch forms through your panties.

"mmm.." his and your heaving moaning and breathing evident throughout the whole house.

you sit up straight and scoot down to open his crotch space. you grab his waist band and look up at him to see him already smirking down at you.

whore.. you thought

he lifts his hips up and you tug his pants down for his thick cock to slap on his stomach. angry tip, thick veins, and pre cum dribbling down the side with the little twitch noticeable. don't forget the little trimmed happy trail leading to it.

damn he's fine.

you lean your head over his cock and spit a glob on it before grabbing it and lubing it up, stroking his dick with the twist motion.

he's still looking down at you with his hands placed under his head and him biting his bottom lip.

"do ya thing mamas."

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sirfrogsworth · 3 months

Text

Mental Health Sushi

My brain was a bag full of cats today and I really needed to get out of the house. I was also craving sushi.

Or maybe I was craving sushi because of the brain cats?

I don't get paid until Saturday so my friend told me he would buy me dinner to help me calm the cats.

I still don't have my new lens. They said it would be in stock by "end of week" so hopefully that means tomorrow. But my brain cats were also desiring photography.

Some demanding-ass cranial felines to be sure.

I headed across the river to Nice Sam's and I challenged myself to take some photos as I acquired sushi.

Sam's is a challenging place to get cool photos so I thought I would do something experimental to make things more interesting. I love panoramic photos but most people look at stuff on their phones and horizontal panos always look like a tiny sliver. So I wondered if it would be cool if I did vertical panoramas.

I started looking straight down and took 5 photos gradually raising my camera upward.

To all of the grade school bullies who made fun of my belly... I can totally see my feet.

I found the sushi and they had some interesting things. I tried doing a giant sushi panorama but my lens had way too much barrel distortion and the way I shot it caused... issues.

All of those vertical lines didn't help the situation.

If you use a wide angle lens it is best practice to rotate the camera around a nodal point.

This helps eliminate parallax artifacts and helps Photoshop get a better stitch. It can sort of unwrap and flatten your photos like the label on a soda bottle. But when I took a photo, I moved to the left, took a photo, moved to the left, took a photo. That's a better technique when you have a more tele lens with less distortion on the edges.

In any case, I grabbed some spicy tuna roll, a "dynamite" roll (which I had never tried before), and a variety pack.

Once I got my sushi I tried a few more vertical panoramas in the parking lot.

These two are kinda neat when you switch back and forth rapidly. My belly and feet line up. And I totally planned that. Definitely not a coincidence.

Hey PandaKhan! Put your cart back in the corral!

I was trying to look cool and roll my cart so it buttsex'd into the next one... but that just inched it forward. So I had to buttsex them the less cool way.

Which is a reminder to all you buttsexing folks to use a quality lubricant.

Oh, and I was also test driving my new jacket. I haven't needed to outstretch my arms like Superman as of yet, so the sizing might be okay after all.

Though, do those shoulders look a bit bunchy to you? I'm getting linebacker vibes from this photo. I dunno. I'm going to take better pictures later so I can evaluate the fit a little better. It's hard to tell from the mirror shots.

When I got home I started with the Dynamite Roll.

The crunchy onions on top were very tasty.

I don't know if my brain cats are any better but at least I'm not hungry anymore.

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blueywrites · 1 year

Text

Where you and Steve swing with Eddie and Chrissy, and it gets complicated.

TO KNOW YOU'RE MINE (modern!swingers!au) (18+ only)

eddie munson x chrissy cunningham x steve harrington x you

fem!reader, chubby!reader, minimal use of y/n, body insecurity, swingers, angst, hurt/comfort. minor spoilers for the show 'The Last of Us,' episode three.

chapter eleven : angel (14k) | playlist | AO3 | next

🎵 in this au, deftones=corroded coffin. the playlist is a combination of R's sad girl music vibes and some foreshadowing. the songs for this chapter are #35-#36. #36, the title song, doesn't appear in the text, so you can play it whenever it feels appropriate.

I've been afraid all of my life

Crippled with anxiety, shame and doubt

And sometimes, sometimes I'd like to shout

At the top of my lungs and just let it out

What has that fear ever done for me

But hold me back?

What has jealousy and hate ever done for you

But remind you of what you think you lack?

So give me love and give me compassion

Self-forgiveness and give me some passion

I love you even if you don't love me

I love you even if you can't love me

Angel— First Aid Kit

There’s a moment upon waking on Saturday that you feel the same as you did twenty-four hours before. The moon is round and full; your earth is cold and numb. Its beams are peaceful, tranquil, sterile as they glint off your frosted leaves. You have not yet recalled the warm light that awakened your growth and left it just as quickly to the dark of twilight, the whisper of smoke that flowed into your lungs and left you breathless with poignant longing. You have not yet noticed the puffiness of your eyes, the rattle of your breath in your lungs, or the deep, rending ache at the bottom of you.

You blink, and as the late sunlight falls across your eyes, you remember.

Penny had found you howling on the floor, puddled in your charcoal despair. Your sister’s arms clasped you tight as she sputtered her distressed confusion, begging you to tell her what was wrong. You’d worked it out in bits and pieces— explanations choked through trembling lips, halted by the gasps and sobs and whines of a wounded animal. You’d felt like a child when she rocked you, shushing you softly, petting your hair like your mother had when you’d come home from elementary school scraped raw from your friends’ rejection. In the moment, you hadn’t cared how childlike you’d become, more than eager to relinquish your twenty-four-year-old self to the comfort of your sister’s surety. She wiped your face clear of the tracks of your mascara, the color dark like charcoal to stain the sleeves of her sweater. It stained Penny, but in doing so, she took it from you— took it until your tears dried up, until your muscles trembled with relief and fatigue. Penny held you on the kitchen floor as you wrested back control of your body. You scrubbed your hands over your wet, flushed face, whimpering into your palms until you finally quieted.

You picked yourself up then, moving through the steps of recovery: retreating to the bathroom to wash your cheeks, to run your wrists under warm water, to take deep breaths until they were no longer labored, the entire time avoiding the sight of your swollen face in the mirror. When you’d emerged, Penny was thumping the knife against the cutting board, holding firm as you offered in a small voice to take over again. Obstinate, your sister refused you, directing you to the couch with a firm hand and concern shining in her eyes. She finished your stir fry, serving you a bowl you thanked her for with a brief smile but ate listlessly before turning in for an early night.

After the tease of Eddie’s presence, no longer can you feel pleasantly numb. Instead, now that the well of your tears has dried, you just feel empty. Bereft. Like the earth has been churned, disturbed; turned over and left wanting for what has been removed. But when you heave a deep sigh, breath stirring the motes floating like fairy dust in the shaft of light spilling from Penny’s beloved window, you reach tentatively down to find that your growth is still there, standing tall. When you run a finger lightly up its stalk, it trembles within, leaves quivering a response to your tentative touch. It hurts, like the soreness of a bruise, but it does not waver. You trace the green up to where it vines around your ribcage, tendrils peeking to greet your exploration with a gentle touch. And as you pull yourself out of bed, for the first time, you fully accept your growth. Yes, there is pain where it has been cut deep by the sharpness of flinty words and languished in the cold light of the moon, further wounded by the sudden reminder of what you have lost. But there is also strength. Your growth holds your bones, cradling them securely; its fruit has not fallen or begun to molder and rot. The realization that it cannot be uprooted— that it is a part of you— is not one of grief as it was last night. Instead, it is the acceptance that what Eddie tended inside you cannot be culled. No matter what happens now, you have what you need to thrive.

This recognition carries you through your morning routine completed many hours late, and you emerge from the shower with renewed vigor and a healthy flush to your cheeks. Where you might have clothed yourself in baggy comfort intending to spend the day on the couch wrapped in the television's mind-numbing noise, you instead dress to make yourself feel good in your skin: structured skinny jeans, a clingy long-sleeve, and fun earrings. The swelling around your eyes is soothed by cool eye cream, and the flush in your cheeks is accentuated by a fresh face of light makeup. Your hair isn’t left limp to dry slowly on its own. Instead, you style it, facing yourself head-on in the bathroom mirror as you run your fingers through soft strands. You’re pleasantly surprised to see bright eyes and the dimple of a smile that doesn’t feel forced, so far from the anguished girl you’d been the night before.

Penny is equally as surprised when you wander into the kitchen, stomach growling from the late waking hour, closer to evening than to morning. “Hey,” she greets you cautiously, jangling keys halting in her palm, eyes wide and locked on you as you duck to root in the refrigerator for sustenance.

“Hey!” You return her greeting warmly, your fond smile growing when you notice the worry furrowing her brow where she’s poised near the front door, coat half-on. “You heading out?”

“I— yeah.” She confirms even as she starts to reverse the motion, shedding her coat as she explains, “I didn’t think you’d be up for a while. I was gonna get the ingredients for your cake. I can wait and keep you company, though.” She hangs the coat on the rack, tacking on, “I’ll just go later.”

Your brows jump at the reminder. Before last night’s unexpected visitor, you'd told her about the cake you were planning to make this weekend for your coworker Sherry’s birthday on Monday. A box cake didn’t feel like enough to repay the years of kindness the motherly woman had bestowed on your office, so you’d resolved to make it from scratch: a decadent chocolate cake with a cup of fresh-brewed coffee as the secret ingredient. It’s not as difficult to bake as it might sound, but you do need to buy semi-sweet cocoa and powdered sugar for the buttercream frosting.

“Don’t you have Charlie’s awards thing tonight?”

Penny exhales a long, weary sigh. “Y/n. I’m not going anymore.”

What ensues is a brief sisterly squabble in which Penny insists on staying home to take care of you, and you insist that you need nothing of the sort. “Look at me!” You exclaim, arms thrown wide in exasperation. “Do I look like I need you to baby me?” You soften. “I’m really okay, Pen. Charlie will be so disappointed if you miss his ceremony. It’s not every day your boyfriend receives the medal of valor in firefighting.”

Your sister huffs, grumbling, “It’s not the medal of valor; it’s a medal of valor. There’s more than one.” She runs her eyes over you, assessing, hedging, trying to penetrate through any facade you may be putting on. When she sighs again, this time in resignation, your smile widens to a beam. “Fine.” She concedes. “We can go to the store together, and then I’ll go to the ceremony.”

With a sharp huff, you cross your arms. “Pen—!”

Penny doesn’t win that argument either, begrudgingly acknowledging that you’re right; she wouldn’t have enough time to get ready if she accompanied you to the grocery store. You scarf down some food and make a list of your shopping for the week, and by the time you hear her clicking back to the front door, you've finished your list. You see her clasping her earring, now bedecked in high heels and a pretty dress. “I’ll be back tonight,” she promises you from the threshold. “Text me if you need me, okay?”

The tenderness in her voice is clear, and you look up from your list to flash her a soft, grateful smile. “I will, Pen. Love you.”

“Love you.”

–

The trip to the grocery store just down the street from Penny’s house is both mundane and soothing. It’s dated, but the aisles are always clean, and you slip into the anonymous sea of people doing their Saturday afternoon shopping, a small smile of contentment blooming on your face as your cart squeaks rhythmically with your easy steps. Methodically, you mosy down each aisle, reaching soft fingers toward fruits and vegetables, grains and rice. As you go, you scratch them from the handwritten list nestled in your purse, placed conveniently in the top basket of your cart. The routine of it all— the normalcy— brings comfort.

You reach the baking aisle near the tail end of your list, with only the dairy aisle left to be visited. The speakers are playing ‘Ain’t It Fun’ as you plop the floppy bag of powdered sugar absentmindedly into your cart, eyes scanning the shelves for the semi-sweet cocoa powder. You step back with a contemplative pooch to your lips, brows perking when you finally spot it on the top shelf. It’s pushed back from the edge, likely one of the last ones, not commonly restocked. You move in until your front is nearly pressed to the shelves, biting your lip as your wiggling fingers flop for the plastic tub. Futiley, you meet nothing but air and metallic shelving. You plant your hands on your hips, reassessing with squinted eyes and a more exaggerated pooch when you register a tall presence at your side.

“What’re you trying to get?”

The unfamiliar man is middle-aged, donning a checkered shirt and kind crow's feet that crinkle in their practiced creases when he smiles encouragingly at you. You turn shy eyes back to the shelf. “The semi-sweet cocoa,” you say, motioning to the top shelf. “It’s too far back for me.”

Wordlessly, he reaches up, hand disappearing from your sight as it wedges between other containers of chocolate. It comes back quickly with your treasure, and the man drops it into your grateful hands.

“Thank you so much,” you say, and he meets you with an easy smile and a wave of his hand.

“‘S nothing. Have a good one.”

He’s turning away as you smile back. “You too—”

A familiar voice from behind interjects, feminine and light. “I can't believe I ever fell for that. Your innocent little sweet girl routine.”

Light but mocking. Feminine but laced with venom.

