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miraclewoozi · 6 months

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DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC. notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away. notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago.

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room.

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right.

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones.

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’.

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone.

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name.

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry).

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen.

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts.

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour.

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed?

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him.

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense.

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know.

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans?

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can.

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty.

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it.

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away.

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced.

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there.

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since.

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie.

There is one more.

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly.

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most.

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it.

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits.

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask.

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through.

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake.

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so.

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage.

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest.

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning.

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on.

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth.

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle.

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough.

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe.

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.”

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—” He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go.

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him.

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.”

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different.

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms.

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice.

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants.

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured.

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use.

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again.

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans.

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle.

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat.

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like.

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base.

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him.

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming.

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess.

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop.

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name.

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to.

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.”

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own.

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache.

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum.

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas.

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#dino smut #lee chan smut #dino x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #kpop smut #j writes.#*#this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3

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jedifarmerr · 2 months

Text

Untimely - Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC (AFAB).

Summary: Joel might have a little crush on his business partner, but it’s no big deal - really.

This can be read as either pre-canon or AU. Reader has a nickname, but physical description is a blank slate

Rating: E (18+ no minors)

Warnings/Tags: Joel’s POV, readers dad used to be Joel’s boss, discussion of absent parents (not reader), very minor discussion of parental death (again not reader), Joel is kinda awkward when it comes to dating, workplace relationship but without power dynamics, squint and you’ll find an age gap (no exact age is stated but she does have a college degree), pining and lots of it, denial of feelings and all that good stuff, and smut in general. I’m not gonna tag everything or this would get way too long but consent is clearly stated and does not have any major triggers (to my knowledge, but let me know if you catch something).

Word Count: 23,000. This was supposed to be a short one-shot, but got out of control. Oops. This is separated into two parts on AO3

Note: I’m back!! I know it’s been a hot minute, but I’m very very excited and very very nervous to share what I’ve been working on in my absence. But here it is!

---

The first full week of September, and Austin was deadlocked in a nasty heatwave.

Days like this made Joel wish he’d chosen a job that involved a roof over his head – or maybe just a little shade. Anything would be better than being crushed under the weight of the cruel Texas sun as it poured down through the bare-bone house. Still, Joel hammered his way through it. Even as the sun baked his scalp and covered every inch of his skin in sweat.

Joel flapped his shirt to dry the cotton sticking to his chest like silicone glue. His walk was more so a waddle, which was honestly his fault for wearing jeans. The denim chafed against his thighs while combing the work site for any loose supplies. All he wanted to do was hop into his work truck, blast the air conditioning and leave, but instead he diligently checked between every wooden beam and around every corner. Despite the lack of drywall leaving barely any hiding spots, it was insane how often Tommy forgot a power drill behind a tub of paint or cement.

Or somewhere else incredibly stupid.

Nothing major today, though. Just a few nails that jingled around in his tool belt as he stepped out onto the future front porch, immediately spotting Tommy. Kinda hard to miss with his big ass head poking out the driver side window while puffing on his daily post-work Marlboro.

“The engine was making that funny noise again,” Tommy claimed, his voice echoing across the dirt lawns and unpaved driveways of the brand new subdivision.

Joel walked past the rusty-white hood, but heard nothing other than the usual ancient roar. There was the radio in the cab playing Foolish Games by Jewel – a favorite of Sarah’s.

“Funny noise, huh?” He eyed Tommy with blatant skepticism before slumping into the dusty cloth seat with a thunk. “Well, sounds like it’s fixed now.”

“Oh yeah good as new.” Tommy burned the soul from his cigarette, then chucked the butt out the window. “This thing’s gotta be what - 10? 15 years old?”

“Something like that.” Joel didn’t know off the top of his head. The truck had been a part of the company even longer than him, meaning it had to be somewhere closer to 15 than 10. From what he could recall it’d been a few years off mint condition even when Danny first hired him.

“Then, how the hell is it still running?”

“Danny’s a smart man who didn’t buy a shitty Chevy,” Joel lightheartedly jabbed at his little brother – a self-proclaimed Chevrolet man, but only because of his buddies. “He knew that Ford was better - built tough.”

“Well, ain’t lookin’ too tough now,” Tommy pointed out and Joel shrugged.

As long as the truck got him from one place to the next, he didn’t care if it was taped together by spit and gorilla glue. He knew for a fact Tommy wouldn’t complain either if a new one was coming out of his wallet instead.

Tommy threw the truck into reverse. “I’m telling you now, you’re gonna regret not buying a new one sooner.”

“What are you gonna do?” Joel snorted. “Put some sugar in the gas tank?”

“I don’t have to sabotage this piece of shit - it’ll crap out on its own soon enough,” Tommy said. “Hell, it could even happen today.”

“Better not,” Joel grumbled, but otherwise went quiet. He didn’t know why Tommy had to put that idea in his head. Sarah was waiting for him at the shop. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to break down.

For a mile or so, Joel sat on the edge of his seat, carefully listening to the bumps and groans – typical for a truck around Sarah’s age. The engine rattled as Tommy merged onto Highway 183, but it always did when accelerating. He swore it did.

Whatever – enough.

There was paperwork to do. Today’s timesheets were in the glovebox, only halfway complete. So, he pulled out the folder and set to work. At least it offered a distraction from the brakes screeching like a horde of bats during rush hour traffic.

“Did you ever hear from the concrete guys?” Tommy turned down an obnoxiously loud ad for a car dealership in town.

Grunting, he curtly nodded. His pen found Harry’s Concrete at the bottom of the sheet and promptly scratched it out with scathing red ink. Just seeing their name triggered a sour taste in his mouth.

He was used to the concrete guys being flaky, but not like this. These last couple months had been like dandruff in the winter. Brutal. Today, the bastards didn’t even have the balls to call until after lunch. No excuse, either.

“Third day in a row,” Tommy just had to say, as if he needed a nudge. “In my opinion - I think it’s time to hire somebody else.”

“Well, you know who to share that opinion with, and it ain’t me,” Joel chided – annoyed. It drove him crazy how often Tommy needed to be reminded of simple things, like what Joel’s role in the business entailed. For God sake – it’d been over a year now since he became a partner in the company.

Joel could initially understand the confusion. After all, Danny had run the business as a one-man show and everyone, including Joel, thought his daughter would fully take over once he retired. Danny had always said that was the plan anyway, and even named the place: Teddy’s Company.

Originally, Joel had thought Teddy was her real name until three years ago when he finally got the chance to meet her. But how was he supposed to know when Danny never called her by anything else? It wasn’t like Joel had known much about her back then either, and what little he did came from Danny’s vague and blue-moon updates.

College is going well.

Her new job’s treating her good.

She moved into a new place, seems to like it.

Short – brief. Some people probably thought Danny was being crusty but that wasn’t the case. No, Danny was never rude or mean, just quiet. A man of few words who on his more mute days could even make Joel look chatty.

Before meeting her, Joel used to wonder what she’d be like. His future boss. There was a mystery around her that made her seem almost mythical, an enigma. She was like Willy Wonka with her name plastered all over the place: on his shirts, the side of the truck, front and center of the shop. But Joel had no idea who she was.

Even with a gun to his head, he couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd. Or even a line-up. The only picture he’d seen of her was in a popsicle frame on Danny’s otherwise bare desk: The two of them at a petting zoo where she couldn’t be older than six.

Without much to go by, Joel had simply assumed that she would look and act, at least somewhat similar to her dad. He’d built Teddy up in his mind as a strong, burly woman who was gruff around the edges. Someone with a sailor’s mouth and stubby fingernails embedded with dirt and grit and grout.

Instead, they were fake and baby pink. She looked like she had never changed a tire in her whole life.

She probably hadn’t, but she was without a doubt smarter than Tommy and him combined. A graduate from some fancy university in California with an equally fancy business degree. Charming with a nice, smooth voice perfect for sales. If she went to a random street corner to sell bags of cow manure she could sucker anyone, even him, into waiting in line to buy one.

She was down-right impressive. Finances, pitches, and permits, she could do it all. However, the other side of the business – the manual labor, a little more dirty.

Joel had not a doubt in his mind that she had the ability to learn it, but did she want to?

Hell no.

For one, she had this irrational fear over being electrocuted. Back before Danny retired and she first started working at the front desk, Joel had walked in on her changing out a lightbulb, and you would’ve thought a snake had popped out of the ceiling. He’d mistaken it for a fear of heights until a few months back when Sarah refused to let him shower during a rainstorm. Sarah had looked hysterical using her lanky-arms to body-block the stairs, warning him that he’d get fried if he went up there.

“Don’t you know dad, lightning can travel through plumbing? Teddy was telling me all about it today.”

Joel didn’t have a clue where that particular fear stemmed from, but her vendetta against attics, now that he could understand. After all, she’d probably still be in California if not for her dad’s accident.

It was never Danny’s plan to retire so early. Despite the appointments and constant physical therapy, it’d still caught Joel by surprise, though not as much as Teddy’s offer to run the business alongside her. Together. 50/50. Sure, it came with this boring paperwork, but a bigger paycheck as well. Only a fool would’ve turned that down.

Besides, promotion or not – he would’ve stayed and worked for her, regardless.

—

Back at the shop, Joel would usually help Tommy unload the truck, but not today.

Instead, Joel tucked the file under his arm, hung his tool belt on the rack, then made his way through the garage. He entered through the back door, letting it slam behind him. The cool air greeted him, tingling his tacky skin and he shivered.

The vents rumbled inside the white hallway walls, echoing around the shop. Along with two voices coming from the lobby. When he heard Teddy’s laugh, he ran a quick hand through his hair, fixing the damp strands away from his forehead.

He rounded the corner and Teddy was at her desk. Everything from her neck down was cut-off by the high-glass counter, making her look like a floating head. A very nice-looking floating head or a nice head to look at or -

Whatever.

She was smiling at him – that same honey-golden smile that welcomed him every morning. The same smile he wished was here to welcome him every evening, as well. But with how late he worked most days, it was a hit or miss. He could never guarantee she would still be here, except on the days with Sarah.

“You’re late,” Sarah said before he could even say hi.

Joel glanced at the clock above the front door. 5:45. 15 minutes.

“Barely.” Anything less than thirty was a win in his book. It didn’t matter that Teddy chose to stick around and keep Sarah company, he wouldn’t push it. She was his business partner �� not a babysitter.

“Still late.” Sarah stepped away from Teddy’s desk with her arms crossed menacingly over her chest. If not for the twitch of her lips, she would’ve appeared deadly serious. The girl never could keep a straight face though for more than a second.

“Let me guess, you’ll forgive me if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?”

Bingo. Sarah tapped on the tip of her nose and Joel huffed a laugh.

“Well, Uncle Tommy drove, but we can ask-”

“We?” Sarah looked at him like he was crazy before shaking her head. “I think I’ll handle this one on my own.”

“What’re you trying to say?” He asked and her lips curved into a half-cocky, half-play smirk that screamed teenage girl. A stage of life he felt rather unprepared for, even more so than diapers and potty training and 6th grade math. The teenage years were bound to be harder than statistics and exponents and long division.

“Come on, dad. When has Uncle Tommy ever said no to this?” She showed off her best puppy dog eyes and alright – yeah, poor Tommy didn’t stand a chance.

But Joel didn’t tell her that. He couldn’t. He was too stunned that the little girl who used to hide behind his legs at the grocery store was the same one who was strutting down the hallway now without even glancing back.

He shook his head in disbelief and looked over at Teddy. “I don’t know where all this confidence of hers has come from recently,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the now-shut door. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with you.”

“Me?” She fluttered her lashes like she was clueless – definitely something she wasn’t.

“That’s right,” he replied as he approached her desk. Her area always smelled clean and homey like fresh laundry in a field of wildflowers. The last thing he wanted to do was invade her perfumed bubble with the stench of his sweat and that specific twang that came from being outside all day. So, when he caught a strong whiff of her perfume, he stopped and propped his hip against the desk before saying, “I think you’re rubbing off on her.”

“And is that such a bad thing?” She squinted at him and unlike Sarah, she could actually keep a straight face.

“No.” He firmly shook his head. “In fact, I meant that as a compliment.”

In an instant, her flat-line lips split into a wide grin. He smiled in return, stupidly pleased with himself for making her light up like that. His gaze momentarily dropped from her lips to the single button left undone on her shirt. The charcoal gray fabric shined in a way that reminded him of moonlight over Travis Lake. It looked soft and smooth as butter. And not to mention expensive. Joel bet if he touched it, even so carefully, the material would immediately snag under his callouses.

Teddy motioned for the file and when he handed it over, he felt a draft under his armpit from the hole in his shirt. He glanced down at his jeans, covered in dirt and mud and sawdust. Filthy. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness. It was hard not to feel like a mess next to her sometimes when she was always dressed so goddamn professional with her pressed slacks and tucked in shirts. Anyone who saw her would think she worked for some big corpo with a koi pond in the lobby. Not a Morton building with more garage than office space.

“They didn’t show?”

Teddy’s voice jolted his attention back to her face. Her lips were pinched, her cherry red fingernail was bleeding into his own pissed-off pen marks. He mentally cursed himself for being too wrapped up in his own stupid head to warn her about the concrete guys. Good going, idiot.

There was nothing he could do about it now, except frown and shake his head. “They called and said-”

“Let me guess, they’ll be there first thing tomorrow?” She bitterly scoffed, clipping the folder shut. The manila spine crunched under her grip before she abruptly turned away from him to face the wall of cabinets behind her. She never said it out loud that it bothered her, but clearly it did and rightfully so.

Working here this long Joel had witnessed these same people treat her dad with respect only to now try and walk all over her. He found it complete and utter bullshit, but was it a surprise? Sadly, not really. Enough years around construction sites and his tinnitus resembled cat-calls more than a compressor.

Still, he fucking hated it. His left eye flinched watching her file away the folder in silence. The protective lobe in his brain flared as his fingers curled and burned into a fist at his side. God – he wanted to go to Harry’s Concrete and give that bald loser a piece of his mind and maybe a black eye, but he didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

No – instead, he continued to bite his tongue until his mouth flooded with the taste of pennies. He’d become used to the tang of copper in his mouth after the roofers, the plumbers, even the electricians that tried her in the past. The only reason he held himself back was because of her. Because she asked him to let her deal with it, and she was perfectly capable of handling things herself. Better than him at it, in fact.

Teddy slammed the drawer shut, rattling the entire cabinet. “I’m not gonna fire them.”

“Okay,” he said without having to think twice. He didn’t expect her to fire them, honestly. She’d explained to him before that she’d never burn bridges prematurely. The grass was not always greener on the other side, especially not in Texas. Especially not in this line of work.

“Or - I should say I’m not going to fire them yet, anyway.” Her voice was steady – determined. “But one more and it’s over. I’m gonna let Harry know that he’s on his last strike when I call him tomorrow.”

“Give ‘em hell,” he encouraged her. Whatever she said in those calls had, so far, been enough to whip everyone who crossed her into shape. Just once, he wished he could be a fly on the wall to witness her in action. She didn’t look particularly tough, but he imagined her being like an asp caterpillar, fuzzy and harmless until poked.

She didn’t linger on the topic, and instead asked about his day. He did the same. Neither had much to report outside the usual.

“So, how was Sarah today? Did she talk your ear off about the homecoming dance coming up?”

She giggled, gathering up the papers on her desk and stacking them into a neat pile in the corner. “How did you know?”

“Cause she found out Monday, and hasn’t talked about anything else since.”

“Oh and it’s only just begun,” she said with a smirk. “Welcome to your life for the next few weeks, Joel.”

Joel scratched at the spot where his temple was already beginning to throb. Why did they have to announce it so early? It was great seeing Sarah so excited, but she kept asking him about his own first homecoming. He hated lying to her, but he couldn’t very well tell her the only thing he remembered was Rachel Borthwick and how she let him feel her up – the first boobs he ever touched – underneath the gymnasium bleachers. The thought of Sarah being that same age made him want to throw up.

He swallowed the thought before it came out all over her desk. “Were you the same way at her age?”

“Oh yeah. I’m sure if you asked my dad, he’d tell you I was worse.” She snorted, almost seeming embarrassed by her younger self. “For some odd reason, I had it built up in my mind that it’d be like that prom scene from Grease. Minus the broadcast and all that-”

“Wait, your dance wasn’t on the news?” He tried to keep a straight face, but he was just as bad as his daughter.

“Shut up.” She playfully shoved his arm and he rubbed it like it hurt. She rolled her eyes, but continued anyway. “My dad didn’t have the heart to tell me, so it was a pretty huge letdown when they didn’t even play Born to Hand Jive. I think I even requested it.”

“How did you survive?”

“It’s a miracle,” she said, and he huffed out a laugh. Three years later, and she still surprised him with every new story she chose to reveal.

There was a split-second where the only sound in the room came from the buzzy-white fluorescent lights above him. Teddy stole a quick glance towards the hallway, as if checking if Sarah was back. She had still not reappeared and he wondered if Tommy had baited her into helping him unload the truck or maybe just sticking around to talk.

Teddy clicked her fingernails on the counter in front of him. “Real quick, I wanted to ask,” she said before clearing her throat. “Have you and Sarah talked at all about dress shopping?”

Joel shifted back a step, his boots scratching against the cheap, gray carpet. “Dress shopping?” He forced the words from his throat, then shook his head. He looked away, feeling a pit in his stomach that reminded him of Muffins for Mother’s Day in elementary school – Mommy & Me at the daycare.

Again – dress shopping was another one of those things girls usually did with their mom’s, but Lisa wasn’t meant to be a mom. She’d even said so herself in the note she left next to her engagement ring on the day she vanished with their dog. Joel wished his own mom was still around to help fill in when the gaps felt too big for him, but sadly, she had passed away before Sarah turned 4. Since then, it’d only been just Tommy and him.

“The only reason I ask is because,” Teddy started, clutching at the dainty gold chain around her neck, “Well, she sorta asked me to take her.”

“Oh.” Joel didn’t know what else to say. Not that it offended him or anything petty like that. God no – he wasn’t delusional enough to think that he would be Sarah’s first choice when it came to fashion. After all, his idea of dressing up was a flannel and whatever jeans were clean. Teddy made a lot more sense than him.

“I didn’t give her an answer, just so you know. I wanted to check with you first.” Her voice was rushed, slightly pitchy, and he realized this was the first time he’d ever seen her even remotely nervous. She must be just as cautious as him about crossing whatever line was supposed to exist in this…relationship? Dynamic?

Joel smiled at her, softly, hoping to ease her anxiety. “Well, thank you,” he said and she appeared to relax at his calm tone. “I have no problems with you taking her, as long as you wanna do it.”

“Of course, I want to, but are you - are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us if you want. We could all go together?”

The offer was tempting, but he declined. He knew Sarah would enjoy it being just the two of them. It could be girl time or whatever.

Teddy pulled out her planner to check on what dates would work best when Sarah came back in. Once she heard the good news, the victorious grin on her face somehow grew even bigger. The last time he saw her that excited was when he surprised her with tickets to Six Flags for her 11th birthday.

Teddy and her started to discuss which stores to hit and what mall would be best, basically a foreign language to him. He should’ve started on closing duties, but instead he found his gaze drawn to Teddy. How she appeared equally as thrilled as Sarah. He always could tell when she was excited by the way she talked with her hands. That smile was downright infectious and –

He noticed Sarah watching him. Her quizzical eyes were glued to his face. Shit. He was staring. Quick. Joel forced a smile at Sarah that hopefully said nothing-to-see-here. He didn’t stick around to wait for her reaction and instead, fled into his office.

For a few minutes, he pretended to check over files and went down the list of closing duties, completely avoiding them until the only thing left was setting the alarm. Finally, he dared to look in their direction again. When he saw Sarah’s focus was entirely on Teddy, the tension drained from his shoulders.

He thought he was in the clear.

—-

“Dad, do you think Teddy’s pretty?”

Joel’s head whipped up and a sharp, pointy fry was lodged into the back of his throat. It burned and stabbed its way down to his esophagus. For a second, he thought he was going to choke and die at his own dining room table from a McDonald’s fry.

“What?” His voice crackled like sandpaper from holding in a cough.

“She asked if you thought Teddy was pretty?” Tommy repeated, loud and clear with a smug grin that he didn’t even try to hide behind his Big Mac.

Joel’s gaze flickered from one set of brown eyes to the next. He was cornered, his back against the bay window. No way out and no one to blame but himself for this mess. He was, after all, the dummy who got caught.

Joel held up a waiting finger, then slowly sipped on his coke to calm his burning throat. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he wrapped his head around what to say. Lying was out of the question. It seemed more damning than the truth.

The thing was – there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t like she was asking if he liked her. Not that he did like her. Well, maybe just a little. Just a teeny, tiny crush but it was nothing really. Stupid, honestly. For the most part, he could ignore it.

Joel cleared his throat and gave a casual shrug. “Uh yeah, she’s uh - she’s pretty.”

Despite his best attempt at cool, Sarah’s lips still flickered. Only the corners, as she continued to bathe her fries in a pool of ketchup.

“Have you ever thought about - maybe asking her out?”

A deep laugh barked in his ears and bounced around the tile floor like spiky ping pong balls. “Come on, Teddy’s way out of his league.” Tommy’s hand collided against his shoulder with a hard thwack. It slightly stung.

But Joel didn’t take it too seriously. Tommy hassling him over Teddy was nothing new. Ever since she started working the front desk, it’d been Tommy’s favorite gag. In a weird way, Joel considered it a good thing that he saw it as one big joke. If Tommy had any idea about his silly crush, he would’ve kept his mouth shut instead of teasing him. Tommy might’ve been a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel.

Sarah didn’t seem to care whether it was a joke or not and scolded her uncle from across the table. She gave him a hard glare before turning back to Joel. She blinked expectantly, not letting him out of this.

Joel sighed. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” He licked his teeth and sucked a stuck piece of meat from between his molars. There was a laundry list of reasons, but he went with the least complicated. “We work together.”

“So? Two teachers at my school are dating, and it’s no big deal. They didn’t even get in trouble.”

“Wait,” Tommy piped in with a mouthful of bun and sauce. “Isn’t she dating someone?”

Joel swallowed down the salty taste in his mouth, bitter like vinegar. He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You think so?” Sarah looked at him with clear suspicion. “So, she didn’t tell you that.”

“Well…no. But-”

“Then, how do you know?”

Joel crinkled the empty wrapper into a tight ball, then tossed it into the paper bag. “Somebody sent her flowers at work. Nice ones too.” Too grand to fit in her car, so instead they lived and died in the tiny break room directly across from his office.

“When?”

Three months. “I don’t know, not that long ago.”

“Well, how do you know they weren’t from her dad?” Sarah asked, not backing down. “Or maybe her friends sent them?”

Joel shook his head, recalling the stupid plastic holder that had poked out at him like a giant weed among the long stem roses. “The card said Happy Anniversary.”

At that, Sarah sank into the chair like a deflated balloon. She shoved a whole chicken nugget into her mouth – no sauce. Each dry crunch-crunch grated against the silence.

This recent interest in his love life was new. He wondered if it had something to do with her age or maybe all those rom-coms she watched. She’d never cared about him dating or – she did try to set him up once, a few months ago, with her best friend’s recently divorced mom, but when he shot it down she had quickly moved on.

But she didn’t even finish her chicken nuggets. He noticed a faraway look in her eyes – his eyes, one of the only things she inherited from him. She was somewhere deep in her head, in that big brain of hers that definitely didn’t come from him.

She did eventually perk up when Tommy brought up the new season of the Bachelor, but still wasn’t her usual self. So after Tommy left, Joel settled in beside her on the couch to watch Friends. This show was like her pacifier. Sick or just a bad day, one of Joey’s jokes could cheer her up instantly.

Not today, though. A whole episode later, and she’d barely said a word. Barely laughed, which had him really concerned. He got the sense that whatever was bothering her was something bigger than just Teddy.

“You’re quiet tonight.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and snugged her closer. She collapsed into him like a domino. Full cheeks squished against his shirt. She didn’t respond, and he didn’t press. Only can-laughter existed in the space between them.

Laying like this reminded him of when she was a baby. So tiny, a full head of hair even then. She would fall asleep on his bare chest while waiting for Lisa to return home from work. Looking back, the signs had always been there that one day she would run. She’d practically lived at her job after her maternity leave was done. Hell, she didn’t even take the full 6 weeks. Post-partum, the doctor called it, it’ll get better in time. But it didn’t. There was no medication cocktail that could make her want this life – that could make her want to stay.

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah’s eyes didn’t leave Phoebe and Monica.

“Anything,” he murmured against her hair before placing a light kiss to the top of her head. She no longer smelled of Johnson & Johnson or desitin, but coconuts and lime.

“Are you lonely?”

Even with her feathery-soft tone, the words hit him like a sucker punch, square in the jaw. Where the hell did that come from?

“Do I seem lonely?” The words left him like a reflex, automatic. It was the second time tonight she’d caught him off-guard.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her shoulders sliding along his t-shirt. “Are you?”

Slowly Sarah lifted her head – her big eyes bore into him and when he could trace every concerned line on her young face, the guilt smothered him like wet mineral wool. It was his job to worry, not hers.

He urgently shook his head. “No. Of course not.”

She silently stared at him, squinting as if somehow it would give her Professor X’s ability to read his mind. Clearly, he did not convince her and so he tried again. Harder.

“Sarah, listen. I am perfectly fine, alright?” He brushed a curly strand of hair from her face, firmly holding her gaze. “If I was lonely, I’d go do something with Uncle Tommy. He’s always asking me to do things after work-”

“Why don’t you?”

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at her confusion. Of course, she wouldn’t understand. Teenagers always wanted to be out somewhere, doing something with their friends.

“Cause I’m old. And I’m tired. And honestly, I’d rather be home.” With you. The last part never slipped through the gap in his bottom teeth. He never wanted to make Sarah feel guilty for leaving him and living her life.

“You’re such a hermit.” She nudged at his chest, a smile sweeping across her face. Exactly what he’d been missing.

“I prefer homebody,” he corrected, making her burst into a giggling fit. He waited until she went quiet to say, “Either way - you ain’t gotta worry about me, alright?”

Once again, her expression turned very serious. Her eyes darted once, twice, across his face. “Swear?”

“On my life.”

—

Later that night, Joel laid awake in bed fighting to find a comfortable position. Even sprawling out in the middle didn’t work. The sheets were tangled around his legs, his feet – his thoughts equally twisted up from Sarah’s question earlier.

Are you lonely? Was he?

Joel had never considered himself to be lonely. Not really. Or not all the time, at least. For the most part, Sarah and work kept him busy enough that he never gave it much thought.

If he did think about it though, he supposed crawling into bed alone every night could get a little depressing. He was still human, after all. Intimacy was a basic human need. It was just simple biology when he occasionally craved a soft touch or someone to talk with before drifting off to sleep. It’d been a long damn time since he experienced either of those things.

Maybe Sarah was onto something. Maybe it was time for him to get back out there, but oh God. Just thinking about it made him light-headed.

Where would he even start?

His last serious relationship was his only serious relationship. After Lisa left, there was hardly any time for that. Being a single dad, dating wasn’t his top priority.

Sure, he’d managed to squeeze in a few first dates over the years, even less second ones, and he couldn’t for the life of him recall a third. If so, it’d been nothing worth remembering.

Honestly, the only person he’d considered asking out recently was Teddy. It was just a dumb idea that crossed his mind sometime in late spring when too much tree pollen and dust mites must’ve gotten into his head. He’d luckily come to his senses and fast. A few short weeks later, those damn flowers showed up.

If he was being honest, no one else really interested him.

And how could they?

It wasn’t even just about her looks, she was sweet and smart and surprisingly funny. Joking or not, Tommy was right – she was way out of his league and why was he thinking about this right now? Joel cleared his mind with a hard shake of his head. He needed to stop, get some sleep. He didn’t want to know what time it was already. Without looking at the clock, he flipped onto his side, fluffed his pillow, then shut his eyes.

Within seconds, Teddy slithered back into his mind with her perfect smile, the delicious scent of her soap, and those jeans she would undoubtedly wear tomorrow. Casual Friday might actually be the death of him. Denim on her hips was seriously a sin.

Just thinking of her fully-clothed ass made his cock twitch inside his boxers. Somehow that was enough to get him half-hard, the tip snagging over the soft-cotton.

Joel groaned in unison with the bed springs as he flopped onto his back. His palms itched to reach down and squeeze at his cock for a little relief. But he resisted, and forced his mind to somewhere far less pleasant. Broken wires. Wrong-size headers. Clogged drains. A memory of her gripping a PVC pipe invaded his brain and suddenly, it was her small hands wrapped around him instead. How would she look on her knees for him? Would she be able to fit him all in her two hands? If not, would she use her –

“Fuck.” Joel gritted his teeth and fisted at the comforter. Get a grip.

He felt like he was going crazy. Probably from the lack of action outside of his own fist. It was finally catching up with him. Tommy did warn him this would happen and fuck – he hated when Tommy was right.

Joel thought back to the last time he had sex and cringed. Two years ago, but the memory was tattooed in his brain just like the monarch butterfly on the random woman’s lower back. It happened at a sleazy bar where everyone knew Tommy by name. He’d taken too many shots of Wild Turkey, then found himself fucking the woman in a one staller, quick and sloppy, right next to a clogged toilet. Not his proudest moment. He’d go to the grave blaming the whole thing on Tommy, who treated their rare nights out like the bachelor party he was still pissed off that he didn’t get to throw.

The truth was though, even before Joel’s current involuntary celibacy, his sex life had been relatively non-existent.

He hadn’t had sex on a semi-consistent basis since his 20’s. A casual hookup with a lady named Amy, who lived in the same apartment complex as him. No-strings attached. An arrangement born out of pure convenience rather than desire or intense lust. She lived in the apartment below him, and once a week came up after Sarah went to sleep and left before the condom hit the trash can. No surprise it ended once he moved out, and ever since then, it’d been random hookups and one-night stands whenever Tommy and him went out for a night.

Joel sighed and stared up at the moon-stain ceiling of his bedroom, careful not to make any sudden movements in hopes to fight down his erection. While still and quiet might’ve worked to spook a black bear, his boner was sadly proving more resilient.

With every passing minute, the warm tingly feeling in his belly spread like weeds through his body. His fingertips down to his toes. Fully hard, now. It became clear ignoring it was useless. He would just have to get this over with, so he could get some sleep tonight.

Joel forcibly kicked off his blankets, then shoved down his boxers. His cock thwacked against his stomach and the tip was already shiny. He preferred to do this in the shower to avoid a mess, the steady stream of water helping to cover up his dry, cracked hands better than saliva. But something was better than nothing. He spit into his hand until his mouth was dry, then wrapped it around his cock.

