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punkshort · 7 months

Text

somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03 @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts@picketniffler@pedroslittlelady

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #sheriff!joel #waitress reader #STR fic

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lexirosewrites · 26 days

Note

i don't know if i've mentioned this idea before, but i'm popping into slick sunday thinking about single parent omega steve and alpha eddie.

steve, who is a little wary about dating after his "fling" abandoned him when he found out he was pregnant. it's been four to five years on his own, raising his daughter the best he can. he still has robin (thank god; he doesn't know what he would do without her) but he's hesitant to bring anyone new into the fold. romantically, at least. they do just fine on their own. his biggest fear is his little girl getting attached to someone who won't stay.

enter eddie, who first sees steve from afar and is instantly enamored. he needs to talk to him, learn more about this beautiful omega who, he assumes, is another volunteer at the event they're both at. he realizes that isn't the case a few moments later when steve's daughter runs into his arms. in eddie's mind, pretty omega + young pup = someone already claimed. he's not close enough to look for a ring, or necklace, or bond bite, but he assumes. his first mistake.

after that first encounter, eddie sees steve around a lot, actually. almost always at some children's event or another, eddie always a volunteer and steve always with his daughter. sometimes there's a woman with them, a pretty alpha that never strays far from steve and carries that pup around like she's hers. eddie thinks he kind of sees the resemblance. another assumption enters his brain. his second mistake.

things change, though, one day at the library. eddie is hosting a d&d event for some local teenagers. geeky geniuses that truly give eddie a run for his money. they're taking a brief break from their campaign when steve comes in with his daughter, alone. the pup lights up at the sight of the teens, waving and bouncing excitedly. steve smiles and starts chatting with one of the boys, another picking up the pup and spinning her around. the interaction is brief before eddie watches steve wave to the others and direct his pup to the children's section of the library. eddie catches a glimpse of the two pulling a couple picture books off the shelves before he's calling the party back into play.

post-campaign, and a little while after steve and his pup have left with a new book, eddie has to ask. he didn't know the teens he hosted d&d for at the library knew the omega he's seen around lately. he's informed that they've all known steve for years. he used to drive them around a lot and looked out for them when they were younger. he'd always been there when they needed anything. eddie had wanted to ask about the pup's other parent, maybe the alpha he saw him with, find out if steve was with anyone, but he ultimately decided it wasn't an appropriate question to ask the teens. it was a little invasive, and as his uncle wayne would probably put it, absolutely none of his damn business. though he would very much like it to be his business.

from there, eddie uses this is an in. he gets up the courage to finally approach steve and talk to him, mentioning the teens and d&d and how eddie had been volunteering at a lot of the events steve took his daughter to. he didn't mention the alpha woman from before, or the pup's parent. he stayed away from any relationship questions at all, using every ounce of self control in his body. he had resolved to be friends with steve, that's it. he didn't want to press.

it doesn't take too long, though, for eddie to finally discover the truth. the alpha from before was steve's best friend, robin. his pup's other parent wasn't in the picture. he hasn't dated anyone since before his daughter was born. eddie wants steve so bad, but after hearing what happened with the pup's father, and how steve has since practically sworn off dating, he respects that decision. he keeps himself at an arm's length. he and steve are friends, and nothing more. he doesn't push that boundary, no matter how much he may want to.

anyway, blah blah blah, steve eventually realizes he's allowed to have things for himself blah blah blah he and eddie get together whatever.

skip to a couple months into their relationship. they've not officially been together long. they don't even live together. steve wanted to take things slow and eddie was more than happy to oblige. steve's daughter knows eddie well by now (again, steve and eddie were friends. eddie's hung out with them many times) and eddie had recently been reintroduced to her as steve's boyfriend. the pup was, obviously, ecstatic about this. she loves eddie. eddie's fun. and he always makes their little family so happy.

so anyway, they're all sitting in steve's living room. there's a cartoon on the small tv, and steve's pup is drawing at the coffee table. she's armed with a thick stack of pretty construction paper (provided by eddie), crayons, markers, and glitter glue. steve and eddie are on the couch, cuddled together and talking. eddie occasionally looks over to watch as the pup draws, in love with the determined scrunch on her face that reminds him so much of steve. after a while, he finally asks what she's working so hard on.

she looks up with a smile, holding up a piece of paper with three stick figures and mounds of glitter glue. "it's our family," she says simply, beginning to point at the figures. "that's me, that's daddy, and that's you."

eddie can already feel the tears bubbling up as he asks, "i'm in your family portrait?"

"obviously," she replies with a dramatic sigh and roll of her eyes. "why wouldn't you be? you're, like, my dad, right? you're gonna marry daddy, and that makes you my dad too. we're a family."

and there it is. eddie's crying, nodding quickly. "oh yeah, absolutely."

steve and eddie had never even discussed marriage before then, but that night, eddie knew he would marry steve in a heartbeat if he let him. and that was also the night that steve realized he had nothing to worry about. his daughter loved eddie, and eddie wasn't going anywhere. he was in it for the long haul, and had already proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he loved steve's pup as if she were his own. maybe everything would work out for him after all.

this got WAY longer than i anticipated but that seems to be a common theme for me 🫠 anyway, happy slick sunday, friend! i hope you enjoyed my little ramble about this story that is very near and dear to my heart :))

I LOVE🥺💕 single parent fics will always tie my heartstrings into knots and make me want to cry. they’re just so beautiful😭😭😭

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #my asks #mpreg #cw mpreg #tw mpreg

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cillianhead · 9 months

Text

Strawberry Syrup || Cillian Murphy

summary: A hot day by the pool with your desperate boyfriend <3

Warnings: SMUT!! Dubcon Themes, Unprotected P in V, oral (f receiving), fingering, sex in the pool, public sex, Daddy kink, Food Play (LISTEN.... DON'T ACTUALLY DO THIS STUFF BC ITS UNSANITARY!! (it could give you a UTI or a yeast infection or anything like that D: ), sorta switch!Cillian, squirting, Adult content!! (some sorta self insert bits that are a bit toooooo personal but it's just like a mention of reader having tattoos and stuff hehe) (Age Gap mentions, Cillian is older, Reader is in her mid 20s and he's in his mid 30s) (Cillian is a horndog in this basically)

Short fic since I haven't uploaded anything in a while.

((also stuff in italics... is sort of like memories or something (so stuff in italics isn't necessarily related to the plot... but it's gonna be mixed throughout the whole fic so just a reminder the stuff that is ITALICISED is all stuff that's either "thoughts" or "memories of the past"))

(also currency is talked about and I used the words "dollars" and "cents" because that's just what I'm used to saying? But I know there's like pounds and all the other currencies there are KDSKDSKD)

18+ MINORS DNI

Cillian had been incredibly needy lately, following you everywhere you went like a lost puppy. He just wanted your attention even though he got plenty of it. Well... maybe not this past week. Cillian and you went at it like rabbits, like at least three times a day everyday kind of thing. But you wondered how long it would take for him to get on his knees and beg after getting denied over and over and over again for you to give him (and specifically his raging boner) any sort of attention. You were surprised you had made it even to the seven-day mark. But here you were.

Cillian had turned into a total cranky mess. And you were loving it. Of course, he could get himself off... that's what made it so good, every morning you'd pretend you're asleep while you listened to the sound of him whimpering and whining like a bitch in heat and fisting his cock as he got off to the sight of you 'sleeping'.

And fuck the sweltering summer air didn't help. The aircon was broken and you'd gone through a dozen fans, trying to blow away the hot air. But the heat was making Cillian feel stir-crazy. He had to have you. No matter how hot it was, no matter how sweaty or dehydrated, he had to have you right fucking now.

He had done about a thousand fucking laps of his substantially large swimming pool, trying to work his pent-up frustration and energy out but it only did so well. He had swam until his legs were cramped up, and his eyes stung from the chlorine, leading them to be bloodshot and somehow miraculously making his eyes even bluer (bluer than the aquamarine pool). And there you lie. In that bikini you know is too tight. And he thinks to himself 'Why do you even bother to be in your bikini when it's just the two of us and I can fucking see your entire pussy through that thing anyway?'. You're reading some romance novel, and you're wet but not from the pool. Cillian is rock hard in his soaking and tight swimming shorts, the head of his cock is barely concealed from peaking out. He's dripping wet and he's angry.

"Why de fuck have you been denying me of sex for the past.... 7 days and 15 hours or however de fuck long it's been, girl?" He huffed, sitting down and carelessly grabbing your book (which was fucking printed and published in the 70s... IT CAN'T HANDLE THE WATER) and tossing it to the side, onto the wet ground. You gasp and reach out to grab your book that's been smashed in like a yam and wet and torn apart but Cillian grabs you by your forearms, brushing your new fresh tattoo (the reason you weren't swimming) and making you hiss.

"Ow... why would you do that, Cillian?" You scolded, wriggling in his hold. But you knew what was happening... he was finally taking charge. The thing you loved most about Cillian was how he was so giving and so desperate to please you at all times, like an obedient dog. He was madly in love with you and submissive to your demands, anything you wanted, you'd get. And you'd boss him around in the bedroom but that was fine because Cillian was in love with your pussy too, and whatever it took to get it, he'd do it... even if he had to dress up as a clown to do so. But he was also controlling when he got it most of the time. Though he was nearing 35, he was still like a teenager when it came to you. Dick was hard at just the sight of you and he immediately would need your hand or your mouth (if he was lucky) or even your tight pussy that always wrapped around him so perfectly. It didn't matter where you were... if he was driving, he'd get it... if you were in a public park on a Sunday night, he'd get it... if you were in a grocery store on a Black Friday sale (he'd get it), waiting in line as he ground himself into your ass until he came in his pants... It looked like he was just hugging you from behind. But you had to stand there in horror as he did so because you couldn't make a scene.

"Answer me question... babe..." He whispered as he pressed you down into the softly cushioned sunbathing chair. You were both being cooked in the sun but you were both lathered in sunscreen so it was fine. Oh, the horror on Cillian's face as he watched slather the white creamy liquid over your tits and rubbed the lotion in so incredibly sexually. You didn't even let him touch your tits for this whole week, he was suffering. But Cillian didn't care that his back was already beginning to sunburn, he fucking needed you now and honestly he was so pussy-hungry that he didn't care what it takes to get his dick inside of you. In his eyes you were the lamb and he was the depraved wolf, drooling at the sight of your trembling body beneath him. Ready to be covered in your blood.

"I just..." You shook your head and smiled to yourself, laughing out air as you bit your lip. "I just thought maybe I was letting you have it too much... you were becoming too spoiled..."

"What does that even mean?" He huffed and leaned in, resting his full body weight on top of you so you couldn't move and his hips were aligned with yours so his hard cock could press upright against your nice and warm core. Though still through his swimmers and your thin little bikini thong.

"F-Fuck..." You whimpered, honestly, you had been suffering too... even your vibrator couldn't do it for you, and just the mere pressure of his thick cock up against you... you felt like you could cum. You arched your back involuntarily. "I just... fuck... thought maybe we needed a tolerance break?"

"A fuckin' tolerance break... I'm not a drug darlin' and neither are you, baby you're just depriving yourself of what you need..." He growled right into the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your neck. "Let me in..." He was a bit drunk and horribly depraved and his voice was like gravel.

"Beg for it," You whispered out and Cillian groaned, this time fully collapsing in on you and laying his head in the crook of your neck, rocking his hips back and forth on yours. He humped you lazily and you allowed it, enjoying the whines he was making and the pleasure that was pulsing within you.

"Please... fucking hell... please..." He moaned with a cry. "I need you so bad... my hand won't do... it just won't do... please Y/N... please baby... let me fuck you... please... let me at least get a taste of ya once again..."

"Show me how good you can go down on me baby and I'll see if you're good enough to put your dick in me..." You hummed and he sighed as he began kissing you sloppily. "You can leave one mark... Cillian... ONE..."

"Thank you... thank you, sweet girl..." Cillian whined, hands beginning to cup your body cautiously. He was so afraid he was going to do something wrong and suddenly you'd deny him even the pleasure of having your clit in his mouth. But as he kissed down your chest his fingers trembled hesitantly over your bikini top, tits begging to be released. "Can I? Please?"

"Go ahead, Cill..." You hummed with a smug smile on your face. His hands instantly moved at your words of approval, tugging the fabric from off of your nipples and popping it into his mouth with a moan. Cillian's eyes closed as he sighed from his nose, finally satisfied for now. His thumb twiddled with your other nipple, causing you to let out breathy whimpers. "F-Fuck... Cillian..."

"Mmmm..." He groans, slobber dripping from his lips as he continues to rut himself into your hips. Cillian's hair was all messy from when he'd been in the pool, ends curling and falling over his face. He looked so pretty with your tit in his mouth.

"You're all mine..." You whispered, running your thumb along his razor-sharp cheekbone, skin softer than silk. "You're my property aren't you, Cillian?" You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, tugging on the roots of the longer hair that grew there. You pulled his head off of your nipple, his mouth agape and he whines like a brat.

"I'm yours, Y/N..." He huffs, leaning back down to keep sucking but you pulled harder on his neck as if he were a misbehaving kitten. "F-Fuck... I'm your property... darling... all yours... please... I just... I just want to please you..." "I know, honey..." You cooed with a smirk as you reached over to the table beside you and picked a strawberry from the batch and popped it in your mouth, sucking on it suggestively. "That's why you're gonna eat me out like your life depends on it..." You're amused as you watch him scramble to lie flat on his stomach between your legs and he watches as you take off your bikini bottoms and spread your legs open wide. His pupils dilated immediately at the sight.

"I've missed this so much," He whines, his voice breaking as he leans in and kisses your pussy. His eyes flutter close at the little taste of you, his mouth hovering ever so slightly above your cunt, not quite touching. His lips touch you again and as he licks up your pussy he moans and fully presses himself in there, snout buried into your clit as his tongue flickered in and out of your gushing hole.

"O-Oh... that's it..." You arch your back as you push his head further into your warmth. He was completely breathing you in now as your thighs squeezed your head but eventually, you felt two hands grab ahold of your shaky thighs and pin them down side by side until you were spread out. It was concerning how easily he was able to bend and shape you into different positions, molding you like clay. It helped that he was impossibly strong as he manhandled you down into this position, eating you out for his own pleasure, not yours.

You were a writhing mess and you felt embarrassed to admit that you were about to cum. "Fuck you need to slow down... need to slow down a bit for me... Cill..." You whimpered, moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear but you didn't care. But he only sped up, devouring you completely.

He was truly eating your pussy like his life depended on it because it did. Nothing else mattered to him but drinking down the sweet juice that your fruit of a pussy gave him. You may not be a drug but he was addicted to your cunt like it was one. Cillian had an obsession with you and he had an obsession with your perfect so-called 'heavenly' pussy. He wrote songs about you, he wrote poems about the euphoria of having your tight walls wrapped around him at all times, even during. Wet ink on wet skin, black ink smeared across your stomach as he wrote words that were coming into his mind, words you had inked on your skin with a tattoo machine later on.

"Cillian..." You whined loudly, your moan was pornographic, and with the way he could feel your heartbeat pounding against his tongue as he swirled it around your clit. His mouth was masterful and precise as you came on his face. He knew how to make you cum in a way no other did. You truly were soulmates. At least that's what he said. The sound of your whiny voice and how incredibly wet your pussy was, he just knew. So he slipped a finger into you and you seized up and cried as your body spasmed with pleasure. Only one finger made it feel like you were being stretched right open, you were always so tight and wet, and yet you could take so much. You knew he knew he had earned it... he had that look in those steel blue eyes, that cheeky look, full of mischief and lust that he knew it was okay for him to slip a finger in without asking because he was preparing you for what was to come.

"Fuck... Fuck... oh my god..." You had such a dirty mouth but you couldn't help the pathetic and inappropriate words or sounds you were making right now. Your consciousness and being were elsewhere as Cillian pushed you over the edge once more into an impending and mind-shattering orgasm. He slipped in a second finger and you mewled as you felt your cunt uncontrollably spasm as it squirted out onto Cillian's face and soaking his face oncemore. It was as if he had dived right into that 2 meters of water, soaking his entire face and chest, some of it even getting in his hair.

"Give it to me, baby girl... that's it..." He mumbled into your quivering pussy, your clit growing numb. One of his hands moved from its other position on keeping your hips in place to your nipples. He knew you so well and he knew all the buttons to push to make it that much better. It was overwhelming.

"O-Okay... Okay... that's enough... please... Cillian... please..." You cry tapping the top of his head impatiently and hesitantly he slipped his fingers from your sticky cunt and sat back up, pulling your legs over his so his crotch was perfectly aligned with your overstimulated pelvis. "Cillian... baby... I just need a moment..."

"Yeah? That's alright, my love," He whispered and he leaned in and kissed you, smearing your lips and face with your own cum. But at this point you were too drunk on your own pleasure to care, his lips to pretty... too irresistable to deny a kiss. That's one thing you hadn't denied him of... your lips. To kiss of course... nothing else. You made out like horny teenagers but you never did anything... barely touching him over his clothes. Just to get him really hot and bothered.

"I love you..." You whispered into his mouth that's dripping with drool and squirt.

"I love you more," He huffed and laid on you, lying his head on one of your tits and sighing happily. He looked over at all the fruit lying on the table that looked almost as delicious as you. "God that looks like good fruit..."

"Yeah..." You ran your fingers along his freckled back, muscles sculpted perfectly over his pointy shoulder blades. "Got them at the store yesterday... erm... they were on sale for like... two dollars and ninety cents or something..." You shrugged heavily as you began running your fingers through his hair.

"Wow... is that all? That's amazing..." He chirped and he raised his head up to look at your pretty face. "Well... did I prove myself to you, my darling girl?" "Y-Yeah... fuck... you really wanna do it right now?" You mumbled as you looked up into his eyes with a gaze full of love. You were still so sensitive from what had just happened, you hadn't cum like that for A WHOLE WEEK. You felt like you just took a dose of ecstasy. "Can we just cuddle for a bit?"

"Hmm...." He sighed, sitting up on the chair now and gazing down at how sticky your pussy looked and then at the strawberries that looked just as ripe and appetizing. He nodded. "Alright... baby... I'll give ya a little break..." He reached over and grabbed a strawberry from the bunch. It was red like the bruise he left on your neck. And as he bit into the juicy strawberry, he thought of you.

"Is it good?" You asked as you sat up a bit on the chair more and reaching out for one yourself.

"So good," He moaned with a mouthful of strawberry syrup and pulp. "Tastes like you."

"What?" You laughed and blushed as you ate your own strawberry. "You're so stupid..." You snickered as you ate.

"It's just the truth," He shrugged, the tops of his shoulders were flushed from the hot sun but the both of you were enjoying the warmth. "I love you... I am so in love with you... I am the luckiest man alive..."