You freeze with dumbfounded shock, hand poised on the bar of your cart as your eyes flick and catch bright blue.

Chrissy.

Her appearance is startling, and not just because you never would have expected to see her here outside the city. She looks disheveled in a way only cool girls can pull off, but as your eyes dart over her, you realize that Chrissy isn’t artfully disheveled. She’s actually disheveled: hair a tangle of waves piled into a messy bun atop her head, face creased with old foundation, body wrapped in a puffy cardigan, its bulk on her tiny frame making her shoulders appear frail where they’re bunched by her ears. Her frame is tight with tension, arms crossed, dainty fingers digging tight into the fuzzy material, scrunching it in the crooks of her elbows. And on her face is an expression you’ve never seen: eyes big and glassy but sharp like steel, bow lips contorted in a sneer. There’s something beneath the surface of her powdery-soft skin, and it’s writhing like the coils of a lithe snake, poised to strike.

Chrissy’s hard stare doesn’t waver in the face of your wide-eyed surprise. Instead, she jolts out a hand, pink nails flashing to points at the end of her thin fingers. “Show me the texts, y/n. Eddie deleted them all.”

Your mouth goes dry at the demand, and your spread fingers twitch into a loose fist where your forearm rests on the cart’s handle, your wrist curling away from your purse. Your many late-night musical exchanges with Eddie flash in your mind, largely innocent aside from the occasional ‘sweet girl’ from Eddie and the daringness of your ‘Touch Tank’ send. Though, then there’s the last conversation from four months ago, arranging for you to come to see him at his show. Heat prickles down the back of your neck, discomfort tightening in your chest as you open your mouth to reply.

Not quickly enough, apparently, because Chrissy’s pressing on, that snake writhing with the twist of her lips. “Or,” she snaps, “maybe you’re too smart for that. Maybe you’ve deleted them all, too. Or maybe you’d stuck to calling him instead. Is that it, y/n? Have you been calling my boyfriend in the middle of the night, begging for his cock?”

You flush instantly hot with embarrassment as the crude word pops from Chrissy’s bow lips, eyes darting to the anonymous bodies in the aisle around you. Their eyes flash to the pair of you instantly with her exclamation. But the absurdity of the question, the utter wrongness of it, rouses you to action. Your voice is soft and edged with pleading as you turn to her fully. “Chrissy, what? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She scoffs harshly, brows twisting up in incredulity. There’s so much venom in Chrissy’s voice that it’s hard to imagine it’s coming from her pretty mouth. “Don’t play dumb with me, y/n. I know you made up some excuse so he’d see you. ‘Oh,’” she whines mockingly, “‘my car is broken! Eddie, come save me!’” Her gaze goes flat. “And, of course, you convinced him to give you a ride home so you could fuck him in the back of his van.”

The weight of others’ silent gazes presses upon you from either side of the aisle. Deep mortification rises immediately and rushes down your spine, leaving you flushed and prickling hot with shame. It’s made worse by the knowledge that Chrissy’s accusations are on display for these anonymous others; their stares are oppressive as the viper strikes with dripping fangs. “Gonna deny it?” She spits.

There is the initial instinct to deny, to shrink away and hide. It would save face, rescue you from the judgment of those people pretending to shop, their ears honed to every word of juicy tension being exchanged in the baked goods aisle of the grocery store like a roadside spectacle. But it would be a lie. And there are firm roots at the bottom of you, anchoring you in the truth.

So your green straightens your spine. White blooms tip up your chin. Your red fruit nourishes your tongue, unlocking your jaw as you gaze into the sharp blue eyes of your friend. “I won’t deny it,” you say, voice soft but not weak, gaze even. “Eddie did help me when my car broke down on the highway. He did give me a ride home. And we did sleep together.”

Chrissy’s brow twitches minutely, eyes widening as you acknowledge it so plainly, making no attempt to evade the truth. She appears briefly to be at a loss for words, and it occurs to you that she must have expected you to argue, that you’d probably thrown her off by admitting the truth so readily. The remorse that leaks into your expression is sincere. “I know it was wrong. We shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done that to you. You’re my friend.” A lump rises in your throat as her face flickers. “I know I can’t ever make up for it, but I’m sorry, Chrissy. I’m really sorry.”

Chrissy’s eyes are big and glassy, though they’re still hard, as if she’s refusing to let tears fall. Her face twitches— brow, lip, nose, jaw— and suddenly she looks so frail, like with just one small nudge, she’d shatter into dainty little pieces.

Everyone knows butterflies are beautiful, bold and boastful in their colors and patterns. It does something to a person, that knowledge; they come to expect attention and praise. They come to think they’re entitled to it. So it’s unfathomable— impossible, really— to consider that a moth, with its thick body and more subtle colors, could possibly turn the head of one who’d long been allured by the butterfly’s charm. It defies all that the butterfly knows.

This monarch— this queen— has suckled her whole life from milkweed flowers, storing toxins in her body. Bold, beautiful, and boastful; powdery-soft, yet unable to be anything but poisonous. Chrissy Cunningham, doomed from the moment she nibbled the leaves of the milkwood, the only sustenance the world provided.

Your sincerity is not enough, and it never could be.

A mocking scoff falls from bow lips, and Chrissy’s eyes narrow nearly to slits. “You're so full of shit, y/n. You’re actually trying to convince me you’re sorry when I know you’ve been trying to get Eddie to leave me for months. It’s sick.” She cocks a hip, and beyond her, a mother and her daughter amble by the aisle; the older woman cranes her head to keep looking as they pass.

Your eyes dart to them briefly, but you’re shaking your head before Chrissy even finishes speaking, quick and earnest with your reply. “No, Chrissy. When I broke up with Steve, I talked to Eddie a few days later, and I told him that we shouldn't see each other anymore. I haven’t seen him for four months. I hadn’t seen him,” you correct, “until he came by yesterday. To talk,” you tack on, not wanting to imply something unintentionally. Your eyes search hers, brow creasing but stable in your truth. “I am sorry for what I did to you, Chrissy. But I haven’t been talking to Eddie.”

She shakes her head before you’ve finished speaking, just like you had, but the motion is sharp and jerky as if to dislodge your words from between her ears. “What, did you two rehearse this or something?”

You’re about to point out that it’s not rehearsed, it’s just the truth, but Chrissy changes tack abruptly, dropping her arms to ball her fists at her sides. Her voice becomes shriller, more acerbic with each word. “What did you do to get him to finally do it, huh? What lies did you feed him, you homewrecker? You stupid slut!”

The words are like a verbal slap, but not in the way she intends. The unfairness of it— of calling you a homewrecker when you’d made the torturous decision to break things off with Eddie to try to do right by Chrissy— summons more heat beneath the collar of your shirt, but not from embarrassment. Your creased brow tightens to a frown. “Look, I know you’re upset, Chrissy, and you have every right to be. But I’m not a homewrecker.”

Gone are wide smiles made charming by crooked teeth. Cute giggles exchanged across restaurant tables are distant memories. Instead, Chrissy’s laughter is jagged, edged with mania— a rattle in her throat, like the tail of a venomous snake. “You’re right,” she says, blue eyes glittering as she sneers, “You’re not a homewrecker because you’re just a temporary fuck. Once Eddie gets you out of his system, he’ll come crawling right back to me.”

A smooth customer service voice interrupts the music above your heads, announcing a special on certain varieties of Halloween candy. It hits you again— the absurdity that this sensitive conversation is happening in the baking aisle of the grocery store. It’s more than absurd, really. It’s a violation. But Chrissy is still ranting, all pretense of softness stripped from her voice as it pierces over the announcement. “—asshole is lucky to be with me. Lucky I’ve put up with his dumb shit for all these years—”

More than anything, this is what makes your chest begin to buzz, indignation tightening in your limbs. You raise your voice for the first time, questioning heatedly, “How can you even say that? Eddie’s a good man, and he deserves—”

You’re cut off with a hiss. “What do you know about what he deserves?”

Your reply is firm, decisive. “He deserves respect.”

Part of you is satisfied to see how Chrissy’s porcelain face goes pink with utter rage as you imply that you respect Eddie more than she does, that you care for him more than she does. And it seems that perhaps that’s what does it— what shifts Chrissy’s motivation from wanting answers to wanting to strike you hard and deep, to sink her fangs into your flesh and inflict damage.

Chrissy Cunningham’s beautiful face contorts into something ugly. “No self-respecting guy would ever really want to be with a girl like you, y/n.” Her eyes flick you up and down condescendingly. “That fat ass is only good for one thing—”

“That’s enough.”

You blink, almost taken aback at the sound of your own voice. There is no wobble; it is commanding, firm enough that Chrissy’s dainty jaw snaps shut as if compelled, closing her fangs away.

The bite of her insult is the culmination of everything you’ve always feared. That you’re not pretty enough. Not good enough. Not enough to truly love. But where those words would once have sunk into the empty earth at the bottom of you, seeping through the soil to poison you slowly, you’ve since been tended, and your green is verdant and tall.

Chrissy’s venom falls like rain onto your green. It sizzles as it slides along the soft plush of your vines and stems, but it does not reach your earth. Your leaves quiver, and they flick it away.

You meet the eyes of your former friend directly, and you do not waver. “You can believe me or not because I know the truth, and nothing can change that. But I won’t stand here and have you insinuate that I’m less of a person because of how I look. I know what I’m worth.” You take firm hold of your cart, fists tightening around the handle, swinging it around to face her. Chrissy flinches, and you merely quirk a brow as you calmly maneuver the cart around her. As you come up even with her, close enough to reach out and touch the fuzz of her sweater or the tangle of the strawberry-blonde waves atop her head, you regard her with one last cool stare. “Eddie makes his own decisions, and something tells me he won’t regret this one.”

Chin up, head held high, you guide your squeaky cart with even steps from the aisle, ignoring the weight of the stares you gather as you pass. You haven’t hit the dairy aisle yet, but you veer toward the front of the store to pay, body on autopilot as your mind replays the last few minutes of your life.

Once you stop in front of the self-check-out kiosk, it starts to hit you— the wave of emotion that rises as your adrenaline wears off. You’d been utterly blindsided by the confrontation with Chrissy, and in the moment, all you could do was react. Now, you’re left reeling. What just happened? Your fingers tremble as you hastily swipe your items across the sensor, dropping them into paper bags as you try to conceal that rising feeling. Your cheeks puff as you exhale shakily, inserting your credit card, foot tapping against the tile until that mechanical voice reminds you not to forget your receipt. You snatch it from the machine and contain, contain, contain until you load your groceries in the trunk and slide into the driver’s seat of your old blue car. The vehicle is now a reminder of your shame, which was broadcasted by your former friend for all to hear.

In the safety of your car, the tide overtakes you. Bewilderment and humiliation crest, manifesting in a trembling bottom lip and the hot roll of silent tears down your cheeks. You sniffle but don’t wipe your cheeks; instead, you pull out your phone and call the only person who can clarify what the fuck is going on.

This time, you think he might not answer, but breathless smoke greets you at the last moment. “Hello?”

There’s a sense of deja vu as you hear Eddie’s voice on the other end, close but distorted slightly. The loud grind of something mechanical in the background disorients you further, and your breath hitches as you try to speak through the tears. “Hello?” Eddie repeats his greeting with an edge of urgency. “Y/n?”

The sound of your name on his lips forces the gasp through your lips, a shuddering exhale of desperation and relief. “Eddie,” you choke, and his urgency increases tenfold.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I—” you sniffle, fingers fisting on your thigh as you push through your trembling. You’re trying to tell him what happened, but the wave of your emotion has the thoughts swirling in your head, stuttering out through clumsy lips. “I was in the store, and— and Chrissy was— she said all this stuff, and I— I don’t know what’s going on,” you end with a helpless whine, a plea for clarity punctuated with another thick sniffle.

Eddie sounds nearly as helpless, though also confused. “Y/n, I can’t really understand you.” There’s a brief pause, and then a question asked as if he’s afraid of the answer. “Are you crying?”

“Mmm—” a choked little whimper is all you can manage, but it must be confirmation enough.

“Where are you?” Eddie’s voice is so gentle and concerned that the tears flow faster. “I’ll come, sweet girl. Just tell me where you are.”

You’re only five minutes from home; it makes no sense to have him meet you in the parking lot. You run your finger over the seam on the steering wheel, lips twisting as you ask, “C-can you just come to Penny’s? I n-need—”

You don’t even have to finish the sentence. “I’m clocking out right now,” Eddie says, and your finger halts in its path, stomach sinking.

“Oh—” Your dismay is clear in the smallness of your voice. “I forgot you work Saturdays.” You swipe beneath your eyes with your free hand, steadying yourself with a deep breath. “Nevermind, you can—”

You’re about to tell him he can just come over after work, but Eddie doesn’t let you. “I’ll be there in twenty,” he says, and then he’s gone without another word.