Whether in the shower or in his bed, it didn’t matter, Joel always jerked off like it was a chore. Hard and fast strokes where he could barely catch his breath. No need for soft and sensual, just a tight fist to take the edge off. This way, he found it easier to keep his less than friendly thoughts of Teddy at bay.

He tried his best not to think about Teddy while doing this because friends don’t imagine their friends while fucking their fist. And that was all she was, all she would ever be – a friend. If he could he wouldn’t have thought of anyone at all, but he needed someone to imagine to get off.

Instead of Teddy, he pictured a cover model from a 90’s Penthouse Magazine that he’d found in the guest room after Tommy moved out. A pretty brunette with big natural tits, who he didn’t have to work with tomorrow.

His room steadily filled with the wet slap of his hand, the low thrum of the oscillating fan as he pretended the nameless woman was riding him. He was brutally fucking his fist when the woman shape-shifted into Teddy. So abruptly that he could barely register that it was her taking him down to the hilt. Her rolling her hips. Her fingernails scratching over his ribs, his shoulders, his chest with a little smirk even more sinful than her tight jeans.

“Shit,” Joel hissed when he realized, but too late – his hips surged forward as he came. So sudden, so fast, it almost gave him whiplash.

Joel was not usually loud during sex, more of a grunter than anything else, but it had never been so vivid. So real. He could practically feel the wet-heat of her cunt clenching around him. He had to snag his bottom lip between his teeth to keep every needy and desperate sound from bleeding out of his mouth as his cock pulsed and throbbed against his palm. He wouldn’t let himself find out what her name tasted like when he moaned.

Clearly, this was not the first time she’d popped into his mind and he doubted it would be the last. He wouldn’t feel nearly as bad about it either, but there was a fuck-ton of cum on his stomach. Even a little on his chest. Fuck – he came so hard it made him lightheaded.

He let the shame simmer down and once he caught his breath, he carefully dug out a travel-pack of Kleenex from his nightstand. He didn’t even wanna count how many tissues it took to wipe the syrupy-hot evidence from his skin.

He’d be sticking to the shower from now until forever.

—

The days had come and went and over a week later, Joel had not jacked off again. Not in the shower, and definitely not in his bed. But that had nothing to do with Teddy. Seriously. It was just a coincidence.

Work had picked up. The heat wave had died out, giving way to more 80 degree days. Fall was fast approaching, by far their busiest season. There was a brand new neighborhood of bland cookie-cutter slab houses that had him working doubles everyday and judging by today, this week would be the exact same way.

The streets were dark and mainly deserted by the time Joel dropped Tommy off at his apartment complex. Joel glanced at his phone – once again – for any missed calls before heading home. Still nothing. No new voicemails – 0 messages.

The first and last time he heard from Sarah was after Teddy picked her up from school, right before heading into the mall. He’d told Sarah to call him once Teddy dropped her off, but she must’ve forgot. The same way she always forgot to lock the front door. He would be home in less than 5 minutes or else he would’ve called. But he would rather give her a talking-to in person.

For a second, he wondered if she and Teddy were still at the mall, but it was late. Nearly 9.

No one could spend 5 hours there. Hell, he could barely spend more than 2 without going stir-crazy.

The last thing he expected when pulling onto his street was to see Teddy’s car parked in front of his house. The pearly white shell was perfectly lit up underneath a street light.

What was she doing here?

He thought she would drop Sarah off and dip after their shopping trip, but obviously not. Dear God, he hoped she wasn’t waiting on him. Joel whipped into his driveway and hopped out without bothering to grab his tool box in the back.

Inside, the living room was lit up with every lamp turned on, but otherwise empty. It was still tidy from the cleaning he did on Sunday, thankfully. He threw his keys on the console table, shutting the front door with his foot. He heard movement upstairs and headed that way.

“Sarah,” he called out, mainly to give a heads-up and not scare them. “I’m home.”

“Finally,” Sarah said as he stepped into her room. It smelled like that Body Works store at Barton Creek that Sarah loved, but always had him leaving with a headache.

He stayed close to the fresh air and leaned against the door frame. Sarah was perched at her vanity, the counter in front of her completely buried under make-up, nail polish, and a bunch of other crap.

“Teddy’s helping me decide what to wear with my dress.” Sarah swiveled around in her stool to face him.

“Yeah, I see that.” Joel looked over at Teddy, who was standing behind Sarah with an earring pinched in each hand. The smile on her face was genuine. If she was in any real hurry to leave she didn’t show it. “When did y’all get back?”

“I don’t know. 8:15? 8:20? Somewhere around there.” Sarah shared a shrug with Teddy. A little over thirty minutes, not bad. With the mess, he would’ve thought closer to an hour.

“Dinner took a bit longer than I thought it would,” Teddy explained and his brows furrowed.

“Busy night at the food court or something?”

He noticed Sarah and Teddy share a secretive glance, and of course, they didn’t eat at the food court. He should’ve known better than to think Teddy would just take her to Sbarro. But out of every chain restaurant – did she have to pick the damn Cheesecake Factory?

Sarah was raving over the Mac & Cheese balls that definitely cost more than the 10 dollars he sent for baked ziti. Judging by the amount of shopping bags in the corner, Sarah had used her extra spending money on clothes instead of Chicken Costoletta.

He waited until Sarah turned her back to nail Teddy with a knowing look. She swatted it away like a bothersome fly. She could be so damn stubborn sometimes.

Later, he would deal with it. Money was not a topic he liked to discuss in front of Sarah. Besides, there were more important things at the moment.

“So, are you gonna show me this dress of yours?”

Sarah eagerly nodded and bounced over to her bed, picking up the black garment bag. It didn’t even allow him a peek at the color, not even when she hugged it tightly to her chest.

“Well, come on - don’t leave me hanging. I’ve been waiting all night.”

“Dad, you gotta see it on me or else you won’t get the full-effect,” she sassed, a duh implied in her tone. “Go downstairs, you and Teddy can wait-”

“Now, hold on there Sarah. It’s - it’s getting pretty late,” he pointed out, and Sarah’s fraying smile told him that she knew what he was trying to say. He hated disappointing her, but this was the right thing to do. “So Teddy, if you need to go home, don’t feel like you gotta stay.”

Selfishly, Joel wanted her to stay, but why would she? She had already seen the dress, already given up her entire evening for Sarah. This was a free out, and he expected her to take it.

Instead, She crossed her arms over her chest like a defiant child. “No way you’re getting rid of me that easily, Joel,” she said. “I’m sticking around to see your reaction.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, she slid past him, her chest brushing against his arm. She motioned him to follow and he did without question.

She led the way downstairs as if she’d been here before. But the few times she’d come by before to drop off paperwork she never made it past the front porch.

His pulse slightly hiked up seeing her in his living room for the first time. Her gaze scanning the camel-colored walls, the pictures of Sarah throughout the years, his guitar that he rarely found time to play. Above the DVD and CD rack was the only real piece of art in the room – if that’s what people would call the painting of waves he’d found at a garage sale, the same one where he got the mismatched pillows on the couch.

Interior design wasn’t his strong suit, but he was still proud of his home. Proud of himself for buying it on his own, for being able to prove this kind of place for his kid. All of this, from the rug to every decoration and lamp. It was best attempts to make this space feel homey – lived in for Sarah’s sake. She would not be the only kid in class growing up in a bachelor pad.

“So, this is Joel Miller’s house?” Teddy spun around to face him and he found that she looked really good next to his coffee table. “It’s nice. I like it.”

“Yeah?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, toeing the tile-carpet line that separated the kitchen from the living room.

“Especially the Cowboys decor.” She pointed her thumb at the framed blue star logo that was hung up by the stairs. “Did you know I used to wanna be a cheerleader for them?”

Joel’s mouth went drier than when eating pretzels. He rapidly shook his head, mainly to erase the mental image of her in that skimpy little outfit. It would probably haunt him in his dreams for the rest of his life.

He cleared his throat and took a seat on the couch. “I’m surprised Sarah didn’t give you a tour.”

“Oh, she did.” Teddy plopped down on the couch with him, keeping a friendly distance of a cushion. “But don’t worry, the grand tour didn’t include your bedroom. She said that was off limits.” She puckered her bottom lip, pouting as if actually disappointed.

“Trust me, you’re not missing much.”

“But isn’t that where the magic happens?”

Joel accidentally let out a snort. Magic. Nothing close to magic had ever happened in that room, unless what he did last week counted. “I think you’ve been watching too much Cribs.”

Her lips parted, her eyes lit up with a wild look of amusement. “Does Joel Miller secretly watch MTV?”

“Only against my will.” He jerked his chin towards the stairs. “She loves all that shit.”

“Yeah. She did talk a lot about True Life while at din…ner.” Teddy clipped her lips together, catching her slip.

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.” His tone carried a smug edge, making her huff in annoyance. “So, how ‘bout you tell me how much I owe you for it?”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Teddy,” he warned. Still, she insistently shook her head, refusing to make things easy for him.

“Sorry, but I can’t let you pay me back,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“Really? How come?”

She straightened her posture, the brown leather groaning underneath her. “Well, for one - it was my decision to take her there, wasn’t it?”

“So?”

“So, it doesn’t make sense for you to have to pay for something I decided, now does it?”

Joel licked his teeth at her loop-hole logic. She was eyeing him with a very serious expression, as if this wasn’t over 30? 35 bucks? Hell, there was probably enough in his wallet right now to cover it.

If this were anyone else, Joel would’ve already said fuck this and drained his wallet of every nickel and dime, just to be safe. He wouldn’t accept no for an answer because he didn’t need anyone’s help or handout. He made enough money to support not only himself, but his daughter perfectly fine. Thank you.

But this wasn’t just anyone – this was Teddy. Whether it was because she did his payroll or because she was so bullheaded, he didn’t know, but she had a funny way of making him fold.

“Secondly.” She lifted a second finger before he could raise the white flag. “It wouldn’t be right for you to pay me back for your own gift.”

Huh? “Gift?”

She hummed in response. “There might be a little early birthday present waiting for you in the fridge.”

He couldn’t remember the last time someone, other than Sarah, got him a birthday present. Most of the time, not even Tommy did; his presence was the present or whatever bullshit he said. But she’d thought of him. Him. The idea made his chest begin to swell like metal on a blazing summer day. He ducked his head to hide the heat rising in his cheeks.

“You didn’t need to get me any-”

Teddy grasped his arm, instantly turning the rest of his sentence into sawdust. His gaze flickered from her hand on his forearm, to her eyes. She really was beautiful, especially in the warm pool of lamp light in his living room.

“I wanted to,” she assured him with a voice as soft as her touch. Her thumb gently skimmed over his arm hair and he held back a shiver with the clench of his teeth. “It’s just Classic Vanilla Bean Cheesecake. A little boring, but Sarah said that’s your favorite.”

“It is.” His voice cracked like a pre-teen and embaressed, he averted his eyes. How ridiculous. He needed to get a grip. Pull himself together. He was acting like a fucking virgin. Joel swallowed and stiffly nodded. “Thank you.”

She gave his arm a small squeeze before pulling away. The spot where she touched him still tingled, still burned.

“It’s the least I could do, since I’ll be missing it.”

Joel brushed her off with an easy wave of his hand. Other than work, he didn’t have any plans, so she really wasn’t missing anything. “I think you’ll have more fun in Phoenix, anyway.”

“Just don’t let Tommy set the place on fire while I’m gone.”

“Do you have that little faith in me?” he asked – teased. It was only a few days. Leaving Thursday, back in the office by the following.

She lightly nudged his arm, just as a door opened.

“Are you ready?” Sarah called out, and his focus shifted to the bottom of the stairs.

“I was born ready, kiddo. So, come on, let’s see it.” Joel drummed his hands excitedly against his thighs.

Waiting there reminded him of the fashion shows she used to put on for him. She’d wait at the top of the stairs until he popped in the Whitney Houston CD. For the big finale, they would dance around the living room to I Wanna Dance With Somebody.

But Sarah didn’t appear in a bright-pink princess costume, but instead a pretty little purple dress. Her heels were real, not made out of cheap plastic or from the Dollar Tree. His little girl looked so grown up. The realization that she was grown up made the back of his eyes burn.

Joel scrubbed a hand down his slack, scruffy jaw, watching Sarah twist from side-to-side. The shiny material swished around her knees.

“Baby girl, you look - beautiful,” he said without trying to hide the crackle in his voice. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Sarah giggled, almost bashfully. “That’s exactly what Teddy said.”

“Well, that’s because it’s the truth,” Teddy stated earnestly. Sarah’s entire face lit up and God – she had such a killer smile. He would never get tired of seeing it.

When Sarah pulled back her hair to show Teddy two different pairs of earrings, she immediately went over to get a closer look.

Discussing jewelry and lip gloss, Sarah’s shiny wide eyes clung to her every word as if it was wrapped in gold, as if it held some infinite wisdom. It suddenly hit him that he’d never seen Sarah look at anyone like that. Not her favorite teacher. Not her best friend’s mom. Not even Mrs. Adler who lived next door and used to babysit her after school.

Poor Mrs. Adler, she meant well but Sarah and her could not have been more different. Thinking about it, Teddy was the first woman that Sarah shared anything in common with, who she didn’t have to share with the rest of the class or came second to a friend.

For once, Sarah had some special bond for herself.

His breath caught in his throat watching Teddy fuss with Sarah’s dress. Her eyes barely leaving Sarah’s bright face as she untwisted a strap and smoothed out a few spots in the back. For a second, he imagined her here with them every night – thought about how seamlessly she would fit into their lives.

Holy shit - what the fuck is he doing? Stop it.

Joel forced himself to look away, pruning those thoughts before they grew. The light, liquid warmth in his chest ran cold. It turned into mercury when it settled in his belly.

Luckily, Sarah and Teddy were too preoccupied with finishing details to notice him obsessively picking at his fingernails. He didn’t know what got a hold of him.

This was insane. She was his friend, his business partner, and whatever she was to Sarah that was more important than a stupid crush. No – he would not complicate a good thing with his feelings. Feelings she didn’t reciprocate. For God sake, she was dating someone else. Get over it.

Joel thought it might be a good thing that Teddy would be gone for a few days. More than ever, he needed some distance. Some time to help screw his head back on straight.

—

Too early on Tuesday morning, Joel sleepily fought the coffee machine until dark liquid gurgled and spewed into the pot.

“Have you heard from Teddy at all?” Tommy asked as Joel filled up a to-go cup.

“Oh yeah, hear from her every night before going to sleep.”

“Really?”

Joel shoved the coffee pot back inside its home, and blinked at Tommy. “Of course not. She’s on vacation. Why would she call me?”

He figured she’d brought whoever she was dating on the trip with her. They were probably going to her cousin’s wedding, meeting her college roommates new baby while he was here - in Texas. Alone. When he thought about it like that, it put everything into some much needed perspective.

Joel didn’t give Tommy a chance to respond before barging out and heading to the garage. He still was not used to seeing her empty desk instead of her warm smile, telling him to have a good day.

“So, do you miss her, yet?” Tommy asked while loading up the truck.

“She’s only been gone a few days,” Joel snorted, as if it was a ridiculous question to ask. “Why? Do you miss her?”

“Miss her coffee, that’s for damn sure.” He grimaced at the cup before taking a tentative sip. “Shit sucks. You add too much water.”

“I’d like to see you do any better.” Joel obnoxiously slurped on his drink, then winced. It did kinda taste like dirt. “She does make it better,” he conceded. “It’ll be nice to have her back.”

The distance had been a good thing for him, though. It was much easier for him to think without her dizzying perfume. What happened in his living room had been just a moment of weakness, of panic. Blown completely out of proportion.

The thing was – he’d always had a crush on her. It was nothing new, and he was perfectly happy with just this. With never being anything more than friends – her in his life, that was enough for him.

It had to be.

“Well, speaking of Thursday.” Tommy spoke in a tone that almost always meant he wanted something. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I gotta leave work early that day.”

“Why? Got an appointment or something?”

Tommy shook his head, then spewed a sob story that lasted nearly the entire drive to the site. His buddy Aaron had just broken up with his cheating girlfriend, and needed help moving out of their apartment. Too bad it wasn’t a different one of Tommy's military buddies or Joel would’ve immediately said no, but Aaron actually wasn’t a douchebag.

“Well, what time would you leave? Cause we gotta finish that block by Friday-”

“She works the night shift, so not until like 3 or 4,” he said, swaying him further. “And Aaron said he’ll pick me up from the site, so you ain’t gotta do anything.”

Joel shrugged, whatever. Fine. They would just have to work late tonight and tomorrow.

—-

So far, Thursday had not gone at all like Joel had anticipated. His reunion with Teddy this morning was disappointingly quick. It wasn’t like he expected her to run into his arms and hug him or anything dramatic like that, but he did think it would be more than just a few minutes of small talk where Tommy dominated most of the conversation with his plans for later.

Which turned out to be total bullshit by the way. 3 to 4 ended up being more like 1:30, ruining his chance to see Teddy this evening. The inspectors would be here tomorrow morning, so the frame had to be finished tonight with or without an extra set of hands.

Now, at 6:30, Joel was just leaving the site. He picked up Wendy’s to make up for his crummy day, only for the burger to be loaded with pickles and onions when he specifically asked for ketchup only. He still scarfed it down, along with a medium dry on the drive back to shop where the only thing that would be waiting for him was an empty office and a fat-ass stack of paperwork. Some supply sheets that could hopefully be knocked out before Sarah needed to be picked up later.

He pulled in through the back entrance and was taking his sweet time unloading the truck. Lowly humming Wedding Bells by the great Hank Williams when the door opened with a screech. The sound echoed around the steel walls of the garage and he jerked, nearly dropping a nail gun on his foot. Somehow, he managed to catch it just before it slid off the rack.

He turned around and - “Teddy?”

“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” she said in a sweet drawl that made his pulse race for an entirely different reason.

He stared at her dumbly, blinking rapidly to make sure this was not just his imagination. She was still here. He wet his throat with a hard swallow. “You surprised me.”

“I can tell.” She giggled and embarrassment swarmed his neck like fire ants. He couldn’t believe she just witnessed him flail around like an idiot. He promptly went back to gathering up the last of the wooden boards and stacking them in the corner. “Did you not see my car out front?”

“I came in off 77th,” he explained, brushing the dust from his hands onto his jeans.

“I could’ve helped.” She leaned against the door, opening it wider as he walked over.

“Nah, I got it,” he said with a casual shake of his head. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin that shirt, anyway.” His eyes dipped over the satiny material, this time a deep maroon.

“It is a great shirt.” She playfully bumped into his side with her shoulder when he stepped inside. The delicious scent of her soap sent an electric jolt up his spine. He matched her steps down the hallway. “What’re you still doing here anyway?”

“Well, there’s the Fox Ridge pitch tomorrow and there’s two more next week. And I have been gone for like a week.” She tucked herself back behind her desk. “Remember?”

Oh yeah, he remembered.

For a few minutes, they caught up on work and talked about homecoming, which was Saturday, and Sarah, who was currently at her friend’s house making posters or whatever for the big game tomorrow. He asked if she enjoyed her trip, which she obviously did from the glow around her. He almost asked about the wedding until he noticed all the files on her desk, the neat stacks of paper labeled with post-it notes that clearly showed she was busy.

He decided not to be selfish and take up anymore of her time and instead went into his office.

“Let me know if you need anything,” she told him before he closed the door. He left it slightly cracked in a way that seemed inviting before taking a seat at his desk. He would’ve just left it wide open if he thought it would be possible to focus. But even the back of her head could be enough to distract him.

Just like the rest of the shop, his office had been recorated by Teddy when Danny retired. He’d actually offered her the office, multiple times, but she refused. She preferred the natural light in the front, and he couldn’t blame her when the one window in here was puny and overlooked the trash cans.

Without her, Joel would’ve left the walls as blank and as white as Danny, the bookshelves just as bare and dusty, and there wouldn’t be a single lamp, let alone two. But he definitely appreciated the lamps this late in the day when the overhead light would burn too loud and bright.

Supposedly, she’d gotten them for free from a friend that was moving. He’d believed the story, at first, until one day she showed up with a giant picture of Yellowstone River, two more of different landscapes. A Golden forest. A mountain range. She’d just stumbled upon them at a Goodwill for the same price as a pizza. And then she’d filled the bookcases that framed his desk with architectural books that would likely never be read and tiny fake plants, which he couldn’t kill. Those she’d claimed were found at a garage sale for the magical price of a gift card to her favorite nearby lunch spot.

She would’ve decorated the office for her dad if he would’ve let her. Danny didn’t care though if she found the space so depressing when it came down to money. But Joel could not find it in him to tell her no when she looked so damn pleased with herself afterwards. She’d done such a nice job that he wished he could use the office more. One day he probably would when Sarah moved out. He had a love-hate relationship with being home alone. The quiet could be peaceful, then other times forlorn.

After finishing up two supply lists for upcoming projects, Joel went to start on a third when his door jarred open with a soft knock. Teddy was hovering around the threshold with a file in one hand.

“Are you busy?”

Joel shook his head, shoving the folder aside then signaling her to come in. She stepped inside, nudging the door shut with her hip. It didn’t latch. No one else was here, otherwise he would’ve pointed it out. But he didn’t know why she shut it in the first place, honestly.

“Sorry to bother you-”

“You’re not bothering me,” he interrupted. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s the Fox Ridge pitch.” She sauntered over to his desk, hips swaying and squeezed into a pair of black jeans. Her shirt was gaping open in the front from the top two buttons being left undone and wasn’t it just one earlier? It was always one, right?

He realized it would’ve been easy to catch a peek of her bra when she bent over to hand him the file, but like a good person – like a good friend – he looked away. His gaze remained firmly fused to her face until she sat down in the chair across from him.

She wanted his thoughts on the pitch, and he agreed to take a look. Based on the first page it looked perfect, and even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be much help. After all, she was the brains of the operation where he was just the muscle.

“So, how was the wedding?” Joel flipped onto the next page without looking up. “Your cousin’s right?”

“Good memory.” She hummed, sounding pleasantly surprised. Her nails clicked along the steel arm of the chair. “But yeah, the wedding was… it was nice.”

“Was it?” Joel glanced up at her with a suspiciously quirked brow. “Cause, you ain’t gotta lie to me. I won’t tell.”

She clicked her tongue as if her reluctant tone wasn’t what led him to such a conclusion.

“I’m not lying, it was really nice. A lot of family that I haven’t seen in a while was there. And my cousin has amazing taste, so the wedding was gorgeous. It was small and intimate, but.” She let out a big breath. “It’s just everyone except my dad and I had dates.”

“Did you not bring your-” Too late, the words had poured out before he could think twice and he cursed his stupid, overly curious mind. He had no idea what to say to cover up his lapse, so he just didn’t. It just hung in the air and he turned to the next page without reading the last.

“Bring my what, Joel?” Her voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question. He peered up at her and she looked him directly in the eyes. It was as if she knew what he was going to say. It was as if she wanted him to ask.

Joel screwed the blue pen into his grip. “I thought - I thought you had a boyfriend.”

At that, she reclined back in the chair. She crossed her legs and tilted her head as if to study him. “What made you think I have a boyfriend?” she asked with such wild amusement that it confused him.

Didn’t she? Tommy had seen the card, the flowers as well, so it wasn’t something he just made up in his head. She was or used to be dating someone. Oh – maybe it wasn’t a boyfriend, but a girlfriend. Not that he was about to ask. God no. He’d butted into her personal life enough for one night.

“Well, you know.” Joel scratched the back of his head, then pointed in the direction of the break room. “There were those flowers, remember?”

Her eyes widened – her lips parted. “Yeah, I remember. I just, I guess I didn’t think you would.”

“Well, it ain’t everyday someone gets a garden delivered here.” He meant it as a joke, but it came off rather jealous. He tacked on a chuckle for good measure. She snorted, so it must’ve worked.

“Okay fair. I was dating someone, but that’s over. Been over. We broke up like 4 months ago? So, not long after that, actually.”

Joel grimaced. He could barely focus on her being single when he felt like shit. No one wanted to be reminded of their ex. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She brushed off like it was no big deal.

Still, he remained silent as the grave because what the hell was he supposed to say now?

“I was the one who ended things, just in case that makes you feel better.” Of course she was. No one in their right mind would break up with someone as amazing as her. “But since we’re on the topic and all - what about you, Joel?”

“What about me?” Joel finally met her eyes and her lips twisted into a mischievous smirk that made his stomach swoop.

“Do you have anyone special in your life?”

Joel stiffly shook his head. “Can’t say I do.”

“Anyone not special?” she nudged him, suggestively wiggling her brows.

Again – a shake of his head. “I don’t really date.”

“What a shame.” Her voice was almost husky, breathy. She leaned forward slightly. “I’m sure all the single mom’s at Sarah’s school are devastated.”

Joel batted his hand in the air with an ugly snort.

“What? I’m serious,” she said without twitching. Her eyes momentarily flickered towards his lips, and suddenly, his throat felt like the mostly burnt bagel he had for breakfast. “I bet you have all of them wrapped around your finger.”

“You’re just - you’re just saying that.”

“Am I?” Her voice was silky, even silkier than her shirt. There was a cool confidence radiating from her as her fingernails galloped in a slow rhythm along the arm rest.

She was staring at him, pinning him against his seat. The hair on his thighs lifted and tickled the denim. The energy in the room had shifted, the air between them had bent and blurred into something that Joel could not quite describe. But he could feel it, sense it when it surged and rippled between them and sent an electric shiver up his spine.

She licked her lips and rolled them together until they were shiny with her spit. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal trapped and he wanted to pounce over the desk and taste her spit. He nearly did until he felt a stirring in his jeans.

What the hell was going on? What was he thinking? He needed to get his head screwed back on straight before he did something incredibly stupid.

Joel shot from his chair like a firework. Abrupt and loud and white-hot. He turned away and towards the filing cabinets on the back wall. He didn’t have a plan, but there had to be something in there that he could pretend to need.

She was quicker than his flustered brain and rose to her feet before he could make it past the edge of his desk.

“Joel.”

It stopped him, his feet stuck to the floor like wet cement. She approached him like a frightened deer. Steady. So quiet. Her steps barely scratched against the cheap carpet.

Joel realized now, right now was the time to speak. To say something. Anything. Find an excuse. Stop standing here like a dumb-struck baboon. But there was only one word that managed to leave his lips, a breath -

“Teddy.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered into the shrinking space between them. “I know.”

I know? He had no clue what that was supposed to mean, but before he could ask – she cradled the back of his neck and pressed her lips against his. Joel’s eyes widened and all he could see was the soft planes of her face, her fluttering eyelids, the fan of her raven-stroke lashes.

She was kissing him. Holy shit. She was actually kissing him. When he finally registered that, he closed his eyes and was overcome by the taste of her spit and a hint of Burt’s Bees chapstick, which he found oddly arousing.

For a moment, he was too damn stunned to do anything but move his mouth along hers. Then, he realized his arms were hanging like spaghetti noodles at his side and reached out and clutched onto her waist. His thumbs delicately swirled the fabric of her shirt. So damn smooth, just as he expected.

Joel gulped when she drew back, just far enough to meet his eyes. He had no idea what the fuck this was – let along if it was anything at all. Perhaps, this was it. Just a stolen kiss, late one night in his office.

Joel braced himself for her to yank away, to tell him it was a mistake, that she didn’t know what she was thinking. Let’s forget the whole thing.

But she didn’t.

She just continued to toy with the curly ends of his hair, twirling them around her fingers as her other hand fisted the loose collar of his shirt. He was wedged between her warm-heaving body and his desk. The edge was slightly burrowing into his lower back, but currently he couldn’t care less.

Her gaze dipped to where his jeans were painfully tented. A hot burst of shame ignited behind his earlobes. The flex of his fingers bit into the hollow below her ribs.

“It’s - it’s been a while,” he found himself explaining because there was no good reason, at his age, to be this turned on from just kissing.

“Do you want me to stop?” She slid up against him, sealing herself against his chest. It appeared she knew the answer before he could dumbly shake his head.

This time – his lips met hers somewhere in the middle. Where the first kiss was gentle, testing the waters like the first sip of fresh coffee, this one was deeper. More intense – a whole gulp. Her urgent lips captured his starstruck mouth and right then he knew nothing, no one, would ever compare to this. Not even close.

The way she kissed was like some special art form that only she could master. It felt so damn good to have her fingers molding through his hair with baby scratches over his scalp and the scent of her soap flooding his chest with heat. It consumed him, his body, his mind. The rapid pulse in his ears muted his every coherent thought.

When she gently nibbled on his bottom lip, he moaned – Teddy. She licked her name from his lips, then eagerly tasted it on his tongue as if she couldn’t get enough.

And oh God – her tongue was equally as impressive as her other skills. The tip of it dragged over his top palate, making it tingle like a buzz off tequila. She stroked and swirled and twisted around his tongue as if knotting a cherry stem. No one had ever taken the time to explore him so thoroughly. Frankly, he didn’t know there was that much of his mouth to explore.

Despite her exploration, Joel’s hands were burning into her waist, still holding her at 10 and 2 like a student driver. Like this was a chaperoned middle school dance. Slowly he roamed them down to grip her hips, but no further. He didn’t want to push it. He didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want to spoil this moment from something stupid like getting too greedy.

Joel was fully okay with her in the driver seat. Even though he was usually in charge, he was happily letting her lead. Well, actually, he didn’t know if he was really letting her or if she just was. He didn’t care either way when she was touching him.

She broke the kiss and her lips swerved to his cheek. His jaw, paying extra attention to the patch in his beard where no hair could grow. His head tipped back when she buried her nose into the crook of his neck and deeply inhaled. After a hard-days work he likely smelled of sweat instead of his soap, but she groaned anyway.

“Have you ever thought about this before?” She breathed against his neck.

“I mean, I-” He choked on his words as her tongue slicked over the thick vein beneath his jaw. “I - I tried not to.”

“But you did.” He could feel her lips split into a grin before she sucked on a spot below his ear. He hoped it would leave a mark. The idea of seeing it tomorrow in the mirror made his cock twitch and throb and it ached.

“Uh-huh,” he whimpered, rather pathetically. It actually sounded like it fucking hurt.

“You know what?” She playfully nipped at the spot that would soon sadly fade. She then met his gaze with a coy grin. I thought about you too.”

“You did?” he croaked.

She hummed in response, her fingers trailing down his chest. His stomach quivered, his breath catching before she stopped just above the band of his jeans and whispered, “But unlike you - I didn’t try to stop.”

Joel growled, unable to form a coherent thought. His brain was too preoccupied trying to process how any of this was happening. It had to be a dream or an optical illusion or some shit. No way it could be real. But her small hand cupped his cock and that certainly felt real.

