#they rent a nice place in a town they enjoy living in and have a long term partner and a secure career | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arcanefox207 · 1 month

Text

The Wolf You Feed (Part 1)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 8k

Part 1 / ? (Ongoing Series)

Summary: Set in fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). This chapter includes smut with fingering and cum eating. Dominant Joel. Eventual Angst. Drinking Alcohol. Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab.

Chapter Excerpt: He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear.

“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you.

A/N: Please hang in there. This chapter has a lot of setup and is a bit of a slow burn. Its also my first fic and I am pouring my heart and soul into it.

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N

“Remember, if you need anything you can ask Joel. He knows his way around the house” your mother reminds you.

“Thanks, I will be fine but I’ll keep that in mind.” You appease her but have no intention of bothering her neighbor.

“Love you, honey. Talk later!”

“Bye mom. Love you.” You end the call and slump back against the couch. This was going to be your home for the next few months. Your parents had gone south to avoid the brutal New England winter and had offered their summer vacation home in Kineo to you in the interim. No rent and plenty of free time to figure out what to do with your life next. All you had to do was pay the utilities and keep an eye on things.

The offer was genuine but also came from a place of concern. You had spent the last few years living a more-or-less nomadic life and poorly indulging your dreams of adventure. Your bachelors degree in Liberal Arts proving to be as useless as everyone told you it would be. It got you jobs easy enough but nothing that felt like a long term career. It all felt directionless but you also had been hell bent on proving everyone else wrong and keeping up the appearance that you were doing just fine.

Your past relationships were nothing too exciting either. Months of casually dating someone and it not really going anywhere or random hookups that you regretted the next day. One or two guys you were getting serious with but ultimately scared you off when they started talking about a family in their big picture. You were starting to get cynical about any compatible prospects.

You are only 29 and wonder if a midlife crisis before your 30’s is normal. At least, that is what it felt like was happening. You had been treading water for too long and felt like you were too tired to keep swimming.

Your mother finally wore you down enough when your lease was up at your Boston apartment and you had no real obligations. You hated your current job, your roommates were little more than acquaintances and the busy city life scene was starting to lose its charm especially when it was astronomically expensive to live there. It was getting harder to say no so you agreed to her offer.

You had to admit living in the country sounded like a nice change. You had a few months to figure stuff out and the thought of something new was exciting to you. Even if it meant continuing to endure the bitter winter, you had a chance to start fresh somewhere new. Something different.

You didn’t grow up here and spent most of your life living in suburban homes with slightly warmer climates. Your parents had bought a small one bedroom vacation home in a sleepy New England town that they mostly only enjoyed in the prime summer months. The home sat mostly vacant otherwise. They would rent it out for weeks at a time but in the winter months no one from away wanted to go there. Too far from ski resorts and civilization to be of interest to a casual vacationer. It had a lake that drew much attention from outsiders only when it wasn’t frozen. The town was reduced to just the year-round locals in the coldest months.

Your new residence was outside the main populous of Kineo and nearby the lake. In fact, you could see the lake peeking through the thick pine trees out the front window if you looked hard enough.

The closest and only neighbor in sight was the handyman your parents raved about across the street. He kept an eye on the place while they were away. You had never interacted with him on your occasional summer visits, but knew he had been kind to your folks and heard about him often enough. You occasionally saw him out in his yard from afar and he would give a lazy wave to your parents in passing. You never really got a good look at him up close but from what you could see he looked rugged and fit and always wore jeans and work boots. He had a modest waterfront cabin across the street and seemed to keep to himself.

You had arrived just a few days ago and already had a job lined up at the local coffee shop, Grind. You were getting your caffeine fix and saw a help wanted sign in their window and you had no trouble securing the job when you chatted with the owner. She hired you on the spot and seemed desperate but grateful that you actually had enthusiasm for coffee and knew your Americanos from your Lattes. Grind Coffee House was on the main drag along with some other quaint shops. It was charming enough and an easy 10 minute drive from your house. The pay was pitiful but would be enough to get by. Things seemed to be lining up perfectly.

You went to bed early that night and felt optimistic that this was going to be good for you. This was going to be the reset that you craved. A new adventure. It was like nothing you had experienced before and maybe that was exactly what you needed.

–

Shit. Your first day working at Grind and you can’t even get the car to start.

It was freezing cold. The kind of cold that hurts when it touches your exposed skin. You turn the key in the ignition again and the engine makes a pathetic attempt to turn over. Nothing. Fuck.

You turn the key again. Nothing. Fuck fuck fuck. You pull out your phone and realize you have no idea what to do other than call your new boss and make a horrible first impression. No, that wasn’t going to do. You look in the rearview mirror and see across the street that lights are on at your neighbors house, despite the early hour. As quickly as the thought crosses your mind you push it away. No. No way were you going to bother him at this hour. You hadn’t even officially met the guy yet.

You pull up Google on your phone and scan the first few results for “car won’t start” and narrow it down to engine troubles or dead battery. Either outcome is something you are not equipped to handle.

A few moments pass and you reluctantly weigh the options. Would a garage even be open this early? How long would that take to get someone out there? You were wasting time and had to do something. You curse to yourself and go back inside the house.

You walk over to the fridge where a note is hanging front and center “Joel Miller” with a phone number neatly printed. Your mothers careful handwriting to contact the poor neighbor that she probably harasses all the time. You sigh and open your phone to dial the number.

It rings a few times, and then you hear a gravelly voice that catches you off guard.

“Hello?” A deep and thick, unfamiliar accent answers. Not what you were expecting.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” a long pause and you stumble over your words. “I uh, I’m sorry to call you so early. I'm Rick and Linda’s daughter.” and mumble your name. Another pause.

“Ah, right. Whatcha need, kid?” He asks with little expression in his tone. You can’t tell if he is annoyed or just sounded that way.

“My car won’t start and I–” you pause, not too sure how to ask for help from a stranger. “I don’t know what to do...” Your voice trails off with uncertainty on how to ask for help or what you are even expecting.

You hear a long exhale on the other end, like he is letting all the air out of his lungs while he is thinking on it.

“Dead battery most likely… on a day like this. I’ll be right over.” He hangs up the phone before you can say another word and instead say thank you out loud to yourself and let your voice trail off. You instantly regret making the call.

You zip up your coat, pull your knit hat snug over your ears and head back outside when you see a black Ford pickup truck ease into your driveway. A tall man wearing a brown suede jacket approaches. The morning light is faint but you can make out that he is much older and has some silver streaking his hair and beard. He looks weathered and rugged but also has a warmness about him that is hard to reconcile with his rough exterior.

“Joel Miller, I presume?” you nervously laugh and awkwardly introduce yourself for the second time. You attempt to be extra friendly and maybe penetrate his bristly wall. It seems to help when he notices you are a young woman and not some bratty teenager that your parents probably made you out to be. He takes a step forward and reaches a hand out towards you, nodding. He firmly shakes your hand and you are taken aback by how his grasp seems to engulf you.

“Pleasure to meet you, darling.” His voice is smooth and polite and has the tiniest hint of playfulness in his tone. You can’t place his accent, but you know it isn’t from around here and only someone from away would say ‘Darling’ so casually to a stranger.

His dark brown eyes hold your gaze for a moment and he has the faintest smirk as he subtly scans your body. It sends goosebumps down your spine. You are grateful that you made an extra effort to look cute for your first day of work. You realize your hands are still embraced and nervously laugh as you pull away. He gets right down to business, but not before stealing another peek of your body when he thinks you aren’t looking.

“Lets see what we got here.'' He climbs into the driver's seat and in no time confirms it's the battery when he hears your car's engine protest. He walks over to his tailgate and brings back some jumper cables.

You stand there with your arms wrapped around your body trying to hold in as much warmth as possible. Your bare hands clenched in a fist and tucked in as far as they could in your jacket sleeve to shelter from the cold. Your teeth chattering as you try to stand out of the way but want to be nearby too. At least give the illusion you can be helpful if he needs something. You regret your first meeting being a clueless damsel in distress, but maybe he liked that sort of thing. His tune did seem to change once he saw you.

Joel returns and leans over the edge of the seat leaving the door wide open, his large palm dragging up slowly from the floor to the steering column, searching for the hood release. His finger catches on the button and he pops the hood. It’s hard not to stare at him while he slides his expert hands with reckless abandon.

His eyes find yours and the corner of his mouth raises slightly. You question if you are mistaking his caught you watching me look for more than what it was. He seems to enjoy you watching him work. He steps away from the seat and pulls a pair of work gloves from his back pocket as he works to connect your car to his truck with the jumper cables. He starts his truck back up and approaches you. Your breath and his making little frozen clouds as you exhale.

“You can sit in my truck if you want, it’s plenty warm in there.” He gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “This will just be a minute.” You thank him and take him up on his offer and climb into his passenger seat. He has a classical rock station playing on the radio. A thermos sitting in the center console. You glance in the back seat and see some neatly organized tools and miscellaneous junk on the floor. It smells metallic and leathery.

You outstretch your hands to the vents that are pouring warm air into the cabin and relish the heat.

A few moments pass and you don’t see much of what’s going on with the hood of the truck blocking your view. You doom scroll on Instagram to keep yourself busy but your mind keeps thinking about Joel. You were in no way prepared for your neighbor to be so fucking handsome. It felt absurd to be so turned on by him.

He’s too old. You tell yourself. Don’t even think about it.

Your thoughts are interrupted as the hood slams shut and Joel opens the driver's door. He reaches his arm out to grab his thermos while he climbs into the seat with a groan. The door shuts hard behind him and a blast of cold air invades your space briefly.

“Damn cold one today” He says it with a huff as more of an observation than a complaint. He takes a sip of his coffee and looks over to you. You nod in agreement and find yourself caught up in what to say to him. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in his backseat. He rests his arm along the back of the seat and it is nearly touching your shoulder. The way his body takes up the space makes you feel small and helpless. Then, you remember you are small and helpless compared to him. He doesn’t feel threatening towards you but you certainly does give off the aura that he could be intense in the right circumstance. You find that undeniably attractive.

“Your folks called me last week. Told me you were gonna be staying here a while.” His eyes are back focused on you. “Meant to come over this weekend and introduce myself.” he seems a little nervous and takes another sip of his coffee. “Didn’t wanna bother you, though.”

You feel a small smile start to grow on your face. The thought that he shared the same reservations brought comfort. Joel rests his thermos between his legs while still holding it with one hand. He looks like he is hesitating to say something but does it anyway. He looks over at you with tender eyes,

“Didn’t expect.. You know...” He makes an unreadable expression as he is searching for the words and scans your body up and down. “Someone like you.” You were not entirely sure what he meant by that, but his smoldered stare on your body made you feel hot inside and your cheeks flush. He looked at you with intrigue and it made you feel good. It made you feel wanted. It had been too long since you felt that way.

In fact, it has been too long since you had any sort of relationship. Even a casual lay.

“You really saved my ass this morning. Thank you.” You pause and feel yourself giving a sultry gaze back at him. “I owe you one.” Joel makes a no big deal gesture with his hand and a cocky smile as he chews the inside of his cheek. In that brief moment you feel something between the two of you. The desire to flirt; tempt a man with at least 20 years on you. An unexpected but undeniable magnetic pull. A curiosity to learn what lies beneath. A forbidden fruit that is ripe and beckoning for you to take a bite. Something different. Something exciting. Something you know you should stifle before it even begins.

His eyes reflect the same sentiment but also harbor concern and restraint. It’s a bad idea. The brief silence between you looms loudly. The elephant in the room.

“Where ya’ off to so early anyways?” he asks, eager to change the subject. He takes another sip of his coffee while you reply.

“Oh, first day working at Grind. You know it?” Joel's demeanor changes in a subtle way that you may not have seen if you weren’t so focused on trying to read him.

“Oh. Yeah..” he chides and looks down, pensive in thought as he brings his hand to the back of his neck and rakes it through his hair. “I know the place.” He glances back up and avoids eye contact. The bite in his voice does not go unnoticed, but you don’t pry.

An uncomfortable subject; noted.

“Better coffee than this I reckon” he says as he places his thermos back in the center console. He attempts to lighten the tone and then glances at his watch.

“I gotta get to work, sweetheart. Keep your car runnin’ for a bit and you should be all set. Probably get that battery replaced.” His tone is more serious now, more business-like. You realize you had been waiting in his truck longer than necessary. You really have to get to work anyways.

You thank him again and return to your car. He waits for you to get in and raises his fingers off his steering wheel in a lazy wave to signal he was leaving. He backs out of your driveway and heads down the road towards town.

You take a deep breath and adjust the knobs in your car. Joel had put everything on high heat and full blast for you and your car was now unbearably toasty. You tune your radio and ease into the road and on your way to work.

All the while your mind can’t stop thinking about your charming, handyman neighbor.

So that's Joel Miller. You smile to yourself and faintly feel butterflies in your stomach. Anxious thoughts that excite and frighten you.

–

It took Marlene all of five minutes to become your new work bestie. She was efficient and smart and knew her way around the place. She was the only one working when you arrived and despite the line of customers she was friendly and teased you for arriving late on your first day.

Marlene had great rapport with everyone. It was apparent that the customers were all regulars and she wasted no time introducing you to them. She had a somewhat forward style but it was well received because she knew exactly what she was doing and didn’t waste time being flowery and over the top. It reminded you of the brashness of Boston.

After the morning rush things were relatively calm. You had time to chat and get to know her a little more while she was showing you the ropes. It wasn’t complicated and you were a quick study.

By mid afternoon it was time to close up shop. The hours were a perk. You were scheduled to work weekdays from open till close and would have to occasionally help out on Saturdays. Marlene worked the same shift and the weekends were mostly covered by high schoolers.

It was just after 2 o’clock when the owner, Tess, stopped by.

“How did it go?” she asks you both as she takes a seat and rests her bag on the counter. Marlene had no intention of telling her you were late and talked you up, pleased with your presence. Tess had a few other properties she owned so her time at the coffee shop was only as needed and Marlene you learnt was more or less the one who ran things day to day.

You recap the day and thank her again for the job. You did genuinely enjoy the work. It was easy. Simple and straightforward. You got to know lots of town folk and everyone was curious and interested in meeting the new girl in town.

Tess seemed pleased enough and was quick to head out. She was friendly but brief and gave the impression she had other responsibilities that demanded her attention. She joins you behind the counter briefly and pours herself a black hot coffee in a to-go cup. Another perk of the job was indulging in all the free coffee.

“Let me know if you guys need anything!” She says energetically as she collects her bag and heads out the door. She flips the sign to “closed” as she leaves.

“Tess is cool. She doesn’t interfere too much and we only see her a few times a week, if that.” You nod to acknowledge Marlene. “Lets finish cleaning up and get out of here.”

It was nice leaving with the sun bright and warm. Winter meant shorter days, so getting out of work with a few hours of daylight felt luxurious. The bitter cold from the morning had made its departure.

You had been so focused with work it wasn’t until you got back to your car that you allowed yourself to think about Joel again. You know you shouldn’t but can’t help feeling turned on at the thought of him. He was handsome in that brooding, mysterious way and he emanated competence. It was refreshing and welcomed.

You decided to send him a text message. You had his number in your recent contacts after all and you were curious if he would play along. You were certain that there was something sparked between the two of you, but unsure if he would act on it. Unsure if there were too many obstacles between you.

You keep it simple and friendly.

You: Thanks again for your help!

Your car starts up with no issue and you head home. When you arrive you glance down to your phone to see a simple reply.

Joel: Anytime

It was brief but you couldn’t help but read it with that low, southern drawl. His voice was so distinct. Polite but stern. You add him as a contact in your phone and wonder if he did the same.

You take a shower, make some dinner and get comfortable in your bed. It’s early and you watch some TV when you hear your phone chime. You glance at your phone and see Joel Miller has you on his mind as he revives the conversation with you.

Joel: So how did it go?

You smile and recount this feeling like you were a teenager talking to your crush. You want to gush about your first day but you play it cool and brief.

You: Went good, I think I’ll like it there

A few minutes pass. Against your better judgment you start to go into details but delete it before you hit send. You recalled his strange reaction earlier when you brought up Grind. This man has you second guessing yourself and you don’t want to blow it before it even begins. He replies instead before you elaborate.

Joel: Glad to hear. Thought you would.

You: I’m exhausted though, getting to bed

You decide to be playful and see how he reacts.

You: Goodnight, Mr. Miller.

Joel: Just Joel.

Joel: Goodnight darling

Darling. Even if it was just a typical Southern phrase it made you wild. It was uncommon to hear in the north and felt so endearing and warm. The knots in your stomach return as you struggle to fall asleep. Your mind is too excited to see where things go from here. You knew he was interested in you enough to keep talking. It would have been easy for him to end the conversation there and keep things formal and neighborly.

Your mind wanders thinking about how truly handsome he is. How badly you want his manly, rough hands on your body. How his voice makes you melt. How his domineering presence makes you tingle in your core. You feel yourself starting to get wet just at the thought of his body and what you wanted to do to it. What you wanted him to do to you. Sinful thoughts.

You slide your hand between your legs and feel yourself already wet and wanting. Your delicate fingers tease circles over your clit and it doesn’t take long before you get off. You feel ashamed to be lusting over an old man you barely know, but nevertheless wish it was Joel’s rough hands on you.

You wonder if he is doing the same thing and sharing the same thoughts about you.

–

A few uneventful days go by and now it’s Friday. You haven’t seen much of Joel other than his truck occasionally driving off, but he had been stuck on your mind all week. Lonely nights accompanied by dirty thoughts of Joel that only fueled your yearning to get closer to him. Your inhibitions regarding age and disapproval of your parents were blinded by your building desire. It still weighed on you though. Your parents would be appalled and probably disown you if they knew. It would just be another tick on the disappointment list.

Work is busy and the day flies by. Just a few hours to go. You are taking a break, sitting at one of the tables by the front window and snacking on a blueberry scone. You reason with yourself that tonight is as good as any to try to make something happen.

You: You doing anything tonight?

An agonizing hour passes and no reply. Your message is on read. Marlene takes notice of your change in demeanor. When things finally slow down and its just the two of you waiting around to close up she presses you.

“So.. whats going on? You look distant.”

“Just trying to… make friends here.” You pause. “A friend in particular.” Your voice trails off. Marlene catches on quick and she had suspected you were starting to fall for someone.

“Anyone I know?” Marlene knows everyone. You don’t want her judgment on the matter so you keep it vague.

“My neighbor. He doesn’t seem the type to come to a place like this though.” Your phone chimes and you try to play down your excitement as you look down and see it’s from Joel. You can barely contain a smile.

Joel: Just got done a job. No plans

Marlene searches your face and rolls her eyes.

“Just go over then. Easy enough.” she was right.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

The rest of the shift goes by quickly and you are both out the door by 3 o’clock.

You sit in your car and decide to just call him already. You were craving to hear his voice again and you wanted to put him on the spot. He answers quickly.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Joel. I still owe you, you know for helping me out earlier.” Joel sighs in defeat.

“I see you aint lettin’ that go. What did ya have in mind?”

“Can I come over tonight? I’ll bring over drinks.” Your offer was more forward than you intended, but you went with it.

“Yeah, ok. Sounds good.” He pauses and has a counter offer for you. “Come over for dinner first?” You melt at the thought and realize you haven’t responded and there is a silence while you are getting lost in your thoughts. “Grilling steaks. Nothin’ fancy.”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You can feel your smile spilling into the phone. That sounds more than good. It sounds really fucking good.

“Alright. Come over ‘round 7.”

“Ok. See you tonight.” You end the call and take a deep breath. Your heart is beating out of your chest in excitement.

–

Getting ready for the night you attempted a relaxed look. You wanted to look nice, but approachable. You had some worn jeans that tucked neatly into your Bean boots. A button down flannel that you left undone over an intentionally low cut, fitted shirt. It accented your chest just right. You wore your hair down and went light on the makeup. You threw on a light leather jacket and grabbed the six pack of beer as you head across the street.

Joel opens the door and leans in the doorframe with a casual figure, taking you in while he bites his lip,

“Evening' sweetheart” He steps back and holds the door open for you and gestures to come in. He was definitely a gentleman. You normally are not a fan of the pet names, but he worked them into his vocabulary so smoothly it was welcomed.

You step inside and turn around, holding up the six pack of beer.

“Sam Adams. That ok?” He shuts the door and nods in approval. “Figured I’d bring some Boston culture over.” You step further inside. His kitchen is just off the main entrance and has an island with some bar stools at it. You make your way over and take a seat and rest the case on the countertop.

Your eyes scan the room. His kitchen is tidy, save the spot where he prepped the steaks. You see an empty whiskey glass. Evidence that he had at least one stiff drink before you came over. You panic a little and regret not doing the same.

“That where you lived before this?” He interrupts your thought as he stands across you at the island. His crossed forearms holding him up as he leans towards you with intrigue. He is dressed plainly in a pair of worn jeans and a plain navy blue t-shirt that hugs his arms just right. His biceps bulge as he is leaning forward and your mind is now preoccupied with just how broad his shoulders are. You almost forgot he asked you a question.

“Yeah, for a few years anyways.” You briefly recount, distracted when Joel takes a beer bottle from the case and effortlessly pops the cap with his large, calloused hands. A satisfying hiss escapes the bottle followed by a clink as the cap falls to the countertop. He slides it over to you and repeats the motion again for himself.

“Oh, wow.” you say out loud, without realizing it. Joel has that cocky side smirk again, well aware of his impressive party trick. He holds the bottle up and towards you and you do the same, clanking bottle necks together and taking a sip. Your eyes are locked on each other for a moment; trying to read each other's intentions.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna put the steaks on.” he gestures his head to the back door that leads onto the deck. He grabs his suede jacket off the back of a chair and walks towards the back entrance. You trail behind and this was the first time you really noticed just how beautiful his home was.

His open living room and kitchen had a vaulted ceiling with massive windows lining the whole back side of the cabin. It faced the lake and you could imagine how serene it would be to watch the sunrise. The cedar walls and flooring made it feel cozy and inviting. There was a large wood stove in the center of the living room and an open loft above the back of the living room. The deck seemed to wrap along a good part of the home.

“Your home is beautiful.” It had looked so much more discrete from the road; tucked behind some pines and a long driveway. The backyard was a short distance to the lake and sloped slightly down to a dock. Joel probably had a boat parked there in the summer. The cabin was perched perfectly with a breathtaking view; isolated and private from the world.

“Thank you. I built it myself. Me and my brother Tommy.”

“Thats… impressive.”

“Eh, just comes with being a contractor. Made more sense to build my own place the way I wanted.” There it was again, that feeling in your core that excites you. Joel likes to be in control, and he has the skill set to back it up making it all the more alluring.

Its a cool night, but not uncomfortably cold to be outside for a few minutes with a jacket. In fact, you are grateful to have the crisp air to help ground you and calm you down. It was embarrassing how easily Joel could work you up. You lean over the railing and gaze out over the lake while he tends to the grill for a moment and then joins you at the railing.

“I spent a few years there myself. Boston.” This was news to you, but you were still curious about his Southern accent.

“And… before?”

“Texas.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Most my life.” You smile and give a slight laugh.

“Well, that certainly explains things. You don’t exactly sound like a New Englander” you tease him. Joel laughs and looks a little distant. Something you have come to realize about Joel is that he has a lot on his mind he doesn’t say out loud. His mysterious demeanor was something you found as attractive as it was frustrating.

“You like it here so far?” He asks.

“I do. Its simple and peaceful. Life is easy here.” you realize while saying this out loud that you mean it. You really are enjoying your time in Kineo more than you ever had expected. “And… my neighbor isn’t so bad.” You tease. Joel rolls his eyes and returns to the grill, pulling the steaks off.

“Mine is a pain in the ass.” He jokes as he closes the grill. He wasn’t wrong. You were persistent if anything.

–

Dinner is laid back and enjoyable. He has a small dining room table but you choose to sit next to each other at the island drinking your Sam Adams and enjoying your ribeye steaks. Joel cooked them to perfection. You stay seated long after you are done eating, getting carried away with conversation. Your bodies are facing each other and knees knocking into his as you get animated with your storytelling.

Joel mostly listens while you ramble on. The more you drink the lower your inhibitions get. You are a lightweight to begin with and it doesn’t take much. You don’t even notice that he isn’t really listening to you anymore. His focus has left your well intended words and shifted to your body. He’s looking at your low-cut shirt teasing him. The way you brush your hair out of your face when you laugh. How your neck looks so inviting when you tilt your head back to take a sip of beer, You don’t register that he is eyeing you crudely like you are a piece of meat. That he is fighting every urge inside him to just lose himself with you.

He inches his hand along the countertop closer to yours until he is grazing your wrist with a light touch and dragging his fingers back across yours. It sends a shiver through your body as you become aware how he is looking at you and how painfully reserved his touch is. It is polite but intrusive. He watches how it makes you feel. How you start to come undone.

Your pent up feelings are starting to overwhelm you and you excuse yourself reluctantly. Your heart starts to race and you wonder if he can hear it beating.

You get up and bring your plate over to the sink to wash it. It is a distraction more than anything while you gather yourself. Joel watches you from behind for a moment. You can feel his gaze burning into you and brace yourself against the counter. You like the way it feels. The way he makes you feel wanted.

That loud silence returns. The air in the room feels heavy. He joins you at the sink and you can feel his heat envelop you as he approaches you from behind. His broad body boxes you in and makes you feel small and vulnerable.

Joel takes his hands and dances his fingers down your arms lightly. His touch starts a fire inside you and you crave a heavier hold. You need him like you need air in your lungs. He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear.

“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you.

