#Adjacent joint
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7greentears · 3 months ago
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"Cracking of my knuckles, against my neck. My jaw, leaking matter."
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go-see-a-starwar · 7 months ago
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Hayden Christensen and Katee Sackhoff attend the Hulu on Disney+ Plus celebration. April 5, 2024
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kaxen · 2 years ago
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Tinyfox Fibonacci box opening
After much fussing because UPS missed the expected delivery time
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Her underskirt doesn't stay on her boobs well at all and apparently comes with nipnop tape
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Her eyewells are snug AF. only one eye needed eye putty
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The fact she doesn't come with a crown like in the promo photos is a crime. I will 3D print one as soon as the weather stops being cold and wet
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I love the butterfly wings
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Lilly thinks it's for her
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I really like the texture of vinyl, but I am not sure if I like the mechanical ball joints as much as strung ball joints.
The clothing quality is good.
Going back to small light dolls, standing is so much easier compared to my big heavy men.
My larger dolls weigh 5-10 pounds.
She is 1.5 pounds.
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nyandela-catalogue · 8 months ago
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after a little over 2 and a half hours, i finally finished my portrait of the Actor. i opted to go for its stringless form, since that made the most sense for a general reference image.
i decided i’d post the versions with and without the wood grain:
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[If you want it to move, be patient and earn its trust. It doesn’t have much to spare, so be very kind if you wish for it to let you into its little world.]
-Adam📹
p.s. my hands hurt so bad from working on this dawg, holy crap xD
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1moreoffkeyanthem · 8 months ago
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I feel like karma is real bc I post the goddamn style smut in which Kyle’s also having a flare up w his bad knee and lo and behold I wake up and my shoulders fuckin killing me
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opalsiren · 11 months ago
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a local bar which i really love that does food i can actually eat recently shut its doors and i'm 😞 not only that but i fully made a booking there with a friend and we rocked up last night and the place was all shut up!!!!! it sucks for me bc it was one of the few local places i could eat at which means i now have to hike into town which takes three times as long if i wanna go out like. all this to say having mobility and food issues suck big time. that said i easily could have stress shopped about this online last night and i didn't everyone clapped!!!!!!!!!!!!
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courtingchaos · 2 years ago
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playingplayer2 · 2 months ago
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I did somethingggggg idk what in the last 45 minutes that fucked up my finger I don't know what I didddddddddd
(my best guess is I fucking subluxated the fucking thing but I don't typically have that happen especially not on my left hand, usually my shoulders, ribs, hips, knees, and toes get all fucked like this but I guess I get to enjoy the every time I shift even a little bit so does my hand
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ravensrevcnge · 4 months ago
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Time skip and continued here
Feeling him sweep away the tear, Elizabeth felt more comforted than embarrassed. How long had it been since she’d given herself the release of tears in front of someone she trusted? Too long. She wished they could have a few moments to let herself be the little sister again, to let him comfort her if he would, but they didn’t have time.
Not now.
Not with the town screaming, burning, dying . . .
She drew in another unnecessary breath and nodded in understanding. “I’ll meet you there,” she promised, determination pushing away her panic. No matter what, she wouldn’t let her brother down. Giving herself one more moment before leaving, she lifted herself up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Be careful,” she ordered. “Please be careful.”
With that, she turned and darted away, her entire focus on finding her sister and getting to the Peak. Even if she couldn’t find Nessa, she would go to the Peak and add her strength to the fight.
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scottstiles · 1 year ago
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why is goodbye stranger a song about quitting smoking?
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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago
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Okay, so maybe Tim has no business being in Bludhaven. Tim maintains that since his parents fail at parenting, he can do whatever he wants.
Besides, it's for a good cause. Like, not letting Tarantula get her dirty hands on his big brother in another time line. Tarantula had popped up in the Bludhaven servers - by that, Tim means the endless amounts of threads and underground fronts for criminal activity that he stalks on a regular basis- by being seen with Nightwing. Tim had immediately booked a ride to Bludhaven and bought another burner. He'd try to take care of her himself, but if worse comes to worse, he'd call Deathstroke. He's totally aware of the weird tension Deathstroke has with Nightwing and Tim's kind of banking on that.
Dick's been back in Blud for two months now, Jason having assuaged his mother hen tendencies enough for Dick to get sick of the Manor. Tim hadn't meant to follow since he had plenty of projects to work on now that "SAVE JASON" wasn't blaring at the top of his head.
But then Tarantula appeared and Tim saw red, remembering the way Dick spoke about her and what she did to him.
He bids the driver goodbye. The driver doesn't question his being on his lonesome mainly because 1) Gothamites mind their own busines, 2) Tim gave him a $500 tip to make sure he remains a "good" Gothamite cabbie, and 3) Tim made sure he was dropped off in the swankiest, most ostentatious hotel Bludhaven had to offer.
"Rich people," the cab driver had muttered as Tim closed the door. Perfect.
Tim got his keycard, having checked in under Alvin Draper over the phone. Normally, they'd require an in person visit, but money talks. And people listened when Tim had a lot of things to say.
Tim even feels like he's trained enough to go out! Lady Shiva's training was ingrained into his memory, and Tim's built enough muscle to make use of some of it. He is still nine, after all. He's so much stealthier this time around. Plus, he's got almost his full tool set back. Sure, some of the tech is ancient, but he managed to finagle it to make grappling guns and smoke pellets more along the quality that he's used to.
Tim waits until nightfall, looping the surveillance around his window to mask his exit. Tim adjusts his domino, eyes scanning the city skyline as his handheld computer (god, he can't believe he has to invent wrist computers) tracked reports of Nightwing through Tweetings.
Ah. He's around Seventh. Tim grimaces as his untested joints adjusts to the grappling guns. His dark clothes make him hard to spot, to his advantage as he tracks down Nightwing.
Tim watches, perched on an adjacent roof as Nightwing takes down a crowd of goons with the flips Tim remembered watching from afar and up close in another timeline.
"Blockbuster'll kill everyone you love, Nightwing!"
Tim winces at the rather brutal crunch that followed, Nightwing having punched the guy and knocked him out in one move. He watches Dick sigh, tugging at his hair in stress.
Tim could... no, no. He shouldn't think of murder as a first option. Well, no, he shouldn't think of Deathstroke as a first option. But he'll need to take Blockbuster out before anything happens. And he needs to threaten the new Tarantula before anything happens. He won't allow her to even get close to Dick.
Maybe it's unfair to punish her for a crime she hasn't done, but unlike murder, rape can never be defended. Catalina Flores is a dead woman walking.
Tim stalks his big brother back home and then broke off to begin his short reign of terror over Bludhaven's underground. If he can't get Dick to take a break (and Tim's tried, a lot, over the years) then he'll make sure that the next month is as gentle as possible on his older brother.
Step 1. Murder Take care of Blockbuster
Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.
No. Wait. Tim has a better idea. He's got dirt on them, on top of the murder thing. He'll fabricate Catalina's tax returns, embezzle a shit ton of money from the IRS, and get her and her corrupt brother (because getting your sister out from murder charges is considered corrupt) arrested and locked away. And he'll make sure they stay locked away with some good old blackmail on Amanda Waller.
Tim grins, tranquilizing the building with an ungodly amount of knock out gas pellets, to riffle through the police precinct's files.
Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.
Step 2. Cripple Catalina Flores and her brother with blackmail and the IRS.
In three hours, Tim has everything he needs to begin a temporary hostile takeover. He's got the names of local mob bosses, the big players, and the names of practically every police officer that takes bribes and their... sponsors.
He'll have to cut off Blockbuster's lines of supplies first. Then, blacklist him from local suppliers, mobilize the police precinct against him (by imitating his M.O. perfectly- Tim's not a fucking amateur- and pretending to rob the precinct blind), and then break his knees.
Step 3. Profit
Tim takes out his shiny new burner phone, enjoying the loud sounds of the police squawking through his planted bugs. He lounges on the building next to it, keeping an eye out for Nightwing just in case the man decides to respond to the crisis.
[Unknown: It's RR.]
[Deathstroke: New phone?]
[RR: Who dis?]
[Deathstroke: What?]
[RR: Nevermind. I'll give you forty thousand to shoot someone's knees out.]
[Deathstroke:... That's it? Who?]
[RR: Blockbuster. Bludhaven. Extra twenty thousand if you tell him he's got the spine of a sea slug, kick him in the balls, and post it on Tweeting.]
[Deathstroke: What did he do to you? Deal.]
Tim ignored Deathstroke's question.
[RR: Half sent. Confirm?]
[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Timeline?]
[RR: Three weeks. 21 days.]
[Deathstroke: Confirmed.]
----
Tim grins ferally, all teeth as Catalina Flores looked on in horror at her computer screen.
"Get out of Bludhaven, and don't come back. If you even think of going near Nightwing, I will rip what's left of your pathetic, sniveling swine of a brother apart. You will not enjoy the consequences."
Tim clicks off, watching Catalina and her brother launch themselves into mad packing. He tapped out a short message to Amanda Waller for her and her team to intercept them at the state lines. They'll never get away from Tim's fury. Never.
[Waller: It's done.]
[Waller: I will find you.]
[RR: You can definitely try, Waller. Good doing business with you.]
Tim can see the blood vessel the woman popped after he sent that last message. He laughs.
He saves Deathstroke's video from Tweeting onto his actual, spoofed phone. He destroys the burner phone, less shiny now that he's dragged it through two and a half weeks of breaking heads and terrorizing the Bludhaven Underground. Nightwing hadn't even gotten a whiff of his activities, this Dick being far less experienced and known in this version of Blud.
One more week and Tim can continue his other projects.
----
Nightwing, going about his vigilante business: wow it sure is peaceful
Feral Tim Drake, Nightwing's scary dog privilege: try me, bitch
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frecklenog · 1 year ago
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as someone with a special interest in prosthetics, i absolutely love that finn is shown with multiple different prostheses throughout fionna and cake. main finn (who has a transhumeral amputation) has an everyday arm with three fingers (like the one he had in at, though it also has exposed sensor wires), an adventuring arm with a claw hand and a socket that covers and protects his residual limb (coupled with a spaulder, though that might be a more general thing), and an older arm that seems to have been a mix of the two, though with a more limited hinge joint at the elbow as opposed to what appears to be some sort of ball-and-socket-adjacent elbow. (i wonder how those work exactly… maybe they’re magnetic? or the everyday arm might have a hinge that connects to a pivot/swivel joint…)
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but it’s not even limited to our main boy, because farmworld finn (who has a shoulder disarticulation) also has multiple arm attachments for various occasions!! he uses the classic claw/axe double feature for most of the episode, but the sword arm he was given by choose bruce hangs on his wall (pretty busted up and still connected to the humeral portion, indicating that he continued to use it and possibly still does from time to time), and of course the flamethrower!! (i wonder if he made it himself…)
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littlexdeaths · 6 months ago
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scotty doesn’t know - e.m. ii.
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eddie munson x fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: all characters are 18+, some angst, no use of y/n, cheating, protective eddie, shitty boyfriend behavior, unwanted touches/advances, underage drinking/partying, grinding, fingering, light praise kink, biting, unprotected piv sex, cream pie
series masterlist
based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra
a/n: god i feel like this took me forever, so apologies for that. but i just need to thank both @undead-supernova and @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me so much with getting this fic put back together. i love you both so so much. 🥹💕
word count: 8.3k
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Out of all the places you wanted to be on a Friday night, Jason Carver’s house wasn’t one of them.
The party was in full swing, music blasting from the speakers in the living room. Red solo cups and beer cans littered every available surface, as your classmates drank without a care in the world. Between the loud, synthy pop music and the constant chattering, you felt incredibly overwhelmed.
Parties were never really your scene.
You wanted nothing more than to go home and put on a film for the night. But dating a popular basketball player brought you out of your comfort zone more often than not. While that could be seen as a good thing, it was the opposite in this case. You never got to do things that you wanted, the plans always revolving around Scott.
However, there was one good thing about the party tonight. Or rather— someone.
Eddie Munson.
He’d kept his distance of course, so as not to raise any alarm bells with anyone. Most likely using the excuse of a good sale to be there in the first place. If anyone bothered to ask him. He rested his shoulder against the living room wall, a bag of freshly rolled joints clutched in his hand.