"God shut up..." You rolled your eyes and smiled bashfully at his praising. But he loved it when you played it coy with him, he thought you were so cute. And he thought you could never look more beautiful, sunkissed and warm in the sun with him. Your hair is a mess and your tits are out and still wet from his spit. The straps of your bikini still help to accentuate your features and make you look like a treat he needs to unwrap.

"God I can't wait to put my cock in you..." He whispered as he pressed the tip of a strawberry to your sternum. The cold perked you up a bit as you watched him drag the strawberry down your stomach and onto your recovering pussy. He pressed the ruby red fruit onto your sticky clit and ran it down even further.

"Cillian... what are you doing... don't-" But you were interrupted by the feeling of an intrusion. He pressed the tip of the rather large and bulbous strawberry into your cunt, soaking it in your ambrosia-like cum. "Oh... Oh my god..." He pressed it in slightly deeper until he was only clutching at the stem and then he pulled it out intact and popped the tip of it into his mouth.

"Mmmm...." He bit into it and pulled it away, the strawberry juice dripping from his lips as he spoke. "Perfect.... so... fucking.... divine..."

You laid back and huffed out. "I can't believe you just did that... oh my god..."

"Did it feel like a cock?" Cillian asked bluntly and with a stupid-cocky grin on his face. "Tell me, Y/N... when you let me put a strawberry in that little cunt of yers... did it feel as good as when I have my dick in ya?" He leaned in and whispered right into your ear as he pressed the open strawberry to your clit and you let out a gasp.

"N-No..." You shook your head and closed your eyes shut. "It didn't... you shouldn't have done that..."

"Tell me how badly you want me inside you..." Cillian was using that voice he knew got to you. That deep and raspy bedroom voice... if he spoke like that to you always... you would commit heinous crimes for him if he told you so. "C'mon... like you said earlier... beg for it... like yer life depends on it..."

You were flustered at the switch in control. You found yourself suddenly helpless to the pleasure that was accumulating within you, a strawberry rubbing your sticky clit in the most perfect rhythm. Cillian was a dirty-minded man when it came to you... and he smirked as he watched you give in to it... you let him get you off with a literal strawberry.

The strawberry juice leaked down your already sopping pussy, making it the perfect treat for Cillian to lean down and make out with your sex and suck up the juice left behind from the fruit. He still feverishly rubbed the half-bitten fruit against your throbbing clit while he licked circles around your hole... where you really needed him.

"Pl-Please... Cillian..." You moaned pathetically, you hated when he made you beg. You let out a bratty huff and rolled your eyes. "Please... I need you..."

"Need me to what?" He smirked as he bit into the strawberry now, one finger inside of you, fingering your g-spot. He was finished with the fruit, mind now fully focused on you as he made you cum all over his fingers, readying you for the stretch of his cock.

"Cillian..." You whined.

"Be a good girl now..."

"Fuck... please... I need you to fuck me... need you to cum in me..." You added that last part with a smirk. You didn't let Cillian cum inside of you always, just to mix it up a little because you knew there was no other feeling out there for him that was like cumming inside of you, it was euphoric for him. You liked playing hard to get. "Please... daddy... put your babies in me?" You reached your hand up and tugged on the chain you had got him for his birthday. And you looked up at him with doe-like eyes that you knew would get him to give in to you and your pleading.

He kissed you instantly and undid his shorts to pull his suffering cock out. It was sensitive and painfully hard and he couldn't wait to bust a load into you. Especially if you were calling him daddy.

"Such a good girl..." He praised as he lined the thick head of his cock up with your pussy. He smeared you with the leaking precum and as he pressed into you, he sighed with pleasure. "I missed being inside you... so much..." Cillian whispered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Please... oh my god..." You arched your back as he stretched you open with his veiny cock. "Daddy...." You cried. "Please... kiss me..."

"Aw... how sweet..." He cooed condescendingly to you as he leaned in and connected your lips but as you opened your mouth he spat right onto your tongue and grabbed ahold of your jaw. "Swallow..." He growled and you did just that and swallowed his spit obediently. "That's right... baby... you belong to me..."

His hips moved and you were deemed speechless as he began fucking you. Your fence only went so high, if someone next door went on their top balcony or even opened their curtains they would see Cillian fucking you like you were in some sort of porno film. You were seeing stars as he rocked his hips in and out of you. It was graceful in the way he moved, like a ballet dancer, every move perfectly choreographed and precise. The tip of his cock was abusing your g-spot repeatedly, to the point you were barely coherent enough to speak. Body limp and mind blank as you were used for all you were good for.

His hands gripped at your hips tightly, rocking you back and forth as he moaned like the slut he was. Cillian was loving every second of this as he thrusted his hips back and forth perfectly spearing you on his cock. You clutched the chair with your left hand and the other left scratch makrs down his poor sunburnt back. But the pain was worth it, the feeling of your warm sticky walls wrapped around him... well... it felt like home. And his eyes rolled into the back of his head as you squeezed around him, he fucked you like an animal, gripping one of your tits in his palm, squeezing it and groaning once more as you clenched around him.

"Daddy.... I'm gonna..." You whined in a high pitch voice, eyebrows knitted together and your tongue hanging heavy on your jaw. "I'm gonna cum... oh my god..." "Cum for me baby, make a mess all over me... please...." He groaned with a sigh as he leaned down and attached his mouth to your other tit, the one he hadn't before. He flexed his hips every time he pressed his cock into you, pressing it deeper in you as he leaked out cum. "I'm gonna cum too..." He huffed, face flushed and sweaty, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Please cum inside me..." You moaned as you threw your head back, your orgasm engulfing you. He did just that, biting your neck as he fucked you full of his seed, balls sticky with a mixture of your arousal and his. "Ooh... feels so good..." "Yeah, baby..." He whimpered and pressed his hot lips to the side of your face, leaving sloppy traces of spit along your cheeks until your lips tangled with his. He made out with you as you rode out your high, your entire body was overflowing with love and the white-hot blinding pleasure. You still felt so full and stretched out on him but then he slowly eased his movements and pulled out, biting his lip. "God..." Cillian gasped, sitting up and looking down at your pussy that now seeped out his cum. "So pretty..."

"Please... hold me..." You pouted, reaching out your heavy arms to have him lie on top of you again. "Need to feel you... daddy..."

Cillian obliged happily, scooping you up in his arms and shifting so you were lying in his lap with your head on his shoulder. He held you and kissed your head. "I love you so much, you know that right?" He whispered into your scalp that he smelled with a smile on his lips.

"I love you more..." You grinned bashfully, running your nose along his collarbone and neck. You just loved the way he smelled. It wasn't his cologne or anything... it was just the way he smelled. You were addicted to it. "That was so good... can't believe we went a whole week without it..."

Cillian snickered and nodded. "Yeah... if you give me a couple of minutes ill be able to go at it again..." He smirked, cheeks rosy as he looked at you fondly.

"God shut up... you sillyhead..." You ruffled his wet hair and kissed the tip of his nose as you two laid there. Eventually you would go inside and he'd sneak himself into your shower where you'd fuck him against the wall while still covered in your strawberry-syrup body wash.

-----

It's summer here and I am dying from the heat and the idea of physically touching anyone right now is so ugh... EW... but Cillian is the only exception of course.

Hope you enjoyed this little fic... I know it's short but I wanted to give you guys something... the third part to Red Eyes and A Pair of New Glasses will be out soon I promise :)...

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine

690 notes · View notes

hwaslayer · 21 days

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wildfire (cs) | one.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 4.2k

—warnings: cussing/mature language, this is gonna start off kinda slow but i promise it'll get spicier lol, say hello to the rest of the professors in this fic ouweeee 🤪, some general bioengineering research terms, very vague mentions of mice research work, more of a glimpse into the yunho x san x iseul dynamic

—a/n: i'm also working on wooyoung's mini series so pls check it out! the next update will prob go up soon! ily <33

"Did you figure out your rotation for this quarter?" You walk alongside Jiung as you head to the Harvey Center, where Professor Choi's lab is located. Both you and Jiung had just finished up walking around campus to get your steps in, but to also check out the classrooms for all your upcoming classes this quarter and pick up books at the bookstore. Most of your classes were in familiar buildings, while two were entirely new.

"Yeah, I gotta meet with one more professor then I think I can send off my final decision." You nod. Jiung is holding his bag of books and yours, not wanting you to haul them around campus with how heavy they can get.

"That's good."

"Yeah, hope so." He repeats. "Are you meeting with the other professors this week just to see if you wanna rotate in any of them instead?"

"Mhm. All in one week. I guess it makes it easier on me since I don't have to wait on anyone. I can decide by end of the week."

"Are you seeing them in person?"

"Just Professor Choi and Professor Kim. Everyone else said Zoom." Jiung nods.

"Wow, Professor Kim in person?"

"I heard he really values in person meetings." You chuckle. "Which is nice? Maybe it's cause he's the department chair."

"That, too. He just seems like that kinda person, though. He's super active in all the events."

"Truth."

"Did you like rotating in Professor Bahng's lab last quarter?"

"I did. He was really cool. People in his lab are cool, too. I just.. I don't know? I didn't have a specific project I could focus on. Felt like I'd have trouble fitting myself in there and finding something to work off of. Everyone was great though, don't get me wrong. Just didn't click for me."

"Makes sense. You wanna be happy and feel like you can thrive somewhere."

"Yeah, exactly. Plus, after talking to Sunwoo and Belle, I think my interests lie more in Professor Choi's lab." You look down at the bags before looking at the Harvey Center ahead of you. "You know you don't have to wait for me, Jiung. You can go to the apartment if you want."

"Nah, I'll wait. I don't have shit to do anyway." You swing the front doors open and Jiung instantly plops down on a free chair near the lobby doors. "I'll be here."

"Shit, I just realized I think his office is downstairs in the basement. I don't know if I have access."

"Where's Sunwoo or Belle?" You quickly pull out your phone and try to dial Sunwoo or Belle to help you. Unlucky for you though, none of them answer.

"I guess they aren't here for the day yet. They didn't pick up." You sigh. "Why didn't I think about this early on?!"

"Relax. It's fine! Poke your head around, I'm sure someone is there to let you in." You pucker your lips in dismay, hoping it doesn't cause any issues and make you late for your meeting. You should've asked for assistance in the first place, but it kinda blew over your head when Professor Choi responded quicker than you expected.

"Welp. Let's hope I don't fuck this up already." Jiung pats your head.

"You won't." You wave to him before heading into the elevators, down to the basement level of the building. It's quiet, and you don't see many people walking around despite it being close to 10am. As you approach the door to the basement, you peek into the window to try and catch a glimpse of anyone passing by in the visible hallway. To your luck, the hallway is dead and there doesn't seem to be any moving heads in any of the nearby lab rooms. You let out a sigh and take out your phone, wondering if you should just email Professor Choi to ask for assistance.

No, maybe someone will pass by in the next 5 minutes.

Give it 5 more minutes, then panic and email.

You tippytoe and peek through the window once more, muttering small curses to yourself for being so unprepared with your meeting. Now, he's probably going to think you can't—

"Y/N?" You turn to see Professor Choi behind you with a soft smile on his face. He's dressed in a grey turtleneck, black slacks and boots— large silver square-shaped frames sitting on the bridge of his nose. He has his hands in his pockets, a heavy leather bag slung on his shoulder. You're surprised he even knows it's you; then again, who else would be peeking into the basement at this time?

"Oh my god, hi—sorry." You pause, slightly embarrassed having Professor Choi catch you looking through the door's window the way you were. "I just realized I didn't have basement access so I was trying to see if anyone was around before bothering you."

"All good. Perfect timing, hm?" He taps his badge against the reader and swings the door open. "After you." You give him a curt bow as a thank you, slowly walking into the basement hallway. San trails behind you, and he takes note of the way you're dressed. You're in some wide-leg white jeans, a cream colored vest and some black platform loafers. It's cute, really. He gives you another toothless smile when you stop in your tracks and wait for him to lead the way. Hopefully, he didn't catch your eyes when you quickly skimmed his outfit again— he was tall and he was well-built, it was very obvious with that turtleneck he had on. He smells of a woody cologne, mixed with notes of jasmine and patchouli. It's not overbearing, but it definitely makes its presence known next to you. "How's your day been?" He asks and you just nod.

"It's been alright. I just went to pick up my books at the book store, explored around campus to make sure I knew where my classes were at. There's a few buildings I haven't had class in."

"That's good. Getting prepared for the quarter well I see."

"Trying to, at least." He chuckles as he does an abrupt turn to the right and swings a door open. You follow him into another office space, where desks are lined up amongst each other. You find a few people sitting around, typing away on their desktops. It's too bad Sunwoo or Belle wasn't around. You'd probably feel a bit less nervous seeing their faces before the meeting.

"What's up, Professor Choi!" One of his lab members calls out. San does a quick nod and throws up a wave just as he unlocks his office door and steps inside.

"Come in." He holds the door open for you once again. "Sorry it's a bit messy. I'm all over the place with these progress reports and finalizing class details."

"No worries! Honestly doesn't look messy to me." You look around seeing a stack of papers on his desk. Otherwise, everything is neat. He's got all his awards framed up and lined along the back wall. Books on shelves near his desk. A couch off to the side wall with two small pillows. A small coffee table. A mini fridge. Two chairs for guests at his desk. It's roomy, but not super roomy.

It smells like his cologne.

"Have a seat." He pulls out one of the two chairs directly in front of his desk. You sit and place your bag down on the ground, fixing yourself as Professor Choi sets his bag down and sits at his computer chair. "Gotta apologize again, it's my first meeting of the day so I don't have everything out and ready."

"No need to apologize, I get it." You chuckle and he smiles.

"Your CV was really impressive." He says as he's pulling up said CV. He's looked at it enough times to have a photographic memory of it, which is the first for him. Right away, he can tell you'd work well in his lab. You have a good head on your shoulders, smart. Can contribute a lot. He just knows sometimes.

"Thank you." You smile and it makes San's smile grow bigger.

"So, why do you wanna explore those areas? Tell me a little bit more about your experience with everything. Computational analysis, mice, 2P and opto-stim-neural circuit work. All that good stuff." He sits back a bit, his full attention now on you instead of your CV on the screen. You feel your hands get a 'lil clammy the more his eyes focus on you, your lips feeling a 'lil more dry than usual. Shit, he is attractive.

"Sure!" You quickly shake off the nerves and begin to tell him about your experience and interest in bioengineering. It all started when the field was briefly introduced to you in high school, and your curiosity grew to enormous levels when you found a few schools that had the specific undergrad program available. You've talked to a few seniors about their experiences, like Sunwoo, before solidifying your decision to move forward with the major. You tell him how you took a break after graduation to get some more hands-on experiences through two internships and a full-time job, working on in-vitro mice work, computational analysis and building and maintaining 2P microscopes. Then, you realized you really wanted to get back on track and pursue your graduate studies. You tell him about your rotation in Professor Bahng's lab last quarter and how you enjoyed it, but you were having trouble figuring out how you'd fit in the lab. When you talked to Sunwoo a little more about what he's been up to in Professor Choi's lab, your interest in opto-stim peeked, having been Professor Choi's niche.

It's a nice, easy conversation. You find that Professor Choi isn't as intimidating as you thought. He chimes in with questions every now and then, making it a smooth two-way convo.

"Ah, Professor Bahng? That's my guy right there. Learned lots from him." You chuckle.

"He's brilliant."

"He is, he really, really is." He nods. "But I totally get it, it's good to experience things in order for you to understand what you really want or how to spend your time wisely."

"Exactly." You tilt your head and look at him. "That's pretty much it for me, though. Your work is great. I'm really interested in learning more and diving deep into opto-stim. I know the basics, but haven't gotten a chance to work with it. Sunwoo's project seems to encompass a lot of that, along with the other aspects I've worked with."

"That's right. His project has been on a roll, same thing with Belle's. I can see you working between the both of them, most of your time with Sunwoo, though. I think you'll fit the best with his, and I can see a lot of potential avenues coming out of it. He's been asking for some help, too." He chuckles. "Why don't you talk to Sunwoo and Belle a little more? Then all four of us can meet in the next couple of days to finalize project ideas and details. Should be good to start the rotation afterwards if it all goes smoothly." Your eyes light up.

"Really? I-I mean, yes. I'll do that."

"Mhm. Let me know when you're ready? Just send me an another email."

"Thank you, Professor Choi." He smiles at you.

"You're very welcome. Do you have any other questions?" You look at him, head tilting out of curiosity.

"Um, not for the project. It's something more personal, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Go for it." He leans back again and rests his clasped hands on his lap.

"Why did you pursue this field?" San is having to pause because out of all the times he's met with students, people [besides formal interviews], no one has asked him that question. No one has asked him directly— people like to assume they know him because his name is out there, but not once has anyone asked about his experience.

"Hm." He hums. "It's probably gonna sound a little cliché and everything, so don't judge me." You giggle and shake your head. "It just felt like my calling? Kinda like you." When he smiles, you find yourself captivated by his dimples. They make everything about his smile so captivating and so, so charming. "I think you might know this already, but my dad was a biology professor. He always told me to challenge myself and think outside the box, and I think the early exposure to his career definitely shaped my path. He'd share his knowledge with me and try to ask me tricky questions. Make me think about what's around me, how things can be improved. Better understood. Then, I learned about bioengineering and tried to better understand it. Open new avenues for things that haven't been studied well yet. Just took lots of risks and tried things out. Failed lots of times before getting the hang of things."

"That's amazing. Your parents must be really proud."

"I hope so." He laughs. "Thanks for asking."

"Oh, no. Thank you. I wasn't sure if I overstepped with that question."

"What? No way. You're actually the first to ask and I appreciate that."

"Oh?" Is all you manage to get out, confused as to why he would say that. Has no tried to ask about him or get to know him a little better? Maybe it was just you, but you definitely thought building good, personal connections would bring more advantages than not— first and foremost, bringing comfort and ease, especially to any new environment. Who would wanna work in an awkward, tense setting?

"I mean it." San laughs. "I appreciate it. It's nice when people take a second to view me as a human and not a robot who is constantly churning work."

"Course." The both of you maintain eye contact for a bit and it makes you feel so, so nervous that he's just looking at you. And he kinda is just looking at you. Observing you. He finds himself admiring your look once more; the hair, your smile, your nails. Cute. He knows he shouldn't, but truthfully, he can't really help himself when a beautiful woman is in front of him in general. He is a man, and a man who enjoys eye candy. "Anyway, I know you're probably booked and busy today, so let me get going."

"You're okay. I don't have anything until the next 30 mins, don't feel the need to rush."