He agonizingly slides his hands down to your hips and turns you to face him. He pushes your body gently against the countertop and moves one of his hands up to caress your face. He presses his hips into you and holds your chin gently between his thumb and finger. He stares down at you with a thirst in his eyes. He narrows his focus to try to get a reading on you. Your mouths are just inches apart. There is a hunger he is resisting but the wolf inside is slowly starting to win over reason.

“I want this, Joel.” You stare up at him and make sure he can see the desire in your eyes and that you are serious. You want to remove any hesitations he has on your account. You try to rock your hips into him but he has you pinned. He can feel your needy attempt.

“We shouldn’t…” Joel pleads, but his words are empty and not speaking the same language as his body.

Your age, your parents, your unfamiliarity with one another all should be reason enough to quelch this flame, but it just makes you want it that much more. He has wanted you since he first laid eyes on you that morning he came to your rescue. He wants to be respectful but fails, instead teasing you with how much he wants you. The hesitance is an illusion that he has kept up until that moment. Your body is trapped against his and he is looking at you like you are prey in his clutches. You had suspected and even hoped that Joel was a dominant lover with how confident he carried himself.

You seize the opportunity to show him just what he is doing to you.

You push your tongue into him and taste him; sweet and malty. His warm and wet mouth is inviting and intense. All reluctancy fades away as he gives in to you and takes control with his tongue. You can feel his cock is hard and straining against his jeans as he rocks into you. Your arms hang around his neck and tangle into his hair as you grind against each other. The friction of both your bodies sending each other into a frenzy.

He drags his mouth away, biting at your lower lip as he moves along your jawline to the soft skin at your neck. You stretch your head back giving him full access to your bare neck as he nips at you hungrily. His scruffy beard rubs roughly against your supple skin and feels so good. One hand roams up your shirt while his mouth traces lower and lower down to your collarbone. He thumbs and circles over your nipple. He can feel it harden through your bra and engulfs your breast with his large hand. His touch is brazen but you welcome it. You can feel just how badly he wants to devour you and it makes you moan.

He slides his expert hand from your breast and drags it down to your jeans. He unbuttons them hastily with force and works his hand slowly inside. Your underwear is already wet from your arousal. He pulls his mouth away from you and has a devilish grin as he grabs at your pussy and narrows his eyes on you.

“You’re so wet for me.” He says breathlessly with anticipation while he has you in his grasp.

He slides his hand inside your waistband and teases your clit as his hand slides against you. You want to reply to him but your words are trapped beneath the moans caught in your throat. He brings a finger to your opening and slowly pushes the tip inside you. The pressure from his large, calloused fingers makes you buck into him. He rubs his thumb over your clit as he slowly teases your entrance with his finger. He takes it slow and when he thinks you are ready he slips another one inside.

You can feel your walls clench around his obscenely thick fingers and he pushes deeper. Twisting and playing at your entrance and thrusting in. Your hips writhe in his grasp. While one hand is busy with your cunt the other has an iron grip on the back of your neck. His mouth messily returns to the soft skin above your collarbone and into the crook of your neck. You are completely at his mercy and can’t imagine any other place you’d want to be.

You are so tight but he stretches you open artfully. Moans escape your lips as you gasp when his fingers dip further into you, reaching that perfect part deep inside.

“Come for me.” He pants into you with a snarl as you convulse on him.

He doesn’t let up and fucks you relentlessly with his fingers until you are coming and moaning his name. Incoherent expletives escape you while you soak him.

You ride the wave of pleasure for as long as you can. It has been too long since you had fucked around with someone. However, no one had ever so masterfully gotten you off with just their fingers. The way he handled your body and worshiped you with his mouth was intoxicating.

As you come down from your high he slides his wet fingers from inside you and pulls his mouth away with a final ravenous kiss on your swollen lips. He places a kiss on top of your head and pulls you in close for an embrace. The hard protrusion against your body makes itself painfully known.

Joel presses his forehead against yours as he works to unzip his jeans and free himself. His fingers are wet with your slick. He smirks at you as his hand glides over his swollen cock and rubs your wetness all over his length. His breathing shallows as he strokes himself with one hand and braces his body on the countertop with the other. His swollen head grazes your belly with each thrust into his fist.

You watch him wantonly as he palms himself with more vigor. Joel’s cock is thick and intimidating, but you crave it in the worst way. It is by far the largest you have ever seen. It glistens in your slick and the precum that was beading at the head. A desire builds inside you and you yearn for more of Joel. Want him in your hands, your mouth, your cunt.

“Let me, please?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper. His hand slows and comes to a stop. He stretches out his arms to hold him up against the counter as he hovers above you and lets you take over.

You reach out and grab on to him. You marvel at its size and how weighty it feels in your hands as you start to rub them up and down. His skin is hot and velvety smooth and pulled tightly. Your pace is much slower but more precise. You feel the veins bulge under your grasp as your fingers glide up and down his length.

A moan hitches in his throat as you rub your thumb over his sensitive tip. You do it again and again. Teasing Joel Miller feels dangerous. You can feel how ragged he is and how close he is to coming. You want to make him come undone.

“God, damn it.” Joel grunts under his breath. He peels back your hand and painfully pulls it off of him. His cock twitches at the loss of your touch. He stands up straight and towers over you as you shrink back.

“Get on your knees.” He commands with his hand firmly on your wrist as he pulls your face closer to his. It sends a shiver through your body and you oblige. Any warmth in his eyes has been lost and he is staring at you; dark and menacing. He throws your wrist away and grips his hand along the side of your neck. His touch is rough and urgent. His fingers snake around to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer to him while you drop down. They twist into your hair and he has a hold on the back of your head. It doesn’t hurt, but his grasp is firm and might if you tried to fight it.

He takes his cock back in his grasp with his other hand and pumps it. His movements are jerky and his breathing is labored. You can tell he is so close. He roughly pulls your head back by your hair to look up at him.

“You gonna’ finish what you started?” he asks with darkened eyes. “Then open up.” He commands you through clenched teeth.

You respond with an uncontainable smirk. You part your mouth slowly and let your tongue hang out, never taking your eyes off his. You sit back onto your knees so that you are slightly under him and wait patiently. He widens his stance. His hand slides to the top of your head and tangles in your hair. You can feel him slowly starting to lose control and come undone before you while he strokes himself. You brace yourself, hooking your fingers into the back of his thighs and clawing at his jeans. You can smell his sex and feel his heat but he holds you just out of reach and makes you wait while your thirst grows.

Finally he taps the head of his weighty cock against your tongue and you lick at his slit, sending him over the edge. He groans as his thick spend coats your tongue and drips messily onto your chin. You close your mouth around him as he begins to stall out and swallow, pulling the final drops of cum from him while you choke his cock with your mouth.

“Good girl.” He rasps at you. “So fucking good.” His grip on you loosens and he tenderly drags his hand along your jawline. You relax your mouth and let him slide himself out. He groans when your tongue licks the underside of him as he pulls out.

He thumbs over some of his mess that falls out of your mouth and curls his thumb over your bottom lip. You lick him clean and he moves to hold your face in his hands while you look up at him.

“My good girl.” His words shoot straight to your core and make you weak. He brushes your hair behind your ear and helps you up. He places another kiss on your head and wraps his arms around you. His hot and heavy body feels so good against yours. You tilt your head up and press your mouth into him one more time.

“Are we even now?” you joke. Joel smiles. Everything about him feels warmer. He peels himself away from you and steps back, leaning against the island. You adjust your clothes and zip yourself back up while he does the same.

“Actually… think I might owe you now.” Joel says with a playful tone. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and shakes his head at you like he can’t believe his predicament. You like the idea of Joel owing you.

–

You don’t spend the night. He offers to walk you home but you opt to go alone. It felt good to get some fresh air, to clear your head and recap the night. You also wanted to leave him wanting more.

You weren’t sure what would come from this situation with Joel, but you knew you barely scratched the surface with him. He was rough around the edges but you liked that about him. You liked that a lot.

END CHAPTER

(Part 2!)

A/N: More to come! Undecided how many chapters but I have quite a bit mapped out. Please be kind. This is my first fic and it is nerve wrecking to post! If you loved it, PLEASE let me know. I'd love to know your thoughts so far! What did you like? What do you want more of? How much angst can your heart take? I aim to test it in future chapters. Comments/Reblogs are appreciated so much. Thank you all

Also special thanks to @magpiepills for the lovely cover photo (and her mood board inspirations she helped with along the way!) and to both her and @legendary-pink-dot for reading my first draft and giving their feedback AND courage to post this.

If you wish to know when I post the next chapter, please follow @ArcaneFoxFics and turn on notifications!

If you are here for my gifs only and are like WTF I dont want to see this mature content... you can follow me over at @ArcaneFoxGifs which will ONLY be reposts of my gif sets.

Love to my friends who give me the courage and support to do all the things @magpiepillsjunior @legendary-pink-dot @exquisiteserotonin @youandmeand5bucks @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #the wolf you feed #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #New England Joel #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel miller series #fic: the wolf you feed #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfic

451 notes · View notes

0kayblue · 1 year

Text

Domestic Cravings

Leon comes home early from a mission and stays determined not to wake you by going to his apartment instead of yours. When greeted with a more than pleasant surprise he’s unable to stop himself from asking the big question.

Main Character Relations: Leon Kennedy x reader (romantic)

Word Count: 2k (a little over)

Fluff, fluff, fluff !!!

A/N: Sometimes I don’t write angst. Sometimes. Anyway, I guess you could consider this a Valentine's Day present. Personally, I hate the holiday, but I do love to treat others. Enjoy!

Leon sighed, the weight of his most recent mission weighing heavily on his shoulders. All things considered things went smoothly and everything wrapped up into a nice little bow earlier than expected. He was scheduled to be there for the next two days, but he ran into one of those rare circumstances where he made it back early.

As he looked at the door handle to his front door he seriously debated his most recent plan to retreat to the solitude of his own apartment. This isn’t where he wanted to be. He wanted to experience the warmth of your doorway. He wanted to crawl into your bed and find comfort in your embrace. But it was so late and the sun basically just set and you had to have been asleep. Not to mention he’d probably be throwing a wrench in your plans for the next day and the last thing he wanted was to be seen as a burden.

So, selflessly Leon opened the front door. The apartment was cold as he disregarded his heavy duffel bag to the side. He shut and locked the door behind him as he kicked off his boots, too tired to be bothered to put them away just then. He ran his hand down his face as he sauntered into the kitchen. Exhaustion felt like an understatement, as his limbs felt heavy as he headed towards the fridge. The bright light caused him to squint as he was greeted to the sight of a fully stocked fridge. He smiled knowing that you had already started taking care of the little things for him. He grabbed the carton of orange juice before shutting the door.

It really only made things harder as he set the carton on the kitchen island as he grabbed a glass. He had a key and he was always more than welcome, he lived there just as much as he lived here, if not more so. You have been dating for a year and had gotten the big three words out and expressed your love whenever and wherever it came about. Rather it be just an exchange of the sentiment via words or actions, he knew you loved him. He knew that you truly, deeply, genuinely loved him. You saw the good and the bad and still adored him. He couldn’t make any sense of it, but humans are creatures who are always harsher on themselves than on others.

Your apartment always felt so homey and inviting, granted that could have just been because it was considerably smaller, but he digresses. He spent more time there than he did in the luxury suite that was located on the finer side of town. Big tall windows that allowed natural light in easily, a view of the city that ‘justified’ the rent prices. In all honesty he only chose to live here due to the fact that it was so close to the office. Even though he wondered why he even bothered being close to the office when he woke up in your bed most days anyway.

Pouring his drink he started to really consider why you still remained in two separate housing units. Truth be told he never asked you to move in. He supposed you could’ve asked, but it wasn’t in your nature. You weren’t one to ask someone to pack up their life and throw everything away to be with you. He would in a heartbeat, there wouldn’t be a second thought about it; but it all goes back to people being harsher on themselves than other people. That and the fact that his work played a big factor in everything that Leon does. He was constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Finishing his drink with huge gulps he was unsure if you were even willing to give your place up. It was your first apartment and the rent wasn’t too bad- all things considered- your landlord was tolerable and neighbors were friendly enough. The walls were paper thin and the unit needed a multitude of repairs. Long story short, the place was old, Leon has had a number of things redone there; in fact the first thing he did was replace the locks. He was trying to talk you into a whole security system, but you shut him down. Having to deal with your landlord over the locks was a hassle on its own, you didn’t want to bother trying to reason with him over a high tech military grade security system.

Your safety and wellbeing was on the top of Leon’s list and he used it in his arguments. But you just rolled your eyes and pointed out that he doesn’t even use his own security system. The thing did nothing but collect dust by the front door. It was your main argument and it stood firm, you told him that once he started using his own you would think about going toe to toe with your landlord over it, but until then his argument was null and void.

He countered though with the fact that his apartment didn’t hold anything valuable. Sure, it had monetary value out the ass; but anything he had that was worth anything could be perceived as trash to the naked eye. A box full of movie tickets, cards, postcards, and blurry photos was not worth a dime. The memories that the items held were priceless, but they wouldn’t do a thing for anyone else.

As he went to turn on the sink he noticed the dishwasher light was on, signaling that the dishwasher had finished its job. A crooked little smirk pulled on his face, not only did you go grocery shopping but you took care of the dishes. How lucky could he possibly be? A sense of a domestic life that he craved washing over him. It was time, he wanted you here, or he could stay there, it really didn’t matter. Either place would be home as long you were there.

Turning off the sink he heard the floor creek. He set the glass in the sink slowly as he reached for Matilda that rested in his waistband. He was careful, he was sure he wasn’t followed, whoever was here had been here. His brain immediately went to you; second guessing having you move in. He moved quickly facing the hall, his arms outstretched and his finger on the trigger, “You’ve got three seconds.” He threatened and as he heard your deep sigh of relief he softened, setting the gun on the counter. You stepped into his line of vision as he flicked on the kitchen light, “(Y/N)?” He called out your name as he watched you shake slightly. The gap between the two of you was closed quickly as he pulled you to his chest with relief.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You said setting the gun you had down on the nearby couch end table. Wrapping your arms around him you scolded him, “You got off early and you didn’t call me?”

“I scared you? You scared me.” He defended light heartly, “I didn’t want to wake you. It’s nearly three in the morning, baby.” He pulled away from you as he tucked your hair behind your ear. His lips found yours in a gentle kiss that he deepened as you hummed against him.

“Did a great job at letting me sleep then, dear.” You teased him as you pulled away from him. You brushed his hair out of his eyes, examining the bags and purple hue underneath them.

“How was I supposed to know you were here?” He defended as your thumb ghosted over his cheekbone and you turned bright red. A sense of victory on his face as a wide smile found his features.

“I just started the dishes and I didn’t want to fight traffic home-…” you peered into an ocean of blue before sighing, “I missed you. I sleep here when I miss you. I sleep here a lot.” You confessed before looking away from him, it was slightly embarrassing for you to admit. You had difficulty expressing that you craved a person. It didn’t make any sense with how open you were about him, but you just chalked it up to your miss independent complex. He just hummed in satisfaction as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. His body relaxed as he kissed your neck with a sense of glee. He went from missing you, to worrying about you, to the joy of knowing that you were within arms reach in a matter of seconds.

“I missed you more.” He cooed as he kissed your neck, “Glad you’re here.”

“I love you.” The words fell from your lips so gently and lovingly that his grip on you tightened and you giggled slightly. He made you feel like a teenage girl that was too head over heels for her own good. “Let’s get you to bed. Shower?”

“Please.” Your hands found his hands and gently pulled him down the hall and into his room. He noted his side of the bed was the one that you were just resting on; a sense of warmth washing over him. He squeezed your hand gently as you led him into the bathroom. As you let go of him you turned on the shower. He couldn’t help the smile on his face as he looked around and noticed your shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, lotions, and other toiletries littered in his bathroom.

You approached him and helped him pull off his shirt, you looked him over. A deep sigh falling from your lips as your heart ached at the sight of bruises and cuts. It hurt to see and you could only imagine the pain he felt.

“It’s okay, I’m fine. Promise.”

“This the best they could do to patch you up?”

“Down, tiger.” He teased as he soaked up your possessive tone.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the shower, pulling off your shirt before putting your palm under the running water. You pulled your pajama shorts off and as you turned to face him a sense of nervousness shot up your spine. You usually would tease him about a staring problem, but you were unsure of where his emotions were. Physically he looked exhausted- his movements told you he was exhausted- but mentally you had no idea where he stood.

Not to mention that you had no clue how he felt about you staying here when he wasn’t here. Sure, he said he was glad you were here, but he never asked you to be here.

“The water is going to get cold if you just keep staring. C’mon.” You nodded to the shower as you undid his pants. His hands found yours, stopping you, as he took care of the rest and disregarded them in the hamper. You tried to place what he was thinking as you climbed into the shower, him not far behind you.

As the warm water hit his back he let out a sigh of relief. The sound music to your ears as you started messing with his shampoo. You went to work the shampoo in his hair and through half lidded eyes he watched you. A little smile on your face while your tired eyes focused on what you were doing.

He could get used to this, he was getting used to it.

He loved you. He loved seeing your things in his space, he loved that you were taking care of him, he loved that you were here.

You tilted his head gently and started rinsing the shampoo out. A protest never fell from his lips as you scratched his scalp and he moaned softly. You reached for his conditioner and did the same thing, just letting the conditioner sit while scrubbing him down with his signature fresh pine scented shower gel.

You worshiped him as you bathed him, kissing the cuts and bruises softly as you rinsed him off. He deserved to be taken care of like this and you didn’t mind being the one to do it. It was slightly embarrassing, but he trusted you with his life and you knew his body just as he knew yours. “Relax.” You cooed as you went to get out of the shower, “Stay in here as long as you’d like. I’m going to get you-.” You stopped as he grabbed your wrist and his other hand found your hip. You gave him a concerned look as you scanned his face, you stepped closer to him as he pulled you to his chest. Your fingers tangled themselves into his hair as you tried to soothe him. “Want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.” He rested his head against your shoulder, “Just want you.” He’s wanted you since he got back, he’s wanted you since he left. You nodded as you held him against you.

You both stood there until the water started to run cold. It took some convincing but eventually you got him out and in pajamas. You were in bed wearing one of his t-shirts that he practically had to fight you over wearing. Your eyes shut as you listened to his movements in the bathroom, refusing sleep. Waiting for him.

As Leon turned off the faucet he took a good look in the mirror. A face that had a smile plastered on it as he thought about the woman in his bed. The woman who just doted on him like he was made of glass. The woman who held him so close and made him feel so loved that it all felt worth it. The woman that he wanted to take his last name.

He left the bathroom and stood in the doorway as the bathroom light illuminated you just enough to where he could watch your chest rise and fall. As your eyes opened he was held captive as you smiled.

“What?” You asked through a yawn as you pulled the covers up to your shoulders while you stretched.

“I love you.” He beamed as he turned off the bathroom light and climbed into his side of the bed. Your scent flying off of the fabric of his sheets as the radiant warmth of your presence drew him in. Wrapping his arm around your torso he pulled you to him.

“I love you more.” Your voice heavy with sleep as you cuddled against his chest. He adored these moments where you didn’t fight with your words and just said what you were feeling.

He chuckled, “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead as you yawned. “Go to sleep.” He cooed as he rubbed a hand firmly up and down your back.

“Leon…?” You muttered against his chest.

“Yes, baby?”

“I’m sorry if you didn’t want me here while you’re not here. I won’t do it again.” He raised an eyebrow at the apologetic sorrow in your tone. He knew your past, he knew your uncertainty, but he could’ve sworn that he told you he was glad you were here. “I just missed you and if I crossed a line-.”

“Hey, hey.” He shushed you, “I’m glad you're here, remember? I want you here. Forever and always. Okay?” You nodded and tried not to sniffle.

“Okay.” You fisted the hem of his shirt as you tried to keep yourself calm against him. He kissed your forehead before petting your hair. Your eyes were shut and your breathing was starting to slow to the pace that it does when you sleep.

He knew he should wait, but he was too excited.

“Baby?” He looked down at you as you hummed in response telling him to go ahead with his question. That you were still listening and ready to talk about whatever he needed. His thumb brushed against your cheek as he admired you, “Will you marry me?”

Your tired eyes opened, “What?” You were in a state of disbelief.

He asked again, “Marry me?” Silence fell over the room as the cold chill of uncertainty worked its way through his blood stream. What was he thinking? Was he thinking? You didn’t even live with him and you’d been together for only a year. Wasn’t the next step just to ask you to move in? That was the logical question. Was it too late to rephrase the question? Could he save this somehow?

“Yes.” You answered honestly, “Yes, I’ll marry you.” He let out a deep breath of relief before his lips found yours. His kiss was deep and passionate as he adjusted himself to be level with you. You welcomed him as you melted against him. Exchanging passion and overwhelming love within each kiss. Each parting one leaves a lasting imprint against your souls.

He regretfully parted from you to get a good look at you. To judge based on what he knew if this was truly something you wanted. Your bright smile causes him to let out a chuckle of relief before leaning his forehead against yours. You laughed alongside him as your hand intertwined with his, “I love you, Mrs. Kennedy.” He said he ran his hand through your hair. It fell so naturally from his lips that you could’ve sworn that it had always been your last name.

“I haven’t signed any papers yet.” You joked before peppering a couple kisses on his cheek, “Don’t even have a ring yet.”

He rolled his eyes before his lips captured yours, “It’s in the closet.” He mumbled as he held your face against his.

“Mhm.” You moaned against his lips, even though you didn’t believe him. He was telling you the truth, hidden in his safe was a little black velvet box that held the engagement ring he picked out six months ago.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfic #Resident evil fan fiction #Romance #writing romance #fluff #No real reason #No real plot #Leon just loves you a lot #hayley writes a bit #I am still considering the what if thing #I guess I really need to make a master list #Maybe later #happy Valentine’s Day #enjoy!

2K notes · View notes

xmalereader · 4 months

Text

Five Hargreeves x Chef! Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

SUMMARY: After the events of TUA S3, Fives is left without his powers and can finally try to have a normal life without relying on his abilities. Trapped in a his teenage body at the age of fifty he can finally retire at a nice little town, getting himself a job as a waiter in the towns famous ‘Daybreak Diner’ where he befriends the owner and chef of the place. Not only that, but Fives has competition with the bakery across the street.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Pure fluff, mature language, crossovers between characters, and bakery verse, reader is a chef and an adult, fives is around 15-16 years old, platonic parent, found family, fives and Alex are enemies to lovers, mentions of Simon Riley and his baker husband, cooking, fives hates customers, love sick teenagers.

WC: 1.5K

NOTES: Hello everyone! It’s a new year, meaning new format and new characters and ideas! I’ve actually been thinking about this idea for awhile now and decided to create my own little baker or cooking verse between one of my favorite series of Simon Riley and perhaps a new one starting with Five Hargreeves! Please, feel free to leave some feedback and if you wish to read some more of this cooking verse then I’ll be more than happy to make more!

Daybreaks Diner was a simple restaurant that served grilled and raw sea food dishes. It was one of the popular places in town that many people went to eat after leaving work either to relax with some alcohol in their system or perhaps a nice shrimp cocktail that many people enjoyed. The place had only been standing for a few years, owned by one single person who did all of the cooking and cleaning before and after closing for the day, everyone in town knew who the chef was and how passionate he is when it comes towards his menu and various food choices.

Some would say that he was in competition with the bakery across the street due to both owners always getting caught conversing with each other, only for the rumor to be shut down after it became clear the the two were simply friends and helped each other out when it comes towards new ideas for their own places.

It wasn’t until their time together slowly decreased going from days to only a few hours. Only to find out that his good friend had recently found someone that helped him in the bakery which later resulted in them getting married and getting the family he always wanted and keeping himself busy in the bakery. The two still talked, but they were both moving on with their lives and busy with their own dreams.

It wasn’t until a year later that he hired a sixteen year old teenager to work in his diner. He was hesitant about the kid at first only to find out that he no place nor a job and was easily persuaded into hiring the kid and evening letting the kid rent out his extra room upstairs. It took some adjusting for him, waking up in the mornings to find the teenager with messy bed hair and drinking black coffee on the small table that he had in his dining room, silent as always only to get a bit chatty when the two head downstairs to prep for the day.

The other strange thing that he hasn’t gotten used to yet was the kids name, Fives.

Did this kids parents hate him so much that they gave him a number for a name?

Fives never spoke about his past nor about his family and kept to himself. That wasn’t until he caught the kid having a nightmare late one night, jolting him awake when hearing the kids scream which caused him to spend the night sleeping on the floor after the kid asked him to stay with him even though his words sounded forced as if he didn’t want him there at all. Y/n didn’t know shit about kids nor did he consider himself a parent since he’s been alone for majority of his adult life to the point where his main focus became his restaurant and now this kid too.

After having Fives live with him for almost six months now, the teenager had grown on him and enjoyed his presence even though the kid himself can be a little sarcastic bastard whenever they were alone.

It was the weekend and the restaurant usually opens late, giving Y/n the time to get everything prepped without any problems as he stood on the other side of the counter, cutting up various vegetables while glancing over to Five who had his face pressed against the glass window, staring across the street with a frown on his face.

“If you keep staring they’ll notice.” He speaks up but Fives doesn’t budge from his spot, glaring down at Alex from across the street at the other teenager worked on writing out todays specials for his fathers bakery. “He thinks some piece of bread with white crap on top is better than my specials?” Fives hissed out, earning an eye roll from Y/n.

