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getitoutofmymindwrites · 1 month

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The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k

Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

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...need your reassurance...

...your only focus…

...for the foreseeable future...

He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.

For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.

You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.

Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.

“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.

“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.

“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.

“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.

Therapy was hard.

Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.

But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.

He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.

“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.

“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.

“And what were those?”

“She didn’t want to see me.”

“Did she say that?”

“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.

“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.

The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.

Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.

“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”

“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.

“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”

“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.

“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.

Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”

“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”

Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.

“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”

“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.

“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”

“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”

“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”

“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”

“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”

"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.

“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”

Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.

“Joel?”

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.

He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.

“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”

This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.

You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.

“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”

“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.

“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.

“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”

Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.

But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.

No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.

No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.

No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.

When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?

A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?

Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.

People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.

No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.

The papers are not ready.

Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.

Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.

An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?

You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.

The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?

So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?

Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?

Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.

Can you turn back time?

Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.

You know I can’t..

Sign the papers. Please.

“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”

“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.

“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.

“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”

His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.

“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”

The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.

“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.

“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”

“She asked me to leave the house.”

“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”

“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”

“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”

“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”

“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.

Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”

Fuck.

How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?

His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.

“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”

“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.

Touché.

“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.

“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.

Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.

“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”

Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.

“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.

Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”

“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.

“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.

“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.

“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”

“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.

“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”

“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.

“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”

The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”

“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”

“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”

“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”

“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.

“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”

Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.

“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.

Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”

“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.

“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.

“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.

“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.

Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.

“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.

“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.

“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.

Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.

But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.

Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”

“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.

“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.

Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?

“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.

“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”

You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?

But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.

You were right.

It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.

There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.

Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.

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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre

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heartpascal · 1 year

Text

the crooked kind

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: you were sarah’s best friend, and you reunite with joel years after outbreak day.

▹ — a/n: erm. i love him. again not my best writing but i love this concept sm. also yes now i know there is an audience for father figure joel u will be getting so much of him

▹ — warnings: reader had major family troubles, pre-outbreak & post-outbreak, father figure joel, reader is injured, stab wound, referenced raiders/hunters, bill being hostile as usual, frank being a sweetie

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

25th September, 2003.

After a long shower at the Miller’s house, you got changed and went downstairs to face them, the same anxiety you always felt when this happened arose in your chest. They were in the kitchen waiting for you, matching frowns on both Sarah and her dad’s face. You smiled tightly at them, grabbing the box of food Sarah held out for you.

“Guys, it’s fine! I can’t stay here forever.” You told them lightly, trying to lift the heavy mood that always fell over the three of you when you had to go back to your own house.

“You could! Couldn’t she, dad?” Sarah asked, turning to her dad and knowing the answer before he even said it.

“‘Course you could, kid. You know you’re a part of the family.” Joel supplied, making it even harder to maintain the certain and confident front you always put on when it was time to leave.

You heard the tires of the truck pulling up outside their house, and the truck door slamming shut as Tommy stepped out, his frown matching Sarah and Joel’s, too. He grabbed the box of food from your hand and put it in the bag on your back, clapping a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezing as you smiled at him.

“Time to go,” you said, and rolled your eyes with a watery smile as you looked at the sulking expression Sarah wore, “C’mon, Sar. I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”

Nobody responded to your words, and their silence clearly conveyed their thoughts, but what about tonight? You were all aware of how much your family disliked when you stayed at the Miller’s but sometimes, you’d rather face their anger when you returned than any extra time at your own house. Aside from the people who lived there, you also never knew if there would be any water, which is why you always took a shower before leaving the Miller’s. You’d likely be back by this time next week, but it never made leaving easier.

You had once tried to stay at your best friend’s for longer, going on a few weeks, but when you had returned to your house to grab some more clothes, your parents had kicked off. Shouting, screaming, throwing things, the likes. They had yelled in your face that they would call the police on Joel, say he had kidnapped you, was keeping you away from home.

The last thing you wanted was the man who was essentially your own dad going to jail because of you.

It’s better this way, you had decided, because there was no other way. You were lucky your parents let you out of the house at all at this point. Every time you took a bundle of clothes stuffed into the bottom of your school bag you were chancing your luck, but you just couldn’t help it. Staying at Sarah’s gave you the experience of a loving family that you so badly wanted. A warm house, cooked food, and working water didn’t hurt, either.

“Let’s go, kid.” Tommy said, giving you a tight lipped smile. He didn’t want you to go back, either, but neither Miller men were willing to let you walk there. Tommy took you home every time, all of you knowing that Joel was much more likely to snap if your parents showed their faces.

“See you guys later! Happy birthday for tomorrow, Joel!” You waved at Sarah and Joel as you headed out of the front door, throwing a wave behind you and hearing them call out their own goodbyes.

You and Tommy sat in silence for the first few minutes of the drive, before he glanced in your direction, saying, “Listen, if you need anything, give us a call. I’m gonna be out tomorrow but Joel will be about. But hey, you need a bit of extra muscle? I’ll be there.”

You smiled at him, thankful to have such a supportive family who had your back at every turn.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Joel sighed as he gripped the steering wheel in his hand, waiting for his brother to finish up the paperwork he had to sign. When Tommy finally approached the truck, Joel turned to him with a dark look, annoyance clear in the curve of his eyebrows.

“Listen, Joel, I’m sorry!” Tommy told him immediately, reluctantly pulling his seatbelt over his chest and holding his hands up as if he was surrendering. “That fucker said her name and I just snapped, man.”

Tommy must have seen the way Joel’s face dropped, because he felt anxiety warm up in his chest as Joel said your name, his expression telling them both that something was very wrong. He remembered the crease to Sarah’s eyebrows when he had finally gotten home, the way she’d told him that you hadn’t been in school, and she felt like something was off.

“She wasn’t at school today.” said Joel, his eyes almost unfocused as all the possibilities for the why flashed in his mind, he completely missed the way Tommy’s jaw set.

The sound of guns going off in the police station sent both of their heads whirling around in alarm, with Tommy reaching back for the box that was kept under the driver’s seat. “What the…” he mumbled, eyes flashing with the fire that had started across the road. It was when they started hearing the helicopters and dozens of military and coppers swarming the street that the two Miller’s realised something was very wrong. “Shit, Sarah!”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

23rd May, 2013.

Your arm was throbbing with pain, and you were sure something was fractured at the least. Not to mention the warm red blood that was dripping down from your shoulder, basically the only thing providing you with any heat in the all-encompassing cold. Or maybe all the blood leaving you was what was making you feel so cold. You weren’t sure.

It was the first time in a while that you had left your QZ, and you were ambitious, aiming to travel all the way to the Boston QZ with as little trouble as you could manage. Of course, you hadn’t counted on the people, the raiders and hunters who tried to kill you to steal all the supplies you didn’t have. You were lucky to make it out alive, really. You hadn’t felt very lucky for a long time.

It had been at least thirteen hours since you were attacked, and you knew you wouldn’t make it much further. Already, you were feeling lightheaded, woozy, like the ground was reaching up for you, but you powered on, seeing the glint of a metal fence up ahead.

The wiring at the top told you that it was electric, which you wouldn’t have been worried about if the buzzing didn’t echo in your ears, meaning it actually had electricity.

You pushed lightly against where there was a gate, a keypad there to unlock it. These days, you wouldn’t be able to bet on it being a simple 1, 2, 3, 4. Clearly, this was somebody’s home, and they didn’t take lightly to intruders. Your head dropped against the metal, the metal warm from the sun, and you were glad that only the barbed wire at the top was electric.

Your luck clearly hadn't lasted very long, as you heard the sounds of two guns clicking, the safety turning off.

“Who are you?” A man’s gruff voice asked, and you moved your head from the fence to look at the man stood at the front, “What do you want?” His striking blue eyes tore through you, looking for any sign of a threat, but you didn’t pose much of one in your current state.

“Jesus, Bill, let the girl in, she’s gonna die out there!” A friendlier voice called out, approaching the two men already stood in front of you.

“Or, she could kill us in here.” Bill said, eyes not moving from where you stood, narrowing as you put your hands up in a motion of surrendering.

Your eyes fluttered for a second, and you nodded at the man, understanding of his caution. “I—I’m just looking to get to the QZ. Boston.” You spoke, voice dry and cracking, having only been used when you had yelled out at the people who had attacked you, and that was hours ago. You were dehydrated, tired, and hurt. “Could you point me in the direction?”

“She’s not gonna make it that far.” A woman, who you hadn't noticed approaching, said, eyebrows raised as she looked from the other newcomer to Bill. A part of you knew she was right, knew that you probably wouldn’t make it another fifty steps of the way, but god, you’d come this far, and you really didn’t want to die.

“Bill.” The man prompted, eyebrows raised as he gestured toward the gate. “Just let her in, you can always… shoot her if she tries anything.”

“And I will.” Bill threatened, glaring at you even as you nodded in agreement.

“I’m not infected,” You supplied, because it was the best you could do, “Got a nasty stab wound, little while ago.”

Bill grumbled, sending the man who was trying to help you back into the town for something, and he continued his annoyed mumbling even as he opened the gate, tapping in a code and holding his gun up to your head as you took a step forward. You stilled, eyes following him as he approached, gun still raised, and held a tester to your neck, only huffing as it flashed green.

“Come on in, honey.” The kind man said, approaching your side and helping you stumble your way into their safe haven. You swayed, even with his help, and he frowned at you.

“You sure about this, Bill?” asked the other man, who hadnt spoken before now. You hadn’t really taken much notice of him, too focused on the people speaking to you in hopes that the world might show you a bit of kindness.

“Joel?” You croaked out, eyes going wide and your legs becoming numb as you stared at the man in shock. The guns immediately rose back up to your face, and they glared at you suspiciously, with the man who had been helping you stepping aside with one look from Bill, even if it was with some reluctance. “Joel— It’s you, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

They all stared at you, none of them daring to speak for a few moments. The woman stared at Joel, trying to communicate with him through eye contact alone.

“She—she fixed it. Didn’t she?” You said numbly, feeling like you were going to pass out, but unable to take your eyes off of the cracked watch that sat on his wrist. Sarah had told you her plan for his birthday, even if you’d never gotten to see it in action, but it was broken again.

Recognition seemed to seep into Joel’s eyes, and his gun lowered slightly. He said your name like a question, like your face was an answer he couldn’t work out.

In a single moment, his gun was dropped to his side, and he surged forward, pulling you into his arms. You held onto him just as tightly, or as tightly as you could manage with your fucked up arm, and blinked away tears as you squeezed your hands together behind his back.

His hand held the back of your head, keeping you close to him as he let out a breath. “Fuck.” He said, the words watery with tears you were sure he refused to let out. “I was sure you were dead. The houses on your street were on fire, I—…” He trailed off, pulling away to hold your face in his rough hands.

You forgot all your pain for a moment, eyes full of tears from something else, something like relief, “I got away, my—my dad was arrested and my mom went to get him. When I got to yours, you were all gone.”

He swallowed guiltily, eyes looking over your grown face. You looked so different, so… you looked like an adult.

You looked around at the town, wondering which one belonged to the Miller’s, “Where— where’s Sarah?”

Joel flinched, hands squeezing your cheeks once more, before he shook his head, looking away before he pulled you back to him once again.

“Oh.” You gulped, swallowing down the grief you had already felt for the Miller’s that rose back up, trying to sweep you away.

“Can somebody explain what the fuck is going on?” The woman asked, the first of Joel’s group to speak up since your unexpected reunion. She looked between you and Joel and the two men, as if one of you could answer all of her questions.

You looked up at Joel, and he felt like he was going to be sick, the memories of you doing that before the world had gone to shit hitting him like a brick to the face. He remembered the way you would smile at him, a grin that matched Sarah’s, like the two of you were born as sisters, and not just chosen sisters.

“I…” You began, stepping out of Joel’s arms to face the group and explain, but that wave of nausea hit you, the adrenaline from finding Joel seeping from your body, leaving you feeling like you were about to step into death’s doorway. “Okay, um, let me—”

Joel stepped forward, and you fell into him, with him picking you up like he used to do with you and Sarah before. It hit him then, with how you were heavier, and how he hadn’t done this for anyone in years, but he still managed.

“I—I’ll explain, after.” He said, the words echoing in your ears as your eyes fluttered, the last of your long-winded fight or flight leaving you as you rested in your dad’s arms, feeling like perhaps you’d wake up in the bed beside Sarah’s, and everything that had happened in the past decade would have been nothing but a dream. “Frank?” He prompted, letting the man lead him to wherever he thought would be best suitable to patch you up.

That sickening feeling crept up on Joel again, the situation being horribly reminiscent of outbreak day, almost like your weight was Sarah’s own, and his shaking fingers being from fear and not shock. He hated it, that the feeling of regaining a daughter was so similar to the loss of his other.

He felt a hand on his shoulder as he followed Frank, and glanced to his side to see Tess, and allowed himself to feel the slightest comfort at the nod she gave him.

Your eyes blinked open, and you looked at him through bleary eyes, “I’ve missed you, dad.” You told him, not missing the heartache in his eyes as he looked at you, but he smiled. It was thin, watery, and barely there, but you saw it.

“Kid, you got no idea.” He sighed out, focusing on getting you fixed up before he could start crying.

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flemingsfreckles · 6 days

Text

Newlyweds

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: You and Jessie finally get married, when you get home, your original plans get derailed by your sleepy wife

Warnings: suggestive, mentions of sex (fingering), getting walked in on, no detailed smut, non sexual nudity, showering together,

WC: 1.6k

A/N: this ended up soft and fluffy, I thought about taking it the smut route but I didn’t, sorry I know yall love some smut, I also finished writing this just now and I’m just gonna post it, it’ll edit it if I find errors but it’s very possible they’re in there.

Jessie was practically cackling as she ran down the hallway of your home toward your bedroom with you cradled in her arms.

“If you fall you’re going to get us both hurt Jessie.” You tried to protest when she went to pick you up outside the front door.

“It’ll be fine! Plus it’s a tradition thing.”

“I think the tradition is the groom carries the bride through the door, last time I checked we’re both the bride.”

“Shhh just let me do it.” You had, reluctantly let her pick you up, bridal style, walking you through the door of your house. It only took 3 steps for Jessie to in fact trip over the rug that sat at the entrance.

Thankfully neither of you were hurt, she had managed to catch both herself and you before either of you hit the floor.

“Jessie!”

That’s what set her off laughing. And she couldn’t stop, she was hysterically laughing as she kept moving, using your body to push open the bedroom door. By the time she placed you on the bed you were laughing too. You couldn’t help it, your wife’s laugh was contagious.

“I cannot believe you almost fell.” You shake your head looking up at where she stood next to the bed. Going limp she flops down onto the bed next to you. She’s laying on her stomach, looking at you as you lay on your back, turned to the side to look at your wife.

“Hi wifey.” She whispers to you, the biggest toothy grin across her face.

“Hi wife.” You lean in and kiss her gently.

You both lay, just staring at each other, soaking in the fact that just a few hours ago you had officially gotten married.

The two of you had joked for so long that you practically were married, being together since you were 17 and 18, you had stayed together falling in love with each other more and more as the time went on. Now being 25 and 26 you finally had done it, in front of all your friends and family, you were married.

As you stare at her you notice her eyes starting to flutter closed, then she’d open them with a couple hard blinks, before they’d start to droop again. The sight is adorable, Jessie’s sleepy face gently placed on the bed.

“Let’s go to sleep Jess”

“No, we’re supposed to, ya know, consummate the marriage.” She cracks her eyes enough to look at you and wiggles her eyebrows.

“Babe, I think that tradition is more for people who didn’t sleep together before marriage, we’ve been having sex for like 8 years.”

“But still, we’ve never had sex as wives.”

“What do you call the fingering in the reception bathroom then?” You counter.

You weren’t too proud of it, but something about seeing Jessie in her tuxedo declaring how much she loved you in front of everyone you both cared about, turned you on. You couldn’t help yourself but to whisper some filthy words into Jessie’s ear as both of you sat having dinner. The two of you had snuck off to a bathroom during your reception to have a moment to yourselves, one thing turned into another and before you knew it Jessie had you sitting on the sink, her fingers under your dress and inside of you.

Jessie’s face turned red at the memory.

“That doesn’t count as consummation, no one finished.” She argues with you.

“That’s not my fault, you can thank your sister for that.”

Jessie’s little, but thankfully adult, sister had come looking for both of you. The photographer needed you both for photos with your brand new wedding bands. You thought you had locked the door when you walked in, turns out Jessie had already made an attempt to lock it, meaning you unlocked it. She had looked everywhere, before she opened the bathroom door, seeing her older sister between your thighs, your dress hiked up around your waist and Jessie’s hand between your legs.

“Oh, you two are disgusting.” She clasped her hand over her eyes. “Wash your hands and both of you get out here, the photographer needs you!” Jessie had been mortified, being caught by her sister of all people, she would’ve preferred a teammate. You had laughed it off and dragged your red faced wife out of the bathroom.

The party continued on for a few hours after and while you were still very turned on by your wife, the exhaustion of the day started to sink in not exactly leaving either of you in the mood for what you knew would be multiple rounds of sex.

You watched as Jessie’s eyes continued to flutter shut each time they shut they stay closed for longer and longer until you’re pretty convinced she wasn’t going to open them again.

“Hey,” you gently nudge her shoulder and her eyes crack open. “Let’s go shower and get changed.”

“But I’m so comfortable here.”

“Come on babe, we can have our first shower together as wives.” Saying the word wife and it not being a joke anymore made you smile.

“So cozy in the bed.” She mumbled as her eyes closed again.

“Alright, hang on.” You stand up, moving over to the side of the bed closest to her, you scoop your arms under her shoulders and the other under her knees. She doesn’t protest as you lift her and carry her into the bathroom.

You gently place her on the floor and give her a kiss. “Let’s get you undressed.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Jessie smirks at you.

“No, you were just falling asleep on the bed.”

She pouts at you, arms crossed. You gently take her wrists, undoing the cufflinks of her dress shirt and then sliding off her tuxedo coat. Your fingers move to the buttons on her vest, undoing those and helping her remove it. Lastly is her dress shirt, she works from the top down as you work to undo the bottom of her shirt. Your hands meet in the middle and she pulls the shirt off and quickly follows it with her sports bra.

“My beautiful wife.” You lean down placing kisses across her exposed skin. While your mouth stays kissing her chest, your fingers move to her belt, undoing it and sliding it out from her pants. She undoes the button on her slacks and lets them fall to the floor. You hands find the elastic of her boxers and you slowly pull them down. Moving your head from her chest you place kisses along both of her thighs as you remove her underwear.

“You’re turn.” She says, you turn away from her to allow her access to the zipper and ties on your dress.

Jessie’s hands find the top tie and begin undoing the knot. “Have I told you enough how beautiful you look?” She says as her fingers move to the next tie. “Absolutely stunning, you took my breath away.” Her hands then move to the zipper, undoing the rest of the dress. She brings her hands up to where the top of the dress sat. She begins pulling it off of your body, similarly to your actions she brings her lips, placing them on every inch of skin on your back she exposes pulling down your dress.

Jessie extends a hand to you to help you step out and over the dress. “Wow.” She takes the time to look you up and down. You had bought a new set of lingerie for the wedding. It was a lacy white set, one you knew would make your wife crazy. “Where did you get this?” Her fingers work into the straps of the bra.

“Oh you know, just something I had lying around.” You joke with her. Her eyes are locked on your chest. “Quit staring, I’ll put it on again tomorrow for you to fully enjoy.” The comment had Jessie biting her lip, likely thinking of what she’d get to do to you after a good night's sleep.

You move your own hands to your bra, unclasping the back while Jessie’s thumbs hook into your matching panties and pull them down your legs. She comes back up to meet your lips with hers.

You both stay for a second, grinning at each other, both overwhelmed with happiness. You pull away to start the shower, while you wait for it to run warm you pull Jessie into your arms, hugging from behind. You turn the two of you toward the mirror above the vanity.

“Look at my wife.” You point in the mirror at Jessie’s figure in front of you.

“Ehh she’s alright but look at my wife!” She teases you back, pointing at you in the mirror.

“I love you, wife.”

“I love you, wife”

Your arms release her, giving her a quick squeeze with your hand on her shoulders. “Let’s hurry up and shower so we can sleep and then tomorrow we can do all the consummating you want.” You give her a wink and she quickly follows you into the shower, the two of you having a moment of peace and relaxation after the day’s festivities. As you looked at her in the shower, you couldn’t help but think how it was just the two of you, and that was all you would ever need. You and her.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader

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imbored1201 · 4 months

Note

hi! would you be able to do a teen reader x barca/arsenal (or like an individual) where they spend christmas alone without anyone knowing until they comeback, and when people realise they make it up to reader?

thanks! (and happy christmas and new years)

Mapi’s Huge Surprise

Warnings: Neglectful parents

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Word Count: 1,383

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone!

You looked at the time, 11:55 pm. About to be Christmas Day. You sighed, getting up from where you laid, to eat the rest of that gingerbread house that you built.

You hated and loved Christmas. You loved the lights and how joyful the people got, but you hated how alone you felt every year. Your parents had never acknowledged it, but they let you walk around the neighborhood to see the lights while they partied at some coworkers place.

Now that you were far from them, you wanted to do something big, but then you realized you didn't have any friends outside of the team, and the whole team were busy with their families.

You were completely alone again. When midnight hit, you decided to watch some classic Christmas movies.

—————

New Years was the same; you had also drank some wine, hoping Alexia wouldn't notice, but overall, you just enjoyed watching all your teammates stories to see what they were up to.

Your parents had called you, wishing you a great holiday and hoping it went well for you. You just asked them what they did, and as usual, they went to a party, not bothering to ask what you did for Christmas or New Years or if you would even visit them.

—————

When Alexia came back home, you were excited and clingy. You wanted to watch a bunch of Christmas movies with her. She found it cute and agreed; even though Christmas was a week ago, she even brought up the idea to make Christmas cookies.

It was probably the happiest Alexia had ever seen you. Apart from the mess, it was a fun day. A day you hated to see end, but at least you finally got to experience a Christmas tradition with someone that you knew cared about you.

—————

"So, what you do for Christmas?" Lucy asked as she bumped your shoulder. "Nothing," you shrugged, drinking some of your water. Lucy frowned at that.

"What do you mean nothing?" She asked, grabbing the water bottle from you. "I didn't do anything Lucy. I just stayed home and watched movies."

"You didn’t see your parents?" She pushed more. "Come on ladies!" Jona yelled at you guys. You quickly jogged to where the other girls were for sprints.

————

When training was over, as usual, you were the last one out the locker room, taking your sweet time. Alexia waited for you patiently, knowing if she rushed you, it wouldn't be a fun car ride for either of you.

You had lied to Alexia about your parents coming to Barcelona, telling her that they were getting a rental where you guys would stay and that they would leave after New Year's Eve. Alexia was going to her mama's house, so you weren’t worried about getting caught lying. You felt bad for lying, but you didn't want her worrying about you.

You noticed her expression, like she was thinking hard about something. "You okay?" You asked her, packing your bag. She nodded.

"We have to talk." "Did I do something? I swear, I've been on top of my work, so if my teachers told you something again, they're lying," she shook her head.

"I know you're doing good in school; your teachers have been praising you a lot lately." You smiled and followed her out to the car. She wanted to press you, but she also didn't want any awkwardness during the car ride, so she waited until you guys got home.

—————

Right when you got into the door, you tried to hurry to your room, knowing an awkward conversation was about to happen. Of course, it didn't work out.

"How was Christmas with your parents?" You froze. "Good." She looked at you, and you knew from that look that she knew you were lying.

"Don't lie to me," you winced at her tone. "Were you here alone?" You knew you couldn't lie yourself out of this one; you nodded at her question.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, "I didn't want to be a bother." "You're never a bother Bebe. My mama loves you, you're practically another daughter to her." Alexia pulled you into a hug.

"It's okay Alexia, I'm used to being alone on holidays, we never do anything anyway," she shook her head. "Next time you're coming with me, okay?" You nodded, and she kissed your forehead and let you go to your room.

—————

All you wanted to do was sleep; you were a teenager, so of course it was your top priority. You groaned and shoved whoever was on top of you. You heard them laugh and smack your cheeks a bit.

You finally opened your eyes and saw Patri and Claudia with mischievous smiles. "What are you doing here?" You mumbled sleepily, closing your eyes once again. "Alexia sent us here to wake you; we have a surprise," Pina said excitedly.

"I'm too tired to get up," you told them, shoving Patri again. You felt her get off you; you got happy, thinking they would leave you alone, but of course, with this team, you would never get your way.

"Hey!" You yelled as Pina grabbed your legs and dragged you off your bed. A huge thud sounded through the apartment as you fell. Patri quickly grabbed your arms, and they lifted you up. You tried wiggling away, but it was no use. You gave up and let them carry you.

They set you on the floor in the middle of the living room, and there you saw all of your teammates crowded around the front door and the couch.