“Fuck - you feel even bigger than I imagined.” She palmed at his bulge with a light pressure. His knees nearly buckled despite the thick, denim barrier.

Now, he was really wishing he jerked off last night – or anytime in the past week or so. God – he was pent up. It wouldn’t take much for him to break.

“Can I see it?”

Joel’s mouth went half-slack and she blinked at him without flinching.

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out. Not great, but at least coherent.

She sank to her knees, her eyes never leaving his. Pretty. Pretty. So damn pretty. Those two undone buttons exposed the tops of her breasts, the peek of a plain white bra that he found sexier than he should’ve.

His restless hands found solid ground on the desk behind him. Just in time as she balled the hem of his shirt in her tiny fists and bunched it towards his waist. The office air blew cool over his newly bare skin.

Joel wondered how he compared to the type of guy she usually dated. Did she like meatheads with six packs? Or guys with scrawny arms? Or did she like them somewhere in the middle; someone more like him? His body used to be more solid in his 20’s, but softened with age. He was still strong though, still firm in most spots aside from his stomach.

He caught himself sucking in as her wild eyes wandered over his husk-tan skin and across the dark scatter of hair around his navel. Then, she devoured it, mapping every inch with her wet, hot mouth.

It was a miracle that he managed to stay upright under her attention. Any attention was new. He was not used to any teasing or foreplay or whatever delicious torture this was called.

No.

Joel was used to his own calloused hands. Quick, rough fucks with women who called him Joe or Jack or something else entirely because why did it matter if it meant nothing.

But did this mean anything? To him, yes. To her – he had no clue. Dear God – he hoped so, though.

With a smirk she unzipped his jeans and shoved them down by his knees. The wet spot on his boxers was impossible to miss. Of course, he’d worn light gray today instead of something discreet like black.

“It’s been awhile,” he sheepishly reminded her. He didn’t want her to think he was always this big of a mess. Because he wasn’t. Seriously, he really wasn’t.

“It’s alright, just relax.” She leaned forward and mouthed at the stain.

But it was impossible to relax when her nose nudged the underside of his cock, her mouth was so close to the tip that every muscle in his body tightened. He gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring with the remnants of his dwindling self-control.

She must’ve realized she was ruining him because she pulled back with a wicked grin. She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband and tugged. His freed cock nearly smacked her in the face. The flush red tip was weeping.

“Shit, you’re thick,” she gasped. Women had told him that before, but he much preferred hearing it from her. The sweet honesty in her voice, the clear surprise. It stroked his ego and filled him with a strange sense of pride as if he’d actually accomplished anything profound, and not just good genetics.

She licked and spit into her palm before stroking his cock with a loose fist from root to tip. Her thumb swiped over the blunt head, smearing his pre-come and making his hips jerk and involuntary spasm.

Joel opened his mouth to apologize, but was quickly silenced by her tongue: warm, wet, the slightly rough texture tracing over the thick vein that ran down his length.

He gripped the desk until his knuckles bleached. She placed her free hand on his hip as if to help steady him before guiding him between her perfect, plush lips. Just the tip, at first. But it still was nearly enough to finish him. He didn’t remember the last time someone put their mouth on him.

Joel desperately wished to witness this moment. He wanted to memorize the glossy gleam in her eyes, the way she looked in front of him and on her knees and how her mouth stretched perfectly around his cock. But it was too much. The weight between his thighs was becoming oppressive. If he watched, he’d shatter. And he’d be horrified if he finished that fast.

So, he focused on the ceiling tiles instead. On the black specks that formed different shapes as she took another inch of him into her feverish mouth.

Already, she had him panting like a dog. Unable to fully catch his breath even when she released his cock with a loud pop. She continued to pleasure him with long strokes of her fist. Her tongue dipped into his leaking slit, lighting up nerve endings that he didn’t know existed. It ripped an ungodly sound from his mouth.

“Oh, you liked that?” she asked, very smug. Then repeated the movement once, twice, before eagerly swallowing his cock again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hand flew to her shoulder and squeezed as she took him deeper – deeper. Holy shit. Where did she learn to do this? This was like pornstar level good.

She had taken him halfway down her throat when he felt a shock run across his spine, a familiar tugging in his balls. His release was building and brewing in his lower belly like a thunderstorm.

But Joel clenched his teeth. No – he could not come. Not yet. He needed to get himself under control before he finished in less than five minutes.

He shut his eyes, but not even the rumble of his eardrums could drown out the loud, lewd squelch of her mouth. It was fucking filthy. The swirl of her expert tongue around his shaft had him unraveling fast like a loose spool of thread.

“Teddy,” he moaned her name as he got close – too damn close.

He tried to tell her to slow down, but the words stuck in his throat. Nothing came out except grunts. Just short groans. Her lips kissed the cusp of her fist, completely engulfing him in her honey-slobber and the softness of her hand.

His hips instinctively bucked, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat and she gagged. The walls of her inner mouth shuddered and pulsed around him and –

“Shit.” His eyes flew open but before he could warn her – she hollowed her cheeks and sucked.

He groaned her name, low and unrestrained, as the pleasure electrified his spine. It arced down his thighs before he could push her off. For a moment, he lost himself in the high, in the tide of her mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed on her tongue as he came.

Hard.

As if he hadn’t come in months – years.

In a daze, he blinked down at her and saw his cum dripping down her chin, leaking from the corners of her mouth as she continued to twist her fist and suck down the aftershocks. It would’ve been easily the most erotic sight, if it didn’t suddenly hit him how fast he came.

The light-headed euphoria quickly morphed into vertigo. He was horrified, mortified, staring down at her.

He didn’t know what to say, and for once, it seemed like neither did she. She released his cock from her mouth, but otherwise didn’t move. Not even to wipe the come off her face.

She swallowed, and opened her mouth. But a familiar ding tore through the thick, sticky air. The bell above the front door.

“Joel? Teddy?”

No way. It was motherfucking Tommy.

—-

The idiot had forgotten his house keys in Joel’s truck. In the cupholder, nonetheless.

Joel had somehow managed to button his jeans, and hand her a tissue before Tommy busted into his office. She’d pretend to blow her nose to clean the come off her face, riddling him with another level of shame. So embarrassed that he could barely look at her without feeling like he swallowed a handful of nails.

He threw Tommy the car keys to get rid of him, but found out that Aaron had left. Tommy had told him that Joel could just drive him home without even asking. And usually it wouldn’t be a big deal.

But Tommy was so goddamn clueless. He just swung around the door frame, blabbering about how the girlfriend showed up and there was a big blow up in the parking lot and Joel was just waiting for him to notice the smell of sex and sweat or even the cloying embarrassment. Or Teddy’s swollen and suck-plump lips and surely Joel looked like a flushed-beet wreck.

So how did Tommy seem to remain completely oblivious?

When Sarah called a few minutes later, Joel left. Well, first he made sure everything was locked up and she was safely in her car, but otherwise fled like a coward.

The shop had officially disappeared from his rear view mirror and now Joel couldn’t remember if he even told her goodbye. She just gave him the best blow job of his life, and he couldn’t even wave?

“Are you gonna get Sarah or drop me off first?” Tommy asked and Joel snapped at him like a venus fly trap.

“Doesn’t really make sense to go out of my way just to drop you off first, now does it?”

Tommy threw up his hands. “Well, fuck. How am I supposed to know where Sarah’s friend lives?” He hurled himself against the passenger seat and mumbled under his breath, “Asshole.”

Joel winced. He was kinda being an asshole, taking out his anger on Tommy. He wasn’t even mad at Tommy. Annoyed, yes, but not mad. The only person Joel was mad at here was himself.

He was mad at himself for cumming too fast, and even more so for running away afterwards like a scared hound with his soft, spent cock tucked between his legs. Recalling the complete shit show, Joel’s grip coiled around the steering wheel until the leather squealed in protest. He could still feel the ring of her spit drying around him.

Joel sighed and stared out the windshield at the night sky, the truck bouncing along the uneven back road full of potholes. Why did it feel like he just fucked everything up?

“Hey, are you alright?” Tommy’s voice was lower, quiet – concerned.

Joel scratched at his jaw, at the bald patch she’d kissed, before nodding his head.

“Yeah, sorry - I’m just tired.” He’d rather die and be reincarnated into a gnat than tell Tommy about how he just prematurely ejaculated. He’d had enough embarrassment for one night.

“Did I-” Tommy paused and for a moment it seemed like he decided to keep his mouth shut. Until he sighed. “I don’t know, but did I interrupt something between you and Teddy?”

A little too late to start being observant, Tommy.

Joel approached a red light, the truck crawling to a complete stop.

“Come on. What would be going on between us that you could interrupt?” Joel looked over at Tommy and his brows were furrowed. In the pool of orange light from the street lamps that speckled the cab, Joel saw the realization flash across Tommy’s face. The moment everything clicked into place.

Joel abruptly turned away, not in the mood for pity. After what felt like forever, the light finally turned green.

“Joel, I didn’t realize that you-”

“Don’t.” His voice was quiet, stern without being rude. “Just don’t.”

For once, Tommy didn’t demand to have the last word. Instead, he slowly and silently fell back into the seat as if to fade into the shadows. She still had a boyfriend as far as Tommy knew, and Joel would not be informing him otherwise. This way was easier.

The rest of the drive was filled with Willie Nelson’s album Always on My Mind, the rumble of the engine, and the buzzing of Joel’s thoughts.

How was he supposed to face her tomorrow?

—-

On Friday morning, Joel drove to the shop with a terrible pit in his stomach. His eyes felt gritty, and there was a dark shadow of gray underneath from a restless night sleep. He ate a bland piece of toast for breakfast, and even that made him feel sick. When he turned onto the street, he thought it might reappear all over the windshield.

But Teddy was not there. Just a pink post-it note on the full, freshly brewed coffee pot.

Fox Ridge pitch - Wish me luck.

He’d forgotten that it was this early. Joel supposed he’d have to get here on time this evening to see her.

Joel spent the day trying not to go insane. Despite the pounding of his hammer, memories of last night beat against his skull. Anytime he touched his lips, or the spot behind his ear, he could practically feel the ghost of her kisses. They had been desperate, heated. Hadn’t they? It had seemed she’d wanted him, just as much as he’d always wanted her. She’d even admitted to imagining him in some sexual way.

But what about now?

He didn’t have a clue.

Eight hours later, and halfway from a complete tailspin, the truck decided not to start. The engine clicked and clicked and clicked, but never went. Even though he begged for it to start. The concrete guys had tried to jump it with no success. It’d taken everything in him not to sock Tommy in the jaw when he gave him that told-you-so look while calling a tow truck.

The concrete guys were still on their best behavior and gave them a ride to the mechanic shop. It was run by one of Tommy’s highschool friends, Zach, who was nice enough to stick around past 5 on a Friday night.

5:25 and this was a fucking nightmare. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to die. As if he hadn’t fucked up enough last night when he bolted, the last thing Joel wanted as her thinking that he was avoiding her. The least he could do was extend the same courtesy she had this morning.

So midway through Tommy and Zach examining what was under the hood, he broke away to call her.

Joel slapped his cellphone against the flat of his palm as he headed outside the entrance. With a deep breath he dialed the shop’s number. The ring-ring-ring in his ears made his chest feel like it was about to explode.

“Teddy’s Company, how can I help you?”

“Hey Teddy.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s Joel,” he said, very awkwardly.

“Hey! Hi. What’s up?”

Joel kicked at the loose rocks by his feet. “Well, the truck - uh the truck’s acting up. We had to get a tow, and Tommy and I are - the mechanic’s checking it over right now.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, so I just wanted you to know - I don’t know when we’ll get back to the shop.” Joel lightly hit the center of his head with the circle of his clenched fist. He sounded like an idiot.

“No - yeah. That makes sense.” Silence crackled on the other line and it was unbearable.

Joel scratched his temple, unsure what to say next. He wanted to talk about last night, just to get it over with, but it wasn’t the right time. That was not a conversation to have over the phone. Not like at work was much better, but still.

“Well,” Teddy broke the silence. There was a rustling of something on the other line – papers? Her bag? “Do you need-”

There was a massive boom behind him – Tommy pounded on the glass door and motioned him inside.

“What was that?” she asked and Joel mouthed at Tommy to give him a second.

“Sorry, it’s Tommy. I think the mechanic’s done with the inspection.”

“Okay - well, I was just gonna ask if you guys-”

Tommy banged again – harder. It was Friday, so he probably had a date with his favorite dive bar. Joel glared at him and flipped him off.

“It sounds like you need to go,” she said.

“Sorry.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and he was gonna kill Tommy. “But uh - have a nice weekend, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, you too, Joel.”

Once Joel found out the battery just needed to be replaced, Tommy’s pissy mood made a lot more sense. It would be a decently fast and easy fix – at most an hour.

Joel plopped down in a chair in the lobby and mindlessly flipped through a car magazine. He didn’t even register the pictures that swished by, too busy reeling from that awkward phone call.

Had he really told her to have a nice weekend? He wanted to melt into the cracks and scuffs in the black-and-white tiles. Real smooth, Joel. He sucked at this shit.

What was going to happen next?

He couldn’t tell where her head was at from the phone call that somehow didn’t even last as long as him last night. God – she probably thought he had some type of erectile dysfunction and he couldn’t even blame her. There was no excuse for a man at his age to cum that fast from a blow job, nonetheless. He was not a fucking teenager.

The longer he sat there in the empty lobby with the melancholy of Johnny Cash’s voice, the more he began to doubt. It spread and swelled in his lower abdomen like a virus. Syphilis. If it festered for too long, he felt like it might turn him insane.

He didn’t know how he would survive the weekend like this.

—

Saturday was usually his day for relaxing. All his responsibilities could wait until Sunday, but he couldn’t sit still.

Up early, he and Sarah went to the Farmer’s Market and ran errands until lunch time. He deep cleaned the house in the afternoon. The entire main floor was vacuumed and swept, the kitchen counters looked brand new, and even his bed was freshly made with dryer warm sheets. He was determined to keep busy instead of wallowing in his looming conversation with Teddy.

It might’ve worked if Sarah didn’t innocently keep bringing her up. With homecoming tonight, she was apparently in the mood to reminisce, especially after she’d gotten all dolled up.

They were halfway to her friend Ashley’s house and the drive had been filled with Teddy. Their mall trip – the dress – the tiny details Teddy helped pick out.

“I brought my polaroid camera.” Sarah pointed at her overnight bag in the backseat of his truck. “So, you can take a photo of me and show Teddy on Monday.”

“Oh, yeah. She’ll like that.” Joel forced a smile as the hand of his knee flexed, biting into denim.

He couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time Sarah mentioned her. Teddy would never cut Sarah out, he knew that, but things were bound to be different now. It couldn’t go back to what it used to be, not after she’d seen his cock and swallowed his come. The relationship would inevitably change between them.

He just hoped their friendship could be somewhat salvaged. For Sarah’s sake, especially.

Joel was able to push that out of his mind when they arrived at Ashley’s house. The Murphy’s had been nice enough to invite the entire group, including parents, to come over and take photos. He couldn’t imagine fitting 14 teenagers and their moms in his puny backyard where he could barely fit a playset. Luckily, the Murphy’s lived on a big, well-landscaped lot that backed up against a man-made lake, and not directly into a neighbor’s house.

The few other dad’s who showed up were all huddled together under the covered patio with their eyes transfixed on the TV screen. The Longhorns were taking on the Wildcats. Still in the first quarter, so it wasn’t even a good game yet.

Instead of cracking open a beer, Joel joined the mom’s by the rose bushes.

“Oh my God, Joel. Sarah looks beautiful.”

“She’s gorgeous.”

“Stunning.”

They all complimented Joel as if his genes actually put up a fight. Sarah was Lisa’s exact twin. Even more so when her gorgeous thick curls were pulled back into a loose bun with a few loose strands framing her face. The mom’s were right though – Sarah did look beautiful. But then again, she always did; with or without all the glitter and make-up.

Sarah’s date was a scrawny, soccer player with red hair who was her best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Eric. Joel could hardly believe his daughter was at an age to even have a date, even if it was just a set up. It made him feel incredibly old when the kid called him sir.

Based on first impressions, Eric seemed nice enough. The kid took a few photos of Joel and Sarah together in front of the Mexican bush sage. The purple flowers were almost an exact match to Sarah’s dress. Joel had hoped that somebody would offer when he’d changed out of his dusty clothes earlier and into a different, slightly nicer white t-shirt and a pair of his best dark wash jeans.

Still, while Joel wouldn’t threaten the kid with a fist or scare the shit out of him with a war story like Tommy would, Joel did give Eric the look – Don’t try anything, bud. When Joel shook his hand, it felt like wet paint.

Good.

Joel thanked the minivan moms for driving, Ashley’s mom for hosting the sleepover afterwards, while snapping enough pictures to fill up two of Sarah’s bulletin boards.

“You look beautiful, baby girl,” he told Sarah one more time before hugging her goodbye.

She promised to be good and handed him the developed Polaroid, specifically for Teddy. He stashed it safely away in the middle console of his truck then drove away.

At home, an empty living room quietly greeted him. Not yet 6 P.M. – the sun continued to shine and slice through the curtains onto the beige carpet. Joel had no idea what to do with the rest of his evening. Football, he supposed. Maybe rent a movie – Ocean’s Eleven or Training Day, something Sarah had no interest in ever seeing.

He whipped up a ham and cheese sandwich and cracked open a beer. Rather than eating alone at the dining room table, he set up on the couch and ate in the company of Longhorn football.

It didn’t take long, not even halfway finished with his sandwich, before a Folgers commercial came on and he thought about Teddy. She never even used Folgers, but just coffee in general made him think of her. At this point, it was actually pathetic how everything reminded him of her.

For a few minutes, Joel debated on calling her and figuring this shit out already. This limbo was killing him. He even pulled out his phone from his back pocket, found her name in his contact list and let it taunt him, his thumb hovering over the call button for longer than he’d like to admit.

But what would he say if she answered?

It had been two days and he still had no clue. He was still trying to figure out how to navigate this whole situation. He wanted to handle it with care but it felt like holding a dandelion puff in his rough calloused hands. Inevitably, it would break and fall apart with something as simple as a gust of wind. Joel carelessly tossed his phone on the coffee table and groaned.

At halftime, he went and cleaned off his empty plate in the sink. Using his hands always helped distract him. Maybe he needed a hobby. He could always play his guitar, finally learn Never Going Back Again. He’d always wanted to try out woodworking since it used to be his dad’s favorite pastime.

Joel was drying off the dish when the doorbell rang.

“Hold on,” he yelled, wiping off his hands with the rag. He didn’t know who that could be, but he’d bet everything in his wallet right now it was Tommy. He knew Sarah would be gone all night, and probably wanted to drag Joel to some bar across town for a wild night out.

Joel was coming around to the idea of spending his night in a smoky, loud bar instead of cooped up in his house when he opened the door. It was definitely not his brother, not even close.

“Teddy.”

She was on his front porch in a pale blue sundress that instantly made his mouth water. The buttery light from the budding sunset sky behind her framed her silhouette.

“Sorry to just stop by.” She smoothed down her dress and tugged at the hem. “But can I come in?”

—-

She didn’t say why she was here when he let her inside, but he supposed she didn’t have to.

It was actually Joel who broke the silence. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked. His mom would lurch from her grave if he didn’t act like a good host.

“Water,” she said with a small smile. “Tap’s fine.”

It was a good thing she didn’t follow him into the kitchen. His hands were shaking so bad that he nearly dropped the glass on the tile floor.

When he came back into the living room, she was sitting on the couch. He handed her the glass, his fingertips brushing over hers. She politely thanked him before taking a tentative sip. The cushion whined under his weight when he sat. These were the exact same spots from the night she was here with Sarah. This time, however, the empty cushion felt less like a safety net and more like a boulder about to crush him.

He turned off the TV, the newfound silence giving further evidence of what happened the other night.

She clinked the glass onto the coffee table, then clasped her hands stiffly in her lap. On the very edge of her seat, she looked ready to bolt at any moment. “I knew Sarah would be at the dance or, at least dinner.”

“Yeah, dinner. I think the dance starts around 8,” he said and she nodded. He wished he would’ve remembered to bring the Polaroid inside. Maybe it would’ve helped ease the tension.

But no – he needed to quit procrastinating and apologize for how he reacted the other night.

Buck up – do it.

For a moment, Joel searched for what to say, scratching the skin around his neck where it felt thickest.

“Joel,” Teddy said before he could speak. She shifted in her seat and when she opened her mouth, he braced himself for her to call it nothing but a mistake. “I wanted to come by and apologize about the other night.”

His brows furrowed.

“Apologize?”

“Yes, Joel,” she answered, very sternly. He noticed a pained look in her eyes before she stared down at her stark white tennis shoes.

“What? I - what?” He sounded like a bumbling drunk and for once, he wished the right words would just come naturally to him.

She sighed.

“After our phone call yesterday,” she started, only stopping for a split-second to clasp her gold necklace between her fingers. “I feel like I might’ve pushed things too far the other night. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable-”

“Uncomfortable? No. Shit.” Joel insistently shook his head. He would personally damn himself to hell if he sat here any longer and let her take any blame for this. Exhaling, he scruffed a hand over his jaw. “Look, I’ll admit - I panicked, but that ain’t on you.”

“How is it not?”

“Cause you did nothing wrong. Fuck. I’m the one who should be apologizing, alright? I acted like a goddamn idiot, Teddy. It’s just-” Joel let out a self-deprecating laugh, bashfully tucking his chin towards his chest. “I don’t usually, ya know - that fast. Just got embarrassed, that's all.”

He absently rubbed at a patch of distressed leather on the arm of the couch.

“Well, I never wanted to make you feel embarrassed.” She scooted closer – closer. Slowly. For what felt like the first time since the night in his office, Joel properly met her eyes. “All I wanted was to make you feel good, Joel.” Her voice was husky, almost seductive. She smirked and his heart banged inside his chest like a caged feral cat.

“You did make me feel good,” he admitted, rather shyly. “Just wish I could’ve made you feel good, too.”

“Who says you can’t?” Her eyes darted across his face, to his lips, to the rise and fall of his chest. She gripped his shoulders for balance before swinging her legs over him. Her knee lightly bumped into the arm of the couch and his hands instantly went to her hips, helping to steady her on his lap.

Joel stared up at her dumbly for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. His thumbs toyed with the hem of her dress, bunching it up further until he could brush over the bare flesh of her thighs. Goddamn, she was so soft. So pretty.

“What do you want, Joel?”

Everything. “Whatever you’ll give me.”

“No, Joel. What do you want?”

The last two days – hell, the last two years bulldozed into him. Every feeling and thought he’d suppressed and ignored crashing into him like a wrecking ball. He’d spent so long convincing himself this would never happen, but now – everything he ever wanted and never thought he would have was right here. Right in his lap.

And something inside him suddenly snapped.

“You gotta know by now, Teddy. You gotta know.” The words spilled out of his mouth and he hated how it sounded. It didn’t make any sense. Joel shook his head and ran his hands down her thighs to lightly squeeze at the spot above her knees for stability. “Fuck, I ain’t any good at this shit,” he said, in a rare moment of vulnerability.

She cupped his face so delicately like he was made of porcelain. With a small nudge, he met her gaze.

“This is gonna sound very middle school, but do you like me, Joel?” she asked and he snorted.

It did sound juvenile, but he instinctively tugged her closer and nodded his head.

“Good. Cause I like you and I want you, Joel. Only you,” she said. “So what do you say? Wanna give this a shot?”

“You fucking know I do.” His hand slid behind her neck, his thumb traced over the perfect curve of her hair line. “Now, come here.”

When his lips met hers – it was desperate and sweet like cream soda. His mouth crashed against hers with every bottled up dream and fantasy of her mouth, her lips, her tongue. It surged hot and bright through him.

His hand was a firm weight on the small of her back as he pulled her in as close as humanly possible, until only denim and a dainty sundress could separate him from her.

She clutched onto his shirt collar before gently rocking her hips against his growing bulge. He tensed his thigh, catching on her panties. She whimpered, already so sensitive, and he couldn’t wait to learn all the sounds she made.

He couldn’t fuck her on the couch, though. Not properly, at least. Definitely not like he wanted to or how she deserved. Still, he let himself enjoy this for a few minutes. Dry humping like teenagers in her parent’s basement before breaking the kiss with a soft peck to her top lip.

“Would you wanna go upstairs?” He dragged the back of his hand over her thigh, his knuckles hiking up her dress to reveal a little more skin.

“Oooh. Am I finally gonna see Joel Miller’s room?” She gave the tip of his nose a quick kiss before crawling off of him.

She held his hands the entire way upstairs until he led her into his room. “Told you, you weren’t missing much.”

“I don’t know about that.” She glanced at the navy blue walls, at the painting of a grazing deer in what appeared to be somewhere in Montana. It hung above his golden oak headboard. She pointed at the basic beige comforter, three pillows lined up against the frame. “I’m gonna be honest, though, I didn’t take you for the type to make your bed.”

“I did a little cleaning today.” Joel shrugged as she kicked off her shoes by his laundry basket.

“Well, isn’t that convenient?”

Joel managed to only kiss her twice before getting on the bed. He scooted into the middle, using two pillows to prop and cushion his aging lower back. Again, she eagerly climbed over him. She yanked her dress over her head, leaving her in only a lacy black bra with a pair of matching panties that cut high on her hips. The tiny, pink flower on the waistband was just the cherry on top.

She must’ve noticed the look on his face because she giggled as if she was completely innocent. “Do you like it? I wore it for you.”

“Fuck me,” he murmured. “Look at you, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” His hands roamed from her ribs up to paw at her bra and he squeezed just hard enough to watch them pour out over the top. He growled from deep in his chest before shoving his face in between her breasts. He traced the lacy material with his tongue before kissing along his slick trail. “Can I take it off?”

Smirking, she reached behind her and unclipped it for him. The bra joined her dress on the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips and admired her bare skin – the curves of her body in the coppery-golden glow from the sunset spilling in from the window. When he cupped her breasts, he swore they were made for his hands. His thumbs slid across her sensitive peaks, feather-light, but her breath still hitched – her head tip back and even the column of her neck was gorgeous.

He replaced one of his thumbs with his tongue, flicking the tip of it over her nub again and again. Kitten licks that made her clutch the back of his head. The way her fingers rooted into his hair was almost possessive and she held him flush against her chest as he sucked her nipple into his needy mouth.

Her breathing grew ragged and she tried to find friction. She rutted against him, but his hands captured her hips, holding her still before she could graze his cock. Too much dry humping and he’d be actually come in his pants like a teenager.

“Be patient, sweetheart,” he murmured and she whined. He didn’t allow her another chance to complain before his mouth switched to her other breast and adored it with equal attention. It’d been ages since he took his time like this and he lost himself in the feeling of her soft, scented skin on his face.

“Joel,” she moaned. It was desperate and raw and hands down the most erotic sound he’d ever heard in his life. It snapped him from his reverie and he grazed his teeth once more over her spit-swollen bud.

“I know.” He petted her hips before cupping her sex. The lace was soaked and sticky around her cunt.

Her hips bucked into the flat edge of his palm and for a moment, he watched her shamelessly ride his hand. Her brows furrowed – her fingers clutching his shirt for support. He was suddenly aware that he was completely dressed, and he found it strangely erotic. A part of him enjoyed it, maybe a little too much.

“Let me take care of you.” He patted her on the hip before ordering her to lay back. She didn’t need to be told twice.

Joel moved, so she could take his spot in the center of the bed. He tore off his t-shirt and threw it with her clothes. She watched him with glossy, moon eyes as he crawled between her spread open thighs. He captured her lips in a tender kiss before swerving to the swell of her cheek and down the slope of her neck. Gently, he nipped at her collarbone and she wiggled impatiently.

But he still went slow when dragging the tip of his nose from her breasts and along her stomach where he placed a soft kiss above her belly button.

When he settled back on his knees, he saw her chest rising and falling. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth and she was fisting the comforter. It was hard to believe she was really here, even as his fingers stroked her thigh. She was actually in his bed in nothing but soaked black panties.

Joel laid down on his stomach, spreading her thighs even wider to make room for his broad shoulders. Face-to-face with her lace covered cunt, he could smell the sweet, primal musk.

He sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling nervous. He enjoyed going down on women, but it had been awhile since he did anything more than just enough to get someone wet enough to take him. And he really wanted this to be good.

It felt like it had to be good, after his last fuck up.

“Joel? Are you okay?” She brushed back a tuft of hair that had fallen flat on his face.

He shut his eyes but there was no hiding when his face was mere inches from her pussy. “It’s just been awhile.”

“Well, we don’t-”

“No. God - I want to.” Joel groaned and dejectedly dropped his head against her thigh. He kissed at a mark above her knee. Her skin felt so warm against the stubble of his cheek. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?”

A moan dripped from her lips as he mouthed his way to the dip where her thighs met her hips. His nose nudging along the elastic seam.

“I’m not usually like this, but fuck - I wanna make you feel good.” He sucked at the spot directly above that damn tiny pink rose and her hips lifted off the bed, almost chasing his mouth. “Want you to know I can take care of you.”

“You can - you can,” she practically chanted. “Just God. Please, Joel.”

“Okay, I got you. It’s okay,” he whispered before peeling off her panties. He lifted the flimsy to his nose and inhaled without thinking. She smelled so delicious, musky, like sea salt and jasmine. He lost himself in her womanly scent and stuffed the fabric into his mouth and oh God – the taste. Dully sweet, a citrusy-tang that tingled his tongue. He devoured it.

It wasn’t until her panties were licked clean that he came up for air. His eyes opened to find her staring at him. Her mouth gaping – pupils carbon-black.

With a shy smile, he tossed the panties, now soaked with his spit, behind him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she panted. “Fuck, that was hot.”

He snorted.

“Well, you taste damn good, sweetheart,” he said, situating himself comfortably between her thighs. Now, there was nothing, not even skimpy lace separating them. She was completely hairless, which was actually a first for him. Joel didn’t have a personal preference, though he did like how easily he could see how turned on she was. Her entire sex was swollen and glossy and perfect. Licking his lips, he peered up at her. “I wanna make you feel good, so let me know if you don’t like something, alright?”

She quickly nodded, her chest hitching with anticipation. She wanted this. She did.

He kissed the top of her mound then experimentally licked her slit, keeping his tongue soft and flat. He deliberately stopped just before her clit, avoiding it. For now. He planned to build her up slowly, steady. Words had never come easy to him, so instead he’d show her what he could not articulate.