When Y/n first introduced Fives to his friend he expected his friends son, Alex to get along only to get the total opposite. Fives loathed the guy and Alex felt the same way towards him. Their hatred started over who’s food was better either the bakery or the diner and neither saw eye to eye and the boys always turned everything into a competition.

“There chocolate filled croissants are good—“

Fives whips his head to glare at Y/n when hearing his comment. He can’t help but laugh at his expression and shake his head, he used to find the kid so intimidating at times and now his looks never phase him anymore. “You two are always fighting.” He mumbled to himself and focused on the fish next and moves around the counter and placed the different ingredients out in order to get lunch ready.

“Come on Fives, clean the tables and set down the chairs the lunch rush is gonna hit soon.” He orders the kid around who does as he’s told, walking around the counter to put on his own apron and tying it around his waist and grabbing a table cloth. It became a regular routine for the two, Y/n prepping the food while Fives cleans the place and gets the tables set for any customer that are to come even though Fives was the only waiter he did the work fast and wasn’t afraid of taking back to customers who talked badly about the food or complained about the smallest things, remembering him threatening a family who couldn’t control their kids running around the place and ruining other people’s nights.

Fives didn’t hesitate to approach the table, slamming the bill on their counter while giving them a wide grin. “If you don’t control your kids I am more than happy to do it for you and believe me it ain’t gonna be a pretty sight.” The parents thought he was joking around and laughed at Fives words only for Y/n to wince at the couples response, knowing damn well that he wasn’t joking.

Fives sighed through his nose before slamming his hand on the table, startling not just the couple but the other customers around them while speaking out loud to them. “Listen here ass, I have spent the last five minutes dealing with your kids running around this place while serving food to everyone else and I am caring around hot and cold plates and if one of your kids bumps into me and gets that food on them, do not complain about your little mistake getting burned.”

Safe to say the parents listened to him and were able to control their kids.

Y/n relied on Fives with situations like that which rarely happened after that day, no one wanted to deal with the teens wrath.

As the two got ready, Fives was the one to turn on the ‘open’ sign on and step outside to wipe down the windows, using a rag to wipe them clean only to stop when he noticed Alex approaching him, making him glare as he focused on his task.

“I’d ask what you’re up to Fives, but then it occurred to me. I don’t care.” Said Alex while entering the resturant, leaving Fives outside who glared at Alex when entering the place, getting Y/n’s attention from over the counter and smiling at the other teen. “Alex! The usual today?” He questions as he began to get the food ready as Alex sits at the bar.

“The usual for dad and for Simon he actually wanted to try one of your specials.” Alex points towards the menu behind Y/n and let him know that Simon wishes to try the third special on the menu.

Y/n works on getting the food ready. “Why do you call him Simon? Why not dad too?” He knows that his friend and his husband have been married for awhile which lead up to Simon finally adopting Alex as his own kid too. “I guess I’m used to it yet?” Alex shrugs his shoulders while leaning his elbows on the counter top and reaching over to steal one of the juice boxes only to get his hand smacked with a towel making him yelp in surprise.

“Hey, thats for customers only.” Fives cuts in, tossing his dirty towel into the sink while Alex grumbled. “I’m a valuable customer here.”

“To me you ain’t, so if you want the juice box you gotta pay.” The two boys glare at each other and Y/n is quick to cut the tension between the two. “Alright that’s enough you two.” He sets a bag of food in front of Alex, “Here you go, also tell your dad to send me some those specials too.”

“I will,” Alex responds while taking the bag with him, shooting Fives a smirk when Y/n slips the juice box in the bag which makes Fives groan as the two watch him leave the restaurant. It was normal for both owners to try each others specials without charge due to them being close friends after so many years together.

Y/n watched Alex, making sure that he got back to the bakery without any accidents, sighing in relief once the teen makes it inside only to turn around to face Fives who had his arms crossed over his chest while frowning. “Do you want me to kill him?”

#male reader #five Hargreeves x male reader #five Hargreeves x chef male reader #bakery verse #Simon Riley x male reader #bakery au series #chef au series #ghost x male reader #crossover #au #cooking au

151 notes · View notes

sluttyten · 9 months

Text

You In My Arms

Chapter 3: Temptation

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: haechan knows that watching is wrong, but he can't help it when he just stumbles upon it happening right in front of his eyes. and it happens a lot.

length: 12,691

tags: semi-public sex, voyeurism, gay sex, mentions of bisexuality, threesome, slowburn, friends to lovers, masturbation, general perversion, smut

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

Haechan spends the entirety of his winter break working.

There are plenty of shifts to pick up at the fancy restaurant in town where he works. Plenty of the other waiters are college kids, gone home for the break, and Haechan has nowhere better to be than right here, raking in the tips from rich schmucks who already have a couple hundred dollars to drop on dinner and wine.

Also, he’s trying to avoid thinking about Shotaro and his girlfriend, about that night when they were camping, about how they’re now happily in love off in Japan for the break.

He’s avoiding thinking about how in a few short months he’s going to be graduating and moving on to life out in the big real world. No more college, no more classes, and no more gathering together for homework and parties. They’re going to move away, and live on their own.

That’s one thing that has Haechan stressed.

Another reason for him to pick up extra shifts at the restaurant is that his roommate finally had enough of him, blowing up on Haechan there during finals week. He’d told him that he wasn’t allowed to come back to the dorm after break unless he’d gotten his masturbation addiction figured out.

That wasn’t really an option, in Haechan’s opinion, so this break he was working to be able to afford the nice off-campus apartment he’d moved into.

Luckily, YangYang also needed a new place to live because his former roommate’s partner had basically moved into their place, and YangYang refused to be a third wheel all the time.

Haechan couldn’t agree more, knowing who YangYang’s former roommate was and how disgustingly mushy in love they were. But, on the other hand, Haechan had come to the realization that being a third wheel wasn’t always the worst thing.

Sometimes he still thought of that night at the cabin beside the lake. The hot tub, the sight and sound of Shotaro and his girlfriend tangled together in the hot tub. He wondered if they thought about it too sometimes. He never dared ask, never dared hope that maybe they’d enjoyed it enough that he could score another invitation to watch. In the past nearly two months, they hadn’t talked about it in more than whispered teases the couple directed at him when they caught him staring.

But Haechan was over her now. He’d decided that, anyway.

He’d tried several remedies. More jerking off. Hooking up with plenty of girls, a handful of guys, and even a few attempts (both successful and unsuccessful) at threesomes. Deep down – well, not even that deep down honestly – Haechan knew that what he’d enjoyed so much about that night had been the watching, the indecency, the pervertedness of his actions that night. He liked to watch. He couldn’t deny that.

He’d tried it again. The watching thing.

During Halloween, one of the departments threw a big Halloween party on campus, and since Haechan had several friends in the department, he went ahead and invited himself to attend. His main hope was to leave that night with someone, and when one of Mark and Renjun’s friends in the department arrived, Haechan knew it would be her.

She was dressed like a slutty school girl and Haechan was down for doling out a little punishment. They’d already hooked up in the past, during one of those nights when Haechan crashed on the couch at Mark’s rented house. She’d stayed over too, and since they were both there and both fought over who would get the comfortable sofa, they’d decided to share it. She rode him on that sofa and nearly smothered him with her tits, but he liked it. Just like that night at the Halloween party, he liked the sight of her in a tiny skirt and a barely-there top.

He plucked at one of her pigtail braids and told her he would love to punish her. He was dressed as a police officer for the night, and he was looking forward to getting to use the super cheap costume handcuffs on someone tonight, but she just laughed at him, flicked him on the forehead and called him “kid.” Yeah, she was older than the rest of them, but not by much.

Still Haechan knew that he had a decent chance of being able to leave with her. Odds were she was on the prowl to have sex too, and he knew if she didn’t find anyone else she’d come crawling right to him. But, she was his backup plan too, considering she’d shot him down so quickly, so he looked through the massive party on the lawn for someone else who caught his eye.

Unfortunately, in doing so, he’d reminded himself of the voyeuristic pleasure he’d drawn just about two weeks earlier at the cabin. As soon as he spotted a couple making out at one of the bonfires that lined the edge of the lawn due to some superstitious tradition of warding off spirits or something, Haechan lingered to watch the couple. Beneath the masks and costumes, he had no clue who it could be, and that heightened the thrill a bit, until they broke apart, one of them noticed him sitting nearby, and they left.

Haechan moved on to the next fire, prowling among the shadows just outside their bright glows. He knew this party was notorious for people hooking up, even though it’s a university-sanctioned event. He remembered last year Renjun telling him excitedly about the girl dressed like a fairy that had pulled him away from the bonfires, to the trees lining the lawn, and she’d let him fuck her against a tree. That’s the kind of energy Haechan was looking for that night.

He watched from the shadows as a girl climbed into another girl’s lap beside one of the bonfires, but their faces were hidden behind the long, smooth curtain of her hair. He watched a girl dressed like a nurse drag a doctor and a vampire over into the shadows of one of the trees lining the lawn, and Haechan paused just long enough to watch her lift her skirt and guide the doctor’s hand between her legs while the vampire moved in to kiss the nurse. He considered staying until, but the vampire backed off, saying something about not being able to go through with this. Haechan decided to go look for something more interesting.

As Haechan neared the far end of the lawn, about as far from the main party as he can get, he spotted a familiar figure.

A school girl shivering slightly and cozying up to a police officer.

He should have walked away.

He could see that his backup plan was being thrown out the window right in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t help it that jealousy flared deep in his chest. How was this guy that’s dressed basically the same as Haechan any better? Why had she chosen that police officer instead of him?

Haechan stayed to watch, curious as she kissed the officer. He couldn’t see the man’s face, not from where he stood.

Haechan watched as the kiss grew more intense, and he let his hand drift to his pants. He’d not gotten hard yet, but he could feel the urge growing in his belly.

Obviously, he knew it was wrong and perverted, that he could probably somehow be marked down in some database if he was ever caught watching someone without an invitation. But he stayed, he watched them until finally she glanced sideways, and spotted him shadowed against the bonfire just a couple fires away from them.

She took off, and Haechan watched the other officer stand there, dumbstruck.

Haechan waited until she’d vanished into the night, back towards the rest of the party, and that’s when he looped around a bonfire, and decided to approach the other officer.

“Evening, Officer,” he said, keeping his voice lighthearted as he approached.

The other man jumped and looked at him, and as Haechan stood just feet away, he realized he knew this man. Not a student, but a professor.

He was a young professor, Haechan knew that, though he’s never taken any classes taught by him. She is a naughty schoolgirl if she’s fucking a professor. Professor Henry or Hendery or something like that.

The professor looked Haechan up and down. “Shouldn’t you be enjoying the party?”

Haechan just grinned and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Oh, sir, believe me. I am enjoying it.” He stepped around the professor, and began walking back towards the heart of the party, whistling as he walked away.

He tried to follow just to see where she was going, but he was pretty sure she’d disappeared into the school building that was open to use the bathrooms. Just to be sure, he checked around the nearby bonfires, and then, just as he was about to fully give up, he spotted someone sitting in the shadows beside the building. He couldn’t see much, just long bare legs, a short skirt.

But when she stood up, he realizes it wasn’t the naughty schoolgirl he was looking for. He paused, about to turn on his heel and walk away, until he realized he might recognize her.

In the couple of weeks since their camping trip, he hadn’t seen too much of the girl who had shared his bed, but there she stood, dressed in a tiny white slip of a dress, a crooked halo hovering above her head on a wire.

She squinted at him as he approached, and after a moment her expression cleared. “Haechan?”

Her voice rang through the night, drawing a smile to his lips. “Yes, angel?”

He watched as she lowered her gaze, as her hands flitted over her dress. She looked nervous and a little pale. He couldn’t help wondering what she was doing over there all alone, so he asked.

“Nothing.” She shook her head, still not looking up at him as her fingers ran along the short hem of her little white dress. “I just needed a moment to breathe.”

Something cold trickled through Haechan’s belly.

She was alone in the dark on the side of the building. She wouldn’t look at him. She was acting so fidgety. Haechan could feel his amusement fading as concern rushed cold through his veins, a protective feeling coming over him. Had something happened to her? He knew the kind of bullshit that can happen to women at parties even on campus, and if anyone laid a hand on her….

“Are you alright?” Haechan asked cautiously, carefully.

Her eyes lifted to his at last. “I’m fine.”

Should he believe her?

“I promise,” she said, straightening up and setting her shoulders. She rolled her eyes a little, then said, “Xiaojun asked me to come with him tonight and I think he’s thinking of this more as a date than just us casually hanging out. I needed a little space from him.”

Ah. Xiaojun.

Haechan had noticed on the last night of the camping trip that she’d clung to Xiaojun and slid into bed with him instead of choosing to return to Haechan’s room. He hadn’t thought too much of it at the time, but standing there in the dark on that Halloween night, Haechan realized that maybe there was more to it than he’d first thought. That cool weight settled in his belly.

He looked at her. At the short dress, the halo, at all the starlight sparkles that shimmered on her skin. She looked the perfect vision of an angel, and when Haechan thought about it, he remembered spotting Xiaojun briefly earlier dressed as a devil.

They’d come in a couple costume.

Honestly, she’s too good for Xiaojun, Haechan thought. That night she looked perfect and innocent, pretty and sexy with a blush high in her cheeks at the moment. And Xiaojun really just… was nowhere around. Haechan turned to look back over the lawn, to see if he could spot the devil anywhere. Instead, he caught sight of the other police officer – Professor Hendery – making his way across the lawn. Haechan’s mind returned to his previous objective.

He snapped his attention back to the angel before him, a grin growing as he said, “Well, I’m looking for a naughty schoolgirl. Have you seen one come by here?”

She clearly found his search for the schoolgirl to be ridiculous, questioning him about it and then rolling her eyes at him. Haechan just laughed, as she skirted around him to go rejoin the party at last. He turned to follow right behind her, hoping that maybe he’d catch up to Hendery, be able to figure out where their schoolgirl had gone. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to get to actually watch her and the professor.

But before he and the angel made it more than a few steps, he noticed the dirt covering the pure white ass of her dress.

He reached for her wrist to stop her. “What were you doing over there, little angel? Your ass is covered in dirt.” It’s dry dirt, just a dusting really. She looked hopelessly down at it though, and Haechan offered to help her out.

She nodded, and Haechan instinctively reached out to pat her ass. Some of the dust came off in a little puff, but it took a few more pats, and Haechan could feel the soft swell of her ass beneath his hand, the way that her ass jiggled slightly with each time his hand came down. A little flame of heat spiked in his belly, and he imagined just bringing his hand down a little harder, a little spank for the angel.

But then her skirt was as clean as it was going to get, and Haechan pulled his hand back to his side as he stepped around her, holding himself back from following through on his desires.

She looked up at him, still blushing, her eyes bright, her halo crooked.

Haechan fixed the crooked halo for her, and he laid his hand on her hair. Still she was gazing up at him with this doe-eyed look. Something inside of him softened, melting, and the words just came out without much thought as he said, “You make a good angel. Perfect and innocent as you are.”

She bristled slightly, to his surprise, quickly saying, “I’m not innocent!”

Sure, if that’s what she wanted to argue. He’d laughed, patted her hair. Haechan had never heard any wild stories about her. Sure, he knew that she’s no virgin. He knew that she and Mark briefly had a thing a few years ago, and then there’s the thing she had going on with Xiaojun. But all of their friends seem to know everything about each other’s sex lives, and Haechan never heard anything about hers. She was probably perfectly sweet and vanilla; she would be disgusted if she only knew what a pervert he was.

On that thought, he turned and walked away.

She wouldn’t be friends with him anymore if she knew that he was a voyeur, that he jerked off to their friends, that he’d gotten hard just from smelling her shampoo or whatever on the pillow after that night she slept in his bed.

After he left her, he tried looking inside the building, but couldn’t spot the professor of the schoolgirl, and he didn’t know where Hendery’s office was. He wasn’t just going to wander around aimlessly inside the building, so he gave up. He failed.

Something like an hour later, the object of his lust tonight reappeared. The schoolgirl looked too pleased, with a little bounce in her step that hadn’t been there before. She’d folded herself down to sit beside the rest of them while they watched the horror movie being projected on a big inflatable screen. She’d draped her jacket over her legs, and when she caught Haechan looking at her, she’d just raised her eyebrows.

“What?” She’d asked.

Haechan shrugged, a little smug, then said, “Oh, nothing. Just every naughty school girl needs a naughty professor. Have you gotten that punishment yet, bad girl?”

That time she actually flicked him quite hard on the forehead. “Keep it up, kid, and you’ll be the one getting punishment.”

That had sent Renjun, who overheard all of it, into hysterics.

Haechan had still gone home with her that night. He didn’t care if he was getting the sloppy seconds of that professor. She didn’t seem to care that she’d fucked the professor and then took him home to fuck him. Haechan didn’t admit to her that he’d been watching them, that he’d tried to find her to keep watching.

He’d wanted to watch.

It was something he wanted all the time now.

When he looked up videos, too often it was voyeur videos.

But in reality, outside of his masturbation habits and that night of the Halloween party, he knew that voyeurism was more likely to get him arrested. Therefore, since that night, Haechan had tried to stick with the basics except for those few threesomes, which had almost been enough to satisfy Haechan’s growing voyeuristic urge.

It was different though, and he knew it.

So, long story short, while Haechan understood that YangYang was only eagerly agreeing to be his roommate because he didn’t want to be a third wheel all the time, Haechan kinda felt like he personally wouldn’t necessarily have minded it.

But he kept that thought to himself as the semester ended and he and YangYang moved in together, as Haechan worked his long hours at the restaurant to be able to afford rent, as he suppressed his desires.

Tonight, the restaurant is busy. Not packed and crazy busy, but just… busy.

There are enough tables filled that Haechan is running around constantly. They have him positioned in the back section where the private booths are, as well as him covering a nearby section, which means he’s frankly got too many fucking tables and not enough time or patience for it all.

He’s already dreaming of when his shift is going to end around eleven tonight. He’s already imagining undoing this tie that’s been choking him all night, taking off the crispy white shirt that is starched to hell right now because the dry-cleaners had fucked it up, and then lying naked on his bed, counting his cash tips, and then maybe seeing if YangYang wants to get drunk together because it’s a Friday night and all of their other friends are out of town for the break.

It’s around eight o’clock and Haechan is in the middle of politely but loudly inquiring about what wine the elderly couple at one of his tables would like when he walks in.

A fucking beautiful man. There’s no denying it.

Handsome, rich, tall. Recognizable.

Haechan knew his name, and he’d come into the restaurant before, but never while Haechan was working.

Dong Sicheng.

He is the kind of man that owns a room. He walks into the restaurant, and Karina at the maitre d stand immediately turns on the sweet smile and fluttery fuck-me eyes that she uses every time an attractive, wealthy man walks through the door. Haechan has fallen prey to that exact look several times in the past.

Karina happily leads Sicheng back to one of the private booths, and as she returns to the front, she catches Haechan’s eye, winking and tilting her head back toward the booth. That man is his responsibility now, and he knows that Karina’s silently asking him to somehow slip him her number.

Absolutely not.

Haechan does head back to the table, but Sicheng just orders one of the more expensive red wines they carry, and then sends him away, saying that he’s still waiting for his date. Haechan just has to take one look at him – his hair gelled back, his suit tailored to perfection, his expression cold as he stares down at his phone – to know that if he plays it right tonight, he’ll be walking away with a giant tip from this guy. He exudes money.

Haechan leaves him alone, returning to his other tables. Just checking in on them, getting refills for their glasses, inquiring if the food is good, handing out the bill.

He sees her when she walks in too.

A beautiful woman who wears the same aura of money as Sicheng in the booth back there, and immediately Haechan knows this must be the date that he was waiting for. She’s wearing a sweater that looks incredibly soft, paired with a tiny skirt that Haechan feels should probably be illegal for a woman with legs that long and perfect to be wearing. There’s no way that her date back there knows how many men in the restaurant turn to take a look at her as Karina leads her back to the table.

Haechan watches her, forgetting for the moment that he’s filling a glass of water at one of his other tables. To be fair, the man whose glass he’s overfilling doesn’t notice either, too busy following Karina and the other woman with his eyes. It’s the man’s wife that does, spitting out a sharp, “You’re getting water everywhere!” that draws Haechan and her husband’s attention back around to the table.

“I’m so sorry!” Haechan apologizes, doing his best to mop up the water that overflowed the glass, but the man just chuckles good-naturedly, sending Haechan off while his wife folds her arms and purses her lips to glare at her husband.

Glad to get out of there, Haechan hurries to go grab the glasses and wine for the private booth at the back.

The booths on either side of this one are both empty, only Sicheng and the beautiful woman occupy this whole back section. Haechan’s eyes are on them, both sitting on one side of the booth together. He watches Sicheng sit his phone down, his mouth moving as he says something to the woman, and she smiles, her eyes only on him even as she runs her fingers along the hem of her sweater.

Haechan steps up to the table then, and Sicheng’s mouth snaps shut. A cold filter falling over his gaze that had warmed while he looked at his date.

“Good evening!” Haechan greets them, sliding a pair of water glasses onto the table. “Are we celebrating anything tonight?”

The woman is looking at him. Her gaze sweeps over him from the top of his head down to his hands. He tries his best to keep them from shaking, but up close she’s even more beautiful. And she smells heavenly. He’s nervous for some reason as he sits two wine glasses on the table, and he opens the wine, pouring a bit for Sicheng to sample.

The whole time, she just watches Haechan with a penetrating gaze. Does she know him? Why is she looking at him like that?

Both weirded out and oddly turned on by her intense attention, Haechan is relieved when Sicheng nods his approval of the wine, and Haechan can quickly and smoothly fill the two wine glasses.

“Are you ready to order, sir?” Haechan asks, looking right at Sicheng. He can still feel the woman staring at him, and he knows he should be uncomfortable probably, but all he’s thinking of is stealing her away from this every-woman’s-wet-dream of a man. Maybe if she gets up to use the restroom, Haechan could happen down that hallway too. Maybe she would pull him into the women’s restroom, press him up against the sink and drag his black trousers down so she can kneel before him and suck him off with those pretty lips.

He doesn’t look at her. He can’t. Haechan knows if he looks at her it’s game over. He’s a fool to even fantasize about that type of scenario. He’s at work and he needs to be on his best behavior, which means not getting hard when he’s meant to be serving half the restaurant. Not to mention, the aura Sicheng gives off tells Haechan enough to know better than to look at this man’s date even if said date is looking at Haechan like she’d like to take a bite out of him.

Fuck.

“A few more moments, I think.” Sicheng says, flicking his fingers a little dismissively.

Haechan, relieved to be dismissed, to be able to escape the woman’s intense gaze and the seductive scent of her perfume, walks away as quickly as he can.

He tries not to look over at the table, simultaneously worried and hopeful that he’ll look over and find the woman watching him.

Haechan makes his rounds to his other tables, back to the kitchen to gulp down an icy cold glass of water to calm himself, and then finally he makes his return.

The woman is watching Sicheng, her cheek propped on her hand as he speaks softly to her. Haechan has no clue what they’re possibly talking about, but they don’t seem to mind the interruption as he slides up to the table, and Sicheng immediately begins ordering.

Now, the woman stares dazedly at Sicheng, and Haechan can just barely see the way that her hand is fisted at the hem of her sweater. There’s a nervous and excited gleam in her eyes; she nibbles her bottom lip. Maybe she’s just horny, because she’s also looking at her date like she’d like to eat him whole, and when she finally glances up at Haechan when Sicheng is halfway through ordering, she looks at him just the same.

He swallows, unavoidably catching her eye as he finally turns away from the table. He has to head to the kitchen to put the order in, and then maybe he’ll take a tiny bathroom break just to get himself fully under control, because at the moment he can feel his cock starting to pay attention.

Before Haechan can fully escape the orbit of this woman and man, Sicheng’s voice rumbles from behind him.

“Close the curtains on your way out, please,” he says.

Haechan often forgets about the privacy curtains back here. People so rarely use them unless there are business meetings going on. But tonight, in this particular booth, Haechan doesn’t believe that’s what’s going to be happening.

His heart pounds a little harder in his chest as he turns. The gleam in the woman’s eyes is brighter now, and she uncrosses her legs beneath the table just to recross them, shifting herself on the booth’s seat. She’s excited, probably horny. And now all Haechan can think is that as soon as this curtain is closed and he walks away something is going to be happening behind this curtain that he’s going to wish he could see.

As if Sicheng suspects what direction Haechan’s thoughts are going in, his gaze flicks past Haechan to the nearest table. “That table over there keeps staring.”

Haechan glances around, and he does in fact spot the table with the husband and wife staring this way. Of course, since Sicheng is a recognizable face, people are going to stare and he’s going to want privacy to dine with his date. Of course nothing inappropriate is going to happen back here.

Haechan mentally chastises himself for letting his horny fantasies invade his mind while he’s at work as his fingers loosen the ties holding the curtains back. He doesn’t say another word to Sicheng or the woman, just lets the curtain fall into place, hiding their booth from sight.

He takes just a moment to catch his breath and steady himself before he walks away. But that pause is long enough that he catches the whisper from the booth behind him, not quite muffled behind the curtain.

“I have a deal for you, baby,” Sicheng says.

He lingers for a moment longer, pretending to look busy as he writes on the order pad in his hand. But truly his ears are primed to listen for any sounds emanating from the booth behind him.

It takes a moment, and then Haechan hears Sicheng say, “If you can cum before our food arrives, I’ll take you on a trip to wherever you want.”

Haechan’s heart pounds.

Maybe his horny brain hadn’t just created a rogue fantasy. Maybe it had just read the signs.

Haechan walks away. Quickly.