"Alexia they hurt me," you whined to her. "I told you guys to get her out of bed nicely for once," Alexia scolded them. "She wouldn't get up," Patri defended, and Pina nodded along.

"You didn't tell me we were going to have a team bonding night," you looked at Alexia offended that she didn't warn you. "It wasn't planned,” Mapi told you.

"We got these for you" Frido told you, and you looked around and realized they all had gifts. "For what?" "What do you mean for what? For Christmas kid" Lucy told you as she threw her gift at you.

You looked at her suspiciously, "go on, open it" She was way more excited than you. "New headphones!" You said excitedly, "Because you broke your other ones and cried about it the whole bus ride," she said.

Aitana was about to give you hers but got shoved out of the way by Mapi. "Trust me, when you see mine, you won't want the other ones." Everyone rolled their eyes at Mapi.

She grabbed you, and put her hands over your eyes, and led you outside. "Alexia!" You shouted, scared Mapi would pull some dumb prank on you. "I'm right here bebe" she reassured you, giving Mapi a look of confusion.

"What did you do Mapi?" Alexia told her, seeing what she got you, but Mapi just smirked. She finally let you see, and your jaw dropped. "Holy shit" you cursed. Alexia was also too shocked to even tell you off for your language.

A dirt bike.

"No" Alexia told Mapi sternly. "Yes" Mapi said back. "I love you!" you shouted and tackled Mapi into a hug.

"We can go to a trail this weekend; I have a buddy that will teach you; we just have to get you gear" she smirked and turned to Ingrid, who handed you a box.

Your smile got bigger when you saw there was all the gear you needed. Ingrid noticed Alexia's glare. "I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how she is when she's set on something."

"Come on Alexia. Look at that smile." Mapi points to you, all happy on your dirt bike, showing it off to Patri and Pina.

"If she gets hurt-" "she won't; trust me, in a week she'll be wanting to be competing" Alexia sighed, but let it be; there was no changing Mapi's mind, and you already seemed attached to the bike.

—————

Mapi was right though; you were only paying attention to the bike all day. Completely forgetting you had everyone else lined up to give you their gifts. It was truly a Christmas you would never forget.

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #mapi leon #ingrid engen #alexia putellas

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st7rnioioss · 1 month

Text

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ we fell in love in october

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: fluff, kissing, swearing, friends to lover

word count: 1.9k

a/n: hiii everyoneee. i literally just realised i reached 1.4k, thats fucking insane, thank you so so much. i love this request, had a lot of fun, thank you!!!

this is based off this request!

౨ৎ

Matt was walking beside you up to your house. You had just been driving around the area, talking about all sorts of topics. From high school to work to your personal lives.

“Thanks for walking me home, Matt. It was nice spending time with you today,” you smiled sincerely, pulling him in for a hug as you reached your front porch.

“It’s my pleasure. I had a lot of fun as well,” he chuckled, bringing his arms around your waist to pull you closer. A bit too close for people who consider themselves ‘just friends’. You pulled away with a bright smile, letting your hand linger on the back of his neck for just a moment.

“You look nice tonight, by the way. I think I kinda forgot to tell you, but I really like that dress,” he laughed nervously, scratching his head. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, the single compliment making your cheeks turn a faint pink color.

“Thank you! It’s uh- It’s new actually.” you looked down on yourself, tugging at the end of the floral dress you were wearing. “You look great too,” you nodded with a shy smile, pointing to him.

Matt couldn’t stop smiling. He simply just found you adorable to say the least.

"Thanks,” he beamed, looking back up from your dress to meet your eyes. “Well uh- I should go, it’s getting late. I’ll see you soon, okay?” he smiled, taking a tiny step backwards.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon. Goodnight, Matt.” you waved, also taking a small step back, trying not to trip over the stairs right behind you.

The old door to your house creaked as you pushed it open. You were kind of tired from hanging out with Matt all day, not that it had anything to do with him. It was just getting late.

You had gone shopping, had lunch, fed ducks at the lake, went for a late night drive, and overall just enjoyed each other's company.

Matt had been your best friend since forever. You met somewhere during junior year in high school, and after that you hadn’t been seen separately. After a few months into senior year you realized you had developed a tiny crush on Matt. That didn’t change though. You were still in love with him to this day.

Matt and his brothers started a YouTube career, and you found a job in a bakery that also sold all kinds of flowers. Because of that, you always had a few bouquets standing around and outside your home, the color and type of flower changing depending on the season and vibe you wanted to go for.

For the past week you had white heliotrope.

You placed your phone and keys on your kitchen counter, slipping out of your coat and shoes after having been out in the chilly weather all day.

A small vibration came from your phone, the screen lighting up. It was a message from Matt.

‘Can I come over tomorrow?’ it read. Matt always wanted to be around you, specifically in your house. He almost loved it more than you did. You quickly picked up the phone, positioning yourself on the kitchen counter to answer him immediately with a

‘Yes, of course :) We can watch that movie you were talking about if you want’.

‘Yeah, I’d love that. See you tomorrow then!’

You smiled to yourself, turning off your phone as you got down from the counter.

The small house you lived in was quite cozy. There wasn’t much electrical light, most of it being from either the fireplace or the candles you had propped up everywhere, or a lamp that had the same orange light as the candles. You paced around, lighting each and every candle that was in the kitchen and living room, creating a soft orange-like light. On top of that, the faint smell of cinnamon and apple made it even better. It wasn’t too artificial of a smell, not making people literally gag when they walked in. Matt seemed to like it a lot.

The next morning you woke up to the sunlight through your gingham curtain. Your friends found the curtains absolutely horrible, but you liked the vibe of the red and white. It just suited the rest of your interior.

Your phone had a message from Matt, asking if it was okay to come over around 8, since he was filming a video with his brothers. You replied with a ‘Yes, that’s perfect’, making your way downstairs to make breakfast.

At around 7.30pm you still had no idea what to put on. Not that it mattered, Matt had seen you in all sorts of situations, but it was something you relied a lot on.

You settled on something cozy but casual, knowing you were gonna watch a movie, so jeans would probably get uncomfortable. The makeup you had put on a few hours ago needed a touch up, as well as your hair.

That took you just the right amount of time, because right as you went downstairs to light the candles, there was a knock on the door. You rushed up to it, looking at your hair in the mirror before opening the door, revealing Matt.

“Hi, Matt! Come on in!” you smiled, opening the door further for him to get inside. You could swear he was lingering his gaze just a little too long on you, but you were pulled out of your thoughts when Matt leaned in to hug you.

“Hey, thanks for letting me come over, you know how much I love your place,” he smiled, letting you go as he took off his jacket. You just smiled back in return, making your way to the kitchen.

“So uh- Do you want to bake some cookies before starting the movie?” you smiled shyly, holding up a bowl in front of you.

His face lit up, and you took that as a yes.

After way too long, the cookies were finally done. With that being said, it took you a few throws of flour, way too many jokes, a shit ton of chocolate chips eaten from the bag, and a bunch of laughter.

“Oh my god, they look fucking delicious,” you smiled, pressing your nose up against the oven to get a look on the cookies.

“Really? Let me see, move,” he giggled, pushing you gently to the side with his hands on each side of your waist. Your face turned beet red, avoiding looking him up in the eyes, only erupting a quiet chuckle.

“Oh yeah, you’re right. I think we did an amazing job,” he raised his brows, letting one hand go of you to reach out for a high-five.

“Wait, was it this one? Friday the 13th, the 2009 one?” you asked, scrolling through the insane amount of horror movies on Netflix. Matt nodded with a hum, his mouth too filled with cookies to answer you verbally. You pressed start, leaning back against the headboard of your bed. Matt wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer under the stupid amount of blankets, making you smile to yourself.

The window to your room was open, letting a view of a beautiful, now orange, tree standing in your backyard show. Matt had helped you light a few candles, the usual cinnamon-apple ones. Your normally neat bed was now completely messy, a duvet, blankets, and pillows resting everywhere.

Matt’s heart was practically beating out of his chest. He, too, had always had the biggest, fattest crush on you. Even holding you this close made his head spin. You were caught up with the start of the movie, but Matt sure as hell wasn’t. Even though he seemed relaxed enough to you, he was tense, trying to think of anything else but you, but it seemed far from possible to him. He needed to do something.

About 40 minutes into the movie, he turned body to you.

“Hey- uh. Can I just tell you something really quick?” he stuttered, positioning his body so he was facing you. You nodded, taking the cup of tea from your lips to place it on your nightstand.

“Sure, what’s up?” you smiled back at him, letting your eyes wander from his hair to his eyes, now rosy cheeks and lips, taking in all his features.

“It’s just- I’m sorry if this is sudden I just-” he stopped, sighing as he couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“I really like you. Not just as a friend, I really really want to take you out. Fuck, you know, I like you like you,” he giggled, the words were flying out of his words. Your eyes were wide, lips slightly parted from the sudden confession.

“I’m in love with you, and I just wanted to let you know.” he finally stopped speaking, allowing you to speak as well.

“You have got to be kidding me. Oh my God, I-” you started laughing. Matt was slightly confused.

“What? Sorry, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry, it’s totally fine if you don’t like me back, I just thought-” you cut him off, pressing your lips to his. Quickly, you pulled back to watch his reaction.

You simply couldn’t stop yourself from giggling nervously, cheeks turning completely red. He didn’t say anything, he just simply stared in disbelief.

“Why did you stop?” he whispered, his eyes lingering on your lips. His hands found his way to the back of your neck, lacing his fingers through your hair.

“Sorry, I don’t know. It just seemed surreal for a second,” you laughed, placing a hand on his cheek. With that, he pulled you closer by your neck, sealing his lips with yours once again. This time, he was not ready to pull back anytime soon.

His hands roamed around the back of your head, holding your head as close as possible. He had been waiting for you for years. Your hands were on him as well. One cupping his cheek, the other resting on his shoulder. It took you a minute to pull back, simply craving air.

You looked up at him, a goofy smile appearing on both your faces while you both panted.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve stopped myself from doing that,” Matt admitted, keeping your hands on each other.

“Me too. I think I figured out I liked you during an English class. I literally sprinted home to write all my overthinking down in my diary,” you giggled, leaning closer into him to hug him.

He immediately melted into your touch, resting his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your sweet scent. The one he never got tired of.

“Can you kiss me again? I’m not wasting one minute after waiting for this long,” he chuckled, cupping your face with both of his hands.

“Matt, you don’t have to ask, just do it,” you laughed at his adorable question, but you gave in anyway, leaning up once more to kiss him from his cheek to finally seal the distance between your lips again.

And that’s basically how the night went. Movie still playing in the background, nearing the end, Matt leaning over you, leaving kisses on the sides of your face, forehead, cheeks, lips, neck, collarbone, any place imaginable. The candles were about to burn out, your cup of tea getting cold from not being drinked in the past 30 minutes.

To no one's surprise, he ended up staying over for the rest of the night.

a/n: stop why am i literally craving fall right now. wheres the rest of the "i hate summer" people at.

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn let me know if you'd like to be added!

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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celiastjamesoscar · 8 months

Text

Wildest Dreams

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you are helplessly head over heels for Sam, even though she despises you. But your relationship with her changes when you get in a lightly physical altercation with her.

Warnings: light sweating, reader accidentally walks in on Sam changing, small violence

My Masterlist

AN: if you have the time, I highly recommend reading ‘The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo’ and watching ‘Carol’ <3

Word count: 6.3K

For the first time in what seemed a millennium, you finally had the house to yourself. Anika was out with Mindy for a date, and your other roommate, Luke, was doing god knows what, probably out fornicating with one of his many boyfriends, but you didn’t care. You only cared about relaxing on the couch and rewatching your comfort show, Game of Thrones.

You grabbed your phone and a bowl of popcorn and went to the couch. You curled up with the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa as you turned on your show.

Tarantula: you up? ;)

The ‘ding’ from the text pulled you away from the tv, and you smiled when you read the text from your best friend, Tara. The two of you had met on campus in the library and instantly became friends. You two bonded over your love for books and shared a passion for horror movies, even though your opinions drastically differ.

Sam lover: maybe, it depends on who’s asking

Tarantula: you’re best friend in the entire world?? Who else?

Sam lover: mhmmm, okay. What are we doing?

Tarantula: movie night, obviously

Sam lover: sure, I’ll be over in ten

Tarantula: just a heads up, you’ll have to come in through my window

You raised your eyebrows at Tara’s message, ‘Why would I have to do that? I’ve been over before,’ you thought to yourself.

Sam lover: why?

Tarantula: because Sam is watching a movie in the living room, and we are hanging out in my room

Sam lover: fuck, okay. why does she still hate me?

Tarantula: I don’t know, but don’t make any noise when you come over. Sam can’t know and don’t try and hit on her if you see her

To say that you and Sam were acquaintances would be an understatement; Sam despised you, while the woman completely enchanted you. Sam was so tall and handsome as hell. She’s bad for you, but she does it so well; you could see the end as it begins. You admired her strength, both physically and mentally, and you loved the way she cared so much about her sister. And that was also your downfall; Sam believed that you were no good for Tara, as every time Tara did something stupid, you were always at the scene of the crime. Of course, Sam didn’t know that you were always there because you tried your best to stop Tara out of respect for Sam (and a shitty attempt at winning her heart), but she never listened when you tried to explain yourself.

You scoffed at your best friend’s words. She knew of your infatuation with Sam and loved to tease you about it. At first, however, she thought it was a bit weird as you were her best friend and thought you were using her to get close to Sam, but after she saw you turn down an invite to go with Sam and Mindy to the movies just to stay at home and play Mario Kart with her, she knew that you were the real deal.

Tara found it a bit sad, though, because every time you would talk to Sam, you would either get silence, a death stare, or a one-word reply, but she would rather die than tell you that she felt pity for your shitty attempts to talk to her sister.

Sam lover: I will not be held responsible for my actions when I am around a beautiful woman with big brown eyes

Tarantula: yeah, yeah, whatever. just get over here soon and climb in through my window; I’ll leave it open

Sam lover: sounds good. I’m omw

With that, you shut your phone off, grabbed your backpack and put a spare change of clothes along with a cable to charge your phone in it, and went towards Tara’s apartment. You enjoyed walking by yourself as it allowed you to be with your thoughts, and you couldn’t help it when you started to think of Sam. The gravitational pull you felt towards the older woman was something you couldn’t explain even if you had to; you just knew that you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt. You longed to get lost in those dark eyes and don’t even get started on those muscular arms; to you, Sam was perfect, and you would count all the stars in the sky if you could call her yours for a moment.

When you reached the street Tara lived on, you sent Tara a quick message asking her which side her window would be on, and she responded with ‘the one that’s close to creepy ass alley,’ which was all of New York in your eyes.

Sam lover: that’s all of NY, Tarantula

Tarantula: It’s across from the McDonald’s, five stories up. And stop calling me ‘Tarantula.’ It’s offensive.

You laughed at your friend’s reply before sending back a quick ‘huh uh.’ You walked around the apartment until you saw the McDonald’s and then the creepy ass alleyway and looked up five stories. And true to her word, Tara had her window open for you. You climbed onto the fire escape and slowly made your way to Tara’s window before sending her a quick text telling her you were here, only you didn’t see the message she sent back telling you you weren’t at her window.

When you pushed Tara’s window the rest of the way and climbed halfway in, you nearly died; Sam was standing in a towel with her back facing you as she grabbed some clothes from her dresser. When she dropped her towel, your heart exploded, and it felt like you were in your wildest dream. You admired her perfect curves, and then the leg that you had in Sam’s room gave out, causing you to fall into Sam’s room with a loud thud.

Sam turned around with a shocked expression before she quickly turned back to her dresser and grabbed a knife. You could not seem to pry your eyes away from Sam’s chest, and you swore you could feel drool fall down your chin. You were too busy trying to engrave Sam’s naked figure into your brain that you didn’t feel the blade fly into your left thigh.

“Sam, I am so sorry,” you said as you tried to stand up on your legs, but one gave out and screamed in pain. The only thing on your mind was Sam’s breasts that you swore looked like the softest pillows ever.

“What the fuck is going-Oh my god! What happened to your leg?” Tara exclaimed after bursting into the room, disregarding her sister, who finally covered herself with a towel. At the mention of something wrong with your leg, you finally felt the sharp pain shoot through your entire leg as you stared at the blade in your thigh.

“You’re weird friend just broke into my room and stared at me while I was changing!” Sam stated as she grabbed her clothes and stormed off to the bathroom, clearly not caring about your wound. Tara quickly ran to your side and knelt beside you, “I am so sorry about this, Y/N. I didn’t know that she also had her window open.”

You shrugged off Tara’s comment as you tried to move, but the pain was too much. You watched as your crimson-red blood steeped onto the room’s flooring and stained your clothing. “Come on, we have to get you to a hospital,” Tara stated, pulling you up to the floor and leaning your weight onto her. By the time Tara had entered the living room and to the door, Sam was dressed and had her phone and keys in hand. “I’ll take you to the hospital; let’s go,” Sam stated as she moved Tara off you and took her place. It was pitiful how your face heated up when you felt Sam pull your left arm over her shoulders and hold it while her right arm was wrapped around your waist, allowing you to lean your weight onto her.

When you reached Sam’s car, Tara opened up the back row door and helped Sam lay you down on the seats before she got into the passenger door. “Do not die in my car, Y/N. I don’t need you to haunt my car,” Sam dryly stated as she closed the door and got in the driver’s side. You don’t remember much of the car ride to the hospital; the only thing on your mind was seeing Sam naked, and no matter how hard you tried, you would never be about to erase that beautiful image from your mind.

One moment you were daydreaming about the beautiful goddess that had just stabbed you, and then the next, you were in a hospital bed with stitches in your thigh. For the life of you, you couldn’t recall what had happened, just that you saw Sam naked, and then she stabbed you. You saw yourself, in hindsight, tangled up with her all night in your wildest dreams. Someday when your mind leaves you, you bet that the memory of Sam will follow you around.

“Oh, thank god, I thought I was going to have to murder Sam,” Tara said as she moved from the chair in the corner of the room and approached your bed. She sat on the edge of the bed and gently grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “What happened? The last thing I remember was being in the back of Sam’s car,” you recalled as you looked around the room and saw Sam, who was standing creepily in the doorway with her arms crossed.

“You passed out on the drive here. You should have seen Sam, though; she was terrified you had actually died,” Tara said with a small laugh as she remembered her sister’s frantic attempts to make sure you were still alive, and she also wanted to let you know that Sam slightly cared about you.

Sam scoffed at her sister’s words as she uncrossed her arms and walked toward you. “I was worried you were going to ruin my seats and then haunt my car,” Sam stated coldly, but her eyes betrayed her icy stature. You could see the way her eyes darted across your body, subtly checking to see if you were actually okay, and how she had her hands shoved into the pockets on her bomber jacket, slightly ashamed that she had hurt you.

Within the first encounters you had with Sam, you noticed how she always hid her hands when she was ashamed of something, and right now, all you wanted to do was reach out and comfort the woman. “Eh, I’m fine,” you shrugged briefly.

You talked to Tara while Sam stood around the room, looking out of place as she watched you with her sister. When the doctor came in, she gave you painkillers and told you could leave in the morning. “Could one of us stay here with her?” Sam asked the doctor worriedly when she was close to the door. “The hospital rules say we can’t allow non-family members to stay overnight, but I’ll let you stay with your girlfriend,” the doctor replied with a smile as she looked between you and Sam, clearly reading into some tension in the air.

Sam didn’t even have time to deny the doctor’s words before she left the room and shut the door, so Sam turned around with a scoff and was met with your drugged-out smile and Tara’s knowing one. “Well, Sammy, I will leave you here with your ‘girlfriend,’” Tara joked as she stood from the bed and grabbed her things.

“No. Tara, there is no way you are leaving here this late at night,” Sam replied as she followed her sister to the doorway. “Well, I’m certainly not staying here; I hate hospitals. And besides, Mindy is here to pick me up,” Tara replied with a smile.

She hated to admit it, but Sam was at a crossroads. She didn’t want Tara to stay here after the last time her sister was left alone in a hospital, and she also didn’t want you to stay here alone. She worried about you for Tara’s sake and definitely not because she felt terrible for being the reason you were here.

With a defeated sigh, Sam nodded and spoke, “Alright. Just let me walk you out.”

You watched the two sisters open the door and smiled when Sam stopped and looked back at you, “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“Okay, girlfriend,” you replied with a dopey smile, clearly enjoying the effects of the painkillers.

When Sam returned, she said nothing as she brought two chairs together and made herself an awkward bed. “You know, you can join me,” you suggested as you scooted over to the side, allowing Sam some room if she chose to sleep with you.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Sam replied as she got out a blanket and a pillow from the wardrobe and got comfortable on the chairs.

“Why not? I’ve already seen you naked.”

Sam rolled her eyes and laid her head on the pillow, and covered up with the blanket, “Do not mention that ever again.”

“Okay. I want to let you know you have a beautiful body, Sam. Your boobs are perfect! I mean, my god, the things I would do-”

“Please stop talking,” Sam interrupted you as she tried her best to fight off the fluttering feeling in her stomach at your words. She knew the painkillers were talking, but she couldn’t help but believe there was some truth to your comments. “Goodnight, Y/N,” Sam said after a few awkward moments of silence.

“Goodnight, girlfriend,” you teased as you got as comfortable as you could you a hospital bed before sleep consumed you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the morning, you were discharged from the hospital but had to walk around with crutches for a while. And to put it short, you hated it. Yes, having to walk around with them constantly clanking every time you walked got annoying, and how your armpits ached at the end of each day. But the worst part was that you couldn’t impress Sam with them.

Naturally, you were angry at Sam for throwing a knife in your leg, but you also shouldn’t have been staring at her while she was changing.

“Who even changes with their window open anyways?” Mindy asked one night while over at Tara’s apartment for dinner. You and Mindy had been invited over for a girl dinner with the Carpenters as you four sat around the dining table. The table had a dish of lasagna along with a salad bowl prepared, and you could not wait to eat the delicious food Sam had prepared.

“My room was hot, and I was letting in fresh air; I didn’t think someone would try and break in,” Sam stated as she made herself a bowl of salad with her lasagna.

“I did not break in. Tara invited me over and told me to go through her open window,” you said once you finished a bite of your food, “so technically, it’s her fault.”

Tara scoffed at your words while throwing a crouton at you, earning herself a scolding look from Sam. “Do not try and blame this on me; I texted you and told you that wasn’t my room, but you didn’t see it,” Tara replied.

“Why did you even tell her to climb through your window?” Sam asked with a puzzled look.

“Because, Sam, you would have told her to leave or probably stabbed her, but you already did that,” Tara dryly said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sam rolled her eyes at her sister's statement before focusing on her food.

“I was lightly stabbed, so it’s not that big of a deal,” you said.

“You were still stabbed, Y/N,” Tara replied annoyedly. She knew that you were weirdly happy about Sam stabbing you, but she tried her best to ignore it.

“Lightly stabbed.”

Mindy chuckled while looking at you, “Whatever. I still can’t believe she threw a knife at you; me personally, I would not let that slide.”

“It’s whatever; I didn’t even notice it until Tara came barging into the room,” you said while looking at Sam, who picked her food with her fork and refused to meet your gaze.

Mindy just laughed at your response before returning her attention to her food. The rest of dinner was filled with laughs and idle conversations, but you couldn’t help but notice how Sam didn’t participate in any of the conversations. You had tried to get her engaged, but she would either respond with a nod, a laugh, or a single word.

Sam felt bad for reacting the way she did, and she wanted to apologize to you, but she didn’t know how without bringing up the fact you slightly deserved it. So, when dinner was finished, and the rest of the group moved into the living room to watch a movie, Sam pulled you aside.

“What’s up?” You asked with a smile as you leaned on a crutch. It had been a couple of weeks since you were discharged from the hospital, so now you only walked around with one crutch.

That smile you gave her, Sam couldn’t find the correct words to describe it. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and she wanted to kiss it off your lips. “Just so you know, you’re insufferable and intolerable. And I hate you.”

“Oh, okay,” you said with that same smile, fully knowing Sam was lying. Sam, on the other hand, desperately needed to get away from you, or she might do something she would regret. “Is there anything else you need?” You asked.

With a sigh, Sam asked, “Yes, actually. What are some books I could read? I’ve been trying to get into reading because of Tara, and I wanted to discuss them with her, and I need to have a few books under my belt before I do that.”

Your smile grew ten times bigger at Sam’s question, and the older woman wanted to murder you for it. “I have been waiting for ages for you to ask me that. I actually have a copy of my favorite book with me if you want to give it a try?” You asked as you made your way over to your backpack.

Sam followed behind you and watched as you moved around your sleeping clothes and pulled out a weathered book. It had different colored sticky notes hanging from the pages, and the edges around the book looked like they had their share of bumps and drops.

Sam grabbed the book and read the cover with a scoff. “Look, Y/N; I’m not reading a book about a woman who had seven different husbands. That’s just absurd,” the Latina said with a dry tone.