"No, it's okay. I should totally let you be." You stand and smile at him as you sling the strap on your shoulder and tuck your bag close. "Thank you again, Professor Choi. I'm excited for what's to come."

"Me too. It'll be great, I know it." He stands, hands in his pockets as he follows you towards the door.

"Thanks." You turn to look at him, and he's not too far from you. "See you soon.. over Zoom?" You assume that since the basics and introductions are out of the way, it'll probably be more convenient for Professor Choi to do a Zoom meeting. Lo and behold, he surprises you with a:

"In person would be nice." He smirks a bit. He does enjoy his in person meetings; they're more productive that way.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna waste your time."

"Never." He shrugs a bit. "I mean it. It's always better to talk in person, anyway."

"I agree." You smile at him once more, hand on his door handle. "See you soon."

"Have a good one, Y/N. Feel free to email me if anything comes up."

"Appreciate it." You give him one last look before you swing the door open and find Sunwoo just about to settle down at his desk.

"Y/N! Professor Choi! Assuming it went well and I'll get the help I've been begging for?" San laughs.

"Yeah. I asked Y/N to talk to you and Belle about potential projects and to email me once she's ready so we can all meet and finalize details."

"Good with me."

"Good with me, too." San gives you both a small, toothless smile before walking back into his office. "So, how'd it really go?"

"Good." You approach Sunwoo's desk. "He's not as intimidating as I thought. Kinda. Really laid back, though."

"Yeah, he's super chill and easy going. Super supportive. You'll enjoy it here." He waves his phone. "Sorry I missed your call earlier."

"I forgot I didn't have access into the basement."

"How'd you get in?"

"Professor Choi saw me peeking through the basement door window." Sunwoo snorts.

"Amazing first impression." You playfully pinch his bicep.

"Hate you." You pout. "I'm nervous."

"For what, dude?" He laughs. "I promise you, it's not that bad at all. As long as you put in the work and do what you need to do, everything will play out fine."

"What if I don't get into the lab post-rotation?"

"Don't say that." Sunwoo smiles. "You'll be good. Promise. You're smart and hardworking."

"We'll see. Maybe you'll realize how much of a pain in the ass I am when we work together."

"True." You glare at him and he laughs. "Kidding. Ready for classes to start soon?"

"No."

"That's the spirit." You chuckle. "Anyway, let me know when you're free this week. We can walk around the lab while we talk about projects. Belle is usually here around the same time I am so I'm sure we can grab her whenever." You nod. At this point, Chris and Yeosang walk into the room, the two in good spirits and engaging in lively conversation right before knocking on San's door.

"Okay. I'll text you later, then. I gotta get back to Jiung, I left him upstairs."

"I saw." He chuckles and salutes just as he diverts his attention to the data on his desktop computer.

"Hi Professor Bahng, Professor Kang." You smile at them in passing and they nod in response.

"Hey Y/N! Nice to see you around these parts." Professor Bahng says with that usual happy tone of his. Professor Kang is a little more shy, but never fails to acknowledge you with a smile or soft 'hello.' Chris presses his ear to the door before laughing and swinging the door open, greeting San as casually as they can before the door shuts.

"Whattup!" Chris plops onto San's couch while Yeosang takes the other end.

"Nothing much. Just finished my meeting with the rotation student. You know her, actually."

"Oh, Y/N? Yeah! She's crazy smart. Think she'll do some good work in your lab." San nods.

"So, what's the plan you wanted to talk about?"

"I need to start planning the symposium for one of the grants. It needs to happen within the next month. Was hoping you can help us, give us a few tips? Maybe do a talk?"

"Where are you planning to do it?"

"Right next door at the Acacia Center, was hoping one of the huge conference rooms would be open."

"Probably the best place to do it because they can cater for the event, too."

"Who else can we recruit to do a talk, though?" Yeosang sits back and lets out a sigh. "Jongho?"

"Try seeing if Namjoon is free, that'll definitely draw some people." They all laugh in unison knowing Namjoon's power. "And make sure you do the whole email blast with flyers everywhere. Let people pass it along."

"Yeah, okay. But, also, don't hate me." Christopher looks at San with an awkward smile. San knows though, he knows very well what he's hinting at.

"We've already talked about this. I don't care."

"I know, but still. You're one of my good friends and I'd hate to put you in an uncomfortable position."

"Well, Yunho is always gonna be there and I don't expect things to change. We're always gonna have to work together despite what happened."

"I don't know how you do it, I'm sorry." Yeosang says, slightly shaking his head as he sinks into the couch a little more.

"I agree. You're strong, man."

"I have no choice." San laughs. "Besides, I stopped letting that consume me a long time ago. It's none of my concern anymore. As long as I can get my shit done without issues and minimal contact, I couldn't care less."

"That's real, honestly." Chris lets out a breath. "Well, I'm gonna ask him to do a talk."

"Go for it. Will probably be good for the grant, too." San sighs. He meant it when he said he stopped letting the entire thing consume him a long time ago. And he does have to interact with Yunho whether he likes it or not; it's not like he's gonna give everything up just because he can't stand some petty drama from the past. Besides, he promised Namjoon he was okay. He promised he wouldn't cause issues even though Namjoon didn't expect any. But, it did hurt. He's not gonna lie— there are days when he still questions everything and he wonders why things unfolded the way it did.

He just knows better now, and can actually brush it off without it affecting his mood, his surroundings.

"I gotta keep going through my list of people."

"I can ask around, too." San says. "Do you want me to see if the big conference room is free?"

"Yeah, please?" Chris laughs. "They give you everything."

"No, they don't." San rolls his eyes with a chuckle.

"Damn near." Yeosang adds.

"Any of your lab members wanna do a poster presentation?"

"Uh." San shuts his eyes in thought for a second. "Let me ask, I think Yoon might have some good data to present."

"Okay, let me know." San nods. "You guys free for lunch later?"

"12:30, maybe?" Yeosang stands and looks at his watch. "I gotta get to my next round of meetings 'till then."

"Same. Text me where to meet?" Chris stands and nods before throwing up the peace sign.

"Will do. Thanks for the tips and for looking into the room."

"I'll let you know what they say." Both Christopher and Yeosang nod just as they walk out of his office and leave him to his peace. He makes a note to send an email after his next meeting about the room and catering, knowing how hard it can be to reserve a room within a month's time frame at this campus. He'll do what he can to help Chris, though— that's one of his good friends and somebody who didn't turn their back on him after everything that's happened. Even Yeosang, Mingi, Jongho. Namjoon. Of course, everyone works great together. Everyone is civil when they need to be. But San knows if he ever needed them, they'd be there for him in a heartbeat.

They'd be the people he could turn to without question.

When it comes time for lunch, San is barely getting out of his meeting at 12:30pm. He finds Chris, Yeosang and Mingi at the café right across the way from the Harvey Center, falling in line with them just as it grows during the lunch hour rush. They grab their food and plop down at a shaded table off to the side, greeting a few familiar faces and passing students.

"What's up?" Yunho passes, nodding at the table and giving Chris' shoulder a quick massage. Iseul follows behind, not paying the group any mind. Yeosang, Mingi and Chris share their own 'hello's,' while Yunho and San continue to play the silent treatment with each other. Yes, San will work with Yunho if he needs to. He'll be civil, he'll act like nothing ever happened. He'll act like their relationship wasn't severed after everything that went down. But, if he's out here minding his business, eating lunch with friends— he'd rather not bump into Yunho and Iseul and make any small talk. Simply just cause. He's done a lot of work to get past that and he doesn't want anything to do it with anymore.

"Anyway." Mingi says, making Chris snort.

"Anyway. Ya'll trying to hit the gym sometime tomorrow?"

"I'm down." San says, scrolling through his phone. He'll scratch some time out of his evening to hit the gym since it's been a few days since his last gym session. At least, he plans to finalize his class schedule before end of the day today— he'll have a little more breathing room once he submits that to the department.

"No way, you're not serious!" Your voice echoes as you exit the café, laughing along with Jiung and Felix over Felix's random encounter that he was giving you details about. San diverts his attention to your group, recognizing the outfit, the voice. He sips on his drink and continues to watch the smile on your face build, the animated hand gestures you use, the way you so attentively listen to every word your friends are telling you. Oddly enough, he finds that seeing you is a good distraction. He feels a little more relaxed post-5 second Yunho and Iseul encounter, a small subtle smile creeping up on his lips when he sees you throw your head back in laughter. It's soothing.

That's probably the moment he realizes you are enticing.

And to be honest, he's not understanding why he feels a certain pull to you; it's so uncommon and so, so foreign, to him. He doesn't even think he felt this way when he first started dating Iseul. Don't get him wrong— he did love her, he did feel the usual giddiness, the honeymoon phase, all of the above. Everything progressed as naturally as it could with that time.

But with you, he's finding a certain itch. He's not sure how to relieve himself, especially when he knows he shouldn't. He can't.

It'll be trouble having you around, he's very aware of that. It'll be a test for him, the boundaries he creates to make sure you both don't cross that line.

He can't.

Still doesn't mean he won't.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom

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bleedingoptimism · 1 year

Text

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

part 1

“You look pale,” Jeff comments making Eddie snort loudly.

Of course he looks pale, he’s got vampirism, doesn't he? But then again, so does Jeff and he looks great.

“When was the last time you fed?” He asks.

Eddie sighs heavily trying to reign in his bad mood. He knows Jeff’s just worried and wants to help, and he’s grateful to have run into an old friend from high school as soon as he moved into the big city.

Because he’d be utterly lost without him.

He doesn't know where anything is, he gets lost in the subway, and he has no idea when he’s being charged too much for a muffin or suspiciously too little for a hotdog, or where all the blood markets are.

“Like, two weeks ago,” Eddie finally answers.

Jeff looks surprised but it’s not actually that bad, people with vampirism can go up to 4 to 5 weeks without blood.

It’s not the same as those vampires from movies and books, they still eat food and they can stand in the sun with just minor cases of sunburn. There’s also the light sensitivity, making them all look like assholes wearing sunglasses everywhere.

Also, they are not allergic to garlic. Which, thank the heavens because Eddie loves garlic, a lot.

There’re a couple of side effects that do come in handy sometimes, like augmented hearing and smell. And the healing spit is super weird but nifty. No super strength regrettably, that would’ve been awesome.

Anyways, it’s like they have super anemia or something.

“I went to a blood bar, hooked up with some dude but. I didn't have a good time, at all. I kind of don't want to go back to bars for a while,” He elaborates and when Jeff frowns worried, he shakes his head,

“No, not like that. It’s just… the dude was like way too into it, you know? It kinda freaked me out.”

“What do you mean? Don't you find it hot? When you feed?” Jeff asks him, curious.

Eddie nods quickly, “Yes, of course I do! It can be really sexy with the right person, but this guy, he was like- like way too loud and like, he was faking it? I don’t for who, though. And halfway through it, I started getting worried I’d accidentally hired someone instead of just hooked up and I didn’t have any money, and then I started thinking about money and my dick-”

“Ok! Ok, I get it.” Jeff thankfully interrupts him. “Dude, why didn’t you say something, I know of a place. I didn’t mention it before because it’s kind of boujee and handles itself a little differently.”

“Oh? Do tell” Eddie tells him excitedly, he loves going to new places, especially if they are weird.

“Well, it’s real private, like ‘can’t get in unless you are on the list’ private. And it’s run by this girl. Blonde little thing, super cute. Scary as fuck. Everyone calls her ‘The Boss’” he says doing air quotes.

“Dramatic, I like it.” Eddie smiles.

Jeff chuckles, “So the gist of it it’s you go there and just hang out normally, like any other kind of bar. The place is beautiful, the music is good, and the drinks are delicious. But what's interesting about this place is the hostesses,” he says and even does a little pause for effect before continuing, “Similar to a blood bar there’re people there willing to be fed on but what’s cool about it is they get to choose.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “That sounds kind of fun, actually.”

“Right? And it feels, safer somehow? For them?” Jeff agrees and Eddie nods and smiles at him, waiting for him to keep going.

“Anyway, the hostesses choose and then you get to go upstairs and talk through what you want to happen, just feeding, sex, talking, anything they agree to, it's on the table. I once ended up just playing a game of Uno with the girl I fed on and two other hostesses that hadn't picked anyone that night.” he finishes and Eddie laughs delightedly.

“Ok, this place sounds amazing, what’s the catch?”

“Well, you have to pay an entry fee, the drinks are expensive and there’s always the possibility you’ll leave empty-handed. The first time is free though,” Jeff says.

“Like drugs,” Eddie replies and Jeff nods solemnly,

“You know the hostesses can be kind of addicting.”

…

That night, on the way there, Jeff tells him they have to sign a guest list at the entrance,

“No one uses their real name, not because the place is shady or anything! But because they want to leave that choice to us and the hostesses if you ever get too close with one. It's not like, frowned upon.”

Eddie nods listening intently, he feels kind of nervous in a way he hasn't in a while, but he’s not sure why.

“Also, secret nicknames are fun! I’m known as Jay there. So please don’t dox me. Or yourself.” Jeff tells him.

After careful consideration, Eddie smiles and says, “I’ll be… Strider”

“Nerd”

“Shut up, you are just jealous you didn't come up with it yourself”

Jeff laughs, “You got me there,” he says, and then, “We are here” and he opens a big glass windowed door and vows to Eddie, inviting him in.

Eddie chuckles and enters and immediately almost runs into someone—a tall, massive guy with short curly hair and the shadow of a beard.

“Hey freak,” Jeff greets calmly, “He’s with me,”

Eddie cringes at the nickname, bad memories from high school bullying. But the dude just nods and gives Jeff the tiniest of smiles, so he figures it’s the nickname the bouncer chose for himself.

They enter and sign their name in the guest book, a girl about their age with dirty blond hair and hundreds of freckles on her nose and cheeks is there and she asks Eddie a couple of questions. Not in a weird way, but in a ‘you are new and I’m curious’ kind of way.

Eddie feels comfortable and excited as they go in.

Jeff was right, the place is beautiful. The lobby leads to a big room with high ceilings and fake candle-lit lamps. The chairs and tables are antiques and all different but roughly the same time period so they look good together. There’re old signs and posters from all kinds of drinks and different products adorning the walls. And the music is instrumental and oldie too, sounds like probably 40s or 50s.

It is incredibly boujee. But in a fun way, cozy and warm.

They get a seat at a small round table in a corner and Jeff lets Eddie look around for a while before asking,

“So? Weird right? It’s like stepping into another time,”

Eddie snorts, “Yeah, one that has no idea which time period it wants to repre- who is that?”

Jeff looks at where Eddie is looking and sighs, “Of course you noticed Sunshine,”

“Sunshine?” Eddie sighs.

“That’s what they call him. Because apparently he smells like flowers and summer and tastes like orgasms or something,” Jeff says amused rolling his eyes.

The guy, Sunshine, is probably the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life, definitely the most beautiful man in this room. His face is a contradiction of sharp and round angles that is just absolutely perfect, and he’s wearing a black suit that clings to his body like a second skin, showing off his big shoulders and his tiny waist. He’s looking around the room with big, brown eyes that look bored as he leans against a wall like he’s above it all, he’s a fucking dream.

Eddie swallows audibly and looks smirking at Jeff for a second before his eyes drift back to the man, “Tastes like what, you said” he teases and Jeff snorts.

“Not that anyone would know, as far as I know, he’s never taken anyone upstairs,” he tells Eddie in a conspiratory tone.

That makes him incredibly curious, “Really? Why is he still here then?”

“I don’t know for sure, mostly rumors but he’s the boss’s favorite, that’s for sure. Oh!” Jeff exclaims and then nods his head to a girl sitting on the other side of the room, in a big fancy-looking chair that looks more like a throne than a simple piece of furniture.

She’s got blonde hair up in a ponytail and she’s wearing a flowery dress but there's something about the way she looks around the room, something about the way people walk around her and look at her, with respect or fear, or maybe both. She’s fucking intimidating.

While Eddie’s looking, the girl from the front desk, with the freckles, comes to sit on a small stool beside the “throne”, there’s another one on the other side that’s empty. The blonde girl moves her hand towards freckles and she kisses it and then her shoulder and smiles as she leans in closer and starts whispering to her.

It’s kind of surreal.

“That’s The Boss, and the girl from the entrance, that’s Sparrow. She’s her girl.” Jeff explains.

“Respect for looking scary in a sundress,” Eddie comments.

And Jeff nods, “Anyways my theory is, Sunshine is actually just a bodyguard and not a hostess but the people that come here like to think they actually have a chance with him, so no one says anything to the contrary.”

Eddie snorts and nods, it makes sense. It's actually very good marketing, just like the ‘the first one is free’ thing. That boss girl is really smart with her business.

Jeff and he get a few drinks and they chat calmly, Jeff isn't looking to go upstairs tonight, he only came by to accompany Eddie and Eddie knows he should be looking around, trying to make eye contact with someone, but he can stop staring at Sunshine.

He even looked at their table at one point, and Eddie thought he was going to faint. He was scanning the room as he apparently does every couple of minutes when he caught Jeff’s eye and Jeff lifted his hand in greeting.

And Sunshine’s face completely transformed, his bored calculating expression changed into a beautiful smile that made his eyes shine. He wiggled his fingers at Jeff cutely before going back to looking like fucking Droopy Dog. If Droopy was the sexiest motherfucker alive. It was amazing to see.

Eddie’s jaw almost hit the table and he turned to look at Jeff stunned and he just shrugged,

“Sunshine was one of the hostesses I ended up playing Uno with. He’s fucking vicious,” he says smiling at the memory.

Eddie chuckles as his eyes follow Sunshine moving across the room, he just can't. Stop. Looking.

But the thing is, Sunshine is looking back now. Keeping eye contact with him obviously and unashamed. It’s thrilling and it makes shivers run down his spine.

He watches as Sunshine sits on the stool on the other side of The Boss’s throne and grabs her hand and holds it, intertwining their fingers.

The Boss and her girl turn and look at him and the three of them start whispering, looking at him.

“Dude,” he says and turns to Jeff to see if he’s seeing what he’s seeing.

Jeff looks from him to the whispering party, “Un fucking believable, first time here and tonight is the night Sunshine is taking someone upstairs” he says looking fed up, but clearly in a joking manner.

“Is that what you think it’s happening? No way,” Eddie shakes his head as Sparrow says something that makes The Boss chuckle but Sunshine speaks up and she sobers up immediately. Curious.

“He’s looking right at you, he probably went to ask Sparrow about you,” Jeff insists.

“Maybe he’s looking at you”

“He’s seen me before,” Jeff scoffs.

He’s about to reply but their conversation gets interrupted by someone shily clearing their throat. A girl, a hostess, is looking at him with curious eyes, and shit… she’s cute and looks like a nice person but, Eddie can’t- he needs to know what those looks from Sunshine meant.