Eddie had surrounded himself with Robin and Steve the entire night, looking like he wanted to be there even less than you did. You can’t help but steal glances at each other from across the room.
Eddie looks good—he always does. His long curls are tied back in a low bun, sporting his signature ripped jeans and a Metallica shirt that hugs his broad shoulders nicely. You’ve wanted nothing more than to jump his bones the moment you got a chance to be alone.
The idea of sneaking off with him to one of the many guest rooms became more tempting as the party raged on.
You’ve secluded yourself on the sofa in the living room, adjacent to the makeshift dance floor. Thankful that most people are having too much fun to notice you there. You’ve been slowly sipping on a now watered down mixed drink, finding yourself feeling less and less in the party mood. However, your boyfriend seems to have other plans.
Scott is plastered. Irritatingly so.
You spent most of the night hiding from him, knowing how handsy he liked to get when he was drunk.
And as much as you’ve tried to pretend that everything was fine with Scott, your ability to fake it has become much harder. Especially knowing what you could be having instead.
So for the past week you’d avoided being alone with the basketball star. Ever since that fateful phone call the weekend prior. While you had still gone to the party that night, Scott eventually noticed something was up with you. Mostly due to the fact that you hadn’t let him touch you in over a week.
That was the driving force behind his drinking rampage tonight. The male had done 3 keg stands (that you’d witnessed) since he’d been here, on top however many beers he’d consumed. You’re exactly sure, but it’s the worst you’ve ever seen him.
Part of you does feel guilty, but a bigger part of you is starting to care less and less.
Ironically, Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money starts playing the moment he finds you again. But going anywhere with him is by far the last thing you wanted to do. The male slurs along to the track as he plops down next to you, nearly spilling his entire drink in your lap.
You can’t hide the grimace on your face as he leans into you, his breath reeking of stale beer. You grab the cup out of his hand before it spills everywhere. Huffing in annoyance as you set it down on the side table.
You really aren’t in the mood to play babysitter.
Scott’s hands, now empty, immediately grab at your hips to pull you in closer. His lips easily find your neck, the feeling of his hot breath making your skin crawl. You gently shove him off, but he leans back into your space immediately.
Normally you’d let him wear himself out, but you really don’t feel like it tonight.
“Scott, come on stop,” you sigh, no longer able to hide the irritation in your voice.
But your boyfriend is clearly not listening, continuing to press sloppy kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbone. A muffled moan leaves him as he guides your hand onto his lap.
You’re no longer able to conceal the alarmed expression that appears on your face as you tug your hand away. “I mean it, Scott.” He just groans in annoyance, feeling his fingers hook into the loop of your jeans.
“You’re too drunk, I said knock it off,” your voice drips with malice, despite how panicked you feel.
The male would always listen if you ever told him off, but his current state of intoxication clearly overtakes any rational thought.
“Oh come on, babe. We haven’t fucked in over a week, I have needs,” he slurs.
Before you have the chance to respond, the weight of his body disappears. You quickly glance up, your eyes widening in shock. Eddie has pulled your boyfriend up by the collar of his polo shirt, and suddenly it’s like the air is sucked out of the room.
Scott is fuming, a slew of curses leaves his mouth as he attempts to shove him off. Eddie is stone faced as he releases him abruptly, causing Scott to stumble backwards. He recovers quicker than you expected, raising his fist to aim a punch at the metalhead. But Eddie’s reflexes are much faster, catching the closed fist and knocking it away.
Scott was good in a fight, but he’s too inebriated to do much damage at this point.
“She said to knock it off, Scotty. I know you’re stupid but are you deaf too?”
You quickly get up and squeeze yourself between the two males, a clear pissing contest about to ensue if you don’t intervene. Your back is pressed against your boyfriend's chest, as your eyes plead with your lover to calm down.
“She’s my girlfriend Munson, fuck off,” he sneers.
The music has suddenly been turned down to a more tolerable volume, the focus of the party now shifting onto you— much to your dismay.
You can feel Scott’s hot breath against your neck, as his hands wrap around your middle to pull you further against his chest. Eddie is furious, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles straining underneath his pale skin.
If you weren’t in this current predicament, you might have found it sexy. But you’re far too anxious to focus on anything else right now.
“Doesn’t matter, she doesn’t want you to fucking touch her,” Eddie’s voice continues to raise, until he’s almost yelling over your head. “No means no, dickhead!”
You can see Jason beginning to push through the crowd, Steve hot on his heels. The last thing you wanted was for this whole situation to escalate further. But judging by the look on Jason's face, you don’t know if you can stop it.
The crowd is clearly itching for a fight to break out, the whole atmosphere of the party shifting.
“Hey, freak! Who even invited you here?”
Eddie doesn’t even flinch at Jason’s insult.
“I did, Carver,” Steve answers, inserting himself in the already strained situation.
The tension between the four males is so thick, it makes you wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. Steve glances down at you for a moment before continuing, “But it seems to me like you need to get McGuire here in line. She’s clearly uncomfortable.”
You feel multiple pairs of eyes flick back to you, your shoulders slouching in an attempt to make yourself appear smaller. You catch Jason’s gaze, knowing he can clearly see the distress flitting over your features. The blonde sighs deeply, resting a hand on Scott’s shoulder.
“Scott, come on, just let it go,” he says, beginning to tug the male away from you. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
Before your boyfriend can even begin to protest, Jason and a newly joined Patrick lead him away. While you’re quite shocked that he was willing to break this up, part of you is thankful. Normally, the pair would egg each other on to keep a fight going. But as big of a prick Jason Carver is, he knew Steve was right.
You can feel the tears welling in the corners of your eyes, the party seeming to return to normal. While Steve has also disappeared into the crowd, Eddie hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes follow the group of jocks as they filed out of the room, casually flipping them the bird.
But his focus quickly returns to you. You can see in his eyes how he so desperately wants to envelop you in his arms and kiss your tears away.
But he knows he can’t. Not here.
Those protective urges are getting harder and harder for him to fight.
He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything else you’re rushing past him. Pushing through the sea of drunken teens and to the front door. Your fight or flight instincts are finally kicking in, and you know you have to leave.
Anywhere is better than here.
You’d hitched a ride to the party with Chrissy, but you’re not about to try and find her now. You need to be alone.
You run for almost three blocks before you have to stop, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. You take a minute to let your heart rate slow to a more steady rhythm before you start walking in the direction of your house.
While Hawkins is a relatively small town, your house is still a couple miles from the party. Walking the entire way isn’t the most ideal plan, but you didn’t give yourself much of a choice. And there’s no way you were going back there now.
You can only imagine the rumors that will be floating around the school come Monday. As much as you try to put on a brave face, you care too much about what your peers thought of you. You can already hear the kind of insults that would be thrown your way.
Skank, prude, lying whore.
The possibilities of cruel words were endless. You let out a small hiccup as you continue down the dimly lit street, finally allowing the tears to roll freely down your cheeks. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry too.
How did you even get to this point?
Two months ago you couldn’t have foreseen yourself in this position. Falling for another guy, whilst simultaneously falling out of love with another. If you ever loved Scott to begin with. You’re not entirely convinced of that fact.
It felt like the easiest option, being with someone like Scott McGuire. He’s well-liked, a person your parents approve of. But you weren’t really happy, just going through the motions instead of chasing what you really want.
Perhaps that was what Eddie had really witnessed that night he had stumbled across you and Scott. Someone who was desperately searching for a way out. And he’d given it to you in ways you never expected.
Eddie was kind, attentive— cared about your feelings and desires.
What started off as just sex quickly snowballed into something much deeper. You had never really given much thought to your own needs. Maybe that was why his offer was too good to pass up, it let you indulge in uncharted territory.
You’d been labeled as a good girl your entire life. You never rebelled and always do exactly as you’re told. To the extent that you never felt an ounce of control over the trajectory of your own relationship. Or many other facets within your life.
It was whatever Scott or your parents thought was best for you. They’ve never taken into consideration what you had actually wanted.
But being with Eddie was like a breath of fresh air. It filled your lungs, greedily inhaling everything he has to offer. After struggling beneath the current for so long, there was no way you would let it pull you back under.
A cool breeze suddenly whips across your face, stinging your wet cheeks. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself to stop a shiver. Thankfully, you had forgone the usual skirts or dresses you adored, in favor of a sweater and jeans. Grateful for the extra layers to combat against the sudden drop in temperature.
You keep your head down as you continue to walk further down the quiet street. Only the sounds of your sneakers padding against the concrete and your soft sniffles fill the night air. It’s almost peaceful.
You make it another block before that tranquility is interrupted. You hear the loud rumble of an engine as a vehicle approaches you from behind. While not many people would be out past midnight in this sleepy town, you don’t think anything of it. You figured they would continue driving down the empty street.
That is until that same vehicle begins to idle next to you.
You glance out of your peripheral and curse softly. You would recognize that van anywhere, having found yourself in the back of it more times than you could count.
The window is cranked down as you turn away, beginning to walk a little faster. But the van keeps pace with you regardless. Eddie calls your name, but you keep your eyes trained on the ground. Tears are steadily streaming down your cheeks now, smearing your mascara.
While the brunette has seen you cry before— it was under very different circumstances. This feels different, like he’s seeing you naked for the first time all over again. Only this time you don’t feel ready for it.
You feel vulnerable and exposed.
You hate it.
Eddie proceeds to plead your name, as you continue to ignore him. He let the upper half of his torso practically hang out of the driver’s side window. The theatrical nature of it is almost enough to make you crack a smile. But you know he wasn’t going to give up until you at least tried to talk to him. With how he had stood up for you, he at least deserves that.
Having made up your mind, you suddenly stop in your tracks. The van squeaks to a halt beside you, the male flinging the driver’s side door open. You see his scuffed Reebox’s first, letting your eyes linger there for a moment. But you immediately squeeze them shut as his fingers softly grasp your chin, tilting it up.
“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” His tone is gentle, but still laced with concern. “It’s just you and me, you’re safe.” The sincerity behind those words has your heart skipping a beat.
You let out a shaky breath as your eyes begin to flutter open. His face is blurred from the tears flooding your lash line. You slowly blink them away until he finally comes into focus.
“There she is…” he declares, the indent in his cheek deepening as he smiles.
The male cups your face between his palms, letting their warmth seep into your cheeks. His thumbs swipe away any lingering tears as he presses a kiss to your temple. Eddie envelops you in his arms, letting you bury your face into his chest. You breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, letting him hold you like that for a while.
The glow of the street lights cascades down on both of you. The night air only seems to grow colder the longer you both stand there. A shiver runs through you despite the heat radiating from his chest, something he doesn’t miss.
“Alright, time to go, doll,” he mumbles softly, “Can I drive you home?”
You are silent for a moment, mulling over your options in your head. “No,” you finally say, untangling yourself from him.
He looks a little hurt as you turn to walk towards his van, that hurt morphing into confusion as you yank open the passenger door.
“I don’t want to go home,” you explain, seeming to snap him out of his frozen stature. Eddie quickly climbs back into the van, the door barely slamming shut behind him before he pulls back onto the road.
He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other tangled with yours on the seat. When you left the party, you had fully intended to go home alone.
But being tangled up with him sounds like a much better option.
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You had never been to Eddie’s trailer.
Whether that was intentional or not, you’re not sure. But it’s the one place that he has never taken you to.
He seems nervous as he leads you through the living room. Your eyes wander curiously around the room, taking in the large collection of coffee mugs and hats that decorate the walls. Eddie sheepishly begins picking up some discarded food wrappers, junk mail— all in an effort to tidy up a little.
“Sorry about…” He pauses, hands full as he motions around the room. “All of this." You refrain from rolling your eyes. Tossing some items into the trash, he jokes, “Goddamn maid left us high and dry last week.”
“Let me guess…she ran off with some wannabe rockstar?” You smile, watching as he leans against the kitchen counter with a matching grin.
“Something like that.”
Despite what Eddie has implied about his humble abode, you liked it the moment you crossed the threshold. It has character, a clear representation of the two men who live there. But it also feels warm and incredibly inviting, something your own home hasn’t felt like in quite a long time.