“No,” you replied as you placed your hand on Sam’s wrist, holding the book, “trust me, Sam. Just try it; it’s not what you think it is.”

“Alright, fine. If this book is better than it sounds,” Sam said as she looked around the room with a huff, “I guess I’ll treat you with respect or something.”

Sam didn’t even have time to react before she felt the hand on her wrist pull away and pinch her cheek. “I know you’ll love it,” you said with a cheeky grin as Sam slapped your hand away from her face. “Do not ever do that again,” she warned as she pointed a finger in your face.

“Yes, ma’am,” you responded with a salute before walking back toward the living room, “is there anything else you need?”

‘I want to take you on a date and then put your head on a stick,’ Sam wanted to say but said, “I’ll let you know what I think of it.”

You gave Sam a soft smile as you returned to the living room. Sam didn’t know what she was feeling toward you, but she eventually sauntered off to her room after realizing she cared about you more than friends do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, Tara; The Babadook is easily one of the worst horror movies ever made!” You exclaimed with your hands as you stared down at the more petite girl. You had finally gotten your stitches out and were no longer walking around with a crutch, so that meant a celebration night over at the Carpenter’s apartment.

“No, it’s not! You just hate it so much because it scares you!” Tara retorted as she hit the leg closest to her, which happened to be the one Sam lightly stabbed.

You moved your legs up onto the loveseat you were sitting on after she hit you, “Yeah, and also because it scares me so much! And don’t hit me, you little shit.” Tara scoffed at your words and stood up and grabbed one of her shoes, and was getting ready to launch it at you when the door to the apartment opened. She quickly dropped the shoe and stood facing the door with her hands clasped behind her back and an innocent smile, as if she wasn’t just getting ready to throw a shoe as hard as she could at your face. “What’s going on?” Sam asked when she saw Tara standing with a creepy smile and your shocked expression.

“Tara was-”

“I was getting up to order some pizza!” Tara interrupted you and sent you a death glare when Sam turned her back to hang up her purse. Sam turned around and looked between you two and ignored the shoe she saw by Tara’s feet; whatever her sister was getting ready to do to you, you probably deserved it.

“Okay,” Sam replied as she exaggerated the word before walking to her room, but not before sending you a glare. “Nice to see you, Sam!” you said with a smile while Sam huffed before slamming her door. “You are such a charmer,” Tara joked as she shoved your legs off the couch so she could sit next to you.

You scoffed at Tara’s words while you reached for the remote and pushed Tara off you when she tried to take it from you. “No! Down girl, down!” You said when you finally pushed Tara off of you. She scoffed as you turned on the tv before leaning back on the couch and putting her feet in your lap. You pulled her feet more into your lap and let your hand rest on her leg while you looked for something to watch. Naturally, Tara made it hard for you to pick something out because she refused to watch anything you wanted to spite you, but eventually, you settled on watching ‘Carol.’ You loved this movie more than anything, even though you cried every time you watched it.

For some unknown reason, Tara pulled her feet from your lap and left the couch roughly ten minutes into the movie. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she walked toward her room with her phone in hand. “Do you want me to pause it for you?” You asked as you reached for the remote but stopped when Tara told you not to wait up on her. You missed the devilish smirk she wore on her lips as she disappeared into her room.

You continued to watch the movie by yourself when you heard a door open up. “Finally! I was starting to think that you were leaving me here to hang out with Sam,” you said with a smile as you paused the movie and finally turned around to face Tara, but your smile faded once you saw Sam. “Oh, I’m sorry; I thought you were Tara,” you said with an embarrassed tone as your eyes refused to meet Sam’s piercing gaze.

The older woman huffed at your words before she went to the couch and sat at the opposite end while unlocking her phone, trying to keep as much space as possible between you two. “Tara texted me and told me that she felt sick and she didn’t want you to leave because it’s late at night and doesn’t want anything to happen to you, so she wants me to keep you company,” Sam read aloud her text messages between her and Tara before she closed her phone and set it on the coffee table in front of you guys.

“You don’t have to; I’m fine staying in here by myself,” you said with a polite smile while looking at Sam. The woman turned her head and looked at you before giving you the fakest smile you have ever seen while she lied through her teeth, “That’s alright, I’m good to stay in here with you.” The tension was so thick you could practically taste it on your tongue, but you held your breath and muttered a quiet ‘okay’ as you restarted the movie.

It’s not that she hated being around you after the incident; the only thing she wanted to do was kiss you and call you hers, but she was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same. Especially after she lightly stabbed you.

“Wait, why are you restarting it?” Sam questioned as she looked between you and the tv.

“Because you missed the opening scene, which is arguably one of the best scenes in the movie, and you also need to watch it to understand the ending better,” you reasoned with an honest smile while your gentle eyes danced across Sam’s face.

She didn’t know why, but after listening to your explanation of why the opening scene was essential and listening to your voice that was full of only love and admiration for this movie, Sam decided that she would actually pay attention to it, rather than send you hateful glances every once in a while.

So when the tv finally stopped the introduction, and it was Carol and Therese sitting together at a dinner table in a fancy restaurant, Sam picked up on the tension-riddled scene and couldn’t help but glance over at you. She noticed how your eyebrows furrowed, and your eyes danced between Carol and Therese as if you were getting ready to jump through the tv and become a part of the movie. Her eyes finally drifted down to your lips, and she noticed how your tongue was barely sticking out between your lips as you studied the screen, as if there was going to be something small in the background, and if you blinked, you would miss it.

“Are you even watching?” You questioned when you felt eyes burning into the side of your skull, but your own eyes never left the screen.

Sam awkwardly cleared her throat before speaking, “Sorry; you just seem really invested in this movie, and I thought it was funny.” You felt heat creep up the back of your neck at Sam’s words but shook it off as her being cautious of you. “It’s a great film, Sam. I think you’ll like it,” you replied with a gentle smile as you pried your eyes away from the screen to look at Sam before returning your attention to the tv.

When you said that she might like it, Sam took her eyes away from you and actually paid attention to the movie. When the sex scene came up, the air in the room became tense, as if both of you were holding your breath and holding back from one another. Sam tried her best to fight back the blush she felt, and she looked to you for help. You had your mouth agape, no matter how often you watched this scene, you were always enchanted by it, and you whispered, “I wish that were me.” Even though she tried to, Sam couldn’t come up with a retort for your comment; she also wishes she could do that with Cate Blanchett, but she also wishes that was her with you.

Sam then turned her attention back to the screen and had to fight any urges that she might have been feeling toward you. Her eyes never left the screen until the very end; only when she had to blink back the eyes that threatened to escape as she looked up at the ceiling. When the end credits rolled, you cleared your throat, tension still left over from the sex scene, “So, what did you think of it?”

“It was certainly something. It was a lot better than I expected, just based on your taste in things,” Sam joked as she subtly wiped the tears away in her eyes. You chuckled at her words, ‘if you only you knew,’ you thought as she stared at her with hearty eyes.

You quickly snapped out of your daze when you noticed Sam shuffling uncomfortably on the couch, “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. And just so you know,” you said as you stood up from the couch, “I have an exceptional taste in things.”

Sam laughed at your words before standing up, “I highly doubt that.” You smiled at the older woman before making your way to Tara’s room; you had plans to murder the little shit for leaving you alone with Sam. “Goodnight, Sam,” you said with a smile as you opened Tara’s door slightly. Sam gave you a genuine smile as she went to her room, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

This was the first time you had had a direct conversation with Sam since she pulled you aside and asked for a book recommendation, and you wished you could have more conversations with the woman. She was smarter than she gave herself credit for, and the way she expressed herself through body language while talking was something you found attractive, to put it lightly.

When you entered Tara’s room, you saw the girl lying toward the foot of her bed with her laptop open, and you could faintly hear Toni Collette giving her ‘I am your mother’ speech. “So, how did it go with Samantha?” Tara questioned with a smug grin as you sat on the bed with your back propped against the headboard. You threw your legs up onto the bed and dug the heel of your right foot into Tara’s back, causing the girl to let out a small yelp before shoving your leg off of her and scolding you.

“Whatever, you deserved it,” you said as you crossed your ankles and left them next to Tara, who was still facing the foot of the bed. “And for your information, it was fine. She didn’t try and kill me again,” you joked.

“A win is a win,” Tara replied as she moved to sit next to you and put the laptop on your lap while she cuddled up next to you. You put your arm around her waist and placed a platonic kiss on her head right when Sam walked in.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can come back later,” Sam said as she looked down at the floor and turned her back to you two, embarrassed that she had just walked in on an intimate moment between you and her sister and ignored the pain she felt in her heart. “No, it’s okay, Sam,” Tara said while pulling away from you and silently encouraging you to go after Sam even though she was still in the doorway.

“I thought you were sick?” Sam asked with her back still facing you two. “Yeah, I can’t explain that one without unveiling my grand scheme of things plan,” Tara said while getting up from her bed and turning Sam to face her, “I’m serious, Sam. Nothing is going on between me and Y/N.”

Sam looked away from her sister and saw you sitting on Tara’s bed, smiling as you sent her a small wave. The woman scoffed at your actions before returning to her room.

Once Sam was gone, Tara closed the door, walked over to you, and hit you in the stomach. “The fuck was that, Y/N?” She whisper-shouted at you, “I basically admitted to having a plan of forcing you and Sam together, and you fucking wave at her?”

“I didn’t know what you wanted me to do!” You defended.

Tara sighed at your statement; she had laid the groundwork, and then just like clockwork, the dominos were supposed to cascade in a line because she’s a mastermind, but your dumbass messed it up. “Go talk to Sam. Right. Now. Or so help me God, I will violently murder you to death,” Tara commanded as she pulled you from her bed and pushed you toward the door. “And do not come back until you have talked to her,” and with that, Tara shut the door in your face and locked it.

You sighed before walking toward the living room. You thought about sleeping on the couch, but you knew Tara would probably draw a penis on your face while you slept, so you sucked in a deep breath before walking toward Sam’s door.

Sam heard a gentle knock of three intervals at her door, pulling her away from her note. “Just a minute,” she said as she finished her writing and slipped it into a preselected page in the book.

“What’s up?” She asked once when she opened her door and saw you.

“I just wanted to ask you about the book,” you replied with a smile that Sam wanted to kiss off your lips.

Instead of doing what she desired, she left her door open while grabbing the book and handed it back to you. “This is the saddest book I have ever read. Who would come up with such a thing?”

You chuckled at her words and accepted the book, “I know. I take it; you finished it?”

“Barely. But I finished it in one sitting,” Sam said while staring into your love-struck eyes. Sam swore she could feel herself getting lost in them, and she never wanted to leave your eyes.

“So, what did you think of it?” You asked.

“It was alright. Some pages were hard to read because of the tear-stained pages.”

You lightly laughed at Sam’s words, and the older woman felt her heart might explode if she heard that soft laugh again. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. This book really gets to me, you know?” You said while your eyes quickly glanced down at Sam’s lips, wondering if they tasted as good as they looked.

Sam cleared her throat, and you knew you had been busted. “So, I guess I’ll have to treat you with respect now,” she admitted through a tightened jaw.

“Or whatever,” you said with a smile, hoping Sam picked up the double meaning, and she did.

“Yeah, or whatever.”

“Just so you know, nothing is going on between me and Tara,” you clarified after a few seconds, and you set the book down on the couch behind you.

Sam knew that there wasn’t anything between you and her sister, but hearing those words leave your lips gave Sam a feeling of comfort she didn’t know she needed. “I know, Y/N.”

“Okay. I just wanted to clarify that before I did this,” Sam didn’t even have time to react before she felt your hands grip her neck and pull her into a passionate kiss. The way your lips felt like they had been made for her lips amazed Sam, and she finally felt her heart explode when she matched your intensity.

Your lips danced together as Sam deepened the kiss and pulled you by your waist closer to her. You felt her tongue push past your lips, and an involuntary moan slipped out, causing Sam to laugh against your lips. When you felt Sam’s hands drift toward the bottom of your shirt, you lifted your arms, and Sam got halfway into taking it off before you two heard a voice behind you, “Goddamnit, Y/N! I told you to apologize, not swap spit with her!”

You pulled away from Sam and turned to face Tara, who smiled knowingly. “Sorry,” you mumbled while fixing your shirt.

An awkward beat of silence passed while Tara looked between you and her sister with a sly smirk on her lips before she finally said, “I’ll leave you two to it,” and walked away.

“I’m sorry about that,” Sam said once Tara was gone. You turned to look at Sam, and you smiled at her swollen lips and blown pupils. You said nothing as you placed a final kiss on Sam’s lips that the older woman happily reciprocated.

“I should probably leave,” you mumbled against Sam’s lips, and she kissed you once more before pulling away. “Don’t forget your book,” Sam said while grabbing it for you.

“Thank you,” you replied with a tint of blush on your cheeks. Sam walked you to the door with her hand on the lower of your back, and you only wanted to run back into her room and throw Sam on her bed, but you doubted Tara would appreciate that.

When you reached the door, you placed a chaste kiss on Sam’s lips before opening up the door. “I’ll see you around?” You asked, afraid that this was a one-time thing.

Sam leaned against the doorframe, and she couldn’t contain the smile that pulled at her cheeks. “Of course, Y/N.”

You smiled at her and began walking down the hallway when Sam called out, “It's me and you, true blue.”

You placed a kiss on your pointer and middle finger before holding them toward Sam with a smile on your face. The woman laughed at your action and pretended to catch the fake kiss and her fist to her heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At home, you fall onto your couch and struggled to get your shoes off. Once they were off, you relaxed and pulled out the book and started reading it. When you ran your fingers over the pages, a small note fell out from the middle of the book and you moved to that page.

In the center of the page was a headline from Sub Rosa titled, ‘Evelyn Hugo and Celia St. James Slumber Parties,’ and you couldn’t help but laugh at the page.

When you opened up the note, written in the most beautiful penmanship said,

‘Want to go grab a milkshake with me sometime? I doubt we’ll find a place as good as Schwab’s, but we can try. We can also have ‘slumber parties’ of our own when Tara is away. ;)

All my love,

Samantha

Sam’

#sam carpenter #scream #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x female reader

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sourholland · 9 months

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timeless; thomas shelby

This idea has been plaguing my mind for days, I cannot get it out of my head. I’m not sure if I will make any more parts of this, it all depends on how I feel about it and if it is well received. The timeline of this is skewed on purpose, it’s also heavily based on Tommy’s time fighting during the war. Timeless by Taylor Swift was a huge inspiration.

Both you and Tommy became unlikely friends during childhood, only for you to realize you had always loved him. Tommy finds himself seeing you in a different light, only war being able to separate the two of you. (3.5k)

Thomas Shelby was the first and only boy you had ever loved.

It was 1902, Tommy was twelve years old. He played with your older brother, they went out into the street with the Shelby brothers and few other boys from the neighborhood and kicked a ball around. You were eight, trailing your brother Joseph at every chance you had.

When you met Tommy, it was because you had chased after your brother one August afternoon with the intention to join their game of kickball. The moment you approached the large group of prepubescent boys, Joseph looked absolutely mortified. Even though he was older than some of the boys, at fourteen, he still followed all of Tommy’s orders. This, you didn’t understand.

“Go home,” he leaned down to your level in gritted teeth.

“I just want to play, just one game,” you pleaded with him. “Please, Joey.”

“No,” he barked. “Y/N, you gotta get out of here.”

Feeling you face heat up, you were near tears and embarrassed in front of all of the older boys. Joseph would not let up, angry at you for trying to play with him and his friends.

“What the fuck d’she want?” Arthur bellowed towards your brother.

Peering over at him, you could tell that he was not very patient and was even older than Joseph. After Arthur had yelled, you turned back to go home. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you shuffled back to where you lived and went inside to play alone.

“Fuckin’ asshole is what you are,” Tommy shook his head a bit. “Game’s not fuckin’ hard or anythin’, Joe. She could have played.”

That was all they ever said again on the matter, your brother never brought it up to you that night and you never spoke of it to him. It wasn’t until later on that month that anyone had approached you about what happened that day in Small Heath.

You were sent out to pick up your mother’s cigarettes, dragging your feet along the dirt path with the coin in your hand. Every Wednesday, you made the same trek. Tommy Shelby came up on your right side as you walked one day, you saw a screwdriver sticking out of his pocket and nearly shuttered. The kids around the neighborhood spoke of him in hushed whispers, calling him a gypsy and saying he and his brothers carried razor blades around with them.

“You’re Joe’s sister, aren’t you?” He asked, peering over at you. “Tried to join in on a game a while back?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

He hummed in response, kicking dirt with his shoe as you both walked. He was much taller than you, though he was still quite narrow and scrawny. Truthfully, there was no denying that you had a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on him.

“Where’re you headed?” He finally spoke up.

“Grabbing my mum’s cigarettes,” you told him with a sigh. “She sends me out every week to pick some up.”

At the time, you had no clue why Tommy had followed you all the way to the shop and then walked you home. He never gave you any inclination either. Then, he did the same the next week. He came outside when you passed his house and you walked together. This occurred every week after the first.

Of course, you assumed this meant he liked you and this caused you to revel in the attention just a little. Tommy would talk to you about school and horses mostly, he was kind to you.

About six months after you and Tommy had developed this weekly routine, you mentioned something to your brother about it and he teased you about having a crush on Tommy. Making the mistake of saying he must’ve liked you back if he continued to walk along with you, Joseph was quite cruel in return.

“He doesn’t do it because he likes to,” Joseph laughed. “Father started pestering me to walk with you when he found out you were being picked on in school, bothered and such by the boys around. I started to give Tommy a bit of my allowance to walk with you so dad would finally get off my fucking back.”

You no longer walked to the shops on Wednesdays.

Tommy waited for you the next week, but you never left out front and began past his house. The week after, he did the same and you still did not come.

“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice came up the staircase on Thursday morning. “Come to the door.”

Tommy stood there in the walkway to your home, talking with your mother about something as you came down the steps. She left you to walk outside together and down the stairs into the street.

“You’re not getting your mum’s cigarettes anymore?” He asked you suddenly.

“No, I am,” you told him. “Just don’t want to walk with you anymore.”

He seemed taken aback by this, not used to the idea of you sticking your nose up at him and looking the other way when he tried to talk to you. Tommy knew you were smitten with him, he didn’t mind it. He thought you were nice enough, he liked to walk with you every week. He just didn’t see you the same way that you saw him, you were too young and too curious about certain things.

“Why’s that?” He shot back a little annoyed.

“Joey told me that he’s been paying you to do it, to make sure nobody messes with me.”

“And?” Tommy asked. “Doesn’t really fuckin’ matter if you ask me, whether he’s payin’ me or not.”

This made you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him and leaning against the brick of one of the alleyways you walked down. Tommy was confused as to why this bothered you so much, truthfully it didn’t really matter about the money to him. It helped him to buy cigarettes, that was all. He didn’t mind walking along with you, though. He would’ve done it without the payout.

“It matters to me,” you told him. “I don’t need looking after or anything like that.”

Turning on your heel, you thought that you’d been able to get the last word. Little did you know, nobody but Tommy got the last word. He only realized you had decided to go out on Saturdays, rather than Wednesdays. He told Joseph that he wouldn’t be requiring payment anymore and you walked in silence for over a month before you spoke to him on your walks again.

His stubbornness irked you, leaving you infuriatingly mad at his inability to leave you alone. Your cheeks went hot when he came around, stomach in knots whenever he would say your name.

Over the years, you had tried to shake your feelings for Tommy. This was mostly due to the fact that you had grown attached in a way that allowed you to call him a friend. By the time you were eleven, Tommy had taught you how to ride his horse. He spent an entire summer working with you. He was fifteen and definitely had plenty of better things to do, but he spent hours upon hours in the grueling sun with you.

“Tommy,” you said, laying sprawled out on a patch of grass one afternoon when you were thirteen and he was seventeen. “D’you want to come ‘round to mine for supper tonight? Mum asked me to invite you over.”

The last bit was a lie, you truly just wanted Tommy to join you. He inhaled shortly before propping himself up on his hand and looking over at you.

“Can’t tonight, m’sorry,” he apologized to you.

“Why not?” You asked curiously, assuming he’d saying something about having to be with his brothers or Polly.

“I’ve actually asked a girl out,” he confessed to you. “I’m planning to take her out tonight.”

This was one of the few times Tommy discussed his love life with you. Your friendship mostly consisted of doing other things, less intrusive things. He still really saw you as a younger sister type of figure in a way. He thoroughly enjoyed your company, but there was no denying his attraction to the girls he saw in school.

Once, Tommy told you about Arthur bringing home a prostitute. He didn’t tell you why he did it, or what they did. Only laughed it off, unbeknownst to him that you really didn’t know what a prostitute was. Joseph had called them whores, but you lived a rather sheltered lifestyle and none of the older people around you ever spoke about such things in front of you.

Tommy took girls out, he’d had several girlfriends as you approached your later teenage years. Your friendship, however, never faltered. When you were seventeen years old, you remember going out riding with him and telling him how you wanted to make something of yourself beyond what Small Heath had to offer. Planning to become a schoolteacher, Tommy had always admired this about you.

“Don’t you want to be something other than all this?” You asked him, alluding to the fact that he was growing more and more responsible for the Peaky Blinders. “I mean, I just wondered if you ever had other dreams.”

“I’d like to work with horses,” he told you quietly, running his hands over the mare’s mane.

“Why don’t you?” You questioned him. “I know you feel some sense of responsibility over your family, I think it’s one of your best traits. Don’t you ever want to just—I don’t know, live a less tormenting life?”

Tommy played with the reins, looking at you and shrugging. This was all he’d ever known, and all he would ever know. There was no Birmingham without Tommy Shelby, you knew it as well as anyone. It still hurt, though. Knowing he was playing with fire every day, testing God, as your mother had called it.

Once Tommy had grown more involved in the gang, your parents no longer allowed him to come over to the house. They detested you seeing him at all, your brother most of all. He settled quickly, marrying a woman and starting a family.

Tommy realized he loved you when he was twenty two years old. He’d known you for ten years, having called you his best friend for a decade. You were eighteen years old and had just begun training to become a teacher, you were commuting frequently and saw Tommy less and less.

It was that Christmas when you’d introduced him to the man you had been courting, his name was Michael. When he shook the man’s hand, Tommy felt something inside of him shift. Suddenly, you were no longer that little girl with scuffed shoes and long pigtails. He saw a young woman with ambition and heart, but you were no longer holding out for Tommy like you had for nearly ten years.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Arthur came up and clapped Tommy on the back of the shoulder. “S’fucking Christmas and you’re really bringing my spirits down.”

Tommy said nothing, downing more whiskey as he watched Michael spin you around in a dance. You were in a fit of laughter, smiling at him adoringly.

“Be serious, brother,” Arthur sighed, drunk and wondering how Tommy could truly be as he was. “You can’t tell me that you’re sitting over here in the corner drinking away your sorrows because she’s brought along some bloke.”

“Fuck off, won’t you?” Tommy shot him a look.

“Unbelievable,” Arthur walked away laughing.

It was completely and utterly unbelievable, not only to Arthur, but to Tommy as well. He’d spent years with you, practically praying that you would find someone, anyone to avert your feelings too. As you grew older, you also were able to hide your feelings and emotions better in Tommy’s case.

He watched you the entire night, nodding a farewell when he noticed you trying to approach him. He had no intention of speaking to Michael again, for fear that he may be physically ill.

His hope that it was a passing courtship died with what looked to be your close friendship. The two of you hardly saw each other anymore, animosity forming between you after the night of the Christmas party.

Months later, Tommy found himself at your apartment door when Ada had told him that you mentioned thinking Michael was planning to propose. He left to see you after midnight, walking the entire distance to where you lived and putting himself at your front door well past one in the morning.

“Y/N,” he called out as he knocked. “It’s Tommy.”

Opening the door, you were only left in your nightdress. Your hair was down completely, something Tommy had not seen since you were some years younger. He could not help but to notice the sheer material of the fabric, the buds of your nipples showing through.

“Tommy?” You yawned. “What’re you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” he told you.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”

Ushering him in, you let him shut the door behind him and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Tommy felt himself growing hard, looking at you in such a state.

“Y/N, don’t marry him,” Tommy blurted out in almost a whisper.

“What?” You looked at him, shocked. “What did you say?”

“Don’t marry him, don’t marry Michael.”

There was a stillness to the room, a silence that made you almost sick. His face was somehow stoic, but pleading at the same time. His eyes bored into your own, as if they were making it impossible to get a word out.

“He is a good man, Tommy,” you said. “He wants to take care of me, to make me happy.”

“With plenty of money and security, with a practical occupation and a good legacy to leave your children?” Tommy asked, sarcasm incredibly evident.

“Yes, Tommy. Fuck, I mean is that what you want me to say? That he can give me a good life? Why should it matter if he’s got money?”

“It shouldn’t, not if you love him,” Tommy told you. “Do you?”

It felt as if you were eight years old again, confronting Tommy about why he was walking with you in the first place. He looked at you with such yearning, such longing. It was as if he was begging you not to say yes, pleading with you not to have already devoted your heart to this man.