He can’t hear anything more than that. If he didn’t walk away right then, he wouldn’t walk away at all. If he didn’t walk away, he was going to get hard, and he didn’t even have the modesty of an apron tied around his waist to attempt to hide the bulge that would grow in the front of his pants. Not that walking away truly helps with that all that much. All he can think about as he moves around to his other tables is that closed curtain over the booth back there, the beautiful woman in her pretty sweater and short skirt, the glazed and horny look in her eyes, and Sicheng’s voice promising her a reward if she cums before Haechan returns.

He considers dropping in to check on them again even before the food is ready. He wants to see. He wants to see the beautiful woman coming apart for Sicheng.

Flickers of the night with Shotaro and his girlfriend in the hot tub float across Haechan’s mind.

“Karina!” Haechan hisses as he passes the maitre d stand. She spins to look at him. “Don’t seat anyone else in my section for a bit. Can you keep an eye on them for me?”

“What?” She says. “Haechan, no, I’m busy!” She gestures at a party that’s just walked in. He folds his hands in front of himself, pleading. “You’ll owe me! Whatever it is you’re doing better be good!”

Haechan ducks into the employee restroom in the back. The light over the sink flickers, the sink is a little grimy, and the whole room smells of the lilac spray bottle available to prevent the room smelling of shit. Haechan closes the door, and he thumps his head back against the hard wood of it.

His hand drifts to the front of his pants.

He’s a little hard. Not much. And if he works fast, he might be able to get rid of it. He just has to focus, has to calm himself, has to not think of that handsome man out there fingering his gorgeous girlfriend beneath the table of that booth. Can’t think of the hot tub either, and Shotaro’s cock disappearing into his girlfriend’s pretty pussy.

Fuck.

He can’t jerk off at work. That’s unsanitary.

Haechan tries to focus on his breathing. Tries to think about horrible, disgusting things. Part of him wishes the bathroom reeked of shit instead of pretty flowers that smell too much like perfume, but after a few minutes, Haechan manages to get himself under control.

He steps back out into the restaurant, throwing Karina a grateful look. He checks on each of his tables again, grabs a few refills, checks in the kitchen on the couple orders he’s waiting on. And then he chances a trip back by the private booth. The curtain is still drawn shut, their food is still a bit from ready, and normally he would check on a table, update them on how long before they can expect their food.

He passes right by their booth, and the curtain flutters, and Haechan quietly moves into the booth beside it, wiping his hand over the table like he’s brushing away crumbs, but really he’s listening. Creating trouble for himself.

What he hears is not at all what he expected.

Haechan hears Sicheng’s voice again, and then a soft whimper from the woman. Sicheng is saying, “It’s been long enough, our waiter should be back with our food soon. Would you like that, baby? For him to walk in, him to watch me bend you over this table? I saw the way you were looking at him earlier. Do you miss me sharing you? Maybe he could stuff your mouth to keep you from moaning like a whore.”

Haechan’s blood rushes to his cock. They’re talking about him.

“Hold out just a little longer, baby, and maybe he’ll walk in.” Sicheng’s words bring another soft moan to the woman’s lips.

Haechan’s not foolish enough to believe that this is some sort of an invitation. He’s sure that if he were to step out of this booth and open the curtains of the one nextdoor, if he were to actually see what’s going on over there, he wouldn’t be invited to stay but rather cursed out and told to leave and then left with no tip for the night.

It’s her whimpered “Daddy” that does it.

Haechan can’t help himself. He doesn’t care if he gets caught by the couple. As long as he doesn’t get caught by his manager, he doesn’t care.

Kneeling up in the booth, Haechan reaches for the fabric partition that rises between the back of the booth and the ceiling here. It’s basically a pleated length of curtain bound to the booth and the ceiling, but Haechan knows there’s a small split in the middle, and he takes advantage of that right now. Just a peek. He just needs a little peek at what’s going on in there.

Distantly, he hears the ding of the kitchen bell, telling him that there’s an order up, and he just knows it’s probably for one of his tables. It can wait just a moment.

Haechan splits the fabric silently, and he gets a little peek through.

First he sees Sicheng’s head, and then he sees her positioned between Sicheng’s thighs. Her back is to his chest, her sweater is raised up above her bare tits. And that tiny skirt doesn’t do much to hide how fucking desperate she is right now, hips rocking off the seat while Sicheng twists her nipples between his fingers.

Haechan watches as Sicheng teases, “You want to sit on my cock, baby? So when he comes back he can see you spread open and taking me so well? Huh, Princess? Use your words.”

She just whimpers, squirming in between his legs.

Haechan presses his cock against the back of the seat in this booth. Sicheng reaches for his phone, which is fucking rude and insane in Haechan’s opinion. He’s got a beautiful girl squirming in his lap and begging for his cock, and he’s gonna look at his phone? But Haechan spots the app pulled up on the screen, the way that Sicheng slides his finger up on the scale, and she melts in Sicheng’s lap with a whine.

She’s wearing vibrating panties.

Oh, fuck.

Again, the distant bell dinging from the kitchen.

Haechan forces himself to leave this booth, to rush to the kitchen, to ignore the pulsing of his cock. He’s grateful that he at least did his best to position his cock in the restroom so it wouldn’t be obvious if he was hard. As he rushes to the window, the order waiting for him is the order for Sicheng’s private booth.

Should he wait a moment, give them another minute or two for Sicheng to get her to cum? Or, on the other hand, if he hurries, he might be fortunate enough to witness it.

“Dude, take your food and go!” The man on the other side of the kitchen window yells. “I’m not remaking that shit if they tell you it’s cold because you’re back here dicking around.”

Haechan quickly takes the tray of food, balancing it carefully, and he winds his way back through the restaurant for those closed curtains of the private booth.

His breath is coming hard and fast when he comes to a halt before the booth.

Haechan hears rustling on the other side of the curtain, but he can’t make out anything else over the sound of his racing heart.

Without letting himself think about it too much – because really, isn’t it their fault if they get caught? Not his fault for wanting to catch them? – Haechan whips the curtain open.

She’s in her seat, and WinWin is in his. Her sweater covers her once again, and although her face is flushed and her eyes are bright, nothing else appears truly amiss. Did he somehow imagine everything? He slides their plates onto the table, and he gives her a once over. She smiles at him.

Haechan lingers only long enough to make sure that everything looks right, and then he takes a step back, letting that privacy curtain swing shut again.

No sooner has that happened than he once again hears from Sicheng on the other side of the curtain, “Now, where would you like to go, baby?”

So she did cum. Maybe if Haechan would’ve stuck around a moment longer, he could have seen it.

Unfortunately, the rest of his night is uneventful. Each time he returns to Sicheng’s table, they seem perfectly normal. All of his other tables are boring and average. But Haechan’s attention keeps returning to the couple, possibly too much to the point of being somewhat of a doting waiter, constantly topping off their drinks, checking on them constantly in the hopes of catching them at something else.

Fortunately, it works out in Haechan’s favor, although not for the reasons his dick would’ve liked. Sicheng leaves a sizable tip, and Haechan wonders if he’s usually such a generous tipper, if it was Haechan’s extreme attention, or if he did it because of what they’d done in the booth.

No matter the reason, Haechan goes home that night with his pocket loaded with tips, sliding silently into his apartment shared with YangYang.

YangYang is in his bedroom with the door shut, but Haechan knows his fuckbuddy is in there with him; she’s not exactly quiet, which is the source of half of Haechan’s midnight masturbation fantasies. Cumming all over his belly to the sound of her moans through the wall between his room and YangYang’s has been a semi-regular occurrence since they moved in together. At this point, he’s pretty sure YangYang knows it’s getting Haechan off and he doesn’t mind.

And tonight is no different.

He knows they must’ve heard the apartment door close behind him on his way in, must’ve heard his bedroom door too.

But Haechan has only just settled into bed when he feels something thud into the wall from the other side. And then a “Oh, fuck, right there!” and a giggle that turns into a moan.

There’s the repetitive thudding against the wall, and all Haechan has to do is close his eyes and he can picture it. YangYang fucking his pretty girl against the wall, her ass hitting that spot two feet to the left of Haechan’s head. Her tits are huge too, so he can easily imagine how they look right now, how they overfill YangYang’s hands. She’s always looking so round and soft and perfect, Haechan wishes he could be in the room with them, to see. He just wants to actually see it instead of just imagining it.

He wants a repeat of that night after the bonfire with his friends. Watching Shotaro and his girlfriend fuck in the hot tub. It was so fucking hot to watch. And after his moment of weakness earlier – giving into his voyeuristic urges for the first time in over a month and a half – Haechan feels the need rising in him. He feels like he’s overflowing with sexual desire this evening, and if he doesn’t find some relief soon, he just might explode. He needs to see.

Maybe…. maybe they won’t notice if he sneaks over there. If he just cracks the door open to take a peek inside.

Haechan’s already palming his cock listening to her moans rising in pitch, the incomprehensible rumble of YangYang’s voice as he talks dirty back to her.

Haechan creeps quietly across his room, careful as he opens his door to keep it from squeaking, and he pauses then, taking a half-second to think about what he’s doing, but then he decides that he doesn’t care. YangYang’s door is just a few feet away, and the door moves so easily when Haechan presses his fingers to it that he’s not even sure that it was fully shut in the first place.

And there, Haechan sees it.

He’s kneeling on the floor outside YangYang’s bedroom, the door only cracked open an inch or two, but that’s enough.

The lights are on, making it easy to see the way YangYang is pinning his girl up against the wall, her arms and legs tangled around him. And Haechan’s never wanted to see YangYang’s ass ever before, but right now he doesn’t mind watching his friend’s pale ass move as he fucks his girl; he gets to watch the way her titties bounce, the way her head thumps back against the wall for YangYang to latch onto her throat.

He should probably feel gross, when he lifts his hand up to lick his palm, when he slides his hand down into his pants and wraps it around his cock. But all Haechan feels is good. So good as he rolls his hips forward, fucking into his fist at the same speed that they’re moving inside the room. He feels only good as he slicks his hand around the tip, tight just like he likes it, and he watches YangYang move away from the wall with her, dropping her down on the bed.

The bed squeaks as YangYang fucks her, luckily it covers the sound of Haechan’s phone vibrating with a call in his pocket and the way that he nearly fumbles it when he sees the name on the screen.

Karina.

The call ends before he has the chance to end it, but then a series of texts floods in. Haechan doesn’t know if he should be watching his phone or watching the way that YangYang is sliding down the body of the woman on the bed to lick her out.

The vision in front of him is winning out until he sees that Karina has sent him a photo, and then another photo. Out of curiosity, Haechan opens her series of messages. The first image is a selfie of her in bed, the second doesn’t show her face but it does a whole lot more, sufficiently distracting Haechan from the couple fucking in front of him.

He and Karina have messed around before. It’s never been anything serious. Only ever fucking for the sake of relieving some after work frustration.

Another message comes through, this time just the words: “you owe me, remember?”

Haechan shoots one last glance through the door to where YangYang has his girl’s legs over his shoulders while he eats her out. As nice as it is to watch, Haechan also wants to actually have someone other than himself touch his dick, and if that’s what Karina is offering then that’s where he’s going.

He doesn’t even head back to his room. Haechan just stands up, doesn’t try to close YangYang’s door, and heads right out the apartment door to meet up with Karina at her place, just hoping that maybe this time her three roommates won’t be there because they bullied him about their sex noises last time.

Karina doesn’t make him any promises, and Haechan doesn’t care all that much anyway. He just needs some more relief right then than his hand can give.

Haechan does his best to avoid his voyeuristic tendencies. Truly, he’s trying to improve himself into being less of a pervert.

Any time YangYang has his fuckbuddy-turned-girlfriend over, Haechan puts on his headphones with the volume cranked loud, he locks himself into his room and sits on the opposite side of the room from the wall that he and YangYang share.

It’s wrong even though it feels right, and he knows that. Watching people have sex without their permission is just not a good quality for a person to have.

He thinks back to what he’d said to Shotaro that morning after he first watched them fuck, when Shotaro had teased him about just liking to watch, and Haechan had called himself a tourist, just passing through. He feels like that’s still a rather fitting title for himself. He’s just a tourist, looking at the sights to see, and sometimes the locals don’t mind his presence, but more often they would probably prefer that he wasn’t there at all.

So he’s tried to restrain himself.

But it’s not like he’s been a total pervert about it, that’s the only way he can even somewhat validate these urges he has. He’s not gross enough to try to peek up women’s skirts in public. He’s not the type to touch anyone that doesn’t want to be touched. He doesn’t take photos or videos. He just watches, and generally the people he’s watched have put themselves in places where if anyone happened by they would be able to see — the hot tub, the professor and Haechan’s friend out at the bonfire, the couple at the restaurant, YangYang with his door open.

Haechan isn’t seeking these moments out. He’s not creating the inappropriate scenarios, but he is enjoying them when he comes across them.

And he stands by those simple facts that make him not as much of a pervert as he could be.

Months go by, the final semester of university for most of his friend group is nearly half over. Midterms are upon them, and Haechan is putting in long hours at the campus library or in study groups with his friends at the house.

On a late night around midterms, that’s exactly where Haechan is: the rental house for a big study session. There’s a constant flow of snacks and drinks provided by Renjun and YangYang throughout the night, and most people sit scattered around the living room to study. He and Jeno study in the kitchen, their textbooks and notes and charts and Jeno’s laptop spread out across the length of the table to study for their Econ midterm.

It’s mildly distracting when the group in the living room entirely give up on studying after a few hours, and they put on a movie instead. Haechan keeps finding his attention wandering, his mind struggling with this one Econ concept that he just can’t quite grasp no matter how many times Jeno explains it.

He keeps looking over into the dark living room which is occasionally illuminated with flashes from the movie playing. He notices some of his friends have disappeared, he notices Mark snuggling with his girlfriend on the loveseat, notices a trio crammed together on one sofa — a flash of light reveals that it’s YangYang and Renjun sandwiching one of the girls between them, though she doesn’t look uncomfortable. If anything, she’s maybe leaning into Renjun, her head resting on his shoulder.

Haechan turns his attention back down to his notes. The inky letters blur before his eyes. Maybe they should take a break, though there’s still a lot of ground to cover.

“Wow,” Jeno snorts, amused.

Haechan blinks willing his brain to focus, and he notices Jeno is distracted too, staring at the movie playing in the other room. Haechan follows his gaze.

“Oh.”

Haechan feels his heartbeat speed up a little. All of his friends in the next room are watching a raunchy sex scene in the movie. Haechan sits in the kitchen and watches the camera pan over flawless, uncovered skin, the curve of a breast, the swell of the man’s bare ass, hands flowing over skin, fingernails digging into flesh. Haechan watches the actor and actress tangle together, her thighs parting, his body moving against hers. And the sounds…. oh, fucking hell, the sounds. The moans coming from the speakers are loud enough that he’s sure the neighbors must hear them.

With an insane amount of willpower, Haechan pulls his gaze from the screen and scans the faces of his friends. The girls stretched out on the floor are giggling with each other. Mark is avoiding staring at the screen as his girlfriend leans in to whisper something in his ear that makes him smile, and the trio on the sofa don’t seem to have moved at all, although Renjun is like biting his nails or something — his fingers look like they’re shoved inside his mouth, but that doesn’t make much sense — while he looks ahead at the screen. His eyes look unfocused, Haechan thinks, wondering if Renjun’s even paying attention to the extremely detailed sex scene in this movie or if he’s entirely zoned out right now. How could you not watch the scene?

Haechan looks back at the movie, watching as the actress moans dramatically, her and the male lead both climaxing together in a golden glow. The camera zooms in on drips of sweat glistening on the man’s muscled arms.

“Yah!” Jeno snaps his fingers beside Haechan’s face, and Haechan jerks back into his present reality. “Focus, dude! We still have a lot to go over if you want to pass the exam.”

In the other room, Haechan notices Renjun getting up and leaving, climbing upstairs to his bedroom. Haechan only lets his attention drift for one more moment, his eyes landing on the girl moving over into Renjun’s abandoned seat. She looks like she’s blushing, and Haechan finds a smile rising unbidden to his lips; of course, she’s blushing, a sweet innocent girl like her, after watching that sex scene. He can’t believe she just sat through it like that. Just the other day when they arrived to one of the classes they had together, Haechan had made a dirty joke, and she’d looked like she wanted to hit him.

“Dude!” Jeno slaps his hand down against Haechan’s notebook again.

“Fuck, I know.” Haechan determinedly focuses once more on his notes and the copy of an old exam that Jeno bought off a guy who took the course last semester. “Can we go over this again….”

They keep studying for hours longer, buried deep in facts and figures and vocabulary that makes Haechan regret ever signing up for this class, but it was required for the degree, and he’d be damned if he changed his mind about his future career at this point.

By the time they reach a finishing point, it’s a few minutes after two o’clock in the morning.

By that time, the campus buses aren’t running. Taxis and other ride-share services charge extra for those hours, with the surge of people leaving bars. Walking back to his apartment is completely out of the question.

“Just stay here,” Jeno tells him.

“Where?”

It’s been a long time since Haechan found himself staying over on the sofa of his friends’ rented house.

The living room just outside the kitchen is dark, and the rest of the house is quiet. Haechan’s usual crashing spot on the sofa is already occupied. He hadn’t been paying attention since just after that sex scene, but it looks like one of their friends hadn’t made it off the sofa even after the others left.

Jeno follows Haechan’s gaze to the sofa in the dark living room. He sighs. “Come crash in my room.”

“Jaemin won’t mind?” Haechan knows that sometimes Jaemin prefers to keep people out of his space as much as possible. Jeno’s only allowed because the two of them have shared a room here in the rented house for the past two and a half years.

Jeno shakes his head. “No. I don’t think he will.”

So Haechan follows Jeno through the living room, past the laundry room and the bathroom down here, to the bedroom that’s tucked down a short hallway beside the stairs.

When Jeno pushes the door to his and Jaemin’s room open, the first thing Haechan notices is the table lamp on the chest of drawers is still on, filling the room with a pale amber glow. The second thing he notices is how they’ve got their twin beds shoved to opposite sides of the room, and Jaemin is currently curled up on his side against the wall, facing them. Jeno’s bed looks pristine; the pillows arranged perfectly, sheets tucked in with crisp corners.

Jeno just points to his bed, and whispers, “You can sleep there. I’ll just share with Jaemin.”

Haechan is tired enough that he doesn’t argue. He pulls back the covers, slips into the sheets, and as soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s drifting off. His body relaxes into the bed, but his mind is a little more reluctant to slip away from reality, no matter if he’s lying perfectly still, trying to slow his breathing, counting to a hundred in his mind. None of the tricks are working, even though every now and then he’ll topple just over the edge into the sweet black abyss of sleep, only to find himself being bungeed back into the liminal space between awake and asleep.

Until finally he’s more awake than asleep.

It takes him a moment to realize why.

The light is still on when he opens his eyes. The clock on the chest of drawers blinks that it’s half past two now. He’s maybe been struggling to sleep for about twenty minutes. Jeno is in the small bed across the small room. Jeno and Jaemin are facing each other.

Haechan lies there quietly for a second, picking up several small details that just make the bigger picture finally click in his head. There’s the way that Jaemin has gravitated away from the wall to be closer to Jeno. The way that Jeno’s fingers are beneath the hem of Jaemin’s tshirt. Jeno is stripped down to just his tight underwear, and doesn’t seem to care that Jaemin has slipped a hand around his hip, fingertips sleepily tracing the edge of Jeno’s underwear.

Are they a thing?, Haechan wonders. And if so, for how long?

When Haechan shifts slightly, the bedframe making a groan beneath him. Jeno twitches, but he doesn’t move. Maybe he’s asleep already, unaware of the ways that he and Jaemin have tangled.

It’s none of Haechan’s business.

But he can’t help remembering again how clean and crisp Jeno’s bed had been when they first entered the room. Almost as if it’s never slept in.

Again he glances over at the two in the other bed.

Jaemin makes a noise, and Haechan watches the way his fingers dig into the muscle of Jeno’s ass.

“No,” Jeno says so softly Haechan has to strain his ears to hear.

“Waited all night for you,” Jaemin replies, his voice not as hushed as Jeno’s had been. “I just want you.”

“We can’t.” Jeno says, “Haechan’s here.”

There’s the sound of movement, and Haechan quickly tries to close his eyes, looking only through his eyelashes in what he hopes is an unnoticed manner. Jaemin’s head pops up over Jeno’s shoulder; his hair is sleep-mussed, his eyes dark as he looks over at Haechan in Jeno’s bed.

“Why?”

“It’s late. He needed somewhere to sleep.” Jeno explains, and Haechan watches him lift a hand to cup Jaemin’s cheek. “If I’d known you were so horny for me, maybe I’d have told him to just sleep out there in the armchair.”

Jaemin smiles down at Jeno, and now Haechan feels like he’s just intruding. But also, damn, how has he been so oblivious to this happening? How has he never noticed that Jeno and Jaemin are even hooking up?

“Do you think… Maybe if we’re quiet?” Jaemin suggests, gazing at Jeno hungrily.

Jeno’s fingers trace Jaemin’s lips as he tells him, “We both know that you’re not quiet, Jaem.”

And maybe it’s because Haechan is still surprised by this, or maybe it’s because for the past few months he’s done so well at not being a voyeur, but he clears his throat right then and says to the both of them, “You’re really not quiet. I can hear everything you’re both saying.”

Jaemin’s gaze shoots over toward Haechan. Jeno rolls flat onto his back to look over at him, a look of apology already on his face.

Haechan turns onto his side, lifting his head up to rest it on his hand. “I can leave, if Jaemin really needs you that badly.”

The way that Jaemin opens his mouth leads Haechan to believe that he’s about to agree to that. Jeno covers Jaemin’s mouth before he can get a word out.

“No, it’s fine. It’s late, so we should all be getting to sleep now anyway.” He stares hard at Jaemin, the two of them exchanging heated, challenging looks.

Jaemin wants Jeno, Haechan would be blind not to see the way that Jaemin is looking at Jeno right then, regardless of anything else. Like he’d said moments ago, he’s been waiting all night for Jeno to come to bed. And right now, as Haechan watches the two of them have their staredown, he looks Jaemin over. He notices how the sheets have fallen away, sunken to mid-thigh, revealing that Jaemin is only wearing a tshirt that’s ridden up from Jeno’s touch, and a pair of underwear that does nothing to hide his erection.

Maybe it’s the sight of that alone that pulls the words from Haechan.

He’s an equal-opportunity kind of guy. Doesn’t care about gender when it comes to who he’s attracted to. In this moment, he’s attracted to what’s happening — or what has the potential of happening — right in front of him. It’s been months since he last watched anyone fuck, he’s been trying to be so good, but right now the idea presented in front of him has that hot knot of arousal tightening in his belly. He’s succumbing to temptation.

“Or you can just let Jaemin have what he wants,” Haechan says. “I don’t mind.”

Now that has them both looking over at him again.

“Can I watch?” Haechan asks, trying to keep his voice level. Hoping he doesn’t sound too excited. Maybe if he just sounds curious, they’ll agree; or maybe if he just sounds disinterested, like he’s just doing them a favor by fucking in front of him.

Jeno’s gaze slides back to Jaemin’s. “Are you okay with…?”

He trails off, just watching Jaemin as Jaemin looks Haechan over. His hand tightens on Jeno’s hip, a little show of possessiveness.

“I don’t want to get involved,” Haechan quickly says, “But you want him, right? You’ve been waiting all night, right? So have him, and since I’m here, just let me watch. I’ll keep to myself; you can pretend I’m not here.”

Jeno lifts his face, pressing a kiss beneath Jaemin’s jaw, and this time when he whispers, it’s so quiet Haechan can’t hear.

Whatever he said though must have put all three of them on the same page of agreement.

Jaemin turns his head, and his mouth connects with Jeno’s.

Haechan relaxes into the bed, ready to settle in and just watch. Both of his friends are really fucking fit. They’re attractive, though he’s never really felt this sort of attraction to them before, but he doesn’t discriminate about who he gets to watch have sex. Anyone really would do. Friends, strangers, it doesn’t matter.

He wonders if they forget he’s there or if they’re really just that comfortable. There’s no awkwardness, no overthinking or hesitation in the way that they touch each other. No glances sent his way as Jaemin slides his hand into Jeno’s underwear, as Jeno moans softly and arches into Jaemin’s touch. They look only at each other when Jaemin bites Jeno’s lip as he pulls back, when he pushes Jeno’s underwear down as he slides over top of him.

Jeno’s cock is pretty much how Haechan expected. Not terribly long, decently girthy though, a couple shades darker than the rest of him but pink at the tip and already glossy with precum though Jaemin has barely touched him.

Jaemin drops Jeno’s underwear to the floor, and then he’s kissing down Jeno’s chest, his abs, the V of his hips, his thighs, and then he spares Haechan just a singular half-glance before finally licking a stripe up Jeno’s cock.

To his credit, Jeno doesn’t make a sound. He just bites his lip, twists his fingers in his pillow, and looks down his body at Jaemin.

Jaemin is a tease, that much is plain enough to see. He only offers Jeno kitten licks to the tip while his hands wander. He touches — kneading Jeno’s pecs, pinching nipples, dragging his nails over his abs — and watches how Jeno reacts to everything.

Jaemin is still dressed in his shirt and underwear, grinding down against the bed when he finally sucks the tip of Jeno’s cock between his lips, slowly bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks.