As you stare at your phone screen, guilt prickles low within you, but it can’t overwhelm the sense of relief that Eddie’s insistence brings. You keep the promise of clarity at the forefront of your mind as you drive the short distance back to your sister’s house, trying to ignore the thrill of anticipation that blooms low at the thought of seeing Eddie again. Still, the implications of Chrissy’s confrontation begin to seep through your defenses. By the time you’re unlocking Penny’s front door, paper bags loaded in your arms, you’re quivering for an entirely different reason.

You unload the bags onto the kitchen island and shuffle to the bathroom, somewhat reluctant to look in the mirror and assess the damage. When you finally do, you’re relieved to see you’re not as much of a mess as you’d feared, especially compared to last night. And it’s not like you’re trying to hide that you’d been crying— Eddie already knows you were. Thankfully, your mascara hasn’t really run aside from a small smudge beneath each eye, and though your cheeks and nose are blushed and hot, and your lashes are clumped and wet, a few tissues get you back into adequate shape.

And good thing, too. Because, though it’s nearly incomprehensible since it’s only been ten minutes, someone is knocking on your door, and you know it isn’t Penny.

Deepening light spills across the paper bags on your kitchen island like the smoldering embers of the day have flared once more before fizzling out. Golden hour, you think absently, eyes locked on the mahogany door as if you can see through to the man you know is standing on the other side. Your heart thunders as you shuffle closer, the tide of your emotions rising again, prickling at your eyes. Relief, trepidation, anticipation, hope, fear. They all rush through you, thundering with each frantic pump of your heart as your toes nudge against the welcome mat. The metal of the doorknob is slippery in your palm.

Slowly, almost shyly, you open the door.

Eddie is rocking on the balls of his feet, one knee jiggling, fist tapping his opposite thigh in a futile attempt to release the tension, but the motions ease as he sees you. All that’s left is the rapid rise of his chest beneath a grease-stained gray tank, visible thanks to the coveralls tied around his hips.

The first thing you register is that he’s dirty. Impossibly dirty. His pale quartz neck is glistening and smudged with it, and the pits of his tank are darkened with the evidence of his labor. His curls are tied back but loosely now, a single head shake away from coming undone; the dark pieces falling around his jaw are frizzy, and his bangs cling to his forehead. His face is darkened by grime left behind by hasty swipes of those calloused fingers, which you imagine must have pinched his chin in thought, scrubbed over his face in consternation, and scratched at his jaw when the drying sweat itched him.

Eddie is utterly filthy. But when he raises his hands, grubby and dark like charcoal, you want nothing more than to feel him stain every inch of you. Your face softens, the relief of his presence unable to be concealed.

“Baby—” The choked endearment seems pulled from involuntarily, and your breath hitches at the tenderness of it. Eddie’s brow pinches, brown eyes melting like honey as his fingers extend, seeking you as if by instinct. His eyes flick from your face to his hands as they reach for you, widening as if he’s just noticed the grease marring his skin.

Those calloused fingers jerk back before they make contact with you, and the abruptness has you jolting back too. You only just now notice that you’d been leaning in, swaying toward him subconsciously.

For a moment, you and Eddie just stare at each other, the relief of your reunion ticking into awkwardness as you simultaneously flinch away. Quickly, Eddie blurts, “Sorry, it’s just— I’m a fuckin’ mess—”

Your brows flash up as you rush to reassure him, bumbling over yourself as you step back to make room for him to come in. “No, it’s okay, really—” You huff a little awkward chuckle in an attempt to dispel the tension, biting your lip as Eddie clomps inside and pauses on the welcome mat. As he makes a brusque attempt to wipe off his hands on his coveralls, which are surprisingly less dirty than his skin, you offer, “You can wash in the kitchen sink.”

Wide brown eyes blink at you, and you flush without knowing why. “There’s more room there than in the bathroom,” you explain before realizing that maybe Eddie thinks you’re telling him he needs to wash up to come in the house. You hasten to add, “I mean, i-if you want to.”

He answers after a beat. “Yeah, no, that’d be good.” He’s playing with his upper lip with the tip of his tongue, a nervous gesture that you need to look away from immediately. You can already feel your moths stirring, and you haven’t even gotten any answers yet. You can't afford to be distracted.

You lead Eddie to the kitchen and he trails after you, lanky limbs tucked close to his body like he’s afraid to brush against anything. The farmhouse sink is deep, concealing Eddie’s ink up to the elbows as he wets them and pumps dish soap into his hands, scrubbing over the length of his arms, almost up to his shoulders. Dirt swirls into white porcelain as he runs calloused fingers carefully, though somewhat sheepishly, over his cheeks, mouth, and chin, then down onto his neck and over his collarbone, dripping water to darken the gray of his tank.

Brown flashes toward you, and it's then you realize you’re hovering.

You whirl away, snatching up the paper towels on the island and plopping them down beside him. You nudge them a little closer, eyes trailing over the hair that curls delicately at the edge of his ear. “Here,” you say, nodding your chin toward the paper towels when he glances over.

“Thanks.” You nod, backing off and busying yourself by unpacking the groceries from your paper bags. A loud rip draws your eyes from a container of bright red strawberries back to the sink. You suppress a smile when you see the ridiculous amount of paper towels Eddie’s torn from the roll, though you can’t help the exasperated shake of your head as you pile the powdered sugar and cocoa together, fidgeting with them to occupy your fingers.

“Where’s— oh.” You hear Eddie cut himself off behind you, ears honed to the heaviness of his bootsteps and the creak of the garbage can as he lifts the lid to drop the paper in. You swallow, nerves rising as all goes silent. You glance over your shoulder to find him damp but notably cleaner than when he came in.

Hesitantly, you offer, “Do you wanna sit?” You motion toward one of the stools at the island. He accepts your invitation soundlessly, jerking over, awkward like a newborn colt as he folds himself onto the wood. Gingerly, Eddie places his elbows on the counter, moving slowly in your space as if overly aware he’s invading it. And, sure, you’d invited him here, but you can feel it too— that foreignness, same as you’d felt with his dark presence on the couch that first time in your and Steve’s apartment. After four months, it's conspicuous and unfamiliar in a way the shock of his presence yesterday hadn't allowed you to truly notice..

You’re unsure whether to sit down or stay standing, unsure what to do with your hands, unsure what to say. But when Eddie glances at you and away, back and forth again with little hesitant flits of his wide brown eyes, you call upon the green that grows sturdy through your center. It was you who asked him to come; it should be up to you to begin this conversation.

“Sorry I wasn’t making sense on the phone,” you start. “But thanks for coming.” You glance at Eddie, and he nods, expression open and waiting. “I guess I’ll just… start at the beginning. I was at the grocery store, grocery shopping—” your cheeks pink at the inanity of the statement, and you throw a little sheepish glance at Eddie. “As one does,” you poke fun at yourself, and a corner of his mouth quirks in amusement, though it doesn’t assuage the concern in his eyes. Your fingers begin to itch, so you grab one of the paper bags, folding it as you talk. You speak over the crinkles, musing, “I was getting ingredients for this cake I’m making for my coworker. I turned around, and Chrissy was just… there.” The folded bag gets placed on the counter, and you smooth it with your fingers, wondering how Chrissy found you, not even at your sister’s apartment, but out at the store. Your nose wrinkles in confusion. “How did she even know where I was? I haven’t talked to her in months. I don’t even know—”

It dawns on you suddenly.

“She must have used ‘find my friends,’” you say, eyes darting to Eddie in realization. “I forgot I had that on.” You suddenly register your fidgeting fingers and force them to still; shyness blooms, but you push through. “...Is that how you found me?”

Eddie licks along his bottom lip. “No,” he answers, holding your gaze. “I asked Steve.”

You aren’t sure which is more of a shock: Chrissy showing up out of the blue or Eddie asking your ex-boyfriend, who knows you broke up with him because of your feelings for the other man, to help him find you. You blink, dumbstruck, voice a little weak. Reeling from the implication of it. “And he actually—?”

Eddie’s brown eyes are soft with the knowledge you share, and he doesn’t speak. He just nods.

A welling of emotions rises in you then: a potent mixture of gratefulness and wistfulness, of poignant, bittersweet appreciation as you consider how, even though you’d hurt each other, it hasn’t changed who Steve is at his core.

Despite his mistakes, Steve Harrington is a good man.

You manage a little smile, and Eddie does the same. You find yourself hoping that maybe the threads that tie Eddie and Steve together may not snap after all.

“So what happened?”

Eddie’s smoke voice prompts you out of your reverie, and your smile turns wry. "She cornered me in the baking aisle, demanding to see the texts she thought you deleted."

Eddie huffs an incredulous chuckle, but there's no humor in it. "I'm so fucking sorry." He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face and mussing his bangs in a move that makes your yearning bloom, though you know he didn’t intend it to. "I was gonna talk to you later this weekend. I spent all last night collecting my shit off the lawn and moving into Gareth's place—"

You interrupt, incredulous. “She threw your stuff outside?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie chuckles, and there is some humor in it this time. It’s dry but present as he tips his head, adding, “She was... not happy.”

“I gathered that,” you say, not unkindly.

Eddie sobers, leaning back on the stool as he gazes at you. His voice is quieter when he speaks again. “What did she say to you?”

Chrissy’s shrill voice echoes in your mind, a haze of diluted venom that mists your green.

—you homewrecker, you stupid slut—

—asshole’s lucky I put up with his shit for years—

—he’ll come crawling back—

—a girl like you—

Leaves sizzle, and white flowers shake; you avert your eyes, voice a bit small. “A-a bunch of stuff, Eddie. You don't wanna hear it all.” He accepts your reticence with a reassuring nod, and gratefulness dilutes the poison. Your eyes catch on the powdered sugar and cocoa, a welcome distraction you latch to. “I need to start baking this cake,” you say. You’re surprised when Eddie perks.

“I can help you.”

You’re reminded of the other time Eddie helped you in the kitchen. How nervous you’d been watching him talk with Steve and Chrissy over on your couch. How his body nearly brushed yours when he reached up to take down the crackers; how you’d feared he was trying to make a move when you weren’t yet ready.

Now you know he wasn’t.

Now you know he never would have.

Before you can suppress it, a mischievous smile tugs at your lips. Eddie spots it, matching it with a bemused smile of his own. “What?” He snaps playfully.

Your amusement is clear. “Remember when you dumped the crackers on the tray the first time you came to the apartment?”

Eddie husks a chuckle, scrubbing a hand again over his face. When it drops, you’re surprised to see a tinge of pink. “I was nervous,” he admits.

Shock and delight. “Nervous around little old me?” You tease, eyes sparkling.

“Yes!” The word bursts out of him as he leans over the counter toward you, the tips of his ears still pink when he flops back again. “I dunno,” he says, a little bashful. “I just didn't wanna mess things up.”

To know that beneath the bravado and his dark ink exterior, Eddie had felt just as you had... Warmth blooms as your moth wings flutter. You’re instantly more endeared to him. “You didn’t mess things up,” you say quietly, and you know he sees it, hears it— the evidence of your feeling. You take a quick breath, continuing on. “Okay. You can help me with the cake.”

Eddie scrambles up eagerly as you pull up the recipe on your phone, setting it between you on the counter. Together you prepare to bake, moving around each other carefully, feeling out the unpracticed rhythm of sharing a space. Eddie surveys the ingredients and retrieves the wet from the fridge as you gather the rest of the dry. You brew the cup of coffee and direct him towards the utensils— spatula to the right of the sink, electric beater in the deep drawer beneath it. As you grease and flour the pan, he asks you how to set the oven. And all throughout, you find the clarity you’d wanted, punctuating your discussion with little directions and adjustments as you bake together.

“So, yeah,” you say. “Chrissy wasn't quiet about it when she confronted me. She knew about the van, and she accused me of trying to, like, convince you to—” you stumble on the word, heart leaping, though you try to conceal it— “b-break up with her.”

Blessedly, it’s easier to talk about this as Eddie cracks eggs into the metal bowl, tongue tip sneaking between his lips. But at the waver in your voice, his brown eyes find yours.

“Shit,” he mutters, dropping his wrists to lean against the counter. “Fuck, y/n, I'm so sorry. If I had any idea she'd do that to you…” Eddie sighs, eyes heavy with regret. You find yourself wishing you could take it from him. “I didn't say anything like that, that you wanted me to break up with her or something. Probably shouldn't have told her anything at all, but she just—"

Eddie breaks off, glancing away, jaw tight. The pain in his expression is clear, and you think of claws in his back, blood staining hotel sheets. Though it had been a shock that Chrissy knew about the van, and part of you wants to be indignant that you’d been blindsided, you can’t really be mad at Eddie. You’d seen it for too long— the hold she has over him.

Had, your mind whispers, and wings flutter.