There was only one truth of the matter. Thomas Shelby was the only man that you had ever loved.

“Tommy, I have only ever loved you since I was eight years old,” you whispered.

As if unable to hold back any longer, Tommy embraced you fully and brought you into his arms. He kissed you furiously, without any doubt or question that you were meant for him. He let his hands run up and down your back and pulled you into his body.

Before you gave into your urge to let him rip your sheer nightdress off of you, you pulled away with swollen lips and eyes full of desire. This was not right, not until you spoke to Michael. Regardless of how you felt for Tommy, you could not do this to Michael.

“Not yet,” you whispered. “I gave a man my word, I need to speak to him before I can go any further here.”

Tommy respected your choice, he knew you wouldn’t want disloyalty on your conscience. He just nodded his head and placed a hand on your cheek gently, it was in these moments that he forgot about everything else.

Michael didn’t take the news very well at all, his ego was bruised and he pleaded for you to reconsider. He told you how deeply he loved you and how you had led him on, making him believe that you two would have a life together. He was right, you had encouraged him in all of his dreams of your future and you had done it without ever considering how it may end. It was selfish.

It took you weeks before you agreed to see Tommy again after Michael had left you feeling so guilty. Nights of tireless sleep, you would look up at the sky and pray to god that you were making the right decisions.

Over a year into your training, you would soon be able to do what you’d always dreamt of. Dark times approached, though. There were ghosts of whispers at every street corner, they spoke of war so feverishly. It was as if death was due to knock at the doors of families, stripping women of their husbands and children of their fathers.

The thought of this had left Tommy quite stoic most of the time, he held a monotonous view on the entire matter. Every time you had brought it up to him, he told you how he would be expected to fight on behalf of his country if it came down to it.

And so he did, when it came down to it and Britain had joined the War—The Shelby brothers and hundreds of other men in Small Heath joined as well.

“Tommy,” I sniffled as I watched him from across his bedroom pack a small bag of things. “I need you to promise me that you’ll come home, that you won’t die out there. They’re saying things about trench warfare, it’s all really terrifying—”

Tommy crossed the room and took your face in his hands, kissing you hard on the lips, as if it was the last time he would ever do so. A piece of you wondered if he believed that he would die out there.

“Please come home,” you breathed.

“I will come home,” he kissed you again. “I promise you.”

You planned to hold him to this promise. Having waited ten years for Tommy Shelby, you would wait however long more so long as he would come home to you.

It took two months before his first letter would come after you watched him depart on that large ship. Long months of kneeling at the foot of your bed, begging god not to take Tommy. Everything that was being said about the war was absolutely tragic, soldiers being blown to pieces or rotting below the earth in the trenches.

My Dearest Y/N,

I wish I was able to write to you sooner, I cannot say where I am for the risk of interception. Just know that I have never been in such conditions in my life, I spend my days underground. I have taken the role of a tunneler. Trench warfare has not been good to any of us, I find myself fantasizing of the end of this long hell.

I stare at your picture every night before I shut my eyes, dreaming of what it would be like beside you. There is no greater sorrow to me than your absence from my life at this point in time. I can only hope that it will not be for long.

Not long ago, myself and a group of men were gassed. I watched a fellow soldier go blind for nearly three days before he finally came out of it, only with some permanent damage. There are times when I have thought to myself, ‘Perhaps if I was hit, it would not be so bad. Perhaps even death is better than fighting in this war’.

Then I think of you. I think of the promises I made to you before I left to fight in this god awful war. I cannot understand how men are expected to live like this, nor how we will continue on. I was up to my knees in water last week, the trenches dark and desolate as we waited for the storm to pass. There is so much waiting these days.

I look forward to your letter.

With all of my love,

Tommy Shelby

#elle’s fics #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader

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gurugirl · 10 months

Text

A Good Boy | 1. Surrender

Summary: Harry's got the hots for his young stepmom and she's pretty fond of him too. But they're both trying really hard to be good. Loosely based on this ask.

A/N: This is stepmom!reader x virgin stepson!harry. There is a 7 year age gap and Harry met her at the age of 19. He is 21 in this story.

Word count: 21.4k words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, inappropriate relationship between a stepmom & virgin stepson, smut

A Good Boy Masterlist

Her husband, Leonardo, was the kind of man that could only be described as a provider. Not a lover, not a sweet man, not a gentle soul. Just a provider. Her mother asked her why she was marrying the older man, “Y/n he’s 15 years your senior! It’s preposterous! He’s rich but you can find real love…” She’d heard it all. But she was interested in having nice things. Being able to finish her art and history degree and go to the tennis club and shop with her girlfriends.

He also bought her the cutest little red Mercedes and the biggest diamond ring. And his house was- well it wasn’t just a house. It was an estate sat in the Hollywood hills near other celebrities and affluent humans (or robots she sometimes thought). She even had her own bedroom. It was an odd setup for sure, but a setup nonetheless.

Leonardo made it clear. He wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a pretty thing with a good head on her shoulders that he could fuck when he needed and buy nice things for. Someone to bring with him when he had to show face at events and parties who could hold a somewhat intelligent conversation. She could do that. And he wasn’t a bad-looking man either. He was fit and tall with a deep voice and his deep pockets were just the cherry on top.

Did this make her a gold digger? She supposed that yes, it did. But what of her husband? This was what he wanted too. No one was being tricked. Everything was very simple and clearly defined. Down to the fact that she could sleep with anyone she wanted as long as she was discreet and didn’t give him the details. The same went for Leo.

Though Y/n hadn’t been interested in sleeping with anyone else, she was certain Leo did on his business trips and “boys-only vacations” he often took with his friends.

Y/n wasn’t bothered by the lack of love or the fact that her marriage wasn’t conventional. She was getting everything she wanted and she was happy. Sure a little intimacy was nice but she had close friends and so far, that was all she needed.

. . .

“Leo! Marla is here with the Uber! I’ll see you later!” She shouted toward his study as she made her way out the door. It was Friday night. Girl’s night. Every other Friday she, Marla, Cyndee, and Gina met at Murphy’s Lounge to dance and drink a few too many martinis. It was always fun. Sometimes she flirted with some man who wanted to dance. But never anything more. She could have if she wanted. More. She could have done more but she never felt the need. No one interested her enough to make that sort of leap into partaking in the open aspect of her marriage.

The bar was full, as it usually was at 8 pm on a Friday night. Gina and Cyndee had already secured a table and had cocktails in hand when she and Marla got there.

And just like every time the four of them got together, they acted as if they hadn’t seen one another in ages. Sometimes they could be overly dramatic in their greetings but they genuinely appreciated one another.

“Okay. The first round is on me, but the rest is on Daddy Leo,” Cyndee bubbled out her words in laughter.

Y/n playfully smacked Cyndee’s arm, “Oh so now you’re calling my husband Daddy?!” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I am. He’s a Daddy, Y/n. Like, there’s no way you don’t call him Daddy when-“

Y/n placed her hand over Cyndee’s mouth, “Oh my god you’re too much sometimes! No more talk of Leo! The rest of the drinks are on him and we’ll leave it at that,” she laughed.

That was usually how it went. Leonardo picked up their girl’s night tab and paid for their taxis or Ubers.

“Okay. We’re just gonna get our drinks and we’ll be right back.” Marla swept Y/n off to the bar so they could order their usual drinks. For Y/n it was a nice stiff lemon drop martini.

Marla ordered a whisky sour, with extra orange slices and then rambled on about Ryan, her on-again, off-again boyfriend. They were on again at that moment but she was wearing thin, once again.

“Why do you do it to yourself, Marla? If you want to be done then just be done. You’ve tried and it hasn’t worked. I feel like you could do better anyway. Ryan’s nice but I think you two have run your course.”

“Ughh… I know, Y/n. God do I know. Easier said than done. There’s so much history, and friends in common. And we have a fucking dog together! I just… I don’t know.”

The bartender handed them their drinks and then Y/n gave the guy her credit card, “Please put this card in place of Cyndee Daniels tab. We’ll use this one instead.”

Josh was the bartender that evening. A cute college-aged young man with a bright smile who always remembered her name.

“Of course, Ms. Y/n. Will swap these out. As usual.” He winked.

She leaned over the bar as she took a quick sip of her martini while Josh went to retrieve Cyndee’s card. She looked down the bar at the faces of other patrons and suddenly was met with the clear green eyes of Leo’s son, Harry. Her stepson. She wasn’t sure if he’d seen her and it wasn’t as if Y/n had done anything wrong but she just hadn’t expected to see him there.

She leaned up again, peering around the woman sitting on the stool to her left and her eyes landed on the young man. Freshly shorn dark curls and a soft pink smile crooked up as he spoke animatedly to the guy sitting next to him. And just as she assumed he hadn’t seen her he turned and looked at her squarely, his lips moving as he spoke something to his friend then nodding in acknowledgment at Y/n before pulling himself off the stool he was on and making his way across the bar to her.

“Is that Harry?” Marla spoke as she leaned in.

“Yes, it is.”

Harry was a nice young man. He was polite, sometimes overly polite she thought, and he was charming. Y/n liked Harry. She didn’t know him all that well. He lived on campus at the university so she saw him rarely. But she did recognize that he’d cut his hair. He had long dark curls when she first met him. He looked like a bad boy, covered in tattoos with a permanent smirk on his face. But once she got to talking to him, she realized, he was a big sweetheart really. The long dark hair and tattoos were just a look. A style. Harry was a nice young man.

The truth was, all the girls joked about how attractive Leo and his son were. Both men were quite handsome. Y/n couldn’t deny that. Harry was tall like his father and built nicely. Long legs and a well-muscled chest. A great jawline and crystal green eyes that allured.

“Hi, Y/n. Marla,” Harry spoke as he looked from Y/n to Marla.

And that was another thing about him. He always remembered everyone’s name. He had met Marla maybe twice, yet here he was drinking beers at a bar and remembering the name of Y/n’s best friend whom he barely knew.

“Hi Harry,” Y/n smiled up at him, “Like the hair,” She reached up and whisked a finger into a short curl before bringing her hand back down into her own space.

Harry smiled broadly, a glorious dimple digging into his cheek as he raised an arm and ran his long fingers through his soft dark hair, “Oh! Yeah. Thank you. Got it cut a few weeks ago. Still getting used to it. Um, how are you doing?”

“Good. Girl’s Night, you know,” she shrugged and looked over at Marla who stood next to her, “We’re here every other Friday for some dancing and drinks,” when she turned her gaze back to Harry’s his soft eyes were intently watching her as she spoke. “Um, yeah. How are you? How’s school?”

Harry tipped himself forward to his toes and then lowered back down to his normal height, “Good. S’good. Already looking forward to Spring break,” he chuckled.

“Oh yeah! Me too. I’m not even in school anymore and I’m already making plans,” she chuckled.

Suddenly something dawned on Y/n. Her eyes went wide and then she squinted as she looked at her stepson, “Wait. You’re not 21. You’re too young to be here, Mister.”

Harry snorted a laugh and nodded, “I know. I know. But I’m turning 21 in two weeks. Figured I’d try out my fake ID once in my life. Before it’s too late,” he grinned.

“So you’ve never done this before?”

“Nope. First time. And of course, my stepmom is here when I do. Just my luck.”

Y/n laughed and her smile almost hurt her cheeks it was so wide.

A small jab to her side reminded her that Marla was still standing there, “Oh, sorry. Yeah. We should be heading back. We’re just over there if you want to stop by and say hi to the girls.” She pointed to the table where Cyndee and Gina were already watching the scene.

“Sure. Yeah. Of course. Um, it was really nice to see you, Marla,” Harry smiled gently at her and then looked back down to Y/n, “I’ll come by and say hi before I leave.”

The moment Y/n got to the table Cyndee pulled her arm, “Your stepson. Oof. He’s really attractive. Have you and him ever… you know?” She joked. Of course, Cyndee knew better.

“Oh stop it! Of course not! He’s a 20-year-old kid!” Y/n spoke in exasperation.

“You’re only 27, Y/n. You’re not much older. In fact, you’re closer to his age than you are to Leo’s,” Gina said.

Now Gina was usually the voice of reason so to have her on Cyndee’s side was ludicrous. Of course, she knew Cyndee was teasing but still.

Y/n took her seat and rolled her eyes as she took a healthy gulp of her sweet and tangy martini.

“And his haircut. God, he’s adorable like that. Damn,” Marla spoke next to her.

The music eventually began to grow louder and the martinis were going down far too easily. Especially after dancing and working up a sweat away from her seat. But one thing that didn’t change through the night was that her eyes kept finding Harry’s. It was like she couldn’t stop glancing over at him. But it didn’t help that every time she dared to peek he was looking at her already.

She couldn’t be sure that he was watching her dance but there was something about just the idea that he might be that had her swaying her hips a little more sensuously and using her hands to rub down her body like she was some kind of sexpot. But in truth, her dance moves were definitely subpar. But three martinis will tend to make one feel unnecessarily bold.

Y/n decided on just one more drink. A fourth martini to round out the night, plus she wanted to walk up to the bar near Harry and talk to him a little bit more. Just a friendly little tease about how he was only sitting and not dancing. Even his friend had gotten off the stool and danced with a young woman on the dance floor for a bit.

“You’re not really making the most of this special night, Harry,” she elbowed at his arm gently as she leaned over the bar to wave at Josh.

“What do you mean?” Harry’s eyes were a little red and he was quite obviously a little drunk.

She looked down at his wetted lips and back up to his pretty eyes, “You’re not even dancing. Just sitting here like a lump drinking beer after beer.”

“Ms. Y/n, another lemon drop?” Josh spoke as he put his hands on the bar top in front of her.

“Yes, please, Josh, and close it out too. I think all the girls are done for the night.” She laughed.

She turned back to look at Harry, “So no girls here you want to dance with? Even your buddy got out there a little bit. Where is he by the way?”

Harry turned around and looked over his shoulder for his friend and shrugged, “Maybe shagging in the bathroom. Haven’t seen him in a while now that I think of it. And no. No girls here I want to dance with.”

Y/n pouted and tilted her head as she reached up to touch his hair again, “I’ve seen a bunch of pretty girls around your age here, Harry. Some even checking you out. You should get out there and dance a little. Really fully experience Murphy’s Lounge,” she looked over her shoulder and then leaned in to speak quietly, “It’s your last chance with your fake ID,” she smiled as she tugged his curl the smallest bit.

Harry smirked, “Child abuse!” Craning his neck away from her fingers, he patted at his hair as if the tiny tug had hurt.

She rolled her eyes as Josh returned with the drink and her card, “See you in a couple weeks.” He smiled at her before returning to the other customers.

Harry’s features became serious again, “You know him?”

Y/n sipped her martini and nodded, “Yeah. We’re here often enough. So, yeah.” She shrugged keeping her eyes on her adorable stepson. Okay, maybe it was more like adorably handsome stepson, but still.

“Come. I’m gonna put this away,” she lifted her card upward as she motioned him to follow her, “And you and I are going out there to dance a little. We’ll find you someone cute to groove with a little.”

She expected Harry to protest a bit but he didn’t. He stepped in behind her and followed her to her table with his beer in hand. He stayed close to her as she bent down to slip her credit card into her purse. The security in the room always watched their table so no one took their things or tampered with their drinks (and the nice little tip Y/n, by way of Leo, didn’t hurt either).

“Leave your beer here. We’re gonna need our hands free!” she giggled as she pointed at the table.

“You’re okay to leave your drinks out like this? Thought that was a big no-no.”

Y/n looked in the direction of the man standing a few feet away, “He’s watching over the table. Now come on!”

The floor was packed with warm bodies moving and gyrating. The music was loud and the rhythmic base could be felt underfoot. She’d long lost sight of the girls as she began to sway and raise her arms upward.

Harry stayed close to his stepmom’s side and shuffled around a bit. His body was a bit stiff but he laughed when Y/n grabbed his hands and made him spin, “Loosen up a bit! Come on, Harry!”

Rolling his eyes he grinned and began to dramatically move about, trying to feel the beat and push down how awkward his movements felt.

Y/n kept her hands on his to encourage him to move with her and they both laughed as Harry began to relax into it a bit. His big smile only widened as the song was switched up to something that felt quite naughty and suggestive.

She released his hands because it felt like he was getting the hang of it. Not to mention she was beginning to enjoy the way his big hands fit around hers. And that couldn’t happen.

She turned around and continued swinging her hips and, moving with the rhythm as best she could. Long moments went by and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to get back into the swing of dancing and feeling the freedom and excitement of her night.

A hand pulled at her hip from behind and she opened her eyes and turned to see her stepson towering over her from behind. She hadn’t expected the sudden grip he had on her so she turned in confusion causing his palm to fall away. Harry looked over her shoulder and then dipped down to speak into her ear, “A man came over and was just about to try something with you. Wanted to discourage him a bit. Sorry.”

Y/n followed where he was looking and there was indeed a man there looking at her. And it wouldn’t have been too out of the ordinary for this to happen. She dealt with these things well usually. Sometimes she’d dance a little and flirt a little but that was it. It didn’t bother her. It was all in fun.

She chuckled and pulled at Harry’s shoulder to speak in his ear, “You don’t have to worry about me, Harry. I can take care of myself. I’m a big girl. But thank you.”

Harry licked his lips and turned his face toward her to speak, “I know you’re all grown up. Just didn’t want to see that with my own eyes is all.” His words were spoken close to her ear, his deep baritone vibrating from her neck and over her ear as she turned to look at him, only he didn’t move his face away and their gazes connected for a moment longer than felt innocent.

She swallowed and a small smile plucked upward on her lips, “Okay. Do you want to stay close then? Protect from the predators while I dance?” Her smile widened and she laughed but Harry’s smirk felt like something just the opposite of funny as he looked down over her face and to her neck and then over her lips.

“I’m not going anywhere,” his smirk remained as he shook his head and then in a surprise motion turned her around to face away and put both hands at her hips as they began dancing together.

She could feel his heat from behind her and his fingers held onto her hips possessively but she liked it. Especially when her hips moved to the beat and Harry’s hips moved behind her. He wasn’t pressing himself into her backside but she could feel him moving with her. He was keeping a polite distance. Though, everything that was happening was very inappropriate.

It was inappropriate because she liked it. Because this attractive young man behind her was looking at her in a way she noted was not innocent. Because she’d been obviously flirting with him at the bar. Because Harry was her stepson.

When the beat dropped low and the song slowed to something even more provocative and playful they both slowed and she felt Harry’s thumbs on the bit of skin exposed between the bottom hem of her blouse to just above her skirt’s waistline. His grasp on her skin was burning into her flesh, his fingers gently brushing and then squeezing at her.

“You’re not a bad dancer,” Harry remarked into her ear and she felt his chest press into her back.

And without thinking too deeply about it, or perhaps it was the martinis that left her so uninhibited, she dropped her head back and toward his mouth and felt his lips at her ear, “I’m a terrible dancer. But thank you anyway.” She laughed.

Harry chuckled into her ear, not backing away from how she’d leaned into him but instead pulling at her just enough that his fingers pinched her waist and she could feel him smile as he spoke against her ear, “Nothing about you is terrible, Y/n.”

His deep tone gave her a chill and goosebumps traveled down her neck and over her bare arms. Her good sense had been momentarily suspended as she smiled and dared to move her bottom into his hips.

When she heard his groan in her ear she closed her eyes and placed her hands over his, pressing his hands flat over her waist so she could feel his long fingers under hers, feel his warm palms digging into her skin.

“Better stop. I’m getting a little,” Harry suddenly backed off, his hands releasing her hips and she turned to look up at him as he ran a hand through his hair. He was flushed and his pupils were large, making his soft greens appear dark and heavy as he looked at her with an unmistakable glint of lust. She was sure she looked the same.

“Of course. Yeah. It was fun, though,” she smiled as she began to head back to the table. Harry followed.

They slid into the booth and took their drinks, letting the music of the bar fill in the gaps of their silence.

Y/n realized she was wet. She scolded herself inwardly. Her stepson was off-limits. Hell, to her most men were off limits because she was married (despite her open marriage). But especially Harry. She didn’t know if she should apologize or just let everything that had happened slip away without acknowledgment.

They were both drinking and so that had something to do with her behavior. With his. But mostly hers because she was the stepmom. She should have known better.

“Sorry we didn’t find you a cute girl to dance with,” she offered as she rounded her eyes and grinned, trying to make light of everything and ignore what had just happened between them.

Harry shook his head and looked down at his beer, then shifted his eyes to hers, “I think we did find me a cute girl to dance with,” he licked his lips and huffed a laugh shaking his head again as he lifted his beer.

“I’m done done done! Some guy bought me two shots. On top of the four cocktails I had. I’m fucked. I need to get out of here so I can crash into bed. You okay to leave with me?” Marla was suddenly plopping down at the table as she slurred her speech.

Y/n laughed, glad for the interruption. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Harry’s comment, “Yeah. We can get out of here. Where’s Gina and Cyndee?”

Marla pointed at the edge of the dance floor. Two men flanked them with drinks in hand.

“As you can see, they’re fine.”

Marla, Y/n, and Harry stopped by to say goodbye to Cyndee and Gina before leaving the loud bar. The night air was sobering as she used her Uber app to call for a taxi. Harry stayed with them, like the gentleman he was until their ride showed up.

Marla flung herself into the car as Y/n squeezed Harry’s arm, “Thanks, Harry. I’ll see you… I don’t know when, but this was fun! Yeah? Oh! It’ll probably be for your birthday, right? Party at our house. That’s right,” Y/n was mostly talking to herself. They were throwing him a party. Of course, it was going to be a big bash. Tons of college kids and family and drinking since he was turning 21.

Harry nodded, “Yeah. Weekend after next. Saturday. I think I’ll come over Friday night and stay the whole weekend.”

. . .

Harry had always liked Y/n. She was sweet to him from the start. Right off he could tell she wasn’t like Leonardo’s other girlfriends. He’d gone through a lot of them and when he decided he liked Y/n enough to keep around, Harry was genuinely happy about it. His dad was kind of cold and overly structured at times but he always took care of his family and Harry wouldn’t mind having Y/n around. He was 19 when he met her.

Harry’s mom left Leo when he was just a boy. She remarried years later and Harry hadn’t seen her so happy ever. He chalked it up to his dad’s standoffish behavior. He barely showed Harry, love, even. But It was okay for Harry that way. His mom was warm and raised him well. She showed him more love than he’d ever need in a lifetime. She made up where his dad lacked.

So for that, Harry did feel a bit sad, for Y/n, who had such a bright smile and contagious laugh, to marry such a cold creature as his father. The kind that his mother left. His friends joked that Y/n was a gold-digger and they urged him to try and mess around with her. See how far he could take it. But that was out of the question. Not because his stepmom wasn’t smoking hot, but because she was his stepmom. There was just so much wrong with that.

It did irk him, though, that he found her so pretty. But it wasn’t just that. She was smart too. She was easy to talk to and she could keep up with Harry’s little goofy jokes and she never took herself too seriously. Despite having her lips painted red and wearing high-fashion couture courtesy of Leonardo Styles, she was fun and kind.

Harry also benefited from his dad’s money, though. Just because he opted to live with his mother until college didn’t mean he didn’t have everything he wanted. A nice car, nice clothes, vacations with friends, concerts, sporting events, the newest cellphone. Leo didn’t bat an eye if Harry wanted something. And eventually even gave him a credit card to use for anything he wanted.

Yeah, Leo Styles was fucking wealthy. Dirty wealthy. The kind that people hate to see because it’s so excessive and unnecessary that it’s ugly.

But what could Harry do? His dad was a little cold and filthy rich. He didn’t control how his dad dealt with his money, though plenty of people also lumped Harry in with all that. Assumed he was some spoiled rotten brat who’d grow up like his father.

And that was just the thing, though. His dad wasn’t mean or bad per se. He was just rich because of the Styles’ family fortune. And he rarely showed any emotion. His dad did do nice things for the community and donated to good causes, threw fundraisers, and funded schools for children with special needs and gymnasiums for the local children who didn’t have a place to go and play freely.

And he wanted a wife that was smart and pretty. Someone with a brain who could handle a good conversation with grace. Harry understood the arrangement well. There was no love involved but it was a marriage of convenience for both of them. No harm, no foul. Harry didn’t mind it. Others seemed to have heavier opinions about it, though.

“Damn, Harry. You gotta do something about that. She keeps looking over here at you. While she looks like that? Let’s get your v-card taken care of once and for all.”

“Stop it, Jay. She’s my stepmom.”

“So? You told me yourself she’s just married to your dad for the money-“

“No, that’s not what I said. And it doesn’t matter what kind of thing she and my dad have going on. It’s not gonna happen.”

“God look at her. She’s fucking fine, Harry. She wants you too. I can tell. Look you don’t have to take my advice but this one,” he said as he gestured toward Y/n, “She’s a tiger in bed. I guarantee. Look at her move. Bet she could show you a thing or two.”

Harry shoved Jay and shook his head as he looked away before he was caught staring at his stepmom again.