Despite his own painful desire, his focus remained solely on her as he lapped at her cunt: He teased and nibbled and sucked on her folds. Letting her little sounds and sighs guide him to find her most sensitive spots. He didn’t know what he’d been so worried about before. Eating pussy was just like riding a bike.

“More,” she pleaded, and how could he deny her after she’d been so patient?

Her back arched when the tip of his nose grazed her clit. He smirked against her cunt, the pit in his belly stoked by how worked up she was. It fueled his confidence and his tongue swiped over her clit. She wound her fingers through his hair and tugged.

Hard.

And Oh – that did something to him. His cock twitched, or at least, tried to. Pack so tightly against the seam of his jeans. Again – he swallowed the urge to hump the sheets for some relief, snubbing his own arousal for hers.

As he toyed with her clit, his fingertips skimmed over her slick, hot-heated sex. The thick bulb of his pointer finger caught on her entrance and she immediately clenched, as if trying to capture him. Greedy little thing.

Still, he peered up at her for permission that she happily granted. He started out with one finger and inched inside her until he could not physically go any further. He cursed under his breath. She was warm and soaked and so tight.

When finally he squeezed in a second finger, her knees slightly bowed. Even though she was wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance, he rocked into her slowly, mindful to let her adjust. He curled his fingers, trying a few different angles before finding that spongy spot.

Immediately, she jerked with a deep, filthy moan.

Got it.

His fingers worked just as relentlessly as his tongue that was circling and swirling and flicking her clit. So responsive. Her walls spasmed around him as he thrusted into her a little harder. A little faster.

“Oh my God.” Her voice was as shaky as her thighs. He could feel her starting to swell under his tongue.

Joel didn’t want to stop, but he needed to see her come apart. When he leaned back on his knees, her hand shot out. She latched onto his forearm with a death grip.

“Wait! Wait! Joel!” Her voice was high-pitched. Frantic. Her cunt clenched furiously around his fingers as if she could not bear to let them go. “I’m almost there. I swear, I’m close.”

She bore down, attempting to fuck his hand as if she needed to prove she was telling the truth. Like he could do nothing but sit here, and she could get herself off. Joel felt something ugly and bitter twinge in his chest. It made him wonder how often she was left high and dry and unsatisfied by the people she fucked.

Well, not anymore. Not with him.

Once his hand lightly pressed on her abdomen, she stopped. Her gaze found his. Her eyes glossy and wild and fucked out. It looked like the only thought in her head was how badly she needed to come.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t done with you, sweetheart,” he assured her as his hand on her stomach moved lower and lower. “Just wanna see you when I make you come for the first time.”

A filthy moan split her lips when he circled her clit with his thumb. The panic on her face was instantly replaced with relief. Pleasure. She looked gorgeous on the verge of an orgasm.

“Does this pretty little pussy feel good?”

“Yes - yes - don’t stop,” she cried out. “I’m so close.”

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it.” And he could. “I got you.”

She moaned his name as she came undone underneath him. Her arousal was dripping down his knuckles and onto his sheets. He caught himself grinding into the air, desperately wishing it was his cock instead of his fingers making her come.

Her clit pulsed under the pad of his thumb like a beating heart. Insatiable, he sucked the taste of her off his fingers then wiped his mouth.

She drew him down into a sloppy, wet kiss. The painful bulge in his jeans catching on her bare flesh. By some miracle, though he didn’t burst right then and there.

She pawed at his bare shoulders. “I need you,” she murmured against his lips that were still buzzing with her wetness. “Please Joel, I want you.”

“Greedy,” he mumbled, grinning against her cheek. He gave her hip a playful pinch before jumping onto his feet.

Quickly, he shed his jeans along with his pre-come stained boxer briefs. His cock was heavy. The head swollen into a furious shade of red, closer to purple than pink.

The light outside was starting to fade into gauzy, gray dusk. So, Joel flipped on the bedside lamp before pulling out a fresh box of condoms from the nightstand. He tore through the plastic wrapping with his teeth, but slowed down when opening the tin-foil packet.

“How do you want me?” She asked as he securely rolled on the condom.

Up? Down? He didn’t care. “Surprise me.”

She shot him a mischievous smirk before flipping onto her stomach. Rising onto all fours. This woman. He had no idea what she would pick, but his first guess never would’ve been doggy.

He admired the dream-like curve of her spine and she invitingly wiggled her ass. Seemed she was trying to give him a heart attack. Did she know how sexy she was to him? She had to. She had to know what she did to him.

“Is this okay?” she asked, and Joel growled his approval. He climbed in behind her and palmed at the plump flesh of her ass.

She opened herself wider until he could see everything. “Shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, marveling at where her sex glistened with his spit and her orgasm.

Joel had to squeeze at the base of his cock before dragging the tip through her slick folds, all the way up to her puckered hole. Even that felt good. Almost too good. And he wasn’t even inside her, yet.

Once Joel was lined up with her entrance, he noticed how small her cunt looked next to him and didn’t even try to push in. He questioned whether or not he could fit. It was just a fact that he was thick. Even though she was soaked, this would be a tight squeeze.

Fuck. Now, he was really regretting only using two fingers instead of three.

“Joel” she whined, but he still didn’t move.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“No, I can take it - I promise,” she whimpered. “Joel, please.” She tilted back against him, making it impossible to say no.

“Okay. Alright,” he said soothingly, calmly rubbing the arc of her hip. “I’ll go slow.”

And he did. For both his and her sake, he inched into the heat of her cunt. His gaze was welded to the painted deer above the headboard. Watching himself disappear inside her would’ve been too much. The feeling of her pulsing around him was already almost too much for him to handle. Without the condom, this would’ve been over before it could even begin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re big,” she choked out, her walls fluttering around him. “I need - I need a second.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Yeah – he needed one too.

There was a long minute where the only sounds in the room were of his harsh breaths, her suppressed whimpers. Then, a slight creak of the bed.

He leaned forward, his chest lightly pressed against her back. His arms caged in around hers, palms flat on the bed to help support his own weight as he draped over her body.

“You feel so good.” His lips brushed over the top of her spine and she shivered. “I know it’s a lot. I want you to know it’s a lot for me too.”

“Oh, Joel,” she mewled as he buried his face into her neck. She smelled and tasted just like salted caramel.

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. So good.” He kissed behind her ear, along the back of her neck. “I’m gonna move now, alright?”

“Please.” The word dripped from her lips – the only answer he needed.

He stayed close to her, his breath puffing against her neck as he fucked into her. Nice and slow and tender, at first. She met his thrusts in perfect sync. Each one allowing him deeper and deeper inside her and he didn’t even know how that was possible. It was as if her pussy was molding to fit him, to take even more of him. It felt very intimate and overwhelming.

He thought if he was staring into her eyes that he might’ve cried. Sex had never felt like this before. Not with Lisa, not even when they accidentally made Sarah. If he was being honest, sex had always felt somewhat impersonal; stilted, distant, like a glory hole in a gas station, just minus the sketchy bathroom wall.

But here, right now with her – this felt sacred. He had no clue how he ever managed to live without this.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” Joel laid his damp forehead between her shoulder blades and picked up the pace.

“Joel.” She gasped. His name seemed to be the only word she could say. It was as if he had completely consumed her. Her mind. Her body. Her every neuron. He kissed each vertebrae within reach, claiming more of her.

More.

“So damn long,” he answered. “And so fucking bad. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and look at you now, sweetheart. Just taking it. So good, just like I knew you would.”

“Oh God, Joel.”

He felt her shake, her arms appeared ready to give out and collapse. He wouldn’t let that happen. So, he widened his stance, the comforter bunching up around his knees. Carefully, but without warning, he fully pulled out and she wailed like it physically hurt.

“I got you.” He shushed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and sealing her to his chest. “Come on, come here.” He guided her upright along with him and she groaned once the weight was off her arms.

She sank back down on his cock instantly, her ass flush against his thighs. He felt even closer to her, somehow, in this position. Her skin was on fire, the sweat making her back stick to him like gum. Her pussy was drenched and dripping down his balls.

He could feel her all over him. Everywhere. It amazed him how he managed to last this long.

Joel gripped her hip, his other hand went to cup her breast. When he gently rocked forward at the perfect angle, she clenched.

“Goddamn.” He squeezed her breast, continuing to hit that same spot. “How are you so tight?”

“It’s you, Joel.” She gasped. “No one - no one has ever been this deep.”

The dormant, possessive part of his brain lit up and he growled. Joel buried himself to the hilt, until he could not claim another inch. No one but him had ever touched her here.

Just him.

Only him.

His.

She was soaking wet, white-hot, and he could feel himself throbbing inside her. Joel wanted to come so badly. The spicy-musk of her skin was swirling in his lower belly with a powerful, burning heat. On the brink of bursting.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He pinched her nipple as his other hand went down to play with her clit. “I wanna make you come.”

Her only response came in a whine, a frantic nod.

Joel thrusted into her with long, deep strokes that made the bed shake. The headboard hit the wall in a dull, rhythmic thud that filled the room. Just like her trembling, needy moans, his own low groans, and the heady-salt scent of sex.

She threaded her fingers into his hair and haled his mouth toward hers. She kissed him, or more so, tried to. It was more of just lips devouring whatever was within reach: cheeks and chin and the curve of mouths. It wasn’t the best angle, but it didn’t matter.

In this moment, nothing else mattered to him but her.

Despite the tightness in his balls, Joel somehow held back his release. He gritted his teeth, burrowed his face into her neck, and quickly rubbed her clit. The high-pitched sound of his name lingered on her swollen lips as her walls squeezed around him like a fist.

It wasn’t until her cunt was spasming around him that he finally drove forward. He was buried so deep inside her that he practically snarled when he came.

He spilled into the condom, but pretended to be filling her up instead. He would watch his cum drool out of her, only to stuff it all back in with his fingers.

Joel clutched her against him as his hips gave a few final jerks. He would have liked to stay inside her until he went completely soft, but the condom was overflowing. Cum or her slick or more likely a mix of both was soaking into the hair between his thighs. He decided not to test the durability of this specific condom brand. The last time he did that, well – it was obvious how that turned out.

Holding the condom at the base, he slipped out of her and dropped onto his ass with a few pops and cracks. Damn, he really should stretch more.

His eyes fell to where her legs were spread and her sex was still gaping from him – for him. His mouth went dry. He wanted to lean over and quench his thirst, fill her with his tongu-

“What’re you lookin’ at there?” The sound of her lilted voice made his gaze abruptly snap to her face.

He must’ve been blushing because her lips split into a smug grin. Clearly, she knew what caught his attention. But even after two orgasms, she was still a little sassy. Still too damn perceptive for her own good, meanwhile he could barely form a coherent sentence.

She straddled his thighs, careful to avoid his semi-soft cock.

“It’s okay, you can look. I mean, it’s yours now, isn’t it?” Her soft, small voice cut through the post-sex fog in his brain. She was looking so vulnerable, so exposed, completely naked in his lap. Even he was more covered up than her, and all he had covering him was a flimsy, full condom that he had not yet found the energy to get up and throw away.

Isn’t it? Joel got the sense it was not a genuine question, but more of a reiteration – a confirmation. Are we on the same page?

Whatever she meant, he nodded his head.

“It is.” He cradled her cheek. “But only if it comes with the rest of you. I’m a greedy man, sweetheart. I want it all.”

She beamed at him.

“Well, that makes two of us,” she declared while brushing a sweaty tuft of his hair out of his face. “I want everything you come with, Joel. And when I say everything - I mean everything. The whole package.”

She might’ve not said Sarah’s name, but he knew that’s what she meant.

His lips parted, amazed by how easily the words came out of her mouth. That was the first time a woman had ever acknowledged that he came as a two-for-one deal without even a hint of cynicism in their tone. Obviously, Joel realized a kid was a lot to take on. Especially since Lisa wasn’t in the picture at all, but there were some women who made it sound like Sarah was baggage, which was insane. Sarah was the best part of him.

Speechless, Joel kissed her firmly on the mouth. It was warm and sweet and surging through his chest like an electric current. This is what it was supposed to be like. He could feel her lips break into a smile before he pulled away.

“Stay here. Let me get you cleaned up.”

She laid back on the bed without argument, and he disappeared into the bathroom. Joel stuffed the condom into the tin-foil wrapper, then buried it under wads of tissues and empty toilet paper rolls at the bottom of the trash can, just in case Sarah used his bathroom. He didn’t want her to see that.

After cleaning himself up, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth. She looked pleasantly surprised, a little shocked. Wordlessly, she parted her legs with enough space for him to fit.

“Such a gentleman,” she finally said after he gently wiped down her thighs.

“Maybe.” He moved over her tender, swollen folders with even more caution. “Or maybe I just wanted to get a closer look.”

He winked and she giggled.

“You had your face buried down there like twenty minutes ago - don’t think you can get much closer than that.”

True. Joel snorted and tossed the washcloth into his laundry hamper. He went over to his dresser and dug out an old, oversized t-shirt from the bottom of his drawer.

“Caught this at a Longhorns game from one of those t-shirt cannons,” he said when handing her the folded shirt with her panties on top.

“Ooooooh impressive.” She playfully wiggled her brows, just slightly taunting him. He didn’t expect anything less.

His boxers from earlier were still damp, so he put on a fresh pair.

“So, what time are you picking Sarah up?” she asked, seemingly waiting to bring up his kid until he wasn't butt-ass naked.

“Actually, she’s staying at her friend’s house tonight.”

“Well, that’s interesting.”

Joel hummed his response. He was grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the closet when suddenly the home phone on the nightstand lit up, ringing. Only solicitors called that phone, anymore – shit, his cellphone was downstairs.

He would’ve ignored it, but what if it was Sarah?

Joel raced to the phone with his pants still clutched in his hand. Once he saw the caller ID, he groaned.

“It’s Tommy.”

She nodded for him to answer, and so he did. Very reluctantly. “Hello?” Joel swore if Tommy was in jail again, he was going to let him rot there until next week.

“Hey there, Joel.” Definitely not jail – too happy. “What’s going on?”

“Uh,” Joel paused and looked at his bed where Teddy was laying in only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. What a beautiful sight. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself; Tommy wouldn’t believe him even if he told the truth. Joel tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could put on his pants. “Nothing.”

Teddy grinned at him like they were teenagers lying to their parents.

“Nothing? Huh?” Tommy snorted. “Then what’s Teddy’s car doing in your driveway?”

Oh no.

Joel nearly tripped over his pant leg on his way to the window. The street lights were on, but the sky was still a light enough blue where he could clearly see Tommy standing in the driveway, waving with a classic little brother grin on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was coming by to drag your ass out and wait - are you fucking shirtless?”

Joel cursed, backing away from the window like it burned him. The cover was blown and he hoped Teddy didn’t mind, but it wasn’t his fault that his brother came over uninvited. He looked at her and she was just smiling, appearing wildly amused.

She shrugged, then yelled. “Hi Tommy.”

Tommy howled in his ear, loud enough that he could hear it through the glass. She immediately burst out laughing, no longer having to hide. Joel shook his head, but he couldn’t even be annoyed or mad. Not right now.

“You dirty dog.”

Fucking Tommy.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miler x reader #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller

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diorsluv · 3 months

Text

feather , part 34

“ where i’m at ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

hockeynewschannel

liked by yourusername and 123,659 others

newschannel1 rookie nhl player, luke hughes of the new jersey devils, and longtime suspected girlfriend are seen out at the beach spending time together!

view all comments

username21 no fucking way they got news channels covering this

username78 LMFAOOO

username45 how the hell do you even????

username90 there’s no way they could tell it was them from the BACK

→ username79 prob just couldn’t snap a pic from the front without getting caught

username46 i genuinely think they could give less shits if they’re seen out together

username84 ppl are forgetting they were friends before they started dating 😭

yourusername oh my god i’m famous 😱

→ username42 LMFAOAOAOAO

→ username71 stirring up the drama i see

→ username99 you’re trolling so hard aren’t you

bardown

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, and 194,901 others

bardown luke hughes or a dupe?

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username1 BARDOWN??? this has got to be jesse there’s no one else who would cover this

username82 even bardown’s roped into the dryshughes rabbit hole 😭

username72 waiting for the next pod to come out and it’s just then talking about the dryshughes lore for an hour straight

liked by bardown

→ bardown soon!

username24 LMFAO IS THAT THE DRUNK LEAKED PHOTO

username36 i’m sorry they did luke so dirty

→ username34 on par with all the other news reports about him 😔😔

username47 THAT’S MY WIFE she’s so hot

username88 but they’re not even canadian 😭

→ username14 they used to live in toronto idk

username8 next quiz idea: state every event to happen in the dryshughes timeline

liked by bardown

username23 next thing i know i’m prob getting a notif from tsn about this shit

tsn_official

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, and 200,007 others

tsn_official just spotted luke hughes and his girlfriend getting lovey on the ferris wheel

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username23 i just manifested this wtf

username41 GOOD FUCKING BYE

username60 they can’t even say mother’s name i see how it is 🙄🙄

username79 wtf!

username15 since when did tsn and bardown cover romantic relationships in the nhl 😭

→ username2 since dryshughes.

username58 they can’t catch a break holy

username97 let’s just leave them alone 💀💀

username42 they didn’t even wait for the actual hard launch to happen 😭😭

username76 THEY’RE CUTE TOGETHER WHO IS SHE

lhughes_06 damn i thought we were being lowkey about it

→ yourusername ‼️‼️

→ username84 i’m so confused what’s going on

yourusername

liked by lhughes_06, _quinnhughes, njdevils, and 320,155 others

yourusername we had it coming boys…

look at this fucking dumbass (i love him) he looks so stupid (he’s so cute) and he’s so cheesy (he legitimately makes me swoon) AND IF ANY OF YOU TRY AND SHIT ON OUR RELATIONSHIP i’ll thank you! (I WILL BEAT YOU UP)

thank you for coming to my ted talk

tagged: lhughes_06

view all comments

lhughes_06 i hate you more (i love you so much) and you’re my least favorite drysdale (you’ll always be my girl)

→ yourusername this is so gross you made me cry fuck you

→ lhughes_06 i think you forgot to add the parentheses

_quinnhughes only took you a decade!

→ yourusername HEY DON’T CALL US OUT

→ lhughes_06 fr that’s so uncoolio

markestapa OH MY GOD I CALLED IT

→ yourusername called what 🤨

→ markestapa mackie’s dumb ass said luke was gonna hard launch first

→ mackie.samo THEY PRACTICALLY POSTED AT THE SAME TIME

→ markestapa BUT SHE POSTED FIRST

→ mackie.samo BY LIKE 10 FUCKING SECONDS

→ markestapa give me my damn money 🙄

maddysamo does this mean samo time gets cut down even more

→ yourusername unfortunately yes…

→ msamoskevich okay then keep breaking my heart 😔

→ mackie.samo stfu samo time is NOT getting cut down

→ lhughes_06 yes tf it will mackie.samo

→ maddysamo YOU ALREADY SPEND ENOUGH TIME WITH HER AS IT IS

njdevils favorite couple by far!

→ lhughes_06 YEAHHH LETS GO

→ yourusername 🤭

colecaufield you chose the worst possible photos of him

→ yourusername i deadass didn’t have any good pics of him

→ colecaufield go on pinterest???

→ yourusername and search up pics of my own boyfriend?? hell no

_alexturcotte ayeeee there we gooo

→ yourusername you were our #1 supporter from the start 🙈

→ trevorzegras THAT IS A FUCKING LIE AND YOU KNOW IT.

adamfantilli oh look he gave you flowers

→ yourusername he gave me flowers 🥰💐

dylanduke25 mini golf

→ yourusername i destroyed him

→ lhughes_06 you didn’t but i love you so i’ll let it slide yourusername

→ dylanduke25 the balls r really small right

→ yourusername yeah…….

→ dylanduke25 maybe that’s why you were so good at it yk, since you got a lot of experience from lukey boy

→ lhughes_06 DUDE STOP

rutgermcgroarty why was bro recording the helicopter

→ lhughes_06 because i wanted to 😔

→ rutgermcgroarty ur such a weirdo

comments on this post have been limited

lhughes_06

liked by yourusername, trevorzegras, edwards.73, and 345,174 others

lhughes_06 just wanted to say i was fucking struggling to keep us a secret and i love you more than the entire universe

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername WHY’D YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE THE WORST PHOTOS OF MEEE

→ lhughes_06 shush you look beautiful

edwards.73 you were not keeping it a secret bro 💀💀

→ lhughes_06 BECAUSE I WAS STRUGGLING

→ edwards.73 yeah we could tell… 😬

mackie.samo that first pic is photo evidence of you selling on chel

→ lhughes_06 IT WAS LITERALLY YOUR FAULT

→ _quinnhughes i was a witness i can attest to your shit playing

→ lhughes_06 😐

luca.fantilli you let her paint ur nails.

→ lhughes_06 IT’S CLEAR

→ luca.fantilli u were shitting on me for wanting to paint stars on my nails

→ lhughes_06 IT WOULD LOOK BAD ON YOU

→ lhughes_06 AND MINES JUST A TOP COAT

→ luca.fantilli SHUT UP HYPOCRITE

jamie.drysdale yeah yeah you look cute but you better not hurt her or else i will hunt you down and i am a hell of a lot closer to you than i was when i was still with the ducks

→ lhughes_05 yes sir 🫡

→ yourusername the paragraph. the fucking paragraph.

→ jamie.drysdale I’M JUST DEFENDING YOUR HONOR

trevorzegras LETS FUCKING GO???

trevorzegras ROOTING FOR YOU SINCE THE START

→ lhughes_05 we thank you for your service

→ yourusername sure you were z

→ _alexturcotte it was obviously me 🙄

jackhughes i bought you all of those films and they were expensive as hell

→ lhughes_06 so was my tooth when you knocked it out of my mouth when I WAS SIX

→ jackhughes IT WAS GONNA COME OUT ANYWAYS

→ _quinnhughes it was not about to come out 💀

→ yourusername you’re rich stop whining about instax films

njdevils that’s our boy!

liked by lhughes_06

comments on this post have been limited

njdevils

liked by lhughes_06, yourusername, dylanduke25, and 356,924 others

njdevils we support you! (as long as she’s cheering us on when we play the flyers 🤫)

tagged: lhughes_06, yourusername

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philadelphiaflyers gritty will not be happy to learn that his favorite player’s sister will be cheering for the other team

liked by njdevils

lhughes_06 ❤️

→ yourusername dry ass comment

username3 SCREAMINGGGG

jamie.drysdale hm.

→ lhughes_06 don’t be salty man

→ yourusername frfrrr

username87 MY BABIES

username41 IT FINALLY FUCKING HAPPENEDDDDD

username56 AHHHH

username68 LOOK AT THEM THEY’RE SO CUTE

username25 FUCK YEAH

username76 HARD LAUNCH OF THE CENTURY

yourusername i’ll make a deal 🫣

→ njdevils let’s hear it

→ yourusername whoever’s playing at home is who i’ll cheer for

→ lhughes_06 no

→ jamie.drysdale no

→ njdevils no

→ philadelphiaflyers no

username44 YESSSS

next chapter notes ) HARD LAUNCH OF THE CENTURY?? YES OR YES????? and also i’m so pumped from the stars’ 9-2 thursday win and we finally got our hard launchhhhh

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys@loveforaugust@cstads-blog@h0e4fictionalme-n

#luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes #alex turcotte #trevor zegras #cole caufield #jamie drysdale #rutger mcgroarty #adam fantilli #luca fantilli #mark estapa #dylan duke #mackie samoskevich #ethan edwards

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

Text

how are you even alive?

for @steddielovemonth prompt ‘love is watching them do stupid things’

rated t | 1,351 words | cw: minor injury, suggestive language | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, the hurt is Steve being stubborn, the comfort is Eddie loving him even though he should accept help

♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️

Twice a year, Steve deep cleaned the house.

Eddie had never witnessed anything like it before.

It’s not that he and Wayne were slobs, but they just did what was necessary, never spending an entire week going over a checklist a mile long to cover every inch of their house.

Steve did.

He said that when he was young, his parents hired people to do it and he was always fascinated with the way the house smelled so fresh for weeks after. He loved watching something go from dusty to shiny, loved seeing the way the windows glistened without any fingerprints from him.

And as he got older, his parents stopped hiring people and just expected it to get done, so he did. And he loved it.

Eddie couldn’t understand it, but he did love the way Steve’s eyes lit up when they got to his cleaning weeks in March and September. He’d plan it all out on a notepad by room, made a list of cleaning supplies he needed, and put stars next to things Eddie would have to help him with.

There were few stars, thankfully.

Eddie didn’t really mind helping. It was his home, too, and any time spent with Steve was time well spent. But the bleach sometimes bothered his sinuses and he’d end up coughing and sneezing for two days after.

He checked the lists now and noticed his name was only on three things:

Flip mattresses

Gutter cleaning (hold ladder and refill pressure washer)

Bookshelves (remove all books, dust, put books back)

He fist pumped once at the realization that he got off easy this time, much easier than he’d been expecting.

Actually, he almost always was enlisted to help with holding the ladder when Steve dusted the-

A bang interrupted his thoughts and he ran without even thinking what it could be.

He walked into the kitchen to see Steve on their ladder, some kind of homemade cleaning solution in a spray bottle in one hand and a washcloth in the other.

“What was that noise?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Steve reach as far as he could without falling off the ladder. He’d probably land on his feet from that height and be fine, but it wouldn’t exactly feel great.

“Dropped the other bottle I had hanging on my belt. It’s fine, just furniture polish. I can get it when I’m done dusting,” Steve was busy, barely even glanced back at Eddie as he answered.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed a supervisor?” Eddie found the furniture polish and set it on the counter, watching as Steve furiously rubbed at the top of the cabinets.

“I don’t. But gutter cleaning is tomorrow and I’ll need one then.”

“Steve…”

“Don’t Steve me. I’m fine! I’m already halfway done.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped away, not wanting to argue with Steve when he was at his happiest.

“Can you put the radio on please, baby? I forgot to before I climbed up here.”

Eddie went over to the radio on the kitchen table and turned it on, surprised to find it tuned to the rock station instead of the hits station.

“Well color me shocked! Were you listening to,” he gasped and held his chest. “Rock?”

“Yes, I was. But if you’re gonna make a big deal about it then change it to the hits,” Steves eye roll was almost audible.

“No, no. Let’s listen to Def Leppard, sweetheart. It’s been my dream for one whole minute to check out your ass while listening to Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

Steve snorted, but continued his work.

Eddie continued watching.

And then Steve wobbled a little. He caught himself, but Eddie stood up straighter.

He wobbles more and Eddie started to move towards the ladder to hold it steady.

But it was too late.

Steve was already falling.

He landed on his ass with a yelp and a groan, the washcloth and bottle flying across the floor.

“Shit, Stevie, you okay?” Eddie crouched down next to him, hands cupping his cheeks as he looked him over.

“Yeah. Just twisted my ankle a little when I tried to catch myself,” Steve gestured down at his ankle. “Might need to ice it before I clean more.”

“Maybe you should rest so it doesn’t swell.” Eddie rolled the sweatpants he was wearing up and saw the way it was already swelling. “Okay, you have no choice but to rest since it’s swelling.”

“Fuck me.”

“I can do that after we ice it,” Eddie said as he gently moved his ankle left and right to see if it was broken.

Steve snorted. “Of course this would happen the first day of my spring cleaning.”

“Maybe if you’d let me supervise earlier…”

“I never lose my balance on the ladder! I thought I’d be fine.”

“Steve, you remember how last year when you were cleaning the pool you insisted the water wouldn’t overfill because of the filters?” Eddie smirked. “And then 6 hours later we were trying to rescue your pool chairs from floating away?”

“That isn’t the same!”

“And then when we first moved in and you insisted you could paint the ceiling yourself and you insisted on handpainting instead of a roller because it wouldn't be even to you and then you dripped paint everywhere and we had to get new carpet? Remember how you ended up breaking your finger because you insisted on rolling the carpet yourself?"

"Okay, that was just bad luck."

"And when you put out the Christmas decorations last year while I was helping Wayne with his truck and I came home to you stuck on the roof?"

"Listen, I am almost 100% sure one of the neighbor kids knocked the ladder over. There was no other way!"

Eddie kissed Steve's forehead. "I'm not sure how you're even alive. You're asking for an accident to happen."

"Weren't you supposed to be getting me ice?" Steve pouted.

Eddie leaned in and nipped at his bottom lip. "You want help getting to the couch first?"

"Nope. It's cleaning week. 20 minutes with an ice pack and then I'm back to dusting."

Eddie shook his head. "You're ridiculous. We'll ice it for 20 and then you're gonna rest for at least an hour so we know if we need to wrap it and keep weight off of it."

"I'm fine, Eds."

"Humor me, sweetheart."

It's a damn good thing Steve did because an hour and a half later, they were on their way to the emergency room for x-rays.

As the doctor told them both that Steve seemed to have fractured a small bone in his ankle, Eddie did his best not to look too smug.

"It won't require a cast or boot, but I do recommend ice every couple of hours and staying off of it as much as possible for the next week or so. If anything starts to hurt worse, come back for a boot."

"Thanks, doc." Eddie waited until the doctor left the room to turn to Steve. "How about next time you want to dust above the fridge and the top of the cabinets, you let me be there to catch you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine."

Eddie kissed his lips softly, barely brushed them just in case someone decided to walk in again. "You want me to stop on the way home to get some more pain meds?"

"Please."

"You hurtin'?"

"A little."

"You want me to take your mind off it?" Eddie wiggled his brows suggestively. "I can keep your ankle elevated, even."

"We'll see when we get home. But you know what?"

"What?"

"Someone has to do the cleaning, baby. Since I can't, looks like you've got a checklist to get to."

"Or we could just put off the cleaning until your ankle heals."

Steve shook his head. "No, I think you can handle it. I'll supervise."

"You're lucky you're so pretty," Eddie groaned.

"Don't forget I'm also very good at sucking your-"

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Let's go before you get us discriminated against."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is watching them do stupid things #established relationship #cw: minor injury

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bucknastysbabe · 3 months

Note

himbo criston pls i need him

Thinkin’ with my— skills! • C.Cole

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Criston is really fucking stupid but good at stuff and things, the Peloton affirmations, shower sex, pnv!sex, he’s a puppy your honor, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, needy needy bb, malewife tendencies, short n sweet n dirty.

Taglist: @valeskafics @fairysluna @arcielee @sugarpoppss2, @lovelykhaleesiii @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @starogeorgina @bambitas @moncherrii

You were awoken. On a Sunday morning. The morning where you got to sleep in. Sitting up and stretching, you listened to the commotion which awakened you. You flopped back down registering the sounds of the stupid expensive peloton your boyfriend-lover?-malewife Criston had to have.

It was a nice mixture of grunts and affirmations between him mumbling, “Fuck yes. I am good!”