He needs him.

He looks back at the group quickly to see Sunshine and The Boss in deep conversation and Sparrow… is she glaring at him?

He rejects the girl, as nicely as possible and Jeff scoffs and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ under his breath again as Eddie turns to look back at Sunshine.

Who is walking toward them, holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Jeff says and then moves to stand. Eddie grabs his wrist and tries to pull him back.

“Wait what are you doing, dont-” But Jeff frees himself and starts walking away,

“Good luck!” He sings songs and then leaves him alone.

part 1: you are here

part 2: 👄

part 3: 🩸

bonus content: ☀️

ao3: 🌙

art: 🦇

coffee?☕🥐💕

#stranger things #steddie #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something

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houseofhyde · 24 days

Text

thinking abt aemond falling in love w blind!reader.

pairing. aemond x fem!reader warnings. no use of y/n, enemies to friends to lovers, ableism, so much fluff, a little bit of smut, angst (who said that). no mention of the reader's physical description. wrote in one sitting, no edit, we die like real men. wordcount. 3.1k (this was meant to be a short silly drabble) hyde's input. couldn't get this out my mind so, naturally, i'm making it your problem too now. enjoy, muah x disclaimer ! i'm not visually impaired but i do have several family members who are, to different degrees, and i've tried to stay true to what i remember them describing it like to me. the reader in this is completely blind, however, and that is something i do not have any experience in. please, if you feel anything about my portrayal is wrong or offensive, kindly let me know and i will happily fix it <3

the first time you meet is a few days after the events on driftmark.

with his new disability, the septa encourages alicent to change his usual lessons alongside his siblings for ones held with a couple of other impaired children of highborn status living in the keep.

aemond, of course, protests.

nearly kicking and screaming.

yells at his mother that he doesn't want to be thrown in a box with all the other "broken toys".

he ends up going anyway, dragged there by a handful of guards.

sulks throughout the whole first week, sitting alone in a corner.

and he would've continued to do that forever, if you didn't invade his space.

aka sit down next to him and offer him a book.

"go away," he says, the pout on his lips pointing lower to the ground.

"i don't want to," you refute.

"i won't tell you again, go. away."

"who are you to tell me anything?"

it leaves him speechless, because,

who is he? seriously?!

he thinks you have to be some sort of idiot to not recognise your prince

the following days go the same as the first

you sit near him and hold out a book

he tells you to go away

sometimes you listen

(not without first making it clear that you're moving because you want to, not because he told you to)

other days you don't

you just sit there next to him

staring blankly ahead

not even attempting to open the book that sits in your lap

one day, when he's feeling particularly short on patience

(he had his first sparring lesson with ser criston since losing his eye and it went awfully, each hit and stumble he took to the ground made worse by the echo of aegon's laughter ringing out throughout the whole courtyard)

he asks why you never read that book

"are you an idiot, or something? can't you read? is that why you're here?"

despite how smart he is for his age, he seems to not see the irony in him judging you for being part of an impaired group, as if he isn't also right there with you

such introspection would require acceptance of his loss first, and aemond just isn't ready for that.

"i can't read," you confirm

"because you're slow"

"no."

"then why?"

"i can't see the pages," it's the first time he notices that you're not looking at him. you're trying, face turned and eyes pointed in his direction, but you're staring past his shoulder, "i can't see anything."

he feels guilty,

wretched,

and the sickest twist of comfort.

because he understands

or at least he tells himself he does

because he can't see anything either - out of his missing socket, that is.

the other eye can see perfectly clearly how you don't even flinch as you speak about your disability

and that's when the jealousy takes over.

"then what good is it carrying around that stupid book?"

he says it because he wants to be mean.

so mean that you run away and leave him alone to sulk forever more.

but you just sit there, shrug your shoulders and shift the book around in your palm,

"i like to feel the weight of it in my hand. plus, you never know when you're going to need throw it at someone"

he bites his tongue before he can ask how you can hope to hit a target you can't even see.

the hostility remains

for months, years.

but you sit near him,

he stops telling you to go away,

you still offer the book out to him.

he learns your name.

not because he wants to

but because the septa calls it out one day in the classroom

and you're the one that answers to it.

the first time he sees you outside the study room, you're all alone, none of your father's guards around you,

and that's what really makes him stop in his tracks.

"what kind of lord leaves his daughter to wander blindly around the keep?" he almost says with his usual disgust,

until he notices that you don't have your book

and you're crying.

despite his own discomfort, aemond tells himself he has to comfort you.

because he's thirteen, almost a man.

and what kind of respectable man leaves a girl to cry all by herself?

he wipes your tears with the sleeves of his doublet, waits patiently until your breathing slows, then he speaks,

"what happened?"

"it's you," you say it softly, almost like you can't believe he's the one comforting you.

"it's me. now tell me what happened?"

"nothing," you tell him at first,

until he demands the full truth in the name of his father, king viserys targaryen.

"i overheard my mother speaking to my father about me. i didn't mean to! i just wanted to show them how i memorised the path from my chambers to theirs, without an escort. i wanted to prove that i can be useful, and good, and not a burden. i heard them through the crack in their door. she wants him to send me away to join the silent sisters. she says i can't see, so i may as well not speak either. but my father won't listen. he says i'm his daughter, and that he will not send me away. he loves me too much, i worry he'll hate me for it one day."

that familiar guilty feeling creeps in,

the one he's felt lingering on his skin since the day you told him of your visual impairment.

he's suddenly so aware of the fact he can see you,

and your tear-stained face,

and the shades of blue in your dress.

"where is your book?" he asks.

"i dropped it, whilst running through the halls. i just wanted to stop hearing them, i didn't want... i didn't mean to cause any mess, i'm sorry."

in an act that surprises even him, aemond takes your hand in his

and pulls you both to your feet.

he slowly leads you along familiar hallways, turning corners he's turned a million times.

"where are we going?"

"trust me."

you know he's taken you to the library the minute he opens the doors, a whiff of old books hitting your senses.

he guides you to a book shelf, puts your hand up to touch the exposed spines

and tells you to move forward.

"stop when you feel it's right."

you stop after four steps.

your fingers grazing over a book titled Matters Of The Heart: a Compilation of Fictitious Stories on Love and Beauty.

he pulls it out the shelf,

guides you both over to a bench,

open the dust covered book,

and reads to you.

the following day, when your father's guards guides you down next to aemond in the study room

and you hold your book out to him

he takes it,

shuffles a little closer to you,

and softly recites the words off their pages.

from that day forward, you become an infamous pair in the keep.

the one-eyed prince and the sightless girl,

never one without the other.

aemond becomes your shadow, always two steps ahead or behind you.

you pick out books in the library

and he reads them to you both.

he brings you down to the courtyard

and watches how you flinch each time the clack of wooden swords rings out.

it drives him to be better,

learn to see more in his opponents than even two eyes would allow,

just so he can watch how the smile stretches across your face each time he tells you he won.

you grow so close that one day, the king invites your family to join the royals for supper.

aemond tries not to care that you end up sitting so far away from him at the table.

at least he can look down it and spot you seated at your father's side, he tells himself.

when dinner ends and music starts to play,

aemond ceases the chance to sneak away from his seat and steal the empty one by your side, both your parents having stood to speak with the king.

he brushes two fingers along the back of your hand,

a private, tactile language only you two can speak,

one that tells you it's him, without him even having to say a word.

"prince aemond," you say, and he instantly hates hearing you address him so formally. "you look handsome this evening"

"and how would you know that?" there's no hint of the malice, the mockery he once used to speak to you with, back when he was angry little boy and you were a stubborn girl.

now he's a man of fifteen years and anger is far from something he feels next to you.

he watches you shrug and the smile that he likes best - cheeky, playful - slips onto your lips

"my mother won't stop bringing it up. dashing, she said."

"is that so?"

"mhmm. but she also says my father should offer me to your father and have us both wed, what with our cripple-like qualities making us unsuited for any other lord or lady, so, really, what does she know? for all i know, you're the most hideous thing to walk the keep and i should feel blessed that i can't see you."

"imagine how i feel. i still have to see you."

"oh, the horrors! well then, my all-mighty seeing knight-in-eye-patch, would you lend me your sight one moment and tell me."

"tell you what?"

"do i have anything in my teeth?" you bite back your laughter as you open your mouth and put your pearly-whites out on display for him.

he doesn't even care if the sight is unlady-like

or if anyone else at the table has noticed.

he's too busy laughing along with you and telling lies of how a massive piece of veg is stuck between your upper front teeth.

aegon is as aegon has alaways been,

a thorn in aemond's side,

and he makes no exceptions when it comes to you.

he can't help but laugh at you both

mouth stained with wine as he saunters up and leans his face down between you both.

"isn't it amazing how, between you both, there's only one eye that actually works?"

aemond bites his tongue, like he always does when it comes to his brother.

you, however, aren't quieted so easily.

"oh, so amazing! do you know what's even more amazing? how the stench of you always announces your arrival."

it's the first time aemond feels it.

that flutter in his chest.

and once it starts, it doesn't seem to want to stop,

he seeks you out most hours of the day

and thinks of you when he's not with you.

when he notices the bruises that litter your arms

from bumping into corners and walking into walls

he has a cane made for you, to help you more safely make your way through the keep.

it's the greatest gift he can give you: the freedom to walk your own path.

one day, as he's telling you about the recent flight he took upon vhagar, you ask him what the sky looks like.

"well, it's blue"

you blink at him, wait for the ball to drop.

"but you wouldn't know what that means"

he tries to think of something else, a different way to describe the vastness of the sky

"have you ever ridden upon a horse?"

you nod your head

"have you ever ridden fast upon a horse?"

you nod again.

"that feeling, when you're gripping at the reigns, and the horse's hooves beat against the ground like a drum, and the wind takes no mercy on your hair, and, for a moment, there's this... warmth of possibility, anticipation, right here" he guides your hand to rest atop your chest, on the side that your heart rests. "that you can leap and beat any obstacle in your way, and for a moment the world is open, and vast, and limitless. that is what the sky looks like, the perfect place to race upon horseback."

"except you're on a dragon."

"well, yes, but find me a horse that has wings and i promise to take you riding up in the sky one day."

you ask him to describe more things, more often.

the forest.

the iron throne.

the sea.

vhagar.

each book he reads you.

till one day you ask, "what do you look like?"

he tries his best.

he tells you about his signature targaryen hair,

and helps guide your hand up to touch it.

he tells you about his pointed nose,

and guides your pointer finer up to drag itself down the length of it.

he tells you about his jawline,

and lets you feel that part of him too.

"and your eye?" you ask.

he doesn't say anything

but he does peal off his eyepatch

and guide your hand up to run down the length of his scar.

"what does it look like?"

"gross."

"that's funny, because it just feels like skin. is all skin gross?"

"no but this skin... it's damaged."

"i feel something. it's hard," you murmur, as your nail traces over the curve of the gemstone that fills his socket.

"it's a sapphire."

"a sapphire?"

"yes. it's like a precious, shiny, smooth, blue rock."

"what about the other eye, the one that's still there?"

"what about it?"

"what does it look like? what colour is it? eyes have colours, don't they?"

"they do," he says, gazing into the hypnotising shade of your own, "it's blue."

"the sky, the sea, your eyes. i think blue might be my favourite colour."

he falls asleep that night with a smile on his face

his heart relieved that you never asked him to put into words what you look like,

because there simply aren't enough words known to man,

be it in the common tongue

or high valyrian,

to describe how beautiful you are.

he tells you as much, when you do eventually ask.

in the fallout of storm's end, soaked to the bone and regretful,

it's you who his legs carry him to

your chambers, to be exact

it doesn't even cross his mind to care that his knocking at your door awakens you

he doesn't care, loses all ability to do so when he collapses into your arms

"i made a mistake," he tells you, when you ask what's wrong

"that's okay, mistakes help us learn better."

not this one, he thinks

you're so gentle with him

and your skin is so warm against his cold

that he can't help himself

his lips find yours.

his hands find your hips.

his breath gets lost somewhere between you both.

but that's okay,

you're all the air he's ever needed.

he feels selfish, when he guides you over to your bed.

and he knows he should tell you what's happened,

what's changed.

he knows he shouldn't be touching you with hands that are stained by blood.

but he's desperate,

and he's breathless,

and he's so frighteningly in love with you.

"please, aemond," it's you who begs for more.

it's you who tugs on the leather of his jerkin.

it's you who pulls at the cotton of his shirt.

it's you who he gets undressed for.

you both wind up naked upon your sheets,

limb tangled with limb.

"i wish i could see you," you tell him. "but i don't need to see you to know you're beautiful, aemond. i feel it, in everything you do for me."

so he lets his own eye shut.

decides he doesn't need to see you either,

not like this, his skin tainted with the smell of the rain, and his dragon, and the velaryon boy's scream.

and the truth is, he wants to take you like this.

he wants to be cruel, and damn you to a life by his side.

but he looks at you,

naked beneath him,

lips swollen with his kisses,

the shine of your own arousal peaking out from that space between your thighs,

and all he sees is the girl he read stories to.

the girl who swooned and awed over every cheesy line about a knight,

and all his knightly honour,

loving his lady in the way that's deemed right by the gods and the lords.

and aemond just can't bring himself to defile your honour,

not like this.

so even as you whine,

and moan,

and offer up your maidenhead on a platter of your unapologetic beauty,

the prince just continues to edge at both your own pleasures,

hips grinding back and forth,

lips tangling with your own,

voice whispering nos, and we can't do thats, and not yets.

"tomorrow," he promises, the spill of his pre-seed smearing along your pelvis with each stuttered thrust of his hardened cock against your soft skin, "i'm going to ask your father for your hand."

"but, how?" you sound so pretty, he can't help himself and lets his eye reopen, searing the haunting image of you naked and pliant beneath him into his mind's eye.. "your mother... she said you flew to offer your hand to one of the baratheon girls."

"what i promised lord baratheon was a targaryen prince, and i intend to keep that promise," he speaks with so much conviction, skipping over the events of his nephew, and his dagger, and his joyride in the sky. "daeron is a boy of sixteen, he can have her. but i, i will belong to you."

the will to leave you, maidenhead still intact, somehow finds its way into his heart

he doesn't fail to leave you sated, however,

his finger dancing along the pretty pearl that has you whining his name and losing your mind upon the mattress.

he keeps his word,

wakes not with the urgent need to discuss last night's war-inciting events with his mother

but with the burning desire to find your father and win his approval

he doesn't find him in his quarter of the keep.

or in the training yard.

or in his seat at the small council.

what he does find is his fear stricken mother,

his stoic grandfather,

his giggling brother.

"aemond, what have you done?"

he doesn't answer

they already know what he done,

the whole realm likely knows, his half-sister too.

so he asks what he really cares about,

asks where your father is.

"he's gone," his mother answers.

"after he heard about your business with lucerys," aegon continues. "the traitor's taken his family to dragonstone and bent the knee to our bastard-bearing cunt of a sister."

so yeah that's what i'm thinking about.

anyway, goodnight <33

#aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen oneshot

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adventuringblind · 8 months

Text

Make Me Yours

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: chaotic smut (I'm a slut for this man)

Summary: Daniel mentions something to Oscar and he takes a shot in the dark.

Warnings: KNIFE PLAY, blood, intensive aftercare, Max and Daniel being big brothers, Oscar is a dork and we love him for it, enemies to lovers if you squint, soft dom Oscar, Reader is a mess for Oscar and he loves it.

Notes: This was an anonymous request! I hope you like it!! Please remember to communicate and take care of yourselves if you engage in a kink like this!! Reader is a Redbull rookie which I know is ridiculous but it's fiction.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

She wouldn't say her sex life is vanilla. Definitely the opposite, actually. Most people would look at Oscar and assume he is the most boring human on the planet.

They are all wrong.

Most the drivers, including herself, teased him about how he knows two positions maximum. He'd gotten fed up with it and showed her exactly why everyone is wrong.

Turns out pent up tension from being rivals from F3 and F2 leads to these situations. The situation being mind-blowing sex with the one guy who you didn't want to admit feelings for.

Formula 1 is an unforgiving world. She didn't need feelings getting in the way. Until Oscar came along and ruined it all.

Until that night, at least. Now they are stuck together like glue. It drives Max and Daniel insane with how much he's around the Redbul garage.

She tried to use the 'best friends' excuse until Daniel caught them in her driver's room.

"It's always the rookies."

That being said, her problem isn't the sex, or Oscar, or her relationship at all. The problem is how to bring up something she would like to try.

Both of them like trying new things and have been very clear on boundaries and keep open communication about the subject. He's never judged her for anything she's brought up. So why can't she just ask him?

"Something on your mind?" Daniel appears from thin air, and she slams her phone down out of view. She prays he didn't see the pictures of the silver blades and thinks she a psycho.

"Nope," she squeaks. A terrible recovery on her end.

"Watching porn? Looking at Mr. Piartri's nudes? Come one, you can tell me!"

Max pokes his head out from around the corner. "Are we talking about sex?" Here she thought the secluded space would be far away enough for them to come bother her. Then again, Daniel could help her out. He's good at talking to people.

"Pretty sure you and Charles talked about it last night." She quips without looking at him.

She's blushing and embarrassed. Her brain is yelling at her to run as far away as possible before she does something stupid-

"Hey Daniel, you know about sex stuff right?" Wow, that doesn't sound awkward at all.

"Yes?" He quirks his eyebrow at her. "But if you're looking for a threesome I'm going to have to decline. For now, at least," he winks.

She chokes at the notion. She's going to explode at this rate. Time to bail out. "Never mind, it's not that, but it's dumb."

Max appears fully in her line of sight. "You can't leave us hanging now! Oscar not performing well anymore?" His expression suddenly goes dark. "Or if he hurt you, I won't hesitate to send him into the barriers."

"No! no, it's not him it's me. I don't know how to ask him about something."

Both the males soften. It eases the anxiety a tiny bit, but she'd still rather not be here.

"Hmm, can I ask what it is?"

"A kink," she whispers away from him.

Daniel hears it anyway. "Yours or his?"

"Mine."

Daniel, now seeing he's not going to get anywhere like this, tries a new approach. "Look, this is a no judgment zone, right? Max talks about Charles and their sex life any chance he gets. I am an open book. No laughing or cringing, okay?"