She was hot. Her skirt was short and her little top kept riding up so he could get the tiniest peek of her waistline each time she raised her arms. Harry didn’t want to let his mind wander to those kinds of places. He’d already recognized how gorgeous she was. Liked her personality and how funny she was. If she were younger and not his stepmom, maybe. Maybe.

“Rebecca’s over there. I’m gonna go dance with her a bit. Sheila is too. You should come out and dance! Meet someone! Get laid!”

Harry sighed and sipped his beer as he leaned away from Jay’s arm, “No thanks.”

He did want to get laid of course. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have found a willing participant. It just hadn’t ever happened. He’d messed around a bit but in all honesty, Harry had a hard time wrapping his mind around a quick fling or something that was only sex. He liked connection and love. Wanted that whole thing with someone before getting to that point in the relationship. He knew it was silly to take it so seriously. And it wasn’t like keeping his virginity was his goal. It was just that he wanted it to be with someone special. Yeah, he was a bit of a sap like that.

But no one would know it really. That Harry was a big sap. A virgin at almost 21. Only his closest friends knew and they were sworn to secrecy. People assumed Harry had had lots of sex. That he was fucking people left and right. Because Harry was a flirt. He was super smooth and confident and charming. The kind of man people would imagine just had tons of sex. Plus he was incredibly attractive.

When Y/n was suddenly stood next to him at the bar, sweat at her hairline and soft lips with a cute smile as she spoke to him closely about how he was just sitting at the stool, not making the most of his first time in a bar with a fake ID, he felt his stomach twist. Maybe it was her scent, or the alcohol coursing through his veins, or the way she kept looking at him while she was dancing. Whatever it was, he knew he’d just moved into dangerous territory in his mind.

But she pulled at his hair and licked her lips and stood close so she could speak in his ear and he was easily convinced to finally get up and go dance with her.

Dancing wasn’t really a big deal to him. He wasn’t shy to dance. He honestly didn’t care all that much what people thought of him. He just didn’t want to get out there and dance while she was dancing like that. While she was looking at him in that way. Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Something had slipped out of its normal position for Harry that night. He was thinking of his stepmom in very inappropriate ways and he was powerless to stop the indecent thoughts he had about her body and her lips and her voice. It was so wrong.

When he turned her around and put his hands on her hips he allowed his fingers to wander over her skin to the very spot he’d been watching each time she lifted her arms. But this time he pushed the material up to give the pads of his fingers access. And she didn’t stop him.

Her hair smelled good and when he spoke against her ear she got goosebumps. Fucking goosebumps from his voice in her ear.

But then the unthinkable happened and she pressed herself into his front. And luckily she was just off to the left a bit because had she been to the right another inch or so she’d have felt him. He was thick under his dark jeans and it was because of his stepmom.

Her skin and her lips and her hair and the way she smelled and reacted to him. But he had to stop. He backed away knowing that it was the smart move. Hating that it was the smart move.

He came down the shower drain imagining Y/n on her knees with his cock down her throat, gagging and urging him to go in deeper that night after the bar. He closed his eyes and yanked himself and he orgasmed so embarrassingly fast to the image of her. His stepmom. That was the first time he’d masturbated to Y/n’s image. And it felt dirty. It felt forbidden and disgusting.

But then he did it again the following evening in his bed. He was thankful for having his own room in the frat house. Stroking his cock as his thighs quivered and his head was thrown back into the pillow under him, imagining Y/n riding his cock and showing him what she liked had him gasping as he came all over himself.

He tried to move on and get things back to normal in his brain about her. The way they were before that night at the bar. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Part of that was because of how she responded to him, flirted with him. The way she was looking at him and how she danced with him. He knew he didn’t imagine it. She was into it. And now that he knew that… well, the result left Harry tugging one out to his stepmom every night thereafter.

. . .

The party was going to be big. Leonardo told Harry to invite everyone he wanted. And of course, he and Y/n invited their friends too.

There was a DJ, a catering staff with bartenders and lots of presents.

Y/n was helping with the setup. Friday was busy for her, the day before the party. She’d almost forgotten about Harry mentioning he’d be coming on Friday to stay the whole weekend. Almost.

In fact, she hadn’t forgotten at all. She tried pushing that memory down but it was still there, underneath everything. Her nerves were wild as she helped direct some of the landscapers and people bringing gifts in from the guests. Tables and chairs, and a dance floor laid near the area where the DJ would be set up. Speakers were placed all over the estate so music could be heard no matter where anyone was.

She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come that evening as he said.

But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.

Looking down at the placement of the dance floor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.

She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.

In the early afternoon, the landscapers had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.

But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully, before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.

The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.

She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.

Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”

She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.

“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.

Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.

Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”

Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted creep. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.

She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.

Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!

Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…

Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.

Knocking at his cracked-open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.

Porn.

He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.

Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed

Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…

She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“

But he stopped short, a sharp inhaled breath into his lungs cutting off his words. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.

“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“

Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”

Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.

He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”

“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”

Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.

“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, causing him to look back down at her, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“

“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”

She let go of his arm and she felt like she could faint. She grasped onto the door jamb and wobbled as she looked down at her feet to steady herself and then back up at Harry.

“Are you okay? Here, let’s sit.” Harry took her arm from the door jamb and slowly guided her to her sit down on his bed where he promptly shut his laptop and moved the forsaken thing away from them, hidden from view.

“I’m okay,” she put her hands up and blinked her eyes as she turned to look at Harry next to her on the bed. “I didn’t expect that is all. That it had anything to do with- I just…”

“But that night at the club. That was… well… haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I know that’s inappropriate.”

Y/n bit her bottom lip and nodded before taking a deep breath, “Yeah. I guess. Me too.”

“You too? What?”

She turned to look at his verdant crystal eyes, “I can’t stop thinking about it. And it is inappropriate. And I take all the blame. It was my fault that it even got as far as it did. I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry shushed her and took her hand, “No. Don’t be sorry. This isn’t just on you. I’m an adult too, Y/n. This is on me just as much. So, I’m sorry. I feel like I probably pushed it that night. I was the one that touched you and made up that story about that guy.”

She recollected that night and the short conversation they had about the guy that was trying to dance with her when Harry had put his hand on her hip. The man was looking at her so she thought what he said was true. She hadn’t even questioned it, “You mean that man… that he wasn’t… you did…” she couldn’t finish her thought. It was. A lot. That revelation felt dense with just enough muscle to peel away some kind of layer of wool that had been placed securely over the situation in safety.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know what got into me that night. I really didn’t mean for any of this- It’s… my fault. I started it. I’m really sorry.”

She felt like they were somewhat on even ground now. He’d done that. She wouldn’t absolve herself of blame. No, not at all. She was still the heavy in this situation. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel exonerated by his admission. She was seven years older and his stepmom. She was ultimately to blame.

“God, Harry. Please. I’m…” she paused. His gaze on hers was hard to break. His soft mint eyes made him appear so pure and blameless. But then his deep raspberry lips, darkly pigmented against his face were seductive. Harry was like a siren. An enchanter. He was beautiful.

“No. You’re… amazing and I’ve just gone too far. It’s okay. This is silly,” he laughed and disconnected their eye contact as he looked downward, “This is-“ he looked back up at her and felt his heart thrum hard in his ribs, “silly.” His last word, just a whisper. A word he didn’t believe.

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on his, “And you surely have other options anyway. It’s just a phase. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to pick from. The charmer you are,” she chuckled lightly trying to lighten the mood and suggest it was temporary. That he could be with any young college girl he wanted. Probably had someone lined up for his birthday party even.

Harry’s brows cinched together and he shook his head, “No. I don’t. You don’t know this about me but… I’m actually…” he sighed and looked upward not wanting to see her expression when he told her, “virgin.”

That was not what she expected. Not at all. First of all, Harry Styles was beautiful. He was a sight! A paragon on legs with a gorgeously calming voice and the sweetest disposition anyone could ever dream of. He was perfection if there ever was such a thing. His beauty went before him but his grace and kindness were what made him so appealing. So utterly attractive. How was it that this astonishingly amazing man, absolutely as nice as anyone could ever be, was a virgin? Not to mention he had his dad’s money at the helm. There was nothing about Harry that wouldn’t get him laid in an instant.

“Virgin? Seriously?” She stuttered, “Umm… but not that there’s anything wrong with that…” She almost didn’t believe him as she asked. They’d never discussed this of course, but in her mind, it was quite impossible that he had never had sex.

“It’s true. Yeah. S’embarrassing but I really want it with… not just anyone. I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t done anything… but I’m not like I’m sleeping with whomever I can.”

Y/n nodded. She got it. As a female that was a conundrum she had as well.

Well, it was slightly different but the basics of why she didn’t just go and sleep with anyone was the same when she was his age. It was because she felt deeply about things. Wanted it to mean something. It didn’t always after she learned that others didn’t feel the same way she did. She learned that getting hurt was sometimes part of relationships. Part of sex. As sad as that was.

“Oh.” She smiled at him and spoke softly, “That’s how I used to feel too. Thought it should be special. But then when I thought it was going to be, the guy didn’t care so it turned out it was only special for me. I realized it didn’t really matter what I wanted. I can’t control what everyone around me wants.”

Harry felt his heart pinch at her words. That wasn’t fair. And that was exactly what had him so worried. That he would give it his all only to have the other person feel as if it was nothing important. Just a moment in time.

But it was a big moment in time. It should mean something. Both people should feel its presence and its significance.

They remained silent for a moment as Harry threaded his fingers in between Y/n’s and licked his lips, “Are we alone?”

She turned her head to look at the man. The whole scenario was unbelievable to her. They’d both admitted attraction and that they’d overstepped boundaries. They also both felt bad about it all. But what did that mean? Did that mean she should just stand up and tell him not to worry about it and not to bring it up ever again? Tell him she won’t say anything if he doesn’t say anything? Give him a hug and a pat on the back?

Yes. That is exactly what she should do.

Unhooking her fingers from his she leaned in and hugged him before standing up from his bed, “Your dad will be home late. So, it’s probably better if I go downstairs and do something to keep me busy. This,” she moved her fingers to point at him and then herself, “we can just chalk up to some bad timing and hormones or whatever. Don’t worry about it. I think it’ll be better for us to just pretend it never happened.”

Harry stood up abruptly, his height overtaking Y/n’s significantly with how close he stood, “Just like that? Just forget that we both said those things?”

She took a step back as she kept her eyes on his, “Yeah. Don’t you think that’s for the best? I mean, Harry… I’m your stepmom.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and frowned as he put his hands on his hips and moved away from the bed. He walked toward his door and turned back, “You can forget it and pretend it never happened if you like. I won’t be, though. I’m not going to say anything but I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen either.”

Her heart dropped. She hoped he’d just brush it all off and try to move on. That was the best way to go about all of this. It’s not like they could have some kind of affair anyway. He was too young and his dad was her husband. It would be crazy to do such a thing.

“I mean… what did you want here? I feel like moving on is the best thing for both of us.”

Harry breathed out an incredulous laugh and shook his head, “I don’t know. Honestly. Thought…” he looked down at his shoes, “No one needed to know. No one would know.”

“No one needed to know what?”

Harry lifted his gaze up to Y/n’s, “If we… kissed or… anything. It would be easy. Dad’s never home. And you’re so-“ he blinked his eyes and she watched as he honed in on the spot where her breasts were under her t-shirt. She hadn’t put a bra on before slipping the shirt on in her haste to wish him a happy birthday, “Kind and patient. Feel like that would be really nice.”

She felt like her jaw was on the floor. Felt like that would be really nice. She couldn’t argue that. It would be really nice. A man with a warm heart in her bed. Someone she could show what she wanted without worry that he’d be offended. A man that looked like Harry. Young and with all that stamina. She imagined that he probably would want it a lot, especially now that she knew he was a virgin. That he’s been so neglected and that the moment he got a taste of it he’d never want to stop…

She shook her head before she allowed her mind to go too far into that hole, “We can’t, Harry. You understand that right,” she bit her lip. She wanted to grab him by his hips and smear her mouth over his as she pushed him into his bed and had them reenact the stepmom and stepson share a bed porno he had up on his laptop.

Harry nodded, his face set in an unreadable expression, “Of course, Y/n. I wouldn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want. I’m sorry.”

She hated that he kept saying sorry. That he felt bad for any of this when it was on her as well, “Please, Harry. Stop saying you’re sorry. You’re not to blame. I just think we should keep level heads here. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

His breathing deepened so much that Y/n could see the way his chest rose and fell under his shirt. She noted his gaze taking her in, not just her eyes, but her lips and her neck, her hips where the shirt stopped and her leggings showed under, “Oh… Y/n…” he shook his head, “I’ve definitely not been innocent. If my porn history isn’t enough to apologize for then my dirty thoughts surely are. You’d certainly agree that I should be apologizing if you knew the sorts of things I fantasize about with you.”

Y/n looked down. She couldn’t take his saturating gaze and these admissions any longer, “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. It’s okay that it’s private and as long as it’s not acted on… you shouldn’t feel bad.”

“Of course.” Harry gestured toward the hallway as he looked at Y/n. There was nothing more to be said on the matter. Harry knew she was right.

She nodded as she exited his room and heard him close the door behind her as she stepped out into the hallway. All she wanted to do was to tell him happy birthday. But instead, she left confused and frustrated and far more guilty than she had been before. She had no idea how to navigate this. But she only knew that no one could know their secret.

. . .

The caterers arrived before everyone else to get things set up. Small little aluminum warmers lit to keep the food warm. The bar was set up with a washing station and glassware (none of that plastic stuff Leo had said). The sound equipment was tested. Everything was going to be amazing, Y/n thought. For Harry’s 21st birthday party, this was surely going to be a great time.

She hadn’t seen Harry after their encounter in his bedroom the day before. He’d been quiet the rest of the evening. He didn’t even come down to eat.

Leo arrived home just after midnight and today he was working a little, tying up loose ends for something Y/n didn’t bother to pay attention to. Her mind was elsewhere anyway. Her thoughts kept wandering to Harry. Was he okay? Certainly, he wouldn’t be too upset. They hadn’t even really done anything. And they shouldn’t! Plus he was so young and he would have plenty of time to find someone special. She couldn’t be that for him. Certainly not.

Just before she’d had the chance to run upstairs to her room to get her party outfit in order she caught a glimpse of Harry as he was leaving the kitchen. His dark curls were messy. He looked like he had just gotten up.

She laughed to herself. A typical 21-year-old. Sleeping half the day away so he could stay up late and party with his friends tonight. She felt like that was a good sign.

Her dress was modest and what she deemed appropriate. She had originally selected something different for the party, but after her talk with Harry the night before, she went a more conservative route. Perhaps he’d ignore her when he saw the other pretty girls his age that he knew at the party. She hoped there would be someone else that caught his eye. Someone that could make him forget all about whatever it was that happened between them.

She pulled her hair into a low bun, smoothing the bits that always tended to poke out from a sleek do. It was easy to keep her hair this way. And it was more mature too she felt. Rather than keeping her hair down in styled waves or curls, the low bun was a nod to her stage in life. The married woman with a stepson stage.

She decided to not wear perfume or lipstick either. She wanted to do anything she could to fade into the background for the party. She’d be running around anyway, at the beck and call of the people working the party should they need anything. She knew it was probably unnecessary as the people they’d hired were all professionals and some of the best in the industry. But she felt she would need to keep herself busy.

The first to arrive were Leo’s parents (Harry’s grandparents) and then Harry’s mom, Anne. Anne had been around a lot for the last few days helping Y/n get everything sorted. Y/n was actually quite fond of Anne. Harry’s mother was a saint. She loved that her relationship with Leo’s ex was so good.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Anne smiled as she backed away from the hug Y/n had given her.

“Oh! I think he might still be getting ready. I believe he slept in late. Saw the back of his head about an hour ago and he appeared to be half asleep,” Y/n laughed.

As more of the guests arrived, Y/n noted the young women and men Harry had invited. Plenty of attractive and exciting college kids.

The music was started and drinks were being served but she still had not seen Harry. Nor Leo for that matter (though she wasn’t surprised to have not seen Leo – probably absorbed in his work).

Going inside and tiptoeing her way up toward Harry’s bedroom to urge him to come out and join his own party she found that his door was closed. She applied two knocks to the wood as she put her ear in close to hear anything.

When it was silent and the door didn’t open, she knocked again. Harder, “Harry? You in there? Party’s getting started without you!”

Suddenly the door was pulled open and before her was her stepson looking like he was ready to kill. Not kill in the way that was violent, but kill with his looks. Kill with the way he’d dressed and left half his buttons undone at the top, a sheer milky white shirt with cream embroidered flowers draping away from his chest and allowing peeks of his tattoos. Black, well-fitted jeans and black Chelsea boots. His signature cross necklace hung between his pecs.

“Wanted to be fashionably late. You know… birthday boy and all,” he raised his brows unamused at Y/n and she felt the condescension drip from his words, “After you… step mummy,” he gestured for her to lead the way.

She was stunned by his tiny attitude. It wasn’t much. He hadn’t been particularly rude but his tone and his cheek were new. He was normally very polite with her. Very sweet and all smiles.

She nodded as she began to head down the stairs, Harry behind her. The moment they walked out to the garden Harry headed in a direction away from her. Without a word. But that was good. He should go and have fun with his friends.

Y/n had invited Marla to the party, which she was thankful for. Marla kept her mind off the tall young man of the hour.

“I can never get over how fantastic this place is. And look at all this,” Marla waved her wine glass above her head as she gestured toward the decorations, “This looks magical! When I fall in love and get married, can I have my wedding here?”

“You have to find the right man first. Ryan’s not it.” They laughed together.

Y/n wasn’t nearly as busy as she thought she’d be. As she hoped she’d be. She drank a few glasses of wine and checked on the guests but Anne had most things under control as did the staff that were taking care of everything.

She kept wishing she had more to do because her eyes kept searching for Harry. She spotted him over and over again. He was drinking whisky, with his friends laughing, and of course, there was one girl he was talking to.

She scolded herself at the touch of jealousy she felt. The girl was Harry’s age. Lovely young thing. But when she saw just the two of them talking as Harry had a hand flat on the bench behind the girl she hated how close they were standing. How flirty he looked. She especially didn’t like that the girl would reach out for his buttons and pluck at them every so often.

But why should she be jealous? He was a 21-year-old guy and he was her stepson. It was quite silly to feel anything other than happiness for him.

The cherry on top was after Leo gave his speech and everyone toasted and then the DJ began to play house music. The dance floor was packed and Y/n watched on as Harry and the young girl danced together, much in the same way he’d danced with her two weeks prior. His lanky body moved behind hers, his hand at her hip, his face close to her ear as he said god-knows-what to her.

She wanted to go out and dance too. There was no reason for her to not dance. Just because Harry was out there, enjoying his time, she didn’t need to wallow at the edge and watch the fun.

“Let’s dance!” Y/n pulled Marla with her to the dance floor.

It was just like their normal Friday night outings and since the night before they didn’t get to go out because Y/n had been busy with the party setup, tonight would be girl’s night for her and Marla.

The two laughed and moved their bodies to the beat, holding their wine glasses as level as they could so it didn’t slosh out.

She was finally having fun. Finally felt the anxiety and the guilt melt away as she danced and drank a little more wine. She had been silly to be jealous or upset. There was no reason for any of that.

But then she saw his eyes on hers. He hadn’t been looking at her all night. She figured that was for the best. But now he was watching her as he danced with the girl in the white mini-dress. His gaze was cold. His face set in a glowering smirk as he spoke something to the girl. She watched as the young woman leaned her head back to look up at Harry and his lips nipped at the space just below her ear.

She felt she could vomit. It was too much. She thought she was okay but she didn’t want to see that. Didn’t want to watch as Harry kissed anyone else and looked at her with such disdain. Was he mad at her?

She excused herself to Marla and rushed into the big house, moving into the kitchen to set her glass down. There were people in the house. Chatting, laughing, and some even dancing inside.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she leaned over the island and tried to calm her brain. What was she doing? What was wrong with her?

Warm hands covered the tops of her shoulders and the deep rasp of her stepson was in her ear before she could even open her eyes, “I need to talk to you.”

She jumped in surprise and turned around quickly as Harry ticked his head toward the stairs and he began heading toward them. She followed behind, moving up the steps with him and she assumed he would want to talk in the hallway or his room but he continued walking past his door and to the other side of the house toward her bedroom.

Without even a pause he opened her door and entered her room as if he owned it. As if it were his room.

She followed in behind him, her face set in confusion. She couldn’t know what he was going to say or what he wanted to talk about.

“Was offered a blowjob,” he blurted out as he paced. “From Leslie. She’s cute and I’m… anyway… I wanted to tell you,” he stopped and looked at Y/n, moving toward her, “in case you wanted to… maybe you’d changed your mind or-“ he ran a hand through his hair.

“What?” She was stunned, “You… why are you telling me?”

“Because I want… you, Y/n.” He said with finality.

Harry was stood close with his pink lips parted as he looked down at Y/n. He was serious. He was dead serious and she was surprised. The young girl was pretty and she wanted to give him a blowjob… “Me? What about… Leslie? She’s so cute and-“

“Not as cute as you. Ever since that night, I can’t stop thinking about you.” He cocked his head and smirked, “And I like this look,” Harry moved his hand to the material of her dress gently before letting his hand drop down to his side, “Perfect length so no one gets any ideas about you. A modest silhouette. Your hair falling out of this bun you tried to hold it in,” his hand moved upward again to push the hair off her shoulder that had indeed come undone from the bun.

“You must have had too much to drink. I’m not what you’re looking for-“

“You are. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for. And I’m not drunk, Y/n. Not even close.”

Her breaths deepened as Harry’s hand stayed at her neck where he’d pushed her hair. His thumb rubbed over her pulse point slowly. And he was suffocating, crippling her resolve. Making her question her sanity. She couldn’t allow this. Could she?

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t. We… we can’t.”

Harry licked his lips, “We can actually because no one would know. Want it to be you. Want you to show me. I trust you.” He didn’t lose his composure as his palm moved upward and his thumb brushed the outer corner of her mouth.

She closed her eyes and allowed her mouth to part the slightest. She didn’t know what she was doing. Letting him stand so close. Letting him speak to her about this. Letting him touch her lips. Letting his words sink into her core.

“Harry…” she breathed out his name as she felt the pad of his thumb press over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained closed. This wasn’t happening. If she kept her eyes closed she wasn’t here and this wasn’t happening. It was just a fantasy.

The trouble was though, that it was happening. And even with her eyes closed she could feel him and how he was standing so close she could smell the whisky on his breath and feel his body heat next to hers. Feel his thumb push past her lips the slightest as her tongue poked out to taste the tiniest bit. Felt his hand grip her face and his smooth mouth on hers and his hand on her waist and his chest pressed to hers.

She forced her fingers into his hair and moaned into his mouth but then- in a sudden moment of clarity, she pushed at his chest and shook her head, “This is wrong. We can’t, Harry. You get that, right?”

Harry backed away and looked down at his feet, “I do. You don’t want me.”

She nearly blurted out to him that that was incorrect. That she did want him. That she’d fantasized about him far too often but it was unhealthy and it could only lead to disaster.

Instead, she stayed quiet. He needed to drop this. She needed to stop this. It had gone too far.

When he left her room she sat down on her bed. Now she’d gone and kissed him. Tasted his lips and the way he kissed her felt so real and so passionate. She’d missed that bit of passion. That sort of enthusiasm. It wasn’t something Leo gave her at all. She didn’t even know it was something she was missing. But Harry had woken something up in her. Ever since that night. And now the kiss had felt like she was beyond getting back to ignoring that need she’d buttoned up and pushed down. She wanted more. But that couldn’t happen.

She was surprised by Harry’s gall too. He was quite pushy, which she hadn’t expected of him. Harry, who was so gentle and thoughtful and sweet was really adamant about pursuing her.

Her tummy was still warm and filled with butterflies. He’d kissed her. And she wanted to take it further but she couldn’t. That was out of the question.

. . .

When most of the guests had gone and the house grew quiet Y/n sat outside under the twinkle lights. She’d turn them off before going in and calling it a night but she wanted a few moments of peace with the last bit of the bottle of wine she’d worked her way through after Harry had gone and scrambled her good sense.

Good sense. What a laugh. As if she had any good sense after that night at the bar. It should have never gotten as far as it had.

Y/n was also sitting outside in hopes of making sure Leslie left before she went back in. Or at least gave Harry enough time to get his blowjob or whatever it was that was going on in his bedroom.

Because Y/n was well aware that Harry had her in there. He made a show of it in fact.

When she’d gotten back outside after calming herself from the kiss, Harry had Leslie against the side of the house with his tongue down her throat. And as much as she tried to ignore that and pretend she wasn’t bothered by it, she was bothered. It hurt her feelings but she shouldn’t feel hurt. Harry should be doing things with girls his age and losing his virginity to anyone that wasn’t his stepmom.