His uncle already left for the night shift, which means the two of you have the place to yourselves. Eddie shows you to the bathroom, giving you a moment alone to collect yourself. But mostly to clean up the mess your mascara had made on your cheeks.
You emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, Eddie nowhere in sight. He didn’t tell you which room was his, but it doesn’t take you long to figure it out. The door at the end of the hall was left slightly ajar, golden light spilling out onto the shag carpet. But it’s the strum of a guitar that ends up being your guide.
You push open the door to his bedroom, unable to help the small smile that graces your features as you take it all in. The room is a little messy and cluttered— something you expected.
You let your eyes roam over the many posters splayed across the walls, Metallica, Slayer… and one handmade one. Corroded Coffin. You knew Eddie was in a band—it was the one of the things apart from DnD that he seemed extremely passionate about.
Music.
Eddie’s quiet as he sits on the edge of his unmade bed, an acoustic guitar perched on his lap. This machine slays dragons, is painted in white on the side of the instrument. You find yourself suddenly mesmerized, watching as his fingers slowly brush over the strings.
He finally notices how you’ve planted yourself in the doorway, glancing up at you from underneath his lashes.
“Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” he smiles, gesturing around him. “What’s mine is yours.”
He focuses his attention back on the instrument in his lap, testing out a few chords as you shut the door behind you. You step further into the room, letting your fingers trail along the top of his desk.
Being alone with him like this suddenly feels more intimate than any other time before. It’s like he’s letting you peek inside his mind, showing pieces of himself that not many others get to see. Only those that he trusts. And you can’t deny how it warms your insides.
You’re a little too busy exploring the rest of his room that you don’t notice when his eyes have drifted back to you. The brunette gazes at you fondly when you spot a pair of handcuffs dangling next to his mirror. His soft chuckle fills the room as you reach out to run your fingers over the cool metal.
“We can definitely put those to use, doll.” Those words have you squirming, warmth spreading through your limbs. You shy away as you take a seat in the chair next to his desk. “If you want.”
Eddie grins at your flustered expression, glancing back down at his guitar. He’s playing freely now, the chords unfamiliar to you. But they’re beautiful nonetheless.
“You’re really good at… uh,” you trail off softly, gesturing to the instrument.
You notice how the tips of his ears flush pink from your admission, although he acts unfazed by your compliment.
“What, fingering?” he teases, purposefully pressing his fingers down onto the guitar strings in a dramatic manner which makes you giggle.
The song he was playing quickly morphs into something else, something quite familiar. But you can’t quite put your finger on it. You lean forward to rest your chin in your palm.
The moment he begins to hum the lyrics is the moment when the song becomes abundantly clear.
I, I will be king… and you, you will be queen.
“Heroes,” you murmur, the word almost becoming lodged in your throat.
You had mentioned to Eddie in passing a few weeks ago that it’s your favorite Bowie song.
You never expected him to do anything with that information, or even remember it. But he kept finding ways to surprise you. This small act alone proves that he truly cares about you, that he listens to you. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.
Your body suddenly feels too warm under the thick layers of clothing. Rising to your feet, you grip the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. You let the soft material fall to the floor, joining a heap of his own clothing. Standing before him in only your bra and jeans.
Eddie seems to fumble over the next few notes as he takes in your newly exposed skin, averting his gaze as he clears his throat. Now it’s your turn to make him flustered.
But he can’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as you begin unbuttoning your jeans. You shimmy the denim down your legs, kicking them off to the side. You felt emboldened as you strolled over to the brunette’s dresser. His eyes boring into your back as you rummage through his drawers.
You’re in search of a particular item, a smile stretching across your face once you locate it amongst the various band tees. Reaching behind your back you unclip your bra, you let the straps slide off of your shoulders. The item quickly joins the rest of your discarded clothes on his floor.
You don’t hear how his breath hitches in his throat over the strum of his guitar.
You pull Eddie’s faded hellfire shirt from the drawer and slip it over your head. The soft fabric glides over your skin, the hem falling just past the curve of your ass. It smells like an intoxicating mixture of his cologne and laundry detergent.
You hum softly as you breathe it in, turning to face him again. His dark eyes are blown wide, the guitar now almost forgotten in his hands. Just the sight of you in his clothes is making him feel things he’d be too afraid to admit out loud.
You saunter towards him, carefully grasping the neck of the guitar and leaning it against his dresser. He seems dumbfounded as you climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. You tilt your head down towards his ear, lips grazing over it. Enjoying the way he almost shudders beneath you.
“I just want to thank you properly,” you whisper, nipping at his lobe.
Your lips continue to trail across his jaw until you reach his mouth, unable to hold back any longer as you press your lips to his. The feeling of your mouth molding against his own seems to snap Eddie out of whatever trance he was in. His large hands easily find the curve of your waist, gripping the fabric of the shirt in his fists.
Eddie kisses you slowly but deeply, trying to savor the taste of your mouth on his. Your fingers slip the elastic band out of his hair, letting his curls cascade wildly over his shoulders. But the longer he kisses you, the worse the ache between your thighs becomes.
In desperate need of some friction, you grind your hips down against his crotch. Whining as you feel his hardened cock through his jeans. He’d been struggling with it ever since you took that first piece of clothing off. Initially, he was going to ignore it, but then you climbed right into his lap and he lost all sense of logic.
But as much as he wants this to continue, he knows you’re not in the right kind of headspace for more. He groans into your mouth as you continue to rub yourself against him, but his firm grip on your hips stops any further movement. Your eyes flutter open, confusion filling them.
“Slow down, sweetheart,” he pants, one of his hands lifted to carefully cup your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
The look he’s giving you has your heart stuttering, but his words are throwing you for a loop. The whole basis of this… arrangement was sex. The fine line between a casual hookup and a relationship have been blurred for a while. But tonight has made it crystal clear that this has evolved into something much more than that.
Even if neither of you wanted to admit it.
“Do you not want…” you trail off, unable to hide the sliver of hurt in your tone.
He shakes his head, leaning his forehead against yours with a strained sigh.
“Trust me, doll. I definitely want to.” He chuckles, shifting his hips beneath you. “But tonight was… fuck, it was intense. And you can't expect me to believe you're okay after all that. I just want you to have a clear head, is all.”
You mull over his words for a moment as the weight of what happened earlier crashes back over you. And with it, squashing any urge to finish what you had just started.
"I'm not that asshole,” he continues, unable to make out your puzzled expression. “You don't have to fuck me just to make me happy. I'm happy just being with you, like this."
You’re willing yourself not to cry again as he gently presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Eddie basks in the scent of your strawberry shampoo, feeling you start to relax against his chest.
“Now, I don’t know about you.” He yawns, nuzzling your nose with his. “But I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
You laugh quietly, nodding as you climb off his lap. Draping your body over the bed, keeping your eyes focused on him. The male stands to strip down to his boxers, in such a hurry to get back to you that he almost trips over his jeans.
“Down, boy, I’m not going anywhere.” You giggle as he slips under the covers with you.
A sheepish grin tugs at his lips as he clicks off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. You reach for him just as he does for you, your hands bumping together clumsily.
“Scoot closer.” You can almost hear the pout in his voice, eagerly moving forward until his bare chest is pressed against your clothed one.
“Much better,” he hums.
Eddie slots one of his legs between yours, snaking his arms around your waist. There’s no part of you that isn’t completely entangled in him. You can feel his clothed erection pressing into your hip, and that sense of guilt washes over you again.
Knowing you’d left not one, but two guys pent up tonight.
“I’m really sorry for everything tonight,” you whisper into the darkness, feeling his arms tighten around you.
“Hey, don’t do that. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”
You nod, but those feelings welling up inside you don’t dissipate. Not completely.
Eddie begins to rub soothing circles over your hip, continuing up your side. Your body tenses as you try to stifle a laugh. The male doesn’t realize that his touch isn’t exactly… soothing. But the further his hand creeps up your side the more you start to squirm and a small gasp leaves your lips.
That sound alone is enough to tip him off, now well aware of what he’s done. You can vaguely make out his mischievous grin in the dark, calculating his next move. Before you have time to react both of his hands are trailing up your sides, tickling you.
“Eddie!” You squeal as your body thrashes in his embrace, rolling you underneath him in the process.
The chain of his necklace dangles in your face, his fingers unrelenting as he pulls giggle after giggle out of you. This is a sound he’d vowed to hear as often as he could, his own laugh mingling with yours.
“S’not f-fair!” you squeak out between fits of laughter before he finally lets up so you can breathe. You’re panting a little, your noses brush against each other.
“I like making you laugh,” he admits, almost shyly. “It’s cute.”
You reach out for his face in the darkness, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. You can feel the warmth that’s radiating against your lips, allowing your lips to linger there for a moment.
Coming to the realization that you’d just made Eddie Munson blush brings a wide smile to your face.
“I just want to say thank you for earlier… and for letting me stay the night. I really appreciate it.”
Eddie settles back down next to you on the mattress, your palms resting against his chest. His lips search for yours in the darkness, leaving kisses all over your face in his fumbling attempt to find your lips. Another round of giggles escapes you from the tender gesture.
His ability to make you feel so safe and secure is still so new to you. You don’t want this feeling to end— you never want any of this to end. However, you know this isn’t fair. Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.
But as time passed and this relationship continued to progress, the more you began to realize that you didn’t want to keep him a secret anymore.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
You snuggle yourself further against him, limps tangling together. With your ear pressed to his chest, you can hear the steady beat of his heart. The way his breathing starts to slow and become more even.
“Goodnight, Eds,” you whisper, stifling another laugh as a soft snore answers you.
You allow your eyes to slip shut, exhaustion finally overtaking you as his heartbeat continues to lull you to sleep.
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Sunlight streaming through the thin curtains is what awoke you that next morning.
A sigh falls from your lips as you attempt to stretch out your overly stiff limbs. Which is when you feel a stirring beneath you. Your eyes fly open as the events of last night trickle back in.
The party, Scott being a grade A asshole, Eddie taking care of you...
If your body wasn’t currently draped over him, you might have convinced yourself it was all a dream. That Eddie dropped you off at home, and you were snuggled beneath your floral bedspread. But to your relief, that clearly isn’t the case.
Your body stills in an attempt not to stir the sleeping metalhead beneath you. At some point during the night you must have gotten yourselves into this position. Laying on his chest, with his arms wrapped securely around your middle. But you don’t mind in the slightest.
In fact, you feel more rested than you have in quite some time. You just wish you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and only him. Lifting your head, you rest your chin on your hand and begin to study his sleeping features.
He looks completely at ease.
Faint freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, his long lashes fanning over them. His dark curls are wild from sleep, fanned out over his flannel pillowcase. Pouted lips slightly chapped, but kissable all the same. He really is beautiful.
You continue to watch him sleep for a while longer, the morning sun cascading over the tops of his cheekbones. But his breath remains even, small snores slipping out every so often. As you gaze at him, you can’t help but silently scold yourself.
You’re falling for Eddie Munson more and more each day, and you know you can’t keep this up.
You have to end things with Scott.
And as much as you want to stay snuggled up with Eddie, your body has other needs. You don’t exactly know how you’re going to get up without disturbing him, but your bladder is in desperate need of relief.
You sigh as you begin to shimmy further down his body, your legs falling on either side of his hips. A squeak of surprise leaves you as you feel his hard on pressing against your inner thigh through his boxer shorts. It shouldn’t have been that big of a shock to you—morning wood is normal, right?
But you didn’t have much experience with sleepovers of this nature. Despite dating Scott for well over a year, you’ve never spent the night with him like this. So it’s something quite new to you. While you silently ponder over this, Eddie begins to stir again.
A soft moan tumbles past his lips as you accidentally press yourself harder against his boner in an attempt to swing your leg back over the other side of his hip.
“Mm… where do you think you’re going, doll?” His voice is thick with sleep, an octave lower than normal. The gravelly nature of it makes heat shoot between your legs.
You curse softly as you glance up at him, those chocolate hues gazing back at you. Eddie’s fingers splayed across the tops of your thighs, sliding up to encircle your hips. You feel your body flush, his eyes darkening as he looks you over— straddling him, wearing nothing but his shirt.
When he lifts his hips to grind you against him, you can’t stop the whimper that escapes.