"It's not your fault." Eddie shakes his head, curls coming loose, but you don’t let him dismiss your reassurance. You pause with the electric beater in the bowl, poised but off, ducking your head to catch his gaze. Once he looks at you, you continue earnestly, "You told her the truth, Eddie. I'm not mad at you for telling her the truth. You did nothing wrong."

Eddie quirks a half-hearted smile at you, though he does look relieved. Satisfied, you start the beater, and he talks a little louder over the whir. "She made all that up about you in her head because, well." He looks away, and you keep your gaze on the chocolate mixture in the bowl, hoping it’ll be easier for him to talk without your eyes on him. It seems to be, because he continues, "I did try at first. To pretend nothing had changed. But Chris, she could always tell when something was off with me. The more I tried to tell her everything was fine, the more she'd push. The more she'd need me to do to try to convince her." He rubs at his knuckles, and you know he's missing his rings.

"She started, like..." When he pauses, you look up to see Eddie watching you. "Well, I dunno if you wanna hear this."

You take a slow breath through your nose to resist the rise of your anxiety. You want Eddie to feel free to share, just as he makes you feel. And part of you also just wants to know. "You can tell me," you assure him. "If you want to."

Eddie runs his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes dipping to his hands as he holds the bowl steady for you. "Couple months ago she started dropping all these hints, like, that she wanted me to buy her a ring. Came to a point that I started working overtime just to have more time away from home. Kind of delaying the inevitable, in a way, but... I dunno. I knew what I wanted to do long before I did it."

You glance up again to see him looking at you, face so soft, and it makes your throat go thick. "I just knew it was gonna be rough," he continues. "That she wasn't gonna make it easy. But then yesterday, when I heard you—"

He breaks off, and you turn off the beaters, resting them on the counter. Chocolate batter drips slowly back into the silver bowl, and you keep your eyes on it, trying not to let your lip wobble. Eddie's voice seems louder in the sudden silence. Hoarse, more labored when he continues. "When I heard you cry like that— God, y/n, I just... It just all clicked into place for me. Honestly, I didn't care anymore how ugly it was going to be." He looks at you mournfully, eyes glassy, and your green squeezes you until your sternum cracks.

You don’t hesitate to cup his cheek, wanting to convey the depth of your feeling.

Compassion for his situation; heartache for the way he needed to rend his flesh to get free.

Understanding for why it took so long; forgiveness for what he did to you yesterday.

And a tinge of guilt. Guilt that you’d been the one to ask him to stay.

"Eddie—" His name falls from your lips in a tender whisper, and when he lists into your touch, you hitch a tiny whimper.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl," he whispers. "I never want you to cry like that again."

Your growth reaches and strives for him, chest aching as your chin quivers. “I’m sorry, too,” you whisper.

Eddie’s brow wrinkles in confusion but crumples when you clarify in a tiny, trembling voice, “I’m sorry I told you to stay.”

The understanding dawns between his eyes, and it’s the blooming ache of a bruise between you. You both sit in the moment until the emotional whiplash of the last two days begins to overwhelm you, stinging at the corners of your eyes.

And Eddie can see it written on your face. He takes your wrist in his calloused fingers, pulling your hand gently from his face to press a brief, chaste kiss to your palm. The press of his lips soothes the mottling of your hurt, and as he holds your hand against his mouth, your thumb draws tenderly along his cheek.

The understanding you and Eddie share is the blooming ache of a bruise, but now, it can start to heal.

He released you gently, and when he speaks again, Eddie’s voice is hoarse and quiet, but the question he asks isn't what you expect. He motions to the batter between you, asking, "You want this in the pan?"

You chuckle, and it comes out a little watery. "I think I'll pour it," you say, smiling at the wry twist to his plush lips. "No offense."

“Wow.” Eddie throws up his calloused hands and huffs disbelievingly through his nose, but you know he’s not really offended. You pour as he scrapes down the leftover batter with the spatula per your instruction, and he opens the door to the oven for you so you can push the pan in carefully. As it snaps shut, the sound seems uncannily like the final punctuation at the end of something. Your clarity has been gained; all questions have been answered. The task has been completed. As you stare through the glass window to the baking pan beyond, the silence lingers between you, beckoning the question. What now?

You break it a bit lamely. "Thanks for helping with the cake," you say.

"Yeah, sure," Eddie replies, scratching the back of his loosely-tied curls. You wonder if this is it— if he'll leave now. You're chewing on your lip, eyes darting to him and away again as he does the same.

And then his stomach growls loudly.

"Shit," Eddie deadpans, and when you giggle, he husky a goofy chuckle back. As your humor subsides, it segues into a very clear choice. Eddie can leave and go on with his night, have dinner on his own.

Or…

As the offer occurs to you, you suddenly feel shy; self-consciousness squirms within at the thought of being rejected. Still, you glance at Eddie hopefully. "You wanna order some food?"

"Yeah." The word escapes in an immediate woosh, and Eddie’s crooked grin is unreasonably charming. "Honestly, I could eat that whole goddamn cake right now. Just, like, raw."

You hazard a guess. "You like Chinese?"

Eddie’s grin transforms to a slow, spreading smile, fond as it dimples his cheek. You flush under his gaze, but it's not uncomfortable. It's nice. "I love Chinese," he says quietly, and you wonder what has made this moment what it seems to be for him. Before you can wonder too long, Eddie breaks it. "Just none of that healthy shit.” He eyes you shrewdly as if suspicious. “I want all the MSG."

You snort, glancing up from your phone where you’ve started to Google the restaurants nearby. "You can have whatever you want, Ed," you throw over your shoulder. Your wings flutter pleasantly as he beams that goofy smile you’re so fond of, crinkling the corners of his eyes. What a dork, you think, and there’s nothing but affection in the roll of your eyes.

–

Eddie is, apparently, pickier about his Chinese food preferences than he initially let on. He adamantly insists on Chinese donuts, and the first three restaurants you find don’t have them. The timer for the cake ends up beeping before you’ve even placed your order, but you can’t be too exasperated. How could you resist that pout of his? Full lips pink and pooched, brown eyes so wide and warm and shiny as he tips his head and leans in, coming eye-level with you as his loose curls brush your shoulder. It’s downright criminal, is the thing.

Eddie beats you to the oven, pulling on Penny’s frilly oven mitts as you concede and call in your order. You’re only half-listening to the tinny voice on the other end of the phone, watching Eddie carry the hot pan over to the stove. He sets it down with caution before spinning to you with an air of triumph. You complete the order and head over, standing beside him to peer down at your cake. It smells wonderfully of rich chocolate that’s still succulently moist, wafting damp steam that kisses your cheeks. And as you both hover over it, heads close together, it hits you suddenly how domestic this feels— just you and Eddie, alone in the kitchen, admiring the fruits of your labor.

Your green quivers, yearning. Your wings flutter almost wildly, almost overwhelmingly so. You speak to distract yourself from the feeling welling up from the bottom of you.

"So, um... you wanna watch something? I have Netflix."

Eddie quirks a mischievous brow, and you flush, smacking his stomach with your arm. It makes him beam instantly. "D'you have HBO?" he asks, and your brow crinkles.

"No," you say, and you swear he lights up brighter than the sun.

"Oh," he chuckles out the word, eyes nearly crinkled shut with joy. "You're in for a treat."

You get him set up with the remote so he can log in to his account on Penny’s television and ask if he wants a drink. You fill glasses, placing them on the coffee table as the screen prompts Eddie to choose a profile: a big E for Eddie, a big C for Chrissy. You brace for the blow, for the sting, but it doesn’t come.

Eddie clicks into his profile, leaving Chrissy’s behind, and you don’t feel a thing.

Still, when you sit next to him on the couch, you leave a healthy gap between you, a few inches to avoid presumption. Eddie doesn’t close the gap, but he doesn’t seem bothered, either. His legs are spread comfortably as he navigates the menu, and his eyes don’t leave the screen as you ask, “So, what’s this treat called?”

“The Last of Us.” His broad hands dance with that familiar frenetic energy as he motions while he explains. “It’s based on a video game from 2013, but you don’t need to play the game to get it. Basically, the premise is that a fungus infects people and turns them into zombies. Well, not really zombies because they're not actually dead, just mind-controlled. But it’s close enough. It’s a post-apocalyptic setting; lots of nature overtaking the land, so the landscape shots are beautiful. And the reason for the outbreak isn’t as bogus as zombie shows usually are. It feels like it could actually happen, which I really like.”

You chuckle, tickled by his keenness, and Eddie flushes at the amusement in your expression, smiling bashfully.

Subtly, you nudge in closer, shrinking the inches minutely. You don’t need to feign enthusiasm. “It sounds good. Let's do it.”

Eddie seems pleased. “Cool.” He leans back before popping up straight again almost immediately. “Uh, just, fair warning, ‘cause I know you don’t like scary stuff. There are no real jumpscares in this, but some of it is kind of creepy.”

Despite the unease you would typically feel about that, you find yourself genuinely saying, “I think I’ll be okay. If it gets too creepy, I’ll let you know.”

Eddie’s free hand twitches in his lap like he wants to touch you, but he settles for a smile instead before pressing play.

Your food arrives a third of the way through the first episode. You'd been riveted and are now dismayed by the knock on the door despite the hunger gnawing at your stomach. You tap Eddie’s arm urgently, drawing his gaze. “Pause it!” You exclaim, clambering off the couch, intent on making the exchange as quickly as possible to return to the action. When the noise of chaos suddenly cuts as Eddie obliges you, it brings a sigh of relief.

Despite how engaging the show is, you find yourself looking at Eddie as he slurps his lo mein noodles, brown eyes wide. “Look, see how it throws itself around?” He talks through a mouthful, indicating the infected chasing Joel and his daughter. “That’s ‘cause when the fungus takes over a person’s brain, it isn’t trying to be careful with the body anymore.” He shakes his head in awe. “Fuckin’ metal.”

You suppose it’s kind of gross, the way he’s talking with his mouth full, but the expression on his face is so boyishly charming that you can’t bring yourself to care. Between Eddie’s eagerness and your shock and dismay at the episode’s ending, you're hooked instantly. "Can we watch the next one?” You ask eagerly, not missing the brief smug twitch of his mouth, the one that means, ‘knew you’d like it.’

"Sure," Eddie replies, sounding casual. But when he brushes your hair back from your shoulder, lips twisting as if he's trying to contain the depth of his happiness, you can see it leaking through his bright eyes.

As episode two eases into episode three and you begin to edge into binge-watching territory without complaint, you find yourself drifting closer to Eddie with tiny shifts of your body. First, your knees turn inward, then your shoulders tilt. Then you’re sinking back into the cushions on an angle, all the while seeking Eddie's light, half-subconscious and half-aware, though the aware part of you does nothing to stop it. And he's doing the same thing: spreading his legs, leaning back against the cushions, taking up space as he edges toward the center of the couch. Eddie inches ever closer until you finally feel his coveralls brush your hip and the heat of his armpit against your shoulder when he throws his arm around the back.

When Frank climbs out of the hole in the ground and is greeted with Bill’s shotgun, your knee bumps against Eddie's thigh, and you keep it there. When Bill takes over for Frank at the piano, Eddie shifts until his side is pressing lightly to yours. And as Bill and Frank fall into bed together, you look at Eddie and feel your moth wings flutter, that rushing giddiness, that nervous anticipation like this is a first date. Because, for you, there's just something about eating in and watching television cuddled up on the couch, just you and a special person.

There always has been.

As episode three progresses through the years of the characters' lives, you press even closer to Eddie, relaxing as you feel him lean into you in kind. You relish the novelty of what you feel: the peace of being alone, the shared experience of doing something mundane with him, the emotional journey this television show is taking you on together. You focus on the physical sensations, too: the rise and fall of his warm chest, the tickle of his curls against your temple when he tugs you in with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, and your head falls to the crook of his neck. You even relish his scent, spicy and smoky but acridly tangy like motor oil and body odor, reminding you of the sweat and labor of his day. But you don't care. In fact, you tuck your nose against the gray of his tank, inhaling slow and steady as you let your eyes slip closed for just a moment, breathing in as much smoke as you can bear. You feel relaxed— not quite at the edge of sleepiness, but so utterly, wonderfully content.

When Eddie pulls your legs onto his lap, the arm wrapped around you tightening around your shoulders, you lift your head and smile up at him. But the hesitant concern on his face is unexpected. Your sleepy contentment fades at his expression. "What is it, Ed?"

You reach tender fingertips to smooth the crease between his brow, and his face softens when you do. "This episode... it gets sad," he murmurs, brown eyes darting between yours to read your reaction. "Are you sure you wanna finish it right now? We can stop."

You glance at the men on your sister's television screen, how the sun shines behind them as they feast on red, succulent strawberries— the spoils of the months Frank spent tending the plants in secret. You look back at the man who has you wrapped up in his tender embrace, cradling you securely. "It's okay," you say, lips curving in a sweet smile. "I wanna finish it."