But she kept looking over at them and when she caught Harry gazing back at her as he kissed Leslie she could almost feel her hair singe in anger. He was doing it on purpose. To make Y/n jealous.

And before he brought her into the house he casually introduced Leslie to her and then leaned in to whisper to Y/n with his whisky breath, “Last chance.”

So, not only was she a little hurt she was a little pissed. Because he was being downright bratty with it.

Half of her hoped that Leslie would take his virginity and he’d get it out of his system and that would be that.

The other part of her, the depraved, nonsensical evil bit that she kept pushed deep deep down away from anyone, wanted to make him pay for being a little jerk to her. She imagined spanking him even, which was ridiculous because he was so much larger than she was. As if he’d somehow fit over her lap and bare his ass to her for a spanking. She laughed at her thoughts but they didn’t end there.

The more wine that wound its way into her bloodstream the filthier her fantasies got. He’d grow hard after she punished him and then she’d show him what a real blowjob was like. Make him forget all about Leslie. She’d let him feel her throat on him but wouldn’t allow him to come. Instead, then she’d pull him down by his hair between her legs and guide him over her, giving him specific instructions for cunnilingus. And he’d keep licking at her and begging for more of her even after she’d come. He wouldn’t want to stop tasting her but then she’d tell him to stop – that only good boys deserve more.

Of course, the fantasy ends with him begging her to take his virginity and then making him eat his come from her pussy since he came too fast, like the virgin he is.

Depraved. But god was she turned on just thinking about it. She bet he’d like all that too.

Plucking her bottle of wine up she flicked the lights off and went into the house. No sense in staying outside and hoping Harry was quiet enough when she went inside. Plus she was quite tipsy and just needed to be put to bed.

Putting the bottle down on the counter she heard Leo sitting in the living room on a call.

It was nearly 2 am so she was surprised he was chatting with anyone but she could tell it was something for work. Plans for a business trip.

Instead of waiting and talking to him, she made her way up to her bedroom. She slowly passed Harry’s room and noticed that there was a light on but no noises to be heard, thankfully.

And she wasn’t jealous. Of course, she wasn’t. What was there to be jealous of?

After a warm shower and slathering her body in lotion, she opened her ensuite bathroom door and stopped dead in her tracks.

“What are you doing in here?”

Harry was lying on her bed, sprawled out on top of her comforter wearing the clothes he wore at his party minus his boots.

Harry lifted his head and snorted a laugh, “Wanted to say g’night to my stepmom. But then I laid on your bed,” Y/n could hear the slur in his speech and saw the way his eyes floated in his sockets as he looked at her, “and it’s so comfortable.” He pressed his palms down and moaned at the feel before plopping his head back onto her stack of feather pillows.

She stood over him and placed her hands at her hips. She was thankful she’d put on her robe before stepping out of her room. Half the time she opted to walk around her bedroom naked.

“Well, goodnight, then Harry. It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

Harry squeezed his eyes closed and the grin on his mouth widened as he spoke, “Mmm… but this feels so good. S’cozy right here.”

Y/n sat at the end of the bed and sighed. He was clearly drunk. Earlier he hadn’t been when she kissed him. Now, he was very clearly inebriated.

“Your bed is cozy too, though. You should go back to your room. Get some rest.”

Harry propped himself up by his elbows and planted his eyes on hers, “You’ve been in my bed? When?”

Shaking her head and laughing at the absurdity of this whole scenario she spoke, “I know your bed is comfortable because I helped Leo pick out your new mattress. It’s the same one as this.” She patted the bed under her.

Harry nodded slowly and she noticed his gaze at her cleavage so she tightened her robe just as there was a knock at her door.

A gasp fell from her lips and she shoved Harry off the bed, whispering, “Under the bed! It’s your father!”

Harry huffed a laugh and put his hands up in surrender, “Yes, ma’am.”

She hushed him as he scooted himself under her bed and Y/n ran to her bathroom door, “Yes!”

The door opened and Leo stepped in, a suitcase left in the doorway, “I just wanted to let you know I’ve got a sudden meeting tomorrow late morning so I’ve got to take the 5:00 am out to Savannah.”

Putting the towel up to her hair to act as if she’d just gotten out of the shower (she sort of had) she walked across the room to him, “Really? When will you be back?”

“Day after tomorrow. It’s a morning meeting, then golf, then dinner. Then the next morning I have a flight that gets me back in LA at noon.”

She smiled and slid her arms over his shoulders to bring him in for a quick hug and he caught her off guard by kissing her cheek and squeezing her back before pulling away, “Car’s outside waiting,” he ticked his head toward the door, “Tell Harry when he emerges tomorrow for me, will ya?”

When she shut her door and turned toward her bed she let out a breath of relief. She was glad Harry stayed quiet. But then she realized as she lifted her bed skirt that he’d fallen asleep down there.

Rolling her eyes she contemplated what to do. Leave him there? Wake him and help him back to his room? She really didn’t want to deal with getting him into his bedroom. Nor did she want to deal with a drunk Harry by waking him up. But ultimately her guilt wouldn’t let her leave him there on the floor. He deserved to sleep in a bed.

“Harry… come on… wake up. Leo’s gone,” she pushed at his arm gently, “Harry…” she said tunefully, elongating the yyyyyy at the end of his name.

Pulling at his arm she got him part of the way out from under her bed and lifted his arm up, “Come on… wake up,” she lightly patted his face and that seemed to do it.

Harry’s eyes opened up and landed on hers. Sparkling and green and soft. And drunk.

“Let’s get you up. Come on. Time for bed.” She helped him sit up and tucked herself under his arm and began to stand to help him upward. But he was dead weight.

“Can I please stay with you? Please, Y/n? Your bed is so soft.”

She looked at him as he spoke and she realized he was not going to make it to his room. He’d have to sleep on her bed.

But that was fine. She’d just put him in her bed and then go sleep in any of the other guest rooms. It was better than letting him sleep on the floor or attempting to walk him to his bedroom.

“You can sleep in my bed. That’s fine. Can you lift up with me?”

Harry’s smile took over his features and his pink lips looked wet and soft. He was super cute when he was drunk.

“For real?” Harry raised an arm and steadied himself with the edge of the bed, the other side assisted by Y/n as he was pushed upward to his feet.

“There we go. Okay…” Y/n nudged him to sit and Harry’s full weight fell onto the bed and he laughed.

He immediately went to grab at his pant button and Y/n paused and put her hand on his shoulder, “Uh, just lie down. I’ll go and get you some water. Be right back.”

She was doing her best. Truly. She was quite tipsy herself and her bed had been calling before Harry showed up in her room. And now here she was traipsing across the massive home to get her stepson a glass of water. She figured he’d appreciate that when he woke up in the morning. And she had hoped that by the time she returned to her room, he’d be asleep and she could sneak out and go to the nearest guest bedroom and crash there. She was tired.

But when she returned to her room, Harry had successfully pulled his pants and sheer button-up shirt off and was left in nothing but his grey boxer briefs. And he was not asleep.

Placing the water next to the side of the bed he was on, which was where she’d normally be sleeping she noted, Harry stretched his arms behind his head and smiled, “Hop in.”

She shook her head and laughed as she pulled her charger from the wall and grabbed her cell phone, “No, Harry. That’s not a good idea,” she turned off the lamp on the far side of the room and began to walk toward the door.

He sat up quickly, “Wait. You said… You’re not staying with me?”

Y/n turned to look at him, handsome and messy.

And her stepson she reminded herself.

“I’ll just be next door. Think it’s best we’re not sleeping in the same bed, Harry. Just lie down and-“

“No. Please,” Harry tried to pull himself out of the bed but his motions were lethargic and clumsy, “want you here. Just… stay with me. Please. I swear no funny business.”

She sighed and began to shake her head and repeat herself but when Harry started to place his long legs down onto the floor she rushed back to him so he wouldn’t hurt himself. That was her logic anyway. She didn’t want him to fall or crack his skull open.

Steadying him by his arms she pushed him back toward the bed, “Stay. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Harry hummed and reached up to put his fingers in her hair, “I’ll stay if you stay. If you go to the guest room I’ll just follow you like a puppy dog, Y/n.” His words were watery and his gestures were clumsy.

She closed her eyes and groaned. She was so tired. So tired. And she just wanted to lie down. And she certainly couldn’t have Harry attempting to follow her to another room and hurt himself by falling down the stairs or something.

“Fine. But you just go to sleep. I’ll stay here with you but you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep and behave.” She pointed at him.

Harry’s exaggerated grin returned as he laid his head back onto the pillow and watched her cross the room to turn off the last lamp.

Fuck, she cursed to herself under her breath. She’d forgotten to put on pajamas. She was naked under her robe.

But okay. No problem. She’d just leave her robe on and it would be fine.

Climbing into bed, on the odd side, she stretched her limbs as she laid flat and closed her eyes. She was just so tired.

“Thank you. For staying. I promise I’ll behave.”

. . .

Y/n’s alarm woke her up and she groaned and reached over to turn it off but instead, her palm found a bare, solid chest. She popped her eyes open and the events of the previous night had come rushing back. She let Harry sleep in her bed and she was reaching over toward where her phone normally was but she’d been on the opposite side of the bed.

Rolling over to press the alarm off she sighed as she snuggled back into her pillow. 6:45 am was too early to be up for a Sunday. She contemplated moving herself to a guest room since Harry was still asleep but her soft bed lulled her back into a deep sleep where her dreams were vivid and she found herself kissing Harry again. But this time, her dream took it further and she was on his lap and then they were in his bed. By any standards, it was a very good dream. A very good one.

So when she woke up for the second time that morning things were… different. Her head was not on her soft pillow and there was a hand on her bottom. She slowly came out of her easy dream state, still reeling from the kind of dream she’d just had of her stepson when she realized her cheek was smushed on Harry’s pec and it was Harry’s big palm on her bottom slowly, slowly, slowly moving down toward her thigh. He was awake.

Her dream-riddled brain mulled over what was happening. It was a slow rise but her awareness steadily stirred. Her robe had come undone and her thigh was over Harry’s. His chest was rising and falling gently and she realized her palm was over his heart, which she could feel thudding underneath. She had cuddled up to him like he was one of those body pillows.

It was nice. It felt soft and lazy and sweet to lie in her bed on a Sunday morning in the arms of a man. And the leftover remnants of her dream had her still feeling wound up.

Hesitantly, she moved her head to look upward and Harry’s hand halted when her gaze met his.

She could see him swallow and he spoke groggily, “Sorry. You were… I didn’t want to wake you.”

The way his sonorous voice reverberated from his chest against her skin and her shoulder made her meltier than she already was.

Her hand was still over his chest and she could feel his heart rate increase as he kept his eyes on hers, “It’s okay. Thank you for letting me sleep.” She was going to move. To get up and pull her robe securely around her body so he didn’t catch a glimpse of anything but she didn’t want to move. She wanted to bask in the heat of him for a little longer. To feel his fingers on her bare bottom for a few more moments. Perhaps to even feel him caressing her again. And maybe… just maybe…

She slid her palm up and scooted herself fully into his arms, her chest over his, and laid her head down against his shoulder, “Let’s just stay here a little longer. If that’s okay?”

Harry blinked his eyes and knew Y/n could feel the way his heart was lobbing around behind his ribs. His cock was already hard but she hadn’t figured that out yet and he didn’t want to scare her off because he did want to stay like that for longer. With her.

He pulled his arms around her, removing his hand from her bottom and bringing it up to wrap around her back, “That sounds perfect.” He was just glad she hadn’t moved too far up or her thigh would have come into contact with his erection and surely would have ruined the moment.

Y/n closed her eyes and indulged in the way his arms felt around her. Her bare hip was against his and it felt so salacious. So tender. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, with one of them uncovered and warm against his skin.

“Dad left for a meeting? On a Sunday?” Harry suddenly inquired. He had always been suspicious of his father’s frequent trips.

She nodded her head over his chest, “Yeah. Sometimes he has weekend meetings. It’s more like a golf outing than anything. Probably just some buddies getting together for some fun.”

“Hmm… You’re okay with him just heading out like that last minute?”

“Yeah. It’s normal. I’ve gotten used to it.”

He wasn’t sure that his father was a good husband to Y/n. He found it odd too that they had separate bedrooms. But he didn’t usually question it. However, this morning he was feeling soft toward her (well, soft emotionally… physically he was anything but soft) and wanted to protect her in some way.

Harry didn’t know how he was going to survive. His boner was only growing thicker and with the way she was wiggling over him, her thigh was nearly brushing against his –

Too late.

When she nudged at it, feeling him stiff against her thigh, she smiled to herself. She hadn’t looked down over his body but she half wondered if he was as turned on as she was. It was easier for her to hide what her dream had done to her and what being in his arms was causing to slip out from between her legs, but this pleased her.

“I’m sorry. That’s… I can’t help it.” Harry explained and Y/n lifted her head up and glanced down at where he was straining under his boxer briefs. It nearly startled her too. She hadn’t expected… that. And even though he was covered up with his underwear she understood that what he had going on there was… well she’d say he was a lucky guy and it was truly an outrage that there hadn’t been a lucky girl to try it out.

“Don’t apologize,” she looked back up at him and realized he’d been looking at her boob. The one not covered. And with the way she’d lifted herself upward to look down at him, her nipple was out for him to peek at.

She licked her lips and brought her hand down over his pec to lift herself further. Bot tits made their appearance and Harry groaned and looked away, “Sorry. Trying not to look.”

Gently putting her hand up to his jaw she turned his face to look at her, “Do you want to look?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he nodded, “Well, yeah. But I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“You’ve seen breasts before right?” Y/n laughed and slid her thigh against his thickened cock, this time on purpose.

Harry kept nodding, “Yes. Quite a few. But just not yours.” His eyes danced over her nipples and back up to her eyes, almost to make sure it was okay.

She loved his deep, raspy morning voice. Loved how gentle and intimate the moment felt.

“Did you see Leslie’s breasts last night?” Y/n teased with a smile as she lowered herself down, her naked nipples pressing into his warm skin.

Shaking his head no he laughed, “Nah. She passed out. If you thought I was drunk last night, should have seen her. Nothing happened. Wouldn’t have been able to even if we wanted.”

When Y/n felt Harry’s hand timidly return to her low back and then ghost over her ass she let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t remove her eyes from his. He was so pretty and he deserved to be put out of his misery she thought. A bad idea, yes. But to hell with it.

Sliding her thigh further over him she pushed herself to straddle him and sat up over him. Biting her lip and looking down at his chest and smoothing her hands over the smattering of hair he had and the dark tattoos… he was sexy.

Harry couldn’t stop his eyes from taking her in. Her robe was draped over her sides but was open so he could see her breasts and her tummy, her belly button and he glanced back up at her and parted his lips as he risked moving his hands over her bottom. With the way she was looking at him and touching him, he felt the risk would be worth it.

“Squeeze a little,” she whispered as she put her hands over Harry’s and directed him to take a handful of her bottom in each palm. Harry swallowed hard and panted.

“Oh my god,” his words were spoken in a quiet breath as he relished in the feeling.

When she rocked her hips forward and dragged her core over his fabric-covered cock Harry gasped and his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths.

“I had a dream about you,” she spoke as she moved her hands back up his chest and to his face as she leaned over him, putting herself directly over his erection and ground herself over him, “It was really naughty. And I’m still worked up over it. Just tell me if you want me to stop,” her pussy was wetting the fabric of Harry’s crotch and he groaned before lifting his face upward and pressing his lips to hers. He definitely did not want her to stop.

The haste of the kiss was hectic and chaotic. Harry pushed the robe off her shoulders and she flung the thick cotton down onto the floor before placing her fingers into the band of his underwear, “Let’s take a look.”

She sat back and pulled his underwear down so his cock sprung out. She continued lowering the material until his balls were free and she moaned, “It’s really pretty. Can I suck you off?”

Harry brought a hand up to his arm and pinched his skin, wincing when he felt the sting. He wasn’t sure he was really awake. Not only was Y/n completely naked on top of him, she was licking her lips and asking if she could suck him off.

“Fuck. Please yes.”

“Do you like to beg, Harry?” She grinned as she crawled herself backward to put her face above his lovely cock.

“For you, I will.”

“Mmm… such a good boy,” she looked up at him as she licked along the underside of his shaft and Harry choked out a moan. His thighs were already quivering. She figured he wouldn’t last long but that was fine for what she had in mind.

Her mouth was watering so wetting him properly wasn’t too hard as her tongue slid over his hard prick. She dotted kisses along the way and looked up at his eyes and then down to his pretty dick.

Using her hand, a palm she licked and wetted, she gently massaged his balls as she finally pulled his tip into her mouth. She lowered over him as much as possible on the first go before bringing herself off of him, “Want you to come down my throat. Okay? Want to taste you.”

Harry’s face was twisted up in ecstasy already and she hadn’t done that much, “I’m gonna come too fast.” He whined.

Shaking her head and licking over his tip she whispered against his throbbing cock, “Be a good boy and come down my throat, Harry. It’s okay if you come fast. Just feel my mouth and my tongue on you and enjoy it. Can you do that for me?”

“Ffuck…” Harry threw his head back into the pillow as she drew him back into her mouth and began sucking, “M’gonna be your good boy. Yes.”

Harry’s voice was shaky and his groans were progressively louder as she took him deeper. He clutched the blankets tight as his stepmom fondled his balls and sucked on his cock.

He’d been given blow jobs before. But already this one was far and away the best he’d ever had. Y/n was sensual and confident and she knew what she was doing. When her eyes found his every few moments that was his favorite. Watching as she looked at him dreamily with his cock in her mouth was a picture that would be seared into his mind for all eternity. Better than porn. Because it was real.

“Ahh! Shit! M’coming, please!” Harry shouted and moaned as his hands finally found their place in her hair out of instinct.

He’d pressed on her just enough that her nose was pushed into his pubes and she felt his twitching prick beating and pumping as come gushed from his tip. He came a lot. She couldn’t breathe or move but she kept her jaw wide and gagged around him as he crammed himself further into her throat and he cursed and moaned and rolled his hips upward in orgasm.

When he’d finally drained himself of everything he had he loosened his grip on her hair and she pulled up, gasping and coughing.

Harry’s fucked out gaze was adorable, she thought. A small smile on his face with pink cheeks and a splotchy red chest from the exertion of his orgasm.

She leaned over him and grasped his jaw, causing his mouth to fall open as she spit down over his tongue, “Swallow.”

Harry gulped down her mix of saliva and his come before his pink lips curved up into a big smile, “Yes ma’am.”

Y/n chuckled and then kissed him before pushing herself upward to climb off but Harry caught her arm before she could get too far, “Wait. You don’t want me to like…”

“Of course I do. But only if you want to. Have you ever eaten anyone out before?”

Harry pushed himself up by his elbows and nodded, “Yeah. Wouldn’t say I’m any good at it. Not sure I could make you come.”

There was a thrill that filed down her spine and to her toes. She didn’t need to come. She just loved how it felt to have someone with their face between her legs. It had been a while. Leo didn’t often give her cunnilingus.

“But do you want to?” She asked pointedly. She wouldn’t dream of having him do something he didn’t like.

“Fuck yes. Just show me what you like and I’ll do it.”

Harry released her wrist and she put her bottom onto the mattress and stuffed pillows behind her so she could sit up and watch. She loved the way Harry was watching her body and how dark his eyes were. He’d just orgasmed but she was confident he’d grow hard again soon. And then perhaps she could give him what he really wanted.

“Take your underwear off the rest of the way.”

Harry got up to his knees and nodded, “Yes ma’am.” A sly smirk on his lips at the new nickname he’d been using for her.

Y/n had never been a fan of being called ma’am. She felt she was too young to be a ma’am but when Harry did it in this context, it got her blood pumping wildly through her veins.

When Harry’s boxer briefs were long gone she pulled at his wrist as she opened her legs up, “Start off just exploring. I’ll guide you if you want. Use your fingers, lips, tongue… and try to keep your eyes on mine.”

Harry licked his lips and knelt over her, his hands finding her outer thighs first and spreading her wider as he looked over her glistening pussy, “So wet. Is this for me?”

His question was a surprise to her. But it was definitely lined with something innocent. Almost as if he hadn’t expected her to be in the state she was in.

Nodding her head slowly and smiling she spoke, “All for you. That’s what you did to me and you haven’t even touched me yet.”

Harry’s dimples poked into his cheeks as he shyly smiled, “Just trying to be a good boy for you ma’am.”

He jutted his tongue out and licked upward from her seeping entrance to her clit and she moaned softly as she watched him. He kept his eyes on her pussy at first. She wanted him to look up at her but she allowed him a moment to get acquainted.

He used one of his hands to gently spread her labia and lick upward again, stopping at her clit and flicking it just the tiniest bit.

“God. You know where the clit is, don’t you? That’s really good, Harry.”

He finally looked back up at her as he mouthed over her pussy and sucked gently. She keened and smiled, “Yes! Keep doing that.”

So he did. He sucked and licked, giving special treatment to her clitoris and he moaned over her as he closed his eyes and lapped at her, and kissed his way around her cunt slowly.

“Finger me. Put two in. Like this,” she reached down to his hand and twisted so his palm was upward and then pulled on his pointer and middle finger, nudging the pads of his fingers to her entrance.

His long digits inside of her didn’t disappoint. He pressed them in and pulled out slowly as he continued lapping and sucking and she gasped into the room.

She looked down at him after the initial recovery of his fingers inside of her for the first time and he was already watching her. She slid a hand over her body, stopping at her breasts for a moment before pushing her fingers into his hair, “You’re so good for me, Harry. Just like that…” she was breathless.

Harry clamped his eyes closed at her praise and used his free hand to reach up and touch her left tit. He kneaded at her flesh and then circled the pads of his fingers over her nipple slowly and she mewled, “Come up here. Suck on my breasts,” she pulled at his hair a little to lift his face, “Keep your fingers inside of me.”

Harry did as she said, pumping his fingers into her as he moved up over her body and latched on to the breast he’d been fondling. He was a star pupil. His tongue laved sensually over her areola and he continued looking at her as he stuffed his fingers knuckles deep.

Sucking on her nipple and pulling away he moved to the other side and a muffled moan vibrated over her chest and she felt his cock against her thigh. He was aroused. Thick and full once again. She knew this would happen. Or at least she hoped it would.

Harry drew his tongue to the underside of her breast and sucked in tightly, pinching her skin and she gasped as she watched him work. He moved to her other side, repeating his gesture and bruising the underside of her boob with an intense suckle that had her flesh turning purple nearly instantly.

“Fuck, Harry.”

She had little need to guide him much. He was passionate enough and horny enough that everything he was doing was just right by her standards.

Harry popped off her nipple and looked up at his stepmom with eyes that brimmed with lust and need, “I want you so bad. Please…” his dark pink lips were wet and set in a pout as he pulled his brows together. He looked like he was in pain. But he didn’t cease fucking into her with his fingers.

Y/n carded her fingers into his hair and cooed at him, “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

She was aware of what he wanted. But somehow she was getting off on having him tell her and ask and beg with his big puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

Harry’s hips dipped down so his prick sat in the spot right next to her pussy. She was wet all over and there was a nice little bit of glid for Harry right there as he removed his fingers from her cunt and pushed them into his mouth. He was holding himself over her with one arm as he licked her essence from his digits before pulling them out to steady himself with both arms, “You. Want to… be with you. I’m so hard again.”

She knew what he wanted. And maybe it was the haze of the dream she’d had or a sudden lack of inhibition on her part, but she wanted the same thing. And his pretty cock would feel nice wrenching into her insides and poking deeply into the viscera.

Y/n nudged at him to move back so she could sit up further, “Are you sure? Because that means you won’t be a virgin anymore. I don’t want to have you regret anything.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t care about being a virgin. The stigma. Never mattered. But,” he put his palm over the top of her thigh and looked at her with hooded eyes, “I know you’ll show me how good it is. I trust you. Only if you want me.”

The sting of warmth shrouded her neck and then her heart. He was sweet and he was convincing.

Nodding her head she put her palm over his cheek and smiled, “I do want you. And I trust you too. Which means this has to stay between us. No one can know.”

Harry nodded. The tiny bit of scruff on his face scratched at her skin as he turned to kiss her palm and grasp her wrist in his hand, “Then, please. Just tell me what to do and how you want it. I’ll be so good for you.”

Intertwining their fingers, Y/n pulled at him to give him a soft kiss. Wet. Trembling. They both were. This was either the biggest mistake of their lives or the beginning of an extraordinary secret. They both knew it. It would change everything. It already had. They’d already given in.

Whispering as she scraped his scalp and dotted kisses at the edge of his mouth, “Do you want a condom? Will that make you feel better? I can’t get pregnant so that’s not an issue and everything else is good in that regard. Up to you.”

Y/n always wore condoms with Leo, at his insistence. Because of their agreement. An open marriage if you will. But with Harry, she’d forego the barrier knowing he was a virgin.

“Do you want me to wear one? I do have some that I’ve never used,” he laughed as he spoke the word used.