“Eds, hold on. I have to pee,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed as his hips still beneath you.
He just lets out a deep laugh as his hands release your hips. You climb over him, quick to scramble off the bed.
“Alright, I guess I’ll allow it,” he teases, the tips of fingers brushing against yours. “Just hurry back, sweetheart.”
Your heart warms at the sight of him, his brown eyes filling with adoration as they look up at you. Leaning over the bed, you press a small kiss to his mouth. A giggle leaves your own as he gives your ass a small pat before you book it to the bathroom.
You feel much better after finally relieving yourself, washing your hands as you glance into the mirror. Your eyes almost sparkle in the muted light, a dopey smile stretched across your face. Is this what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship?
You don’t dwell on it long, far too eager to return back to him. You slip out of the bathroom and tiptoe back to Eddie’s bedroom. Taking extra care to be quiet as you weren’t sure if Wayne has returned home from work yet. And frankly, you’d be mortified if you met him under these conditions—with you clad in only Eddie’s shirt and your panties.
What a great way to make a first impression.
You close his bedroom door behind you slowly, letting the lock click gently into place. You turn back around to face him and lean against the door. Eddie is in the same spot you had left him, only now he’s leaning halfway up on one elbow. That hunger hasn’t left his gaze as he beckons you over with his index finger.
Looking at his hands makes your thighs clench together, knowing all the wonderful things they were capable of. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as you approach him, stopping at the edge of the mattress. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the plush skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
They continue up until they reach the elastic of your panties. He gives you a look, silently asking for permission. You guide his fingers beneath the fabric, aiding him in sliding them down your legs. As you step out of the material, your eyes glance back up to meet his.
“Come here.”
It’s spoken softly, but the command in his voice makes your breath hitch.
You move on instinct, your desire fueling your actions as you straddle his hips. There’s a fluidity in your movements as you rest your hands on his chest. Your manicured nails gently trail over his stomach, watching the lust continue to swirl behind his irises.
While this wasn’t a position you’d dabbled in up to this point, the way he’s regarding you has your confidence flourishing. He wants you, and he wants you badly.
At this point you’d give him the moon and the stars if he asked.
Once you’re settled on top of him, you can feel how his cock strains against the fabric of his boxers. Testing the waters, you glide yourself along his shaft, his hands reaching up to encircle your waist. He simply rests them there, allowing you to take the lead.
The worn cotton of his briefs provides some much needed friction against your clit. You bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep a moan from slipping out. But the male isn’t having any of that. He reaches his hand up to remove your lower lip from between your teeth.
His calloused thumb brushes over your mouth, slipping the digit past your lips.
“No need to be shy, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”
You nod your head, humming as your tongue swirls around his thumb. You eagerly suck it deeper into your mouth, which pulls a low groan from him. But Eddie can only take so much of your teasing, removing his thumb to grip back onto your hips. Your lower lip juts out in a small pout, which causes him to chuckle.
“Now none of that, or I’ll give you something to pout about,” he quips, giving your ass a warning smack.
The hint of a threat in his tone has you whimpering, guiding your hips harder along his shaft.
You grip the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, beginning to lift it over your hips but he stops you. A brow raising as you look down at him.
“Fuck, keep it on,” he says with a groan. “Wanna see you riding me in it.”
His confession has you feeling timid, letting your hands settle back at your sides. Eddie’s fingers begin to trail over the top of your thigh, before dipping between them. His digits glide between your slick folds, brushing over your bundle of nerves. It causes your breath to hitch, eagerly grinding your hips back against his fingertips.
“Eddie, please,” you breathe.
“Use your words, pretty girl,” he hums. “Tell me what you want.”
Impatience gnawed at you as you lifted your hips, your fingers dipping past the waistband of his boxers. You tug them down to release his cock from their confines, your actions surprising you both. As much as you loved when he touched you, your body was already craving more.
Wrapping your palm around the base of his shaft, he groans. His jaw slackens as he watches you guide the tip through your drenched folds. Nudging it against your clit once…twice…a third time.
Before you finally line him up with your entrance, guiding your hips down.
“Shit, hold on doll, need a condom.”
Eddie holds you in place with one hand, as the other reaches over into his night side table. He’s blindly searching for one of the foil packets when you blurt out, “I don’t want it. Need you to fuck me raw, Ed.”
Your words stop him in his tracks, eyes widening in almost disbelief. You suddenly feel nervous, praying you didn’t just ruin everything with your admission.
“Are you sure? I-I wouldn’t want to risk…” he trails off, licking his lips as he regards you with a somewhat guarded expression.
You nod, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “I’m on the pill. I just… I want you to be the first one to do it, Eddie.”
His groan rumbles through his chest, the implication behind your words only makes him want you more. Scott never got to do this.
This is something that would be his, and his alone.
His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your face towards his. Crashes his lips against yours, the desperation behind them telling you his resounding answer. But you want to hear him say it. Nipping at his lower lip, you pull away to sit back up and rest your palms on his chest.
The male is panting beneath you, his flustered expression only causes your confidence to grow. A smirk adorns your features as Eddie lifts his hips upward in an attempt to grind them into yours, but you push back against his hip to stop the movement.
“Nuh uh, handsome,” you purr, your fingertips gliding through the hair just below his navel. “Tell me what you want. Use your words.”
Eddie’s brain nearly short circuits as you use his former words against him. A slew of curses tumbles from his lips as you grasp his cock in your hand, rubbing it through your folds but not yet breaching the entrance. Awaiting his response as you continue to tease him, feeling his fingers grasping onto your ass.
“Fuck, I wanna come inside you so bad, sweetheart,” he whines.
You hum in approval, leaning back down to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth. Eddie instantly reciprocates, his tongue working its way past your lips. You teasingly suck the muscle into your mouth before pulling away. A string of saliva connects you as you sit up fully. Eddie curses again, his hands gripping onto your ass even harder.
“Fuck— come on, please.”
Hearing Eddie Munson beg is what finally breaks your resolve, slowly sinking down onto his cock.
It didn’t matter how many times you’ve had him, he always made you feel so full. This time feels…different, though. It’s as though you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock caressing your inner walls, the sensation has you gasping. Your body stills once he’s fully sheathed inside you, letting your palms splay across his chest.
“That’s it, takin’ me so good, doll,” he grunts as his head falls back against the pillow. His praise has you beaming.
You stay like that for a moment until you become familiar with the feeling of him inside you again. Beginning to lift your hips slowly, his cock nearly slipping out of you completely. As you begin to lower yourself onto him again, his face contorts in pleasure—now hiding those beautiful irises from you.
“Eddie… baby. Look at me,” you coo.
The pet name slips past your lips almost too easily, enjoying the way it sounds on your tongue. Eddie’s eyes snap back open to meet yours. His pupils are blown wide, the black nearly swallowing the brown of his irises whole. The male peers up at you in a mixture of lust and awe as you continue to take him deeper.
If he could watch you ride him all day, he would.
However, your leisurely pace is starting to drive him insane. The brunette begins to buck his hips up into yours, swift but deep thrusts that take you by surprise. A moan gets caught in your throat as he rams into your sweet spot, eyes rolling back into your head. Witnessing your visceral reaction, he continues to repeat the action as your chest starts to heave.
“Christ, you look so pretty with my cock inside you, baby,” he moans, his fingers digging harder into your hips.
Any thoughts of remaining quiet are thrown out the window the moment he speaks. A loud moan rips itself from your throat, filling the silence of his bedroom. His praise has your walls tightening around his shaft, your head falling forward as you open your eyes. A smug look adorns his features, eyes falling to where your bodies connect.
He looks so good like this— underneath you, eyes wide and his cheeks beautifully flushed.
“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl…”
The sound that leaves you is borderline pornographic, nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him faster. You can’t disguise the way your body reacts to being called his, your arousal making a slippery mess between your bodies.
You reach for him, coaxing him up until your chests are pressed together. Lips find each other instantly, tangling your fingers in his already wild locks. One of his hands travels between you, rubbing at your swollen bud.
“Fuck— Eddie,” you cry out as he massages your clit faster, simultaneously bucking his hips up into you.
You meet each of his thrusts by slamming your hips back down, thighs burning with the effort. One more brutal thrust into your cervix has you seeing stars, your head burying itself into the crook of his neck. You bite down onto the flesh of his shoulder to muffle a loud cry.
Your thighs tremble as your body slumps forward—unable to continue.
But Eddie keeps going, chasing his own end as he guides you further along his cock. He isn’t able to hold off much longer, as the constant fluttering of your walls becomes his undoing. He spills inside you with a deep grunt as you cling onto his biceps.
The male soon collapses into you, his chest heaving as he captures your lips together. You sigh into his mouth as he holds you tightly against him, breathing the air back into your lungs. You stay like that for a moment, locked together in the most intimate way possible.
Eddie carefully ushers your hips upward, coaxing you back onto the mattress. You whimper softly, already missing the feeling of him inside you. His cum has begun to drip onto the bed sheets as he kneels before you, spreading your legs so he can admire the mess he’s made.
Eddie’s eyes are still wide with lust as he takes in the sight of you, dipping his fingers between your thighs to gather some of his cum on the digits. He slowly eases them back inside your entrance in an attempt to keep anything else from spilling out. You whine his name, reaching out for him as he gently removes his fingers from your center.
The male presses multiple kisses to your shaky thighs before he crawls his way back up your body. Just as he goes to wipe his fingers on his sheets you grab onto his wrist, slipping the digits past your lips.
“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mumbles, feigning hurt when you playfully nibble on his fingers. He starts to pull away, ignoring your pout as he gets off up off the bed. You’re about to protest but he hushes you with a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
Eddie quickly fixes his boxers before he slips out of his bedroom, returning moments later with a damp washcloth. He’s back between your legs, gently cleaning up the dried arousal on your thighs. He takes his time, making sure every inch of your skin is clean before he tosses the dirty rag in his overflowing laundry basket.
Eddie helps you into a sitting position as he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. He smiles fondly at you, dimple indenting his cheek as a familiar look flashes through his eyes. The one you had noticed the week prior when you were draped across his chest in your bedroom. A look he seems to give you almost every time you’re together now.
You still aren’t sure what exactly it means. All you do know is that you want to see more of it.
Eddie tries to hide it as he presses a kiss to your nose, chuckling as you scrunch it beneath his lips. “You hungry? I’m not the best cook, but I can definitely whip you up a nice omelet?”
You beam at him, nodding your head as he gets up to rummage through his dresser drawers. He eventually finds a pair of shorts for you to wear, handing you the garment as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. You glance down at the ground, attempting to look for your discarded panties, only to come up short.
“Eddie? Have you seen my panties?” You sigh, beginning to look through the clothes scattered across the floor. Hearing him chuckle you glance up, a small smirk stretching across his lips. It’s then that you notice the black lacy fabric clutched in his fist.
“These are mine now, sweetheart,” he winks, tucking them into his bedside table.
You feel a little flustered as you pull the shorts up over your legs, playfully swatting his chest as you stand. Eddie just laughs, pulling you into arms and kissing you again. He eagerly threads your fingers together, leading you out of the room.
However, once he begins to guide you through the trailer— there's only one thing on your mind.
Scotty has got to go.
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— next chapter.
sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh
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whichcouldmeannothing · 1 year ago
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big big marvey fic rec list
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marvey is currently my most bookmarked ship, so trust me when i say i've been around the bend for marvey content. i have dug through a lot of it the past few months, so trust that these fics have been highly rated!
fics are loosely grouped, with the summary and my thoughts under the cut :3 no spoilers ofc bc i love you
MY PERSONAL FAVOURITES
A Specter-Ross Affair by @frivoloussuits (15k+, au)
“You ordered an ‘extra-hot, extra-wet cappuccino, single-origin, properly layered, to-go and ready five minutes ago to make up for your service speed or lack thereof.’” In which Mike is a barista, Rachel is a lawyer, and Harvey is paid excessive amounts of money to plan their joyous Christmas wedding.