Eddie wasn't kidding.

Your breath stutters in your chest, chin trembling as you try to hold back your tears. You're tired of crying— you're cried out, really, from these last two days— but watching this might leave you no choice. Eddie's thumb rubs a soothing pattern along your arm, plush lips shushing against your temple as you crowd close to his side for comfort. You curl your knees up, almost in his lap as you clutch at his free hand. Sadness weighs in your chest, but you can't look away. The pain is just too bittersweet, and Eddie's closeness is just too precious.

The third episode is nearly over when the door creaks open, drawing your heavy eyes. Penny freezes in the doorway, and you see yourself suddenly through her eyes: the room dark save for the glow of the television, empty Chinese food containers scattered messily on her coffee table, and her baby sister tangled up with an unfamiliar man on the couch, eyes big and glossy.

You tense slightly, pinned by her wide-eyed stare, but you don’t move away from Eddie. "Hey," you greet her cautiously.

"Hey." Penny matches your inflection before her eyes flick over Eddie, a brow quirking as her eyes scan him— heavily inked arm thrown over your shoulders, your legs in his lap, his earrings glinting, his hair long and dishevelled. You’re at the edge of offense when she says, not quite critically, “Dirty coveralls on my couch?”

Immediately, Eddie jerks, jostling you as he moves your legs off him and makes to get up, stuttering an apology. “Shit, sorry—”

But Penny seems to be amused by his earnestness. “Nah, it's fine,” she says, and Eddie’s eyes dart between you and your sister as if he’s assessing whether to take her at her word. You roll your eyes toward her, not missing the smirk she tosses you before pulling off her coat and hanging it on the rack. You just know she’d taken pleasure from making Eddie jump.

You gently guide Eddie back to sitting, and almost reluctantly, he resettles. When you put your legs back in his lap, he holds them there with a warm palm, touch tentative now with an audience. You blush with pleasure as his thumb traces lightly, so lightly, over your calf. You distract yourself by calling to Penny, "How was the award ceremony?"

"It was good," she replies, closer than you thought she’d be as she passes by the back of the couch, heading toward her bedroom. Her tone is casual but edged with a sense of knowing implication that makes you want to squirm. You whip back around to face the television, noting that the episode has since finished. Eddie pauses it before the next one can start.

Penny’s arrival hasn’t quite put you on edge, but it has changed the atmosphere in the condo. You and Eddie are no longer alone, no longer quite as peaceful as before. And it seems Penny's arrival has shaken Eddie out of that place, too, because he says, “It's getting late.”

You glance at him to see his expression is largely neutral. You, on the other hand, can’t fully conceal your disappointment at the significance of his observation— that it’s time for him to go. You nod, hoping it doesn’t appear as reluctant as you feel.

Eddie is hesitant, quiet as he watches you, and you think maybe that neutral expression isn’t neutral at all. Maybe it’s just carefully guarding against his own disappointment. It could be just your hope talking, and you’re starting to think so, but then Eddie is leaning a little closer, and his lips are brushing your temple, and he’s murmuring, “Do you want me to go?”

A low flutter. A rush of green. Your throat is dry, and you swallow to wet it. “No,” you whisper back. “Do you want to go?”

You peek up at him, and light glows in honey brown. “No,” Eddie murmurs.

You take a slow breath. “Okay,” you say, somewhat louder, but voice still tiny. You bite your lip. “My bed is small,” you tell him. Negotiating. Mitigating expectations.

Eddie’s lips curl with a slight, fond smile. “That's okay.”

You feel your own smile spreading. You keep the exchange going. “You'll need to shower first.”

“So will you,” he counters, eyes alight with his tease. “I’m filthy, and you've been cuddling me all night.”

You feel heat rise, glowing in your cheeks. But it isn’t with embarrassment, and it isn’t with arousal either. “Yes, you are,” you say, sweet and tender. “And yes, I have.”

Eddie’s calloused fingers squeeze warm around your leg.

–

The bathroom is right across the hall from Penny’s office, which is now your bedroom. The heat of the water is steaming up the mirror, but you can’t see it because you’re already concealed behind the curtain, standing under the warm stream that beats against your back, wetting the ends of your hair. You’re listening to the drops hit the basin and bounce off your shower curtain, and you’re not doing anything else. Though you stepped under the spray several minutes ago, you haven’t touched your soap yet.

There are two doors that separate you from Eddie. He’s sitting on the floor in your bedroom, which you know because he’d clambered down cross-legged before you left the room. He’d chosen a spot on the hardwood, away from the area rug and the rumpled comforter of your twin bed. He’d told you he didn’t want to get any of your things dirty.

There are two doors that separate you from Eddie, but your green knows how close he is.

Now that you’ve had a taste of closeness, you feel his absence keenly. Your wings are fluttering, frantic to find him. The heated spray is prickling the backs of your arms, running down your legs, reminding you of your nakedness. Reminding you that you’re currently bare and the man you yearn for is just a dozen steps away.

You and Penny never lock the bathroom door at home; if it’s closed, you both know not to enter. Tonight is no different, making what you’re considering an actual possibility. But Penny is home now, and fearing what she might think is the source of your indecision. Still, your green is reaching, trembling, striving for Eddie, and your sister already saw you cuddling with him on the couch.

You just want to be close.

You decide that if Eddie can hear you through two doors and over the stream of the shower, great, and if not, so be it. You call his name.

“Eddie?”

A pause yields nothing but the steady thrum of water on the curtain, and then you try one final time, projecting your voice a little louder. “Eddie?”

After a long moment, you hear a creak on the carpet just outside the bathroom and then his hoarse smoke voice, a little tentative and muffled through wood. “Yeah?”

Nervousness surges, but you pluck up your courage, pushing through the pause. Your teeth scrape your bottom lip before you release it, but your voice still comes out softer and higher than you’d like. “...Do you wanna come in?”

Your heart is thumping in your chest, eyes darting as you concentrate on listening. There’s no reply, but you hear the door creak open and close again. Your heart thumps harder at the sound of rustling fabric, and you know it’s Eddie’s clothing dropping to the floor; the curtain shifts, and you step aside, making room in preparation for him. Wings flutter and flap, and green tendrils reach until you see that face— white framed with black, tinged now with pink— peek tentatively beyond the curtain.

Eddie’s eyes wander over your naked form only briefly before returning to your face. “Hi.”

Your mouth curls. “Hi,” you echo him, pinching the curtain back so he can step in. He does so quickly so as not to let the water out, and the curtain pulls from between your fingers when he tugs it back into place, but you don’t notice because you’re just looking at him.

The pale quartz of Eddie’s body is inches from yours where he stands under the spray, blocking it from reaching you. The water is already washing the grime away and soaking his hair, smoothing curls nearly straight. You follow the path of the water down the ink of his chest and arms to where it drips over ruddy knuckles and from calloused fingertips; you follow other trails down his soft stomach, over the plane of his hip, down the sparse hair on his legs and to his pink toes.

Eddie’s toes are a revelation. You’ve never noticed his toes before.

You look up again into honey brown and sway closer to touch the wet hair now flattened to his collarbone. Eddie reaches for you when you reach for him, and his calloused fingers brush your waist. And slowly, by degrees, you close the gap until Eddie’s warm front is pressed to yours.

Everything is pliant and slick, even the heat of his soft length where it presses between your bodies. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, and his wrap around your waist; you embrace each other in the water, in the haze of steam and humidity. You sigh against him when he tangles his fingers in your wet hair, and you turn your head to press the side of your face to his chest. Eddie’s heartbeat is steady under your ear, and his arms are firm around you; he’s so solid within your grasp, so wonderfully and unbelievably here.

You only pull back when water splashes you in the face; he smiles warmly when you blink and releases you to wipe it away.

"C'mere," you say then. "I'll wash you."

You take his arms, and he lets you switch your positions, so he's out of the spray. "Am I gonna smell like you?" He murmurs, not looking all that upset about it.

"Yup." You grin, reaching around him to indicate the shampoo bottle on the shelf. "Shampoo is here."

Eddie dispenses a pump while you squirt body wash into your hands; he lathers up his hair, giving you a chance to run your hands over his pecs and under his arms, washing out the hair there. You take more body wash and clean him gently, soft palms trailing over warm wet skin, washing away the grime and sweat as the dirt follows suds down the drain. You clean all of him— the ink on his arms, his pale sides, his hips, his groin, his legs. Even the backs of his knees, which you bend to reach.

This isn’t the first time you’ve touched Eddie. You’ve touched probably ninety percent of his body in the five months you’ve spent together in your arrangement. But this time, it isn't sexual; it's just intimate. You know it, and he knows it. In fact, when you draw closer to reach around and start on his back, and between you, you feel him semi-hard and hot against your belly, he even looks sheepish. "Sorry," he mutters, but you reassure him quickly.

"It's okay," you murmur, gazing up into his face. "Let me get your back."

You swap places so that he's under the stream facing away from you, and you gather the length of his hair, draping it over his shoulder. You wash the rest of him, running your hands reverently over the muscles of his shoulders, down the slope of his back to the dimples at the base of his spine, and then over his butt. His hips twitch at the tickle of your touch, and you both chuckle. “Okay,” you say, and he turns around to face you again, cupping your neck with a thankful hand.

“Your turn,” he says, and you pass him the body wash. He washes you carefully, calloused hands smoothing over your wet skin. Never lingering for too long; still not sexual, but not clinical, either. Sensual and tender, like he wants to take care of you. You sigh as you wash your hair, enjoying every touch as Eddie’s hands smooth over your shoulders and arms, your breasts and your soft stomach, the wideness of your hips, and the pliant fat of your thighs. He washes your legs, and you lean against him with a hand on his shoulder to lift your feet at his insistence. He nudges your arm so you’ll turn, and you oblige him, letting him wash your back with just as much care as you wash your face.

Finally, the water begins to run lukewarm, and you both rinse off and finish up quickly. You grab Eddie a towel from the nearby rack, passing it over before gathering one to wrap around your body. The shower curtain rings clatter against the bar as you open it and step out, eyes catching on the rumple of Eddie’s soiled clothing on the floor and the plaid red of his boxers peeking from the pile. You purse your lips as you realize he has nothing to change into.

You turn to see him toweling off his inked arms haphazardly. “So, uh—” Eddie glances at you from beneath the damp tangle of his long bangs, and the sight of those warm amber eyes makes you flutter. “I just realized you don’t have any clean clothes,” you say.

Eddie’s brows shoot up, and he nods slowly. “Right,” he says, mouth tightening to a wryly amused line. “Well, shit.”

You giggle at his baldness, and his grin spreads almost involuntarily as he sees your mirth. “I’ll see if Pen has any of Charlie’s you can borrow,” you offer, slipping out the door and closing it behind you, hiking your towel a little more securely around your body as you knock softly on your sister’s bedroom door.

It cracks enough for her to poke her head out, expression expectant. “Pen,” you say, coaxing like only siblings can be, “do you happen to have any of Charlie's clothes that Eddie can borrow? Like some shorts and a t-shirt, or some sweatpants?” After a second, you resist a blush and tack on, “...or some boxers?”

She quirks a brow. “Isn't this the guy you were hysterically crying over yesterday?”

You huff. “It's different now,” you grumble, and she just shakes her head fondly.

"Lemme look." She comes back with a white t-shirt breasted with the firehouse emblem and a pair of comfy sweatpants. “No boxers, sorry,” she tells you. You nod and hold up her offerings, noting that both will be far too big for Eddie’s lanky frame. He’s not a small guy; it’s just that Charlie is a big guy. Still, beggars can’t be choosers.

“Thanks,” you say, turning from the door.

Penny stops you before you can get too far, and you whip around at the salaciousness in her voice. “Wrap it before you tap it,” she says with a smirk.

You blush furiously. “Pen!” you hiss, “It's not— We’re just—” You huff, stumbling in your embarrassment. “We're just gonna sleep,” you finally get out.

“Uh-huh,” she says as if she doesn’t believe you, but her eyes are soft when she sing-songs, “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Night.” You grumble, bidding a hasty retreat back to the bathroom. You slip back through the door with your procurements to find Eddie with the towel now slung around his waist. You hold out your offering, and as he takes it from you, you realize you have another problem. Regretfully, you tell him, “I don't have a spare toothbrush.”

“It's okay,” Eddie assures you, dropping the bundle of clothing onto the counter. “I can use my finger.”

You squirm a little with self-consciousness, unsure whether he’ll find what you’re about to offer strange. “...You can borrow mine,” you finally say.

He looks at you, surprised. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you say. “It’s fine. I don't care.”

And where you thought maybe Eddie wouldn’t want to use your toothbrush, you find instead that as you pass it to him, he looks at it for a moment, smiling softly. Subtle, as if he’s smiling to himself.