“I’d like to feel you just like this,” she lowered her hand to his throbbing shaft and inhaled sharply at how warm and thick he was in her hand, “If that’s okay.”

Harry closed his eyes and nodded, “More than okay.”

“Good. Now. When you fantasize about having sex. What position are you in the most?” Y/n wanted to have him start off with what he fantasized about. She knew he’d like any position, most men did.

The edge of Harry’s mouth quirked up as he breathed out a laugh, “Just… all of them. But, normally I’m on top,” he swallowed.

“That’s good. Let’s start there.” She lay back and spread her legs, gently pulling at him to follow.

Harry put himself between her thighs and brought his palms down to the mattress on either side of her shoulders.

“Push your hips down and line up over me,” She took her hand and guided him so that his heavy cock was slipping through her labia, getting coated in her slick, “Yes, now, move back and forth and just feel how wet I am like this. How it’s getting all over you before you even need to push inside. Feels good right?” Harry’s mouth was dropped open and he nodded, “Yes.”

“Mmm… feels good to me too. When you do that, your tip is hitting my clit. See?” She looked down between their bodies, urging Harry to do the same.

He groaned as he continued gliding through her wet pussy lips, “Fuck. So pretty.”

The sound alone was sexy. Her pussy was really wet and the noise that his dick caused with each pass through her folds was pornographic.

“We’re pretty together, aren’t we?”

He nodded and moaned, moving himself a little faster.

“Such a good boy. Now, I want you to kiss me. Keep your mouth on mine and then when you’re ready, put your delicious cock inside of me. Okay?”

Another moan fell from his lips as he lowered himself to kiss her mouth. Y/n licked over his lips and Harry opened up and used his tongue against hers as he slowly pushed his engorged dick up and down, nudging her clit on each upward thrust. His mouth was watering as he got himself into position, putting his knees down to steady himself and rearing back to align his pink tip with her puffy, wet entrance.

Never removing his lips from hers as he continued kissing her and sipping at her tongue he dipped gently into her. First, his wide head barely smoothed into her until he was met with resistance from the small muscle of her vaginal opening.

She could feel him hesitate, knowing he wasn’t sure if it was too much. She smiled into the kiss and spoke, “Just push. It’s like that on purpose. A little tight on the first go but once you’re in there it’s so good. You’re just a little thick so this is gonna be normal for you. Gotta just press in past my tight opening.”

The whimper that fell from his mouth before he pushed his lips back to hers made her head spin. But what really got her was when he did as she said and pushed in through her muscle and slid himself in half way.

They both gasped, parting from the kiss. There it was. He was inside of her. He moaned into her mouth as he pulled back so his tip was pulled out and then reentered, pushing past that tight muscle again as he licked into her mouth.

It was good. She knew it would feel good. His hard cock was heavy and thick and as he pressed himself in until he couldn’t push any further she gasped at how deep he was.

Harry was on a different plane of existence in that moment. He’d given his virginity to the hottest woman he’d ever met and now he was allowed to fuck her. She’d given him permission and he’d given her permission and his dick had never ever felt so good.

He’d had his cock sucked and he’d used toys with lube that mimicked pussy, but this was… warm and real. And it smelled like her and his mouth still tasted like her and she was moaning as he moved into her. She was enjoying it too. And that… that was the best part.

He continued moving his mouth over hers as he thrust his way into her as deep as he could get until his balls were pressed into her bum. He was more than thankful that he’d already come so he could last a bit longer. He’d still come embarrassingly fast, he was sure, but now he had a little advantage. Instead of three minutes, possibly ten? He hoped. At minimum. Because he didn’t want this feeling to ever end. He’d fuck his stepmom for the rest of his life if it felt this way. They could just stay like this in her bed, slipping together and kissing and being connected.

A knock at the door and the voice of a female was heard from behind the wood.

Harry stopped his movements and Y/n grasped onto him with one hand to keep him still and put her finger up to her mouth, “Who’s there?”

“I’m Harry’s friend, Leslie. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know where he went.”

Harry’s breaths were rapid as he stared down at the pretty woman he was inside of. He’d totally forgotten about Leslie.

“Uh… I think he left? Maybe? Not sure hon! I’m in the middle of something and…” she didn’t know how to get rid of the girl. She didn’t want to be rude but she was truly very much in the middle of something. Something very good. She was just thankful that the door was locked.

Harry slowly began thrusting again as he kept his eyes on Y/n’s, holding himself up over her.

“That’s okay! Sorry! I’ll be leaving. Just tell Harry I will talk to him later!”

The smirk on Harry’s face as he began to press in harder had Y/n’s tummy on fire, or perhaps it was his lengthy cock pushing into her guts, “Thank fuck she’s gone. In the middle of losing my virginity here,” he laughed as he rocked his hips sharply and Y/n grunted at the harsh thud.

“Oooh… fuuu….” Y/n moaned with a smile as he did it again, “So good like that. You gonna fuck me a little harder now? Be a good boy and make it hurt a little.”

Harry was a good listener. Had always been. This time was no different. He began to plunge into her with a dizzying drag, forceful and trenchant. Just like she liked. Especially when it was Harry doing it.

“Like that? You want it like that?” He punctuated his words with each rut of his hips.

“Yeah, just like that,” she scraped her nails over his back and keened as her body was rocked upward on each of his thrusts, “How do you feel? Tell me what it’s like.”

Harry’s hips stuttered as he brought the cadence down so he could speak, “Fuck, it’s good. So fucking nice,” he wanted to say more about how it felt. Wanted to tell her he could do this with her forever and that her pussy was the only one he’d want to fuck from now on (he was sure of that). Wanted to blurt out that she was so pretty and how perfect they looked together. But he held back with the understanding that his lust was clouding the things his heart was feeling at that moment.

“Tell me mmm… oh yes! Right there!” She closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from shouting loudly when Harry ground into her just right, not sure if Leslie was still in the house or not, “Tell me what it feels like inside of me.”

Harry’s panted words were slow and deep, “Like I’m gonna come harder than I ever have. It’s so warm and smooth. Gripping me so tight. Never want it to stop…” his hips smacked against hers as he moved into her with a hungry force.

Her mouth was wide open as her breaths were being knocked out of her lungs and her tits swayed under him.

Harry looked down at his sexy stepmom with her lusty face and body and he lowered down to wrap his lips around hers. She brought her legs over his back and pushed at his bottom with her heels to urge him deeper.

Using his forearms to hold himself up he rolled his hips into her slowing down his pace to make it last. He wanted to feel her like this for a little longer. He knew he could come soon.

Wet squelches between their bodies where they were connected and sliding together with no barriers and tiny creeks from the mattress filled the room. The sound of illicit sex. The sound of something happening that was so wrong that it was good. So good.

Y/n could tell Harry was going to come as his breaths heaved and his thighs trembled against her each time he pushed in, “Harry… you feel so good filling me up. I want to come too,” her words were panted as Harry sliced into her deeply and stilled his hips as he looked down at her.

“Want you to come too. What do you need, Y/n?” Harry’s chest rose and fell quickly as he pushed his thumb over her cheekbone.

“Is it okay if I get on top and ride you how I like? Always come when I get on top.”

Harry smiled and licked into her mouth for a good moment, pulling at her lips and grinding into her further so she could feel him as deep as he could possibly go before, pulling back and gently bringing her thighs down as she placed her feet flat onto the mattress.

Y/n sat up and ogled Harry’s body as he turned and moved to his side. She crawled over him, pushing him down to his back, and sat over her knees between his legs. She brushed her palms up his sturdy thighs up to his hips, never touching his throbbing prick before leaning over him and kissing his right thigh upward to the apex of his thigh and crotch, careful to leave him wanting. Repeating the same worship on his left thigh but taking a little time over the tiger tattoo. She looked up at him as she licked over the ink and then continued kissing her way up, devastatingly close to where he needed her. So close.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Harry. All of you,” she brushed her hands up over his laurels and to the butterfly that was rising and falling with his breath, “I’m surprised you haven’t found someone special already.” She praised. As she lowered her lips to his belly button he felt her hair ghost over his cock and whimpered.

Y/n smiled into his skin as she grazed her teeth gently upward to the butterfly licked around the lines before dotting hot kisses over his pecs, “Please… please…”

Raising her face and looking up at her stepson, “Please? What is it, baby? What do you need?” Her smirk was devious. Harry loved it. He fucking loved every single thing she was doing.

“Wanna feel you on top. Gonna burst.”

Lowering her lips back to his pecs she sucked a nipple passed her lips and nipped. Harry threw his head back into the pillow and coughed out a loud groan, “Ask me nicely. Like a good boy. You’ll get anything you want from me if you’re good, Harry.” Her words were breathed out over his skin and the spattering of chest hair. Her lips made their way up to the swallows.

“Please, ma’am. I want to feel you on top. If you… ffuck… please.”

Her grin did not disappear as she licked and pecked her way up to his neck, “I’m dripping for you, Harry. Such a sweet boy with such a big cock for me to play with. Isn’t that right?”

Harry was going to lose it. This was his fantasy. No. It was better than anything he imagined. Y/n was better. He loved being put in his place because most of the time no one ever challenged him. Or made him feel this way.

“Y…yes. Just for you.”

Y/n sat up and straddled him, placing her knees down on the mattress to the sides of his hips. Finally. She placed her messy cunt over his shaft and slid herself up toward his frenulum and down toward his base, “Just for me. That’s right. Gonna let me play with your cock and fuck myself on it and make myself come, yeah?”

Harry nodded frantically and placed his palms on her hips as she leaned forward and placed her hands over his pecs, “When I start to ride you I’m gonna go slow, up and down like this,” she demonstrated by repeating the motion of her hips, tilting her pelvis down and letting her clit drive up and down over him as she panted, “so I can keep my clit in contact with your pelvis and I’m gonna come pretty fast. I need you to let me come before you do. And if you want you can come inside of me. That’s up to you. Just let me know what you want.”

Harry nodded, “It’s okay if I come inside of you?”

“Yes, it is. Would love it if you did but it’s your choice in the end. Can come in my mouth again if you want, or my tits. Whatever you like.”

“Inside of you, please. That’s what I want.”

“Mmm… such a good boy,” she tilted herself down so her breasts ghosted over his chest as she kissed him softly, lips moving with his and small sips of tongue before she slowly sunk down over him. That same mouthwatering initial push of his wide tip into her opening snapped and then spread her apart, “Hhharry! Fuck your dick is so fucking good!”

He couldn’t speak. It was so intense. His fingers gripped her hips as she shifted over him slowly. Her nails pinched into the flesh over his muscled pectorals and he felt his balls tighten. Her moans and pretty mouth with her tongue peeking out had him leaking steadily with pre cum, “I’m trying…” he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Her tits swayed as she rode him and the way she felt on him had him tipping too fast, “Fuck… Want you to come first…”

She cooed and slowed her hips, sitting upright and changing the position of him inside of her. Deeper yet as she leaned back gently and looked down to where his cock was buried into her.

Harry chanced a peek, not wanting to miss it, and he was not ready for the sight. He groaned and brought one hand from her hip to her clit and then looked up at her before focusing back on the way his cock spread her pussy lips as he thumbed over her clit.

“My sweet boy. Just hang on. This feels so perfect. Just want to soak it in with you.” She lowered her hand over his fingers where he was circling over her button and she hissed, “Gonna make me come so hard Harry,” she swayed her hips back and forth, keeping herself upright so they could enjoy the lurid show of their connected bodies.

Currents of hot arousal coursed through her body as she clenched over him and felt his cock nudging her cervix. It was a tight fit but it had her body leaning into an orgasm.

She leaned back forward, Harry’s fingers pushed away as he placed his hand back onto her hip and she slid up and down, dragging her clit into his pelvis and her gasps and fluttering walls signaled to Harry she was coming.

He closed his eyes and felt sweat at his temple as he felt her squeezing and pulsing as she moaned his name and he felt her thighs shaking, “Yes… yes! Harry! I need you… need this… Hhaaarry… fuck! Fffuck!”

The mattress moved and creaked under Harry’s back as his stepmom got off on his cock and Harry was certain he was already filling her up with gushes of his pre-come. He was doing his best but he’d never experienced a cunt squeezing around him in orgasm. It was witchcraft and he was obsessed. He’d never be the same.

“Come! Harry, come inside of me baby…” she moaned as she continued rocking over him, everything slick and smooth between them.

Harry choked out the loudest moan and he was so far gone he couldn’t be bothered to care how vocal it was. He didn't care if anyone heard it. He was coming and his sight dimmed as he pumped into his stepmom’s pussy as she milked him with her spasming muscle. Together their moans were the music of relief.

Y/n could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of her as he released his sperm into her aching and slippery inner tissues. He was punching into her so deep from below her it made her quiver in euphoric pain. She leaned over him and attached their mouths as he finished himself inside of her. She grasped his head on each side, her fingers in his thick hair to keep his head tilted up so their lips could move together.

He'd come undone completely. Tears pricked at his eyes and slid down his cheeks as he whined into her mouth and attempted to kiss her in return. He moved his hands to her ass and pressed her down as he lifted his hips so he could burrow in deep causing her to gasp and then squeak at the punishing plunge.

“Fuck, Harry!”

They were both shivering and heaving and kissing with saliva-covered lips and moans and wildly beating hearts.

When he’d calmed he sucked in a sharp breath as she collapsed over him and snuggled her face into his neck. They were sweaty and sticky and hot but it felt precious and perfect.

Harry closed his eyes and basked in the way Y/n felt on top of him, her warm breath at his neck, her wet pussy soothing his softening cock as his heart calmed. He dragged his hands up from her bottom to her back and rubbed along her spine, the pads of his fingers slipping through the layer of sweat that had formed.

He felt her lips pucker at his neck and then her nose push upward until her lips were at his jaw and then she pushed up to look down at him.

“Are you okay?”

Harry couldn’t imagine not being okay as long as he was getting fucked like that. But the issue was that Y/n was not just some girl he could date and then fall in love with. There would be no possibility of them being together. In fact, he was unsure that this would ever happen again and that had his heart sinking before he could even answer her.

She noticed the look of unease over his features and she swiped at his cheeks with her thumbs, “Hey… what’s wrong? I’m sorry, was that-“

“No. That was everything I ever wanted it to be. It was perfect, Y/n. I’m… fine. I’m okay. Just thinking.”

She nodded as she moved herself off of him and lay on her side to talk to him. He followed her and rolled to his side, his hands not leaving her hips, not yet ready to be rid of this moment.

“Tell me. What are you thinking about it? You can talk to me.” Her fingers brushed over his arms and up to his shoulders as she watched his glassy eyes closely.

Harry smiled sadly and shook his head, “It’s stupid. It’s not your problem.”

Y/n sighed and lifted her leg to drape her thigh over his, “Talk to me. Please. We just did something very risky and now we’re treading in dangerous water. Let’s keep open with each other. Okay? Because there’s no one else to talk to about this,” she grazed her knuckles along his cheekbone, “Pretty boy. Please talk to me.”

He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes to gather the thoughts brimming from his head.

“I don’t know how I’m ever gonna forget about this and move on.” He opened his eyes to look at her and slowly smoothed his palm over her side and to her breast, “I really like you. I’m feeling things that maybe I shouldn’t.”

Y/n nodded and swallowed. She loved the way his fingers ghosted over her nipple and how glassy his green eyes were, how gentle, “Me too.”

He blinked his eyes, all shiny eyelids and damp lashes covering and then revealing his pretty irises, “You do? Feel things?”

She grinned and closed her eyes. It felt like a lot. She wasn’t in love with him or anything and this had been a mistake for sure. An epic error. But she was feeling something. His warmth and his heart and his excitement. It transferred over to her veins and her skin and the roots of her hair and sparked a longing for something. When she opened her eyes again she licked her lips, “Yeah. I like you a lot. Wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t.”

“Would you… consider doing it again? With me? Like,” he clenched his jaw and brought his hand up to her clavicle, “a thing just for us. Our secret?”

He was sure she’d say no.

Biting her lips she lifted herself and pulled Harry’s bottom arm under her head so she could draw in closer to him. She just wanted to be as close as possible. She brought her hand to lie flat over his heart and tilted her head back to look up at him, her thigh still braced over his hip. He moved his hand down her body to the back of her thigh as she adjusted herself in close.

“It’s so bad. What we’ve just done. It crosses a line. So many invisible lines,” she whispered as she traced her finger upward to his neck, “But… I guess I don’t care. Because I wanna keep doing it. I guess that makes me a terrible person.”

Stitching his brows together he frowned, “You’re a beautiful person, Y/n. So kind and smart,” he squeezed her hip and pulled her up to his mouth so he could kiss her. His stepmom, his lover, his paramour. He pulled back, his nose pressed to hers, “If you’re a terrible person then I’m right there with you. Let’s be terrible people together.”

They both laughed at Harry’s words and grinned widely.

It was ludicrous. A wild suggestion to continue their illicit affair. Of course, it would be easy. Too easy. That is as long as no one ever found out.

“Do I have you for the rest of the day?” Y/n tucked herself in closer as she asked.

“That you do. And I think there’s so much more for you to teach me. Might be a really late night for us.”

“Oh definitely, until the wee hours. So many things you need to learn before I let you leave.”

Next part: 2. No panties? | A Good Boy Masterlist

A/N: What did you think? I have so many ideas for this story but I didn't want it to get any longer than it already is. Would you guys be interested in seeing more? Let me know!

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Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 1 year

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Grand Line Crew Modern Au Gang!

i hope yall enjoy, this took a while to get all together, here

ASL post

East Blue Crew post

Friends we made along the way 1 post

Friends we made along the way 2 post

i dont have many additional headcanons for this lot, but i did write a short story with them :) enjoy

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

That’s just gonna have to be there 👆 tumblr likes to glitch out my posts.

Dont give chopper caffeine. He’ll either have a heart attack or operate on 5x speed, its a gamble every time.

robin and franky love watching home improvement shows, house hunters, how its made, myth busters, and other technical shows together.

When Luffy shows robin memes on his phone, she takes out her reading glasses and holds the phone like a mom does. Ya know that squint. You know.

Jinbei used to be a trucker and had a convoy with s bunch of his truckin’ buddies. They had matching leather jackets with “the sun truckers” embroidered on the back

Franky has a wig closet. It is vast. If you went in there you'd think you were in Narnia or something

Chopper is BEYOND CONVINCED that Sabo is a vampire.

One day, sabo volunteered as an assistant in a medical class chopper was taking. He was acting as chopper’s patient as he was learning the patient procedures of a checkup.

It was all going fine, chopper got all the patient identification out of the way and next was to acquire blood pressure, breath count, and heart rate. But the stethoscope and pressure monitor wasn’t working, and it make it seem like Sabo,,, didnt have a pumping heart,, or blood,,, or really breathed at all(he doesnt take very visible breaths).

Chopper was stricken with fear at this and assumed the absolute worse as he looked in horror at Sabo’s naturally pale complexion and long canine teeth. Chopper simply jotted down the average count of each recording instead of getting new equipment, and tried not to think about it, but

“huh, all of those numbers are usually lower than that. Maybe all that Special Concoction™ i drink is finally catching up to my heart rate.”

“how much have you.. drunk?”

“like for today? Or since I woke up.”

Chopper is fucking horrified. Sabo woke up to being a vampire and drinks blood as a special concoction. He cannot believe this.

”Never mind, I don't need to know, its all normal, you're normal.”

“Wow… that's the first time a medical practitioner has called me normal. My brothers are gonna get a real kick outta this.”

CHOPPER IS FUCKING HORRIFIED. HE HAS BRETHEREN??? Chopper just keeps his head down and finishes up the check up practice as Sabo remarks he has another class in the blood bank, which was lemon in the paper cut for chopper.

For a month or so after that day, Chopper didn’t see Sabo at all, and he forgot about his fear for a little while. However one night as chopper was hanging with Luffy and a few others in the straw hat friend group, there was a knock at the door. Chopper happily said “I’ll get it~” as the rest of the group continued in conversation.

Chopper skips over to the door and when he opens it, he sees the figure of Sabo standing in front of him. Tall and opposing, smiling a big toothy grin with bright blue eyes shining from the overhead lighting. He’s wearing a long trench coat with the collar popped and an ascot was wrapped around his neck.

What chopper was seeing before him.

Was the vampire.

He let out a scream right out of a horror film and promptly fainted.

A minute or two later, he awoke laying on the couch, feet elevated and vest unbuttoned, to his friends looking at him from the foot of the couch.

He goes to stand up, but a strong gloved hand stops his movement and guides him back down

“Don't get up too quickly, little man.”

Chopper looked next to him and saw The Vampire. What was he doing in his house?!?!?

“Are you alright, bud? You opened the door for me, screamed in my face, and then passed out.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Chopper said with the highest voice-crack to word ratio in his entire life.

“Right. Well again, dont get up too quickly, if you need water or anything let your friends know. I just came here to pick up Luffy cuz some family stuff came up. Have a good night!”

“…you too, and thanks for taking care of me…”

“No prob!”

“One last question?” Inquired chopper.

“What's up?”

“Did someone invite you in?”

the end

PS: Sabo's "special concoction" consists of Red Bull and Espresso. He hasn't slept in 72 hours. This will have lasting effects on his health.

thats all for now! thanks for reading~

#i am constantly delighted at how “crew” rhymes with “AU”#my art #one piece #one piece fan art #tony tony chopper #chopper #nico robin #cyborg franky #soul king brook #jinbe #one piece modern au #op modern au

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euaphora · 6 months

Text

✎ as much as toji hated to admit to things, he loved letting people know the ways you made him feel and what better way to admit his feelings for you than alcohol in his system.

He went out drinking with his friends for a couple drinks, his eyes felt so heavy and body felt like it was going to collapse.

It was a good thing Geto had called you earlier since he always knew before hand how much toji would drink.

“…like around twelve is good, we’re at the bar with like the thingy with the outside poster that says “enter if you dare” I think it’s for Halloween or something…so come when it’s time to pick him up.” Geto slurs, alcohol hitting him hard in the face already.

He would rarely go for a couple drinks, especially if it was with his friends, geto and gojo. Though, this week was kicking him in the ass so what better way to end the weekend off than with his friends and a couple drinks.

You got into you and got the car warm with the heater, holding you hands out while you start the car. Checking the time you realize it’s barely about to hit eleven so you get on the freeway and head downtown to the bar Geto mentioned.

Slowly pulling up to the gas station and parking your car, you step inside the store and buy some snacks for your boyfriend to munch on when you would pick up, not trying to get ready to hear his rambling. He would always get so hungry when he would go out to drink and begged you to make food or pull up to a fast food restaurant.

Walking over to the door to the bar you can hear someone whistling in you direction behind you and hear them screaming names at you, getting cat called pissing you off with the way how nasty guys could be. As soon as you enter you could immediately hear the loud laughs of familiar men making you smile.

“She even got me these cute black Uggs for this cold ass weather, I was ‘gonna wear them today but I didn’t want any…beer on them. And don’t even get me started…” toji hazily said, cutting himself from talking when he drops his fry that you were standing a few inches from.

He quickly looked up after realizing who’s shoes those were since you would always wear them with your gold anklet he bought you for your birthday.

He gets up from his seat while Gojo continues with his rant , automatically towering over you, looking down at you with low red eyes and a sly grin placed on his face, “Nice to see you..my sweet girl,” he gives you a passionate kiss on the lips, “did he call you again?” He asks, his hands holding onto your love handles.

“I think we both know the answer to that, you having fun?” You question, tilting your head while you bat your lashes up at him. He slowly nods, making you giggle at his slow demeanor.

“I’m fucking ready to leave, do you mind if we drop off the guys first?” He slid his hands off you and clamps his hands together, with a pout look in his face.

Reminding you of a little boy.

“Well of course, don’t want them to crash either,” you slightly laugh but then stay serious, looking at them you see them still rambling about work,“you guys ready to go already ?”

Heading out the bar, toji’s arm was wrapped around you for support so he wouldn’t fall and it seemed pretty impossible since his body weight was insane, muscles taking up most of his body weight.

Placing him down on the passenger sea, he mouths a small thank you and pulls himself off the seat to give you a hug. On the other hand, as soon as the other two boys entered the car, they knocked out the minute they felt cushions. You look in the backseat, watching them drool in their sleep.

Driving towards Gojo’s house, you feel a pair of eyes on you without having to look. Pulling out the bag full of snacks behind your seat, toji’s eyes lit up and grabs the bag once you pulled it out in his direction.

Fucking knew it.

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fxrmuladaydreams · 4 months

Text

back off (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x porstar/camgirl!reader

summary: seb isn’t happy when he finds out that you’ve become intimate with daniel, and daniel isn’t happy when he finds out seb isn’t going to give you up

prev part next part

Sebastian feels like he’s been staring at the screen of his phone for days now.

I’ve been spending so much time with Daniel lately

He’s reading the words over and over again, as if they’ll change at some point. When he gave you Daniel’s phone number he really only expected you to film a video or two with him, not to become close with him.

Sebastian figured you clearly weren’t in the mood to talk to him either, seeing as his last few texts went unanswered, so he decided he needed to take matters into his own hands.