"Love is just a particularly socially accepted form of fraud. It's a series of increasingly complex and fragile deceptions between two or more people, and, more alarmingly, between each participant and their own deluded subconscious."
i literally cannot recommend this fic enough. this might be my favourite read of the entire year, dead serious. this sounds fluffy but trust me, the pining and the angst go well like salt on a chocolate chip cookie: extremely decadent. everything about this fic goes insane and this should be your gateway drug into marvey, im so serious about this. READ IT. (weddingplanner!harvey)
of all the gin joints by @frivoloussuits (10k+, au)
Hanging around a neighborhood bar one night, Harvey befriends a guy named Mike after realizing they can both quote The Princess Bride on demand. In the law offices of Rand, Kaldor, Zane and Pearson, senior partner Harvey Specter takes on an unusual case, representing his managing partner's daughter as she divorces a Michael James Ross. Harvey sees no connection until it's far too late.
"They’re playing a virtuosic duet with inhuman ease, as if the intoxication has broken their boundaries and blurred them into a single entity."
this. obsessed with fics that really use the law in their plots, and this is a prime example. a lot of chemistry in this one that is described in a way that makes you jealous of the bond they share and there are still lines in this fic that i think about almost everyday but honestly, such a top-tier read. PLEASE PLEASE IF YOU LIKE SUFFERING ANF REALLY REALLY GOOD CHEMISTRY PLEASE
5U175 by Closer (26k, canon-adjacent)
Harvey sometimes moonlights as a Star Trek BNF. Mike might have an attitude problem on the internet. TiberiusGhost is strangely compelling, for a recluse who never goes to meetups, and Harvey's finding this kid Photohead vaguely familiar…
i know that the terminology in this one is hella old-school but trust me. as someone who doesnt read a lot of fandom fics, this fic has changed it all for me (also bc the author replied to my comment hehehe) stick with this fic because the way fandom weaves with the character development is absolutely delicious, i remember saying this in my og comment but this fic was written with love for fandom and you should definitely read it too!!! you'd absolutely love it! (also ben stans rise up ^^)
fics to sink your teeth into (20k+)
needs must by @melthemagpie (98k+, au)
When Grammy needs an upgrade in care, Mike knows that the usual one-off gig as a paid submissive won't be enough. He takes a job he's been refusing for a while - a long-term, full-time contract. He expects his client to be a sadistic asshole. He expects not to like it. He's wrong on both counts.
this is a fandom classic, every fic rec has this on the list (cw for dom/sub and prostitution, so if you're uncomfy please dont read) but i swear there are so many romantic moments in this one that make me swoon and the smut is very good, i usually tap out in long fics really quickly but this hooked me the whole way through twice. thats my ringing endorsement, READ THIS
Lobster and Other Catastrophes by @andthetardis (21k, canon-compliant)
After months of silence, Mike starts texting Harvey again out of the blue. Funny thing to do on his honeymoon, really.
BRO PLEASE. this was so good. angsty and pining-y enough even though it's mostly a text fic. text fics to me are more like comedic, but this one had substance and heart (and funny and enjoyable btw). pulls you in and really makes you want to stick it out and get to the beautiful ending <333 (harvey being soft is probably a category on its own :3)
The Game by @frivoloussuits (27k, hunger games au)
Harvey Specter and Donna Paulsen are efficient and elegant killers. They have trained since childhood, mentored personally by Jessica Pearson and marked for years as District 1's Tributes for the Hunger Games. Mike Ross is an orphan from District 12, a drug dealer, and an underage gambler. After years of scrutinizing the Hunger Games on TV to make savvy bets, he finds himself on the wrong side of the camera, now playing the odds just to survive. Harvey and Mike cannot, should not trust each other. Still, they strike a backroom deal.
"Because he’s clever and quick-thinking and he’s learned her main lesson well– don’t love anyone you wouldn’t be willing to see dead. Ideally, don’t love anyone at all."
I READ THIS WHEN I WAS REVISITING HUNGER GAMES AND OHHHHH THIS HAS THE ANGST. absolutely riveting. ths is the third fic im reccing from them bc i love frivoloussuits. i would die for them HHFSHFHKSDGDHFG i love the angst and the life-threatening situations that the hunger games provide and harvey as a career is correct. its just correct. everything here grips my soul
Disaster Stories by agatestones (22k, canon-compliant)
"Hold on," Mike asked, "you made Donna come into work in the middle of a blizzard?" "I don't make Donna do anything. Haven't you learned by now?" Harvey gave Mike a mean little smile, but under that was relief for anyone to see. "You, I can make come into the office in a blizzard."
reads like a novella to me, and it's really good!!! very episodic and you really feel like these are things that have happened in universe. its very slice of lifey and i reread it a lot as a comfort read, its like a big hug to me
Pizza and a Movie by Closer (30k+, au)
In an alternate universe, Harvey's still a lawyer but Mike's not a pot runner -- he's a deliveryman for Rollo's Pizza and Ribs, which happens to be Harvey's favorite pizza place. Once Harvey finds out his pizza guy is a genius, Mike's life takes a few turns he would not have expected...
i swear this is the most rom-commy fic marvey has to offer. i like aus that slap me in the face more with the alternate universe, but this is such a rom-com plot. fandom classic as well and it really reads like a hugh grant 90s movie and if thats not enough to pull you in idk what will tbh
Imprimatur by Closer (22k, au)
Mike was raised to believe Imprint was a life-changing event for those few lucky enough to experience it. Harvey was raised to believe it was a form of mental illness. When it actually happened, neither of them noticed.
this goes absolutely crazy. one of those fics where you read it and you almost want to throw your phone at the wall because the characters could make it so easy if they werent so stupid (but in a good way of course) but the way it was written, you feel the depth of the soulmate bond and why its so important (which a lot of soulmate aus forget to do loll) but goes down like an expensive and delicious dinner :)
afternoon reads (10k+)
Sony SRF-39FP by @frivoloussuits (11k+, canon-adjacent)
Anita Gibbs won’t settle for Mike, not when there are name partners within her reach. She offers only one deal– two years, no other charges against anyone else in the firm, as long as Harvey Specter turns himself in. And even as Donna and Jessica and Louis and Mike beg him not to, he jumps on the grenade. “Time to get busy living or get busy dying,” he remarks, and Mike gives a small chuckle. Then Harvey smirks, straightens his suit jacket, and strides into FCI Danbury.
“I can’t believe they’re trying to lock you in a box and forget about you,” Mike sighs as he leaves.
“Well, as long as you don’t forget me, I figure I’ll survive.”
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but forgetting’s never been my strong suit.
cw for depersonalization and desc of solitary confinement, very very heavy but the way mike is there throughout everything makes my heart twinge. i really dont know how to describe this fic at all but its really good. it makes me cry a lot. also made me start listening to jazz which- uh
Here at the end of all things by @tattooedsiren (10k, au)
When he arrives at the Pearson Hardman building the lights are dimmed and the floor is deserted. His feet carry him to Harvey's office even though he expects it to be empty. Because Harvey probably fled the city via helicopter or teleporter or sheer force of will. But when he approaches the office he can see that Harvey is there. He has moved the couch so that it now faces the floor to ceiling windows and Mike silently sits beside Harvey, joins him in looking down at the chaos engulfing the city below. [Apocalypse AU]
I LOVE APOCALYPSE FICS UP UP UP badass!harvey makes me bark, but im a really big fan of people who find happiness in the worst circumstances and this fic does it so so so well. reminds me a lot of tlou episode like 2? the one with the strawberries. please this is what i revisit when i miss marvey and i dont have a lot of time because the world and the characters are jsut so delicious!!!
quick reads (1k+)
This Love is Silent by kim47 (8k, canon-compliant)
She should have known. She had known, that something was off, at least. She knew he was hiding something. She just never imagined it could be this. Despite Harvey's warnings, Mike tells Rachel the truth about everything. She's shocked, naturally, and more than a little angry, but she agrees to keep his secret, and even to date him. So when they break up, Harvey goes into damage-control mode.
RACHEL!! HELLO RACHEL!! im always up for smart and discerning rachel (this shows up in of all the gin joints too btw!!!) this runs realistic to me because it shows that rachelxmike arent some hopelessly wrong for each other couple, they have good and bad times. this feels more real to me than other fics bc its not like the world conspires for marvey to be apart, its just life. i know this makes it sound so sad, and it is, but trust me: this is really really really good i love this so much
an archive of harvey specter's expressions by @frivoloussuits (2k, canon-compliant)
Five old expressions that Mike rediscovers in new contexts once he and Harvey are (finally) together, and one that he sees for the first time. Alternatively titled “An Ode to Gabriel Macht’s Face.”
this was written for me. this is literally me. writing fic because gabriel macht is too pretty, like this fic is literally for me. a lot of peering at him to get this fic as masterfully written as it is, and i thank you author everyday for it. to me, this reads like it's been written with love and care and true adoration (Truly, like Mike)
Coffee-Cart Client Privilege by @frivoloussuits (7k, au)
Mike runs a coffee cart. The coffee cart.
"Why not? They're too big and dense to be a snack." So are you, Mike thinks, and yet.
IM SORRY I KEEP RECCING FRIVOLOUS SUITS THEYRE MY FAVOURITE WRITER IN THIS FANDOM HFBKABFDKHFBHKDSA this has the hand-wavy logic the show has itself but mike's internal monologue in this one is one of the best ive ever read and the way mike's integrated in the offices is just so well-done ahhhh
Objection by yeah its frivoloussuits again i feel bad tagging them like 7 times (2k, canon-adjacent)
When Mike announces he’s leaving, Harvey plans to hide the jagged pieces of his broken heart deep inside, where no one will ever find them. His heart would like to object.
BIGG fan of physical hurt/comfort!!!! also big fan of people absolutely freaking out in the hospital in fics, it makes me bounce of the wall!! very short but the angst and love really hits you quick and leaves you on the floor gasping for air. very good (also cant prove this but im very sure this is a scrubs reference.t hanks)
Excerpts From The Gospel of Harvey Specter, edited by Michael "Forever Awesome" Ross, 2011, 1st Ed, by @rcmclachlan (7k, canon compliant)
Mike can totally read people. Well, most people. Some people. Or maybe just Harvey, who's pretty much an open book.
this one's really funny! it doesent follow direct prose and instead plays a lot with the setting its in (where mike's a documenter of harvey) and its just so funny and adorable. has a lot of heart too, it isn't just crack or anything but you really feel everything mike does as he writes all this, read this!!1
One More Sleepless Night by @sal_si_puedes (9k, au)
Soul Bonds are one-sided – there’s usually mutual affection, but only one party feels the crippling need to be together as often as possible. If separated at length from their love, that party becomes crushed by longing, panic, and sheer hopelessness, and so it is illegal to forcibly keep Soulmates apart. Some days, Harvey Specter hates the Bond that skews his judgement and weakens his resolve, and he fears what would happen if anyone in his world ever discovers he is so compromised. He certainly never planned to disclose the Bond for the first time in the middle of Anita Gibbs’ office, in a last-ditch attempt to invalidate the deal sending Mike to prison.
HSDGFHSDKGHRLKGHK THIS FIC. i love fics that use more than just prose to tell their stories (see above fic) and this does my favourite thing that soulmate aus do, which is where they integrate in-universe explanations for the phenomenon. the amount of work and dedication put into this fic makes it absolutely sing and was absolutely lovely!!
also pspspsps
golden like the daffodils by @mini-mart (2k, canon-compliant)
Poetry holds meaning, for anyone who reads it. It obscures and dances around the literal and metaphorical, because it’s imbued with so much of something that it overflows out of any definition. It can make someone mad, or lovesick, or aroused, and the reactions would be absolutely warranted. Mike is poetry, to Harvey. - Harvey Specter could be a good politician, as he believes in pragmatism over poetry. He won't let his progress fall apart, won't let someone knock it down. And then someone unceremoniously cracks open a suitcase at his feet. Or: Harvey, pretty boys and poetry.
yeah yeah i wrote this yeah yeah self promo smth smth
there's a lot more that isn't here but i'll probably write a new one when i go for a deep dive through the ship tags again :3
^^ ao3 etiqutte applies! if you like the fic, kudos and comment and bookmark!! show your love! happy reading marveys! my gift to u :3
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gladiatorcunt · 9 months ago
Text
MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER
cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you
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summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader
wc: 8.4k
cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.
requests are open (read the rules first)
block & move on if uncomfortable
do not repost or translate!!