Haechan watches, unable to look away. He can’t even bring himself to move to take care of the way his cock is filling out in his sweatpants. He feels like if he moves it’ll break the spell. They’ll stop what they’re doing and kick him out. So he just watches Jaemin’s lips tight around Jeno’s cock, the way that Jeno keeps rocking his hips up off the bed in an attempt to get Jaemin to take him deeper.

And then Jeno lets go of the pillow, reaching down to pull at the shoulders of Jaemin’s shirt. “Get naked, Jaem,” Jeno demands. “Wanna see you. Want to show you off too.”

There it is. A slight acknowledgment of Haechan’s presence.

Jaemin lets Jeno’s cock fall from his lips, and he scoots a little higher on the bed, making it easier for Jeno to reach him, easier for Jeno to start stripping him.

“Take a video,” Jeno grunts, and his eyes slide over Haechan’s for a moment before returning to Jaemin rising onto his knees above him.

“What?” Did Haechan just mishear that?

“I said take a goddamn video!” Jeno growls, wrestling Jaemin’s shirt over his head, flinging it to the side. “I want to watch it, I want to remember this.”

Jaemin smirks down at Jeno, fingers beneath his chin to tilt his head up. “You like this? Dirty boy.”

Jeno’s only response to that is to bare his teeth and hook his fingers in Jaemin’s underwear to drag them down.

Haechan fumbles for his phone, opening it to the camera. He accidentally takes a couple photos — one of the blurry bed and floor, the next of the blurry shapes of Jaemin kneeling above Jeno, and the third one a more clear one of Jeno wrapping his hand around Jaemin’s cock. Haechan switches over to video then, trying his best to hold the phone steady as he moves himself up into a sitting position. He leans back against the wall, facing the direction of the two men on the other bed.

They both slide into motion. Jaemin’s hands into Jeno’s hair, Jeno bending himself in half to get Jaemin in his mouth. Jeno doesn’t tease like Jaemin had, he takes Jaemin in like a pro, swallowing around him easily, all the way down to the base. Jaemin sighs and moans, carding his fingers through Jeno’s hair.

At last, Haechan allows himself to reach down, to just lightly touch himself over his sweatpants, to just run his fingers along the bulge.

Jeno bobs his head on Jaemin’s dick, slurping and sucking, and Jaemin is definitely not a quiet participant in this. He moans Jeno’s name, moans praises even while calling Jeno a dirty boy, a cockslut, and when Jeno tries to reach a hand down to touch himself, Jaemin calls him a dumb slut who can only think with his cock.

Haechan doesn’t think that one’s very fair. Aren’t all three of them only thinking with their cocks right then?

With a fist full of Jeno’s hair, Jaemin pulls Jeno back. The elder of the two holds his tongue out, looking up at Jaemin with dazed eyes, waiting and pleading silently.

Haechan grips his cock over his pants when Jaemin takes hold of his own cock to tap it against Jeno’s waiting tongue, to slap his cheeks a bit with it, smearing Jeno’s face with saliva and precum. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he enjoys it even more. Haechan can see Jeno’s cock twitching with excitement in his lap.

Jaemin keeps Jeno’s head tilted back like that as he slips his cock back into Jeno’s waiting mouth, and his fingers stay tangled in Jeno’s hair as Jaemin thrusts forward, fucking Jeno’s mouth. Haechan closes his eyes for a moment, squeezing his erection as he listens to the wet sounds of Jaemin using Jeno’s mouth, the sound of Jeno gagging, of Jaemin moaning and talking dirty.

“Gonna cum. Swallow it for me, good boy.” Jaemin groans, and Haechan opens his eyes to watch Jaemin draw back until only the tip of his cock rests on Jeno’s tongue. Jeno holds his mouth open, eyes closed, as Jaemin paints Jeno’s tongue, coating it and his lips in white.

Jeno’s eyes roll when he opens them, looking right over to Haechan in the other bed, looking right at the phone in his hands. Jeno closes his mouth to swallow, and Haechan zooms in on his face, capturing the way that Jeno’s throat bobs, the way his tongue darts out to clean his lips. But then Jaemin is there, his lips meeting Jeno’s, kissing him and helping to clean up the mess of his own making.

Fuck, Haechan can’t help himself anymore. He tries to keep his phone steady, but he plunges his other hand into his pants, pulling his cock through the convenient opening in the front of the sweatpants.

Jaemin pushes Jeno flat onto his back again. He sinks lower, kissing down his throat and chest. Haechan struggles to zoom out on the video with one hand, reluctant to take his hand away from where he’s palming the head of his own cock. He manages to get most of the way zoomed out, enough that Jeno’s face is visible where he’s licking his lips and staring up at the ceiling in bliss, enough that he can see when Jaemin stops at Jeno’s cock to take him in hand and lick him again.

Jaemin spreads Jeno’s legs, one draping over the edge of the bed, the other Jeno bends up, planting his foot on the bed beside Jaemin’s shoulder.

“Think you deserve it, Jeno?” Jaemin asks. He licks Jeno’s cock from base to tip then strokes his length with his hand. “Should I fuck you tonight? I already got what I wanted, and I didn’t ask for you to bring him in here tonight.”

Jaemin doesn’t so much as glance at Haechan, although he’s referring to him. Jeno just struggles to keep from pushing into the tightness of Jaemin’s hand around him.

“Do you deserve that, puppy?” Jaemin asks again, and now he lowers his head.

Haechan slides his hand along his erection, his hand holding the phone falters, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy watching as Jaemin lowers his head down between Jeno’s spread legs, and he holds his tongue out.

When Jaemin licks at Jeno’s hole, it’s Haechan that swears. A small “fuck, that’s hot” probably too quiet for the couple on the bed to hear, loud enough for the video to pick up.

Haechan, although being pretty open to anyone regardless of gender, and despite having a little personal experience with people with dicks, hasn’t participated in (or watched all that much explicit content involving) ass eating. So he wasn’t exactly expecting this, and wasn’t expecting how much he would enjoy watching one of his best friends eat the ass of one of his other best friends.

But Jaemin goes at it with no hesitation, feasting on Jeno’s hole while he keeps his hand working Jeno’s cock. Jeno writhes in the bed with pleasure, his body flushing pink although he keeps pretty quiet even when Jaemin brings a couple fingers down to his hole in addition to his tongue.

Haechan isn’t sitting at the best angle to get a good shot of how Jaemin is eating Jeno out, and maybe Jaemin realizes that, because he rearranges Jeno a bit so that now Haechan can see Jaemin’s tongue working at Jeno’s tight hole, slowly opening him up with his tongue and fingers even while still jerking him off.

He takes a more leisurely pace as he touches himself; Haechan doesn’t want to cum too quickly, doesn’t want to miss out on any part of this show they’re giving him.

“Now!” Jeno groans finally, grasping for Jaemin’s shoulders, his hair, the hand that he loosened from Jeno’s cock to touch his abs. “I’m ready.”

“Are you?”

Jaemin kisses Jeno’s hip.

Jeno just makes a sound of frustration, twisting on the bed until he can reach beneath the edge of the bedframe, sliding a box out. Haechan sits up, trying to get a peek inside. Toys, lube, a flash of something lacy, and then Jeno fishes out a condom, twists back around flat onto his back and tosses it down towards Jaemin.

“Now,” he demands again.

Haechan smiles at the slightly petulant tone Jeno’s taken. Does he play the brat sometimes? Haechan can’t help wondering.

It all happens very quickly. Jaemin kneels up and tears open the condom wrapper, rolls it down until it fits snug around the base of his cock. And then he reaches back down to finger Jeno again until Jeno’s cock is twitching untouched, looking painfully hard against his belly.

Haechan has never personally experienced anal play, nothing more than the time a girl accidentally slid her finger over his hole. It hadn’t been intentional and it hadn’t felt like anything more than a zip of surprise up from the base of Haechan’s spine. In his experiences with guys, it rarely ever got to the point of penetration, and one the few occasions it did, Haechan topped. But now, watching how absolutely desperate Jeno becomes as Jaemin curls his fingers inside him with no external stimulation, Haechan wonders if that’s something he should try sometime.

Jaemin pulls his fingers out of Jeno, replacing the two fingers almost instantly with his cock.

Jeno cums all across his belly, cock untouched, as Jaemin bottoms out. His cum shoots up his chest, though most of it pools between the ridges of his abs and around his navel.

Haechan has to squeeze around the base of his own cock to keep from cumming at the sight.

Jaemin fucks into Jeno regardless. The bed on the other side of the room creaks and squeaks, rattling against the wall a bit.

How the others in the house don’t know about Jeno and Jaemin is beyond Haechan. They’re not overly noisy, but right now they’re not exactly very quiet either. He’s sure the person sleeping out on the sofa in the living room can probably hear, and Haechan’s sure as shit that even if he was upstairs in one of those rooms he’d be able to hear this, especially with the rest of the house being so silent.

Jeno clutches at Jaemin’s waist, at his ass, his fingers squeezing up Jaemin’s arms, searching for anything to hold onto as Jaemin fucks him.

Haechan fists his cock, stroking in rhythm with Jaemin. He watches the way Jeno’s cock goes a little soft, bouncing on his belly in the mess he made, but he doesn’t go entirely soft.

It’s entirely too difficult to try to keep the video steady while jerking off himself, so Haechan moves on the bed, leaning over to the low chest of drawers between the two beds, and he props his phone up against the lamp, checking to make sure it’s got a good angle, and then he falls back into his previous position: back to the wall, hand on his cock, watching Jaemin roll forward, grinding into Jeno, bouncing him on the bed a bit, all while moaning and telling Jeno how good and tight he feels around him.

Haechan knows, if given the chance, he would gladly join them on that bed. He would love to feed Jeno his cock to be able to experience a blowjob from him like the one he’d witnessed earlier. He’s never looked at either of them in this way before but framed in this context, he wants to be a part of it.

Not that they look like they’re open to letting him actively participate. Right now, they’re both back to ignoring him, just making lovey eyes at each other as Jaemin nails Jeno, hitting a spot deep inside him that has Jeno growing hard again, has his toes curling and a whiny moan breaking through his lips.

And then Haechan realizes that Jaemin is stroking Jeno’s cock again as he fucks him, that Jeno’s cock is leaking across his belly. Clear liquid spilling over his abs as he lifts up on his elbows and attempts to fuck himself on Jaemin. And Jaemin watches with shining, enamored eyes as Jeno makes an even bigger mess than before, his cock squirting with each punch of Jaemin’s cock inside him.

He’s witnessing this moment of vulnerability when Jeno is at his rawest, and that alone is increasingly arousing to Haechan.

And to Jaemin as well, apparently.

Jaemin pulls out suddenly, pulling the condom off as he quickly jerks off with one hand over Jeno’s messy abdomen, while the other hand keeps stroking Jeno’s erection.

They cum together, both contributing to the considerable puddle on Jeno’s belly. Neither of them seem to mind the liquid and cum spilling down Jeno’s sides and soaking into the bedsheets.

Jaemin looks over at Haechan.

“You’re not done yet?” He checks out Haechan’s cock, then jerks his head to the side, indicating Jeno. “You wanna come over here? Jeno likes being cum on.”

Just that mental image of Haechan standing over Jeno, his cum being added to the mixture of cum and whatever else on Jeno’s belly, it’s enough to push him finally over the edge. Haechan doesn’t move from his spot as his orgasm pulses through him, cum dripping onto the front of his sweatpants, leaking through his fingers as he keeps stroking himself. He tips his head back against the wall to stare up at the ceiling, biting his lip to keep quiet.

“Cute,” Jaemin says. Jeno grunts softly.

Haechan doesn’t look at them. His head is spinning, his heart pounding. He really just did that. He just watched two of his best friends fuck each other, and they let him. More than that, they asked him to film it, even invited him to cum on Jeno.

He hears the quiet sound of kisses being exchanged, a mattress groaning, and then footsteps leaving the room.

A few moments later, the footsteps return. A damp towel slaps against Haechan’s chest, and he finally pulls his gaze away from the ceiling. Jaemin is too busy climbing back onto his bed to notice the way that Haechan glares at him. Jaemin carefully and tenderly cleans Jeno up, and Haechan takes the opportunity to clean himself up with the cloth that Jaemin had kindly brought for him too.

Mid-wipedown Haechan remembers his phone is still recording, so he leaves the safety and comfort of his spot against the wall to fetch his phone from where he’d propped it up. In doing so, he draws Jeno’s attention, his dark eyes blinking sleepily at Haechan.

Jeno smiles, a dopey look right then. “Thanks for the video, man. Send it to me?”

Of course he’ll send it to him.

But he’s definitely keeping it for himself too.

Before he tucks himself into Jeno’s unused bed, Haechan AirDrops the video to both Jeno and Jaemin.

Haechan sinks into the sheets with a smile on his face. Tonight had turned out better than he could have imagined. Thank God that someone had fallen asleep in his spot on the sofa.

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

a/n: this was a long one, full of haechan being a voyeur. And I don't know how many of you may have noticed, but once again, several sections of this were inspired by Haechan being a background character in a few other fics I've posted! First being Morally Gray Area with the naughty schoolgirl and Professor Hendery, and second being A Win-Win Situation at the restaurant!

I know so far there hasn't been all that much between the Haechan and our Y/N character! But I promise it's coming, and any questions you might have will be answered!

#haechan #nct haechan #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream #nct #nct 127 #lee haechan

309 notes · View notes

corinthianism · 1 year

Text

labyrinth | peter parker

pairing: peter parker (andrew garfield)/gn!reader additional tags: fluff, meet cute warnings: referenced character death (gwen), angst

summary: peter finds love again nearly a decade since gwen's death. note: this is like. a brain fart. i barely proofread this so like i'm just gonna HOPE it's not complete ass. happy reading!

The air was already biting cold in November. Peter had been sitting on the same bench for about an hour now, orange leaves clinging to his coat. Every so often, he would break out of his trance to brush them off. Gwen had gotten it for him on their first Valentine’s Day together after she saw him wearing one of his uncle’s old ones. She joked about how it made him look like he was hiding little packets of crack in his pocket. His lips twitched into a smile before he inhaled deeply, trying to remember the sound of her laugh. The real sound of her laugh, not the one that crackles through the speakers of his old laptop whenever he missed her. It’s been that long. He was always terrified he’d forget her: how her eyes twinkled when she learned something new, how her hair always seemed to be perfectly in place, or how her scent took over his room after every visit.

There were days when he couldn’t even get out of bed, too consumed by his grief to move a muscle. On the flip side, there were days when he could feel like himself again. Days where he allowed himself to smile and just be the nerd he’d always been. He knew it was what Gwen would’ve wanted. By some miracle, it was what she fell in love with. She loved Peter Parker and that was the only reason he had to not lose himself as Spider-Man. Despite it all, he found it got easier with time. It was easier to live with himself now. It was easier to accept that it wasn’t his fault. Four years has passed since her death and he was just barely accepting it still, but it didn’t hurt so much anymore.

It was rare for him to have the time to just go out and enjoy what the city had to offer. New York could be a real piece of work: that was evident from just how much Spider-Man had to deal with in the past few months, but it was home. Central Park was a place he hadn’t visited in a while, so he tried to not dwell in his thoughts too much and enjoy the rare opportunity. Admittedly, there wasn’t much to do but people-watch, but it was a nice change of pace for Peter. With how hectic things were at work on top of his responsibilities as a vigilante, he was exhausted. He was tired of being Peter Parker. It was nice to just be invisible for once.

He snorted. If middle-school Peter heard that, he would’ve been firmly smacked on the head by his younger self. He always wanted to fit in with the cool kids back then. He achieved that to some degree. Sure, he was more well-known as a dweeb rather than a cool guy, but he was still well-known. Even now, he realized his desires didn’t change all that much. It’s just that this time, he wished he could have a house and a dog and a proper job and be friends with normal people. Instead, he was still renting an apartment in a less-than-ideal part of town that he could barely keep. Before he could slip further into his self-deprecation, he was pulled away from his thoughts by something sitting next to him. On his right was a puppy, no more than a year old, slobbering all over the bench with a bright green ball in its mouth. Peter could only stare at it before the puppy carefully placed the wet ball on his lap, urging him to throw it. Before he could do anything, you jogged up to them and picked up both the dog and the ball.

“I’m so sorry, sir! I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately!” your eyes wandered down to the wet patch on Peter’s thigh where the ball used to be. “God, you don’t have somewhere to be, do you? I’m really, really sorry!”

You were really jittery. That was the only word Peter could think of to describe you. You didn’t know where to put your hands: between holding the happy pup, the ball with said pup’s drool all over it, or trying to introduce yourself to the man your dog decided was “the chosen one”, Peter was pretty entertained. Then he felt bad.��

“It’s no problem really,” he reassured you before pointing to the troublemaker in your arms fondly. “You’ve got a cute puppy. Too bad I didn’t get to throw the ball though.”

The sigh of relief you let out must’ve been cartoony because you swore you saw him smile, then he stood up and handed you a handkerchief. You looked at it for a few moments before accepting it with your one wet free hand gratefully. He remembered thinking at the time that you looked so welcoming. Like a friend you can always talk to even if you haven’t seen each other in a while. It might’ve been his senses messing with him, but the air felt clearer then. Your arrival cleared a fog in his mind, and he didn’t even know your name. So he told you his instead, his gloved hand touching yours for the first time in what seemed to be just a polite handshake. Looking back on it now, perhaps that was the first sign.

You told him your name, trying not to stare at the man in front of you. His eyes were so… kind. They were big and round and full of wonder, maybe a little dampened by age. Kind but tired. They should’ve been just as average as any other set of eyes you’ve seen, but when the sunlight hit them just right, it reminded you of swirls of honey. The rest of him surely didn’t disappoint. Maybe a few seconds in, you realized you must’ve been gawking at him, so you said your goodbyes and tried to forget about it on the way home.

Not that you could, but he couldn’t either.

A couple of weeks had passed. His patrols happened less often now with him working so much during the day. Between the bills and the pressure of being a functioning adult, Peter found it difficult to keep his head above water. He stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror he got from May’s old stuff. He was older. He was sadder. The suit still fit as well as it could, but squeezing into it was more of a chore now than an exciting flipping-of-the-switch into his alter-ego. His hands shook, if only for a moment, before he pulled down the mask over his head. The fire escape creaked under his weight before bouncing back into place as Spider-Man finally leaped off and swung into the night.

“It’s just another patrol,” he reminded himself. “You get this done and you can get some sleep.”

It must’ve been two hours into his patrol when he heard you. His ears perked up at the sound of your voice. Before he could even register what was happening, his body was already swinging its way to you.

“Sherlock!” you called out. “Sherlock! Where are you?”

This was impossible. You loved your dog to bits but you’d think he’d think twice before dashing away from you at the slightest rustle of a bush.

“You need some help?” a voice came from behind you.

You jumped and swung your fist at whoever it was. Peter managed to narrowly avoid your sucker punch so he stepped back and held up his hands, in fear of freaking you out even more.

“WOAH! Woah, woah, hey…” he tried to calm you down, his actions about as frantic as your own. “I’m Spider-Man! I’m here to help!”

Red and blue spandex. Wide white lenses. Your mind finally processed what was going on in front of you. Spider-Man was here.

Holy shit, Spider-Man was here.

Once again, you were apologizing to him. Not that you would ever know that it was the same person. You explained that you were trying to find your dog, and he listened. He clung to your every word, whether he meant to or not. That same fog in his head cleared up and soon he found himself engaging in easy conversation with you as you both searched the neighborhood for your dog. He felt light, like this was the simplest thing ever. Why was it so easy to be with you?

How long has it been since he was in the company of someone other than May? Someone who wasn’t from Midtown High who would awkwardly comment on how different he looked. Someone who wasn’t from the Bugle who would sneer at him every time he messed up because he was exhausted. How long has it been since he spent time with somebody who could get to know him the way normal people did?

He tried to shake off these thoughts. Who said anything about the two of you getting to know each other anyway? Peter looked back at you from the dark alleyway. You were on the opposite side of the street from him, hellbent on finding Sherlock. A happy bark echoed from his side of the street. The puppy he once could’ve scooped up with one arm was now thrice the size of what it used to be. Sherlock stopped to smell Peter. The dog barked once again, as if to say “Hi, I remember you!”, and then ran back to you before you could burst into tears of frustration.

For a minute or two, Peter stayed just to watch. You were so gentle with your pup, so genuinely concerned for its wellbeing that it struck something inside of him. With how long he’s been Spider-Man and how much he lost as a consequence of it, he often forgot that people like you still existed. He forgot that there were still good people in this world, people who would do the same thing he did if they were the ones bitten by a radioactive spider. People that would help a tourist get to their hotel safely, reunite a mother with their child or, like you, spend the rest of the night looking for their dog in the freezing cold.

Peter tried to leave as soon as he could because there was something about you he couldn’t quite figure out and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like not knowing what it was about you that rekindled a flame in him he thought he’d lost. You didn’t even get a chance to thank him properly. He shot one web after another and then it was back to work.

Your voice and Sherlock’s cheerful barks echoed after him, “Thank you, Spider-Man!”

He felt himself smiling underneath the mask. Even if it was just for that night, he felt like the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man again. For you, the walk home was peaceful, even with the ever-present noise of the city in the background, but you felt safe. Since that first meeting with the masked hero, you’d feel that someone was watching you every now and then… and you knew exactly who it was. It was always a blip of red and blue in your peripheral, but it was more than enough.

In February, you got laid off from your job. You’d seen it coming but that didn’t mean it still wasn’t a complete pain in the ass. You just turned up to work, got handed your box of stuff, and sent on your way. It all happened so fast. Next thing you knew, you were sitting in some dingy old bar, your box of stuff forgotten in the trunk of your car while you nursed your drink. Some guy took a seat a couple of stools away from you, huffing as he rested his head on the counter.

It took you a while to recognize him.

“Hey! We’ve met before… Peter, right?”

Peter sat upright then, an awkward smile adorning his face as he turned to you. He stopped himself from speaking right away. After all, you met him once. He met you twice, both as himself and Spider-Man. He had to keep that in mind.

“Oh, uh, yeah! From Central Park?”

You laughed, “Yeah. From Central Park.”

There it was again. The ease of the conversation. The natural flow of your back and forth banter. He couldn’t tell if it was just you or his heart finally giving in after years of self-isolation that brought about this sense of calm, but he was grateful for it all the same. You told him about what just happened earlier that day and… something pushed Peter to just take one more step into the deep end.

“You could come work at the Bugle,” he blurted out. Fuck. You’re so stupid, Peter.

“What? The Daily Bugle? The newspaper?” you repeated in disbelief, all of your attention now on him as you shifted in your seat. It was overwhelming. Why was it so overwhelming? This was only the third time he’s talked to you!

Maybe it was liquid courage, but he found himself nodding and just going down the rabbit hole of trying to convince you to apply, “I mean, you’ve been at that company for how many years? And I heard they don’t just hire anyone, too. If anyone could land a spot at the Bugle, it’s you,”—he grinned and put on an accent—”mi amigo.”

You stared at him, perplexed. Then, a smile. You were his friend.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he smiled back, trying to hold back the hope blooming in his chest. “I guess… I’ll be seeing you again soon?”

You wasted no time writing down your number on a piece of tissue and sliding it over to him, “You bet, Parker.”

In the safety of his one-bedroom apartment, Peter smiled at the messy line of numbers you scrawled on the two-ply tissue. He called you the day after, eagerly telling you abut what life at the Bugle was like. In true Spidey fashion, he was honest about it. His horror stories of his boss didn’t seem to faze you at all. In fact, it only made you more determined to apply and prove yourself. He admired that.

One call became two, and two became three. And one after that… and another after that. That wasn’t counting the daily texting that ensued in between. Peter found himself looking forward to your texts in the morning, when he finally fixed his sleep schedule just enough to wake up before his alarm started blaring. By the time you were officially an employee of the Daily Bugle, he couldn’t contain his excitement.

It was exhilirating to not be alone anymore. It was even better when he realized your cubicle was just right next to his. Peter made it his mission to ensure your work experience was a fun and pleasant one. It was so unequivocally him to do something like that. Each gesture started out small: he decorated your desk with two succulents when you started out. After a while, he would leave candy on top of your paperwork while you went to the bathroom. He always denied this. Then there were the sticky notes.

Peter didn’t come to work regularly, he was juggling two other freelance jobs most of the time but he always, without fail, managed to leave a sticky note on your computer if he wasn’t going to be around the next day. Like his other acts of kindness, these started small too. Imagining him hunched over a desk and writing these notes just for you made you more flustered than you could even begin to admit.

“Don’t forget to eat!”

“You’re doing such a good job :)”

“YOU’RE SO AWESOME!!! >:D”

But your favorite, favorite one, the one you kept safe in your phone case, was the note he left when you finished some of his paperwork for him. The two of you never spoke about the notes he left, both too scared to ruin the comfortable dynamic you’ve created. The very next morning, that familiar bright yellow poked out from in between the stacks of paper on your desk. You remembered the warmth you felt as you read his words. Something about his handwriting only intensified that.

“My hero :D Tell me how to make it up to you, you beautiful human being,” followed by a doodle of you in a Spider-Man costume.

One day, when he’s ready, maybe Peter would tell you how you saved a life just because you finished his work for him. In your own act of kindness, you allowed him to start his patrol earlier and save a teenage girl from getting mugged, or worse. When you invited him over to your house that weekend and saw the angry bruise on on his cheekbone, he let you tend to the cuts that were littered all over his body. He let himself bask in your gentleness and care and sweetness and everything that made you, you. You asked him if he got attacked. He shook his head and ignored the sting of the hydrogen peroxide.

“I fell into some bushes while hiking. Turns out it had thorns,” he lied. Lying to you didn’t feel great.