There's intimacy in this, too: watching Eddie use your toothbrush and rinse it off carefully before passing it back to you. You've had his dick in your mouth, and you've swallowed his cum, but somehow this— standing at the sink, brushing your teeth with the same brush he just used while Eddie drops the towel and pulls on Charlie's too-big clothes, toweling off his hair by ruffling it like one would dry off a dog— feels more intimate than anything you’ve done before.

You dart across the hallway in your towel, retrieving a pair of plain cotton underwear and a loose t-shirt from the folded pile of clothes in your closet. You hear Eddie enter behind you, but you don’t hesitate to remove your towel and hang it from the closet doorknob, pulling on your panties and shirt unhurriedly. You tie up your damp hair with a silk scrunchie, watching Eddie pile his soiled clothing into a bare corner of your room to be dealt with later. Together, wordlessly, you straighten your sheets and comforter, tidying your tiny bed in the warm, subtle lamplight of your bedroom. It casts shadows over Eddie’s face, deepening the sharpness of his jaw and the definition of his brow. When he glances up, noticing you watching him from the other side of the mattress, the amber of his eyes stirs your green and feels like home.

Finally, it’s time for bed.

You click out the lamp, and in the darkness, lit by cool moonbeams illuminating your headboard's contours, you and your light maneuver onto the tiny bed. There’s nothing quite like the slide of your fresh, clean limbs against the smooth sheets, the way it contrasts with the warmth of Eddie’s body, the way your damp hair kisses each others’ necks as you nuzzle together, shifting until you’re both comfortable. It takes a little while to find a position that satisfies you both, and with some humor, you say, “Told you it was cramped.”

You can’t really see him in the darkness, but you can hear when Eddie chuckles, and you can taste his minty breath when it puffs spicy against your lips. His voice is a rumble you feel more than hear. "You weren't kidding," he murmurs. "But I don't mind."

Eddie can’t see the way your face softens, but it does. "Me neither," you whisper.

You feel his arm shift, and your eyes flutter closed as you feel the tiniest brush against your forehead— a seeking fingertip. His touch is featherlight as he moves hair off your forehead and then drags that same hand back to lightly pinch the shell of your ear, dragging those calloused fingers down to the lobe. "Goodnight, sweet girl."

You seek him blindly too, searching with your face until your lips are skimming his cheek. Now oriented, you move your head down to press a soft, tender kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. And when you feel him melt into the bed, muscles relaxing against you, your growth— that yearning, quivering green— finally settles into contentment. "Goodnight, Eddie."

–

When the morning light chases away the chill of twilight, you wake first. The first thing you notice, before you’ve even opened your eyes, is the uncomfortable dampness of your body. You're sweating with the heat trapped under the covers, your front overly warm where it's pressed along Eddie's, belly to collarbone. But you can't be bothered to move. You don't want to disturb him.

When you open your eyes, it’s to a wholly charming sight: Eddie’s nose is whistling slightly as he breathes, his mouth is half-open, and he's drooling on your pillow. Your soft expression transforms when you notice, lips twisting into a delighted grin. He's gonna be so embarrassed that he drooled all over my bed. After a moment of amusement, you move your arm carefully, dipping your hand beneath the hem of his shirt to draw your fingers slowly, so slowly up his back. You feel him sigh and nuzzle closer to you, a tiny sleepy grunt escaping from his lips as he closes them. Your affection for him rushes so strongly through you that you're left almost dizzy.

The room is lit with the pale light of early morning, and you stare at the freckle underneath Eddie’s eye, the long eyelashes dusting his cheek. He looks so peaceful, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes softened by sleep. You nestle your face closer until you can feel each exhale from his nose tickle your upper lip, and you close your eyes, basking in his nearness.

You don’t know how long you lay that way, tangled with Eddie, unable to tell where he ends, and you begin. Your lips are so close they almost touch when he shifts his face just slightly, and then they do— a tiny whisper of plush lips on yours, the slightest brush that has your moths fluttering to life. It almost seems incidental until you feel the arm slung around your waist tighten, bringing you closer. And Eddie might almost think you're still asleep if it wasn't for the fingers trailing absent patterns along his back.

Now that you know he’s awake, you return his kiss, pressing your lips to his with your eyes still closed. And in the light of morning that shines pink against your eyelids, before the world has fully awakened, the only sound that exists is the tiny smack of the kiss you give Eddie and the woosh of his contented sigh, a sigh you breathe in like gentle smoke.

When you move your head back, blinking your eyes open again to look into Eddie's face, the sight that greets you is new but so wholly, wonderfully welcome.

Eddie's dark curls are splayed across your pillow, plush lips deep pink and puffy, eyes heavy with sleep but the color so deep and rich it nearly steals your breath.

Nine months ago, Eddie Munson was a stranger, sticking out like a dark mark in the pastel of the apartment you shared with your boyfriend Steve. He was foreign, unfamiliar; you didn't know him.

Now, he smiles, and you know his gentleness; you know the light in his brown eyes. He who teased out the growth, who caressed the leaves between his calloused fingers, who shone tenderly upon it until it blossomed from the center of you. You're bearing fruit, the words of your soul, and you use them to nourish you both.

When you break the silence, you don't exchange platitudes of good morning or question how he'd slept. Instead, you say, "I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Eddie’s eyes search yours quietly until he husks a quiet question. "Not even Steve?"

You don’t need to think about your answer. "No," you whisper. "Steve is a good man, but you see all of me in a way he never did."

You watch Eddie’s throat bob in a thick swallow. "I think..." he whispers, wide-eyed and tentative. Like it’s a revelation; like it’s never happened before. "I think you see all of me, too."

"I do." You brush the curls from his face, fingers like reverence incarnate. "I'm in love with you, Eddie."

And to see it— this man, who guards himself with ink and leather and chains— to see how you feed him with your words, how he swallows them up. To see how his expression becomes so vulnerable, pink on black and white; how he drops his armor and the gentleness of his eyes blooms over his whole face. You watch it, and you know it's something rare to behold. And then he speaks, plush lips spilling words that water your growth like rain.

"I love you, sweet girl. I love you."

You’re blooming. You’re thriving. You’re rushing with the force of your joy until it stings the corners of your eyes. Eddie touches your face, wiping away the happy rain that has fallen and kissed your cheek. "Does this mean you're mine?" He asks, hushed and quiet, as if he’s afraid to hope for the answer.

"Yes," you reply, fluttering toward the light that shines in beautiful brown eyes. "I'm yours, Eddie."

A deep breath, a pinch of your brow. More than you ever thought you could ask for, but you do. You do. "And are you mine?"

Eddie’s answer is immediate, husked like rich and heady smoke as he strokes your hair. "As long as you want me, sweetheart."

You want to say, Forever, Eddie.

So you do.

"Forever, Eddie. I'll want you forever."

Eddie kisses your lips, and the taste of his mouth is sweet, sweet like ripe red strawberries, sweet with the promise of a thousand more kisses just like it.

"Then you'll have me, y/n. You'll have me forever."

#blueywrites #tkym #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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daddy-dins-girl · 6 months

Text

Playdate - Chapter Two

Playdate, back by popular demand babyyyyy! 😘😘😘. Thank you, my thirsty little mutuals for your love and support <3 Now let's go straight back to hell, shall we?

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Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 7k

Chapter Summary: Three weeks after your initial meeting with Dave York you meet again. This time however, without your husband (at his own insistence). Marcus wants you to feel free and unencumbered by his presence to explore your wants, needs and fantasies with Dave and you reluctantly agree to it - just this once.

Notes: OK Marcus does take a bit of a back seat in this chapter but not to worry, he'll be back full force in the next!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Cuckolding. Wife sharing. Dave York's mouth needs its own warning (and to be washed out with soap). Dirty Talk. Degradation. Daddy Kink. Praise Kink. Soft!Dave York (enjoy it while it lasts, it won't be long). Dom!Dave York. Oral sex (m and f receiving). Rough oral sex. Biting (just one lil bite). Frottage. Dave is spitting in your mouth again because it's Dave and that's his M.O.. Spanking (just a couple swats). Mention/brief discussion of anal sex. Breathplay. Unprotected P in V sex. Naked female/clothed male. Cockwarming. 'Cozy Boyfriend Vibes' Marcus also gets a warning because he'll make your heart grow three sizes. If I missed anything lmk!

Nervous anticipation thrums through your veins as Saturday evening is finally upon you. Marcus had texted Dave about a week ago regarding another “session” for the three of you and tonight was the settled upon date you’d all agreed on. It’s been three weeks since you last saw - and first met - Dave York. Your husband's business colleague turned… well, you weren’t sure what to call him now. Threesome partner, sort of? The man who, regardless of anything else, was surely responsible for the dramatic upturn yours and Marcus’ sex life had taken the last three weeks, that’s for certain. Ever since your single time with Dave, you and Marcus have been insatiable for each other. Not that you ever had much of a problem in that department to begin with, but recently you’ve dialed it up to eleven, not being able to keep off of each other.

You fucked in the shower, on the couch, the kitchen floor, and even one memorable Sunday morning with you sitting on top of the lid of the washing machine while it was running with Marcus standing between your legs drilling into you as your whole lower half shook and vibrated to the unrelenting rhythm of the spin cycle.

Still, as much as Marcus was keeping you satisfied (and he was) the thought of being with Dave again thrilled you. He was such a polar opposite to Marcus, whom you absolutely loved and adored, and you’re not saying that different is better. Different is just… different. Different excites you and opens up both yours and Marcus’ world to things that weren’t in it before and really, that was the goal of this whole thing to begin with.

You were so nervous at first while being with Dave with Marcus watching. As much as it excited you, you couldn’t help the little gnawing feeling in your gut that you could be hurting Marcus somehow or making him feel inadequate. He’d assured you enough that night that that wasn’t the case, but it was always playing at the back of your mind. The absolute last thing you want is to cause any kind of rift between you and Marcus. So when he had suggested a week later that you try it again you made sure to have several long discussions about it first to ensure that he really wanted this as much as you did because if he didn’t, you would be fine with cutting the whole thing off. Finally after a week of discussions you both agreed you wanted to involve Dave again and Marcus had started up a group text conversation between the three of you. So far it had just been Marcus and Dave texting back and forth a couple times, deciding on a date and that was it. You were nervous about sending any messages to Dave yourself, at least for now, so you let everything go through Marcus, though you were glad he tried to include you by inviting you to the conversation.

Tonight would be different though. So different from last time and as if you weren’t already nervous, now your anxiety is ten-fold after what Marcus had recently suggested to you. He told you that he thinks you should have one night just with Dave by yourselves. He could tell how into it you were last time but he felt that you were constantly holding back and feeling nervous about how he was feeling and he didn’t want that. He wanted you to be free to explore what you wanted to explore and then next time Marcus would be back in the mix and hopefully not only learn first hand what you liked, but get some tips and tricks from Dave along the way. You argued a bit with Marcus at first, telling him that wasn’t the deal and you wanted him part of it but he explained his side and assured you he would be okay with it and told you to take a couple days and really think it over and so this afternoon you had finally made your decision and decided to take him up on it. Just this once, you had insisted.

He hadn’t even told Dave about it yet because he wasn’t sure if you were going to agree to it or not until a couple of hours ago and now he was worried Dave might not even show up if Marcus changed the rules on him last minute so he decided to talk to Dave when he came over. If he wasn’t okay with it, then they’d go back to the original plan and Marcus would stay.

You drain your second glass of wine as your fingernails tap nervously on the counter until finally the doorbell rings and you and Marcus both turn to each other and share a glance.

“Right on time” Marcus shrugs, pushing back from his chair and heading to the front door. You decide to head straight upstairs and let them talk, because you don’t want to hear the conversation if it turns bad and Dave has no interest in you if Marcus isn’t directly benefiting from it, since that was the original arrangement.

A couple of minutes tick by and you sit nervously at the end of the bed until finally you hear footsteps approach and the door swings open, revealing both Marcus and Dave. You assume this means Marcus is staying and you’re not sure how to feel about it. Part of you is glad, you want him here, he makes you feel safe and comfortable (whereas Dave makes you feel literally the exact opposite) but part of you wonders how interested Dave really is in you and if this is all just a fun game to him that doesn’t really get him off unless he’s got Marcus here to cuckold.

“Honey I told him what we talked about… he’s okay with it” Marcus explains as he crosses the room to you and your shoulders settle as a breath escapes your lips. Suddenly you’re even more nervous then you thought you’d be.

“Sure you don’t wanna stay Pike? I’m having fun watching her squirm already” Dave muses, winking at you and you feel your cheeks flush. Maybe Marcus should stay.