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The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them. 
"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."
"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"
Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more. 
Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head. 
There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream. 
His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out. 
His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time. 
SHIT! 
It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often. 
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That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own. 
They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have. 
"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"
Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother. 
Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath. 
The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure. 
He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it. 
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."
He thinks you'd do even better. 
By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age. 
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He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a  quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached  the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders. 
"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."
Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"
"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him. 
Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him. 
He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you. 
"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."
You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had  to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future. 
"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes. 
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Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you. 
"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation. 
You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment. 
Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat. 
The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.
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They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them. 
The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions. 
The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.
"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face. 
Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly. 
"What's this, buddy?"
"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…” 
Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.
"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister." 
“And we can get something for my teacher?”
“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”
"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs. 
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The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize. 
Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.
The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera. 
Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards. 
Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors. 
The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse. 
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He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.
“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s. 
The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach. 
With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight. 
Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders. 
His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now. 
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His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in. 
He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down. 
His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out. 
3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body. 
Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south. 
A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher. 
An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air. 
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You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.
Thank god for oral fixations. 
“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs. 
He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind. 
Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.
The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart. 
“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger. 
Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh. 
He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length. 
And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue. 
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The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow. 
He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.
The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table. 
Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted  most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father. 
Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him  to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms. 
Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up. 
He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks. 
Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you. 
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Friday morning was ushered in by  two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping. 
“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”
 "It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face. 
Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on. 
Fuck, not again. 
He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started. 
He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness. 
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes. 
"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."
Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.
"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it. 
Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them. 
Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them. 
Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already. 
They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.
Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry. 
He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there. 
Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this. 
The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons. 
The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket  in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.  
A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children. 
"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit. 
The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.
Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.
But that could wait. 
The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back. 
Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.
 Some say that means it’s love. 
You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”
“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”
You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“ 
You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies. 
He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else. 
“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.”  He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day. 
The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.” 
If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”? 
Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you. 
“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner. 
“I actually got you something myself, but uh,  if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.” 
He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed. 
The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others
By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone. 
At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.
Whatever that meant. 
The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.) 
Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty. 
Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate. 
Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you. 
“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest. 
In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.  
You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.
“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased. 
“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply. 
Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”
“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?” 
You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.” 
Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.) 
Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act. 
Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw. 
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The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.
 “Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot. 
You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping  squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses. 
There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island. 
The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway. 
The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies. 
You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms. 
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Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that. 
The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much. 
The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more. 
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a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞
671 notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 9 months ago
Text
beach walks
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7k, Joel x f!reader; surf instructor Billy x f!reader (Billy gifs)
night walks au A/N: Picks up right after beach walks prequel.
SUMMARY: Paths cross, and Joel can't let you go. WARNINGS: I8+ angst, infidelity adjacent if you squint, drugs, dubcon (drugs/location) p in v, somewhat possessive!joel, exhibitionism, homoerotic tension if you squint. cuck!billy but you also sit on his face.
Joel can't sleep. He stares at the ceiling and keeps drifting back to what he shouldn't have seen - you in the pool with Billy. Plus, he evisions you fucking on the beach, in the hotel, in that stupid shack. He's not happy about it, but you’re so damn hot. He can't help the way his body reacts. He keeps hearing that moan, fuck.
He figures out what helps him get back to sleep, and by the end of the night, he's used all the lotion in that little bottle. 
He wakes up for the last time around five. He showers and packs his bag. It's still dark when he goes for a walk on the beach. As the sky hints at sunrise, he stands with his fingers interlaced on the crown of his head and listens to the birds. He’s been doing his best, and it turns out his best sucks. On a sandbar, he finds a live starfish missing an arm and gently tosses it like a Frisbee back into the ocean. 
What is he doing? He could've left it all alone. 
He walks back to the hotel and gets a cup of coffee and a newspaper. He goes out on the cafe porch to read. There's a yoga class in view on the beach, and he looks to see if you're in it. Yeah, there you are. His stomach drops and his nostrils flare with a deep breath. You look great, but he can't see your ass. Right behind you, there's Billy. 
Why Billy? He's impossible to hate. At least he's also impossible to tame. No way it goes beyond this vacation. But if anyone can make him wanna change, it might be you. Joel used to think Billy had it made, but he's a lonely guy underneath it all.
—---you------
Four of you are eating breakfast at a table for six in the dining hall. You're sitting across from Billy.
“Can’t miss with Billy’s Bistro. Never burn the toast, never give ya salmonella . . .” 
“Salmonella?” Your friend Kari asks. “Was there an outbreak here?” 
Billy has a spoon in his mouth, but his eyes widen. He looks back and forth between all three of you as he slowly swallows his chia pudding, then says, “Explains the Groupon, doesn't it?” 
“Gross,” Kari pushes her plate away. 
Billy shrugs, then looks at you. “Billy’s bistro,” he mouths with a subtle sparkle in his eyes. His face softens, then comes to life when he looks behind you. 
“There he is,” Billy announces. 
You look back and do a double take. Your heart skips a beat, and your eyes widen. Joel gives you a nod of acknowledgement. 
He’s wearing swim trunks, and his thighs look massive. All of him does. Did the memories fade, or did he manage to put on 10 lbs of muscle in what, two months? His hair is longer – only an inch or so, but enough to curl. You can’t stop staring. Your face is cold and tingly.
“Have a seat, mate.” Billy uses his foot to push out the chair to his right, at the head of the table. He puts his hand on Joel's hulking trapezius as he sits down. 
“Joel Miller. This man is a legend,” Billy tells you.
You glance at your friends, and they're as shocked as you. They met Joel once, at the restaurant. 
“Taught me how to roll my first joint,” Billy says. “Now I can't even get’m to take a bong rip.” He turns to Joel. “That was some good shit ya brought, mate.”
“Yeah,” Joel says barely above a whisper, glancing at you.
“Hey Joel,” your friend Nahlah says. 
“Hey, Nahlah.” 
You had barely let him sit down to say hello at that restaurant. 
“So you know each other,” Billy concludes. “Brilliant! What a world.”
“Yeah, we know each other,” Joel subtly nods, looking at you. He looks tired.
“Do they know the new you?” Billy asks. 
“The new you?” you ask Joel. 
“Health nut.” Billy grabs Joel's arm, beaming. “Look at’m.” He turns his attention to Joel. “On the straight and narrow. Can't believe it.”   
“Really?” you ask Joel. 
Joel sighs and side-eyes Billy. “No. Just had to, kinda. . . get my life together for a minute.”
It’s a punch to the gut. Getting his life together meant dropping you? That’s where he went? Your face burns, and your nostrils flare. 
“Excuse me,” you tell the rest of them, and stand up with heat in your chest, determined not to make a scene.  
“Catch up later,” Billy says and reaches for you as you come around Joel’s chair. You lean in and he gives you a kiss on the cheek. You don't look back on your way out the door. 
You get down to the beach, take off your sandals, and walk, heading nowhere in particular. 
Soon enough, Joel is calling your name, jogging. You keep walking, but he catches up. He walks beside you in silence, between you and the ocean. You try to ignore the stride of his hulking form in your periphery. 
“Guess I don’t fit in your new life,” you mutter, then swallow the knot in your throat and put your shades on, even though it’s not sunny. You keep walking. 
“Yeah ya do, baby,” he reaches for your hand. The tenderness almost gets to you, but it’s out of nowhere. You just can’t. You cross your arms and slow your pace. 
“Guess I never did,” you mumble. 
“I’m sorry.” Joel looks at you. You keep looking down, taking slow, careful steps. 
“For what?” you ask, looking at the sand for an answer.
“Bein’ a fuckin’ idiot. Wrapped up in my own shit.” 
“What shit?” you ask. 
“I’ll tell ya everything, but–” 
“--But what?” 
“We’re supposed to head out in like (he looks at his watch) fuck. Like ten minutes.” 
You scoff. “Did something happen?”
“No—well, yeah.” He looks around then asks, “You okay?”
You don’t answer. 
“You looked happy,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder toward the dining hall. It sounds more like a question than an observation. Yeah, you were finally having a good time without him until he showed up. Now you’re confused, and mad at him for confusing you. 
You stop in your tracks and turn to face him and the water. “What happened? You couldn’t even text me?” 
The sky gets darker as thicker cloud cover creeps over the sun. “I should’ve,” Joel nods. 
You barely have the energy to walk. You sit down on the sand. He better tell you, right now, if there's any hope.
He swallows and looks down and away, then takes off his sunglasses and joins you on the sand.  “Got in my head,” he mumbles. “So many times, I was gonna. . .even walked to your door one night.” 
“.. .okay?” You wait for him to continue. 
“Thought ya might think I was lame, cause I wasn’t the same, I was. . .” 
“You were trying to get your life together,” you recite, genuinely trying to digest it for the first time. A tear falls out of your eye and you angrily wipe it away.
He shakes his head. “Never shoulda said it that way. I had somethin’ to take care of. Tell ya ‘bout it when we've got time” 
The lump is back in your throat, full force. He’s really gonna swoop in just long enough to make you sad, then leave you as confused as ever.
He looks dejected. “I know, I’m an idiot.” 
“So what do you want?” you ask. 
He looks at the sea for a moment. “To start over.” 
“Why?” you ask and wipe away more tears. Your voice becomes strained. “What do you regret?” 
“Nothin’, pumpkin. . . shit, I’m so bad at this.” He groans in frustration at himself. “And I know it, that’s why I. . .” he trails off and shakes his head. 
You glance at his eyes and curse yourself for a twinge of empathy.
He claws a handful of the dry sand between you into a little pile and mumbles, “You deserve better, always did.” He smoothes out the pile, then pivots to face more in your direction. “Look at me, pumpkin’. Please.” He reaches for your sunglasses. You pull back your head away and take them off yourself.  You turn and face him. He wipes his hand off on his shirt before brushing tears off your cheek with his thumb. “Only thing I regret is bein’ such a dick.” 
You begin to stand up, not wanting to feel him suddenly leave you again.  Once you’re standing, you cross your arms again. You dig the toes of one foot into the sand.  Joel’s hands gently engulf each of your elbows, and he gets as close as he can. You don’t pull away, but you don’t open up either. He hugs you anyway. 
God, his arms are huge. He holds you tight and breathes into your hair. He mutters, “Think about you all the time.” You let out a held breath, then his scent fills your lungs. A wave of affection threatens to break down your walls.
Your arms uncross on their own, and he hugs you with his body fully against yours. It feels like a warm mistake. It’s too late now. 
“Ya know, I would’ve done it with you,” you sniffle. “Whatever this lifestyle thing. . .” 
He whispers your name and hugs you tighter. He holds you for a minute, and you dab your eyes on his hulking shoulder. The weight of his arms is as soothing as his scent. This isn’t fixed, you tell yourself. You’re not going to pick up where you left off. If he invited you back to his room right now, you wouldn’t go. But somehow, you feel for him. You’ve never seen him anxious or vulnerable. He’s always been so sure of himself. So full of himself, but in a charming way.
You begin to pull away, still determined not to be the one who gets left. “Guess you’ve gotta go,” you mutter. 
He looks sad as he slowly drops his arms, running his hands down your back. “Talk when you’re home?”
You sigh and look at your feet. Your self-preservation instincts tell you to cut him off. Quit him while you can. While you have the upper hand. While he can’t hurt you worse than he has. “What can’t you say right now?”
“A lot,” he answers without missing a beat. He seems to glance at your neck, but you can’t be sure. 
You shake your head no. 
“Please. Then I’ll leave ya ‘lone if ya want.” His eyes shift away. Does he mean that? Your eyes cloud up again, and you put your glasses back on. 
“I dunno.” You walk back to the main building in silence and slip on your sandals on the way in.  Joel hugs you goodbye. It feels like he doesn’t want to let go, and you don’t want him to either. Your arms faintly itch as he walks away, and you brush off the sand.
After Joel leaves, your friends finish eating and emerge from the dining hall. 
“Where’s Billy?” you ask. 
“He has a lesson,” Nahlah says. 