Instead of prying any further, you laughed and told him to be more careful. He could’ve sworn the room felt brighter then.

In June, May came over to his apartment to drop off some good homemade food; something she was sure he had gone far too long without, since his culinary taste consisted solely of instant noodles and microwaveable meals. The TV hummed in the background as the older woman made some small talk with her nephew. The realization that he was no longer a little boy dawned on her. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened, but it was a hard pill to swallow. May saw how tired and beaten down he was, especially after Gwen’s death, and it wasn’t until recently that she noticed a change in the young man. The stubble he always forgot to shave was nowhere to be seen, his unkempt hair finally trimmed into a manageable shape, and his eyes were brighter. He was still tired, but he was happy. For a brief moment, she saw the little boy she used to bathe and sing to before bed.

Peter was too busy munching on the chicken casserole she prepared to see his aunt smiling at him. Finally, she decided to speak up.

“Who is it, Peter?”

He looked up, not expecting the question, “Who’s what?”

“Who’s making you happy?”

Peter thought about it for a while, not sure if the answer he’ll give was actually the right one to describe what had transpired these last few months, “I made a friend, I guess. They’re really nice and uh… they just started working for the Bugle. So. I see them more often.”

May nodded, a content smile on her face as she processed the information. A coworker. A friend.

“Tell me about them, they seem nice.”

Peter hesitated for a second, only to be reminded of your face and your bad jokes and your dog. Nice was an understatement. You were amazing.

“They are. Nice, I mean. We just sort of ran into each other at Central Park and then I saw them again a couple of months later and I recognized them. They’re… they make me feel comfortable. Appreciated, you know? I haven’t had somebody to talk to like this since—” he stopped.

Since.

Since Gwen.

In the time Peter’s known you, not once did he think about her. Then that horrible sinking feeling in his gut came. Years of falling and learning how to get back up went down the drain because he was reminded once again of what he lost. His thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute, all of them connecting back to that one fact that he was sure would haunt him forever: Gwen Stacy was dead and she would stay dead and Peter couldn’t do anything about that, no matter how much he wished he could. Somewhere, deep down, a part of him never really grew up. How could he? What gave him the right to live the life he wanted when she couldn’t live hers because he couldn’t catch her?

Then you came into his life and pulled him out of his self-imposed exile. All at once, it was you flooding his senses and you weren’t even there. This was wrong. This was all wrong.

May could only watch her nephew go through a whole lifetime’s worth of pain all over again. In a flash, he was gone. May Parker was alone.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he had to leave his apartment. He couldn’t bear to let May see him like that again. He couldn’t… It felt too much like the first time. It felt too much like losing his uncle and his girlfriend. He didn’t want to relive it. New York’s skies were painted pink and orange as the sun began to set, but all he could think about was getting away. His feet simply walked and walked and walked, his mind in a haze until finally, finally, he stopped at the headstone that haunted him for so long.

Gwendolyne Maxine Stacy

Beloved daughter and friend

March 2, 1996 - July 2014

A breath he didn’t know he was holding in escaped him. It had been nearly a decade since she died. She would’ve been twenty-seven. The air felt colder somehow, but Peter, even with his scientific mind, wanted to believe that she was there with him in that moment. He wanted to believe that Gwen Stacy never truly left. It was true, in a way. It was Peter that kept her alive, even if it was only in memory.

“Gwen, help me out,” he whispered. “Help me out, please. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

He struggled to keep his composure.

“I met someone, Gwen. It was an accident. Their dog was all over the place and for some reason, he chose me. Gave me his ball to throw. And then they came along and GOD! They’re just— They’ve been nothing but kind to me, but I just can’t… I can’t do that to you. Never to you. And I know what you would say and how I’m an idiot but,” his voice wavered. “How can I ever look at anybody else the way I looked at you?”

Soft footsteps came from behind him.

“You can’t, sweetheart,” May placed her hand on his shoulder. “You can’t look at anybody that way you did Gwen. What you had with her was special. It was you and her, but that doesn’t mean you can’t start something new. Something entirely different and just as special. You know this is what she would’ve wanted for you, why would you deny her that, Peter?”

The dam broke.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

May held him tight. She didn’t know how long she stayed there in the cold with Peter, but the moment that little boy was left on her doorstep, she knew she would do anything for him. No longer was he little, but he was her boy, and he always will be. If she had to rub circles on his back for as long as he needed to pour his heart out to the world, she would do it. So she did.

You didn’t hear from Peter for the next few days. He always managed to evade you at work and when you did see him, he avoided your gaze and left as soon as he could instead of hanging around to chat about random stuff like he always did. You would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. Peter was probably your first true friend in this city. He looked out for you in ways nobody ever bothered to, even people you’ve known your whole life. Peter Parker was your friend and you were determined to get to the heart of the problem and fix it.

Miraculously, you caught him just as he was about to leave the lobby. Hearing his name from your lips stopped him in his tracks, so he turned around to face you. You knew what he was going to say. It was going to be another excuse to leave and not talk to you.

“Oh, hey!” he greeted lamely. “Look, I can’t stay around for too long, I have to—”

“Cut the shit, Parker,” you hissed. If it came out harsher than you intended, you didn’t care. You deserved to know whatever it was that made him start avoiding you like the plague. “What’s going on with you? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because it’s definitely something!”

He was caught. With nothing else up his sleeves, he pleaded quietly, “Not here. I’ll tell you, I promise, I just… Not here.”

A couple of hours later, you were face to face with his door. You hesitated to knock and as if on cue, Peter opened the door with a tired smile. His hair was damp and he was dressed in a shirt much too large for him and plaid sweatpants. He smelled of cheap bar soap and mint toothpaste. For a moment, all you could feel was him. It took all of your strength to push that thought to the back of your mind. There was a more important matter at hand, and that was figuring out what was bothering your friend.

He ushered you inside and you both awkwardly next to each other on his worn out couch. The broken leather pricked your legs every now and then through the old bedsheet Peter covered the couch with. All the confidence you mustered up throughout the day to confront him was lost now. You fiddled anxiously with the strings of a throw pillow, avoiding Peter’s gaze.

He broke the silence, “I’m sorry. I haven’t been myself recently but… what I did to you this week was wrong. Sorry. Again.”

You sighed. This wasn’t easy at all. The words came out before you could think, “I know. I just wish you would tell me. I think I deserve to at least know why you’ve been acting this way.”

Your heart thrummed in both anticipation and fear. Peter, with his enhanced everything, could hear it. That’s when he took in the sight before him. You were so gorgeous; an angel on Earth in his eyes. You, so beautiful in ways he didn’t think was possible, sat in his living room because you were concerned. May’s words of wisdom echoed in his mind. She was right. What he had with Gwen was special, she was his first love, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t form something new. It took all this time to realize he wanted to build that with you. Your eyes told him everything you didn’t say out loud. You cared. You cared, you cared, you cared. He loved you.

Peter Parker loved you. He just had to figure out a way to say it.

He was sure he looked weird in that moment. You stared at him so intensely, trying to figure out the enigma that was his emotions. His hands found yours and the first thing you could think was how warm they were. He squeezed, as if trying to reassure himself that you were real and that this was happening.

“I lost someone. She… she was my girlfriend,” he began shakily, trying to find the right words to describe the massive lump of something in his chest. “Her name was Gwen. We met in high school. All these years, I’ve tried to hold on to her. You know, to keep her alive in some way. It wasn’t until recently that I realized that maybe I was doing more harm than good.”

There it was. It was all out in the open now, bits and pieces of his heart sprawled out across the floor as he waited for your reaction. Thousands of scenarios ran through his head, all of them ending in you leaving him alone. Each version of you in his mind reflected the guilt he bottled up for nearly a decade, screaming at him and cursing him for the things he’s done and the things he couldn’t do. Then he felt your arms wrap around him. He didn’t even realize he was already crying.

“Peter Parker, you are a good person. I might not know the full story, but if she loved you as much as you loved her, then I know for a fact that she would want you to be happy. You deserve that. She deserves that.”

You prepared yourself for his protest; for him to rebut everything you just said. You hoped you said the right thing but nothing could’ve prepared you for what he said next.

“If you keep saying things like that, I’ll fall in love with you even more.”

It was so quiet, just a little above a hushed whisper that you could almost fool yourself into thinking he didn’t say it if it wasn’t for that fact that his hold on you got tighter. He must’ve seen the confusion on your face because he spoke again, “I hated myself for falling in love with you because I thought it was a disrespect to Gwen’s memory. I wish I couId say I didn’t see it coming. I always knew I would love you. I just didn’t want to see it.”

For a few moments, the two of you just stayed there, his confession lingering in the air you breathed. It might be a trick of the mind, but you knew it was sweet. Peter pulled away; too kind, too selfless, too afraid to consider the possibility that you might just feel the same.

“Peter—”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Peter—”

“—ruin everything we had, I just couldn’t—”

“Peter!”

He gulped, clearly not expecting you to stop him from rambling. In his mind, you deserved an apology. In yours, you deserved a chance to speak.

“Peter,” you spoke softly, trying to reassure him that you weren’t offended in any way. “Have you ever once considered that maybe I like you too?”

Ever since he got bitten by that spider, Peter learned to tune out the stimuli in his environment. It used to bother him so much; hearing and smelling and feeling everything all at once got overwhelming. Now, when all his senses pointed back to you, he finds he doesn’t mind at all. In that moment, he was so sure he’d die a happy man if your face was the last thing he ever saw. It took him a while to respond to your own confession, too wrapped in all of you to think clearly.

He asked you if you were sure. You said yes. He asked you again. You kissed him.

The feeling of your lips on his both grounded him and blew him away. Somewhere in between that make-out session, his hands found yours. He decided this felt right. Maybe Peter will never fully overcome his own insecurities, and there was a lot of them. He was worried he was too tired, too beaten-down for you… and that didn’t even begin to describe the fear he felt knowing that you would have to find out about Spider-Man at some point. Again, he was reminded of your friendship and your kindness. You had given it to him so freely. He just needed to take another leap of faith and learn to trust himself as much as you did.

When November came, Peter didn’t find the air so chilly anymore. Not with you around.

#tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter x reader #tasm spiderman #tasm!peter x you #andrew garfield #peter parker x reader #andrew! peter parker #marvel fanfic

517 notes · View notes

oreosmilkshakes · 2 years

Text

Once Upon A Dream

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x reader Fandom: The Sandman Word Count: 2,666 Warnings: Dark Morpheus, light mentions of inappropriate touching, light obsessive behaviour, light violence. A/N: This is a one shot! This is a Hades and Persephone sort of trope, or at least I hopefully did it the right way! Enjoy!!

Taglist: NIL

--------------------------------------------

To some, dreams are meant to be an escape from reality. To a realm where there are endless possibilities, to live in imaginary worlds where everything is perfect and flawless and to get away from reality’s problems.

To [Name], it’s just that. Everyday, she was thankful to return to the same dream. Lush, green meadows, blooming spring flowers, a small, quaint town with kind people. It brought a smile to [Name]’s face, her heart longed to be in this dream forever but she knew it could never happen.

She met with the residents, the old men and women treated her better than those in the real world. They cared for her, unlike them and she returned the action. [Name] would spend her day in the libraries or visit the town fountain to watch the children play as the sound of their giggles were like music to her ears. She would also wander to the meadows just a short walk away from the town.

However, there was something bugging her all the time. In the far distance sat a mountain. But the mountain was nothing like the town, full of vibrant colours. No, it was dark and everything about it screamed evil. She was hesitant to ask the locals about it, afraid she would not receive the answer she sought for so she kept to herself for the moment. [Name] picked up a flower and rested it on her ear, turning to town and left for it.

[Name] was a curious girl at heart. She wanted to know everything that would peak her curiosity and she figured the library would be the best place. Hence, she would always spend the majority of her time there.

Little did she know, a raven with feathers as dark as the night, perched atop a lamppost, its big eye looking down at [Name] resting on the window settee with a book open. He let out a loud croak and with wings outstretched, he took flight. Up, up and up he went, towards the top of the mountain where a lean figure stood. Little feet landed by the boot. The wind blew against the two.

“What do you have for me, Matthew?”

Matthew cleared his throat. “Well, um..It’s the usual routine, sir. Talking to the locals, reading in the library, spending time with the children,”

Morpheus stood with his back straight, hands clasped behind his back with dark eyes focused down on the little town. His tongue darted past his lips, wetting them.

“If I may, sir-,”

“No. You may go, Matthew. You will still do your duty of watching her in the waking realm. And tell no one of this. Understood?” He spoke with such a low voice, it almost ruffled Matthew’s feathers.

“Y-Yes, sir,” Matthew left shortly, leaving Morpheus alone on the mountain.

Soon, my dear

So very soon, you will be in my possession

Matthew would report back to Morpheus privately everyday on how [Name] was and it varied each day. Morpheus knew so much about her but he wanted more. Oh, he definitely wanted much more.

So far, this is what Morpheus knew from Matthew’s observation.

[Name] lived in Singapore and she worked as a secretary to a boss who Morpheus did not like. Matthew had informed him that her boss was the creep type and the King did not understand how [Name] was unfazed by his actions. Perhaps her naivety clouded her eyes from the straying eyes of her boss. [Name]’s co-workers were pretty much not very nice ones and it almost seemed as if they were alienating her.

When asked about it, Matthew replied, “They are jealous of her. Apparently, this sort happens everywhere with lower paid employees would whisper nasty shit behind the higher paid employees,” and Morpheus understood enough.

Morpheus also knew that she lived in a rented apartment with her roommates. Matthew said they were nice people to [Name] and it put Morpheus’s heart at ease. She also owned a black cat named Luna and she had a profound love for them. So much so that she would help out at the animal shelter as well as volunteering in events relating to animals and such. This information would be deemed useful for future uses, of course.

Morpheus would urge more out of Matthew and the raven would tell more.

On the weekends, [Name] would walk her feline friend in the park. She would also visit various botanical gardens all around the small country. She would take pictures of the animals, the insects as well as the flora there. This brought a rare smile to Morpheus’s lips.

She was perfect.

She was perfect to be his queen.

Morpheus couldn’t wait for that day to come.

But just like the perfect possession, everyone wants a piece of it. To taint it for the worse.

One day, Matthew came into his throne room, flapping frantically and a light pant to his little chest. Morpheus shot up from his throne, concerned covering his pale complexion.

“What’s wrong, Matthew?”

“S-Sir, I–,” Matthew inhaled deeply.

“Speak, raven,” Morpheus rumbled, eyes darkening.

“It’s [Name], sir. She..She’s..,” Matthew stammered and Morpheus did not wait any longer.

Morpheus found himself in [Name]’s dimly lit room. She was curled up on her bed, the cat snuggled against her curled form. The King tilted his head. Everything seemed well until he picked up a faint scent of salt and water. That’s when Morpheus leaned over. Tears had dried on her skin and it clenched Morpheus’s heart. Why were there tears staining her delicate skin? The purity of it, tainted by the saltwater. He brought cool fingers to her cheek, gently caressing it to wipe away the imperfections.

Little patters of feet approached the King.

“I saw everything, sir. Her boss..He touched her inappropriately,” Matthew peered up, focused on the King’s back facing him. The silence was deafening, the rage Morpheus felt, was not. He was not going to let this slide.

“Where is he?”

“He’s on the bridge-,” Matthew didn’t need to say more as Morpheus disappeared.

Alan stuck his hands in his pockets, taking short steps to admire the view around him. The castle, the greenery, it was unlike anything he has ever seen. And the last he will ever.

Alan blinked once, the castle in view once more. He blinked again, the sparkling water below reflected everything above it. Alan blinked one more time and all was gone. Sand replaced his surroundings. Vast, barren land of sand and nothing more. He gasped, looking around at the sudden change.

“I absolutely hate it..when someone goes about touching what’s mine,” Morpheus spoke lowly, a punctuated threat in each word.

Alan gasped, spinning back to face the King.

“What are you–,” “I’m talking about [Name], Alan Wu,”

“How did you know–,” A hand wrapped around his neck and squeezed, cutting the air off. Morpheus raised Alan off his feet as flailing hands tried to ease the pressure around his neck.

“I know what you did, Alan. You may think you have done it discreetly but I have eyes everywhere. My queen came home crying because of what you did and I find it unacceptable. How dare you..How..dare..you..,” Morpheus growled, jaw tight.

“Your punishment, then, will be a curse,” He tightened his grip.

“The curse..of eternal sleep,” The King uncurled his free hand, blowing lightly sand onto Alan’s face. His resistance soon weakened, eyes drooped and he grew limp. Now, all Morpheus had to do was to chuck him aside as if he was nothing and returned to [Name]’s room.

A tiny smile spread across his full lips, cool fingers brushing her cheek once more. He leaned in, lips ghosting over her ear.

“He is no more. I promise you, my love, I will give you whatever you dream of. Anything you ever wanted, it could be yours..Just get close to the cave on the foot of the mountain in your dreams..I will take you away,” Morpheus promised, pressing a very light kiss to her ear. [Name] moaned quietly in her sleep, her own smile curled on the corner of her mouth.

Once again, [Name] found herself back in her dream, back in the same little town she loved dearly. This time, it was different. There was something different about it and it was leading her towards the dark mountain.

She shook her head, clutching the book to her chest as she approached the bookstore owner.

“Good morning, Miss Elaine,” “Good morning, deary. What can I do for you?”

[Name] bit her lip lightly. Oh, better do it now then later.

“I just wanted to ask..everyone spends their day in the town and beyond but no one has ever travelled towards the mountains. Why is that?” [Name] noticed Miss Elaine visibly tensed, head snapping up to face the naive girl.

“There’s stories about it, deary. Mostly bad ones,”

[Name] tilted her head.

“What sort of stories?”

Elaine pursed her lips before sighing.

“Alright, I’ll tell you. Within the walls of the mountain lives a being that should one stumble upon him, it would drive him mad. Over the last century, only the stupid and the overly curious would venture close enough to the cave and never return,”

[Name] gasped.

“But these are just stories, right? I-It can’t be real..,” “That’s the thing, dear. Folks around here believe it to be real. Old man Fletcher even claimed he saw a figure standing atop the peak of the mountain. Whatever you do, do not go near the mountain. You hear me? Never go towards the mountain or the cave,”

[Name] pursed her lips and nodded, thanking Elaine quietly before dashing out towards the meadow fields where her favourite tree rested. White poppies grew around the large oak tree and [Name] grew to love them. She smiled wide, kneeling down to pick a flower up. Her eyes fluttered close as she brought the flower to her nose, inhaling the smell deeply. It brought so many deep memories she did not know she had.

As soon as she opened her eyes, a dark figure emerged behind the flower in a blur. [Name] gasped, focusing on the figure in the far distance with wide eyes.

The figure was tall, surely taller than her. He wore a black robe that flowed past his feet and a helm with an odd tube looking shape that looked roughly like bones. The figure turned, disappearing into the dark cave.

She was compelled, curious. She swallowed, gathering her book to follow the figure.

The hairs on the back of [Name]’s neck stood on end and her body tensed the closer she got to the cave. It was as if it was pulling her into it, whispering and tempting her to break the rule and to satiate her curiosity.

This made the girl stop short of the foot of the mountain, turning around to look back at the cave. There was still the opportunity to run back, back to safety and away from this evil.

Why run when it’s better to seek the answers you have been dying to know? Said an airy whisper, making the girl jump in shock. Her attention was back to the cave and there was total darkness..except with two white dots in the long distance.

“Come to me, [Name]. Come to me..,” The voice purred, sending shivers down her spine. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, chewing on it as she took a step forward. And another..and another and as she did, a black hand reached out through the darkness of the cave.

[Name] swallowed, lifting a shaking hand up to guide it to the outstretched hand. However, before she could make a final decision, the hand grabbed her own and pulled her in. A loud scream left her lips as darkness swallowed her and soon..nothingness. Just pure black and a spinning view.

[Name] came to be shortly after, gasping aloud as she sat up with a hand to her chest. The book was placed nicely beside her..on grass?

“What..?” She stood up, dusting the dirt from her dress as she surveyed her surroundings and what stood before her made her jaw drop from the magnificent sight. A shining palace with an intricate design stood tall, proud and majestic. Was she dreaming? Was she still asleep? She has to be, right? Because [Name] was sure nothing like this existed in the real world.

[Name] looked back down and she concluded that she was in the palace’s gardens. But, how did she get here? This still remained a mystery to the poor girl as she wandered the grounds of the garden.

It looked similar to the meadows of the little town with flowers blooming around her and along the cobblestone path she took. This sort of reminded her of the story her mother used to tell her. The story about the Greek God of the Underworld, Hades and his queen and wife, Persephone, the Greek Goddess of agriculture and spring where Persephone ate a pomegranate and was tied to Hades forever. But stories were stories, especially ones about gods.

[Name]’s journey took a short pause as she spotted a gate that led to another section of the garden. Perhaps this was the way out? She pushed past the gate, entering a whole new section. There were trees, fruits bored on its branches and hanging heavy, as if it was waiting to be plucked and eaten ripe. On cue, [Name]’s stomach growled. She smiled widely, a skip in her step as she examined the fruit trees. All of them looked enticing and delicious but what caught her attention was the biggest tree among the others, with bright, red pomegranates hanging from its branches.

[Name] scoffed lightly. The irony was truly real, wasn’t it? Trapped in an unknown place with a pomegranate tree? Stories were just stories, [Name] reminded herself as she set the book down on the bench.

She reached out, plucking the pomegranate from its branch. She brought it back to the bench, taking a seat with a wide smile on her full lips. Thumbs dug into the red skin, bursting the fruit open to reveal bright, juicy seeds. Her mouth watered at the sight as she took a handful. [Name] plopped the seeds into her mouth, chewing slowly and as she swallowed, her eyes fluttered close to savour the taste.

While the fruit tasted sweet, yet evil, she realised the irony.

She dropped the fruit, it rolled down the small slope before bumping into a black boot. [Name] realised her situation at the very last minute. But stories were stories. So, there is no way it is true..is it?

“It is, my love,” The deep voice answered.

[Name] looked up to face the voice, frozen on the spot as Morpheus stood beneath the pomegranate tree.

“You ate a fruit from my garden so now, you are forever tied to me and my realm. None of this is a dream, my love as it is very much real. How did you think the stories came to be?” Morpheus took a step forward and brought his hand up to [Name]’s cheeks.

“I have always wanted you, my queen and finally seeing you here, in the flesh, in my realm on my palace grounds, it is breathtaking. My obsession comes to an end here as I finally got what I wanted,” He continued, nose to nose brushing.

“Oh, my dear [Name], the lengths I went through just to get you here with me,” Morpheus leaned in, lips hovering over [Name]’s sweet ones. The smell of it, mixed with her natural scent and perfume was intoxicating and addicting.

“Soon enough, you will learn to love me,”

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to wail.

But nothing came out.

For she truly is Persephone and him, Hades, of their story.

1K notes · View notes

alwaysbethewest · 1 year

Text

Triple Frontier fic: A Pilot for Christmas

It's @pedrostories Secret Santa day!! My assignment was for @frannyzooey, who requested domesticity, roommates-to-lovers, and fluff or smut 🥰 I had some of the most fun EVER writing this fic, so I hope it will make you smile, too, Kelli. Merry Christmas!! 🎄 Thank you to @mourningbirds1 and @fleetwoodmactshirt, both of whom I—not to be dramatic but—basically can't live without at this point, and at the very least couldn't have written this fic. And she's not a Pedro fan so I can't imagine she wants to be tagged in this, but thank you to my friend Alyssa for kindly helping me with one of the very few pieces of actual research I did for it.

Title: A Pilot for Christmas Pairing: Frankie Morales/f!Reader Rating: Mature Word Count: 4.8k Content/warnings: roommates to lovers, hot single dad Frankie, pining, yearning, lusting, questionable romance novel smut, compromising positions, sexual content, fade to black, food, domesticity. Unbetaed, so please let me know if you spot any typos/errors!

There’s a note for you on the kitchen table, written in Frankie’s even, boxy print: Mac + cheese + trees in fridge if you want some.

Your schedules never align on Wednesdays; your boss’s mandatory mid-week team meetings inevitably keep you late and Frankie is always on his way to Laura’s place by the time you get home. You haven’t met his ex-wife, but you think she must be nice enough since he’s usually in a good mood when he gets home from their weekly family dinners. They’re co-parenting, as he’d explained when you first moved in, and along with providing dinner on Wednesdays he does his part by taking their daughter on the weekends. He’s given you a break in the rent to make up for sharing your apartment with a three-year-old two days a week.

This is technically a sublet, and it’s technically temporary, but you get along well enough with Frankie that sometimes it feels a little like kismet. His old roommate had landed a contract overseas for a year just as you were moving to town, and a mutual friend had connected you. There are four months left on the contract, but you’d heard from the roommate recently that he was expecting the position to be renewed, so most likely you’ll get to stay longer if you want to. Nothing is official yet either way, and you’ve decided to give yourself another month before you start to worry about it.

Having the apartment to yourself once a week is the perfect opportunity to watch your favorite guilty pleasure TV shows without fear of male judgment—not that Frankie gets really rude about it but his silent raised eyebrow speaks volumes—and you happily warm up a bowl of macaroni and cheese and “trees” (broccoli; it turns out toddlers lose interest when you use the B-word) and settle in on the couch.