“Hey,” Marcus gets your attention and he’s staring at you with a soft smile to calm your nerves. “I love you, ok? I’ll be down the street at the bar, gonna catch the game. Just… promise me you’ll have a good time” he says and you nod your head before you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. You hold on, continuing to kiss him because you need him to know before he leaves how much you love him, appreciate him, and how part of you doesn’t want him to go.

Eventually he slows your kisses down and lets out a little laugh as he pulls back. “Have fun, I want you to” he says before he leans in and places a kiss to your forehead and then turns to walk out the door, closing it behind him and sealing you and Dave inside alone.

You stand next to the bed and wring your hands together in nervous anticipation as Dave slinks forward, sly grin on his lips.

“Hey Baby” he greets casually as he steps in front of you, places his hands on your waist and gives you a good look up and down. You feel much less exposed this time at least. You’re wearing a knee length silk robe that’s tied around your waist, protecting some of your modesty.

Which was all for nothing, apparently, because seconds later before he even utters another word or allows you to greet him back, his one hand comes up and tugs one end of the sash holding your robe closed and it falls right open, revealing your skimpy little black laced bra and matching panties.

“H-Hi” you stammer out, arms instinctively coming up to wrap around yourself.

“Don’t” Dave says, surprisingly softly, his gaze locked on to your chest. You drop your hands to your side, still nervous as hell but it's an exciting kind of nervous as Dave brings a single finger up to trace the top edge of your bra over your left breast.

“Pretty” he murmurs before he gently pushes the robe from your shoulders and it pools on the floor at your feet. His hands go back to your waist and he leans down and captures your lips. The kiss is heated as he reacquaints himself with your mouth, your tongue, exploring every inch like he needs to commit it to memory and your body leans into his instinctively, your hands coming up to wrap around his neck as he moans into your mouth.

Whatever you were expecting tonight, it wasn’t this. He’s being… soft. His hands lightly smooth up and down your sides and across your back and before long his mouth leaves yours to kiss down your jaw and to your throat. You tilt your head to give him better access and whimper when he hits a particular spot on your throat and sucks before laving over it with his tongue and then moving on to kiss and lick and nip at every inch of exposed flesh until you’re practically trembling in his arms. Your hands clutch the short hairs at the back of his head as he anchors you in place, your knees feeling weak already as his mouth transcends a little lower to your collarbone and then the tops of your breasts.

“Ohhhh” you gasp softly when he mouths at your left nipple over top of the lace garment and his hand comes up to lightly pinch at the other and then he switches sides and repeats. “Fuck”

It feels strangely intimate, what’s happening right now. It's reminiscent of how you are with Marcus and that wasn’t supposed to be the point for being with Dave. You’re finding it really tough to complain, however, when his mouth is making every coherent thought escape your brain entirely. Finally he unclasps your bra and lets it fall to the floor and then he spends minutes on your breasts, paying each one equal attention with his mouth or his hands and all you can do is push your hands through his hair and whimper and moan with your head occasionally lolling backwards when it gets to be too much effort to hold it upright.

Dave is silent, which is odd enough in and of itself. The only sounds from his mouth are the soft licks and kisses and hums as he devours your tits and it's night and day to the Dave that was here a few weeks ago who was calling you names and barking orders at you.

Finally he begins descending lower still, trailing kisses down the middle of your stomach and lowering himself to his knees as he goes. Your hands go to hold onto his shoulders just as his mouth reaches the waistband of your panties and he looks up at you; those soft brown eyes that are jarringly familiar and yet so different from the man you are married to. Keeping his gaze locked on yours, his hands come to your hips and he slowly drags your panties down your legs until you’re left completely bare before him and your heart is hammering in your chest. The eye contact alone that he’s giving you is sending little ripples of pleasure down your spine and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Dave” his name leaves your lips in a whisper and suddenly his face is in your cunt. He spreads your lower lips with his fingers and his tongue licks a slow broad stripe straight up the center and your knees nearly buckle with the pleasure that shoots through you.

“Lay down” he instructs and you shuffle back the few inches to the side of the mattress and sit on the edge and lower yourself down on your back and Dave is back on you, lifting both your legs and draping one on either of his shoulders and his hands rest on your hips to hold you down as he’s kneeled on the floor in front of you.

“Oh fuck” you cry out when his mouth is back on you. His tongue circles your clit a few times until he sucks it into his mouth and your hips chase the pressure of his mouth, desperate for more. He releases your clit and then his tongue trails down the center again and begins prodding at your entrance with the tip of his wet muscle.

“Oh my god” you whine, hands flying down to clutch in his hair again and he moans loudly into you, sending little shockwaves through your pulsing cunt. One of his hands leaves your hip and his thumb comes down to put pressure on your clit, rubbing it in tight small circles while he continues fucking into you with his tongue and soon enough, you’re gone. You shoot up onto your elbows as you feel the dam burst and let out a choked sob as you cum hard and fast, hips bucking wildly into Dave’s face as he continues his assault, working you through it and not slowing down.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck” you chant until you literally can’t take it anymore and your hands go to his head in an attempt to push him away and thankfully he takes the hint and his thumb lifts from your throbbing clit and his tongue switches to long slow licks through your folds, lapping up the sticky residue of your release.

“Mmmmm” he hums into you, seemingly content on licking up every last drop from you before he starts planting little kisses all over your sex, your mound, your thighs and finally he pushes up from his knees and leans over you to trail kisses up body until he reaches your mouth and kisses you soundly, just once. Just long enough for you to get a taste of yourself on his tongue and then he releases you and rests his forehead against yours.

“Hi” he smirks - he fucking smirks - at you.

“Hi… fuck!” you breathe out and Dave huffs out a little laugh before he pushes himself back up to a standing position and holds a hand out for you. You take his offered hand and he helps you up until you’re back in the position from earlier and his hands go to your hips again.

“What was that for?” You ask, genuinely curious and Dave shrugs.

“I knew you’d be nervous without Pike here, figured I’d help settle the nerves first. Feel nice and loose now, don’t ya baby?” He grins, jostling your hips back and forth slightly and you let out a little laugh.

“And now that we’ve got the pleasantries out of the way,” he begins, that menacing tone from the first night you met him suddenly back and you try to ignore the pleasant little tingle it sends down your spine. His mouth reaches your ear and he gently pulls the lobe between his teeth before releasing it and finishing his thought with a whisper into your ear “you can show your Daddy just how much you missed him, hmmm?”

You pull your lip between your teeth again as a small groan escapes your lips. Dave is tonguing at your ear canal and sucking the lobe into his mouth and your eyes close as a little whimper escapes you.

“Answer me” he growls, his hands gripping tightly at your hips, yanking you forward a couple of inches so your pelvis presses into his and you feel the unmistakable press of his desire against your hip from underneath his clothes.

“Yes Daddy” you nod enthusiastically and let your hand snake down between your bodies to cup him over his pants. “I’ll be so good for you” you add and he groans.

“On your fucking knees baby” he orders, a little breathless and you instantly comply, dropping to your knees in front of him and pressing your face into his crotch to kiss his length over his pants and he hums in approval, bringing a hand down to run through your hair. You kiss over his shaft a few more times before your hands come up to his belt buckle and you stop, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Please can I have your cock in my mouth? Want it so bad” you tell him, putting on your best pout and his eyes close momentarily and he tosses his head back before finally refocusing on you.

“Yeah baby, take me out” he instructs and you waste no time opening his belt, yanking down the zipper and pulling his pants and boxers down to his thighs so his cock bobs out right in front of your face. You’re about to press forward before you stop yourself and settle back to sit on your heels, tilt your head up to Dave and open your mouth wide and wait.

“Oh fuck” Dave curses, eyes closing again and you have to fight back the grin that wants to emerge at how damn proud of yourself you are.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl” Dave growls before he grips your jaw tightly in his hand and angles his head down to spit into your mouth. You give him a coy smile when the saliva hits your tongue and then lean forward and wrap your mouth around his cock and suck.

“Oh fuck, that’s it baby” he praises you, hands gathering up your hair until he can hold it all back in one hand so he has a better view of you swallowing him down.

“You take my cock so fucking good baby girl” he continues and you hum around him, bobbing up and down and taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. He lets you go at your own pace for a good couple of minutes and then he begins pushing back with his hips until he’s fucking into your throat and you’re forced to just stay still and take what he gives you. He forces deeper and deeper with each thrust and every so often he’ll push all the way down your throat and hold you there until you gag and choke on him until he releases you and starts all over again.

“Goddamn fucking whore how you take this cock baby, hmmm? Fucking cockslut aren’t you?” He continues uttering pure filth and you simply hum affirmatively and nod your head into his groin as he continues to feed you his dick until your eyes water and your throat is raw.

Now this is the Dave York you remember. Your cunt clenches around nothing and you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs as he towers over you, degrading you and taking exactly what he wants.

“Come here” he grunts suddenly and grabs you under your arms and hauls you back to your feet, his leaking dick sliding out from your mouth as you're dragged away from it.

He kisses you harshly and his hands come down to grope your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hands and squeezing roughly before his grip loosens slightly into a massage instead and you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck, turn around” he orders. His hands leave your ass to grab your shoulders and turn you so you’re facing the side of the bed and he pushes you down so you’re bent over lying on your stomach on the mattress with your feet still planted on the floor behind you and your turn your head to look back and watch Dave sink to his knees.

Your body jolts on the bed when a sharp slap from Dave’s right hand lands on your ass and then he’s soothing over the surely red mark.

“Look at this perfect fucking ass” Dave growls, both hands grabbing at your cheeks and spreading them before he lets go and swats at the left cheek and his mouth comes down to gently bite at the meat of your right.

“Oh!” you can’t help but moan, hips rocking into the edge of the mattress.

Dave gets back up again but bends over your body so his cock is at your ass and his mouth at your ear. “God I want to fuck this tight little asshole so bad” he confesses and drags his dick between your cheeks for emphasis.

“Oh fuck” you whimper and you don’t know if it’s fear or excitement. Maybe both. “Dave I…” you trail off. You’re not ready for that, in every possible way.

“I know baby” he hums into your ear. “Don’t worry I won’t” he promises and you release the breath you’d been holding, your muscles instantly relaxing from underneath him.

“I think… m-maybe I might want to, some time…” you stammer helplessly. You’re definitely interested, but you want to be prepared first.

“I know baby” Dave soothes, one hand sliding between you and the bed to massage a breast in his hand and the other goes around your front between your legs and begins to play with your clit and you begin whimpering again. “Daddy will buy you a toy next time, hmm? We’ll work on getting you ready until one day you’ll be begging me to fuck your tight little hole hmm?”

“Oh fuck, yes” you whine as the pads of his first two fingers draw agonizing little circles around your throbbing clit.

“You need me to play with this little pussy baby?” he taunts, gently pinching and rolling the taught little bundle of nerves between his fingertips.

“Mmmhmm” you nod frantically against the mattress but then he instantly stills his moments.

“What’s that now?”

“Yes, yes, please play with my pussy” you appease him immediately, knowing just what he was waiting for and you can feel him smirking against the side of your face.

“Turn over” he instructs and you do, then he climbs onto the bed and hauls you up further so you’re no longer half hanging off it. He’s propped up on his elbow on his side right next to and you watch as he sucks two fingers into his mouth and then brings that hand between your legs and starts rubbing in slow circles.

“Ohhhhhh fuck” you mewl, gently writhing and letting your legs fall open wider for him.

“Yeah that’s better, hmmm? That’s what you needed baby” Dave coos, his forehead resting against the side of your head. “Play with your pretty tits baby, let me see” he tells you and you don’t need to be told twice, both your hands coming to grab the soft flesh and alternating between massaging the mounds and pinching and pulling at your pebbled nipples.

“Oh fuck” Dave moans and then leans over you to take the closest one into his mouth, sucking and licking over the sensitive bud. He pulls back again after a moment and refocuses his attention on his hand between your legs, his digits sliding down to prod at your entrance until he slips two inside and buries them to his knuckles.

“Jesus, this tight little fucking pussy” Dave growls, working his fingers in and out. “So fucking wet for me”

“Yes, oh feels so good” you whine, eyes closed as you slide slightly up and down against the mattress, rocking yourself into his hand.

“Look at you” Dave clicks his tongue. “Fucking yourself on my fingers, just can’t help yourself can you, little minx” he huffs. “You wanna cum on my fingers?”

“Please” you let out in a breathy whisper.

“Please what, baby?” He asks, just as he curls his fingers at the perfect spot and you cry out as your next orgasm rapidly approaches.

“Oh fuck, please let me cum. Please Daddy”

“Good girl” Dave rewards before he shifts his position so he’s up on his knees between your legs and starts driving his fingers in and out of you at a relentless pace. The wet slaps reverberate off the walls as his hand pounds into you, fingers sinking in and out of your sopping core and your hips chase the pressure of his thrusts.

“Oh my god!” you squeal as he hits a particular spot and your vision begins to blur.