You rolled onto your stomach, no, you weren’t going to go back to sleep. Why the fuck would he even leave the door open? Climbing out of bed you pulled on your sweatpants— it was either naked or underwear considering Criston was a fucking furnace.

Passing him by he waved with a smile, “Morning love!”

You grumbled “Don’t you have work, or headphones?”

Criston’s stupidly happy face fell a bit. He replied, “It’s my off day, and I forgot! Sorry!” You waved him off and went to make some cereal, then maybe watch your idiot man on a bike. He was only clad in some tiny shorts, might as well enjoy the glistening tan view.

Watching his thighs flex and medals clink across his delightfully hairy chest, you no longer held any qualms about dummy waking you up. Criston took note embarrassingly late and grinned, flexing like a goofball.

“Like what you see babe?”

You waved your spoon at him to laugh, “No talking, I’m just observing!” He pouted and returned to the set before he finished, shooting one more pitiful look, dark curls adorably plastered to his forehead. He bowed when you clapped, “Bravo, bravo Sir Criston of the Peloton!” There. Now he was happy.

Then he started coming toward you. All sweaty. Which would be different when he’s balls deep inside of you! You began to scramble away, hollering, “No, no, no you’ll stink!” You were enveloped into a sweaty body, fake retching and heaving. Ah, you were dropped. Ow you were dropped!

Criston looked puzzled as you did not puke. You glared up at him and complained, “I wasn’t actually puking dumbass!” Sometimes you wondered how he was a successful handyman in town who owned an entire business when he did things such as this. One time he bit into a fake apple— that sort of dumb, like he continued chewing before realizing. The brunette frowned, “Oh my bad. Sorry baby.”

Now you were back against sweaty body, heading toward the shower. Criston rumbled, “We both have to take a shower now. I got you good.” You chose to laugh along and not bring up the time you convinced him the Earth was flat. He was good with tools, everyone had their talents!

Regardless of IQ questioning, you were quite excited when he pressed you up against the glass of the shower, blindly reaching inside to turn the water on as he kissed and mouthed at your neck. The sound of the water began and Criston yanked down your panties and sweats, groaning softly.

You pulled off your bra, breathlessly questioning.

“Criston! Y-you just got done working out, ah right there baby, and you wanna fuck?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, big hands on your tits, thumbing at a peaked nipple. His long hair tickled at your shoulder, stubbled chin and soft lips nibbling at your neck. You gasped, reaching back to press him against your ass, groaning at that gorgeous cock hot and flushed.

“Fuck, love when you watch me, turns me on,” he rambled, managing to get a couple sloppy kisses from your mouth, still massaging at your chest. You panted back, “Love watching you handsome, c’mon, let’s get in the shower.”

Brown eyes blinked and he seemed to come out of a haze, dropping his tiny shorts and groaning when it slapped against his taught belly. You rasped, “C’mon stud, in the damn water, wash first.” He seemed to disagree with your plan but was shoved down to the bench anyways.

You weren’t going to ever miss a chance to feel up his godly body. Even if he got a little whiny about it. Whiny Criston was cute, scrunched nose and stupid little questions. Soaping up a rag you kissed his cute nose and began washing his upper body. God- you may have spent too much time on his chest, the man was squirming.

Criston complained, “C’mon baby, c’mooon.” Puppy eyes glanced at you. You shook your head to move down to the lower half— feet up to his most tender areas. You were pretty sure you had a mini-orgasm when you touched his cock and balls— the man gasping out and fucking his hips forward, pleading a bit.

“Just your hair left baby,” you cooed to another annoyed gasp of your name. Criston may fuck the shit out of you, but he always listened to commands. He complained again, “Come onnnnn, m’so hard, you look good.” His hands wrapped around your hips, one moving to paw at the flesh of your ass.

Ignoring him you shampooed dark curls, combing through them as he groped you. You cried out when the man’s lips covered your nipple, needily suckling. “F-fucking hell, I’m almost done!,” came your weak chiding. He merely looked up and smiled around your tit. Ushering the needy thing up you pushed him under the hot stream of water.

“You’re so whiny you know that?”

“You took too long, I wanna fuck my girl, like what if I got backed up?” Criston retorted.

Ugh. He made you throb. Even if he was fucking stupid.

Smoothing back his dark hair, Criston closed into your frame, shoving you back to the bench this time and dropping to his knees. Big hands kept you spread as your boyfriend kissed up trembling thighs. He lapped at your soaked cunt, moaning, then flicking his tongue against your clit.

Criston was good with his mouth. And hands. And cock. He hummed around your clit, fingers pumping you and dragging along the soft spot, gorgeous dark orbs watching your face. You couldn’t stop mewling and whining, legs wrapped around his broad shoulders. You had bitten your lip bloody to keep from wailing.

“Aaaah- oh Criston- fuck! M’close, mmmm!”

He only seemed to move faster, suckling at your clit, driving his fingers deeper, the sensation of stubble driving you wild. His other hand slid up your body, tanned hand encircling your throat and barely squeezing.

“Fucking shit!,” you wheezed before falling into a fit of whines and moans, seizing around his pretty face. Your belly tightened along with your back, riding out the orgasm on the man’s face. Criston had you so fucked out already it wasn’t much a chore to lift you up and onto his cock.

He groaned deeply, pressing your back against the wall, the warm warm cascading over you both. Criston’s thick fucking cock had you split open, the girth never changed. Somehow you were a sloppy mess every time. Didn’t matter. He grinned against your flushed cheek, mumbling, “S’tight baby, god, I love you.”

He held you in place, his flat chest rubbing against your tits, fucking up in powerful motions. You held your head back against the stone tile, panting, eyes locked with his own. “Criston, Criston, Criston,” you chanted softly, writhing. He whined through his nose, taking your lips in a desperate move, smashing his nose against your own.

You took his tongue and cock, rendered a shivering mess. But Criston had a lot of damn stamina, cock full and pulsing. Barreling it’s way through your tight walls, rubbing that spot near your cervix. You’d end up in tears most times when he abused that place, cumming so hard you were all snot and tears.

You kissed him back, gasping into warm lips, your pussy being thoroughly abused with loud smacks. Criston growled, slapping your ass, “Mine yeah? S’all mine. Whose cunt is this?” He smacked your ass again, demanding.

“Yours, all yours baby, Criston fuck!”

“That’s not my whole name.”

Fucking hell you could barely string together a sentence and he wanted his entire name? Criston continued, “There’s other Cristons, whose cunt is this?” Your eyes rolled back as he angled his hips again.

“Criston Cole, my pussy belongs to you!,” you gasped raggedly. He smirked and kissed your cheek, all smiley like he wasn’t rearranging internal organs. “Good girl,” he rasped, “You’re so pretty, love you.” You melted a bit, wrapping your arms tighter around tan neck, too strung out to properly kiss the sweetie.

He grunted, readjusting himself, friction now fiery against your cervix, your g-spot when he drug out. You cried helplessly, heaving and practically screaming in pleasure. Criston looked delighted, rambling, “Fuck baby, you’re, oh, uh, oh my god!” Sweet boy was hit or miss with dirty talk.

“Come on, cum on me baby, come on,” he pled, eyes watery now, hips twitching, showing the first sign he might be close. You nodded, blubbering in response, overbearing heat building upwards from your cunt, into your belly and frayed nerves. Criston took a swipe at your clit, puffy lips against your own, swallowing up your wail as you released onto his cock.

Criston’s hips stuttered at the rush of thickened cum around his cock, whining at you.

“Criston, ba-baaaby, you gonna cum in your pussy? It belongs to you,” you stammered out, overstimulated to the point of some cohesion? He whined again, excitement lacing his tone, “Yeah, yeah, keep talking!” You smirked a bit, mildly entertained regardless of scrambled cunt.

“Pretty booooy, my Criston, wan’ you to fill me up, stuff your pussy up. M’so empty!,” you goaded. His reaction was like a car crashing, hips colliding into you, eyes scrunched as he moaned long and loud, cock pumping load after load into your sore channel. Pretty tears gathered at the corner of dark eyes, him nuzzling into your face like the puppy he was.

He finished up with a soft noise, plopping you both down on the bench, resting his forehead on your shoulder— softening cock still deep inside of you. You were about to slide off before big hands held you in place. Criston stated, “No. If you stay here in the heat, it’s like the sperm’s home, my balls, therefore you’d be easier to knock up.”

“Criston.”

“What?,” he seemed confuddled you weren’t getting it.

“I’m on birth control.”

“Ugh. Right,” he muttered while sliding out. The sight of his cum slipping out of you seemed to please the idiot. You tried to hold back delirious laughter as he would get his ‘widdle feewings’ hurt. Kissing his sloped nose you cooed, “One day babes, don’t worry. Can we go cuddle or sleep or something now?”

He nodded, “Yeah babe, can we watch 300 again?”

Sigh.

“Yes Criston we can watch 300 again.”

#ser criston cole #criston cole #criston cole x reader #Ser criston cole x reader #criston cole imagine #hotd smut #ser criston cole smut #hotd fanfic

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iamasaddie · 5 months

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hangry

paring: Tim Rockford x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 3k~ summary: You and Tim get stuck in a shitty motel in the middle of nowhere with only one bed to share.

warnings: one bed trope kinda but it's not the center of the fic; explicit sexual content (don't wanna ruin the surprise with too descriptive tags); talk of food, mentions of eating; age gap (Tim is twice the age of the reader, but reader's age is not specified); no use of y/n.

a/n: an absolute gem @beefrobeefcal once (last fucking year but i'm as fast as a snail in a coma) suggested to write fics using the prompt "Wait, why didn't you tell me you had a bag of those?" and I rolled with it. Here's the result! also it wouldn't have been as pretty as it is without the help of the loveliest @noxturnalpascal who helped me correct all of my silly mistakes!

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

“This is some fucking bullshit.” Detective Tim Rockford threw his case to the floor, still catching his breath from climbing four floors up.

“Don’t be so negative, Detective Rockford, at least we have a bed.” You chuckled, looking around the poorly furnished room. Wallpaper that was yellow from time, and not because of a designer’s choice; two uncomfortable looking armchairs with a small coffee table straight from the 70s between them; a TV with a “not working” sign attached to it with a sticky tape; and the bed, that caused most of the controversy between you and your new partner. The bedspread was a tacky shade of orange, causing you to scrunch your nose and pray that it was at least changed once this week.

Apparently, a small town in the middle of nowhere couldn’t keep a cafe open in the middle of the night even if it was a crime scene, and yet it had a fully booked motel straight from Lovecraft’s novels. The yellow glow of the bedside lamp cast a sickly light over the room, adding to the stark feeling of isolation. You did suspect that the bookings were a total lie and the tired looking owner just didn’t want to clean two rooms after your inevitable check out in the morning. You didn’t tell Tim about your suspicions, though.

The man was still standing next to the front door, both of his hands on his hips and a frown on his face.

“No fucking cars in the parking lot, and yet they’re fully booked. They think I’m that stupid. Fucking lazy ass people.”

You just groaned in response and kicked the armchair before throwing yourself on the bed.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Rockford, stop being such a wuss. If you’re so scared about your virtue I can sleep on the floor.” You pointed at the raggedy carpet, but hoped he wouldn’t accept your offer. After spending 6 hours in a car you wanted nothing more than to take a shower and slip into bed. In some ways, you were even glad you had to postpone your crime scene investigation until the next day.

Tim just huffed and shook his head. He picked up his case where he’d thrown it and placed it on one of the armchairs instead, disposing his trench coat on top.

“You wanna head to the shower first?” The man asked, easing his tie with one hand and pointing to the only other door with his head.

“No, you go,” your stomach grumbled and you remembered something that made you curse inwardly with annoyance. “I forgot something in the car, gonna run down and back.”

“Poor thing,” he said plainly, his intonation not showing an ounce of care, “I would leave it there, if I were you.”

“Of course you would,” you looked him up and down, his broad shoulders tightly bound in the gun holster, following lower where his white shirt was straining along his soft, slightly protruding belly, and lower still to his thighs in his usual black slacks. Tim cursed every living and dead being on his way up, and when you heard his knees pop you felt genuinely sorry for him, even though you felt your mouth fill with saliva as his buttocks flexed right in front of your face.

Tim coughed, and as your eyes came back to his face you saw one of his eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline. His raised brow revealed his bemusement, making you realize that your hunger, that went beyond just food, had been so consuming that you had become lost in your thoughts and your lingering. He shook his head and disappeared behind the creaking door that led to the bathroom.

The only thing that rained on your parade as you ran to the car Tim drove was exactly that - rain. You tugged your thin jacket tighter around yourself, feeling the cold wetness already seeping through it.

“Bingo! Here you are.” You drew two celebratory fists in the air and then tugged the crinkling bag from under the car’s backseat. It must’ve fallen while you were on the road and for a moment you had a scare that you just imagined taking the thing with you. You pressed your treasure to your chest as you quickly returned to the room you left moments ago.

Rockford was nowhere to be seen when you sat on the edge of the bed, your soaked through jacket and jeans disposed of on the vacant armchair. Your much less formal attire that you wore to work finally did you good, and you tugged your oversized t-shirt a bit lower as you rummaged the plastic bag you brought for the thing you wanted most. A brightly colored pack of mini-waffles warmed your heart almost as much as the memory of your first kiss with your high school crush. Anticipating the sweetness on your tongue, you opened the pack in a hurry, fully tuning out everything else. You didn’t hear the water in the shower stop, or the wet sound of Rockfords bare feet closing in on you. A sudden wave of relaxation washed over you as you bit into the soft, buttery waffle, indulging in its delightful sweetness. Just as the flavor exploded in your mouth, a voice startled you from behind.

“Wait - why didn’t you tell me you had a bag of those?”

Your head snapped in the direction from where the voice was coming, and you almost choked on the sweet delight. Tim was wearing a big towel wrapped around his hips, letting the water droplets fall from the curled strands of his hair and travel down his chest. You followed one drop that slowed down on the slope of his belly, and then went even faster over the soft curve, hiding into the soft fabric.

You weren’t sure if you already forgot what Tim asked or you didn’t hear it from the beginning, so you just made an uncertain sound between ‘huh’ and ‘why’, still chewing on your waffle.

“I asked you if you had anything to snack on, and you said ‘yeah, there are some mini waffles left in the bag.’” Your partner looked way angrier than the situation called for, confusing you even further.

“So?”

Tim looked at you like you had grown out a second head. His eyebrows couldn’t decide whether to frown or to jump up, making him look funny. “So I did the gentlemanly thing and left those for you because I thought you’d get hungry again pretty soon!”

“Aww, you’re so sweet when you want to be, Detective.” You didn’t think a grumpy old man like Tim Rockford would be so attentive to small details like that. You felt your cheeks warm up, teasing him was only a way to not embarrass yourself, because you knew that you were two or three sentences away from making a lovesick fool out of yourself. Well, you didn’t love love him, but it was hard not to develop a crush on the man.

“I was fucking starving and you had a full bag of snacks that you didn’t tell me about?” He stepped closer to the bed, his eyes dropping to where your naked thighs were pressed together.

“Uhh… I just didn’t think?” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling the wave of fresh warm smell coming from Tim. Was he still hot after the shower or was it his normal body temperature? It was definitely higher than a normal human’s. You felt the urge to stretch your hand and place it where his tummy moved with his breathing until you heard stern muttering.

“You never fucking do.”

“Hey!” Your hand dropped to the mattress, pushing you out of your trance. “That’s not true!”

“Give it here,” it was Tim’s turn to stretch out his hand, pointing towards the opened bag of waffles clutched in your left hand.

“Not until you say you’re sorry and that you were wrong.” You didn’t actually need him to apologize, you knew he was tired and you were quite used to him being mildly rude and snappy when he was in a bad mood (which was 95% of the time you spent together). But having something that he so desperately wanted - even though it was something as ridiculous as a half-empty bag of mini waffles - made you giddy with power.

“Not in a million years, now give me the mini waffles.” His knees bumped into the edge of the bed, his hand almost gripping your arm, but you were quick enough to pull the snack away. “Stop being a child.”

“Stop being a dick,” you said nonchalantly and shrugged your shoulders. “That's all you did for the last seven hours.”

“Give me the goddamn waffles!” He surged forward, miscalculating his movements and his size and ending up falling on top of you with his whole body, pressing you into the bed with his chest and stomach while his hand traveled up, finding the waffle that spilled out of the opened bag on top of the bedspread. He shoved the tiny snack in his mouth, moaning in satisfaction as the sweetness hit his tongue. You could barely stop yourself from accompanying him with your tiny whimper.

“Oh, so you were just hungry,” you whispered, breathless. Your eyes watched as his jaws clenched and unclenched savoring the food before he swallowed soundly. You were very aware of his curious eyes searching for something on your face and you hoped he would find it. The heavy weight of him on top of you was pleasant, and you moved your hips up, your already moist panties crushing into the stiffness beneath the towel with the motel’s initials on it. Apparently it was the only thing Tim needed, the sweet smell of waffle that still lingered on his lips and tongue becoming more apparent as he brought his face closer to yours.

“Yeah, and I’m not full yet.”

His lips crashed into yours before you could even process it. The gentle vanilla flavor of the waffles made Tim’s taste sweeter than you could ever imagine. Your tongue as if having a mind of its own found a way between Tim’s lips, collecting every bit of sweet taste mixed with something very Tim. Your lips fought for dominance, as he squeezed both of your hands in one of his above your head. Your kiss was akin to a science project, the chemical reaction when both of your tastes mixed caused your brain to shut down. It wasn’t something you dreamed about every night, but as soon as you got it you knew you wouldn’t be able to leave.

Tim’s lips freed yours, hasty kisses covering your jaw and neck as he hiked up your t-shirt, leaving you in a sports bra that didn’t match your panties neither in color nor in style. He didn’t seem to care, eyeing your tits with hunger.

“Up,” he growled, and you didn’t need to be told twice. You awkwardly slid up until your head hit the pillow. You waited for Tim to join you, but he had other plans. His hands grabbed your ankles, almost throwing your legs apart as he laid between them, getting comfortable with his face right in front of your pussy. You knew he could feel the hotness exuding from you, he didn’t take his eyes from the wet spot between your legs as he let his thick thumb travel up and down your slip, teasing you through the damp material.

“Never knew I had such a sweet tooth,” he grinned, before replacing his finger with his nose, the tip pushing into you harder and eliciting a moan from somewhere deep inside of you. Tim moaned in response, inhaling lungs full of your smell. He swiped his nose up and down a few more times before you couldn’t handle the teasing anymore, deciding to get rid of your panties yourself.

When your hands traveled to do just that, Tim noticed it, biting your thigh and humming in disapproval. “You need to learn how to be patient, sweetheart.”

“You’re the one to talk,” you huffed out of breath, still remembering the fit he threw over the waffles. Tim’s head lifted up and he looked into your eyes, for a moment you were ready to apologize, unsure if you said something wrong. However, that night detective was full of surprises. He nodded, giving you a little smirk.

“You’re right,” his eyes never left yours as his hands made quick work of ripping the simple cotton of your panties apart and throwing what was left of them somewhere to the floor, “I am quite impatient.”

Instead of reply, a ragged moan dripped from your lips as his tongue licked a fat stripe along your slick pussy. Tim’s movements were confident, and didn’t lack the hungry passion that you saw in his eyes a moment ago. His tongue concentrated on your clit, flying around it in tight circles. You felt like the warmth of his mouth on your pussy made even your bones feel like red-hot iron. With trembling hands you gripped still damp strands of his hair, unsure if you wanted to press him harder into yourself or push him away with the amount of unfiltered pleasure he gave you. When the tip of his tongue played with the hood of your clit, exposing the throbbing bud to the pleasurable torture, your legs clasped together, thighs crashing Tim’s head between them. Though the man devouring your pussy was clearly happy with it, his hands quickly pushed your thighs apart. As he lifted his head up for a moment, you saw that the lower part of his face was drenched with his saliva and your arousal, and your thighs twitched again when he licked his lips with a pornographic moan.

With his left hand still squeezing your right thigh and pressing it into the mattress, his right gave your burning pussy a slap, that ripped a choking breath out of you.

“Keep ‘em open, you don’t want me to tie you up, do you?”

You weren’t sure because there wasn’t an immediate ‘no’ in your head, instead, you felt a new gush of arousal seeping from your pulsing hole. Noticing your visible reaction, Tim raised an eyebrow, “interesting. But not tonight.”

He dived back into your pussy without any other comments, his fingers pushed your pussy lips apart and his mouth found your clit once again. His tongue slid further down without letting the pressure off your clit when the tip found your entrance.

You wailed shamelessly when the thumb that was helping keeping your pussy spread open replaced Tim’s tongue on your nub as the wet muscle fucked into your hole. He lapped and licked into your welcoming cunt, the more of your arousal seeped on his tongue the deeper and more animalistic were the sounds he made.

In your desperate attempt to reach pleasure you didn’t notice Rockford’s hips rut into the mattress beneath him with cruel abandon. He moved his hips in perfect sync with the push of his tongue and the circling motion of his fingers. The pressure on his cock wasn’t ideal, but with the accompaniment of your taste and smell enslaving his senses it was enough to drive him further and further down the road to his own orgasm. You threw your hands to your face, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your fist under the relentless abuse of Tim’s mouth and fingers. Every grunt he made resulted in vibrations that started at the soft skin of your pussy and traveled straight to your brain, spreading the pleasure all over your body in shocking impulses. You felt possessed as your body thrashed with upcoming orgasm, every lick to your core was akin to an electrical charge. Your hands fell apart, hitting the mattress as a cry left you hoarse and breathless when one of the most powerful orgasms you’ve ever felt hit you. You were half out of your mind to stop Tim from continuing grinding his face into your pussy and licking up your release without the previous finesse as his body started shaking as well. When the grunts stopped shaking the room, his head fell limp between your legs, hairs tickling the naked skin of your sensitive pussy.

“I need to take a shower again,” he murmured, before placing a wet kiss on your sweaty thigh.

“So, when am I getting my treat?” You laid together in bed, now on the same face level. Your body was still recovering from your orgasm, but your mind was greedy for more. Your hand lightly caressed Tim’s soft belly on the way down. The fresh towel was hiding his cock that wasn’t fully hard yet. Tim shuddered with oversensitivity when you gently squeezed the promisingly fat shaft.

“Give me a few moments, darlin’. You’re undeniably sexy, but my body’s twice as old as yours.”

You kissed his shoulder, placing your head on the same spot afterwards and letting your finger trace patterns on his skin. You were satisfied, and happier than you’ve been in a while, you didn’t care how long it took him to recover as long as he’d still want to fuck when it happened.

“Maybe we’ll both wake up for a midnight snack,” you murmured in Tim’s neck, biting the soft spot a little.

Tim’s voice was a bit out of breath, and he tried to keep it even-pitched as he spoke. You felt his hand travel to your buttock and squeeze the meat. “I always crave something sweet in the middle of the night,” he half-whispered, placing a kiss on top of your head.

please leave a comment and reblog if you liked this fic!

#iamasaddie fic #tim rockford x female reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford fic #tim rockford smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

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jujutsubaby · 3 months

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🩷 sex drive 🩷

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader ☆ summary: you go to a valentine's day blood drive at work. maybe it's just that you've been single for too long, but isn't the volunteer drawing your blood kinda...? well, let's just say you wouldn't mind exchanging a few other bodily fluids with him, too. ☆ tags: modern au, workplace au ☆ warnings: 18+!! MINORS DNI!! dirty talk, oral sex (f!recieving), slight exhibitionism, daddy kink ☆ a/n: happy valentine's day (again)!! another quick little treat for u all hehe...inspired by my real life experience of going to a valentine's day blood drive (except for the fun parts ofc lmao).

you knew you should have made up an excuse and stayed home today. you hate to be a cliche bitter ass single woman who's not getting any younger on valentine's day, but it's hard not to play to type when the whole office is decorated in cutesy pinks and reds. it definitely doesn't help that your boss, suguru, keeps getting visits every 15 minutes from his boyfriend satoru.

"ugh, what's with the pda?" you grumble at what feels like satoru's 30th visit to suguru's open cubicle. "haven't you two been together for, like, a thousand years already?" your coworker utahime helpfully makes gagging noises to emphasize your point.

"hey now, y/n, you KNOW that i'm the head of marketing and suguru's the head of sales! i can't help it if he and i have lots of important things to discuss," satoru protests with puppy dog eyes.

"i didn't realize important marketing meetings involve sitting on coworkers' laps now," utahime mumbles, and the pair of you giggle conspiratorially.

however, as the day goes on and utahime keeps receiving increasingly elaborate flower arrangements delivered to her from her doctor girlfriend shoko, you find yourself feeling more glum than ever. you decide to go out for a stroll, hoping the cold february air will slap some sense into you.

unfortunately, not even five minutes after you set out, droplets of threatening rain turn into a torrential downpour. you curse; in your mopey mood this morning, you totally forgot to check the forecast!

you really don't want to go back into the lovefest of your office right now, so you start looking desperately around for a rescue — an underhang to stand under, anything.

that's when you see a bright red sign advertising a blood drive for valentine's day being held at your neighboring building. that could be an interesting idea. at least this way, you can tell yourself you did a good deed on valentine's day instead of just complaining the whole time. even more appealingly, you see that it'll take about an hour, which is one less hour you'll have to spend around satoru's soppy nicknames for suguru. after shooting a quick text to your team's group chat informing them of your last minute appointment, you decide to brave the rain and head over, hoping there's an opening for a walk-in.

you enter the room where the blood drive is taking place, praying you don't look too much like a drowned rat. your self-consciousness melts away and you smile brightly when you see a familiar face.

"shoko! you're volunteering here today?"

"oh, hey y/n," your quiet friend replies, giving you a small smile back. "yeah, utahime and i have a date nearby this evening, so i thought i might as well sign up. what time was your appointment for?"

"well, uh, i didn't exactly make an appointment..." you say awkwardly. "are walk-ins ok?"

"no problem, we got a lot of no-shows today anyway," shoko replies with a subtle roll of her eyes. she then hands you a clipboard and a pen. "just fill this out, and i'll get you screened and set up and everything."

you gratefully take the clipboard and head into the tiny compartment curtained off at the side of the room, presumably to give donors some privacy as they get screened. you fill out the form (trying not to think of your stupid ex boyfriend when you encounter the questions about your sex life), and once you're done, you poke your head back outside of the compartment.

"i'm ready now, shoko," you call. when your friend doesn't answer, you crane your neck around to the desk where she had been sitting. "shoko?"

"she just went on break," a husky, masculine voice replies from behind you. "i'll be taking over." you look back and are immediately floored by what just has to be the finest specimen of the male form you've ever seen, clad in obscenely tight scrubs that emphasize every bulging muscle. focus!!

"oh thanks doctor...um...fushiguro," you read from his nametag. he's so tall that it happens to be at your eye level, giving you quite a nice eyeful of his firm, muscular chest. what business did men have being this tall, anyway?!

"just call me toji," he says casually, grinning down at you. he takes the clipboard from your outstretched hands and jerks his head back towards the compartment you had been waiting in. "let's head back there so we have more...privacy." maybe it's just your imagination, but you could have sworn he smirked when he said that. you take deep breaths to suppress the unholy thoughts you're having, and you follow him back into the side room.

when you push the curtain aside and go in after him, you see he's already settled into one of the two chairs crammed into the tight space that he's clearly a little too large for. as you daintily resume your position in your own chair, he shifts and splays his long legs out, brushing your thigh with his knee. you inhale sharply.

he clears his throat and pulls out a pair of reading glasses from his breast pocket before reading your questionnaire. he nods at your answers (although you can't help but turn beet red as his eyes scan over the section about when you last had a new sex partner).

"looks fine to me. let's take your blood pressure now...y/n" he says, positively purring when he sounds out your name. "beautiful name for a beautiful girl," he says with a roguish wink, making you turn even redder than you ever knew was possible. was he making you uncomfortable on purpose?!

"mind taking your top off?" he asks, rummaging around in the drawer in front of him.

"i'm sorry?!" you choke out. that was a freebie! happy fucking valentine's day to you!

"oh, sorry, i meant so i can put the bp monitor around your arm. i don't know if you can roll your sleeves up in that blouse," he says, looking up from the drawer. you notice his eyes on your breasts, and you realize that you of course had worn your white button down over your lacy black camisole on the day mother nature decided to get you soaking wet. you must look like such a hussy!

you quickly unbutton your blouse and show him your arm to wrap the thick velcro band around, trying hard to avoid eye contact. it doesn't matter, though; you can feel his eyes boring into you like lasers. why does he have to be so hot?! you hope being in his presence won't throw off your blood pressure reading...you can feel your pulse going a little haywire.

As he tightens the band and starts the measurement, toji starts making small talk.

"so, you doing anything for valentine's day?"

ugh. anything but this topic.

"no," you reply simply, hoping not to broker further discussion.

he presses on, not taking your cue (or if he did, he ignored it.)

"no? what, your partner doesn't celebrate?"

toji reads out your bp measurement to you, but you don't even pay attention to it as you notice his hand brushing the side of your breast as he unwraps the bp monitor's band from your exposed arm. you gulp as you realize only the thin satiny layer of your cami is keeping his hands from touching your tits.

"uh..ah.." you say, hoping he doesn't notice the effect his one brief physical touch had on you, "n-no...my ex-boyfriend and i broke up a few months ago already." you don't mention how you saw him in your bed on your birthday in the arms of another person.

toji looks up at you from darkly hooded eyes.

"his loss...i know i'd treasure valentine's day with a pretty little thing like you."

just like that, toji snaps back into professional mode again, leaving you reeling once more from his flirtatious behavior. he was way too handsome to be acting like this on a dime! a girl like you could get ideas...

"i'm going to do a thumbprick now to get a quick reading on your blood. is that ok with you?"

you nod, and he grins at you.

"that's my girl," he hums in a low voice.

then, before you're even able to process what's happening, he takes your hand and engulfs it in his own. he then begins rubbing your hand back and forth, and you feel a small frisson of pleasure at the sensation of his callouses against your small, soft fingers.

"noticed your skin was a little cold, so i thought i'd warm your hand up before taking the sample," he explained, but you're hardly able to even listen to him as you enjoy the blissful sensation of his hands rubbing yours. his fingers were so long and thick, and so dextrous... how would those fingers feel somewhere else...no! stop! what are you thinking?! you've definitely been single for too long.

"all right, y/n," toji murmurs gently. "you're just going to feel a small prick...sorry about that..." he takes the sample and puts it into a machine for processing. he then reaches back into the drawer and withdraws a digital thermometer.

"while we're waiting for that to finish, let's take your temperature." you nod and extend your hands to take the thermometer from him, but he ignores you and instead roughly takes your chin in one of his huge, warm hands, tilting your head up towards his chest.