Living with Frankie has gone better than you’d feared it might. Knowing he was the friend of a friend of a friend had alleviated some of your anxiety about moving in with a stranger, and he’s turned out to be a mostly quiet, respectful roommate. After maintaining clear-cut boundaries for the first couple of weeks, you had both relaxed a little bit and settled into something of a shared routine. He likes to cook but doesn’t enjoy grocery shopping, so you often take his list along with your own to the store—and reap the rewards on nights like this when he keeps you well-fed. You both like to keep a tidy home, and neither of you minds the other person throwing in a few items when you’re doing a load of laundry. You’ve even mostly gotten over the embarrassment of the time Frankie had delicately handed you a pair of thong underwear he’d found trapped in the sleeve of one of his clean shirts. The barely-contained amusement on his face had haunted you for a full week.

When you’ve finished your dinner you pause the TV to go wash your bowl, and while you’re in the kitchen you take a few minutes to put away the dishes Frankie had left drying in the dish rack. It’s an easy symbiosis, you muse, a give-and-take that seems to suit you both. Underneath his note, you write back: Delicious!! Thank you, and sign it with a heart.

Most of the time your editing job allows you to maintain a reasonable work-life balance, but this month you’ve found yourself scrambling to get everything done before the upcoming holiday break. Your co-worker Deandra is off on an unexpected leave, and after taking on a share of her work on top of your own, the projects have started to form an intimidating pile. One Monday, two weeks before Christmas, you compromise your typical boundaries by logging back onto your laptop after dinner to work on a manuscript. Frankie is watching a game with the volume on low and it makes for comfortable background noise while you work from the opposite end of the couch.

Deandra’s specialty is romance, and while you’ve had to get used to covering a new genre, having some variety has been interesting. But a detail in this book is bothering you. You glance at Frankie, whose expression is quietly focused. His team is leading the scoreboard by a healthy margin. You don’t think he’ll mind a brief distraction.

“Hey. I could use your piloting expertise. Can I ask you a weird question?”

Frankie raises an eyebrow and shrugs his assent. “Go ahead.”

“Okay, so—is it logistically possible to have sex in a cockpit?”

You have his attention. He slowly turns his head to give you a long, wide-eyed look. After a moment of silence, he narrows his eyes, contemplating. “What kind of aircraft are we talking?”

“Like a regular… A commercial passenger plane?”

He nods, pursing his mouth and tilting his head up so he can gaze off into space, like he’s visualizing it. He glances at you again.

“Two people?” he checks.

“Two—yes, it’s—” he’s surprised you a little, and you fumble for words. “It’s not a cockpit orgy,” you tell him.

He laughs. “Pilots like to party,” he says opaquely, and now you’re the one narrowing your eyes at him, but he’s ignoring your questioning look. “Okay, is it possible? Theoretically, sure. Especially if the other person is short. Is it comfortable, though?” He pulls a face. “It wouldn’t be my choice. It’s a cramped space. Someone’s gonna end up hitting their head, or accidentally kicking the instrument panel, or…” he trails off, shaking his head in disapproval. “It’s… inadvisable.”

“Got it. Thank you.” You make some notes in the Word document on your screen, still internally recovering from his follow-up question, and Frankie turns his attention back to the TV, where the opposing team is starting to close the lead.

You’re no prude, but the genre you usually work in fades to black more often than not, and this author’s penchant for smutty detail has you feeling slightly in over your head. You’ve made it past the cockpit quickie but four chapters later Frankie’s team is on the cusp of winning their game and your protagonist is finally about to have her tall, dark, and handsome pilot love interest in a real bed.

“This love scene is… really something,” you comment. Frankie looks over in interest.

“Read it to me.”

“It’s dirty,” you warn him.

Frankie smirks. “I think I can handle it.”

You take a breath and start to read aloud from the page: “Isabella’s heart raced in excitement. Roderick was standing so close she felt as though his breath was entering her lungs with every inhalation. He took her hand and pressed her palm to himself, making her feel his turgid cock stirring in his pants—Obviously that needs to go—”

“Which part, the turgid cock?” Frankie asks. “I like it.”

“You like it?” you ask, incredulous.

“What?” he says. “A guy can’t enjoy a turgid cock now?”

“Jesus,” you laugh. Your face is starting to feel warm. “Isabella’s petite hand could barely fit around Roderick’s girthy length and it made her whimper with arousal. Roderick smirked down at her. ‘I can’t wait to be inside you,’ he rasped hungrily. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush against his body. ‘Tell me you want it,’ he growled.” You glance at Frankie and see he’s got one arm slung across his chest and the other hand resting at his mouth, thumbnail running distractedly over his lips. He’s staring at the TV without really watching it, and after a moment of silence he finally blinks and meets your eyes again.

“It’s weird you get to read porn for work,” he says dryly, and you bury your face in your hands and laugh.

When the game ends, Frankie switches on an episode of Star Trek that he seems to be half watching while he does something on his phone. On your laptop screen, Roderick has you stymied.

Roderick’s muscular arms tossed Isabella onto the bed like she weighed nothing. “Ohhh,” she moaned. “Give it to me.”

“Give you what, baby?” he rasped. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Give me—” Her pale cheeks blushed prettily. How could she say it out loud? But he was looking at her with such lust in his eyes that she knew he only wanted to make sure she was ready to turn herself over to him, to let him use her any way he liked. The thought of it made her shiver with anticipation. “Give me your cock, Roderick. Make me yours.”

With a growl from deep in his chest, Roderick dragged her hips down the bed so that she was balancing on the edge, where his body loomed over hers. Turning her onto her side, he leaned down to nose under her ear, nipping at the delicate skin of her neck and making her moan. His broad hand clutched her thigh, maneuvering her leg to tuck her knee around his hips, and his other hand he ran tantalizingly down her back until he reached her other thigh. He opened her legs, like an explorer unveiling the treasure he’d been seeking, and he straightened up, lifting her ankle to rest against his shoulder, and grinding his hard member against her core.

You go over the last few lines again, whispering the words under your breath to yourself as you try to picture the position. You feel like you need a diagram.

“I’m lost,” you declare.

Frankie glances up from his phone. “Hm?”

“I don’t understand where these limbs are going,” you tell him. “I don’t know if my brain just isn’t working because it’s 9 PM or if this passage needs rewriting. Or if this sex is too advanced for me.”

He laughs and makes a grabbing motion at your laptop. “Lemme see.”

You hand it over, standing up to stretch while he reads it to himself.

“‘He opened her legs like an explorer unveiling the treasure he’d been seeking,’” Frankie reads out dramatically. “Really?”

“Don’t get caught up in the simile,” you say. “Focus on the legs. Is that position even feasible? For someone who isn’t a contortionist?”

“Maybe in the next chapter they reveal she was raised in the circus,” he suggests, but he squints at the screen again, reading through the text. “I think I get it. It’s like—” He gestures with his arms, posing them to mimic Isabella’s legs. It’s borderline incomprehensible.

Later, you’ll blame the late hour and your overworked brain for what happens next. If you’d been running on all cylinders, you would have thought through the boundary-crossing implications of this and stopped yourself, but as it is you frown down at him and say, “Show me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on,” you urge him, already heading down the hallway to your bedroom. He hesitates, but then follows a few paces behind, and it’s then—the moment he crosses the threshold behind you—that your brain finally catches up to your actions and you begin to realize this was a terrible, terrible idea.

But somehow, coming up with an excuse to turn back feels more mortifying than plowing forward. You sit on the edge of the bed, trying to focus on the matter at hand. Frankie is hanging back, but you give him an expectant look and he takes a step towards you. He clears his throat softly.

“On your side,” he says. It shouldn’t sound like a command—he offers it gently, a reminder of the scene you’re playing out—but something inside you can’t tell the difference and you feel a spot deep in your core go hollow and needy. You turn, obediently, and lay on your right side. He touches the knee of your right leg, urging you to pull it forward.

“This leg around me.”

He steps into the crook of your knee, between your thigh and your calf, and looks down at your other leg, tucked awkwardly between your bodies.

“This is where it gets weird,” he says, and you laugh out loud. The sound dies out when you feel his fingers firmly wrap around your ankle and slowly maneuver your left leg, straight in front of you and then pivoting towards the ceiling. You feel the stretch in your hips, your body turning to follow so you’re halfway between your back and your side. It’s awkward, and he must see your face twist in discomfort, because he stops midway through the movement and rests your foot on his left shoulder. His body is solid and warm against the back of your leg.

“I think in the book it was over here,” he says, tapping his right shoulder. “So maybe she is a contortionist.”

“Or I need to do more Pilates,” you lament. He looks amused.

“Does this position even make sense? Would this work for you?” you ask him, regretting the question as soon as it’s left your mouth. He blinks down at you and his eyes rake down the length of your body to where you’re tangled around him. His hand is still resting over your ankle.

“Your bed is too low,” he says.

It’s—You’d meant the question in a more hypothetical sense. With some other partner, in some other scenario, would this position work? The knowledge that he has taken in the question and assessed the situation—looked at your two bodies in relation to each other, here, in your room, and thought about whether he could fuck you like this—makes you lose your breath.

“Plus—” he continues. He nudges at you to roll you onto your back, carefully lowering your foot from his shoulder so he’s standing between your open legs, nothing between you but empty space and a secret, aching want. He leans in, bracing his hands flat on either side of your body, not touching you but close enough he would only have to lean in. “I like to be able to kiss someone when I make love to them,” he says softly.

He shoots you a smile that could almost be a smirk as he stands up and heads out of the room, leaving you clutching the duvet cover as the world around you tilts on its axis.

It’s not like you’ve never noticed Frankie is attractive. Anybody could see that he is. He’s boyishly cute when he’s playing around with his daughter, their matching, dimpled smiles on display; smoldering when he gets cleaned up to go out on the town with the guys, if a little less runway-ready the morning after; and confusingly, unrecognizably handsome on the occasions he goes clean-shaven. But he’s been so firmly relegated to “platonic male roommate” status since you moved in that you’ve never, even for a second, thought about pursuing anything more. Lusting after your roommate can only end in awkwardness and moving boxes.

So discovering that the man you live with isn’t just good-looking, but has the ability to leave you wet and aching with desire, without even trying, has you looking at everything through a new lens.

On Tuesday, mid-morning, your phone lights up with a text from him. It’s a picture of a small plane cockpit interior, just two seats and a display of navigational instruments.

See how tight she is? he’s written.

You blink at your phone. SHE??

…

She = the plane. Sorry, pilot speak.

Mortifying. You nearly pull up the local apartment rentals page on Craigslist right then and there. You dive into your work instead—not Deandra’s romance, but the grisly thriller in your regular docket. Roderick and Isabella need to give you some space this week. It’s not them, it’s you—and the images of Frankie and you in compromising positions that had popped into your mind when you attempted to pick back up the draft.

He’s like a specter, haunting you.

Wednesday evening is your night with the apartment to yourself, and you’ve never been happier to be alone. He’s left you dinner, again, and you almost don’t eat it on principle—you’ll have to get used to feeding yourself, after all, once he kicks you out for making it too blatantly obvious you want to jump him.

But it would be an actual crime to pass up his enchiladas. You savor the plate. Maybe he’ll give you the recipe as a parting gift, if you ask nicely.

You pour yourself a glass of wine and catch up on one of your shows, and some of the tension you’ve been holding starts to drain from your body. But underneath is a familiar, restless energy buzzing through you, desperate for a different outlet, that you can’t ignore.

You go to bed early. What you need is just a little quality time with yourself, to reconnect and remind your body that you’re perfectly capable of satisfying it on your own—or with the no-strings-attached assistance of a vibrator.

It’s a valiant, miserable attempt. Every tried and true fantasy keeps rerouting back to Frankie. You turn your toy to its highest setting and the sensation still pales in comparison to the thrill of his fingers wrapped securely around your ankle, the line of his body pressed against your legs, and his low, deadly voice telling you how to move.

You go to sleep more frustrated than when you started, only to dream of him. He’s hovering over you, pressing you into the bed, his hot mouth on your neck and sucking on your tits and working his way down to eat you out and bring an orgasm crashing through you—and you wake up at 3 AM with your cunt throbbing between your legs.

One of the things you’ll miss most about this place when you inevitably have to move out due to your incurable roommate attraction is the in-unit washer and dryer. Perhaps in solidarity with your own resolve and self-control, the dryer abruptly breaks in the middle of the week.

“Do you want me to call the landlord, or will you?” you ask Frankie, but he immediately shakes his head.

“Let me take a look at it,” he says.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek.

Two hours and one trip to a hardware store later, he’s on his knees in front of the machine, working quietly save for an occasional soft grunt of exertion when he has to fit something into place.

There’s a bare strip of skin on display where his shirt has ridden up, and a black waistband peeking out from under his jeans. Your mind drifts, imagining away the denim and picturing how the tight boxer briefs would cup his ass and grip his muscular thighs, until your own thighs are clenching and you force yourself to go clean the kitchen instead.

“I’m moving out,” you call over your shoulder as you go.

“I promise I can fix it,” he says, like he thinks you’re just fed up with one broken appliance, not your own internal breakdown.

If only.

It’s 7 AM Friday and you’re fixing your coffee when Frankie ambles into the kitchen, bare-chested and barefoot and wearing nothing more than a pair of low-slung pajama bottoms. If you allowed yourself to look, you would see the soft curve of his modest belly and the sparse line of hair trailing down to disappear enticingly under his waistband. His voice is early morning-deep when he mumbles a good morning. His hand steadies casually on your wrist when he stands next to you to grab a mug from the cupboard just to your left, and you hope he can’t feel your pulse quicken under his touch. When his coffee is ready and he takes his first sip, he lets out a satisfied groan. You want to die.

“You must be doing this on purpose,” you say, dismayed.

He blinks at you over the rim of his coffee cup. “Doing what?”

You gesture helplessly, at his naked chest and effortlessly rumpled bedhead. “Just—being all—”

He glances down at himself, then back at you, raising an eyebrow. “Being all…?”

“Just—sexy, I guess,” you finally admit.

For a moment, he looks surprised. Then an amused smile spreads slowly over his face and he takes a step towards you, clever eyes taking in how your body straightens and your breath picks up.

“I didn’t realize it bothered you,” he says. “Didn’t you say you were going to move out, anyway?”

“I am,” you say. “I can’t stand you anymore.”

He takes another step closer.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “I could give you a reason to stay.”

You slump against the counter at your back, helplessly wanting him.

“Please,” you tell him.

He touches you carefully, one hand skimming your hip and the other on your arm. He cocks his head, looking skeptical.

“You really think I’m sexy?” he asks.

You nod miserably. “It’s torture.”

He laughs and you are desperately endeared by the way it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, and the hint of a dimple peeking out under his beard.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, and he leans in, and the touch of his lips to yours makes you feel like you’re floating, like your body might drift up to the sky if not for his sturdy frame anchoring you in place. Like your legs might give out, sending you sliding to the floor, except that he’s pressing close enough now that his body is touching yours, bending you back just enough to easily reach, and his hand has crept up from your arm to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you securely even as he finally pulls his mouth away, leaving you breathless and dazed.

You think you understand the overwrought prose of Deandra’s romances now.

“I can’t stand you either,” he says quietly. “You were torturing me the other night, with all the dirty talk from that book and then making me go to your room. Christ.”

“Sorry,” you say, not really meaning it. You’ve never felt this intoxicated this early in the morning. You’ve never looked into his eyes this close up. They’re a rich, deep brown that you feel halfway hypnotized by.

He glances away and must spot the microwave clock, because he pulls away with a look of regret. “I need to get ready for work.”

“Take a sick day,” you suggest.

He smiles ruefully and shakes his head. “I can’t,” he says. “But what would you do if I did?

You take a deep breath. Your eyes drop to his waist, and you touch your fingertips gingerly to the soft skin on display there. You lift your gaze to meet his own.

“I’d ask you to take me to bed,” you tell him.

He forces himself to leave. You watch his fingers clenching as he turns away, closing around the empty air as though he wishes it was you.

You go to your own room on unsteady legs and finish getting ready for work, thinking of Frankie’s mouth for your entire commute and almost missing your exit as a result. This time, opening Roderick and Isabella’s romance is a whole new kind of torture, and you end up claiming a headache by 3 o’clock to go home early, not caring if your boss can see through the lie.

Getting home early means you have plenty of time to shower and shave and moisturize with intent this time instead of your regular lazy girl morning routine. You’re soft and smooth and clean, in the kitchen making a snack of crackers and cheese to distract your anticipatory nerves, when Frankie comes home.

He gives you a small, familiar smile and sets a grocery bag on the counter between the two of you.

“You pick which comes first,” he says, nodding to the bag. He steals a cracker off your plate while you peer inside.

He’s brought you two pints of Ben & Jerry’s and one box of condoms.

“All the essentials,” you observe, and he grins. You pluck the condoms out of the bag and hand them to him meaningfully. His smile turns a little sly and he leans in and kisses you, too briefly for your liking, before pulling away again.

“I have to take a quick shower,” he says. “Wait for me?”

You let out a sigh, turning to put away the ice cream. “Don’t take too long,” you joke, gesturing to the pints. “I’ve got two other men waiting for me.”

“Ha, ha,” he says, already halfway down the hall.

Out of the shower, he comes to you with damp hair curling softly around his head, dressed simply in a navy t-shirt and dark grey sweatpants, and looking so good you think you might combust. After a moment of flirtation—your room or mine?—you finally find yourself in his bedroom. He leans in to kiss you and he takes his time this time, cupping your face in his large hand, teasing gently at your mouth, sliding his tongue along yours to deepen the kiss. When he pulls away to trace his lips down your jawline, you take a breath to steady yourself—and then squint in confusion. There’s a familiar scent in his hair.

“Is that—did you use my shampoo?”

He goes still for a moment, caught, and then laughs.

“Mine ran out,” he admits, a little sheepishly. He pulls in closer, nosing at your neck. “Yours is nicer, anyway. I always like how it smells on you.”

“We can share,” you say generously. “I’ve never been one of those roommates who labels all their shit.”

“Good,” he murmurs, mouth hot against your collarbone. “‘Cause I also ate your leftovers.”

You make a sound of exasperation and he tackles you to the bed, promising apologetically that he’ll make it up to you. And then proceeds to do so.

Very thoroughly.

You awaken to find a note on the pillow next to you, in Frankie’s familiar printed handwriting: Going to pick up Baby M. See you soon.

You give yourself a minute to luxuriate in his bed, enjoying the calm, satiated feeling in your body, and the warm scent of him in the sheets, and then you straighten up his bedding and scurry back to your own room to get dressed before he arrives home with his daughter. You’re just pulling your shirt over your head when you hear their voices in the living room, and you go out to greet them. He’s juggling a Starbucks tray in one hand along with his keys and her travel bag. She’s munching contentedly on a snack and doing her part by carrying her favorite stuffed seal plushie.

Over her head, he shoots you a warm, intimate smile. You feel a giddy thrill bubble up in your chest and you grin back at him.

“We made a coffee run,” he says, nodding to the drinks. “Someone wanted a cake pop.” The toddler tips her face up to offer a beatific, icing-smudged smile. Frankie sets her bag on the couch and leads the three of you into the kitchen.

“That one is yours,” he tells you, pointing to one of the cups. Then, to her, “You want some real breakfast, mija?”

You look at the label on the drink and your jaw drops in surprise. “How did you know London Fogs are my favorite?”

He shrugs, like it’s not a big deal, but you catch a self-satisfied smile on his face as he turns away. “I notice things.”

He keeps a platonic distance while his daughter is in the kitchen but when she leaves to go put her stuffed animal away in her room, he pulls closer, nudging your hand with his. “You alright?” he murmurs.

You rub your thumb across his knuckles. “I’m really, really good.”

“I convince you not to move out?” he asks. You pretend to think about it.

“Almost. I think you could tip the balance if you make me some eggs.”

He clicks his tongue in affirmation. “Got it.”

Later, when the three of you have settled at the breakfast table with piles of fluffy scrambled eggs and buttered toast, his face changes like he’s just remembered something.

“Hey, how did that book end up, with Roderick and what’s-her-name?” he asks you, taking a sip of his coffee. “You never mentioned it after Monday night.”

You haven’t actually made it to the end yet, but you already know the answer.

“They lived happily ever after,” you tell him. “It’s a staple of the genre. The couple always has a happy ending.”

“Huh,” he says. He gives you a small, private smile, and taps his foot against yours, out of sight under the table. “That’s good to hear.”

#pedrostoriesgift22 #pedrostories #my fic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal #triple frontier #francisco morales

648 notes · View notes

eddies-house · 10 months

Text

Rockstar!Eddie x Reader Blurb

So this originated from this post by @uglypastels but I just wanted to start organizing my stuff because I'm def writing more and I need to have the lore and shit all in one place which is why I'm posting it here.

Basically, this is rockstar!eddie having this urgent need to spoil you, he tells you to quit your job because it's stressing you out so bad and he has the means to take care of you but you refuse. Lots of fluff, Eddie is a sweetie pie with a huge heart even after his band takes off

i can see like early on in the relationship you haven't moved in with him yet and still live in a little apartment in a shitty part of town and he swears you are the one like has never felt this way about anyone before but he really tries to refrain from suffocating you with his love because he doesn't wanna scare you away. As the relationship grows he hangs out at your apartment in the evenings when you come home from work exhausted and he just loves on you and gets you takeout cause you're so tired and life has just been stressing you out with all the bills and living paycheck to paycheck. He knows that struggle all too well from his upbringing and he can't stand seeing you suffer that way cause you're his baby and you deserve to be spoiled and treated like royalty.

You've been to his house before however you dont get to go over there a lot because of how much you're working but lets just say its fucking nice. It's not super big but its so homey and also screams eddie with the metal posters everywhere and guitars and such. He even has a little pool and a hot tub that you never get to enjoy with him because of how busy you are. He can't take it anymore, he feels like you're so beyond overworked and he will not have it.

One night you're laying in your bed with him complaining about work and all the bullshit thats been happening lately and hes just playing with your fingers, putting his rings on yours and then back on his, just back and forth fidgeting cause hes nervous to ask his question. As you're wrapping up a story from another shitty work situation you're like "that's so fucked up, right!? i've been keeping an eye out for a new job though so hopefully-" and he cuts you off cause no, you won't be getting a new job that will only stress you out, not if he can help it. "Move in with me." he says suddenly. You just turn to look at him like he's insane and before you can protest he's like "no, I'm serious. Move in with me. Let me take care of you, I can't watch you do this anymore." He's super sincere about it and his eyes are all big and pleading. You go on to tell him that you can't do that, you need to make it on your own and it lowkey turns into a fight. You're telling him that you're not going to rely on a man for your wellbeing and saying stuff like "do you think that lowly of me?!" and this is not how it was supposed to go, he just genuinely wants to see you happy and doing all the things you want to do that you never have time for because you're working.

He cups your cheeks in his hands and is like "baby, I think so highly of you, I just wanna give you the world. Please let me. Let me give you all the things I never imagined I'd ever be able to." You still get defensive about it cause he's not just asking you to move in, he's asking you to quit your job and basically run away from your current life which....that's not so bad cause your current life is shit but its also so scary because its the only normal you know so how could you just up and leave it?? You turn him down and let him know that you just can't and he respects your boundaries so after that he leaves it. He still hates how miserable you are but he still wants to be there for you as much as he can. It fucking sucks cause when your car starts acting up he just wants to take it in and get it fixed cause there would literally be no financial burden on him but for you, it would cost like months of rent. To work around it, he says he'll fix it cause he has so much experience with cars and even works on his own all the time. He has it towed to his house where he can use all his tools and stuff in his garage and while he could secretly just take it in somewhere to have it fixed, he doesn't want to upset you if you found out cause he knows you would try to pay him back and he knows you'd find a way to see how much it costs and it would just add to your stress. He doesn't mind doing it himself anyway, its therapeutic so he has it up and running again in a few days.

He loves that you're so independent but it doesn't change that he just wants to shower you with everything you could ever deserve. One day he waits for you at your apartment to come home from work, he has a key and everything and he's setting up a little after work dinner date, nothing too crazy but he brought over an expensive wine for you to try and he can't cook for shit but he's trying to learn so he makes spaghetti and meatballs for you. When you step in the door, he's all excited and running toward the door to greet you, the room actually smells really good and he even threw together some garlic bread and he's super proud of himself and he's excited to see your reaction. Only when he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks because there are tears and mascara streaming down your face and you have one of those frowns that you get when you're trying not to cry but the tears are stinging your eyes. He gathers that you cried all the way home and are trying to hold it together in front of him. He just rushes over and scoops you up to hold you on the couch in his lap and you can't contain the tears anymore, you just start sobbing into his chest while he rubs your back and soothes you. "I've got you, I'm right here." He doesn't even ask for an explanation, he's just there for you and he hopes that when you're ready, you'll tell him but if not, that's okay too.

You're still full on crying, snot and all when you pull back to tell him through a wobbling voice and sniffles "I-I can't do it anymore." And he has an idea of what you're referring to but he just nods with sympathy in his eyes. "Life sucks s-so bad. Don't wanna do it anymore." You would be hiccupping and getting yourself really worked up like almost not breathing. He would shush you gently and cradle your jaw in his hand, the tears slipping down into his hand and say "Baby, you need to breathe, okay? Gonna make yourself sick." and he would help you with little breathing exercises to kinda calm your nervous system. It would work a little but you're still super upset. He sparks an idea and if you yell at him again then so be it cause he just wants his baby to enjoy life and not come home crying more often than not. He would pull your head into his chest again and just whisper "Come live with me. Please. You can quit this job, find something new that you actually like." He tries to reason with you because he knows from last time that you would absolutely not just up and leave without any plans to help pay for things even though he won't allow it. "Eddie, I can't do that to you, I don't know how long it'll take me to find something decent." You would tell him sadly although its a much different reaction than last time because it sounds like you might be on board in some way if you could work things out how you needed. "Sweets, I can't watch you do this anymore. I'd much rather you quit and take some time to find something you actually love than stay here and be sad every day. Come stay with me, you don't even have to get rid of your apartment if you don't want to but just come stay with me and decompress. Let me spoil you a little bit while you figure it out. That's all I want." He sounds so genuine and is talking so softly its making you melt.