“Oh we found it did we?” he grins, doubling his efforts to push harder and faster into you as his free hand comes up to press his thumb down on your clit and you instantly cum in a silent scream, your orgasm racking over your entire body until you collapse back into the mattress with a blissed out smile spread on your lips.

“God damnit, I need to fuck you” Dave growls suddenly and he’s all but manhandling you into a new position. He grabs you around the waist and flips you over until you're on your hands and knees and he pushes down between your shoulder blades so your head is down and your ass is up in the air. You turn your head the best you can and watch as he fists his cock a few times and then brings it between your folds to coat himself in your arousal. He’s sliding in and out of your slick lips, the tip of his cock bumping deliciously into your clit with every thrust and you slide forward slightly on the bed as the threat of another orgasm chases straight on the heels of the last one.

“Oh god, fuck” you whimper into the pillow.

“Fuck, feels good doesn’t it baby? You wanna fucking cum again don’t you?” He asks and you nod frantically.

“Please, I’m so close”

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you upright so your back is to his chest, both of you on your knees and he continues bucking his hips, sliding through your folds and you look down to see just the tip of his head occasionally peek through from between your legs as he rubs against your pussy with his hard length. His hands come to your hips next and he helps you drag yourself up and down and your own hands reach up and behind you to wrap around his neck and just hang on for dear life as he slams into your throbbing little bundle of nerves over and over again.

“Cum all over this cock baby, fucking soak me” he growls at your ear and it does you in. You tip over that edge again and your body falls forward down onto your elbows as a choked out sob escapes you.

“Oh my god” you huff, chest heaving and body shaking so hard you can barely hold yourself up. Dave is still rocking into you and it’s way too fucking much on your oversensitive clit. You need him inside you or ten feet away from you, one or the other, you’re not sure, you just know you can’t take this particular brand of torture any longer.

“Dave, I - oh fuck”

“Beg for me” he seethes between clenched teeth as he tries desperately to hold himself together. “Beg for this fucking cock Sweetheart”

“Please!” You cry out instantly, not wasting a moment. “Need your fucking cock inside me, please. Please fuck me”

“Goddamn slut” he snarls before he thrusts forward and sheathes himself in your wet heat and you let out a guttural moan at the delicious stretch. One of his hands goes to your shoulder and the other has a bruising grip on your hip as he fucks into you fast and hard and you’re practically convulsing underneath him.

“Fuck baby, taking this cock so good, Jesus” he pants as he pounds into you from behind so hard that the headboard is slamming into the wall and if you had any functioning brain cells left you’d be worried you were about to break the bed.

“Oh fuck you're gonna make me cum” he huffs, head tossed back and eyes squeezed shut as he drives into you so hard and fast you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head, your mouth open in a silent scream you're pretty sure only dogs can hear.

"God damn baby" he growls, his pace still relentless and you need him to finish. You know he's waiting for you to give him one more but as good as he's making you feel you don't think there's any possible way you have one more in you so you do your best to coax it out of him whatever way you can.

“Oh god, please cum for me Daddy, I want it so bad” you whine pathetically, hoping it will do him in, but then your moans turn into a loud gasp when you feel the hand that was at your shoulder wrap around your throat and squeeze the sides. It’s harder and longer than last time and before long there are dark spots at the corners of your vision the longer he holds. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore and you’re about to grab for him to tap out he releases you and blood rushes to your head and you lose focus on everything except the way your cunt clenches down on Dave’s cock as wave after wave of euphoria hits you.

“Oh fuck. That's my good girl. Fuck fuck fuck” Dave grunts and pulls out of you, fisting his cock over and over again until ropes of his warm seed begin to coat over your ass and lower back until he has nothing left to give and he turns over and collapses on his back in exhaustion.

You lower your hips back down to the bed so you’re flat on your stomach, still coming down from your own orgasm and both of you are heaving on the bed next to each other, trying to catch your breaths.

You finally start coming back to yourself and you turn your head over to the other side to look at Dave and a laugh suddenly escapes you.

“What?” Dave questions, clearly not in on whatever’s got you in stitches.

“You just fucked my brains out and didn’t even remove a stitch of clothing. You still have your fucking shoes on!”

Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss, but the whole notion is wildly amusing to you for some reason.

Dave looks down at himself as if he’s now just noticing you’re not wrong. His pants and underwear are around his thighs but other than that he’s fully clothed from head to toe and now he lets out a laugh before rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Fuck me” he groans, exasperated.

“Not again, give a girl a break” you joke and he rolls his eyes playfully before he swats at your ass.

“Smartass” he grumbles before he lifts his hips and pulls his pants up and then rolls off the bed and heads to the bathroom. You hear the faucet running for a minute and know you need to get up yourself and clean off but you literally don’t know if you can move after whatever the hell that was that Dave just put you through. You lost count of the orgasms.

To your surprise however, Dave comes back (fully dressed again with his appendage back inside his now refastened pants) with a washcloth in his hand and walks up to your side of the bed and holds it out to you.

You thank him shyly and are glad when he turns away from you to give you some privacy. You’re not sure how on earth you can possibly still get embarrassed in front of this man after the things he’s said and done to you and you to him, but you do. If Marcus were here he’d clean you up himself, soft strokes of the warm cloth between your legs and you’d watch him with a dopey smile on your face at how sweet he is to you and pull him in for a kiss when he was done.

And speaking of Marcus you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand next to you and you reach for it to read the incoming text. You see that it’s actually from Dave in your group chat and you glance up to see him with his back to you, phone clutched in his hand.

“What’s the score? I had the 9’ers to cover” it reads and you roll your eyes and huff a little laugh. You guess that’s a better way of saying ‘hey, all done here fucking your wife into another dimension if you wanna come home now’

Three little bubbles appear as Marcus is typing a reply and you feel a little flutter in your tummy, a smile involuntarily crossing your lips.

“Sorry buddy, hope your kids college funds weren’t riding on that game”

Kids? Interesting. You’re suddenly realizing you don’t actually know anything about this man. No wedding ring though so you assume he’s divorced at least.

You click back to your messages page and pull up your direct line to Marcus without Dave in it and type a simple message.

“Come home ❤️”

He replies instantly.

“On my way”

You get up from the bed and grab for your discarded robe from the floor from earlier, tying it around yourself and head off to the bathroom to pee. When you come back out Dave is still standing there and you realize now you have no idea how you’re supposed to say goodbye to him. The nerves and awkwardness suddenly flooding you again.

“Well, um… thanks, for tonight” you say, wringing your hands together and he offers you a comforting smile.

“My pleasure baby, c’mere” he says and reaches a hand out to grab yours and tug you towards him. He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. He doesn’t linger, doesn’t turn it into more, just wants to put you at ease and it does.

“Don’t be a stranger now” he winks at you and you reward him with a soft smile.

“I won’t” you promise, giving his hand a small squeeze.

“I can see myself out” he tells you before releasing your hand and he walks off out the bedroom door as you call out a soft ‘goodnight’ to the back of his retreating head.

As you hear his heavy footsteps down the stairs a flash comes across your bedroom window and you realize it’s Marcus’ headlights as he pulls up the drive and you wander over to the window and glance outside. Just as Marcus is getting out of the car Dave is walking down towards his own sleek black sedan that’s parked at the curb and the two men stop when they meet. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you watch as Dave reaches a hand out and Marcus grabs it and they shake while Dave’s other hand lands on Marcus’ shoulder and gives it a firm pat and they release each other. They stand there for another minute or so chatting, about what, you have no idea, until finally Dave lifts a hand in a goodbye and turns down the driveway and continues towards his car.

You turn back and flip off the lamp that was lighting the room and crawl into the bed, ridding yourself of your robe again and tossing it over a nearby chair before pulling the covers over you.

“Hey Baby” you hear Marcus call out softly a minute later when he enters the bedroom.

“Hi” you sigh dreamily, happy to hear his voice, happy to have him home.

He wastes no time stripping down and crawling into his own side of the bed and shuffling over to you. The moment he’s next to you you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly, burying your face in his neck and wrapping your limbs around him like a spider monkey with separation anxiety.

“Hey, you ok?” Marcus asks, hugging you tightly to his chest for a moment before pulling his head back to get a look at you. His hand comes to rest on your cheek and forces your gaze to his.

“Yeah I’m ok” you promise. “Just missed you”

“I missed you too” he sighs before leaning in and kissing your forehead. He pulls back after a second and stifles a laugh.

“What?” You ask, brow furrowed.

“You smell like Dave” he laughs, wrinkling his nose and you roll your eyes but are laughing as well.

“I’m not surprised, he literally left his clothes on the whole time” you tell him, shaking your head at the memory. You’re so used to Marcus who would probably never have either of you wearing clothes when you were alone inside the house if it were up to him.

“Really?” Marcus asks, features scrunched up in disbelief and you nod your head.

“What a weirdo” he teases and you laugh.

“He’s your friend” you counter.

“Our friend” Marcus corrects you and you hum.

You suppose he’s right.

“So… what was it like?” Marcus inquires further and you contemplate for probably a moment too long on how you should answer.

Mind blowing.

Incredible.

But not the same because it wasn’t you.

“It’s ok baby, I want this too, remember?” He prods further, waiting for your answer.

“It was um… a lot?” You laugh. “Like literally I’m going to need a break for a day or two”

“God damnit York” Marcus huffs but there’s no real anger there, you can hear the playfulness in his tone. “Put my wife’s vagina on a timeout” he grumbles under his breath and suddenly you’re erupting with laughter just as Marcus breaks out into a huge grin and joins you.

“Baby I love you so fucking much” you confess after the giggling finally subsides.

“I love you too. So much” Marcus replies easily, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and pulling back to smile sweetly at you.

“Do you… wanna take a bath with me?” You ask. You know you have the smell of sex and Dave York literally all over you and you assume Marcus doesn’t love that but to your surprise he just snuggles you a little tighter and hums into your hair.

“I don’t mind. I uh… kinda like you like this” he admits and despite the darkened state of the room you know he’s blushing. You also know he’s not lying either when he pushes his hips just slightly and you feel exactly how much he likes it pressing against your thigh. Marcus is kinkier than you give him credit for. And the secureness he has in your relationship and his own masculinity is so incredibly sexy you wish you had even an ounce of the energy you'd need to let him know how good he makes you feel as well.

“Baby” you let out a little whine. You want so badly to be with him but you physically don’t think you can do it. You don’t have another orgasm in you, you just don’t. And it’s not fair to Marcus for you to just lie there like a cold fish either when he wants to make love to you.

“I know” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But I’m, I thought, maybe…” he trails off, like he’s embarrassed and that has your attention.

“What? Tell me baby”

“Well do you um, remember last time with Dave? What he said about like… keeping it warm?” He begins and your tummy flutters at the memory. You absolutely remember.

“Yeah, the cockwarming thing?”

“Yeah” Marcus shrugs. “M-maybe we could try that? Only if you want to!” He adds hurriedly and you smile.

“Baby, if you’d let me fall asleep with your cock inside me, I’d literally marry you all over again” you tell him and his face lights up like a kid on Christmas just given their first puppy.

“Fuck, really?”

“Mmm hmmm” you nod, placing a hand on his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. “I wanna feel close to you” you confess.

And you do want to. You’d never even thought of doing this before because typically if he was inside you it was because you both wanted or needed to get off but now seems like the perfect time. For you at least. You hope it’s going to be enjoyable for Marcus and not pure torture if he’s too worked up and can’t do anything about it.

“Are you sure though? That’s going to be ok for you?”

“Turn around on your side” Marcus tells you rather than answering and you do so he can spoon up behind you like your usual sleeping position together. He sits up and reaches over you and pulls open the bedside drawer and grabs the small bottle of lube that you keep in there. He squeezes a few droplets into his hand and tosses the bottle back before you feel him behind you getting himself ready and then he’s sliding between your thighs, warm and hard. You’re grateful at how considerate he’s being, your sweet Marcus.

“I’ve got you honey” he whispers into your cheek as he slowly drags himself between your folds a couple of times to coat you in the slick from the lube so you’re more comfortable and then gently pushes inside, both of you groaning when he’s buried to the hilt. He reaches just a touch deeper than Dave and feels so good inside you like your bodies were simply meant to fit together.

“God I fucking missed you” he breathes into your shoulder before planting a kiss to it.

“Missed you too Marcus, so much”. There’s tears at the corners of your eyes threatening to spill. You love this man more than anything and all he wants is to make you happy and it makes your heart soar. You feel so close to him with him nestled inside you, you feel like you could stay like this forever and you’d die happy.

“Go to sleep baby” he hums and then wraps his arm around you to hold you tighter against him.

The slow and steady throb of his cock inside you is like a heartbeat and lulls you to sleep in minutes, pulling you into a dreamless and restful slumber for the rest of the night until morning comes and you make sure to show Marcus exactly how much you appreciate him.

Chapter three

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