"open up for me now, y/n" he purrs, your name sounding like the sweetest and most beautiful sound you've ever heard when it's coming from his mouth; you can't help but comply. he gently inserts the thermometer under your tongue, and you note his eyes lingering on your lips for much longer than they have to. embarrassingly, you notice heat pooling between your legs, and tension twisting by your belly button. you could get used to this...all too soon, though, the thermometer beeps, and he takes it out. toji clicks his tongue as he reads the small display.

"99 degrees even," he reads out. "now that's a surprise."

"what? why's that?" you ask, confused. how could a body temperature be surprising?

"well, our cutoff is 99.5, and i was sure you'd be way too hot," he says with a laugh and another wink. you giggle back demurely; you can't help but act all girlish and coquettish with someone like him. you've never seen a man in real life wink so much, but you find you don't mind. it suits him.

"all right, y/n, let's go get some blood drawn!" he says enthusiastically, rising from his chair. you follow suit. he reaches around you (did his arm just brush your breasts again?) and opens the curtain for you. "after you, princess."

you used to hate when your ex called you "princess"...but when toji called you that, it sounded like the doors to the heavens opened and angels were singing. you'll definitely be thinking about that for awhile. probably before bedtime, and probably while touching yourself. you sigh and exit the small room before hopping up onto one of the cots that were brought to the building for the blood drive.

toji pops a small stress ball into your hand. "now, make a fist for me," he says, using his fingers to close yours, "and start squeezing that." he squeezes his fist around yours. it wasn't so confusing of an instruction that you needed a demonstration, and you're beginning to suspect that toji's making excuses to keep touching you. not that you mind, exactly.

you keep squeezing, and he examines the tender inside of your elbow. "that's a gorgeous vein you've got there, princess. this'll be easy for me," he murmurs seductively, and you blush. you've never been complimented on a vein, of all things, before.

soon, toji pierces your arm (pursing his lips sympathetically as you emit a sharp gasp, which of course makes you stare at his lips), and your blood is pumping merrily into a bag. you decide to make conversation with him, this time.

"how about you, toji? i'm sure someone like you has big plans for valentine's day, right?" you ask, raising your eyebrows suggestively.

"oh, yeah," he chuckles. "if you count getting high and watching magnolia for the millionth time big plans. i don't really go for that stuff," he says.

"i love paul thomas anderson," you say huskily, trying to flutter your eyelashes at him. it's been a long time since you've flirted, and you're probably embarrassing yourself. "you know what the perfect film of his for today would be, though?"

"what's that, princess?"

you smirk. "there will be blood."

toji lets out a huge laugh in spite of himself, and you smile proudly. flirtation successful!

soon, your blood has filled the small bag, and toji removes the needle, pressing gauze to the wound. the feel of his hands pressing into your arm is one of the most blissful things you've felt all week. he asks you to continue maintaining the pressure, and you feel like whining that it won't feel as nice as when he does it before remembering where you are and complying. you watch as he picks up your sample and sorts it in with the others; you feel a bit shy, seeing him manhandle your little blood bag like that. it feels so intimate.... you gulp as you imagine him manhandling you like that.

"all right, y/n, now you just need to rest for twenty minutes, and you'll be good to go." you start climbing out from the cot, feeling a little disappointed that your short, exciting interaction with toji is coming to an end. oh well. some excitement is better than none.

"we have some cookies for the donors in the seating area," he continues. "lucky you...i'd love a little taste of something sweet right about now..."

ok, it definitely wasn't your imagination — he positively growled that last sentence, and he was eyeing you. as you get up, you notice you're a little shaky on your feet; you realize that you actually hadn't eaten lunch before coming, since you'd been in such a rush to get away. you list and sway dangerously to one side, but a pair of strong arms braces you. you let your head fall back onto a perfectly firm, taut chest.

"careful, there, sweetheart" toji whispers in your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin as he lifts you up. you try not to think too much about how your back is pressed into him right now. "i think i'd better keep an eye on you." he walks you over to the front of the room, bracing your back against himself the whole way over. he leads you to the front of the room, where there are folding chairs and a card table with a small platter of supermarket cookies as promised. as shoko had alluded earlier, the blood drive was not busy at all. in fact, it was completely empty currently; just you and toji, alone in this room... you feel yourself getting faint again, but not for the same reason.

"y'know, princess..." toji says, sitting again with his legs splayed out over the chair across from you as you nibble a chocolate chip cookie. "my shift's ending right about...when your observation period ends."

you tilt your head inquisitively at him, hoping you knew why he was saying this. he leans forward, the flimsy plastic chair creaking under the weight of his solid muscle. what you'd let that muscle do to you...

"i don't think that i, as a medical professional, can let you go back to work today..." he continues. "i think you'd better go home after this." then, he smiles deviously. "and i think i'd better take you back, just to give you a...full examination."

it takes all of your restraint not to fling the rest of the cookie down and jump his bones right then and there. instead, you reply,

"i think i'd appreciate the house call." you do your best to make your voice ooze with suggestion so he knows you're picking up what he's putting down.

after what feels like the slowest fifteen minutes of your life, it's finally time to leave. just as toji's shift is about to end, shoko returns from her break, and you take the opportunity to ask her to have utahime bring your things back home from the office for you. since they're your neighbors, you can pick them up later tonight. or perhaps, tomorrow morning...just in case tonight gets a little too busy.

"something came up," you explain to her breathlessly, but you know shoko notices toji's hand creeping up the small of your back.

"have fun," shoko says to the both of you, only slightly judgmental but mostly encouraging.

since you took the bus to work that morning and toji refuses to wait a moment longer than he has to to commence your "examination," he insists on driving you back in his car. you both practically sprint through the parking lot, and he breaks at least three traffic laws zooming back to your apartment in the rain as you yell directions. for a doctor, he sure is awfully reckless.

finally, finally, after an agonizingly long wait, you're at your building. you're about to climb out of the car, but toji is way ahead of you, opening the door for you. you are about to climb out and jokingly thank him for his chivalry when he unceremoniously scoops you out of your seat and swings you over his shoulder. you shriek with laughter.

"toji! put me down!"

you're also all too aware that you're wearing a pretty short skirt that day.

"sorry, princess," he says smoothly. "it's protocol. i can't have you walking back in just in case you pass out, or something."

you're about to ask if he's even been to medical school when he shoves your key into your apartment door, slams it open, and, equally roughly, slams your back against the wall. the breath is shoved out of your lungs as he immediately captures your mouth with his, swallowing any potential protest you might have had (which you didn't, you absolutely didn't. not even close.). he carries your entire weight easily as he shuts the door behind him with his foot; you're hardly paying attention, though, as you're too busy widening your mouth and entangling your tongue with his. you greedily bite down on his lip, and he growls in response.

"let's get you to the examination table," he groans. you wrap your legs around his narrow waist, and he carries you haphazardly to your dining table, crashing into and knocking over furniture along the way. carrying you with one arm, he carelessly clears the table with his other before plopping you onto the tabletop. he kneels before your legs and tears off your tights in one swift motion.

"i hope you're planning to help clean up—" you start, but your breath hitches in your throat as he begins kissing up your ankle, then your calf...then your thigh...he gets slower and slower as he gets closer to where you most want him to go. you try to shift forward on the table to bring your throbbing center closer to him, but he holds you firmly in place with two powerful hands clamped on your hips.

"patience, princess..."

you close your eyes and start taking deep breaths, but the moment is disrupted by an annoying loud vibration against the wooden tabletop.

"who the fuck is 'ryomen sukuna?'" toji scoffs, "and why do you have a heart next to his name? you been lyin' to me, princess? have you been naughty?"

"no," you breathe, and it comes out as a whine. "no, daddy, i've been a good girl, promise. please..."

"'please' what, princess? help daddy out here," he purrs with a wicked grin. just then, your stupid phone vibrates again, and you're about to pick it up and throw it out the window when toji wrests it from your grip.

"your idiot ex, i'm guessing?" he asks. all you can do is nod, the words robbed from you.

"well, my professional recommendation is...for you to tell him to fuck off."

"i will, toji, i promise," you pant. "please, just ignore him, i promise, he's nothing to me."

"you're not listening to me, princess..." toji says in a low, dangerous voice. "i want you to tell him to fuck off. right. now." he slides the answer button on your phone and hands it to you before you can protest.

"h-hello?" you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "sukuna?"

"heyyyy, y/n....missed hearing your voice, boo," sukuna coos, clearly inebriated. you scoff in disgust; it's only four in the afternoon. sukuna was such a mess.

"what do you want, sukuna? i thought i w-was..." you start out assertively, but your resolve is breaking as a practiced tongue once again starts swirling its way up your legs, alternating between your left and right thighs. you clench your toes and grit your teeth before continuing.

"i was ... clear...that ... that we're o-over," you say, the last word coming out as a moan as you feel a set of teeth pulling off your panties ever so gently.

"baby, i told you!" sukuna whines. "uraume's nothin' to me, babe! they're just a friend! you're my one and only, baby!"

even in the midst of the sensory overload occurring in your bottom half, you still roll your eyes. yeah, "just friends" made out in bed naked all the time, right?

"i want you to...to...s-stop.." you pant, as sukuna finally picks up on your strange manner of speech.

"hold on, y/n, is someone there with you?" he snarls, his famous temper rising to the forefront. "you whoring it up with another guy already?"

at that, toji grabs the phone from you and growls into it, "seems like she finally decided she needs a real man, not some cheatin' asshole who can't appreciate her properly!"

the moment he finishes talking, toji leans back into your thighs and finally plunders you with his tongue, raising the phone to your mouth in time for you to moan sinfully into it as sukuna is arguing back. toji doesn't even bother hanging up as he throws the phone across the room.

toji grips your thighs tightly enough to leave bruises as he feasts on you, and you wrap your legs around him, tangle your hands in his short hair, and squirm in delight. it doesn't take you very long to come undone under his practiced mouth.

he rises back to his feet, licking his lips.

"finally got to satisfy my sweet tooth today," he says mischievously. you grab the v-neck of his shirt and tug him closer to you aggressively.

"take me to bed. it's your turn next," you declare authoritatively. then, you kiss him fiercely, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

"your wish is my command, princess," he replies with a dark chuckle, before lifting you, bridal style, to your bedroom.

this was shaping up to be a great valentine's day after all.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #fushiguro toji #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x you #jjk modern au #toji fushiguro x reader

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pimosworld · 1 year

Text

So Blue

Club Blue Jones x f!Reader Jake Lockley x f!Reader

This is a fic based on this post by @thedarkcoven and @melodygatesauthor

Summary- Jake comes to his cousin Blue’s aide in a time of need but finds something he needs much more.

CW-NSFW,18+ MDNI,Explicit, dub con,non con, Blue owns a Brothel and reader is a sex worker. Degrading comments,possessive Blue,possessive Jake, hints of yandere Jake, cursing, kissing, angst, innocence kink,fingering,oral sex female receiving, unprotected piv,anal,anal cream pie,dacryphilia,cum eating, orgasm denial,kidnapping.A hint of Steven and Marc if you squint.

WC-3k

A/N-Please do not read if this is not for you, this is a safe space to explore things outside of the normal world. If I forgot any tag warnings feel free to comment.

Not beta read

Your hands are shaking as you make your way down the hall to Blue’s office. You were only called into the office for two reasons, when Blue was feeling possessive and needed to let off some steam. He would bend you over his desk for what felt like hours, ramming his thick cock into you. Your screams of pleasure would echo down the hall for all his men to hear.

The other reason which usually resulted in the same outcome was that you’re in trouble. Each time brought a flutter of nerves and excitement, your brain can’t decide how to feel about Blue. He was so wrong and fucked up in so many ways, yet he could be so sweet when he wanted to. Keeping you right where he wanted, in limbo with your own body.

You stand in front of the door taking slow deep breaths as you smooth your hands down your barely there skirt and adjust your tie front crop top. Blue made you wear these clothes if you could call them that. You slowly open the door and you’re hit with a strong musky scent, like Blue’s but there’s something different there. You see the back of a man’s head seated in front of Blue’s desk, your heart slams in your chest at the thought of interrupting a meeting.

So stupid you should have knocked

You’re turning on your heel faster than you can register.

“Where are you going sweetheart.” His voice stops you in your tracks and you turn to see Blue uncharacteristically smiling at you. He motions come here with his fingers and you’re at his side in an instant. He places a firm hand on the small of your back as he faces you towards the man in the chair. Your breath catches in your throat as you're met with venomous eyes and a grim expression. He’s staring at you but he’s looking at your eyes, something most men don’t do.

You can smell it now the difference it’s fresh leather, his jacket and gloves in pristine condition. He definitely cares about his appearance, it seems just as much as Blue. Something about him was so familiar and you don’t even notice how long you’ve been staring at each other until a tight squeeze on your hip brings you back.

“This is my cousin Jake, he’s gonna be here for a few days to keep an eye on some things for me.”

“Jake, this is my number one girl.” He smacks your ass eliciting a yelp from you and you can’t look at the man in front of you. Your face grows hot at the display he’s showing in front of this man who certainly peaked your curiosity.

“What’s your na-.”

“Don’t worry about what her name is.” Blue bites out. Jake shoots him a look of warning and Blue holds his hands up in mock surrender.

He’s not in control

“Listen, her name is not important. If you need anything from her you ask me. Jake nods at him in understanding.

“Go get ready,you’ve got a busy night and I don’t want you keeping anyone waiting.” He slaps your ass again and you stifle a groan not wanting to deal with the aftermath of him hearing you.

“Yes sir.” Is all you manage as you round the desk.

“Adiós Princesa.” He’s gonna be trouble.

****

“I need you to keep an eye on some high profile clients.” Blue lights his cigar and settles further into his chair.

“You’ve got muscle all over this place, what do you need me for?” Jake knows he’s not here by accident.

“They don’t have an eye like you…I think there’s some business going on under the table and I don’t want it going on in my club.”

“Fair enough, I can only stay a few days.” Jake pulls his hat down nervously.

“A few days is all I need and you’ll be paid before you leave.”

Jake stands to leave but hesitates just before the door.

“How much for your number one girl?”

Blue clenches his fist, digging his fingernails into his palm. He takes a steady calming breath and rolls his tense shoulders back. Jake was doing him a favor, but the thought of him having you still made him jealous.

“I’m not paying you enough for her.” He smirks to himself waiting for Jake's response.

Jake is seeing red-does he know who I am? He knows he would never do anything to his cousin but it was hard keeping his cool when he always had such a smart mouth.

“I have my own money hermaño.”

Jake's insistence was pissing him off but he needed his help.

“You can have her tomorrow night, she’s busy tonight.”

“For how lo-.”

“I’ll decide how long.” He says through gritted teeth.

Jake exits the office with a noxious grin. I think I’ll decide.

****

Blue told you to be ready for Jake. He was colder than normal and didn’t give you many details. You weren’t new to this but something about Jake made you nervous.

You knock lightly on his door and he immediately opens as if he was waiting on the other side. He beckons you in and turns you to face him.Your eyes trail down his bare chest and notice the bulge in his black boxers. He looks at you hungrily as he pulls the tie on your black silk robe letting it fall to the floor. You’re wearing matching blue lace lingerie underneath.

“I see you followed my instructions.” He grazes his thumb over your nipple sending a shiver down your spine. He leans in to kiss you but you pull away. You see that look in his eyes again and you’re trembling but they immediately soften into something sad.

“He doesn’t kiss you?”

“No sir.” He places a hand behind your neck pulling you into a bruising kiss, your lips melt into his as he moans into your mouth. He’s pushing you onto the bed without breaking the kiss as your tongues dance with one another. You feel like you’re floating from this intimacy. You feel the guilt creep up on someone other than Blue making you feel like this but you push it down not wanting to ruin this moment.

“I’m gonna make you feel good Princesa.” He’s breathless as he trails kisses along your jaw and down your body, he gently lifts your hips to slide your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping folds. He licks a stripe through your entrance and circles your clit with his tongue. Soft whimpers leave your mouth as you grip the sheets beneath you.

“He doesn’t take his time with you, does he?” He doesn’t give you time to answer as he inserts a finger into your slick cunt drawing quick circles around your clit with his thumb.

You slam your hand over your mouth to muffle the cries of pleasure. He quickly grabs your wrist with his other hand.

“I want to hear you, I want him to hear you.” Fuck

He inserts another finger and fucks you at a fast pace, you don’t know how you’ll survive if his fingers stretch you like this. His tongue is on your sensitive nub and your breath hitches as he closes his lips down on your clit. He grinds his hips into the mattress for some friction where he desperately needs it.

“Oh..fuck…sir right there.” He chuckles lowly into your pussy and the vibrations could send you over the edge.

“You can call me Jake.” He curls his fingers and presses down on your bundle of nerves. Your release slams through you leaving you sobbing his name as your whole body shakes. He’s kissing your thighs as you come back down and looking at you like you hold all the answers.

“Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees.”

Your body moves faster than your brain wanted you to but you’re putty in his hands now. You can hear him shuffle behind you as he discards his boxers somewhere. You’re trying to calm your ragged breathing but his hot tongue devours your slick folds and circles your rim. His hands grip your waist before you collapse into the headboard.

He grips the base of his cock slowly dragging it through your slit, you can feel his tip breach your entrance and you keen at the stretch. He’s rocking his hips back and forth and his thick cock can barely fit.Your pussy clenches down on him and he bites down on his bottom lip practically drawing blood.

“I need you to relax…just let me in and it will feel so much better.” He reaches around and his fingertips circle your swollen clit. He can feel you relax around him as he works your hips onto his length. He’s in awe watching your slick coat the base of his cock as he stretches your pussy to the brim.

“Tell me who's making you feel this good.” He’s panting behind you as he picks up his pace.

“You Jake…fuck it feels so good.” All you can hear are the sounds of his hips meeting yours, the squelch of your cunt as his balls slap your clit over and over.

“Can I put it anywhere?” He runs his thumb along your lesser used hole and all you can manage is a breathy yes. He pulls out of your entrance and spreads your ass wide with his calloused hands.

You feel a glob of spit on your rim causing your pussy to clench around nothing. He prods just the tip and you already feel so full, he churns his hips slowly and your body feels on fire. The sensation has never felt so good, no one has ever taken their time.

You can tell he’s coming apart as his groans grow deeper and his thrusts become erratic. The pain gives way to pleasure as he snaps his hips into yours, he’s filling you with each roll of his hips and you can’t hear your thoughts over the screams of his name.

“Who do you belong to?” He’s grunting behind you as he slams you down on his cock.

“You..I’m.yours.Jake.” Each word punctuated on a thrust. A wrecked sound tears out of his chest from deep within as his release slams through him. His hips slow as he empties himself inside you. He trails light kisses down your sweaty spine and pulls out of you with a hiss.

You collapse onto the bed and he pulls your back flush with his chest. You can hear him drifting off to sleep as he mutters under his breath.

“Not letting you go, never letting you go.”

****

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep when you hear a rap on the door. You turn to see Jake fast asleep, you raise his arm from your waist and slink out of bed to not disturb him.

As you place your robe back on you hear another frantic knock on the door. You hurry over to open it, not wasting time to find your panties.

“Times up sweetheart.” Blue’s eyes are bloodshot, his liner is smeared down his face and the anger in his expression isn’t one you’ve seen before. He grabs your arm and yanks you out of the room slamming the door behind you. His grip on you doesn’t loosen as he stalks down the hallway. You can hardly keep up with him as you trip over your feet.

“He fuck you so stupid you can’t even walk.” He doesn’t bother to pick you up, practically dragging you down the hall to his office. You can feel the tears prickling behind your eyes. His office door is a welcome sight for your poor knees.

“Get up.” His pupils are blown wide as you stand on shaky legs to enter his office. He’s pacing back and forth, Blue’s never been like this. He wouldn’t kill you, would he? He asked you to go to Jake's room. He finally stops pacing and sits in his chair. You can only stare at the floor afraid to meet his gaze as you fidget with the hem of your robe.

“Come have a seat.” His voice has softened a little and you feel a brief moment of relief. You move towards the chair but hear the faint sound of his belt buckle, as you look up and meet his eyes you can see the resemblance- the venomous eyes.

“You know where I want you to sit.” You can feel the arousal between your legs mixed with the dried cum. His cock is red and angry leaking precum down his length. You move to stand in front of him facing away as he smooths his hands up and down your thighs. He smacks your thigh and you hover your entrance over his lap.

“Sit.” You cry out at the stretch as he pulls you flush against his hips giving you no time to adjust.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” How do you answer this?

“No.” He slaps your pussy hard and you bite down on your tongue.

“Yes.” He growls in your ear and you can feel his cock pulse inside your walls.

“If you want to keep lying to me that’s fine, you’ll just have to make it up to me later.” He circles your clit with his fingertips and you clench around him.

“Who do you belong to?” You're weightless as he bounces you on his cock punching something deep inside you.

“You Blue…I belong to you.” He grips your hair pulling you back against his chest as he thrusts his hips up.

“Oh…tsk tsk I thought you were Jakes?” Was he listening?

“I’m so sorry Blue, I’m yours I’m all yours I swear.” You’re sobbing now as he picks up his pace, never releasing the grip on your hair. Your orgasm is approaching and you shouldn’t have this reaction to him but your body craves it. He’s the rehab and the drug all at once.

You’re thrust forward onto the desk and your grasping at anything for purchase as he fucks you at a relentless pace.

“Oh my god…Blue please.” Your cunt swallows him with each thrust. He pulls out of you suddenly, coming with a choked sound as he pumps his cock with his fist. You can feel the hot ropes of cum on your back staining the black satin robe. You can hear his wrecked groans as he milks the last of himself into his hand. He leans forward onto your back holding his hand in front of your face.

“Clean it.” You lick the salty remnants of his spend from his hand, moaning and savoring the taste the way he likes. As he slumps back into his chair you feel your pussy ache at the lack of release.

“You can go sweetheart.” The whine that escapes you is not lost on him.

“Maybe when you remember who you belong to you can come.” His menacing laugh echoes in your thoughts for the rest of the night.

****

“Those clients you wanted me to watch, we're trying to poach some of your girls. I took care of them so you shouldn’t have any more problems.”

Blue doesn’t really care what taking care of them means as long as the problem is resolved.

“Good, feel free to stay one more night. I’ll send some girls to your room.”

“Thanks hermaño, I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow. Ugh no need to send any girls, I need my rest for the drive.” Jake stands to exit Blue’s office but hesitates once again at the door.

“How much for your girl?” Blue groans white knuckling his chair -not this again.

“It’ll be double for tonight, same rules as last time.” He relents not wanting to cause a rift and is grateful for Jake's help.

“I mean how much to keep her…I want her.”

If Blue could spit fire he would. Who does he think he is? He would have anyone else killed for less than what Jakes got away with and now this?

Jake turns to face Blue and he’s seething, a long silence passes between the two men as he awaits his response.

“I wouldn’t let you have her for all the money in the world...She’s mine” His voice is dark and barely above a whisper. His eyes narrow slits and he looks like a snake ready to strike.

Jake walks towards his desk and Blue stands,both men on either side. He’s a wolf in the lion's den but he won’t back down. He leans forward placing his hands on the desk.

“People don’t say no to me Blue.” He laughs, the bastard laughs and for the first time Jake thinks he might be in trouble. Blue leans forward just inches away from Jake's face.

“There’s a first time for everything…Goodnight Jake.” He doesn’t falter, their faces still inches apart and then his face splits into a sickly sweet grin sending a chill down Blue’s spine.

“Goodnight.”

****

Your head is pounding in your skull and your body feels in motion. You can’t tell if it’s day or night but you know you’re not in your room. The smell of leather permeates your senses and it hurts to open your eyes. Your face is wet from laying in a puddle of your own drool.

You lift your weak body up and come to the realization that you're in a car. The windows are tinted black and you can hardly see outside-its a limousine. You wipe the drool from your mouth and try to remember the night. After Blue made you leave you cleaned yourself up and went to bed.

Is that really all you remember?

Tears begin to spill as panic sets in, the bile coming up in your throat at the thought of being in a stranger's car. You start to crawl towards the front and your body is so weak, you’ve never felt like this before as you try to focus on the soft carpet beneath your palms. You knock lightly on the partition and it slowly lowers.

“Good morning hermosa, how’d you sleep?” Your breath catches in your throat at the site of Jake. His hat pulled down above his furrowed brow.

“Please…take me back please. He’s going to be so mad.” You're crying and trying to catch your breath. All the while he’s laughing as his gloved hands tighten the grip on the steering wheel.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me now.You’re safe with us now.”He raises the partition muffling your screams as you bang on it incessantly. You feel the exhaustion creeping in from your panic and you know no matter the outcome you were not safe.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Tagging anyone that commented on the original post @thedarkcoven @simpforbritgents @fandxmslxt69

#blue jones x reader #jake lockley x reader #Club Blue Jones #Club Jake Lockley #moon knight fic #sucker punch #blue jones x you #jake lockely x you #jake lockley smut #blue jones smut #Yandere jake lockley #moon knight smut #blue jones #brothel au #Blue Jones sucker punch

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loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

You’re in Trouble (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: Swearing, threats of violence

Synopsis: As the gang are looking around the boathouse, Y/N joins them on the hunt for Eddie but her angry demeanour makes the others worried of what will happen when they do

Y/N notes: shorter than Eddie

This one was requested by @lily-sinclair-2006 ! I liked the idea of Y/N being pissed that he may have cheated on her rather than the more important thing, that he might of killed someone lol. I’m working on The Metal Head and the Material Girl part 2 and it should be out some time this week so look out for that!

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“What a dump.” Dustin mumbled as the group entered the boat shed. Steve pulled an oar off of the wall and began jabbing at the tarp in the boat. Dustin pulled a face at him.

“What are you doing?” The younger one asked.

“He might be in here.” Steve calmly replied, continuing to jab.

“So take the tarp off!”

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off!” The door to the shed burst open, spooking everyone inside. They all turned to see Y/N L/N in the doorway. She gave them an angered confused look.

“Y/N?” Steve questioned, lowering the oar.

“Steve? The fuck are you lot doing here?” The girl looked at each of the group.

“Uh we could ask you the same question?” Steve replied.

“I’m looking for my bitch ass boyfriend that’s what I’m doing.” Y/N explained, walking further into the shed and looking around.

“Oooooooh yeah I totally forgot Eddie had a girlfriend.” Steve said to the group. Dustin gave him a look of disbelief.

“Yeah you couldn’t have remembered that sooner?? It would have been real helpful to know that the person we’re looking for is dating someone!!!”

“Alright alright I’m sorry! She graduated two years ago, haven’t seen her since so she slipped my mind! Uh no offence Y/N.” Steve put a hand up in Y/N’s direction as she continued to look around.

“None taken Harrington, so you guys found anything?”

“Uh n-no not yet.” Dustin replied. “Uh hi Dustin Henderson, Eddie’s friend. Do you know where he might’ve gone if not here?”

“I went to his trailer the morning after it happened, police wouldn’t let me get too close. Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, didn’t have clue to where he went either. I checked all over my house just in case but he wasn’t there. I went to our old spot in the woods outside the high school, then our one at Lover’s Lake, nothing. And now I’m here.” Y/N sounded more and more annoyed the more places she listed off.

“And I just wanna make sure…” Dustin began. “That you don’t think Eddie did it?”

“Of course he didn’t.” Y/N replied, finding it stupid he’d even ask. “That boy will cry over roadkill we pass on the way to my house ain’t no way in Hell he killed Chrissy Cunningham.”

“And you think he’ll still be alive?” Dustin asked, wanting the confirmation.

“Either he’s dead or I’m gonna kill him myself.” Y/N answered back.

“Hey.” Max called. “Look over here.” Wrappers from different snacks laid about on a table.

“Maybe he heard us?” Robin suggested. “Got spooked and ran?”

“Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.” Dustin said sarcastically.

“I know you think you’re being funny Henderson but considering everyone in the room, apart from Y/N, has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight-“ Suddenly Eddie jumped out and pushed Steve to the wall. A broken beer bottle to his throat. Everyone immediately panicked trying to calm Eddie down.

“You’re focusing on the wrong person Munson.” Eddie turned at the familiar voice, dropping the bottle. He began walking over to her, a relieved smile appearing.

“Babe-“ Y/N slapped him clean across the face. Everyone fell silent.

“You wanna explain why Chrissy Cunningham was in your trailer?”

“W-What?” Eddie managed to say.

“Chrissy. In your trailer. Late at night. No call from you.”

“I- wh- she was-“ Y/N glared up at him. He sighed, exasperated. He didn’t care that she was mad, he had to say it. “You have no idea how happy I am to see your face after the time I’ve had.” Eddie opened his arms to her.

“I’m waiting for an explanation.” Y/N did not hug him. She stood there with her arms folded. Eddie went limp and gathered his thoughts.

“R-Right right, she was buying from me. Wanted something stronger, we had to go back to mine. That’s it. That’s it I swear.” Eddie looked at Y/N, pleading for her to believe him. She could see in his eyes that he was craving any sort of affection from her. She sighed and placed a hand on his cheek.

“You dummy. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, his arms going around her waist. “I was so fucking worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. I would’ve contacted you, I would’ve but I-I just couldn’t.”

“I know. It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” The couple pulled away.

“Yeah no kidding babe. You really went for it.” He rubbed his cheek, feeling the hot sting from the slap. “So you really thought I cheated on you?”

“Well what was I supposed to think?” Eddie smiled and wrapped himself around her once again, this time making sure he could still see her face. Y/N rested her hands on his chest.

“Y/N I’m lucky you even acknowledge my existence, let alone are my girlfriend. What kinda delusional asshole would I be if I went off with another girl?”

“The worst.” Y/N teased.

“Yeah. I’d be the worst.” He leaned down, to kiss her. Pushing back on her a little, hungry for her affection. He didn’t realise how much he needed this until it was happening. An awkward cough brought the two back to reality.

Ah right. They weren’t alone.

“Okay glad you two lovebirds made up. Now can we please shift our focus back to the important stuff?” Dustin asked.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry Henderson it’s… it’s been a rough day.”

Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries @ruhro7 @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski @gh0stm3g @lagataprrr @spencersbookbag @ygrworld @ambernicole90 @alwaysbeenfamous @angelsarecallin @voteforevilthoughts @iameddiemunsonshair @hellf1reclub @phobles-world @isshecleverorisshecrazy @olrjmarvete @b-bella9 @ultraoliviajeromethings-blog @beatlebeesstuff @korescomaactually @bilesxbilinskixlahey @darkened-writer @nightless @gnkkstarz @cullenswife @killergoddessmm @preciousbabypeter @uselessbutinteresting @frogtits1 @lotus-es @padfootpottah99 @siriuslysmoking @enoumen-t @marrigold-2002 @nightless @the-mysterious-miss-s @olrjmarvete @evie-119 @rand0m—fangirl @felicityofbakerstreet @lotus-es @v0idl1nq @stv-1-ncent @eiviea @iheartcb @grumpyy-bearr @purple-flamingo @eddiessoulmate @violetrainbow412-blog @mcueveryday @marauders3rawh0re @ravenhood2792 @dragonalpha54 @slytherinintj13 @pastel-abyss-x @missscarlettangel @charli123456789 @henhouse-horrors @erikaar @golden-hoax @fairynamjoonie @caramelkatsukis-bitch @sun-faced @somerandomasgardian @helensophie @avobabe87 @s-u-t @superheavymetalunicorn @low-keyyyyy @carliuxima @avarose06 @ticharluv @ijustfndamilldllrsthatsmnefgt @gia-maybank @takemetoneverland420 @notbeforelong @lovepity @falling4uke @emiijemii @chocolatestudentllamabanana @milkiane @montgomery-fucking-gator @girl-in-the-chairs-void @ourheartsofsteel @simp4fictional @sakurarou @nyctophiliiiiaaa @just-that-bi-girl @ieatrocks1 @beautifulrunwaymodelwombat @geeksareunique @chiggennuggie @levylovegood @eddie-swhore @char1389 @chaerwithluv @annikin-im-panicin @mmmxmo @cestlavie03 @selenelouvel @thanatophobiawilldestroyme @unicorntrooper @jmj-1312 @nxrdamp @funn-sizedd @idblamekate @miraakswhore @7myoi @vintageleather @lemongirl5910 @hermie62 @tuskjohnny @madcosss

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #st eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things season four #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #reader x stranger things

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eris-snow · 6 months

Text

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥

Tags: bakugou x gn!reader, fluff, I forgot how to tag things

So I haven't done a story in this format for months now, so I figured that I'd do it again in case people were missing it.

Bakugou hates fall.

He resented the cooler weather for purely practical reasons. His Quirk isn't as effective, and the multiple layers he has to wear are a pain in the ass to get off.

But you? Oh, your eyes just light up when you see the leaves change to red. You celebrate the fact that the season of lower temperatures has arrived. You cherish the feeling of bone-chilling wind whipping past your face.

"I don't fuckin' get you." Bakugou iterates as he opens the door one-handed. Your arms are full of groceries, and he's fresh off his shift, so you both are hungry and tired.

"It's cold, daylight peaces out at 4 in the fucking afternoon, and you have to deal with more villains 'cause of the festive seasons. What's there to like?"

"Everything." You deadpan, kissing his cheek. "Now put away the toilet paper or I ain't giving you dinner."

"You wouldn't do that to me. I know you and you wouldn't do that to me. You love me way too much."

"Try me, and see where that gets you," You breeze past him and kick off your shoes, beelining to the kitchen to put the groceries away.

"Fall was the season you confessed to me, dumbass!"

Bakugou pauses by the glass cabinets, toilet rolls in hand.

Oh.

You'd been in a major fight that day, tossed straight into a building with glass etched in your skin. Bakugou almost thought you wouldn't make it. There, holding you in his arms as red colours everything he touched, he almost lost it when you'd closed your eyes.

He thought he lost you.

"You were so frantic," You chuckle, grabbing leftovers from the fridge. "And then when I woke up, and you called the doctor, you told me that you didn't want any regrets."

Bakugou rolls his eyes at the memory as he slams the cupboard shut. "You know, if you got your ass kicked by some D-listed villain now, I'd be laughing my ass off, right?"

"Oh hush, you'd be crying like a little bitch."

Bakugou hears the oil cracking, and he's glad. He's hungry.

With a growling stomach, he strides back into the living room and watches you fire up a meal for the both of you. This year moved so fast. Your new apartment, his break into the Top 10 Hero Rankings...he's...

Happy.

He's actually happy.

"I love fall, because it's when you showed me that I'm not alone." You hum. "That if I was ever on that bed again, I'd have someone there to cry for me. That if I have to walk through this shithole called life, I'd have someone to walk through it with me to make shit suck just a little bit less."

You don't even flinch when you feel him up behind you, hands around your waist as he buries his head into your shoulder. It's so domestic, and it's something that Bakugou never thought he'd have.

Someone to put up with him. Someone to hold like this. Someone cooking for him and someone to share a home with.

"When you put it like that, you make me want to start liking fall too," He mumbles, voice muffled by your clothes.

Bakugou still hates fall, mind you. But if it meant that he gets to cuddle up with you and sip on hot coco, if it meant that he'd see you with that crazy happy grin and hear your stupid laugh, then fall can keep on going, thank you very much.

#mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x you #katsuki bakugō #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katuski x reader #fluff #bakugou fluff

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akoyaxs · 8 months

Text

Dangerous Games - II

✮ Pairing: Aonung x Tayrangi/Omotikaya fem reader ✮ Tags: Reader POV, oral sex (m and f recieving), slight voyeurism if you squint, banter, fluff, friends w benefits ✮ Read Part 1 here Note: this (backstory and character dynamic) is heavily based of my wattpad fanfiction "Dangerous Game", it's just a little more mature than I would post on my WP so I'm doing a Aonung x reader part now instead of the Aonung x OC in the fanfiction ˙ᵕ˙

So maybe things didn't go exactly to plan - not that there had ever been a plan in place.

But when you and Aonung returned back to the village, the others hardly failed to notice the marks you'd left all over each other.

Neteyam had been quick to notice the nips and hickeys along your neck, and Lo'ak's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw the scratches you'd marked along Aonung's back.

The two Sully boys had instantly pulled Aonung aside. By their gleaming eyes and slight frowns, you could tell they were torn between their obvious disbelief that Aonung managed to have sex with you and their brother-like protectiveness of you (which was completely unnecessary as you outranked them both put together).

Kiri and Tsireya had been raising their brows at you, which you ignored after sharing the whole story with them. Tsireya had been slightly disgusted with her brother yet amused with your easy control of him, whilst Kiri had just listened intently with an incredulous grin on her face.

Unfortunately, in the moment where you and Aonung made that bet and engaged in certain activities in that soft forest clearing, you hadn't though about the longer term consequences.

One of them was Aonung himself. He couldn't stop shooting you strange glances despite your insistence that it meant nothing.

You had thought that finally giving him a taste would satiate his inexplicable fixation with you, but if anything, he was just seems to want you more.

You sigh as you walk out of your hut, forgetting the crucial fact that your kelku was next to the one the Metkayina were staying in.

You're striding past without your weapons when you hear a voice call your name from inside.

Tsireya is smiling at you from the entrance, nestled comfortably against Lo'ak. You can spot Kiri and Rotxo by the fire, chatting with Neteyam.

Not spotting a certain someone, you follow Tsireya's welcoming wave and duck into the kelku.

Yet upon entering, you realise you made a mistake in assuming Aonung wasn't there, because your foot catches on a thick turquoise tail, and you find yourself promptly falling into someone's lap.

Stupid ass skxawng, leaving his tail lying wherever for people to trip over. Why does he just have to be so stupidly massive.

You grumble a little as you push yourself up, finding Aonung's face suddenly inches from yours, an amused little smirk on his face.

"Shut up and get off me fish lips," you snap, gripping his shoulders to push yourself out of his lap.

"You were the one that sat on me," he points out, before he cuts himself off.

You don't miss the way his eyes instantly travel over him as you sit up and push yourself away, but before you can snap at him that your eyes actually aren't on your tits, Tsireya speaks up.

"You look beautiful," she gasps, smiling at you. "Where are you going?"

"There's a party tonight," you say, frowning at Lo'ak.

"Oh yeah," he says, shaking his head slightly. "I forgot about that- that's why we came here, to invite you!"

Immediately, your eyes widen, but Kiri's grabbing Rotxo's arm and begging him to come.

Which only means-

"You're coming too bro, right?" Neteyam asks Aonung.

Aonung clears his throat and peels his gaze away from you. You hadn't even noticed him staring- you'd gotten so accustomed to his bright blue eyes on you.

"Yeah," Aonung shrugs, and Neteyam grins.

"We had some good times in the reef- now it's our time to show you a good time in the forest."

"Here's your chance," I whisper to Aonung, so only he can hear.

"Chance to what?"

"To fuck around with some villagers and leave me alone," I hiss, grinning at him.

"I think you like having me around sweetheart," Aonung whispers back, not in the least deterred by the words.

"And what gives you that impression? My overwhelming love and affection for you?" you taunt.

"That and the way you were moaning in my ear the other night," he grins, teeth glinting sharply, and you feel the places where those very fangs lightly sunk into your skin prickle under his bright blue gaze. "Oh yes, yes, yes-"

"Shut your stupid mouth," you snap, quickly checking that the others couldn't hear your whispered, furious conversation.

"I thought you liked my stupid mouth," Aonung grins, before you whip his leg hard with your tail. "Ow."

The others turn to see him rubbing his leg and wrinkling his nose at you.

"Sorry, accident," you say, rolling your eyes.

"Yeah well, we should go before you murder Aonung," Kiri smiles, hauling you up and away from the stupid skxawng.

You allow yourself to be led away by Kiri, Rotxo on her other side, and the others trailing behind you as you walk together towards the party.

You can hear Tsireya giggling at Lo'ak's stupid jokes, and Neteyam and Aonung are having a low, quiet conversation, though you can feel eyes burning on you.

You'd bet anything they were a very familiar ocean-blue set of eyes with that strange, unreadable expression.

Thankfully, you get a distraction as soon as you arrive at the party - alcohol.

It's been a long fucking week, what with training Aonung and scolding Aonung and avoiding Aonung and the other business with Aonung, and this is a time where you can just get away from fucking Aonung.

It's so stupid, the way he just always seems to be there, and when he isn't physically, it's just imprinted in your mind.

You don't love him - you don't even like Aonung - but there's just something about him that just remains with you wherever you go.

It's something about his faint sea-breeze scent lingering after he's been in the forest for weeks, something about the way his large blue eyes glitter no matter if they're illuminated by sunlight filtering through the foliage or the forest bioluminescence.

You grunt, downing a sweet, very strong drink of some unfamiliar sort.

You can still almost feel the ghost of his hands all over you, feel your fading nips and hickeys prickle when he's near, hear the faint groans and curses he left, messy and hot, along your neck as your back arched against his muscular chest.

Fuck, this isn't good.

The alcohol isn't drowning away these constant thoughts of Aonung.

Never once have you ever spared two flying fucks for a guy after you fucked.

It's not like you like Aonung, but you've hardly ever felt this level of... awareness... with any other guy before.

Each encounter has been the same, a quick fuck then you leave before things can get awkward, or worse, intimate.

So okay, maybe seeing your whole clan get murdered and destroyed by sky people at a young age could be traumatising, maybe even give you a few silly little intimacy issues, but your total aversion for intimate affection had always been uncomplicated.

You didn't need people to protect or defend you, you didn't need someone to take care of you.

Not once had you ever wished to stay and be cleaned up and praised and loved after sex; sex was just meaningless escape and occasional enjoyment.

These repeated thoughts of Aonung didn't mean anything. Nothing at all.

The next drink is even stronger, a whole coconut full of some shiny sapphire liquid that tastes faintly of lime, and you sloppily down it before swiping away the droplets.

Aonung didn't matter- it doesn't matter that you can feel his eyes on you from across the party.

But you only notice the burn of those ocean-blue eyes when it suddenly disappears.

You frown, turning to where you last saw Aonung, to find him speaking to some other girls.

Ha. Ninat was, simply put, a slut. She was named after her obviously egocentric mother, who Neytiri had once told you had put quite a few moves onto Jake.

Now Ninat 2.0, not exactly improved, was giggling obnoxiously at Aonung, twirling her long dark hair and batting her long lashes at her.

You just scoff and turn away, sipping another coconut. You don't like Aonung, but you know he can do better than that.

"Quite a step down, don't you think," a voice whispers in your ear, before you realise Neteyam's standing beside you.

"What do you mean?" you ask, frowning drunkenly at your friend.

"Come off it," Neteyam grins, rolling his eyes. "It couldn't be more obvious you fucked Aonung, he's even more pussy whipped than before."

"He's not pussy whipped," you mumble. "He's just-"

"Totally obsessed with you and everything you do and everything that has to do with you?" Neteyam suggests.

"Sure," you shrug, too hazy to argue with him as you down another drink.

"But I mean, who isn't," Neteyam grins. "All the other guys in the clan are furious - they know how picky you are about lovers and the fact you chose an outsi-"

"Gross Tey," you swat at him. "They aren't my lovers, I'm just having fun. I'm still young, just let me live, mighty warrior."

He laughs, but lightly holds your arm to steady you.

"Look, Khalo has been glaring at Aonung this whole party. Moy'ka is working up the courage to come talk to you, and those five guys over there are literally fighting over who gets to shoot their shot."

"What's your point," you frown.

"My point is that you are literally the most desired girl in the clan, and it speaks volumes that you're fucking a guy that has been here for weeks when every other guy has been bending backwards to get you to look at them their whole lives," Neteyam says sternly.

"I'm not fucking Aonung," is all you reply with. "It was a one-time thing, and now I'm ready to move on and forget about it."

"He won't."

"Come on Tey," you grumble. "I heard a million stories about Aonung when you were in the reef, he was fucking girls left and right and he never got hung up on anyone. Why would he be so obsessed with me?"

"Because you aren't falling at his feet," Neteyam points out. "Look, Ninat is practically trying to suck his dick already, and he couldn't give two fucks. You have him hooked, and I know you're intrigued by him too."

"You mean annoyed," you grumble.

"No I mean intrigued," Neteyam says sternly. "I mean, why else would you be avoiding him, then having all these weird whispered conversations with him when you think we don't notice, then taking him so far away to train?"

"I take him far away so no one can hear his screams of pain," you grin, drunkenly cackling a little.

"You're fucking demented," Neteyam says fondly, tucking your face back behind your ears.

"True," you shrug carelessly feeling eyes snag back onto you.

You don't need to sense that it's Aonung looking, but you turn to meet his gaze anyway.

He's shameless about his staring, pupils tiny slits in large blue eyes like an ocean trench, before a voice interrupts you.

"Hey," Moy'ka says nervously, holding a small wrapped leaf of meat. "I brought this for you."

"What is it?"

"Yerik meat," he says awkwardly. "From my hunt. I saw you hunting one a few days ago with um... with..."

He trails off nervously, and you follow his gaze to where Aonung stands.

Aonung looks normal, half-listening to Ninat chatter on about some stupid shit, but you can see his tail flicking agitatedly behind him, and you can sense the hard coldness of his gaze from here, snagged right on your face.

You have a moments hesitation before you turn back, ignoring Aonung and smiling at Moy'ka.

"So I hunted it for you," Moy'ka says nervously.

How cute, going to the trouble of hunting a hexapede and bringing you a meal. It's not much to impress the best hunter and warrior in the clan, but you accept it graciously, and he looks so relieved and jittery that you can't help smiling.

This is another strange idea that the men in the clan have, bringing you gifts from their hunts as tokens for your "affection". It never seems to occur to them that you could easily hunt for yourself, could easily murder them too, but it seems to be some pathological need for you to accept their silly little gifts.

Moy'ka seems to be mumbling about something or another, about hunting and archery, and you find yourself thinking more about his large hands then the words he's speaking.

"Really?" you sigh, struggling to pretend you aren't bored out of your fucking mind.

"Well," Moy'ka says, before looking nervously down at you. "We could discuss it in a more private area."

At this, your ears prick up.

You're drunk and need a distraction and to be frank, you're horny.

So you grin agreeably up at Moy'ka, and follow him away from the party.

It's a little shy and messy, your head banging uncomfortably against the back of the tree you're propped against as Moy'ka clumsily holds you up.

You've barely been at this for more than a few minutes, which is undoubtedly long enough for you to realise that your standards really have slipped.

First Aonung and now this, bumbling, clumsy fucking with this endearingly nervous but not at all worthwhile guy, who's grunting - like a hog - his praises of your tightness and sweetness and beauty and other stupid fucking bullshit.

This is what you get for trying to be nice, you think. Give a sweet nervous guy a chance opposed to the cocky stupid ones, and end up with steadier rhythm of your head slamming into the tree than his thrusts.

You'd never ever fucking admit it, but Moy'ka feels like a fucking twig compared to Aonung.

You can tell Moy'ka is getting close - a good fucking thing so this can be over and you can go sleep - and he looks up at you.

"Can I-"

"Yes, yes fine," you wince, reaching up to clutch the branches in an unsuccessful effort to stop your head knocking.

He comes undone in an embarrassingly quick, loud groan, shaking with the orgasm and the effort of holding you up and against the tree.

When he finally pulls out, you wince and steady yourself on the ground, feeling extremely disgruntled and unsatisfied.

The one good thing about this interaction was that you smartly chose to go near the river, so you quickly slide away from Moy'ka.

It's only when you turn back, you spot the figure in the shadows of the trees. There's no mistaking that massive outline, or the distinctly paler, more greenish tint of their skin.

But it's the large blue eyes, seemingly gleaming out of the darkness with cold amusement that makes you shiver slightly. You duck underwater, knowing he saw you notice him, before resurfacing.

"Are you alright?" Moy'ka asks.

"Yes," you say, trying not to sound bitter about your overwhelming lack of pleasure. "You should be going."

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking slightly hurt.

"Yes," you say, eyes travelling over Moy'ka's shoulder to Aonung again.

Moy'ka also looks, and completely freezes when he sees Aonung.

"So I'm fine," you say pointedly, waiting for him to leave.

"Are you um..." Moy'ka says nervously, his gaze constantly flicking between you and Aonung. "Are you alri-"

"Yes yes I'm fine," you grumble, resisting the temptation to roll your eyes.

Finally, he slides up and tentatively steps away.

He gives Aonung a wide berth, cautiously avoiding his gaze as he scrambles away, and Aonung steps forward.

"What, skxawng," you grumble, not bothering to look at Aonung as you slide out of the river.

"Nothing."

You glare at him, able to sense the waves of his amusement from miles away.

"Mhm, and how long were you standing there?" you ask suspiciously. "Watching him fuck me-"

"Is that what that was?" Aonung scoffs. "It looked more like he was trying to hammer your head into that tree."

"Perv," you scowl. "Don't you have better things to do then stalking me?"

"Not really."

"So you were stalking me then?"

"I was going for a walk," Aonung says elusively, and your eyes narrow. "Then I heard him grunting like a fucking pig. Oh, you're so fucking tight- uhg, uhghhhhhh-"

"Didn't sound that different to you," you snap, feeling your face grow hotter.

Aonung raises an eyebrow and straightens up, so he's a good head and a half taller now.

"At least you had a good time with me," he grins.

"You are such a dick," you snap, glowering at him.

"And you have terrible fucking taste. Besides me, obviously."

"That was just one thing," you say hotly, "It wasn't that bad-"

"Not that bad," Aonung repeats incredulously. "That wasn't bad?"

"Well-"

"He was literally about to send you through that fucking tree," Aonung scoffs. "You looked so uncomfortable, I thought I'd have to come rescue-"

"I don't need your rescuing," you hiss.

"No, I think you need a good fuck," Aonung grins. "Because if that 'wasn't bad' then someone's royally fucking up with you, princess."

"Well I tried, didn't I," you hiss. "So I didn't get a good fuck, I admit it. Can you fuck off now?"

Aonung just scoffs.

"Is that really what you want?"

"What else would I want," you snap. "The great pleasure of your delightful company?"

"Have you had a good fuck?" Aonung asks instead, ignoring your sarcastic words.

"Yes."

"Besides with me," Aonung says.

You turn to glower at him, but instead of finding the expected cocky smirk on his face, you find him looking genuinely interested.

Ugh, why does he have to be so fucking invested? Why is he actually fucking caring?

"What does that matter?" you grumble.

Aonung blinks, looking sincerely engrossed.

"You haven't?" he whispers.

"I have," you grumble. "I just... I don't have very high expectations when it comes to guys."

"Oh paksalin-"

"Don't call me that," you snap at the name, which seems taunting and cold in this conversation. "I'm tired and unsatisfied so-"

Aonung settles back slightly, leaning against the same tree you had just been fucked against, if you could even call it that.

You're disgruntled to see that because of his stupid height, his head is resting against the same spot yours had repeatedly been knocked against.

"I wouldn't leave you unsatisfied," Aonung says coolly.

It takes you a moment to process his words before you snap up and stare incredulously at him.

"Really?" you say dryly, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you.

What is he on about now? Is he saying what you think he's saying? Aonung nods simply.

"I think you know I wouldn't," Aonung whispers, tilting his head a little so he's looking down at you.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

But also you're tired and impatient and still annoyingly unsatisfied, so fuck it.

"Get to the point," you snap. "Or get lost."

Aonung doesn't waste any time, pushing himself off the tree and striding towards you. It seems like he only took a single step, but suddenly he's a foot apart and you're having to tilt your head to look up at him.

"Do you want me to help you?"

His question tumbles in front of you, seemingly trapped in the little space between your body and his.

He's a smug little skxawng. He knows what the answer is, but he also knows how fucking impossible it is for you to say the answer.

"Yes or no?"

You growl under your breath, growing more irritated by the minute, but the air between you is thick and charged with tension and you can feel the anticipation growing inside you.

It's pretty fucking obvious where this is headed, but it's just so... infuriating.

Infuriating that what you want happens to be offered by the most annoying dick you've ever known in your life.

"Fine," you grumble under your breath.

"What was that princess?" he asks, fangs glinting in his familiar grin.

Not bothering to speak at all, you just crash your lips onto his and snake your hands around his neck.

There's no need for the kiss, and both of you know it. The deal was for sex and sex alone, pleasure alone, and you know what it means that you kissed him.

You kissed him.

You can feel his heartbeat picking up against your chest as he shifts, one of his hands on your waist and holding you up so your faces are closer, the other tangling in your long hair.

He smells good, like amber and sea-salt, and his lips are so soft and warm that you nearly forget about everything else and get lost in the kiss.

Then it deepens further and everything is hot and warm and tangling, his hand sliding lower, nearly at my ass.

It hardly ever occured to you how little you've kissed in your lifetime- probably less than you've fucked, but now here you are, pressing yourself as close as you can to this infuriating, uselessly hot skxawng.

If you weren't so fucking horny then yes, maybe you would have paused to think, to remember your previous distaste for him, your principal for not giving in to his amused and persistent seduction.

But you are so fucking so you just kiss him harder as one of his hands cups your jaw, the other clasping around the back of your neck and tilting your head farther up to meet him.

Your height difference seems ridiculous, and after a few moments he smiles against your mouth.

"Up," he whisper, hands travelling down.

He catches you as your legs wrap tightly around his waist, arms snaking around his neck to steady yourself.

His hands automatically move to hold you in place, one on your back and waist, the other arm propped under your ass, the hand gripping your thigh.

The kiss is messy and airless and hardly graceful, but you wouldn't have it any other fucking way.

You're all greedy and breathless, desperate for anything, and the feeling of his soft lips against your own, his fangs lightly sinking into your lip before his tongue lightly licks away the small pearls of blood just... does something.

You can already feel him growing harder below you - you think he might have already been hard before you even noticed him, watching you get clumsily fucked against that tree.

Now your head is spinning slightly, and you feel more hungry than ever.

It's infuriating, but you know out of most of the clan, this stupid outsider with his massive body and pretty paler skin is probably the best person to be doing this with.

The knowledge - knowledge you'd never speak aloud - that Aonung is the best you've ever had by a long fucking shot doesn't exactly piss you off in the way you think it would.

It isn't some aggravating, world-shattering fact, because you simply know that Aonung would be more than happy to be in this position again, offering you more pleasure because he cockily knows he can give it.

And with that, you're suddenly being pushed against the tree again, but it's different.

His hands are easily holding you up, arms cushioning under you so you aren't knocked against the hard wood. You hadn't even noticed him slide your loincloth away, but suddenly your legs are tossed over his shoulders and he's gazing up at you.

It's that same fucking look. Of the smitten, puppy-dog variety, but also with a note of hunger and lust that makes you clench around nothing.

You just look back, and there's a few moments where you just stare at each other, both of you hungry and silent, then before you know it he's dived between your legs.

It's too risky to grip his braids as you had last time - you don't want to fall down even though you know Aonung wouldn't let you drop - but you need something to hold anyway. Your hands fly to the branches above to steady yourself, nails digging shamelessly into the bark.

"Fuck," you growl under your breath as he flicks and kisses and sucks, pressing his tongue against and in you as you throw your head back against the trunk.

It isn't just his admittedly amazing talent for giving head that is just so overwhelming- it has something to do with the way he's so effortlessly holding you up, something to do with the little growls and hums he lets out against you, something to do with the realisation he's not holding himself back.

Last time, even though he had been trying to impress you, he had still restrained himself somewhat.

But now he knows your hungry, and he could probably get away with doing anything.

His hands are holding so tight to your thighs you can already see the little purple blooms of a bruise under his fingers, and he's making sure to sink his fangs lightly into your inner thighs every now and again.

The tiny pearls of scarlet blood are smearing with slick and spit all over the lower half of his face, but he's just humming delightedly against you, his tail swinging happily behind him and a dopey, self-satisfied grin on his face.

Your legs begin to shake around his head, eyes rolling all the way back as you moan louder and claw at the branch you're desperately clutching.

"I- I'm fucking close," you manage to choke out between loud moans, and Aonung growls against you, not even bothering to look up. "Don't you want to-"

Aonung pulls away, looking distinctly disgruntled that you're talking to him and making him stop his relentless attack on your cunt.

"Go ahead, I'm planning on satisfying you much more than once princess," he says off-handedly, before diving back down with more fervour than ever.

The words you were going to say die in your throat as you gasp loudly, and before you know it, you're tumbling over that edge he had you teetering on.

He licked your essence greedily, growling with every swallow as though he was starved. But he didn't stop, continuing to lick and suck with reckless abandon, grinning at your increasingly whiny moans.

"Okay, okay," you laugh shakily, pushing lightly at his head. "I got-"

"Just one more," he mumbles against you.

You're about to protest, to tell him he doesn't need to, when he gives you large, pleading eyes and you realise this isn't just about you.

He's sincerely enjoying himself - your taste, your moans, your heels digging into his back and legs trembling on his shoulders from the increasingly overwhelming overstimulation.

You just whine loudly when he blinks pleadingly at you, but you aren't about to back down now.

He's watching you carefully, eyes flicking between your trembling body and your rolling eyes and shamelessly loud moans.

Your breath is so shaky that your body trembles with each desperate inhale you attempt at, but it's hard to beat off your moans and whimpers for a moment long enough to draw breath.

Finally you just let go, squirting all over Aonung with a keening cry, trembling all over and nearly going limp in his arms.

You're mortified at how intense your orgasm was, even more so when you open your eyes and see yourself limp against the tree, propped up carefully by Aonung.

"Are you alright?" he asks, looking distinctly pleased with himself but also a little concerned.

"Sure," you say with a shaky laugh as Aonung sets you back down. "Where did you learn that shit?"

"I picked it up," Aonung shrugs modestly, at complete odds with the cocky confidence gleaming in his ocean eyes. "Just here and there."

"Right," you say, rolling your eyes at him, before noticing the bulge in his tewng.

He's painfully fucking hard now, and you can see the seams of his loincloth straining.

"Do you need some help?"

Your questions surprises you both. But then again, he did do a great job with you, and you weren't selfish. You're happy to help him out.

"I'm supposed to be helping you," Aonung points out, shifting slightly to cover his erection.

"You did," you argue. "Don't be up yourself, you can ask for help too."

When Aonung just stares at you, you shift closer and lightly trace his bulge.

Instantly, his breath hitches and his body instinctively moves to follow your touch. You teasingly let your hand drop and he exhales as you turn to raise your brows at him.

"So?"

"Yes," he breathes.

"Yes what, Aonung," you ask, feigning stupidness.

"Please help me," he begs.

It was easier than you thought as you grin and oblige, moving to your knees and sliding his tewng down, reaching out to grab his cock before it smacks against his admittedly very toned abs.

It feels fucking massive in your small slim hand - the smooth teal colour looking prettily pale against the azure blue of your forest na'vi skin, the glowing blue tahnì gleaming invitingly at you.

You pump his cock a few times, grinning as he chokes out a groan, and lick a stripe along him before closing your lips around the tip. Instantly, his hand closes on a fist full of your hair as his head tips back against the tree, swallowing a choked groan as he watches you take him into your mouth.

He jerks when you open your mouth wider. You don't hate the way it stretches your lips - he's the biggest you've ever had and it makes the hinge of your jaw ache as you force him down your throat.

When he hits the back of your throat, he groans loudly and inadvertedly thrusts his hips forward. You choke a little and his grip on your hair loosens slightly as he mutters a bashful apology, but you just grin slightly to yourself before taking him even deeper, suckling on the head and the sides over and over.

You're pulling groans and curses out of him as easily as he pulls your head gently up and down on his cock. You don't mind it, he did a good job and this is his reward.

You feel him getting closer, twitching in your mouth. His moans are getting louder and breathier too, and his grip on your soft dark braids is only getting stronger and stronger until you're just letting him move your head, mouth open for him and eyes watching him all the while.

But as he's nearly at his peak, he pulls you off him, not wanting to cum in your mouth, but you just grab his hips and push him deep into your throat, moaning slightly and sucking faster.

That alone makes him come, letting out a stream of low groans and softly mutter your name again and again as you keep moving through his high until he's cursing, catching his breath and lightly pulling you off him.

His pupils are blown wide, large black spheres ringed in a fine line of bright icy blue as he looks down at you, hand absentmindedly moving to cup your face and gently wipe away the rest of the mess he left on your face.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "You didn't have to do-"

"I wanted to," you say without thinking.

Aonung blinks, still struggling to catch his breath as he realises what he's doing and quickly drops his hand away.

"Well," he says thoughtfully. He looks like he's trying to wrench his gaze away from you, yet those large blue eyes stay stubbornly fixed in yours.

You don't exactly want to look away, but you have a strange feeling that even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to tear your own gaze away either.

It's something about the way you're both standing, him hunched and slumped slightly against the tree, you drawn to your full height, and the fact that he's still nearly a foot taller.

Then there's a shout of laughter through the trees, and you remember about the party and the village and every other single fucking thing that you just happened to forget when you were with Aonung.

Stupid skxawng.

"We should go back to the party," you say quickly, the first words that jump into your mind.

You know what you're doing. For the first time in your life, you're backing down. And it's not because he intimidates you- quite the opposite.