-
You go back to your room and take a shower, trying to wash it all away, but Joel’s presence lingers, even as you turn off the water. You lie on your bed looking at the ceiling. Nahlah and Kari are on the other bed, watching ghost hunters on the free cable. 
“How was last night?” Kari asks. 
You sigh and mutter, “I need a nap.” 
“I bet you do,” Nahlah teases. 
You drift off, hoping everything will sort itself out while you dream. 
You sleep for hours and wake up alone, without the clarity you’d hoped for, except that you resent what Joel’s doing.  You’re already falling under his spell again, and you don’t like it.  It would be too easy for him to break your heart again. You know what could take your mind off it. 
-
You walk down to the shore, and Billy is finishing up a lesson. He sees you and nods toward the shack. You let yourself in and wait on the sofa, emo and increasingly horny. 
He comes through the door and takes off his long sleeves. He tousles his hair and stretches his neck with his hand on the tattoo. He takes a sip from a squeeze bottle, then asks, “You alright? What happened earlier?” 
“Nothing,” you rest your head in your left hand, with your elbow on the arm of the loveseat. 
“He’s a good guy,” Billy says, then looks at his watch and shifts gears. “Got fifteen minutes.” 
He joins you on the loveseat, then leans over you, pressing a kiss into your lips and pulling you closer. The kiss is loaded. You welcome his tongue, soothed by his touch, but your energy is gone. You’re practically catatonic compared to before. He kisses you for a few more seconds, then breaks away and asks, “You alright?” 
You nod and kiss him back, then reach for his shorts, cupping his semi-hard package. 
He breaks away and reads your eyes. “‘S’alright, love.” 
He pulls away entirely and slumps into the loveseat, using the opposite arm as a pillow. “C’mere,” he mumbles, and opens his arms. You lay face down on his warm, bare chest, beads of sea water transferring to your beach dress—through one of its crochet holes, a pierced nipple teases your skin.  
Billy holds you. You lie there, relaxed, one leg over his. A tear rolls out of your eye and onto his hot skin. “Shh,” He rubs your back for a few minutes, his chest rising and falling under you. His cock twitches against your thigh between his legs, and a shock of desire zaps through you. His hips lift slightly, just once, and your eyes flutter open. He sucks back his chin to look down at you, then his fingers lift your chin to look at him. You’re no longer crying at all. 
“There she is,” he murmurs, with his pupils widening before your eyes. He reads your eyes and glances at your lips. “Fucking gorgeous.” His face drifts toward yours, your neck extends, and his lips nudge your upper lip before your mouths come together. You prop yourself up with your forearm so neither of you has to strain your neck. The kiss starts languidly, then heats up and his hands come to your hips. As you kiss, his hips lift into you, and his cock hardens against your quad. As he licks into your mouth, you slowly grind on his thigh. He breaks away, searches your eyes, and whispers, “attagirl,” before claiming your lips again. With your limbs slotted together, you make out, grind, and quietly grunt.
For a while, your thoughts are gone, then Joel walks back into your head. You wonder how good he’d fuck you now, if he thinks it’s his last chance. Still moving on Billy’s thigh with your mouth half-connected with his, your breaths get heavy with desire. Would Joel be rough? Would he be tender? Would he be how he is so often–ravenous, but deliberate and appreciative of every inch of your body? You imagine his cock shoving into you and the way he’d sigh, yeah. 
Now you’re gushing wet, already about to cum. You break the kiss to moan, and Billy breathes, “Yeah, good girl.” He grinds against you and his hands move you on his bare thigh, now coated with your slick. “Fuck, that wet for me.” Not just for him, but, yeah, that wet. His cock has hardened against your hip. “Mmm,” he moans into your mouth as his lips take yours again. Joel’s a good kisser too. A little more forceful, but still smooth. You’re thinking about Joel being under you. Imagining the first time you were in Joel’s basement, when he pulled you into his lap so decisively. You’re on the edge of bliss, sliding on Billy’s thigh. You bite your lip, then moan. “Yeah,” Billy encourages you. 
When it’s clear you’re not quite there, Billy breathes, “Sit on me. C’mere.”
His mouth hangs slightly open, and his eyes are black with lust. You carefully lift your knee off the cushion between his legs, and the light touch of his hand helps you on top of him as he watches, spellbound. You lower yourself at just the right angle and moan at the first direct contact with the stiff shape in his shorts. Your eyelids are heavy. 
He lifts up the hem of your beach dress, and you take it off. He moans at the sight of your body. 
His lips remain slightly parted as his hips lift, grinding against you. He palms a breast, and you massage your other one. He begins to reach between you, fingertips sliding into his waistband, then looks behind you at the clock. “Sit on my face.” 
He scoots down to put his head flat on the cushion, and you rise off his shorts. He takes his cock out with a sigh and spits on his fingers as you knee walk forward. He spreads the spit on his cock and breathes vocally, eyes on your tits. You could swear you smell his precum. 
He unties your swimsuit bottom and lets half of it fall, leaving your slippery cunt bare. His palms on your ass bring you down, and his scruff drags against your inner thigh. His warm, humid breath envelopes your most sensitive place, then his lips make contact.
One hand leaves you to attend to his raging erection, and he grunts a short “mm” into your cunt at the relief. He laps at your entrance, licking upward, then latches onto the space just above that. He licks your clit, then sucks. He moans into the bundle of nerves, and your thighs tremble. He breaks away for short moments, breathing hot against your folds as he strokes his cock behind you. He eats you voraciously, and you whimper. He’s at just the right spot, doing just the right thing, and he keeps at it.
You brace your hands on the arm of the sofa and think about Joel looking up at you from between your legs. You take a deep breath and see stars. Your body twitches and you moan, riding your waves, with Billy moaning into your cunt. He gently laps at your entrance and strokes himself faster. As your climax wanes, you rise off his mouth, with Billy still stroking himself, not finished. He gathers slick from your folds, brings it to his cock, then pants pants, “How ‘bout another?” He begins to pull you back down.
“No,” you whisper, “that was perfect.” You allow him to keep you there, hovering over him. 
“Wanna ride?” His voice is shaky as he keeps pumping his cock behind you. 
“Not now,” you answer. 
He turns his head slightly, seals his lips on your thigh, and sucks. You reach down between your legs and grab hold of his damp, salty hair to pry him off. 
“Mmm,” he responds,“Yeah.” His strokes are heavier and so are his breaths. You experimentally tug at his hair again. He shudders, then paints his stomach in cum, with a warm squirt reaching your ass. 
He scoots out from under you and asks for the third time, “you alright?” 
You tie your swimsuit again and settle into the loveseat, face and chest still heated from your peak. “Yeah,” you nod. 
He fixes his swim trunks then prowls toward you to give you a gentle kiss and you taste yourself on his lips. “You’re tasty, love,” he murmurs, then pulls away. 
He puts on his rash guard, then points at you, “Aqua tonight.”  Right, his DJ thing. He gets off the loveseat and looks at the clock. “Before I forget,” He grabs his bag and unzips a front pocket that looks to be full of condoms and pill baggies. He turns his head to ask, “How many of ya?” 
“Three, I guess.” 
He rummages around, then holds up a little baggie with three pills. “Just a little X.” 
“Oh, I dunno if we’ll–” 
He shrugs. “Might try it.” He looks at the clock and mutters, “shit.”  
He presses the baggie into your palm and closes your hand. He holds up a few condoms and asks, “just in case?”. 
---Joel----
On the road, Tommy and Maria talk and listen to music. In the back seat, Joel looks out the window, or he wants to look out the window, but he looks at his reflection. He can’t shake the feeling of your warm tears wetting his shirt, or the image of you kissing Billy, or the glance at what he’s pretty sure was a hickey on your neck. He’d be surprised if it wasn’t after what he saw the night before. 
The further they get from the resort, the more Joel’s chest tightens. He takes out his phone to text you. He types, “I can’t leave you with him,” stares at it for a few seconds, then erases it. 
Who even is he anymore?  
Something clicks. 
At a stoplight, he says, “Stop at that gas station.” Tommy parks at a pump. They need gas anyway., “Open the hatch,”  Joel says. Tommy pops the trunk and gets out of the car to pump gas. Joel grabs his bag from the back and Tommy does a double take. 
“You goin’ back?” Tommy asks, not shocked. 
“Yeah.” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll find my way home.” 
“We can take ya back,” Tommy offers, nodding in the direction of the resort. 
“Nah,” Joel scratches the back of his neck. “Need the fresh air.”
He and Tommy share a brief, manly hug and pat on the back, then Joel walks off with his bag on one shoulder.
-
Joel’s coming for you. He might not have the right words, but he doesn’t need them. Never did. None of this was built on words. It was something unspoken under something physical and fierce. He pockets his phone and puts on his shades, walking with new resolve. There are things he wants to tell you, and some of them need words, but not all of them. The words can wait. They’ll come easier when you’re back where you belong. 
Two hours later, he’s back at the hotel. He smells his own sweat soaking through his shirt, and his phone’s about to overheat.
“Long time no see,” the receptionist says. 
“Yeah,” Joel mumbles without humor, then forces a smile. He gets a room, puts his things away, then heads out to find you. 
You’re not at the pool. You’re not in any of the common areas. 
He goes down to the beach, toward the surf lessons. 
-
Billy’s showing off for a customer. Joel sits in the sand and waits. He admires the way Billy moves in the water, resenting him at the same time. 
When Billy’s done, he walks up to Joel. Joel’s eyes fall on Billy’s swim trunks, then his mind goes to your hands, your mouth, your perfect cunt.  
Billy extends his hand, and pulls Joel up. He pats Joel’s arm, then lets him go. “Got some time if ya wanna catch a wave.” 
“Where is she?” Joel asks. 
“I dunno, mate. Prob’ly with her friends?” He motions for Joel to follow him to the shack. Years ago, Billy more or less offered Joel a handjob in that shack. Joel declined, and that was that. 
As they enter the shack, Billy unzips his quarter-zip long-sleeve top and pulls it off. He takes a sip of water, then wipes off his mouth. “So,” Billy starts. “What’s the story?” He turns up the water bottle again and it makes a high pitched sound as he sucks it. “Ex-lovers?” he asks with a smile. 
Joel’s jaw clenches. He takes a breath through his nose and calms himself. “Not ex.” 
Billy chokes on his water, then wipes his mouth again. “Does she know that?” 
Joel rakes his hand through his hair, at a loss. “That’s my girl,” he nods, heart pounding. 
“I don’t think she is, mate. Women aren’t property-” 
“-cut the crap, Billy.” Joel’s chest is heaving. 
Billy’s eyes fall to Joel’s right hand, which is flexing into a fist. 
“Hit me if it makes ya feel better,” Billy puts down the water bottle and braces himself in a welcoming stance. 
This fucker. No, Joel isn’t going to hit him. 
Joel forces himself to relax, puts his hands on his hips and shifts his weight, shaking his head at the floor. 
Billy lunges toward him, light on his feet as if he’s gonna sucker punch Joel. It’s playful, but Joel drops his shoulder and tackles him to the floor before he can get in a jab. 
On the floor, Billy fights back, eyes wild, but Joel’s too strong. He pins him with his left forearm on his chest, straddling him. 
Billy grabs Joel’s left tricep. “Look at that,” he marvels. “Unbelievable.” 
Joel looks into the blue eyes staring up at him and wonders if you’ve had this POV. For a brief moment, he’s tempted to slide his forearm up to his neck. Billy looks at Joel’s right hand which opens and shuts in the air, stretching.  
“I can take it,” Billy urges. “C’mon, knock me around.” 
Billy’s enthusiasm takes the wind out of Joel’s sails and brings him back to reality. He releases his forearm and sits back on his knees, still bracketing Billy’s hips. Joel slowly stands with a groan, then helps Billy to his feet. 
—- Later at Aqua —--
Billy has given you the closest VIP table. You and your friends are sitting there with a drink. He points at you from his DJ booth, which is on a raised platform. All three of you hold up your drinks and smile at him. 
Kari and Nahlah have had their eyes on a couple of guys who are finally approaching. It's a group of three. You decline to dance, so the third guy sits down to have a drink with you instead, shouting over the music, “HOW LONG ARE YOU IN TOWN?” You look past the man, and Billy is laughing, looking down at his mixer board. After indulging the man for another minute or so, you excuse yourself to the restroom, hoping the man will take the hint and disappear in your absence.