It still feels weird having this conversation. But Daniel isn't going to let it sit now. Curse her impulsive mouth. "Knives. I want him to use a knife on me."

~~~~~

Oscar is sitting in wait around the Redbull motorhome. His girlfriend had said she'd meet him out here and he hasn't seen her all day, so he came early.

Media days are usually difficult for her. The journalists manage to find some new sexist thing to point out every race weekend. It drives all the drivers insane. They can't just let it go and move on to something new.

"Hiya mate!" Daniel appears around the corner and Oscar manages (just barely) to not jump out of his skin. "You waiting for your girl?"

"Yeah, I'm early though. Do I need to go?"

"Nah, you're fine." Daniel throws him a grin. "I'm curious how you keep the marks on her hidden. Been wondering for a while now."

Oscar blinks. His brain is trying to process the last Statement. "You mean... like a hickey?"

"No! The scars." Daniel looks like he's just said the most obvious thing. Oscar is still trying to remain neutral in what is definitely an odd conversation.

Scars? What scars is he talking about? "I-"

"Don't tell me you don't see it! That girl totally has some kind of knife kink."

Knife kink?! Where is this coming from? He tries to think back to any hint of it on her end. It's not like he's opposed to trying new things and he wouldn't be shocked if she felt weird about bringing it up.

"I'd ask her about it mate." Daniel winks and disappears into the crowd of people.

Oscar tries not to think too hard on it. It's just a weird comment made by Daniel in passing.

At least, that's what it started as.

Oscar then finds himself doing research on it. A deep rabbit hole that now occupies far too much space in his brain.

The idea of her permanently some kind of mark he puts there drives him wild. Which is odd, because it hasn't before. A visible hickey every now and then does the trick. Satisfies him when they go out places.

After the first 'I don't see your boyfriend,' he started putting one on her collar bone. Not visible unless she deems it so amd fresh enough to ward off any suspicious characters.

Curse Daniel for giving him this stupid idea. Something more permanent than a hickey sounds appealing.

If it were up to him, he'd keep her in his pocket. It's funny, really, how she thought he didn't know about her feelings. Oscar had played the game for two years. Then he couldn't take it anymore and he snapped.

Yes, she's snarky and moody, and as picky as Lando, until you get past the hard exterior and see she's all soft and squishy. Most of the time, anyway.

He asks her about it after Silverstone. He's coming down off his high and drunk on the adrenaline paired with a shot of success. The confidence boost is really what he needs to put the idea out there. As outrageous as it seems, Daniel might have a point.

"I was thinking about something." He starts off with. She flops onto her bed. Not his since Lando manages to get into his room at the worst times.

"Something good I hope?"

"Depends." Oscar adjusts their position so he can cradle her. The way she snuggles into him like an affectionate cat makes him melt. "It's kinky."

"The best kind of thoughts to have!" She taps his nose with her index finger to accentuate each word.

Oscar steels himself for the possible outcomes. "What if we tried knives."

There is an unmatched look of pure shock on her face. Oscar is prepared to reassure that she doesn't have to, until he notices the glint.

"Yes! I mean - yeah, we should give it a try."

Huh, so Daniel was right. Oscar will have to thank him later for the tip. "We need to talk about it first. I'm thinking either talk now and do it or we save it for a later date."

"How about we talk now, then see?"

"Sounds lovely."

~~~~~

The more Oscar talks, the more she wants it. It's ridiculous what he does to her with merely his voice. Or maybe it's the constant regard for her wants, needs, and safety.

Yeah, it's true what they say: consent really is sexy.

"Love? Did you hear what I was saying?" His voice has they soft mellowness about it that calms the raging see of her emotions.

"No..."

"Stay with me, yeah? I'll put this off if you aren't coherent enough to truly consent to anything." Yep, sexy. No doubt about it.

"I'm here, promise! Just got distracting... thinking."

"About?"

She waits a beat to see if he's willing g to drop it. He makes no indication he'll be moving on, however, making her forced to answer. "Your voice..."

She is going to combust at this rate. It's embarrassing how wrecked she is already. Oscar hasn't even touched her, but the sight of him with the glinting silver blade in his hands has her going feral. The crazy eyed, drooling kind that makes her seem like she should be locked up.

The fact Oscar spent over two hours in discussion and has research to back up every point her makes drivers her wild. She would happily spend the rest of her life with him even after a measly two years together.

He's ruined her. Oscar has made it so she will never be able to leave. So what if she's dramatic? Can you really blame her when she has Oscar Piastri standing in front of her looking ready to devour her?

Oscar takes his time. It's slow and gentle kisses, nimble fingers finding their way around the canvas he knows so well. "Fucking hell you're gorgeous."

She takes a mental note of the way she's in no clothes and he's got all his own. It's unfair and she tugs at his sleeve to signal she wants it off. Oscar complies and pulls the fabric off.

He goes back to licking his way around the inside of her mouth. Her hands relax around his body, taking comfort in the warmth and closeness of the skin-on-skin contact.

His fingers slip through her folds and like muscle memory locate her clit. It's pathetic the sounds he's getting her to make. Specifically, while holding the pocketknife, unopened, in his free hand.

"So pretty for me love. I would cut you up and put you in my pocket if I could. Carry your cute ass around with me like a good luck charm."

She's so far down the rabbit hole of her favorite headspace. Oscar's words are just swimming around her, until the sound of the black clicking open pulls her back into reality.

He presses the flat part of the blade against her arm. The cold of the metal sends a shiver running down her spine.

Oscar is looking deep in the eyes, mapping out every emotion and physical reaction she's having to the sensation. "Color?"

"Green, very green, the brightest of greens-" Oscar shuts her up with a kiss to her temple. It's gentle and meaningful. Enough to turn her right into a blushing mess.

Oscar checks in frequently every time the blade moves. The masochist is jumping for joy when the tip barely rests against her shoulder blade. "Are you ready? Want me to mark you? Shall I make you bleed for me?"

"Please," She whines.

"Keep your eyes on me yeah? You say red and I stop."

She signals that she understands and would like to continue. Oscar traces the line he wants to make.

She hisses when the knife presses downwards. Oscar panics, but he watches her eyes roll back and knows to continue. "Eyes on me, love. I want to see how pretty you look."

The cold stinging sensation makes her whimper in pain and moan in ecstasy all at the same time. He's still talking to her. Voice still calm and gentle. He's watching her intently, tracking every shift until he's done.

He keeps a hand on her to let her know he's still present as he tucks the, now closed knife, safely onto the bedside table. Despite looking so composed to everyone else, she notices the small thing about Oscar's shift in demeanor. Like how his pupils are staring at her, just the slightest bit tinged with the desire tor take her in the next ten seconds.

He resists and makes sure she is ready for that first. "Color?"

She slurs through an ungodly number of praises and words resembling 'green'. Oscar basks in it. He sits and caresses her skin as he watches the cut to make sure he really did go light enough.

Small beads of red appear at the surface, but not enough that he's concerned with first aid at the Moment. He breathes a sigh of relief.

"Osc? Are you still green?"

Oscar softens again. "Yeah, I'm green, just taking in the sight and - happy I didn't stab you." He's breathless and panting. His jeans straining and her hands aching to get her hands on him.

There is so much love and kindness leading up to him finally getting inside of her. The towel underneath her shoulder catches the run-off red. It falls away with every thrust of his hips and rock of her body.

They hit the edge to quickly. Falling over it in white hot pleasure and moans of joy.

"You're such a good girl for me. You did such a good job." Oscar whispers in her ear as he wipes the cut with disinfectant.

Oscar carries her blissed out body to the bathroom and lets her look at the wound before bandaging it. A perfect heart now rests on the peak of her shoulder. Not massive, but enough to be seen without looking to close.

"I love it."

"Yeah? You ready to bandage it?"

"Do we have to?"

She doesn't get her way. Oscar bandages the heart and gets them cleaned up. Then it's water and snacks in bed.

"I never thought you'd be into it."

"I wasn't until Daniel brought it up."

Her entire being stills. Maybe even goes pale and Oscar looks at her in confused worry.

"I might have asked him for advice on how to ask you... about this."

Once again, his face softens. "You know you never have to be afraid of asking me." A gentle smile appears on his face. "I do think we'll have to thank him for this later."

"You're just going to inflate his ego."

"Maybe it's worth it if he keeps giving me advice." Oscar winks at her and smirks.