It's what you see as the possibilities that frighten you. Because sure, the night was obviously going to end with you and Aonung doing that, because the fucking tension was just unbearable. Because when he looks at you like that, it's pretty fucking obvious what he's thinking.

Neteyam was right, but he isn't just fucking pussy whipped. Despite all of Aonung's cocky joking comments, he doesn't only like you. He's not just attracted to you.

He wants more than these little forest quickies, and you... you just have no idea what you want.

So maybe you have intimacy issues. What do you do now? This has never happened, feeling a desire to overcome those very issues.

WHAT HAS THIS STUPID, MASSIVE, FISH-LIPPED, MUSCULAR, INFURIATING, HANDSOME, RIDICULOUS, COCKY, SWEET, GENTLE SKXAWNG DONE TO YOU?

Aonung just nods, eyes still following you as you pass him his loincloth and slide on your own.

"Hey," he says, nudging you slightly as you walk back towards the village. "If you're ever left unsatisfied, just come and find me again."

"I'm pretty sure you'll be the one to come and find me if I'm hooking up," you grumble.

"At least I can deal with you," Aonung shrugs.

"Same with you," you grin with raised brows. "Seems like we can't have a conversation without you getting hard."

Aonung swats lightly at you, and you shove him into a bush.

"So is that a yes then?" Aonung calls after you, struggling to stand back up and brush the leaves off himself. "We'll help each other out? Friends with benefits?"

"Not friends," you point out. "We'd have to like each other to be friends."

"I don't have a problem with you," Aonung shrugs. "I think you're quite fantastic."

"Okay I already sucked your dick, don't try to get in my pants again," you grumble. "I'll see you later."

"Alright," Aonung says, grinning at you as you return to the village.

No one pays any attention to the fact that you returned together, though you notice Neteyam's golden eyes on the pair of you as you walk towards your kelku.

You don't bother saying goodnight as you and Aonung split up to go to your neighbouring homes.

But as you duck into the shelter of your kelku, you can still feel the burn of that icy gaze on you.

Friends with benefits?

You're still pretty drunk, but you can't bring yourself to bother about anything else as you crawl into your woven bed.

You can worry about the events of tonight tomorrow, but it's not like your agreement to Aonung's proposal means anything. Just sex- just helping the other out.

Nothing intimate.

At all.

166 notes · View notes

foxyarchive · 2 months

Text

Your Guardian Angel(Or Devil) P3

You go on a date, and Adam can't resist being a dick about it. Set between chapters 1 & 2.

Cross Posted on AO3!

Warnings: Drinking, mild spice, brief dubious consent with Adam(nothing bad, promise).

Words: ~6k

Well found out I'm bad at writing stuff that's not plot LMAO like Reader and Adam shitposting. Wanna do more of it but it's hard for me to write... So probably plot either next chapter or next. Tried to prolong as long as I could soz.

Tags in comments! Ask to be added to the Taglist!

P1 | P2 | P3

You step out of the shower with a sigh, toweling off your body and drying your hair as best as you can for the time being. You had a few hours until you were going out, so you were going to take your time getting yourself looking nice and presentable. You wrap the towel around your body, bending over your sink to wash your face and brush your teeth. When you’ve finished that, you move to adjust your towel so it doesn’t fall, trying to decide what you want to use on your hair.

“Weeeeelll, looks like I popped up at the right time.” You scream in shock, your hand fumbling as your towel drops and pools around your feet. You hear a whistle, and look over with a burning face as you see Adam standing just outside your bathroom door, biting his lip and wiggling his brows.

“A-Adam! Fuck– S-Stop looking!” You crow, trying to cover your bits as best you can as you bend down to pick up your towel. He just laughs, pointing a finger at you as you try to remain a shred of modesty. Your face and body are unbearably warm right now in embarrassment. You can’t even look him in the eye.

“Chillaaaax, sweet-tits, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Comes his too haughty for your liking response. Somehow, you burn even more at that as you try to wrap your towel around yourself.

“W-What? You’ve… Seen me naked before?” You tremble a bit, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the sudden admission to the lack of privacy.

“Duh. I have this orb thing that lets me just look in on you whenever I want. I don’t really use it, though, don’t care enough to watch your boring ass life.” He says it so nonchalantly, you can’t help but to feel goosebumps raise over your skin. The look across your face must’ve caught his attention, as he just gives another wave of his hand and roll of his eyes as he turns away from you. “It’s a Guardian thing, don’t make it fuckin’ weird now. I mean, unless you wanna.” He looks back at you with a sly leer, raising his brows once again.

“No!” You respond, almost immediately, appalled at the implication. One that an angel was making, no less! Wasn’t he supposed to be more… Virtuous? You do remember the last time you saw him, though… Implied he could really get away with whatever he wanted. There has to be certain boundaries that can’t be crossed, though. He just shrugs, turning away boredly.

“Your loss, babes.” He makes his way into your bedroom, and you follow after him as you finish fixing your towel around yourself.

“Isn’t lust a sin?” You can’t help but ask as he spreads out his wings and flops back onto your bed carelessly.

“‘Isn’t lust a sin!?’” He mocks you in that stupid ass voice again, and you puff out your cheeks in annoyance. “I don’t sin. I’m fuckin’ Adam, in case you forgot. I’m perfect.” He grins, pointing at himself. He then proceeds to roll over to his side, propping his head up with a hand as his elbow rests on the bed. You just suppress a sigh, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. Wait… He was here. Did that mean…?

“Was I about to die?” You suddenly gape, looking around the room, wondering what was going to happen. An earthquake? Maybe you use a blow dryer and you almost get electrocuted? Slipping and falling out of the shower, perhaps? You look back when he doesn’t respond at first, and you see the face he makes.

“The fuck? No, what?” He frowns, and you mirror the confusion on your face.

“But… That’s why you’re here… Right? You come around to prevent my death…?” You inquire, slowly, and a small look of realization passes across his features.

“Oooh… Yeah, nah, I was just bored. Wanted to swing by, see how your shitty mortal life was going.” He declares, flopping onto his back once more, resting his hands on his stomach. His horns rest over the side of your bed. So does most of his body. He’s massive.

“Are you allowed to do that?” You blink. He turns his head slightly towards you, exasperated.

“‘Tits, we just went over this.” He deadpans. Oh. Right. He’s Adam. He can do… Whatever he wants, apparently.

“Err. Okay, right, well…” You shift from side to side, somewhat nervous. Some droplets fall from your hair onto your shoulders and back, despite having tried to dry it off earlier. “Sorry to… Disappoint you? But I’m going out tonight, so I can’t… Hangout??” What do you even say? Did he want to hang out? Just say hello? What kind of weird relationship were you starting to build with your divine fucking angel?

“Wow, finally doin’ something on a Friday night besides binging a shitty show, doing a game, or jilling off?” He remarks, sitting up now as your face heats up even more.

“D-Don’t say that!” You groan, turning away as you cover your face with your hands at his crass words. He really does look in on you! You’re not proud about how you spend some of your weekend nights… You like to go hangout with your friends when you can, but everyone can get so busy. You hear him mockingly laugh, which only makes you heat up more in embarrassment. “For your information, I have a date tonight! So if you can just… Fly off or whatever so I can get ready, that would be great, thanks.” You snip over your shoulder, turning and walking back in the bathroom.

You squeak in surprise as Adam suddenly appears in front of you, wings flared as he hunches over your smaller stature. “A date, huh? Really? You?” He sneers, and you scoff, anger flaring in your chest.

“Yes, me! That’s rude. I’m attractive! And capable of dating. And holding conversations. I’m doing it with you right now!” You pause, briefly. “The conversation part, I mean.” He hums, giving a small nod of his head, crossing his arms as he tucks his wings back against his side.

“Uh-huh, suuuure. And you don’t want me to go with you?” He rubs his chin, and you squint at him.

“What are you getting at? Why would I want you to come with? So you can distract me?” You roll your eyes, inching passed him to go and gather some makeup to put on.

“Babes, if you’re that distracted by me, maybe it’s best to not go out with some other bozo while you’re thinkin’ about me. After all, I am right here.” He grins, slinging an arm across your shoulder. You stiffen at the contact, swallowing nervously as he dips his face close to yours. Why did your Guardian Angel have to be so horny? Looking at the size of him as well, even if you both did end up tangled in bed, you’re not even certain it’d fit… “Thinkin’ about this dick? Don’t blame you.” He lightly grips your chin with the arm around your shoulder, pushing it to look towards him. He cranes his head closer to you. You’re horrified he caught on to your train of thought. “Don’t worry, it’ll feel fucking great. I’ll make sure that pretty little pus–”

“No, no, stop!” As he begins to ramble, you suddenly pull yourself away from him, breathing more rapid. To your relief, he just looks irritated, but he doesn’t pressure you or crowd you again. He pulls back, even seeming to flatten his wings a little more against his side to make himself appear less large. “I’m not– You’re not– This is… Inappropriate! I’m like… Your client, or whatever!” You grimace at the wording, even if it’s true. Adam just rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“I fuckin’ told you, it doesn’t matter. We can do whatever the fuck we want.” He pauses. “Almost anything. Fucking is on the list, though.” He confirms with a nod. You just groan, putting your head in your hands.

“I… I don’t… I mean… How could you even want to fuck me?” You can’t help but ask, as you consider this more and more.

“Uuuh. Because you’re hot and got a rockin’ bod?” He lifts a brow. Well, guess that’s some sort of an ego boost for you… or is it? Adam seems like the kinda guy to stick his dick in anyone with a pulse that throws mild attention his way, really. Maybe you should take that comment with a grain of salt, then…

“No, I mean– You’ve watched me my whole life. Don’t you feel some sort of… I don’t know… Protective, parental kinship for me?” You can’t help but ask, grimacing a bit at the thought. You don’t know whether to feel angry or embarrassed as he starts laughing at you, full blown, even hunching over a bit. “Why are you– That’s not funny!” You stutter out. It’s anger you feel, alright. He straightens up some, trying to calm down, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Oooh. Oh, that’s fuckin’ hilarious, ‘tits. Really, super funny.” He wheezes, an easy grin crossing his features as he puts his hands on his hips. “Nice try, but ah, no. You’re right, in a sense. You’re basically just my nuisance client.” He pauses, tapping his chin. “Mm… Maybe more like a pet.” He mumbles in thought, and you feel another flare of anger.

“A– A pet!?” You cry in outrage.

“Yeah! But like, a fuckable one. Shit, wait no, that sounds fucking weird, back that up–” He puts his hands up, and you decide to bite your tongue as you resist the urge to go and pluck his wings. “Uuugh, why are you making me describe this shit! Look.” He finally breathes in, clasping his hands together as he takes a step towards you. You shift a half step back, and he stops, but continues talking. “To me, you’re just this lady I gotta look after. Like I said, I didn’t really actually watch you. Checked occasionally because Sera was on my dick about it, but that’s whatever. You’re like, what, thirty something now, though?”

“I’m–” You begin to offer him your correct age, but he just waves you off.

“Whatever, you’re old.” You huff at his comment. “You’re an adult, you can make your own fuckin’ choices, yada yada. All I'm saying is: Original dickmaster, right here.” He grins, pointing to himself. You remain silent, still eyeing him, face still slightly scrunched up. Even if you both were two consenting adults(with him falling more along the lines of… primordial demi-God way older than you), you're not losing sight of what you have in mind tonight. Especially not for Adam, who has been quite callous with you. You're not even sure he actually likes you.

“Okay, well… Thanks for all the clarification. I guess.” You utter the last part under your breath, turning away from him. “Still going out with my date tonight. Still would like it if you weren't there.” You then declare, moving past him once more to go and get ready, and you just hear a scoff leave his throat.

“You sure ‘bout that? Hear men on Earth are pretty shitty. What if he tries to… I dunno, kill you or something?” He states, and you can see the squint he’s eyeing you with through your mirror.

“Then you’ll protect me? Like you’re supposed to?” You can’t help but to bite out in response, growing tired of this. Adam hisses out a slow, quiet breath through his teeth, clicking his tongue.

“I dunno about that… I mean, what if it’s your time? What if this is where you meet your fate? At the hands of some dude you think is cool?” The seed he sows in your head makes you pause at what you’re doing. He did say that he knew when you were going to die, but… He’s just fucking with you. He has to be.

“Okay, well, even if this was where I was going to die, then who cares? It’s fate, right? You can’t interfere with that.” You roll your eyes, trying to quell the now uncertain flutter in your stomach. He walks forward once more, hovering right behind you as he cranes his neck down slightly to peer at you. You don’t turn around to meet him, only eye him uncertainly through the mirror.

“Don’t you remember who I am?” He utters to you, quietly, and that makes you pause. There’s no shot he can circumvent your death… Right? Besides, he was just bluffing. You were going to be fine tonight. He backs off, though, abrupt and with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “Just saying. Lotta stuff can happen.” Then he disperses in a flitter of gold. You’ve never felt more uncertain in your life. You assume he’s just trying to get your goat, but the anxiety in you is beginning to try and spin a tale otherwise. You look ahead, just focusing on getting ready.

The rest of the time you doll yourself up, it’s blissfully quiet, which acts as both a blessing and a curse. You can just focus on the night ahead, but it also lets you mull over your thoughts about what Adam said. He’s just fucking with me. He’s not serious about it. Why is he even saying stuff like that? You ponder as you finally get into your car, heading towards the bar you were supposed to be meeting your date. You park, check yourself in the mirror, and head inside. There you spot your date, sitting at the bartop, and all you can think of currently is thank God you didn’t get catfished.

“Hey! Ryan, right?” You smile as you approach, and he looks at you, offering a smile in return. He inquires your name, and you nod, unto which he shakes your hand when you hold it out. Well, it starts as a handshake, and turns into a somewhat unprompted hug, which you gingerly return before you sit next to him.

“It’s great to meet you in person! You look lovely.” He compliments, and you offer a bashful smile, returning a compliment yourself. After you both decide on what to drink and order, he faces back towards you. You both begin to divulge the basics of one another– What you do for work, what hobbies you have, some places you’ve visited before. It’s going fine, and he’s awfully nice, but you can’t help but to feel… A little bored. Any spark you had felt over texting him through the app you’d met him in is slowly beginning to drain. You have a few things in common, but not much, and you can’t help but to feel a little worn down with the conversation. It certainly doesn’t help that you’ve ordered another drink as well. Why the Hell did you do that?

As you’re beginning to feel your eyes glaze over when he talks about a very… Uninteresting work trip he had in a rather monotonous way, something catches your attention. It’s out of the corner of your eye. A flicker of gold. You glance over, seeing nothing of the sort, and shift a bit to draw your attention back to Ryan. Suddenly, your date flinches a bit, and you frown, sitting up. “Are you okay?” You ask, and he rubs the side of his head, glancing around. You look down, noticing a partially discarded peanut shell next to his barstool.

“Yeah, sorry, I… I thought I felt something.” He frowns, looking back at you, giving a sheepish smile. “Guess it was nothing. Anyways, as I was saying, we arrived at this studio where–” You see the peanut shell coming this time, smacking Ryan square in the ear. He looks behind him, and slowly, you do as well. Your eyes stretch wide in mortification. You see Adam, sitting at an empty table, a smirk on his face with an array of used peanut shells on the table. Someone had just left, and looks like he decided to sit there and bug your date. For a moment, a flicker off worry runs through you. Can Ryan see him? You crane your neck over a bit, but by the look of stark confusion on his features, it’s clear that he can’t. “Did– Did you see anyone throw something at me?” He frowns, and you bite the inside of your cheek. You can see Adam’s grin widen.

“No.” You respond, because truthfully, you didn’t actually see Adam do it. You’re sure it’s him, though… Ryan just rubs the back of his neck, giving you a sheepish look.

“I swear, I keep feeling something pelting me… I guess it just must be my imagination.” He murmurs, and your eyes shift past him. You see Adam lining up another shell, biting his tongue in concentration. You give him a warning glare as best as you can without making it seem like you’re pointing your stare towards Ryan, but either Adam doesn’t catch onto it or doesn’t care. He flicks his middle finger, and the shell goes flying, thunking Ryan right on the back of his head. This time, Ryan stands up, flustered as he looks around to try and catch the culprit. You dig your nails into your palms as Adam begins to laugh, pointing at your date as he leans back in the chair.

“Ahah– You should– You should see his face. He’s so pissed. And confused. Not– Not sure which he’s more of.” He cackles. You try your best– You really, really do. You want to be upset with Adam interrupting things, but you can’t help giving a snort of laughter. You then cover your mouth, trying to stifle it as best as you can as Ryan’s head swivels around to catch the culprit.

“Are– Are you okay, Ryan?” You try not to wheeze or show that much of a smile as he huffs out, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“No– I mean, yes, I just– There is somebody here who is pelting me with… With something.” He finally looks at the ground, near him, seeing the shells. “With peanuts, I suppose… I can’t find out who.” You feel guilty, now, as you see the embarrassed look across his features. Even more guilty that you have to pretend like he’s crazy. Is this gaslighting?

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen anyone doing anything.” You finally say. You don’t feel good about it, but what can you do? Tell him your primordial guardian angel that acts like a twelve year old is flicking used peanut shells at him?

“Yes, I’m sure! I think I am, at least.” He’s looking more and more uncertain now, sheepishly sitting back down. You offer him a comforting pat on his hand as he takes a sip of his drink, trying not to draw your eyes away from him as Adam comes over.

“This dude is soooo boring. Why don’t you fuckin’ leave already?” He scoffs, crossing his arms as he glowers down at Ryan. You stiffen as you see someone walking in the path of Adam, but to your slight surprise(and relief), the person walks right through him. Adam’s body shimmers and ripples a bit as it happens, but it doesn’t seem to disturb him at all. For obvious reasons, you can’t respond, especially as Ryan speaks back up.

“I’m sorry, maybe I’m just… Being paranoid. I’m a little nervous, sorry, but the date has been wonderful so far! You’re really interesting, I’m so glad I got to come out here with you.” He admits, smiling a bit bashfully, and you can’t help but to smile at the rather sweet admission as well. You feel your cheeks warm. You see Adam faux gag himself with a finger, and you suppress the urge to snip something to him.

“I’m glad we got to do this, too.” You respond back to Ryan. Well, even if you didn’t really click, it was still nice to get out and get a drink. Speaking of… Maybe you should finish your second one a little faster. A flicker of guilt passes through you. Perhaps… You could make a bit more of an effort. Ask additional questions about his trip, engage more where you can. “What, uh… Made you want to work as an interior designer? Family, or just something personal?” You decide on, because that can always be interesting. Ryan seems to perk up at the question.

“My grandmother was one, actually! I didn’t realize how much I liked it until I went with her one day when I was younger to work in an emergency.” He chuckles. “I got to see how she worked, who she worked with, and how she would put some things together.”

“Ask him if he’s sure he’s actually interested in women.” Adam pipes up, moving to stand beside you, and you grit your jaw at his comment. That almost makes you snap out and snarl at him, but you try not to as Ryan continues to go on about the experience, as well as what pushed him further towards it. “Fucking– This guy is so boring. It’s boring me and I don’t even have to pretend to be listening.” He groans out, tilting his head back.

Why doesn’t he just leave? You can’t help but to think in irritation. Adam isn’t bound here. Unless… Something is going to happen, but you don’t get that feeling. You watch as your Guardian moves to stand beside your date, now, making a talking motion with his hand while he mimics something similar to ‘blah, blah, blah’ with his mouth. Trying to stifle a noise of anger, you quickly slam down your drink with a sigh, just as Ryan finishes his story. He can see the force you put your drink down with, and he blinks.

“Are you alright?” He inquires, and you sigh out, giving him a smile. Adam is really grinding your gears. Your head is just a bit fuzzy thanks to the drinks. You can think clearly enough, but you also feel on the edge enough to spite Adam with all of his comments tonight.

“Yeah, fine. Sorry. Getting a bit loud in here is all. Wanna head back to my place?” You find yourself asking, quirking a brow.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” It’s more of an exclamation than a question Adam shoots out, and you suppress a smirk, opting for the smile on your face. Ryan seems a little taken aback, a faint pink dusting his cheeks.

“I got some streaming services, if that’s to your fancy.” You add in. Ryan was boring, sure. You thought that, but hearing Adam say it and egg you on to leave just pushed you to do this. Plus, Ryan was really attractive. Like, totally your type.

“O-Oh. Yeah, sure, okay.” He smiles, bashful again, how sweet. He finishes his own drink, pays, and the two of you head out. You can see Adam standing in the background, irritation written all over his features, and you can’t help but to sneak a look back at him and stick out your tongue. He just flips you off before he disappears. You tell Ryan to follow you as you get into your car, and he gets into his, and you lead him back to your apartment. It’s quiet when you both walk in, and Adam isn’t even around anymore. Suddenly, you’re a bit irritated he didn’t stick around. You were supposed to be rubbing this in his face… Or something! Maybe not. You wanted him to leave, wanted to spite him, and clearly you did enough to make him piss off.

You’re… Almost a little sad, now. How awful of you.

“Sorry, uh… Don’t have a lot of people over. Or room in here.” You admit, as you motion to only the beanbag. It’s giant, sure, but it’s not a couch. “I could grab a chair from the nook, though, if you prefer.”

“No, no, this is fine! I really like it.” Ryan laughs a bit, taking a seat on one end of the beanbag, and you do the same. You flick on the television, and open up a streaming service. You both look through it, trying to decide what to watch, and finally decide on some documentary(courtesy of Ryan choosing it). You settle in, beginning to watch, and you’re just waiting for Adam to pop up at any moment. Nothing. You tap your finger on your arm. It’s quiet. A bit awkward. Ryan is fidgeting a bit, and so are you, and you suddenly wonder how this is going to go. He has the same idea, as he’s stealing glances at you occasionally.

Well. Fine, then. You didn’t invite Ryan over because he was a good conversationalist. You inch closer to him, and he does to you as well. His arm moves around your back, and you lean closer, gingerly resting your head on his shoulder. A few more minutes like that before he starts to rub his hand up and down your back. You play with the buttons on his top, undoing one deftly. He glances down at you, and you peer up at him, smiling somewhat shyly as he offers back a similar look. He’s the first to lean in, but you’re the first to meet him in a kiss. It begins chaste, even if both of your hands don’t remain so much, before it begins to progress further.

You sit up a bit more, slinging one leg between his own, stradling one of them now. You feel him lift his leg up a bit, and you can’t suppress the small groan that leaves your lips as you feel rub right up against your crotch. He gives a receptive groan and roll of his leg as you grind against him, bringing one hand to run through his hair, tugging on it. His palms slide down your back and sides, before one comes to grope your ass, and the other briefly fondles your breast, before he tugs on the hem of your shirt. You oblige, popping open another one for his own shirt, and he gets the message. You both briefly split from the kiss to remove your shirts, before diving back in with more fervor.

As you grind yourself on his leg, you allow one of your hands to travel down and palm him through his pants, able to feel how he’s straining already. For a moment, you both break the kiss for air, and he takes the time to tilt your head to the side, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck and collarbone as he works his hands on the back to unclasp your bra. You pant against him, head tilted, eyes half lidded, before you catch sight of something out of the corner of your eye. You gasp in shock just as your bra comes off, recoiling in fear as you see Adam standing off to the side. To your credit, he looks completely unimpressed, arms crossed, eyebrow raised as he watches the scene.

Ryan pauses, thinking you were startled by what he was doing. He looks flustered, gaze heavy with lust and confusion. “Sorry! I thought we were… Going to…” He begins, trailing off, and you look back at him, feeling flustered yourself.

“Yeah! Sorry, I thought… I saw something…” You begin to apologize, and you hear Adam blow a raspberry and give a thumbs down.

“C’mon, it was just gonna get good! Thought you wanted to fuck him, ‘tits. That’s why you invited him over, right?” He sneers, walking over now, looming over the two of you. You can’t help but to stare up at him, eyes wide, body incredibly warm in both arousal and embarrassment. It looks strange to Ryan, obviously, and he draws you back to him with a hand slowly creeping up your back. “Are… Are you okay?” He asks, quietly, tentatively.

“Y-Yes, I’m…” You taper off, unsure what to say. Adam shifts to stand behind you, putting a hand on your neck, slowly pushing your body closer to Ryan.

“Well, go on. Fuck him. You wanted to, right?” He hisses out, and you find yourself trembling. Why is… Why is Adam doing this? Why is he egging you on, when it sounds like he doesn’t actually want you to be doing this? Is this a test? Your trembling doesn’t stop, and that’s finally when Ryan grimaces a bit, pushing you back. Adam doesn’t force you forward anymore, letting you go as your date sits up.

“We don’t have to do this. It’s fine. It’s, um… A bit late, anyways, I should probably… Head out…” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he takes his hands away from you. You let out a breath, giving a small, spaced out nod as you shakily roll to the side. Ryan grabs his shirt, deftly slipping it back on and buttoning it up. All you can do is sit and watch, feeling Adam squinting at you out of the corner of your eye. Ryan gets to his feet, finally, clearing his throat once more as he looks down at you. “It was… Nice to meet you.” He winces, rubbing the back of his neck, and all you can do is purse your lips and nod in response. He takes that as his queue to leave, awkwardly turning and shuffling out to the door.

“...Drive safe.” You balk, weakly, after him as the door shuts behind him. You’re still topless, arms covering your breasts, and once he’s gone, you hear Adam sigh out.

“FINALLY. Holy shit he was soooo boring. Can’t believe you were trying to prove some point by inviting him over.” The angel huffs, plopping down next to you on the beanbag as you grab the remote. You just sit there, frozen, unsure of what to do or say. You feel as awkward as Ryan felt earlier as he begins to flip through channels. “I mean, not like that guy would’ve actually gotten you off I bet.” He laughs, flaring a wing out to slap you with it. You sputter lightly, shifting forward as you feel the soft feathers against your back. “Be a babe and get me some chips, will ya?” Numbly, you just stand up, still trying to process everything that’s happening. You still feel flustered. The inside of your underwear are slick, a true testament to how long it’s been since you’ve fooled around with someone else.

For a moment, you just stare down at Adam. He glances up at you, looking bored, and then irritated. He opens his mouth to say something, but you finally find your voice. “What– Why– Why did you do that? Interrupt us? Do you know how… How inappropriate that was!?” Now that the shock and embarrassment is wearing off, you finally feel anger broiling to the surface. You wave your hands about somewhat for emphasis. “You could have just interfered with something big for me! What if him and I were like… Fate, or something!? He could’ve been the love of my life! I’ll never know what could’ve been, now, because you popped up and were fucking weird!” You’re flushed again, baring your teeth in anger. What infuriates you even more is that, even though Adam’s eyes don’t have pupils, you can very clearly tell that he’s staring at your boobs. Right, you’re still shirtless.

“Adam!!” You shriek in frustration, grabbing your shirt and throwing it at his face. It’s his turn to sputter out, grabbing the garment as you snatch up your bra and begin to storm away, starting to put it back on.

“Chill, bitch, I’m listening! Why the fuck you getting so uppity for?” He snaps out, and you hear him get up too. Well, you hear the beanbag shift slightly, and you don’t even hear him as he seems to glide effortlessly over to you, grabbing your arm and flipping you around to face him. At this point, your bra is back on, but his eyes are actually on your face this time. “I literally helped you!”

“Helped me!?” You blanch, incredulous at his claim. “How the fuck did cockblocking me help me!? Everything was consensual!” He just sneers at this, poking a finger into your chest.

“Because you didn’t actually want it. You were just trying to prove a point, weren’t you?” He snips back, and your mouth opens. Goddammit, he’s right… Partially. You had just done it as a ‘fuck you’ to him, with how rude and openly he was complaining about Ryan, but… He was also hot, and it was just a casual fling. What was so bad about that? “Oh, come on, don’t tell me that walking snooze-fest actually was a turn on for you.” He scoffs, and you just shut your mouth. You feel your cheeks burning, and look away, feeling too embarrassed to have this discussion.

“W-We’re not talking about this!” You finally stutter out, and he makes an incredulous noise as you turn to leave. He just grips your arm again, though, pulling you back towards him.

“No. Fucking. Chance.” He grits his teeth, hand reaching down to pop the button on your jeans. You squeal out, trying to writhe out of his grasp, but stop with a gasp as you feel his fingers push right past your panties and slide between your folds. A squeak leaves you, thankfully, instead of a moan that wants to come out. You’re still aching, afterall, even after getting upset with this whole ordeal. Adam brings his fingers out, looking over the slick that thickly covers his gloves, and a sneer appears on his face. “Un-fucking-believable that guy got you this worked up.” He snips, glaring at you and your flustered features. That sneer quickly winds into a smirk, though, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth.

“Don’t–” You try to take control, but can only bite your lip as you watch his golden tongue poke out and drag the two digits covered in your slick down it, before he sucks on them. “Oh my God!” You whine, finally pulling yourself free as you turn away, hands covering your face.

“Good girls don’t go to Heaven when they use the Father’s name in vain.” His hands are on your shoulders, his head craning near your neck. You feel his breath hot on you, and a shudder runs down your spine as you try to suppress whatever primal urge is inside of you that wants you to turn around and beg Adam to shove his fingers back down your pants again.

“I– I’m going to bed– Alone!” You finally manage to work out of your mouth, shrugging away from him, rubbing your arms as you try to stem the heat flaring through your body. He doesn’t give follow, and just scoffs once more.

“Really? You just gonna go to sleep blueballed?” You hear him huff. “Dickmaster right here, remember!”

“Fuck you!” You snarl back, the events of tonight playing out in your mind once more, making you terse and aggravated. You turn around once you’re in your room, ready to slam the door, and he’s just standing there, eyebrow raised, arms crossed.

“Yeah, sure, I’m right here.” He grins, and you snarl in frustration, slamming the door. “Your loss, bitch! Have fun with your hand!” You hear him bark, and you can only assume he’s gone, as you don’t hear anything else outside your room. With a groan, you walk over to your bed, flopping onto it. You rub your hands across your face, grimacing as you see some of your makeup come off in the process. Tonight had been a clusterfuck, to say the least, and you feel on the verge of tears from it all. Part of you wants to cry, but you do your best to suppress the urge, biting the inside of your cheek.

“‘Have fun with your hand’.” You find yourself scoffing out his words, glaring up at the ceiling, before you promptly flick it off. “Fuck you, pervy asshole. Bet you would like me to do that so you can watch like some fucking weirdo.” You don’t even know if he can hear you, but you can only hope so. Or maybe not. How desperate are you to get a jab in, after all? You just groan out, getting up. You clean the makeup off your face, and change into night clothes as you crawl back into bed. The first thing you do is go to the app you met Ryan on and unmatch, because you are far too embarrassed about this situation to want to see him again.

…And, Adam was right. Ryan was really boring.

#reader insert #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #you #hazbin hotel adam #reader

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