You’re surprised to see Sebastian standing on the other side of your door when you answer it, a nervous smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands.

“Sebastian, what are you doing here?” You ask.

“You weren’t answering your phone.” He shrugs. “These are for you.” He thrusts the flowers into your hands.

“Thank you… Come in.” You step to the side so he can come inside.

He takes slow, cautious steps in, as if afraid he’ll overstep.

“You know, usually if someone doesn’t respond to texts it means they don’t want to talk.” You tell him as you find a vase for the flowers.

He feels bad being here, but tries to keep his cool. “You don’t want to see me schatz?” He pouts.

You sigh. “I thought you were the one who didn’t want to see me.”

Your words feel like a punch to the gut. “I always want to see you.” He says quietly.

“Then why did you push me away?”

He stares at you, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I can’t put up with you like this Seb. You can either stay here and be honest with me, or you can keep this wall between us and leave my house.” You cross your arms over your chest.

His lips move for a moment, he’s trying to think of the right way to string his words together.

“I was nervous. I felt like things were too much, moving too fast.” He takes a step towards you. “But I’ve sorted myself out now. I want to be close with you.” He practically whispers.

You take a small step back, keeping that small bit of distance between you. You’re too afraid you’ll quickly fall under his spell again if you don’t.

“We can become close again. As friends.” You tell him.

He gives you a small nod. “Friends. Can friends offer to buy you lunch?” He asks, a sheepish smile on his face.

You can’t help the smile that starts to appear on yours. “Friends can get lunch together, yes.”

“Good. Lunch it is then.”

He takes you to lunch in his car, letting you pick the music. It’s very reminiscent of your drive to the filming studio. He keeps stealing glances and you keep pretending not to notice.

Everything seems effortlessly easy with Sebastian. You quickly fall into rhythm with each other, a slightly flirty banter used to communicate with each other.

He pays for your meal, even after your insistence that he doesn’t have to.

“I’m just being a good friend schatz.” His tone is teasing, but he doesn’t like the way the words feel on his tongue.

He wants to be able to sweep you up in his arms and plant a kiss to your lips, but he remembers what you said about kissing. How it was something personal, that it belonged to you. He was just going to have to fight to earn it from you.

He drives you back to your house and joins you inside for a movie. While you start on opposite ends of the couch, by the time the movies over you find yourself curled up against the German man.

He almost wants the movie to never end. He wants to stay here with you in his arms forever. We wouldn’t be mad if you happened to fall asleep against him.

But when the credits roll you sit up, peeling yourself away from Sebastian, who tries to fill the space between you.

“I had fun today.” He tells you.

You nod, giving him a soft smile. “Me too. It was nice to see you again.”

“Maybe we can hang out again. Sometime soon?” He asks.

He’s close now, probably too close. You can feel his breath fan over your face as his words are murmured to you. His eyes travel down to your lips. You know what he wants, and even if you didn’t he tells you when he tilts his head closer to you.

“I kissed Daniel.”

He freezes at your words, slowly pulling back. A flash of anger crosses his face.

“Did he make you?”

“No! No, I kissed him willingly.”

“Oh.” He leans back on the couch.

“I’m sorry. I just thought you should know.” You head tilts down in shame.

He hums. “So are you dating him?”

You look back up at him. “No, I don’t think so.”

Sebastian smiles mischievously. “Then he has no claim over you. You can kiss whoever you’d like.” He brushes the hair away from your face and leans in again. If he pressed his lips to yours you wouldn’t have pushed him away, but he doesn’t. “I’m not going to kiss you schatz. I don’t want to confuse you, or make you feel bad about your feelings for either of us. But I won’t give up on you that easy. I’ve still got some fight in me.” He winks, then pulls away to stand up.

You almost reach out for his hand, wanting to pull him back down and kiss him yourself, but he steps away, towards your door.

“Goodnight schatz.” He calls out to you, then you hear your door open then close.

You feel fuzzy on the inside, like you’re on a bit of a high as you get ready to go to sleep.

Daniel comes by the next day, immediately pulling you into his arms and planting a kiss to the top of your head.

“Good morning sweetheart.” He says. “I brought breakfast.”

He puts a bag down on your table. You recognize the logo on the bag, it’s from the diner he took you to after you filmed your video. He hums as he admires the flowers on your table, letting his fingers gently brush against the petals.

“Where did you get these?” He asks, thinking you probably bought them yourself just to add to the dining room.

“Seb gave them to me.” You tell him. You try to sound casual about it, as if he didn’t stay late last night and if you had your way you would’ve climbed on top of him.

“Seb?”

“Sebastian.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, I know who Seb is. I just thought you weren’t seeing him anymore.”

You shrug. “It was nothing. We went out to lunch. As friends.”

He nods. “So, got any plans for today?”

You try to have a nice day with Daniel, but it’s clear something has shifted. He holds onto you just a little tighter, and makes sure to sit next to you a little closer.

When he drops you back off at your house he leans in for a kiss. You turn your head, letting his lips land on your cheek.

“Goodnight Daniel.” You quickly tell him, stepping into your house and closing the door between you.

Daniel lets his anger bubble up on his drive home. Why were you with Sebastian the previous night? Who the hell did Sebastian think he was to give you flowers? Why didn’t you let him kiss you tonight? His hands grip the steering wheel as he drives.

He walks back into his house and sighs as he hangs up his coat. The house seems far too empty, too cold when he’s home alone.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he walks to his room.

To Sebastian

I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to back off. Y/n and I are happy and you’re just going to ruin it.

He gets a reply within minutes.

To Daniel

I think Y/n can choose to spend her time with whoever she wants. And I’m not planning on letting her go that easy Danny. Let the best man win.

Daniel huffs as he tosses his phone aside. He’s going to show you just how much better he is for you than Sebastian.

#sebastian vettel x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #sv5 x reader #dr3 x reader #formula one x reader

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love4thetinas · 3 months

Text

INKED ( Pt. 1 ) - a jake webber story

summary: jake is in need of a new tattoo artist, and he thanked his lucky stars to be blessed with such a beautiful one.

WARNINGS: slight spiciness, mentions of needles, idk just a bunch of flirting

4.4k words

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Jake was an addict.

Well, a tattoo addict. He would get at least one new tattoo pretty much every week. He loved looking at himself in the mirror after a shower, admiring the myriad of small colourful drawings along his arms. His roommate, Johnnie, even walked in on him doing this the other day and saw him flexing in the mirror - a story they both agreed would stay strictly between them.

But unfortunately, his usual artist closed up shop in the last month, and he was craving another fix of ink on his skin. So he searched around for a new one to fulfil these needs of his.

He opened up Google on his phone - ‘tattoo artists near me’ - and checked the first few results and their reviews.

The first two looked pretty decent, however, there were some mixed reviews about either the cleanliness and/or hospitality. Jake figured that if he was going to get stabbed a few thousand times, it might as well be in a nice enough place.

So he checked the third one.

It was close (only about a 10-minute drive), the photos on their website and Instagram looked awesome, and it had almost perfect reviews:

‘Brilliant work! Will definitely come back’

‘Incredibly talented artist, well done’

‘Friendly, hospitable environment 5/5’

“Hm,” he hummed to himself, going to check their prices which turned out to be reasonable as well.

DM FOR SAME DAY BOOKINGS

‘Perfect!’ He thought as he followed the link on their website to the shop’s Instagram, crafting a message to send.

Hi there, I want to get a couple of tattoos done and was wondering if you had any slots free today ?

He sat with the chat open for about a minute, crossing his fingers as he waited.

But soon he saw three dots appear by his keyboard.

Manager here, of course! We’d love to take your booking,

But just a couple of things before i put you down, can you give a rough idea of what tattoos you’d like and where you would like them?

“Yes!” Jake cheered for himself in a whisper, punching the air in front of him triumphantly before he replied.

I was thinking just some red and black stars on my lower lower stomach? Maybe like 3 on each side if that’s alright?

Jake responded hesitantly, hoping there would be enough time for him available since he didn’t want to have to come back on another day. But his fears were settled promptly,

Perfect. That’s all fine to go ahead, I actually have a slot for you myself at 3:15 this afternoon if that works for you? You’ll have to put down a small deposit and then you pay the rest in full once it’s all done :)

They sent over the transfer details.

He checked the time at the top of his screen, 11:42, he had plenty of time to get ready and he didn’t have plans for the rest of the day. Looks like he would be coming home with yet another colourful trophy on his skin to show off to all his friends and fans.

Awesome, that sounds great thanks a lot man! I’ll pay you now

He replied happily as he walked up to his room, watching as they typed on the other end.

No problem, see you later :)

He huffed a breath out of his nose at the little emoticon smiley face; who would’ve thought a tattoo artist would text so cutesy?

Later that day Jake got in his car, ready to drive over to the studio, quickly fixing his hair in the rearview mirror and chucking on one of his Spotify playlists before he set off. The address was on their website and he put it in his phone for directions.

After roughly 3 songs had finished he spotted the shop, going to park up on the curb across the street. But as he went to open his door he noticed that it was still only 3’o’clock and he had maybe been a little bit eager with the time he left the house, so he went and got himself a coffee at the Starbucks across the street and had a cig outside while he waited.

But as soon as the time on his phone ticked over to 3:15, he was up there.

He looked around the room where there were three other people he could see getting tattooed. The walls were covered in posters and graffiti, loud music playing over the noise of the tattoo guns and artist/client chatter - it was like some sort of vintage, punk hangout, except it was most likely a lot more sterile and visibly a lot cleaner.

Jake walked up to the counter where he figured he was supposed to wait for the guy he spoke to on Instagram to come meet him.

His foot tapped nervously on the ground as he waited. Tattoos didn’t usually scare him, but it was more the fact that he wasn’t used to this new environment and artist. But he was sure it would be fine, they sounded nice enough over text.

A door opened up towards the back of the space from what he assumed was one of the private rooms and a guy and a girl came out, both covered in tattoos, chatting as they made their way to the front of the store.

But to Jake’s surprise, it was the girl who came up to the desk to greet him.

“Hiya,” she said with a closed-lipped, pierced smile, “How can I help you?”

“Uh…” Jake stuttered, he was always prone to that, but especially now, talking to her. “I’m Jake? I messaged your guys’ manager earlier for an appointment at 3:15?” he confirmed as she looked up at him from over the desk.

“Oh perfect!” she exclaimed, “I’m Y/n, the manager.” she clarified.

“Now, we don’t have any more space out here so we’ll have to be in one of the private rooms towards the back, is that alright?” she asked, gesturing to where she had just come from as she started to walk back out from behind the counter, but Jake didn’t hear a word she said.

He felt bad for even thinking it, but he expected some sweaty, bearded biker-dude to be the manager of this place. He was taken back as soon as she had told him otherwise; not in a sexist way or anything, but the image he conjured up in his head beforehand could not have been more different to the woman before him.

She was quite frankly gorgeous. Dare he say it the most gorgeous girl he’d ever met. And she was so… cool, you know?

With black hair, a few piercings, and some tattoos visible on her forearms and collarbone, and as she turned around to lead him away he noticed the small one behind her ear. Not to mention her fashion sense. But it was the way she carried herself that really drew Jake in.

Not once did she break his eye contact, not once did she walk without a strut in her step. Not once did she falter in any way.

“Uh- Sorry, what did you say?” he laughed nervously, having been too distracted, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as she turned back to face him.

She laughed as well, only for a second, but that was enough for Jake to decide that it was the prettiest laugh he had heard in his life. But he forced himself to snap out of it this time for he could not ask her to repeat herself for the second time.

“I said we’re gonna have to go in one of the private rooms at the back ‘cause there’s no space out here,” she motioned to all the occupied seats. “Are you okay with that?”

“Oh!” he managed to hear her this time and nodded. “Oh, yeah, of course,” he smiled widely.

And gosh, was Y/n just trying to stay professional.

She hoped that her client didn’t pick up on the way her eyes scanned his body when she walked up to him, or how her stomach flipped as he ran up beside her and she saw how tall he was, or hell, how good he smelt.

“So,” she started to make conversation as she led him towards the door to the private tattoo room, “how’s your day been so far?”

Jake's ears perked up at the sound of her voice once again, snapping himself out of a daydream to answer the question, “Alright. Yeah, it’s pretty good.”

His smile. Fuck, his smile.

“And you?” he returned as they got up to the door which was slightly ajar so he skipped in front of her and held it open, like a proper gentleman, waving a hand for her to go inside as if to say ‘after you.’

Y/n giggled to herself under her breath as she followed him through the door, taking over to close it behind them, turning back to face him as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Same old same old,” she answered his question with a shrug, “but it’s not too bad.” she smiled.

“Take a seat in my office,” she laughed and gestured towards the tattoo bed as she sat down in her own chair beside it.

“Cozy office,” he matched her energy after looking around the room and taking note of the decor, picking up the pillow that lay at the head of the bed and fluffing it a bit, then holding it on his lap.

“Thank you,” Y/n said quickly as she took the iPad from off the table next to her, along with the stylus, and opened up a drawing pad. “So, you said you wanted some stars, yeah?” she looked up at him.

He nodded as he peeked over to see her screen.

“Sick. Alright, can you show me where?” she asked while once again making the same eye contact, tilting her head to the side and resting the end of the stylus on her teeth, making Jake’s brain go blank.

“Oh- yeah sure,” he tilted his head down, flicking some hair from his fringe out of his face as he lifted up his black tank top. “Just like, three stars on each side,” he traced along his pronounced V-line, even bunching up the waistband of his jeans to reveal more skin. “I was thinking they could be bigger at the bottom and get smaller at the top? And like alternate between black and red with a black outline.” he described in detail what and where he wanted them, but all Y/n could see were his slender fingers running over the prominent trails leading to his pelvis.

All she could hear was his deep, deep voice, with that Southern twang that could lull even the most chronic insomniac into a peaceful sleep.

Of course she was still listening, in fact, it only made her pay even closer attention to what he was saying. She watched very intently as he described the size and placement of it all.

Once he was done explaining he looked back up again, “Yeah, that’s about it,” he shrugged.

However, she was still looking at where his hands had just been - it was only when he dropped his shirt back down that her head flicked back up for her to meet his gaze again, one corner of his mouth being upturned to the slightest degree, but it was enough to catch her attention.

She got to sketching on the iPad, and because it was a relatively simple design it didn’t take long. Soon the template was printed out and she brought it back to Jake who was still sitting patiently on the bed, swinging his legs off the edge but stopped as soon as she came in, leaving her no choice but to stifle her giggles.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to bunch up your shirt a bit and loosen your belt as much as you can so I have some room to work with, alright?” she asked him as she walked back to the table beside him, putting on some black latex gloves from the drawer.

“Alrighty,” he sang as he did exactly that, standing up briefly and turning around as he adjusted the tightness of his belt and the height of his underwear. “No peaking,” he teased with his back towards her.

She scoffed at his words, but she could not help thinking, ‘You think he saw me staring?’ Because where usually she didn’t care about such a thing, she felt the need to keep everything strictly business.

After he was done he sat back down in his previous spot.

“Could you lay back for me?” she asked politely as he gave her a little salute as he followed her command.

“Yes, ma’am,” he joked as he followed her orders once again. She scoffed to hide her smirk at the nickname - she knew he knew what he was doing.

She moved her chair over and placed the stencil over where he wanted it, then asked him to sit up and check if the placement was all right and he assured her that it was perfect.

So without another word, she started to print the stencil onto his lower stomach.

“Tss-” Jake hissed slightly as she rubbed the drawing onto his skin which made her head flick up to him.

“Cold?” she chuckled, assuming his noise was due to the gel used to transfer the image.

However, Jake cursed himself internally for his reaction. “Nah, it’s all good,” he replied honestly. He thanked God he managed to play it off because he truly didn’t know what caused it - perhaps it was her hands touching him so delicately…

“Okay, you ready?” she asked as she picked up the gun, dipping it in the ink and moving it closer to where she would start.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said cockily as he put his hands behind his head.

So she counted down from three and got to work. But something she noticed was that when the needle pierced his skin his breath hitched.

And he was typically good with pain, but this was something different.

“Does it hurt?” she chuckled, not stopping as she angled her head to the side to look up at him, making him deny it quickly.

As she continued tattooing she tried her best to tune out the slight huffs and groans coming from the man below her hands, and instead focussed on asking him questions.

“So, what do you do for a living?” she asked casually as she stared only at her work.

This gave him the opportunity to look at her instead, watching her skilled hands draw such perfect lines. “Oh,” he wondered how in-depth he should go with his answer, “I do YouTube, I make some music too.”

“Yo, what? Awesome!” she said excitedly, “You’ve gotta be pretty good to live out here in the Hills.”

He laughed slightly, “I’m alright,” he stayed humble as to not come off cocky. “What about you-” he started but kicked himself immediately after he said it.

She laughed this time, looking up to meet his eyes, “What do you think?” she held up the gun.

“But you’d think this would be easier by now,” she mentioned, “you chose the most awkward angle in the world for me to work with.” She was half-joking, but she also tried to readjust her arm positioning on his torso to make it easier.

“Sorry,” he chuckled as he watched her struggle, he was going to suggest something to make it easier, but he decided against it.

As she kept going he had to keep telling him to stop fidgeting because he would squirm and move practically every two seconds, but he swore it wasn’t hurting that bad.

As he kept apologising and they kept making small talk she butted in with another question, “You’re not from around here, are you?” She didn’t want to sound rude, but she could not focus on anything else but that hint of country in this alt boy’s accent.

“Nicely noticed,” he praised with a hum, “I’m from Kansas in the midwest, out in the sticks and the mud!” he put on a heavy country-boy voice as he said it, making her cough out a laugh.

“What about you?” he flipped the question back on her.

“Born and raised,” she smiled sarcastically. She’d always wished to go somewhere else but never had the chance. “I’ve lived in this same area my whole life. Still live in a house just down the road,” she shrugged and nodded in the direction she meant, returning to focus on her work.

“Oh yeah? D’ya live with your boyfriend…?” he asked slyly, slightly hesitant but he figured it could just be an innocent question. And while she wasn’t looking at his face she could practically sense the smirk on his beautifully plump lips.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head and replied, “I don’t have a boyfriend, I live alone.” she clarified.

“Hm,” he replied simply as he laid his head back again.

“What about you then?” she started the conversation back up, “Live alone?”

“Nope,” as soon as he spoke her heart dropped, shit. Was she misreading all of this?

“I’ve got two roommates, but no girlfriend,” he said confidently, making Y/n’s heart rate go back to normal.

God, he was good.

“Hm,” she mimicked his response in him same tone and carried on.

But after a couple minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence, while they both listened to the music playing through the speakers, she piped up again. “Ugh,” she exclaimed, making Jake open his eyes and look back down at her as she moved her chair back and forth, “you really did choose the most awkward place for me to tattoo! You know that?” she complained light-heartedly with a laugh at her inability to find the right position. “It’s hard for me to reach across like this,” she demonstrated the tricky angle for him to see.

“You keep saying that,” he laughed deeply and then went quiet once more, but when she looked up at him she saw that the cogs in his brain were spinning rapidly.

“You know,” he started, making Y/n turn her attention back to him as he spoke, “you could always just sit here,” he nodded his head down to his legs and her eyes followed.

He said it. He finally said what he had been thinking for the past 30 or so minutes.

“Uh… what?” Y/n said nervously.

There was no going back now.

“You heard me,” he smiled, trying his best to stop his lips from curling up into more of a smirk so as to not intimidate her, but he definitely knew he wasn’t alone in feeling like he was. “Listen, it doesn’t have to be weird, it just might be easier for you, yeah?”

She thought about it, she really really did, but she knew she couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, it would be unprofessional of me,” she said, still trying to convince herself not to just straddle his lap right there and then, having to look away from him because she knew that if he looked at her one more time with those puppy-eyes it would be a whole different story.

“I assure you it doesn’t have to be,” he persuaded. That voice of his smooth like silk - the most enchanting, compelling silk ever spun.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath in, then she looked at the camera in the corner of the room. No one else saw the footage but her, it’s not like she would lose her job.

Fuck it.

“Fuck it,” she said as she climbed on, carefully placing a knee on either side of his long legs and leaning forward to test how the new angle worked for her.

“Better?” he responded in a ‘told-you-so’ type of way - he was getting cockier by the second now he had gotten what he wanted.

She got back to work and looked up at him this time through her lashes, flicking some hair out of her face, “It is, actually.”

She noticed the way he looked down at her every now and again and recognised what went on behind his dark brown eyes - but she paid no attention. Y/n figured that the best course of action was to act as if this was a perfectly normal day and that she did this with every client.

She didn’t.

Her best efforts were put into ignoring his burning stare, and his gorgeous hair, and his perfect nose, and his sexy smile; his arms, his revealed torso that she was constantly touching; him.

But he, on the other hand, used her beauty as a way to distract from the pain of the relentless needle piercing his skin. Her face, her eyes, the expression she made when she concentrated, her body on him.

And time flew, meaning that in what felt like too soon, it was done.

Y/n wiped away the final bit of ink and admired her work, scootching back so Jake could sit up a bit and see for himself, “What do you think?” she asked nervously, as it was always a bit scary showing clients what you’ve etched into their bodies for life.

He shuffled up to have a good look at it, then at her, then back at his stomach. “It’s…” he drew it out, “Perfect!”

A wave of relief washed over Y/n as she sighed, noticing Jake’s line of sight had been aimed at her again.

“Thank you, Y/n,” he said sincerely.

She just smiled, listening to the way her name fell off his lips like it had been waiting on the edge for a lifetime. But then she looked down and realised that she was still practically sitting on his guy’s lap, so she quickly scrambled off and stood next to the bed again, going to fetch a ‘second skin’ from her drawer.

Jake could not help but feel a little disappointed when she seemed so desperate to get it all over with. The last thing he wanted was to have made her at all uncomfortable.

But she wasn’t. As soon as she came back and put the protective layer over his tattoo she looked up at him again from her chair, “You’re very welcome.”

They both made their way back into the main room, smiling and laughing with each other as they continued talking, but in the cold outside room, the burning hot rope of tension that tied them together became even more astoundingly apparent.

She tried to break the tie by going behind the till, leaving him on the other side.

His total appeared on the screen and he paid. He actually paid a lot more than he should have, not taking his eyes off her even once as he did so.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/n,” he said somewhat solemnly. He knew he was most likely going to see her again, this definitely wouldn’t be his last tattoo, but it felt akin to saying goodbye to a loved one, even though they had only been in each other's presence for less than a few hours.

“Have a good rest of your day, Jake,” she returned, a similar feeling rising within her, but she couldn’t let that through to the surface.

And just like that, he was turning around and walking out of the store, walking away from her as she watched him from the back as he left.

Both of their stomachs turned as they suddenly felt incomplete, like there was something left to do but now they’ll never have the chance to do it. It was crazy how before today they had never realised there was a hole in both of their lives to fill until it had been satisfied for the first time. Yet, their time together had been so brief in the bigger scheme of things.

Jake would not let that slide.

As he was halfway down the stairs something in his brain set off an alarm and she shot back up the stairs and back up to the desk, catching her just before she walked away.

What’s the worst that can happen?

What’s the best?

“Oh,” she turned and saw him again, slightly surprised, “did you leave something?”

“Yes,” he said very quickly. “No,” he threw in shortly after, shaking his head rather frantically, leaving her slightly confused and letting out a chuckle.

“Do you think I could…” he clenched his teeth and decided that he would regret not shooting his shot if he left now, so he told himself to just come out and say it.

“Do you think I could get your number?” he blurted out, a hopeful glint in his eyes that made her body react with a physical response.

But she couldn’t, this was her job, and she could get in a lot of trouble, even as the manager. “I-” she stuttered, not knowing what to say, and then took a breath. “I’m sorry but it would be wrong, I’m at work,” she sighed, and he could clearly see that’s not what she truly wanted either.

At least he had done it now and he wouldn’t have to live his life in wonder. “That’s alright,” he said half-heartedly, but trying his best to play it cool.

But he decided to try just once more.

“Uh,” he started again, making her gaze fix back on him. God, those eyes of hers - he had the feeling they could settle wars with just a glance if they let her. “What if I asked you after your shift?” he proposed, crossing his fingers behind his back, praying to whatever was out there that she would just say yes.

And as he asked again something within her screamed at her, ‘Just say yes!’, a doubt inside her was settled and happiness took its place, but she remained collected. She tried to stop the smile from rising on her lips, but as she spoke it was audible in her voice, “It would still be unprofessional,” she started and watched as his face dropped, so she quickly finished her sentence, “But… I get off at 7.”

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my first ever fic ! hope you guys enjoyed, comment if you wanna see part 2 i’ve already got it all planned out.

all requests taken in my bio !! xx

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#jake webber #jake webber fluff #jake webber smut #jake and johnnie #colby brock #johnnie guilbert #sam golbach #sam and colby #fanfic #fluff #tattoos #jake webbers tattoos are so sexy #jake webber is just so sexy

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