On the way to the restroom, you pass a couple of dark rooms with hall windows and suspect people might be fucking in there. The half-pill you’ve taken isn’t doing anything, but you know better than to double it just yet. 
When you come out from the restroom, the guy is still at your table. You curse him under your breath and head outside for some fresh air.
-
You duck out a door that’s propped open. Smokers are milling about. A few partiers are comforting a crying friend. You walk just far enough to get some space from that scene and the artificial light. You lean against the brick wall to breathe. The tiniest droplets of sea water tingle merrily on your face. You open your mouth and can taste it in the air. You fill your lungs and savor the breath. A buzz hums from your skin.
Your dress has a slit on one side and is long enough that you can lift your knee and rest one foot on the wall behind you without exposing yourself—but that wouldn’t be the end of the world anyway. You watch palm leaves rustle in the ocean breeze and look at the sky. There are more stars here than at home. Maybe you should take a walk. 
You’re still gazing into the sky when you notice someone in a colorful shirt approaching. They flick their cigarette away and it sparks. You smile, and as they come into focus, they turn into Joel. 
Are you rolling that hard after half a pill? You’ve still got your wits about you, don’t you? You watched Joel leave this morning, and you’ve never seen him dressed like this. The colors vibe perfectly on his silk shirt, and a gold chain sparkles underneath. His curls are fluffier than earlier. 
He slowly approaches and wets his lips when he’s a few feet away. His eyes rove your body. When he’s close enough, he rests his hand on the brick wall to lean over you. He smells like cloves. He looks tired. He leans a little closer, and you look him in the eyes. 
“Thought you left,” you mutter.
He shakes his head, and continues to gaze into your eyes. “Couldn’t do it.” 
You run a hand up his chest, palm gliding across his shirt. His chest is strong, and the fabric is like cool shaving cream under your fingers. In the back of your mind, you still have so many questions, but you don’t ask them. Not now. 
“You can be mad at me,” his brows knit and he nods twice. ”I deserve that.”  His eyes lock on yours.  “But I'm not gonna let ya go.” 
Your nipples harden with a chill, and your lips part.  
His gaze falls from your eyes to your lips, and you tilt your chin up. His eyes fall further, to your neck, and he inhales sharply through his nose. You turn your head the other way. Still braced on the wall, he nudges your chin so he can look at the bruising. You feel his heart rate quicken under your hand, and you slide your hand up to the cold sweat beading on his neck. 
His thumb brushes over the bruising. He brings his mouth and nose to the other side and grazes your sensitive skin with his nose. His tongue teases you and you shiver, then he plants his lips. He grunts softly as he marks you. His breath hits your wet skin as he lingers there to murmur, “Missed how ya taste.” 
He returns to the bruised side of your neck and licks the mark, tenderly, then harder. It’s sore, but you don’t react. For a moment, his lips lay plush and soft against your damaged skin. Then he opens his mouth wide. He scrapes his teeth, then plants his lips and sucks, and you try not to flinch but let out a little gasp. He tongues and sucks at it for almost five seconds before releasing you. 
He soothes the spot with the light touch of his lips, then kisses up your jaw, to your ear, where he murmurs, “What are you on, and how much?”
You tell him. 
“Should be fine,” he mutters to himself as he pulls his head back. 
“Why?”
He looks back and forth between your eyes. “Wanna make sure you remember.” 
You wet your lips and swallow. 
He’s close enough that his body heat enhances yours. His whole presence is a warm embrace. You half-heartedly try to conjure what you went through earlier—the hurt, the resolve not to let it happen again. You can’t find it under your affection, wonder, and empathy. Something tells you it’s going to be okay. 
He looks at your neck again. 
You open your mouth to apologize, but he cuts you off, “Shh.” He takes your hand and leads you back inside. 
-
It’s dark, minus the red and pink lights washing over the dance floor, which is crowded but not quite packed. He gets two soda waters from the bar, and you sit down in the VIP booth. He has his arm around you, caressing your shoulder. Soon, you have your legs in his lap, just happy to have him close. You reach into your dress for the small plastic baggie. Joel is watching the dance floor and idly stroking your leg as you pour the other piece of the pill into your hand. Some of it is powder by now. Joel’s eyes return just in time to see you put it on your tongue. 
He squeezes your chin to open your mouth, then, with the same hand, sticks two massive fingers between your lips to retrieve the pill. “You don’t need this,” he mutters, then sticks what remains of the pill in his mouth and takes a sip of water.  “What else ya got in there?” Joel feels you up through the fabric on and around your tits, and his eyebrows shoot up when his hand catches on something.
He shoves his hand down your dress and finds it tucked under your arm: a small, foil square. He turns it over and the clear backing reveals a glow-in-the-dark condom. He tosses it onto the table, then pulls you tighter against him. Your hip brushes a warm bulge in his soft black pants, and it twitches. These pants would be so easy to slip your hand into, you just know it. But before you can try, he brings his mouth to your ear. “C’mon, let’s dance.” 
-
On the dance floor, Joel stands behind you, and his heavy arms snake around your torso. He moves with you, with the music, and runs his palms over your dress. His dick hardens, and those silky pants leave nothing to the imagination as the vivid outline grinds against you. You lose yourself in his touch, in the soft rub of his cock, until you sense someone watching and glance toward the DJ booth. Billy smiles to himself and goes back to his mixing board. Joel shamelessly grabs your tit again. You’re already so wet for him.  In the corner of your eye, you see Billy still watching but pretend you don’t notice. 
“You’re so damn hot,” Joel growls right against your ear as he massages your breast and grinds against you with his arm crossing your body and one hand on your hip.  “Uggh,” he groans in arousal. He jostles behind you, adjusting his pants, then gathers the long skirt of your dress. He covers your ass with himself before the air has a chance to hit you. Then his hard, naked cock slides between your thighs. You gasp and look back. He kisses the side of your neck. You’re gushing all over him. Your thong is soaked through, and he’s sliding along your folds, hot and hard. He moans in your ear. His tip pushes the front of your dress out with every thrust through that warm, wet sleeve of your thighs against your cunt. 
Each pass of his tip makes you need him so bad. You turn your head back to say, “Let’s go somewhere.” 
“You want it?” he asks and slides out from your thighs, reaching down between you to put his dick away before letting your skirt down. 
You nod and begin to lead him to the restroom, but he firmly holds your elbow. You turn around and put your arms around his neck to plead, “Let’s go,” nodding toward the bathrooms. He grabs your ass and grinds against your front, raging hard.  He holds you close and you give up for the moment. 
He dips his head and noses your chin up. His lips brush a sore area, and you twitch. You slot your fingers into his curly locks, making him growl silently into your skin. "Joel," you sigh. "Let's go."
Either he doesn't hear you or pretends not to.  "Mmm," his hum vibrates into your skin. He pries his lips off your neck only to plant them on your mouth. Your tongues meet, and you need him, you really need him. Now. 
After a few seconds of bliss, you break the kiss to plead, "Let’s go." He reads your face and shakes his head no as a dim red light falls over you in passing. Your mouth falls open in protest. He grinds against you, letting his answer sink in. And in case there's any doubt, he brings his lips to your ear. "Gonna take it right here." 
He gathers the front of your dress. You swallow, stunned and throbbing in anticipation. 
He takes his cock out under your dress, then lifts one of your thighs, and you hook it around him. He keeps your raised knee against him. Your shoes are just the right height. He pulls your thong to the side and there’s no mistaking how wet and ready you are. Right away, he notches at your entrance. You tilt your hips. His fingers dig into your thigh and the plush of your ass. He plunges in with a grunt, pushing a gasp out of you as he divides your walls in what feels like slow motion. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back as his cock makes its place inside you. He holds you against himself, and your leg stays hiked up as he retreats, then begins to slide into you to the beat of the music. He brings his lips to your ear. “Ohh–good girl.”
You’d envisioned this every day since the last time and somehow forgot it was this good. He holds you close, his body flexing, expertly moving inside yours. You’ve missed this, you’ve really missed it. He grunts and moans into your hair, unrestrained. The music is loud enough. 
“Fuck, you’re hot,” he practically shouts, holding you by the ass and thigh as he fucks up into you. It’s a thrill being full of his cock in a sea of people. The song changes and you glance toward the DJ booth. Billy is looking right at you. Joel’s pace slows to match the new tempo. You melt into his arms with the perfect shape of his length dragging between your walls. Billy’s eyes smile, and he slowly nods. You catch him adjusting himself just below the DJ table which makes your walls twitch. You bite your lip. 
The grip of Joel’s fingers tightens, pressing firmly into your flesh. Billy’s hand is still below the mixing table when Joel turns your face back toward him and kisses you. Everything else fades away except his mouth on yours and his cock thrusting into you. The smooth slide of his tongue makes you twitch. His thrusts become sharper, deeper with the aid of his bruising grip, and your mouths break apart with labored breaths and moans. God, you’re wet, and only getting wetter. 
Joel searches your eyes as he thrusts into you. The lights wash over you again, and his pupils are wide. You gaze at each other, and you hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in his long curls as he slowly fucks you on the dance floor. There’s a glance from one or two dancers, but no one cares. 
You steal another glance at Billy, and he looks to be in a trance with his mouth hanging slightly open. He wets his lip and he closes his mouth, then runs his hand through his hair. You bury your face in Joel’s neck, and his familiar scent enhances everything. Pleasure is building more with each thrust of his cock making you whole. Nothing compares to this.
Joel grunts and sighs, and twitches. “Ohh, fuck,” he sighs. Is he going to come like this? God, he’s sexy. He tilts his head down and noses your nose so your chin tilts up and he finds your lips again. He kisses you sloppily, loosely, breathing and grunting, and the way he fills you up— shit, he feels good. Are you going to come like this? 
“Don’t let me fall,” you plead. 
He stares at your lips and his mouth draws yours in. He bottoms out and stays deep, moving in short pulses, holding you so your front grinds against his. 
You break the kiss to sigh, “Fuck.” You whimper against his lips as it overtakes you in slow motion. You don’t hold back. The moan rips out of your chest as your body clenches around his. You pulse, and your body spasms. He holds you tighter. “Ohh,” you moan.
“Oh, baby,” He pants. Each thrust is sharp. “Oh, fuck,” he bottoms out and groans as he pulses powerfully.  “Ohhh.” He holds you still as you milk his cock. “Ohh, gg–unghhh.” When he’s nearly spent, an air horn sounds.  Joel groans, and you both look toward Billy. He nods and gives a low thumbs up as the last of Joel’s cum dribbles into you. Joel laughs into your hair, “I’m gonna kill’m.”  
Joel dips his knees to let his cock slide out. He lets your leg down, then your dress, and fixes his pants. He holds you for a whole song. His cum dribbles down your thigh, and you don't even wipe it with your dress. 
“Let's get outta here.” 
You look for your friends, and they're still with the guys from earlier. Joel waits as you go over and say goodbye. When you return, he puts his arm around you as you walk outside.
Outside, he hugs you as you wait for an uber.  The night has dulled your anxiety, but it’s still there somewhere, and it reveals itself as you think about spending the night with him.
“I still don’t understand,” you whisper.
“I know, baby. Ya will. Promise.”
“Can you just answer one thing?”  He waits for your question.  “Who drives a black Mercedes?” 
You pull back to watch him react.
“Black Mercedes. . .” His brow furrows and he searches the pavement for an answer.
“The SUV you were in.” 
“Oh, pumpkin’,” his face softens.  “Just my lawyer, baby.” He kisses you on the forehead, which pauses your thoughts and weakens your eyes. 
Your phone buzzes with a call from Kari, but the call cuts off. Kari hasn’t texted, but in your messaging app, there’s a new group thread with three unread:
“come over to mine,” Billy had texted minutes ago. Then, “key’s under the cactus.”
Joel had already responded, “not tonight.” 
---
---
---
if you want the lore about the surf shack in didn't years ago here it is
I'm watching the comments and rbs for what people are excited about and what people want to see 👀
Thank you so much for reading. I really appreciate your patience and support. Your love of night walks Joel and investment in these two makes me really happy. Love you guys 🖤
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