Eventually you work out a little deal where you'll stay at his house and search for work in the area. You use up the remaining money you have to keep paying rent on your apartment that you don't even use anymore. Secretly Eddie goes to the leasing office and pays off like a year's worth of rent and gives you your money back. "What this for?" you would ask as you looked at job listings while lounging around at his kitchen counter. He'd just shrug and kiss your cheek. "Don't worry about it." But you will most definitely worry about it. You get heated again and finally pull the information out of him and he admits that he got your money back and paid off a year for your apartment so you wouldn't have to give it up should you decide you don't want to stay with him permanently. It's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for you but you come at it raging because he shouldn't have to do this. You're trying to argue with him but he just grabs your hands calmly and is like "Listen. I had nothing growing up, I lived in a trailer park in the middle of nowhere." You're not really sure why he's going into this, you knew this from all the late night talks where you'd just lay in bed when neither of you could sleep. "I always had to decide if I wanted to eat or if I wanted to keep the lights on. And I'll be damned if I let you go through that or anything similar to that. I don't wanna spend my money on fancy designer shit or brand new cars. I want to spend it on you and making you comfortable and happy because now I can. I never thought I'd be able to do that for someone but I can now and you're my girl. Let me take care of you in the ways I never even dreamed I'd be able to take care of someone." You start crying again because what the fuck no one has ever been so sweet in your entire life and you're like what did I do to deserve this???

He's there wiping the tears away and nudging his nose against yours. You still don't want to give in but he's so damn sweet and he's being so vulnerable with you, this is something so personal to him. "I'm still getting a job and paying my half." You choke out. He just agrees because it'll make you happy but little do you know that whenever you give him any money he puts it aside in its own account for you. You end up working at a little flower shop and its beautiful, you get to be creative and you aren't stressed beyond your limits every single day. He visually sees that you're happier and you have this glow to you. One day you're both on his couch after he came home from a recording session and you worked late at the flower shop because you'd been working on some arrangements for a big event. You're both so tired and snuggly just watching some stupid movie while snacking. He's got you in between his legs and his thumb is stroking your hip, you both forget about the movie and just start talking about endless things. It comes up that you'd like to start your own little business some day, possibly your own flower shop that also sells cute little things from other small businesses (like soaps, art, etc.). Maybe even have a little coffee bar in it. He sees the way your eyes light up and he just smiles so softly down at you. He puts you both in a position where you're sitting criss cross in front of him and he's doing the same in front of you. "Let's do it then." he says like its the most obvious thing in the world. You scoff cause you don't have even a fraction of the money saved to start a business.

He pulls up a banking app on his phone and starts tapping his fingers away before setting the phone in your hands. You look at it all confused and he's just staring at you all dopey and cute but you have no idea why. He blurts out "It's yours. Every penny you've given me to cover bills. I put it away for you." You gasp when you realize how much money has built up in the account. You want to scream at him but you also know that he didn't do it against his will, he did it because he wanted to, he never does anything he doesn't want to. He's super stubborn even when it comes to his record label trying to tell him what to do. Again, the waterworks start and you collapse into him. He starts telling you "I know you don't like that I do things like this but you're my girl and I can't help it." He would press a kiss to the top of your head and you would pull back to look up at him and just grab him by his shirt so you could kiss him with so much emotion. That night you just make love to each other for hours, you can't keep your hands off each other. You don't know it but he's also planning on buying you a ring really soon and he's going to buy the one that he's seen you stare out when you've been out with him. It's a simple ring that's more dainty than anything and it doesn't even cost a lot, he just sees the way your eyes grow every time you pass that same shop and see it in the window and he knows that he's going to get it for you.

After that night you have less trouble letting him do things for you. Obviously you avoid it if you can but you don't scold him every time he slides his credit card over to pay for things or when you find out he's paid off a loan you had taken out a long time ago for that time you went to cosmetology school a few years ago that didn't end up working out. Suddenly the balance is zero and when you call to clear it up they tell you its been paid off. You make sure to give him the best head of his life but then also complain a little because you feel guilty that he took care of it. He shushes you by shoving his face in between your legs.

~end~

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddiemunson #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson au

189 notes · View notes

angelicsjn · 1 year

Note

What are the guys ideal first dates?

YOUR FIVE YANDERES

— ROMAN CORNELIUS JAMES BEAUREGARD.

Roman is a man of taste, fine taste at that!

In a general and sweet relationship, the ideal relationship he will take you around the world as he races, kissing you in front of the crowds and cameras after he wins and then taking you out on the night life.

Monaco nights on yachts drinking champagne, Paris nights in pretty restaurants, Italy walks while eating ice cream and holdings hands, ignoring the cameras.

Roman would take you to events, fashion, and sporting events. Taking you to golf when he gets offered to play for charity. His dates usually revolve around his work. He's so busy and rarely finds free time, so he makes sure to include you in as much as he can.

During the winter breaks, you go skiing and snowboarding with him, living in expensive cabins for a few weeks. Away from the world where you both can be yourselves.

In the Summer, you experience all the great things the hotter countries have to offer. Visiting all the historical places in Greece, going on hikes and falling asleep during mindnumbing professional massages.

He lives expensively, and he wants to share all these moments with you.

As for the first date? A fancy meal made by a private chef on one of his yachts in Monaco. Candles, sunsets, nice music, perfect meal. He even knew your favourite meal, how sweet.

— LATEN REED.

Laten is a lot more lowkey than our Formula 1 star. He's a university student who spends most of his time in the gym, training and playing rugby, so when he gets a break from studying and rugby, he takes advantage of it.

He loves simple dates: cinema, arcade, fast food restaurants, walks around the town, and the nature reserves nearby.

For his ego, he likes gym dates. You don't even have to join in, give him compliments and boost his confidence.

His most favourite type of dates is ordered food, shitty movies while in bed with you. Facemasks, he lets you do his nails and eyebrows too, likes to relax and gives you small kisses as you pamper each other. Cuddles with you and traces his fingers across your back as you sleep and he feels so happy you feel comfortable enough to sleep by him. <3

Laten is a gigantic sweetheart and loves nothing more than to spend time with you. Anywhere is a good date for him. Even if it's at McDonald's, if it's with you, he likes it.

As for the first date? You watch him at one of his matches. Instead of him celebrating with his team, he whisks you away to his favourite restaurant, its small and tucked away in the town, a hidden gem. He pays for everything, you dance to the music together and he walks you home, both giggly from the drinks.

— JAE 'NIKO' LEE.

Due to being a famous idol, he has to be discreet. Wearing masks, caps, and oversized hoodies. To you, he's Jae. To the world, he's Niko, and he doesn't want to mix those two identities.

Jae likes late night dates. Late night drives around the city, stopping at drive thrus, eating food as he drives, and then watching the sky from the hills where it's quiet.

Karaoke dates where he rents the room out for as long as he can so you both can privately spend time together, dancing, eating, singing and enjoying your time together.

In the summer, you drive out as far as possible, in nature with a picnic where it's sunny and bright and without risk of being caught. He takes advantage of the countryside during the summer, knowing it'll be only you both where he doesn't have to be anyone but himself.

When he gets days off, he stays in bed, forcing you to stay in bed with him as long as possible, cuddling you and pressing kisses against your shoulders. Following you around the place like a lost puppy because if he's got a day off, he will be glued by your side. No matter what.

As for the first date? He picks you up and takes you out to a private restaurant where he buys a separate room to have your privacy. He then drives around with you, doing some sightseeing since he's rarely able to go out at all unless with security.

— KAIDAN ALEXANDER WOLFE.

He's a showoff, anywhere the cameras will be. Influencer interviews on the sidewalks where he holds your hand extra tight. Even if you're shy, he'll show you off, "Yeah, we're on a date." Kaidan is nonchalant about it, but he shows you off as much as he can.

Photobooth pictures he posts on his story, clubs and bars where he holds onto your waist and uses the crowds as an excuse to hold onto you, Italian restaurants where he kisses your knuckles gently, sharing kisses that taste of wine.

Kaidan takes you to his events, dressing you up, matching you with his fit, and making sure the headlines will state how you're the best-looking couple.

Takes you to big family dinners, holding your hand under the table and showing off any and all of your accomplishments. Slow dancing with you as his family secretly plan your wedding, because they've never seen Kaidan so in love before.

As for the first date? He takes you out to an event, something he knew you'd like. Even though it's the first date, and you weren't officially dating, he allows photos to be spread around with the title: 'Kaidan Wolfe's New Relationship?' Hard to say no to him when the world said yes.

— HAYDEN WEST.

The sweetest of them all, in my opinion.

He makes lists based on what you like. All his dates are things he knew you'd like.

Do you like art? He knows a few great museums. Books? There's this amazing bookstore nearby. He's been there before and loved it. Walks in nature? He loves nature, too. He can take photos while out! Clubs and bars? Not his thing, but if you like it, so does he!

He does everything in your favour, sort of let's you decide.

But if he had full control, he'd pick simple bookstore dates and cafe dates, especially cat cafes. Museums, historical and artistic, anywhere you could possibly both learn something. He's a nerd at heart and definitely pulls you out to see all the new Marvel and DC movies.

As for the first date? Definitely a picnic by the local river, he buys non-alcoholic wine, all your favourite foods and snacks, he knows them all. Even if you never actually told him that..

#darling reader #darlingcore #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you

247 notes · View notes

strawhbrrries · 11 months

Text

Hell on Heels, part two.

pairing: rhett abbott x tillerson!afab!reader

summary: you made the devil a deal; he made you pretty, he made you smart and rhett abbott she’s coming after you.

warnings: everyone calls reader ‘honey’, sweet rhett but also asshole rhett, the tillersons (they need their own warning tbh but i love a good forbidden romance), unprotected p in v, car sex, a wee bit of rhett begging, no use of y/n or description of reader, not proofread

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: eventually I want them to have sex in a place that isn’t rhett’s truck, i started writing the next part for this before this was even finished so!!! this isn’t nearly as good as the last part but it sets me up for a great third part. as always, enjoy!!!

read the first part here!

You slipped a coin in the jukebox that sat in the corner of the Pit Bar, flipping through the songs before landing on Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood. A small smile replacing the previous frown you had as the music started over the speakers. Your frown was the result of Rhett Abbott, he’d apparently fucked you and forgotten to text you. The girls had brought you out, their treat, in a desperate attempt to get THE Honey Tillerson back to her normal self.

“Wait so he actually fucked you?” Ash whispered across the table as you sat back down, taking a sip of the mixed drink in her hand as she awaited for your answer with bated breath.

“Mhm, nice and good. It was all hot and sweaty too, after the rodeo y'know?” You giggled, feeling like a schoolgirl with the way they were treating this.

To be far, this was a long time coming. You’d been after this man for as long as any of them could remember, unconditionally loyal to a man who wasn’t that way for you. To them, hearing that he’d finally kissed you and then fucked you is truck was the news of the century. Especially in a small town like Wabang.

“He finally grew some balls I guess, shoulda done that the second you told him to his face you were gonna marry him. Freshman year, remember?” Taylor teased, poking you in your side as you covered your face in embarrassment.

“I am never living that down, you guys bring it up like everytime we talk about him.” You groaned, burying your face further into your hands and distorting your words slightly. “Besides, he totally choked it. He hasn’t texted me since that night. And guess what Luke told me this morning? Rhett and Maria were caught going to the motel, the same fuckin’ night he fucked me.”

“That whore, what the fuck!” Ash whisper-yelled, dropping her jaw open at the bombshell of news. “I’m gonna need another fuckin’ drink if you keep droppin’ bombs like this, Honey.”

“Yeah, I’ve made some sort of peace with it. I’ve been second to her our entire lives, shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up about it.” You shrugged, taking a sip of the drink in front of you and making direct eye contact with none other than the man you were speaking about.

The news had initially hurt when Luke told you. Then you thought about it and realized that you simply were never going to be better than Maria, she wasn’t at fault here and being upset with the other woman did you no good. Your knuckles had gone white when the words left your brother’s mouth, how could you have reacted any other way? You’d finally slept with the one man you’d been yearning for your entire life only to find out he then slept with someone else directly after. Didn’t she smell you on him? See the red lipstick peppered on his skin or the collar of his shirt?

“Tay, come sing with me?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at the girl sitting next to you, even pouting your lips for extra measure.

“Cowboy Casanova?” She asked, smiling happily when you shook your head yes.

It was the perfect ‘revenge’ song, Carrie knew how to write her songs and she had rent to pay with this one. The bar had finally started to pick up and it was simply the perfect moment to, subtly, call Rhett out on his actions. Sure he had no ties to you but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give you basic respect and tell you he didn’t want you the way you wanted him. You made sure the cowboy hat, a new one you had bought earlier today, was snug on your head and your makeup was still in place before dragging Taylor up to the stage with you. The drinks had started to feel nice and warm, tipsy was the only time you’d openly sing like this. Especially such a directed song like this one.

“You better take it from me, that boy is a disease.” You sang loudly, making direct eye contact with Rhett who had his arm around Maria next to him.

His face screwed up at the lyrics once he learned you were singing about him, and to him. Maria whispered something in his ear, making a face you couldn’t quite decipher when he shook his head yes and whispered something back to her.

“He’s a curse, he’s like a drug. You get addicted to his love.” The two of your voices harmonizing beautifully, prancing around the stage and captivating the audience in a way that seemed to anger Rhett. But, unlike him, the audience simply thought you were performing to have a good time and not to get back at him.

The group of girls you came with had started chanting your names, whooping and hollering from the table they sat at, being your biggest fans without getting swallowed in the sea of bar patrons.

“I see that look on your face, you ain’t hearing what I say.” Is the lyric that caused Rhett and Maria to get up and storm out of the bar, not another soul in the place giving a single shit that his masculinity had been hurt by a Carrie Underwood song.

You finished the song off with a bang, bowing with Taylor as the crowd gave you a standing ovation. It was the most thrilling thing you’d done all week and you loved it, it felt nice to let him know he wasn’t shit. He called you Hell on Heels and you’d be damned if you didn’t live up to it, you were coming for him. The girls gave the two of you another round of hollers as you approached the table.

“Did you see them storm out?” Ash giggled, tilting her head towards the table they had previously been sitting at.

“Don’t be a two timin’ bitch next time.” You smiled, taking the last sip of your drink and basking in the glory of what just happened You’d finally actually stood up for yourself and damn if it didn’t feel fucking good.

You’d spent your entire night at the bar, chatting with the girls about anything and everything between. Mostly gossiping about the look Maria had on her face when she realized you were singing about Rhett. The rest of your family had been asleep when you got home, it made it way easier to go to your room without a million questions about who, why, when and where. You hung up your hat on the rack right inside the door of your room, taking in a deep breath before exhaling shakily. Yeah, it felt good to tell Rhett off that way but you still had some love for him and that would never change. The whole situation was a little heartbreaking for you. You were hopeful that dreamland would fix all your problems, take you to a world where he only wanted you.

“Rhett Abbott is at the door sayin’ he needs to speak with you.” Billy’s tone laced with confusion, anytime one of the boys showed up at the door it was never for you, looking over at where you sat on the couch.

You got up from the couch and walked to the door, giving Billy a look that said ‘please give me a second’ and he walked off. Turning your attention to the man on your porch you wanted to burst into laughter, he was pissed and you knew why.

“We need to talk.” Rhett stated, arms crossed as he waited for you to step outside.

“About what, because if you wanna talk about what happened at the Pit Bar I distinctly remember you leavin’ with someone who wasn’t me.” You closed the door behind you and leaned up against it, waiting for him to get to whatever the hell his point was.

“I’m not your boyfriend, Honey-“

“Exactly, so why are you here?” You cut him off, raising your eyebrows at him, ready to tell him if that’s what he came to say it could’ve been a text.

“What?” This time he was confused, not expecting you to have agreed with him right off the bat.

“You’re not my boyfriend, so why are you here? You’re angry that I did what I wanted at the bar yet you get to run off with Maria the second you don’t want to deal with me. You’re not my boyfriend but you wanna fuck me in your truck after you win finals, don’t forget you took Maria to a motel after bein’ with me.” Your words were calm, too angry to give him the satisfaction of seeing your emotions. His eyes got big at the mention of the motel, he was trying to figure out how the hell you knew. “Luke told me, don’t sneak around in a small town and think it won’t get around.”

“Don’t you dare bring her into this. This is between the two of us.” He hissed, pointing a finger in your face.

“Have you no respect for me, Rhett Abbott? You don’t get to sneak around with the both of us. Have you no respect for Maria? Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” You rolled your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose, choosing to ignore the finger in your face to save whatever dignity he hadn’t taken.

“Honey-“

“No, Rhett. It’s my turn to speak. I’ve been second fuckin’ best to Maria my entire life, every single turn she was unintentionally one upping me. I don’t deserve this shit, Rhett. If I wanted a man who couldn’t commit I’d take notes from some other girl in town, that night in your fuckin’ truck gave me a single sliver of hope that I’d finally come out on top. That you’d finally decide I was the one. So much for bein’ a good luck charm. Good bye, Rhett Abbott.”

You turned around and slammed the door in his face, locking it behind you before he got any ideas to come in after you. Unbeknownst to you, he’d come to apologize. He’d realized the way he acted on both the nights you mentioned was unacceptable, he was going to man up and say he was sorry but you went off on him. Told him to shut up and didn’t give him a chance to speak. He placed his fist on your front door and laid his head down next to it before he realized you really weren’t coming back outside and he walked away.

“What’d he want?” Billy asked, he’d taken your spot on the couch and was now eating the breakfast you had previously prepared for yourself.

“To talk.” Is all you responded with, as much as you wanted to confide in him all your words would make it back to Luke. That was something you absolutely didn’t want to deal with, so you opted for pretending everything was fine and dandy instead.

You found yourself hesitating when you went to block Rhett’s number, for some reason you just couldn’t fucking do it. All the what ifs flooded your mind and no matter how angry you were with him, you’d always be one call away. Ready to make everything feel okay, even for just five minutes before he found solace inside another girl. You threw your phone on your bed with a frustrated groan, trying to think of all the ways he went from praising you in his truck to being the biggest asshole you knew. That was hard to beat when you had one for a brother.

You decided not to dwell on it and get ready for the day ahead of you, you had nothing planned but if you knew one thing it was that you didn’t live a boring life. By the time you’d finished getting ready and had eaten something, making sure Billy didn’t get to it when you turned your back, your phone had been blown up by your girlfriends asking if you wanted to go to the bar tonight. Of course, you said yes. You double checked your makeup and made your way down to the bar that took Rhett Abbott away from you, he did it himself but the bar solidified it.

“Hey sweet girl, Honey.” Ash greeted you, kissing your cheek as you sat in the same booth you always did when your group attended the bar.

“Always so welcoming.” You smiled, scoping out the place as you sat. Your eyes landed on none other than Rhett Abbott, and god did he look handsome. His signature cowboy hat wasn’t what got you, it was the small tufts of hair sticking out of the side untamed. “I didn’t know moving on from him was going to be so damn hard.”

“I mean, you did fuck him like three days ago. Let yourself live.” Taylor pointed out, rubbing your back in support.

“True but he just looks so…fuckable.” You pouted, watching him tilt his head back in laughter.

“So are you and look where it got him.” Ash took a sip of her beer, eyeing you up playfully. “Fuck him one more time to get him out of your system.”

You contemplated what she said for the rest of the night, your attention remaining on Rhett when it could be. You noticed Maria was here too, but not once had she interacted with Rhett or made any indication that she wanted to speak to him. He hadn’t paid her any attention either. His attention was on you everytime you weren’t looking at him, he wasn’t a man to grovel but you were making him reconsider it all. Your anger at him this morning turned him on a bit, not that he’d admit that to anyone other than himself. After failing to apologize he’d given Maria a call, called it off with her completely. He told her the plain old truth, that sneaking around with her wasn’t worth it when he could be with you and feel on top of the goddamn world. He felt no shame or guilt after he did, almost contemplated telling you what he’d done just to prove a point to no one but himself.

“Can we talk?” Rhett asked, walking up to your table of girls and staring directly at you. Admiring the low cut of your shirt and the way your red lipstick had slightly smudged from the straw in your drink.

“Uhm, sure. I’ll be back ladies.” You smiled at the girls before giving them a confused look and scooting out of the booth, following Rhett out of the bar and to the side of his truck.

“I came to your house to apologize this mornin’, Honey.” He spoke softly, no longer the stoic man he was just a minute ago. You took in a deep breath as you contemplated his words. “I called it off with Maria, all the way off. Honey, I need it to be you.”

“Rhett-”

“Look, let me talk this time.” He mocked your words from this morning, a small smile playing on his lips as he spoke.

“Okay, hit me.” You spoke softly, unsure of where this conversation was going and if you were going to lose your pants by the end of it. You counted on the fact that you’d end up folded in half in his backseat.

“I came to apologize for how idiotic I was, for one sneaking behind your back. I’ve been stringin’ you along for awhile and I shouldn’t, you’ve been nothin’ but faithful and supportive of everythin’ I’ve done. Secondly, for storming out of the bar and just bein’ an ass in general. You blew up at me before I could say anythin’ else, which is valid because the first thing out of my mouth was ‘i’m not your boyfriend’ and i’ve regretted it all fuckin’ day. Honey, I want- fuck I need to be your boyfriend. If you aren’t ready I’ll wait for you-”

You cut off his words by smashing your lips to his, you’d think over his words later and truly process them when you weren’t so incredibly turned on by an idiot saying he needed to be your boyfriend. This was probably as affectionate as Rhett was able to be and you’d happily take it. Your hands intertwined themselves with the hair on the back of his head, pushing your body completely against his. His hands found themselves at your waist, holding you still as he bit your bottom lip and explored the inside of your mouth with his tongue when you gasped.

“Rhett.” You whined against his lips, pulling at his hair softly in a plea to get him to do what you wanted but you weren’t even sure what that was.

“I know, sweet girl. I know.” He whispered, disconnecting your lips and pulling back to admire the fading love bite he gave you last time. “C’mon, in the truck.”

He helped you get in the backseat, positioning you on his lap once again. Your lips found his again while your hips ground down against his, both of you groaning at the action. His hands tangled themselves in your hair, tugging on it slightly to get you to lean your head back and give him access to your neck. He placed open mouth kisses from the top of your jaw to the end of your neck, nipping occasionally and soothing it with his tongue. Rhett was rock hard the second he saw you walk into the bar hours ago, but you grinding down on him had him harder than he was the first time he had you in his truck.

You fumbled with the buckle of his belt, your fingers slipping and not quite able to get it in your frenzy to remove his pants. A small cry escaped before Rhett shushed you, placed a kiss to the top of your head, and unbuckled his belt. He lifted you up just enough for him to get his jeans pushed down around his ankles, relishing in the fact that his dick wasn’t heavily compressed in his jeans.

Immediately you went to sink to your knees, went to pull his boxers down and put him in your mouth like you’d been waiting to do since the first time you slept together.

“No.” He rasped, holding you where you were.

“What?”

“Need to be inside of you, right now. Don’t have time for that.” He groaned, yanking your jeans and underwear down in one yank.

You shook your head yes and kicked your jeans off, straddling his waist and unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing just enough to see the tattoo on his chest. You traced it, admiring it.

“Honey, please.” Rhett begged, his chest flushing red.

The fact that you had him underneath you begging would forever be one of the best things you ever accomplished, you absolutely would not tell the girls about it though. It would be your little secret. You would probably think of it every night you had your hands down your pants, cumming to the thought of him.

You stroked him a few times before lining him up with your entrance and slowly sliding down.

“Fuck, Honey. I love you.” He groaned, laying his head against the back of the seat.

You froze, did he just? What the fuck. You loved him too but this was supposed to be a one and done for you, but you were now realizing he thought you were- oh no. Should you say it back? Pretend like you never heard him? Make a noise to acknowledge him?

Rhett on the other hand was now beating the shit out of himself internally because how could he say that shit out loud. All he was doing was making the situation worse between the two of you by putting you in this weird limbo.

The both of you elected to ignore the fact that he said it, instead focusing on how you were bouncing on top of him. One of your hands braced against the back window and the other softly planted on his chest, using him as leverage.

“Lean back, I wanna ride the bull.” You whispered into his ear, getting a small laugh in response. Both of you exchanging small smiles.

He eventually got tired of the pace you had set, wrapped both his arms around your lower back and set his own pace. Thrusting up into you like it was his full time job. Holding you close to him, like he sensed that you were debating not seeing him again. He’d made up his mind about you and you made up yours, but they contradicted. He didn’t want to let you go and yet, you knew you had to. Maybe. Rhett would always be your kryptonite, deep down you knew you’d always find yourself back with him but if you never gave yourself a chance to find ‘better’ would you ever regret it?

He painted your insides white with a low groan and a mumble of Fuck, Honey. You weren’t far behind him, your walls clenching around him as your orgasm washed over you. He didn’t let you go or pull out, he just stayed there. Enjoying some sense of normalcy before you both left his truck and things could change, maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. He wasn’t taking his chances, not when it came to his sweet ol’ Honey.

#maddies fics #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbot smut #lewis pullman #rhett abbott #rhett abbot x reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fic #outer range #outer range smut

225 notes · View notes