Yeah, maybe Daniel's pestering isn't to bad.

~~~~~

Oscar stands waiting for the drivers parade the next race weekend with all the other drivers. He's waiting patiently for his favorite rookie to come and join him.

Instead, he is once again jumping out of his skin because Danile is grabbing his shoulders from out of nowhere. "Could you not, like, scare me? Please?"

"But this is more fun! Certainly not as much fun as you had, I'm sure. I saw the scar." Daniel wiggles his eyebrows.

Oscar is blushing, he can feel it in his face. The words he wants to say are not coming out like he intends. "yep, I - um... thanks."

"Let me know if you need any other advice." Daniel smirks and claps him on the shoulder, Leaving Oscar a mess.

This is why I get teased; he thinks.

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virune · 3 months

Note

Well if you're not completely swamped with prompts yet — Shadow has been struggling with figuring out how best to confess his feelings to Sonic, and finally decides as that as Sonic's brother, Tails would know best what he'd like and how to ask him out. At the same time, unbeknownst to him, Sonic has gone to talk to Rouge for much the same reason…

Tails was incredibly smart.

No, he was a genius.

So when he withered in response to Shadow's question, Shadow couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.

"You two are best friends, aren't you? Surely he'd mention… something?"

"Brothers," Tails corrected, setting his pencil down atop the schematic he'd been working on. "And Sonic doesn't talk to me about his love life."

Shadow glanced around the workshop, looking for… what? He wasn't sure. A clue of some kind? A photograph, maybe, or an item that might belong to someone besides Sonic or Tails. But there was nothing, that he could tell, of the sort.

"Is that because he isn't dating, or because he keeps his relationships private from you?"

Tails shrugged. "I don't know. Could be either."

"Hm."

"Why are you asking about his love life, anyway? Are you interested in him?"

Shadow froze up, staring at an oil stain on the floor as the words of denial died in his throat. He heard the chair creak as Tails shifted his weight on it.

"Are you planning on telling him how you feel?"

"I don't know how," Shadow said softly.

The fox's keen ears twitched, hearing it anyway. "You want me to help?"

Shadow's eyes snapped back up, mouth parted in surprise. Hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, all he could do was nod.

"If it makes you feel better, you have my blessing. Not that you need it; Sonic's allowed to date whoever he wants. I'm just letting you know."

Something fluttered in Shadow's chest. Tails had always seemed so afraid of him. He never thought the fox would ever approve of Shadow courting his best friend - no, his brother.

To hear his approval was… it was nice. Encouraging. Shadow had harboured feelings for Sonic since they first met - he just hadn't realised what those feelings were until a few weeks ago.

Unsure how to navigate this new, foreign territory, Shadow had to admit to his own inexperience and ask for help.

"Thank you."

Tails smiled softly at that, and Shadow sensed a new, small friendship blossoming between them. He promised himself he wouldn't trample it.

"Like I said, I don't know anything about Sonic's love life," Tails continued. "But you could always try taking him out for food - you know he loves eating almost as much as running, right? And then, maybe you could go somewhere nice. Watch the sunset with him or something."

Despite his nerves, Shadow couldn't help but scoff. "That sounds awfully romantic. Are you sure that Sonic even likes romantic?"

Tails looked at him strangely, as though privy to something Shadow wasn't aware of. "Oh, I don't think he'll mind."

Shadow considered the idea; he imagined booking a reservation at a nice restaurant and wearing something nice. Maybe Rouge could help him get dressed up. Would Sonic dress up too? Would he have to ask Sonic to dress up? Would Sonic even want to--

"Shadow?" Tails called, snapping him from his racing thoughts.

"Yes. Sorry," Shadow babbled, shaking his head. "Does Sonic own any formal attire?"

Tails scratched behind his ear. "I think he might still have an old suit laying around for when he has to attend fancy ceremonies and stuff. He doesn't like wearing it though, so it's usually shoved in a box somewhere until he needs it."

Shadow's shoulders drooped. Ah. So formal wear would be off the table. He didn't want to make Sonic uncomfortable - that would be counterproductive to his goal.

"Never mind, then. I can find somewhere without a strict dress code."

"Huh?" Tails' namesakes bushed up behind him in delighted shock. "So you're really gonna take him on a date?"

Warmth blossomed in Shadow's muzzle. "I am simply taking your advice. Does Sonic have a food preference? Allergies?"

The young fox laughed brightly. "Nah, he'll eat just about anything. Why not take him someplace you like?"

"I do not…" Shadow paused, gritting his teeth, and inhaled through his nose. "I do not have experience with this sort of thing."

"Oh… oh! That's - that's OK!" Tails waved his paws in front of him, quick to assuage Shadow's nervousness. "I can look into it for you and text you an address. Do you have my number?"

"That sounds acceptable." Shadow fished his phone from between his quills. "Here. I don't think I have it."

Tails accepted the phone delicately, tapping digits on the screen. Then there was a ping sound from somewhere on the desk behind him and he reached to pick up his own phone, which now had a text from Shadow's number.

"Done and done! I'll add you as a contact and keep you updated when I find something."

"Thank you," Shadow repeated, taking his phone back and returning it safely within his quills. "I was wondering, though. Why are you OK with helping me? I know that I haven't always been kind to you, or Sonic."

"I know you're a good person," Tails offered, giving a warm smile that crinkled blue eyes. "Sonic knows it too. Trust me."

Shadow peered at him. "Even after all the times we've fought?"

"Well, sure. Have you met the guy? He loves sparring with you. I think he enjoys being challenged, too, because it keeps his skills sharp." Tails turned his attention to his computer, tapping away at the keyboard to begin his search. "Don't worry. I have a feeling it'll go just fine."

Shadow didn't know what to say, so he simply nodded.

---

"My, my! So the Hero of Mobius is asking me for dating advice!"

"Keep your voice down!" Sonic hissed, looking around quickly. "This was a bad idea. Why did I do this?"

"Oh, honey, don't be absurd. Who else could help you with such a delicate topic? So!" Rouge leaned her elbows against the table, resting her chin on her hands as she watched Sonic squirm. "Who's the lucky lady?"

"Uh." Sonic found a group of friends chatting at the bar particularly interesting. Then, a food stain on the floor. Anything but Rouge's piercing stare. "It's actually a… a guy."

Rouge's eyebrows shot up. "Well, aren't you full of surprises, Big Blue?"

Sonic slumped in his seat. He was sure the blush on his face was as obvious as it was warm. "Will you help me or not?"

"That depends. Why don't you tell me a little about this mystery man of yours?"

"Um, well. He - he can be pretty serious most of the time, but he's a good person once you get to know him."

"Is he handsome?"

Sonic flinched like he'd been hit. His fingers tugged at the cuff of his glove.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"Oh, just look at you!" Rouge cooed. "Well, I hope you'll introduce me to him one day!"

"Actually, um. You already know him."

Rouge grabbed her iced tea and stirred it before she took a sip. "Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?"

"You have to promise not to laugh."

"And why would I do that?"

Sonic narrowed his eyes. "Because you would if you knew who I'm talking about."

Rouge sighed and folded her arms. "Just spill it, Blue. You know I'll find out eventually, so I may as well hear it from you first."

"I hate that you're right."

Sonic rubbed his red face. He also hated how difficult this was. Sure, he'd never actually felt this way about someone before, but he was the Hero of Mobius! He was supposed to handle anything thrown at him!

But this was different. This was…

"Shadow."

Rouge blinked. Her wings fluttered slightly, scraping the seat behind her. She tilted her head as if she'd misheard.

"Pardon, sugar?"

"I said - I said Shadow." Sonic's hands curled into fists in his lap. "It's Shadow."

He waited. Waited for the surprised gasp, the hearty laugh, the wipe of an invisible tear from her expensive mascara.

Instead, Rouge had gone quiet. Unusually so. It made Sonic's fur prickle all across his chest.

"Well?" he blurted, aggravated by the silence. "I told you, didn't I?"

"I wasn't expecting that."

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know, I just…" Rouge's eyes seemed to lose focus, as though she were recalling a memory, and then she snapped back to the present moment. "Wow. OK. This is big news!"

Sonic watched her carefully. She must have known something he didn't, but Chaos help him if he tried to find out what.

"You're friends with Shadow, right? So how do I go about… y'know." Sonic gestured vaguely into the air. "Asking him out?"

"Besties," Rouge corrected, smoothing down the longer fur on the back of her head. "And I can tell you for certain that Shadow doesn't care for expensive luxuries. Not like me."

"Does that mean a fancy dinner date is off the table?"

Sonic couldn't help but feel relieved by that; he had an old suit somewhere back home, one he kept around for special events, but he hated having to wear it.

"I think so. But you could always try somewhere a little less… stuffy." Rouge rifled through her handbag and took out her phone. "Let's swap numbers, and I'll track down a nice place for you."

"Oh. I don't… I mean, I've tried to have a phone in the past, but I always end up breaking them." Sonic gave an awkward laugh as he rubbed his neck. "Tails is still figuring out how to make one that's indestructible."

"Well, in that case, I'll get in touch with your little fox friend. He's a smart kid. I'm sure he'll be helpful."

"No, wait! Tails can't find out!"

"Why not?"

"Because I…" Sonic fumbled, feeling more and more like an idiot by each passing second. "I haven't exactly… told him yet."

"I understand," Rouge purred. "I'll keep things vague. Neither your name, nor Shadow's, will ever come up."

"OK. OK, yeah, that sounds good."

"Never doubt me, Big Blue. You've entrusted me with this, and I won't let you down. I'm a professional in affairs of the heart."

For emphasis, Rouge gave a theatrical salute.

Sonic groaned.

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonadow #rune writes #thank you for the prompt!! and sorry it took a while ;-;#two idiots in love except they don't know what the heck they're doing. you love to see it

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joelscruff · 1 year

Text

for what it's worth (joel miller x reader) 18+

part 3 of the soft!dom joel collection has arrived! this one tackles some backstory; it's time to see how they met and how exactly their little "arrangement" came to be. i hope you guys like it, your feedback means the world to me. i also have a kofi if you'd like to give me a tip (but of course this is completely optional). previous parts: you know i don't mean it & don't think we could help it summary: your relationship with joel has always been complicated, but it's about to change drastically, for better or for worse. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: fem!reader, smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), mentions of porn (specifically magazines) word count: 10k (it's a doozy) | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major but i figured i should warn for it anyway.

To say that your first day in Jackson is alienating would be an understatement.

You feel like everyone is staring at you (they are) and no one will let you out of their sight (they won't). You understand immediately that there's a lack of trust which will need to be formed as soon as possible, otherwise you'll never be able to create a home here.

"They're wary of you," Maria explains in your brand new living room - you still can't believe you just went from having barely any possessions to having your own house - and gives you a weak smile, "It'll pass, they just need to make sure you don't have any ulterior motives."

You get it, but it still hurts. Especially that night when you join your new community for dinner and find yourself sitting alone in the corner of the room, poking at your food and trying not to let your emotions betray you. You're determined not to show weakness, even though you've never felt more isolated. You can feel their eyes on you constantly, like they're waiting for you to pull out a rifle and start picking them off like a shooting gallery.

There's only one person who seems to be consistently minding his own business, a middle aged man who sits in the opposite corner of the room. He's hulking and broad, kind of intimidating, but there's a softness to his jaw and the grey scruff covering it that makes you see something else, something kind. He takes large bites and seems lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed on the wall to his left but unfocused, like he's looking through it. He's by himself too, mirroring you, but you can tell by the way people move around him that he's been here for a long time. He must just enjoy his solitude.

"That's Joel," Maria tells you, sitting next to you and following your gaze, "He's my husband's brother, came down here a few years ago."

"He doesn't stare at me like everyone else does," you say, still looking over at him, "Does he just not care or...?"

To your surprise, she laughs, and everyone who's giving you dirty looks suddenly seems to soften. You're grateful for Maria then for bothering to talk to you, to try and trust you.

"Don't ask me to explain the things Joel does, I wouldn't be able to tell you," you notice that she has a full plate of food with her and that she's decided to sit next to you for dinner, an attempt to alleviate the mistrust for you in the room. You can't help but smile, thankful.

"He's a closed book," she continues, "Even Tommy finds him hard to read and he's his own brother."

She changes the subject then, wanting to know more about you and what you've been through, a not so subtle way of trying to get some information for the council. You humor her; you have nothing to lose.

Your eyes still stray to the man named Joel every so often as you speak, but you're not sure why. After about ten minutes he gets up to leave, and you watch him place his empty bowl in the dishwashing area and give the woman working there a small smile. She smiles back, says something to him. He laughs, and you can almost hear it over the bustle of the dining area. You watch as he says something else to her in parting, gives her one more smile, and turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look at you, not even once.

Over the next few weeks, things get better. Less people are looking at you and more people are actually trying to talk to you, get to know you. You have some nice conversations and answer questions about yourself - mostly appropriate, save for the one teenager who kept asking how you got the different scars along your bicep, the long one on your neck, the one on your cheek, stories you really didn't want to recount. After hounding you for a few minutes, her friend had pulled her away with an apology, "She likes scars," she'd said sheepishly, tugging the girl's arm, "Come on, Ellie, leave her alone."

You meet everybody, shake hands and even hug a few people. You start getting invited to things, asked to suggest films for movie night, help set up some games for the kids, Tommy even asks you one evening to help him herd a few sheep that had gotten loose. They trust you, and it feels good.

You still see that man, Joel, every night in the dining hall. But that's the only place you see him. You're not sure where he goes during the day or after dinner; he must just be a bit of a recluse, which you can't blame him for. The people here are nice but a lot are overbearing and a bit too friendly sometimes, plus it's hard to find time for yourself when everyone has tasks to complete and always likes to help each other out. You begin to wonder if he'll ever notice you, which leads you to wonder why it even matters to you that he does.

Your patrols start around the three month mark. Tommy takes you out with a small group beyond the borders of the community and shows you the ropes, points out where most of the patrol spots are with a pair of binoculars and goes over the routine. Your first assignment is simple: manning the watchtower with Maria. You spend most of the patrol getting to know her, hearing about her past and telling her more about yours. You like her a lot, she's easy to talk to and has a strong spirit akin to your own. The conversation gets pretty personal around the seventh hour, and you end up telling her how exactly you got the scar along your cheekbone. She listens deeply, thoughtfully, nodding along as you detail the more difficult things you've had to deal with in the past, the things that have made you stronger.

"You're tough," she says near the end of your shift, nudging your shoulder, "You don't really belong on watchtower, do you?"

You shrug, "I mean, if there's somewhere else I'd be more useful..."

"How'd you like to head out to the ski lodge with Joel next week?"

Your ears prick up at the name and you nod quickly, unsure exactly why, "Yeah, that'd be great!"

"He knows the area well," she adds, then grimaces, "I have to warn you though, he might not talk very much. He keeps to himself, I'm sure you've noticed."

You wonder why she's so quick to put you on patrol with someone who might not even speak to you, but it starts to make sense as you're walking back from the watchtower in the early hours of the morning. Tommy exits the dining hall and walks over to the both of you with a smile, pressing a tender kiss to Maria's cheek.

"How's my girl?" he asks flirtatiously, and she bats him away playfully.

"Was just telling the new recruit that she's gonna go on patrol with Joel next week," she replies, and Tommy stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow.

"Her? With Joel?" he appraises you and bites his lip, "I don't know, honey, wouldn't she be better off with someone who'll actually talk to her? I thought she was on watchtower with you."

"Tommy, I never see you anymore," she gives him an exasperated look, "The weekends used to be for us and ever since the Kingstons left-"

"I know, I know," he looks at you again, twisting his mouth in thought, "I've been, uh, a lot busier than usual lately. We had this family here for a while, big family, they helped out with the patrols. But they decided to go south a few months back, so-"

"So Tommy's been filling in for every shift he can," Maria finishes for him with a sigh, "And I never see the damn idiot anymore."

You smile, "I'm totally fine with taking over for you, really."

Tommy raises an eyebrow, "Seriously? You sure?" Maria slaps his arm lightly and he gives her a look, but then shrugs, "I mean, okay, if you wanna give it a try. It won't be all the time or anything, maybe just every other weekend, but it would actually be a big help."

"It really would," Maria adds, "You have no idea."

"But... you gotta understand, my big brother, he's.... he's complicated," Tommy's expression is serious now as he looks at you, "He's not very talkative these days, not since..." he shakes his head and you don't push it any further, though you do wonder what's changed.

"So you'll do it?" Maria asks, eyes bright.

"Even if he doesn't talk to you?" Tommy adds with a grimace.

You nod, somehow believing it won't actually be that bad.

It is that bad.

The first time you're officially introduced to Joel he doesn't even bother to shake your hand, just nodding vaguely to you as you stand there like an idiot with your palm outstretched. Tommy makes a face at him and then looks back to you with a reassuring smile.

"There's not usually much trouble up at the ski lodge," he says kindly, ignoring Joel's ambivalence, "The trek back and forth is arguably the worst part. The lifts were already damaged beyond repair when we got here so it's a bit of a hike, 'bout an hour to get up there and the same back."

You begin to wonder if maybe this really isn't the best idea, eyeing Joel silently as Tommy explains what you should expect. You've seen this man smile, know he's capable of making some kind of small talk, but it's clear that you're not an ideal candidate as he stands there stiffly and lets Tommy do the talking. Tommy had told you earlier that if the patrol didn't go well he wouldn't make you do it again, and you're already thinking this might be your first and last shift with Joel.

Tommy walks with both of you to about the halfway point, still going over the routine as Joel trudges silently ahead of you. He hasn't said a word, not one word. It's honestly starting to piss you off.

"Well, I gotta head back," Tommy says, giving you another smile of reassurance, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, see how it went, see if we might make this more permanent." He seems doubtful but you can't blame him.

A few moments later it's just you and Joel, hiking in complete silence save for the sounds of nature. The cogs in your head frantically turn, trying to land on something you can say to make things less awkward.

"So, when's the last time you saw infected up here?" you settle on, hoping it'll be enough to start some kind of conversation.

"'Bout a month ago," he replies immediately, voice gruff but quiet, "Weren't too many."

He's got an accent like his brother but it's fainter, less obnoxious, like he's spent more time with non-southern people in the later years of his life. Tommy had said they'd grown up in Texas and lived there 'til he was in his late 20s and Joel his mid 30s, then somewhere along the way they'd separated. You don't know much else about him other than that.

"It's the people you mainly worry about though, right?" you ask, quoting something Tommy had said a few weeks back, "Tommy said you've had more run-ins with raiders than infected."

"Tommy's tellin' you too much," he replies with a grunt, "Don't know what he's even thinking sendin' some kid up here."

You feel anger rise in your chest immediately, "I'm not a kid, asshole."

He stops then, turns around and appraises you with his eyebrows furrowed. It's the first time he's actually gotten a good look at you, his gaze catching on your face for a lasting moment before his eyes fall to your gun. You feel slightly vulnerable, intimidated by his heavy stare.

"How old are you?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Twenty seven."

His brow furrows even more, "Coulda sworn he said you were seventeen."

"Well, I'm not," you reply awkwardly.

"No, you're not," he acknowledges, "I'm sorry," He seems to mean it, giving you the smallest of apologetic nods and then turning around again to keep walking.

"You thought Tommy sent a seventeen year old up here with you? I thought you had to be eighteen to patrol outside the border."

"You do, I just wouldn't put it past Tommy to send a kid up here with me," he grumbles, "Wouldn't be the first time."

"...Why?"

"None of your business."

"Okay, but now I'm just thinking you're some kind of pervert," you say it in a joking manner but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he stops again and spins around, looking at you with what you can only explain as pure rage. You flinch backward, eyes widening.

"Do I look like a fucking pervert to you?" he asks, voice hard and angry.

"I was joking," you say immediately, shaking your head frantically, "It didn't land."

"No, it fucking didn't," he starts walking again at a faster pace, leaving you standing there completely floored.

Yeah, it's bad.

"Ellie's not speaking to him," Tommy explains to you the next morning in the dining hall, hands gripping his coffee mug. You've just told him about your patrol with Joel and the horrible impression you've already managed to make. "I really shouldn't be telling you this but with an outburst like that...I need you to understand why he reacted the way he did."

You look at him, bewildered, "Ellie? That teenager who plays guitar down by the stream?" And the one who'd relentlessly bothered you with questions about your scars, but you keep that part to yourself.

"Yeah, she's...well for all intents and purposes, she's Joel's kid. And she stopped talking to him a while ago, maybe six or seven months back now," he takes a sip of coffee, "Don't ask me why 'cause I have no idea. I've asked both of them and neither'll give me any kind of explanation. All I know is they ain't speakin' and he's heartbroken over it."

"Must've been a bad argument," you say, scrunching your nose in thought, "I mean...seven months? That's a long time to not speak to someone, especially your dad."

"Eh, you haven't met Ellie. She's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. They both are," he shakes his head, "Anyway, you calling him a perv probably pissed him off 'cause Ellie's real special to him, a surrogate daughter. He wouldn't like someone misunderstanding that, seein' somethin' dirty or wrong there."

"I wasn't-"

He puts a hand up, nodding, "I know you weren't, I get it, no worries. It's partly my fault anyway 'cause he's right, I have tried to send a teen or two up with him, thought it'd do him good to mentor somebody again. But he doesn't want it, I know that now. He doesn't want it if it's not Ellie."

"Well, he doesn't seem to like me anyway, no matter how old I am," you sigh, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms, "I mean, he didn't talk to me once after that, not for the whole shift. It was bad. I don't know if it's gonna work, Tommy. I'm sorry."

He nods and gives you a small smile, thumbing the handle of his mug, "It's okay, I didn't think it'd work out anyways." He tries to hide the disappointment in his expression but fails miserably, and you leave the dining hall feeling bad about your failure.

A few days later you're back in the dining hall finishing up dinner, chatting with a few of the community members who you've warmed up most to. There's not many, but you are starting to find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around people as the days go on, more like yourself. You're caught up in a story about an infected you'd encountered in a gas station when their gazes suddenly divert from you and instead fix above your head. Confused, you slow your words and turn around.

"Oh, hi," you say, voice a bit breathless when you see Joel standing there, hands in his pockets, "Did you need something?"

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he says it softly, kindly, completely the opposite of how he'd talked to you before, "When you're finished, of course."

"Oh, yeah, sure," your words are broken and awkward, "Uh, I'll meet you...?"

"I'll be outside the main doors," he says quickly, "Take your time."

"Okay, I'll be out in a few."

He nods to you and then to your friends, then turns on his heel and walks out through the big double doors at the end of the dining area. You watch him go, bewildered.

"I thought he hated you," one of your friends says, voicing exactly what you're currently thinking.

"Yeah," you reply, furrowing your brow, "So did I."

You finish your story much quicker than intended and shove away from the table, waving goodbye to your friends and bringing your empty dish to the cleaning station. You push past the double doors and scan the outside area for Joel, eyeing the picnic tables where a few people are enjoying their meals in the fresh air.

"Hey," you hear behind you, and you turn to see him leaning against the left side of the building, arms crossed, "Over here."

You walk over, trying to plan out exactly what you're going to say so you don't end up making some stupid joke again that'll push him further away from you. It turns out you don't need to, because he speaks first.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry," he says it seriously, a soft and genuine look in his brown eyes, "I treated you horribly the other day, you didn't deserve that."

You raise an eyebrow, "Did Tommy put you up to this?"

He frowns, "No."

"Are you sure? 'Cause if he did...I mean, I get it. It's nice of him to look out for me like that but you really don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything, I'm the one who said the tactless joke."

"Tommy didn't say anything to me," he seems to mean it, kicking the toe of his boot against the building, "And I know you were joking, I knew it then too but I'd just..." he takes a breath, avoiding eye contact, "I was havin' a bad day. Doesn't excuse my behavior by any means but it...you just..." he finally looks at you again, expression pained, "I wasn't expectin' you to be there. Tommy only told me you were takin' over for him about ten minutes before you showed up. And then I thought you were a kid and-"

You put your hand up, silencing him, "Joel, it's okay. You don't have to explain."

"I didn't even shake your damn hand," he says gruffly, sounding genuinely ashamed.

You extend your hand to him immediately, splaying your fingers out into the cold air, "Here, shake it now." He stares at it, unsure, and you wiggle it a bit in response, "Seriously, it's okay. Let's start over, clean slate."

He slowly reaches up to take it, his much bigger hand enveloping yours completely. His grip is strong and firm and you can feel calluses along his fingers, showing you exactly who taught Ellie how to play that guitar.

"Clean slate," he repeats, and it begins.

He's annoying, but you kinda love it.

He's grumpy most of the time, hates when you don't obey his orders, isn't afraid to give you shit, and gets irritated with you very easily. But it goes both ways. You're stubborn and set in your ways, you hate being told what to do, you dish it just as much as you take it, and it doesn't take much to get you riled up. And somehow, as much as you'd both probably hate to admit it, you work well together.

After your little conversation with Joel outside the dining hall, you'd flagged down Tommy and told him you were willing to try again with Joel on another patrol. He'd looked at you like you were crazy but hadn't shot the idea down, telling you that if it's what you really wanted, he'd keep the schedule the same.

You've been up on the mountain with Joel three times now, and while there's certainly been challenges and a few arguments, it's starting to become a routine. He doesn't talk about himself - it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you dare not break - but in return you don't tell him much about you either. Your main conversation points are usually tied to your interests, not your pasts, and you find yourself discussing movies with him, as well as music and books. He's surprisingly well-read for someone in an apocalypse, but you suppose he could say the same thing about you.

The fourth trip is what sets things in motion.

"Did you catch the movie last night?" you ask nonchalantly as you hike beside him, almost to the ski lodge. It's early morning, around five, and the sun is just beginning to crest the tree line, "I don't think Maria knew about the sex scene."

He groans, reaching up to rub the space between his eyes - you've noticed that he does this a lot, a quirk you've become rather fond of.

"Yes," he replies, wincing, "I heard her givin' Tommy a piece of her mind afterwards."

"The way she was yelling for him to turn off the projector was so fucking funny," you grin at the memory, still fresh in your mind, "And listen, I get it, sex is taboo, yada yada yada, but it's not like there were any little kids there last night, it was just the teens. And it's not like it was a porno or something, it was one little sex scene."

"Oh, I know, but I think Maria's trying to keep 'em as innocent as possible for as long as she can."

"Good luck with that," you snort, "I think we all lost our innocence a long time ago, for better or for worse."

"For worse," he replies instantly, "Definitely for worse."

"You're probably right," you grimace, "Although, you know what? I've actually never seen a porno."

He raises an eyebrow at you, "Seriously? Never?"

You bristle slightly, suddenly a little self conscious, "Well, it's not like there's an adult video store in this town, is there?" You can remember them existing when you were a kid, before everything happened, but it's not like you'd had any use for them at that time.

"No, you're right," he turns away from you, lost in thought for a moment, "They do still exist though. Pornos, I mean. Just in other forms. There's a stack of magazines up at the ski lodge, actually."

Your eyes go wide, "Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Could I maybe..." you trail off and stop speaking, realizing that you should definitely not be asking what you're thinking.

"Look at 'em?" he finishes for you, not looking behind him as he keeps walking, "And you call me a pervert."

The conversation ends there, and you don't dare try to continue it.

The day is spent keeping watch along the ski lodge balcony, binoculars passed back and forth as you trade shifts and chat here and there about irrelevant things. Your main objective in this patrol spot is to keep watch of the main watchtower's blind spots, keeping an aerial view of the border perimeter in case people - mainly raiders - decide to make themselves known. You'd thought early on in your admittance to Jackson that infected were their main concern, but you've come to learn that's not the case at all. When Joel had said they'd come across infected up here he'd been lying to you; they'd actually come across a group of raiders who'd tried - and failed - to murder Joel and Tommy during their watch. Not the most reassuring thing to hear now that you've taken over, but you needed to know.

"It's why we got the trip wires down near the entrance now," Joel had explained to you during your second patrol with him, "We won't get snuck up on again," he'd made a face, "Not unless someone decides to disobey my orders."

You'd given him a weak smile, remembering how you'd decided not to heed his warning about going outside the ski lodge after light's out and ended up almost getting your leg shot off by a booby trap, "My bad." He'd rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself.

Now that it's your fourth watch you've gotten the hang of things and have learned to enjoy the semi-solitude of being on the mountain with Joel. He's got a battery operated radio and a box of cassette tapes that keep you from being bored out of your mind, plus a few containers of books that he and Tommy had carried up over the course of a few patrols. Now that you really think about it, you don't remember seeing any of the aforementioned porn Joel had spoken of in any of those crates.

It's midday when you decide to glance through them again out of curiosity, handing the binoculars over to Joel and slipping past him as he traipses out onto the balcony. You head for the boxes immediately and start to dig through them, not sure exactly what you're even looking for. Someone naked, you guess.

"They're not in there," Joel calls to you after a few minutes and you stiffen, turning to look at him through the glass where he can very clearly see what you're doing. He's got a shit-eating grin on his face and you feel your skin flush red.

"I don't know what you're even talking about," you call back, walking away from the books and plopping yourself in the chair by the unlit fireplace, which has somehow become your chair via another unspoken rule, "I was looking for a tape."

"Okay, well the 'tape' you're looking for is in the back of the supply closet," he sounds like he's fighting back laughter and your skin burns even more, "Underneath a box of cleaning supplies."

"I'm ignoring you," you yell out, "Get back to work."

You swear you hear a muffled laugh through the glass.

When he comes in from his shift he barely looks at you, just pushes past you lightly and heads for the supply closet. You follow behind him, heart pounding a bit harder in your chest the closer you get to the stash. He opens the closet door and you watch as he yanks out the cleaning supplies, then digs a bit deeper and reappears with six or seven magazines in his arms.

"Here," he leans them toward you and you hesitantly reach forward to take them from him, "They're mostly from the 90s."

"And you know this because....?" you raise an eyebrow and you swear his cheeks go pink.

"I'm a man," he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant as he passes you again to head back to the living room.

"Perv," you call after him, but he doesn't turn around this time.

"You got ten minutes."

You've never seen so much nudity in your life, which is saying something considering you'd seen your fair share of it back in your QZ when life had been a bit easier. But seeing it on paper, in photographs that have somehow lasted through years of this shitty reality, it's something else entirely. You stare with wide eyes at the onslaught of naked bodies, most of which are posed in extremely graphic sexual positions, and feel your heart continue to pound in your chest.

Without much thought you'd opened the first magazine right there where Joel left you standing outside the supply closet, and you now find yourself sitting in said closet with your flashlight aimed at the pages, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend exactly how you feel about what you're looking at. A lot of it feels kind of fake, especially the looks on the faces of the models, but there's enough sexual energy there that makes you start to feel a bit wet in your underwear, a feeling you haven't experienced for quite some time; not since a few a years ago in the QZ when you'd been in your last relationship.

"I gave you ten minutes," you suddenly hear Joel say from the other room, and you quickly scramble to your feet and frantically shut the magazine, "In case you forgot, it's your turn."

"Fuck," you trip out of the closet and dash to the living room, clutching your brand new collection of media to your chest, "Sorry, I got distracted."

He stands by the balcony door and looks you over quickly, eyes scanning from the magazines to your face and back again, "Enjoy yourself?" his expression is unreadable and it makes you self conscious.

"Oh please," you reply, making a face, "Do not start."

"So which was your favorite?" he asks you casually once darkness has fallen and you're both safely settled in the lodge for the night.

"Which what?"

He looks at you from over his book and gives you a look, like he's questioning your sanity. You stare for a moment and then slap your hand over your eyes when you realize.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you groan, "I'm never gonna hear the end of this now, am I?"

He laughs and you look over at him again, laying there on the couch with a smug look on his face. You retaliate by grabbing the pillow behind you and tossing it at him, making him drop the book he's reading.

"Hey!" he reaches down to pick it up again, "I showed them to you, I'm allowed to ask."

"False," you say, flipping your hair, "And for your information, I only managed to look at one of them."

He chuckles to himself and returns to his book, "Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. I was just kiddin'."

"Joel Miller? Kidding?" you make a faux-shocked face, "I fear we've entered the Twilight Zone."

"Don't even pretend you know what that is," he says it seriously but his smile betrays him, "You didn't know about the Twilight Zone 'til I told you about it last week."

"That's just what I wanted you to think."

He rolls his eyes and keeps reading, letting the silence take over again. You watch his eyes scan the page back and forth, taking in the story - whatever it is - and transporting himself to another world, away from the ski lodge. He does this every patrol once it's too dark to see outside, sets the battery powered lantern to its highest setting and reads until he falls asleep. You wish you had his concentration and focus; instead, you curl up in the red armchair and force your eyes shut until your thoughts quiet down enough to let you sleep. Which is difficult tonight especially, seeing as all you can think about are those damn magazines.

After about five more minutes of silence you take a deep breath, then quietly say, "The one with the blonde girl in the bunny ears."

You don't dare look at him, waiting for his response and focusing instead on the empty fireplace beside you. You hear the crinkling of paper as he dogears the page of his book and then the gentle thud as he places it on the floor.

"That's a good one," he says just as quietly.

Another moment of silence passes, and your skin feels like it's on fire as you whisper, "I like the page where she's like...bent over."

"I can't remember the pages, if I'm being honest," he replies, "I haven't looked at them in a while."

You nod to yourself, "Well, there's this page where the guy has her bent over a table. And he's like...pounding into her from behind." You wait for him to say something else but he doesn't so you continue, "It's one of the only pages where she actually looks like she's enjoying herself."

"Hey, uh, I really was just kiddin'," he says awkwardly, "You don't have to tell me, it's okay."

"Oh," you can't help but sound dejected and embarrassed, your fingers trembling a little bit as you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Sorry."

"I mean, if you want to, you can," he corrects, sounding slightly embarrassed himself, "I know you probably....you probably want to talk about it."

You bite down on your lip and sigh exasperatedly, placing your hands over your face, "Kinda," you mumble against your fingers, "It's all I can think about right now."

"Did it make you uncomfortable?" he asks, voice still gentle, "A lot of people are offended by that kinda stuff, you wouldn't be the first person to find it weird."

"It's definitely weird," you take a shaky breath and drop your hands, "But no, I'm not uncomfortable. It was....I mean, it was hot," you bite your lip, "I haven't even thought about sex for a long time so it made me...uh..."

The silence is deafening and apparently neither of you wants to break it as you sit there without speaking, letting your words hang in the dead air. You suddenly feel like you want to crawl out of your skin for saying anything to begin with, for even asking about the magazines in the first place.

"Wet?" he suddenly says, voice breaking a bit, "It made you wet?"

"Very," you reply, relieved that he's not freaked out and trying to change the subject.

"Well, that's normal," he says, voice stiff.

You can't help but laugh, finally peering over at him and seeing that he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling, "I know it's normal, Joel. It's not my first time being turned on, trust me."

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" he grumbles, looking at you in exasperation, "You can't just say that and expect me to give you a casual response. It made you wet, you got turned on, congratulations."

You stare at him, watching as he reaches for his book again, "Wait," you clamor out of the chair and reach beneath it to grab the magazine you'd looked at earlier. You shuffle over to him, thumbing through the pages until you find the right one, "Here," you open to the correct page and show it to him, "This is the one I'm talking about."

His eyes assess the page, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily in his throat as he takes in what you were referring to. He nods slowly, "Okay yeah, I see what you mean. She's about to come, that's why she looks like that."

Your brow furrows, "You can tell that from a picture?"

He shrugs, eyes still on the magazine, "Well, see, he's rubbin' her clit," he points to it and your face goes hot again, "And he's fuckin' her pretty hard. So yeah, I'd say she's either already comin' or about to." his gaze shifts back to you, noticing that you're staring, and he awkwardly pushes the magazine back toward you, "What?"

"I just..." you swallow, shaking your head apologetically, "Sorry, it just sounded really dirty hearing you say that."

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, shifting on the couch and leaning away from you as he crosses his arms, "Well, you asked."

"I know, I don't mean it in a bad way," you step back and realize you're suddenly throbbing in your jeans, feeling that familiar wetness again, "It just... hearing you say it out loud like that, it makes the picture hotter, somehow."

He looks at you, gaze trailing from your eyes to your lips. You suddenly feel like you've said too much, exposed even though you're fully dressed, and you walk back over to the chair and quickly plop back down in it. You give him another look and see his lips parting like he's going to say something else. Instead he takes a breath and drops his eyes from your face, twisting around on the couch to face the opposite way, "It's late, we should sleep."

"Y-yeah," you breathe, crossing your legs, heart stuttering as your clothed core presses wetly against the denim of your jeans. "You're right."

You curl back up in the chair and try to calm your breath, slow your heart, try not to focus too much on the fact that hearing Joel of all people say the phrases he's rubbin' her clit and fuckin' her pretty hard has made you start falling to pieces. Do you even see Joel that way? Has there ever been a moment where you found yourself thinking about him like that? You want to tell yourself the answer is no, that your body is simply experiencing some pent-up sexual frustration and he has nothing to do with it, but you know you'd be lying to yourself.

He's hot. It's not some shocking revelation or something you've realized over time. There's a reason you'd felt so drawn to him that first day in the dining hall, a reason you'd watched out for him every day and hoped he'd notice you. Hell, there's a reason you're still doing patrols with him despite him being a pain in the ass. You're not an idiot, you know yourself well enough by now to know what these things mean.

You're attracted to him. You've been attracted to him this whole damn time.

You shut your eyes tight and curl up into a ball, holding your knees to your chest. He's rubbin' her clit, his voice echoes in your mind, and your cunt begins to ache.

Stop thinking about it, you shake his words away and try to focus on falling asleep. There's no way you're gonna touch yourself right now, not with him in the room, and you're not gonna excuse yourself either like some horny teenager. You can do this, you can get through it, it'll go away soon.

It doesn't go away.

About twenty minutes later you're still sitting there with your eyes shut, trying your hardest not to touch yourself. But it's so fucking difficult. His words are playing on a loop in your head, over and over, soft yet rough, kind yet sexy, his southern drawl making it all the more hotter:

She's about to come, that's why she looks like that.

He's rubbin' her clit.

He's fuckin' her pretty hard.

I'd say she's either already comin' or about to.

You squirm in the chair, imagining what he'd sound like whispering that in your ear with his fingers pumping in and out of you as you came undone beneath him. Rubbin' her clit, his voice breathes in your mind, fuckin' her pretty hard, she's about to come.

You're ten seconds from breaking your own rule and heading back to the supply closet to find some release when you hear an unfamiliar sound coming from a few feet away. Your eyes flutter open, thoughts stopping momentarily as you try to figure out what it is. You turn slightly in your chair to see if Joel hears it too, and you feel your breath stop completely.

He's turned off the lantern so you can't see him properly, but you can make out the shadow of him in the moonlight, see the long shape of him directly mirrored against the floorboards and his hand stroking himself up and down, quick and rough. Your lips part in disbelief, realizing the noise you're hearing is the sound of his palm slapping against the base of his cock as he jacks himself off.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

Here you've been, desperately trying to push away any and all sense of desire so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself, wouldn't make him uncomfortable, and here he is doing that exact thing. Angrily, almost out of spite, you sit up in the chair and stuff your hand down your jeans.

Two can play at that game, asshole.

Your finger goes straight to your clit and you begin to rub it furiously, eyes trained on the dark outline of his hand moving up and down. You can only vaguely make out the shape of him but it's enough to make you start dripping, the base of your palm getting slick as you stimulate yourself continuously. He's well endowed, that much is obvious, and you watch his silhouette as he releases his large cock for a moment to bring his hand to his mouth and lick a stripe along his palm. You have to bite down on your lip to suppress the moan that threatens to bubble from your throat at the action, watching through lidded eyes as he brings his wet hand back down and fists himself once more.

Without much thought you slip your middle finger inside yourself, eyes trained on him as you pretend it's his cock pushing past your entrance. It's pretty difficult to imagine though, considering his cock is probably five times as girthy as your one finger, but you make do. You can kind of make out the shape of the tip, wide and shiny, disappearing and reappearing over and over. You slip a second finger inside and bite back a whimper.

The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin and the sudden wet squelch of your fingers; you don't even bother to try and make it softer, you're getting off now whether he knows or not, the fullness overwhelming you as you lick your lips and furrow your brow. You haven't masturbated in a long time; you know it won't take you long to get what you need.

"Are you-" he suddenly gasps into the darkness, and your head snaps up to look at him again, heart pounding when you see that his hand has stilled on his cock and he's looking over at you with an expression of pure disbelief.

You should probably be embarrassed, apologetic, but instead you can't help but feel a rush of pride, of spite, as he realizes what you're doing.

"Like you're not," you hiss back, practically spitting as you continue to fuck yourself, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he says back, and you can see his fingers clench around his length, like he's doing everything in his power not to stroke himself.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He groans and lets go of himself completely, sitting up slightly on the couch and shaking his head like he's trying to wake himself up from a dream he isn't having. When he looks at you again his eyes fall to where you're still getting off, not bothering to be sneaky about the way he practically bores a hole in your jeans with his gaze.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" he challenges gruffly, eyes coming back up to meet yours, the hint of a cocky smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Oh, he's proud of himself, isn't he?

You glare at him, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going," you mean it too, fingers not even slowing down as you pant breathlessly in his direction, "And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

It does matter, actually, it really does. If he was to get up and walk out... it would basically be a rejection, something you're not sure you'll be able to deal with. You don't break eye contact with him, staring him down as you give him your own challenge.

He swallows, gives you one last look, and then flops back down into a horizontal position as he reaches for himself again. He returns to his quick strokes, almost purposely more heavy this time as he mutters, "No talking. Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you reply immediately, and add a third finger.

It doesn't take long for you to find your release, a particularly hard slap of skin from Joel on the couch pushing you over the edge. You don't try to stifle your moan this time, focusing completely on enjoying your orgasm as your hand stills in your pants and you begin to shake in the chair. Your hips buck pathetically, eyes shutting tight as you whimper and cry out in pleasure.

"Jesus Christ," you hear Joel pant a few seconds afterward, followed by a long groan as he starts to come too, "Fuck."

You manage to catch a glimpse of the way he twists his wrist, aims his cock against his button-down and stains it with his release. You wish you had a better view, that it wasn't so dark, but just hearing him come apart is enough. It's exactly what you hoped it would be.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, both of you panting breathlessly from your orgasms as the weight of what you've just done starts to creep in. You're suddenly slightly afraid of what he'll say, what he'll do. Will he get mad? Will he say he doesn't want to patrol with you anymore? You decide immediately that you don't want him to have the first word.

"What were you thinking about?" you ask, barely a whisper.

It takes a few moments for him to reply, and you start to worry that you've already ruined everything, but then he answers.

"Bunny ears," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I was thinkin' about the bunny ear girl," he's still breathless, "From the magazine. Weren't you?"

You figure you can't dig the hole any deeper.

"I was just watching you, Joel," you breathe, feeling butterflies tingle in your belly at the words, "Didn't have to think about anything else."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, then mumbles something to himself that you don't understand. You can't fully make out his expression but you swear you see him frown in the moonlight, not exactly the response you were aiming for. He suddenly turns on the couch again to face away from you, exhaling loudly, "Go to sleep."

The words strike you hard, lips parting in surprise. You obviously hadn't expected him to completely reciprocate, to jump into your arms and kiss you, but that? "Go to sleep"? What the fuck kind of a response is that? You stare at him, hoping against reason that he'll turn around again and apologize, say something different, but he doesn't.

"Yeah, sure," you mutter, curling back up into a ball in the chair and hoping sleep finds you as soon as possible so you don't have to think anymore, "Asshole."

You hope he hears you.

You wake the next morning to the sound of someone rummaging nearby, and you open your eyes blearily to see Joel crouched near the door, packing his bag. You stretch and yawn automatically, momentarily forgetting what had transpired between the two of you last night. His head tilts up to look at you and it all comes flooding back when you see that familiar frown on his face.

"Do you ever smile?" you say, voice rough with sleep.

He rolls his eyes and goes back to his pack, shaking his head, "Like you're so chipper."

"Well, at least I have a good reason to be annoyed," you snap, sitting up in the chair and stretching your legs, "Asshole."

"You love to call me that, don't you?"

"Just calling it like I see it," you mutter, pulling yourself up and heading past him to the door, "I'm taking a piss."

"Watch out for th-"

"The trip wires, I know," you interrupt coldly, "I'm not an idiot."

He doesn't say anything else but you feel his eyes on your back as you walk out onto the balcony and down the steps. You both have to pee in the woods when you're out here - the ski lifts aren't the only things that don't work properly anymore - so you've managed to each figure out your own designated area. You feel relieved once you're out of his eyesight and beneath the thick layer of tree branches that keep your makeshift bathroom secluded.

You really shouldn't be so pissed at him, it's not like he owes you anything. You know you're projecting your own feelings onto him and that it isn't fair, but god, him telling you to go to sleep after you'd essentially confessed your attraction to him makes your blood boil. He'd really had nothing else to say? Couldn't have come up with something a little softer, a little kinder? Let you down easy?

You grumble to yourself on the way back up the steps, questioning whether or not you should keep ignoring him or just get over it. Is it really worth an hours hike of hostility? You already know this is your last shift with him, there's no way you can come back from this in any way that will keep your dignity intact. It's over.

"You say you're not a kid but you sure do act like one," Joel says the second you re-enter the ski lodge, and you stop dead in your tracks. He's got his arms crossed, nose flaring in anger, "I'm sick and tired of the silent treatment, the cold shoulder, all that shit. What happened to people just talkin' to each other?"

You shut the door behind you and shake your head, "I'm not giving you the silent treatment Joel, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," his voice is firm but you can hear some emotion there, something deeper. He doesn't like being ignored and you know why, but it doesn't soften your resolve.

"I'm pissed at you, yeah," you admit, shrugging, "But I think I have a pretty valid reason."

"And what is it?"

You stare, scrunching up your face in confusion, "Are you serious? Jesus, Joel, I thought you were smart."

"Oh, fuck off," he grumbles, rolling his eyes again, "I ain't a mind reader."

You shake your head again, inhaling deeply, "I'm not asking you to read my mind, Joel," you exhale and try to calm yourself, feeling the angry tears begin to sting your eyes. God, you hate how emotional you get when you're angry. You hate showing weakness like this.

"Then tell me," he groans, "Is it about last night? 'Cause I thought we made a deal that we're not gonna talk about it."

You laugh at his words, cold and hard, "Right, yeah, sorry. Deal's a deal, right? My bad," you couldn't sound more sarcastic if you tried, stuffing your roll of toilet paper back in your pack and zipping it up, "Come on, let's just head back and forget about it." Your voice cracks on the last few words and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling the tears spill over.

"Are you crying?" his voice falters, and you hear a twinge of kindness in his tone, something you'd desperately wanted to hear last night.

He crosses the room before you even have a chance to reply, striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder firmly, making you turn around. His face softens immediately when he sees the tears streaming down your face, the tears you're already trying to wipe away.

"Fuck," he says, brow furrowing in concern, "I'm sorry."

You snort involuntarily, shaking your head, "I'm just stupid."

"You're not stupid," it's almost a whisper, "I'm the stupid one, believe me," he brings his hand up like he's going to touch your face but seems to think better of it, bringing it back to your shoulder again, "I shouldn't have... I don't know what I was thinkin' last night, I'm sorry. You showed me that magazine and-"

You put your hand up to silence him, "I don't care about why, Joel. I don't even care that you did it, it's not like I told you to stop."

His brow furrows deeper, "Then what...?"

You close your eyes, breathing deeply before putting on your best impression of him and mumbling, "Go to sleep," like he had the night before, opening your eyes again to see if he understands.

He stares at you for a few seconds, confused, but you watch as it suddenly dawns on him, realization spreading across his features. He suddenly lets go of your shoulder and takes a few steps back, eyes falling to the floor.

"You can't... you can't think of me that way," he says it gruffly, swallowing and shaking his head.

You stand there without saying anything, waiting until he finally looks back up at you to speak. When he does, you make sure to look directly in his eyes.

"Why not?"

His hand comes up to touch the back of his neck and you swear you see patches of red begin to bloom along his collarbone, like he's embarrassed...or flattered? You take a step forward and he quickly takes another step backward.

"If it's because of the age thing... I really don't care, Joel," you say earnestly, heart beginning to beat heavily in your chest, "I think you're..." You can't believe the words are even coming out of your mouth, the tears on your face already beginning to dry as you try to process this new situation you've found yourself in, "I think you're sexy."

His brow furrows again, not in anger but in confusion. He doesn't take another step backward when you move toward him this time, staying rooted in place as you peer up at him, waiting for him to speak. He remains silent, his eyes trained directly on your face, lips set in a firm line.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

He shakes his head slowly, "I don't."

"Why?"

He doesn't reply, just keeps staring at you like he has absolutely no idea what to say. You suddenly feel the need to reassure him, comfort him. Your hand moves upward, aching to cup his face in your hand, feel that grey scruff beneath your palm.

He pulls back before you get the chance, shaking his head again, "Don't," it's barely a whisper, voice breaking as he says it, "Just...gimme a minute."

"Okay," you nod, dropping your hand, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizin'," he breathes, still not breaking eye contact, "Just let me think, please."

You swallow, teeth tugging on your lip as he continues to stand there motionless. He's still looking at you but his thoughts are miles away; you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, calculating exactly what he's supposed to do in a situation like this. Part of you wants him to kiss you, part of you wants to kiss him, part of you wants to wait until he makes a decision. You settle firmly on the third option.

"I lied," he finally breaks the silence, jaw tense and firm, "I wasn't thinkin' about that fuckin' bunny ear model."

Your lips part; you hadn't been expecting him to say that.

"Then...what were you thinking about?" You already know the answer before he replies.

"You," his voice is strained, broken, like he's holding himself back, "I was thinkin' about you and the stupid magazines in the supply closet."

You feel your skin flush, a tingle trailing up the back of your neck as you try not to show him how pleased you are, "W-what?"

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about you in that closet, lookin' at those pictures, getting...." he trails off and swallows, then whispers, "Wet. Gettin' all wet in your panties from that girl getting fucked."

His words send an immediate throb to your core and you can feel your heart in your throat, pounding relentlessly as he continues to speak, continues to say exactly what's been on his mind as you stand in front of him, so much smaller than him, letting his words get lost in the sudden warmth of your body and the buzz of your thoughts.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about it," he repeats, voice rough, eyes dark, "Your wet panties, your big eyes, your..." he practically chokes then, "Your pussy, all wet and aching."

"Oh my god," you whimper, crossing your legs involuntarily as you feel an immediate surge of wetness in your underwear, "Please, keep talking, please."

"Wanted to see it and touch it," he murmurs, his breath ghosting across your face as he peers down at you with desire in his eyes, "Wanted to fuck it and make you come."

Without hesitation your arms shoot up to wrap around his neck, burying your face in his warm chest and tugging at the collar of his coat, "I want you to," you practically moan, clawing at the material, "Joel, I need you to fuck me right now."

To your absolute dismay he reaches up and removes your arms from him, taking a step back so neither of you are touching. His eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide and that red blush of heat now spread all over his neck and cheekbones.

"I can't," he says, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I can't."

You're about to protest, whine and beg if you have to, but his eyes fall to your groin. You watch with wide eyes as he goes for his belt, begins to unloop it and remove it.

"Take your pants off," he groans, and you don't need telling twice.

You end up masturbating together again, this time in the light of day. You find yourselves laying on the couch where he'd slept last night, the memory of what he'd done there fresh in your mind as you pump two fingers in and out of yourself steadily and watch him stroke his cock to match your pace. He watches you behind hooded eyes, his lips parted as he pants and gets himself off to your pleasure, watches you do the same thing to him.

"That's it," he murmurs, eyes scrunching in arousal as he scans your face, watches you come undone, "Rub your clit, nice and fast."

You whimper, unable to hold on for much longer as you eye his cock and see the way the fat head of it drips for you, slicking his hand and allowing him to stroke faster and faster. You want to say something to help get him off too but your words are completely lost in the sensation; you couldn't speak even if you wanted to.

He knows you're about to come, can see it in your face the way he saw it in the face of the model in the picture. He swallows heavily and fucks himself impossibly faster, harder, silently asking you to match his pace. You do it, thumbing your clit and feeling the tense coil in your belly snap as your jaw drops and you let out a long and ridiculously loud moan. Your eyes shut tight and you throw your head back, feeling your body begin to shake from the stimulation.

"There you go," he grunts, and you hear the slapping of skin stop as he rides out his own release, coming into his fist, "Fuck." Your eyes open at just the right time to see his jaw go slack, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the pleasure. It somehow makes you ache for more, even though you can't possibly imagine being any more overstimulated than you already are.

You both lay there, chests heaving, hearts pounding, completely undone. It goes without saying that you've both just managed to each have one of the best orgasms of your lives.

"New patrol rule," you whisper to him, legs still wide and cunt dripping with your release, "We do this. Every time. Please."

"Yes," he replies immediately, still catching his breath, "I can do that."

"It can't be any more than this," Joel says to you quietly as you hike down the mountain a little while later, the sunrise cresting the trees again the way it had yesterday when you'd hiked up; it's like nothing has changed, but you both know that everything has.

"Okay," you say just as softly, though part of you aches to reach for his hand, loop your pinky through his and have some degree of touch between you. But you can tell he means business, that there won't be any more discussion on the matter today.

"Just this," he whispers, glancing at you with a meaningful look, eyes soft and tender as he peers at you, knowing what he's done, what he's started.

"Just this," you agree, but you don't really believe it.

You hope, deep down, neither does he.

thank you so much for reading! there will be more in this collection coming very soon. i'd like to do some short fics of certain nights they've had, especially the first time he calls her a good girl. that was originally going to be in this part but it was just getting wayyy too long and i have so many ideas i need to flesh out more lol. i'm also going to continue where they left off in "don't think we could help it", and yes, eventually they will do the deed, i promise. among other things....

if you liked it, please let me know! and again, if you'd like to give me a tip you can do so on my kofi 💖

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*#fic: soft!dom joel

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samandcolbyownme · 9 months

Text

Summary: y/n is partnered with popular party boy, Sam, for a project and she hates it. Not a request

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of alcohol, slight angst, slight hatred towards each other, mainly reader towards Sam, mean comments, flirting, unprotected sex, biting, scratching, general filth

Word Count: 10.4k | not edited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

"I've been thinking about it.." your professor starts out, "..and instead of doing an actual test for the final, I'm going to have you guys do a project. On any historical event of your choosing."

"If we get to have partners, you're mine." Your friend nudges you. You look at her with a nod, "Oh of course."

"You will have a partner.." your professor continues and you look at y/f/n with a wide smile. But, that quickly gets ripped away, "But I will be assigning you your partners."

"Of fucking course." Y/f/n grumbles and you sigh, "Maybe he knows how well we work together. Maybe he'll assign us together."

She sighs, "I doubt that."

You knew she was right. You knew you'd probably get stuck with someone who would have you doing all the work anyway. Someone who has excuse after excuse as to why they can't get together and work on it.

Your leg bounced up and down as you wait for you and your friend's name to be called. Finally, towards the end, "Y/n y/l/n. You'll be partnered up with Sam Golbach."

You closed your eyes, completely shutting everything out as you sat in your anger, "Really?" You look at your friend, "Sam's hot. You just hate him because he's popular or whatever. I don't know. Some stupid reason that you just need to get over. You're lucky you didn't get stuck with Nevin."

"Is that who-"

"Yep."

You pout, "I'm sorry." You knew she was mad, but not at you. She was just taking it out on you, which isn't something new. But she was right, you did kinda hate Sam, but it wasn't stupid, well to you at least.

She rolls her eyes, "Uh huh." She stands up, grabbing her bag, "Gotta go meet my project partner." You sigh, "Yeah, gotta go find mi-"

"Hi." Sam is standing there with a toothy grin. You wanted to smack it off of him, "Yeah, hey." You roll your eyes as you grab your bag off the chair next to you.

"Hey, no need to be so hostile." Sam laughs and you stay silent, turning away from him. You start to walk away and he's right on your tail, saying hi to every girl that, god forbid gawks at him.

"Anything to fulfill your ego, right?" You mumble to yourself as you stare at the door ahead.

Sam jogs up next to you, "You say something?"

"Even if I did would it matter?" You pull your book closer to your chest and Sam laughs, "I mean, yeah. Kind of."

"Why?" You stop and look at him and he shrugs while shaking his head, "Because.. we're.. partners?"

You pause for a moment, "Yeah. Still wish that wasn't real."

"Why are you so negative about me? Is it because I haven't given you any attention?" He laughs and you gag, "no. I'm glad you haven't. And if we weren't partners, I would still be avoiding you."

"Avoiding me?" He furrows his brows and walks with you, "Am I that bad?"

You snort, "I mean, I just don't want to risk catching anything you may have gotten from the streets here at Silverston."

Before he can say anything else, you cut him off, "You don't need to explain yourself to me because I promise you.." you turn to look at him, "I'm not even going to risk it."

Sam's eyes move over your face as he pushes the door open, "Uh huh." He motions, "After you."

You roll your eyes walking out of the building, "So I figured we could just go to the coffee shop and start working on this final."

Sam sucks air between his teeth, "Actually.."

"I'm going to be doing all of this?" You sigh, "Good thing I already planned on it." You go to walk away but he stops you, "Actually, I have a date, but if you wanted to I can come over after."

You laugh, "No. thanks. I don't need you infesting my dorm with whatever you'll freshly be infected by whatever falls into your trap this time."

"How do I know you don't have anything? Sounds like you're projecting.. or something." Sam smirks and you roll your eyes, "While I am impressed you know what projecting in that sense means, I can actually show you my medical record."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." He winks and you fight back laughter, "In your dreams, Golbach. I'll text you when I figure out what I want to do the project on."

You turn and as you're walking away, Sam yells out to you, "You don't even have my number."

"I'm sure I can walk to the street corner and get it." You yell back and walk away laughing.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You lean back from your laptop, cracking your knuckles as your eyes scan over the page of notes that you took.

Your phone chimes, you don't think anything of it.

It chimes again. Still nothing.

Finally on the third, you sigh, "I'm fucking busy." You mumble as you pick up your phone. You laugh as you read over the texts from an unknown number.

I guess you didn't walk to the street corner to get my number.

Did you find an idea yet?

Date went awful. Text me your dorm info.

"Fucking. Sam." You clench your jaw as you think of something to say, but instead you don't. You just set your phone back down and decided that you'll tell him you fell asleep or something.

As you go back to taking notes, there's a knock on your door. You thought that maybe your roommate forgot her key again, so you get up, "Did you forget your key again, Lauren?"

You open the door, smile instantly vanishing as your eyes meet those blue ones, "What are you doing here?"

"We have a project to work on, remember?" Sam pushes the door open and walks in. You look around to make sure no one seen him walk in and you turn, "Yeah no shit, but I mean.. here. In my room."

"You weren't answering my texts. My date went bad, and-"

You cut him off, "Then you told me to text you my dorm info... so what I'm getting is that you still can't take a hint?"

He laughs and swings his backpack off his shoulder, "yeah, yeah. Let's just get start- oh. Shit." He looks from your progress then back at you, "You're really doing this thing aren't you."

"I need to pass Sam. With or without you." You walk back over to the couch, sitting down to pull your laptop on your lap.

"Oh, so you did read my texts." Sam sits down and you laugh, "Where have you been? We were already over this."

"Well fill me in. What did you pick?" He leans over to look at your screen, and you stay quiet as you take in how good he actually smells, but quickly snap out of it. You shake your head slightly as you clear your throat, "I picked the Battle of New Orleans."

"That's a good one. I was thinking that one, too." Sam nods and leans back. You raise your eyebrows, "Really?"

He goes into shaking his head, "No. not at all."

"Figures. You were only thinking about getting your dick wet." You mumble and focus back on the computer.

Sam laughs, "Think what you want, but with who showed up on that date, you wouldn't be surprised that I ditched."

"Who was it?"

He raises his eyebrows, "Do you really want to know or are you just nosey?"

You shrug and smirk, "Both."

He laughs, "Alright, well I had a date set with Candice, but her sister showed up instead."

You raise your brows again, "Well.. that's not really fair. Setting her sister up for failure like that."

"Yeah, I don't know." Sam shakes his head, "Her sister, isn't my type so."

"Of course you have a type." You roll your eyes and he tilts his head, "You have a type, too, y/n. We all do." You look up at him, "Oh yeah? What my type then?"

He smirks, "Tall. Handsome. Blue eyes. Dark hair."

"Is that why you dyed your hair?" Your eyes flick up to his messy brown hair, "I knew something was off about you."

"Ouch. That hurt." He lays a hand on his chest, "I'm not your type?"

"Not at all." You go back to looking at your computer and reach out to toss a notebook at him, "That's what I have down so far. I'm thinking we can just do a slideshow."

He grabs it, eyes scanning over as he nods, "What can I do?"

"Are you actually going to take this seriously?" You look up at him and he nods, "Yes."

"Okay. Good. So what you can do first, is get out of my dorm." You stare at him and he smirks, "You're so cute when you're mad."

"Ew. No. Get out." You close your lap top, "I need to go get dinner anyway."

"Let's go together. We can work on this while we eat."

Although the offer did sound tempting, you really didn't want to be seen with him, labeled as another notch in his belt, "I'd rather stick needles in my eyes and slam my head into the floor."

"You really don't like me do you?" Sam smirks and stares at you and you shake your head, "Not really, no."

"What did I ever do to you, huh? Seriously."

He knew you couldn't answer because there wasn't anything he personally did to you. It was more or less how and who he is as a person.

"You want an honest answer?" You sit up more and cross your legs as you look at him.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." Sam shrugs and you sigh as you lean forward to set your laptop on the small table in front of you, "You're a fuck boy, first of all. Second of all, I really don't want to be seen with you because I'm not going to be labeled a whore who's seen with the guy who's been in everyone on campus."

"I haven't been in everyone on campus." He mocks you, "I know that for a fact because I haven't ever been in you."

His words make your cheeks heat up, "Get out."

"Im joking. Im joking. I'm sorry." He laughs, "I had to. I had to, y/n.Now come on." He readjusts his sitting position and motions to the notes, "what can I do, other than get out?"

You sigh, "Why do you have to be my partner?" You grumble as you open up a new note book. Sam sighs, "Yeah I ask myself that, too."

"What's that suppose to mean?" You look over at him and he looks at you a few seconds, "Oh! I thought we were just saying things that we didn't really mean or weren't true or something like that." He snickers, "If it means anything, I'm glad you're my partner."

You snort, "Why? Because I'm smart and I'd do all the work? Or because you think you can get under my skin and torment me into wanting you?"

"I don't have to do anything, y/n." Sam smirks, "But since you said it. I do have to agree with you. You are very smart."

"Yeah, I know." You look down at the notebook that's lying between you and Sam on the couch, "Okay."

You write down a few things for him to research, "Here." You rip out the page and fold it up, "Look these things up and write down what you think is important enough to put on the slides."

He reaches forward and takes the piece of folded up paper, fingers brushing against yours, "I'll get right on that."

You pull your hand away, "Uh huh. I'm sure."

"I'm serious. I bet you I can fill this paper by morning."

"And If you don't?" You raise a brow, intrigued by this deal that's in the motion of being made.

Sam thinks for a moment and snaps, "I'll do the whole project myself.."

"Um, no. I really don't want to fail." You laugh slightly and he sighs, "Fine. You do one half, I'll do the other. And if I actually follow through my half.. I'll..." he looks around and shrugs, "I don't know."

You secretly liked Sam, but you put a barrier between you and him because you were saving yourself from the heartache of being cheated on or something.

"Maybe stick to one girl for once in your life." You look up, shocked that you just said that out loud, "I-um. I didn't.. mean to say that."

He stares at you, "Alright. You're on."

"You're lying." You roll your eyes, "As soon as you leave here. You'll be going home with the first bitch you lay eyes on."

"So come home with me."

"What?!" Your head snaps towards him, "No. no fucking way."

"Why not? That way you'll be able to know if I break our deal, and since we don't have any classes until next week.. you can just stay at my place." Sam shrugs, a smug smirk resting on his lips, "Just a thought."

"I have a math final Wednesday."

"So go to it and come back?" He laughs, "Look. I'm just trying to prove to you that I take deals and bets very seriously."

A twinge of excitement snaps in your stomach and before you can even take a second to think about it, "Fine."

Sam smirks and stands up, "Gather your shit. You're moving in."

"No. No. I'm not moving in. I'm just- actually. I don't even know what I'm doing." You run a hand through your hair and Sam walks over to you, leaning down so his face is inches from yours, "You know exactly what you're doing."

You squint, "Do I?"

He nods, "I think you do."

"What is it that I'm doing, Golbach?" You tilt your head and he smirks, "I think you like me."

"Wrong." You instantly say, "You couldn't be any more wrong."

"Then tell me why you agreed?" He stands back up, placing his hands on his hips, "I'd love to hear it."

You search for a reason, "Well, because. You, Samuel Golbach, are a player who needs to realize women aren't toys that you can pick up and put down whenever you get bored of them."

He chuckles, "That's.. not what I do.. but go on."

"It's exactly what you do, Sam. You pick a new girl, every day. Every other day. Maybe if they're lucky, half a week tops. Then you ghost them. Immediately moving on to the next victim.. I mean.. girl."

He laughs, "Oh I can't wait to prove you wrong."

"I will believe it..." You stand up, "When I see it. But you're on."

You start getting your stuff around, packing your school supplies and any other things you need.

"Don't forget clothes." Sam smirks as you look at him, "Yeah, because I'd forget the most important thing." You roll your eyes as he chuckles as you throw a few shirts and other items of clothing into the bag, "Alright." You turn and sigh, "Ready to see you fail."

"You mean win." Sam says in a smug tone and you sigh, "Yeah, whatever. I'm tired and hungry so let's just go."

As you walk out of the dormitory, you stop, "Wait. Girls aren't allowed in the dorms after this time." Sam laughs, "Who said I have a dorm?"

"You don't stay in a dorm?" You laugh, "Of course not."

"Yeah I have my own apartment right outside of campus." Sam points and you raise your eyebrows, voice quiet, "Of course you do."

"Don't worry. You won't catch anything. I rarely take girls there. I usually just kick their roommates out until I'm done."

"You're disgusting." You roll your eyes, hoisting your bag onto your shoulder with a groan. He looks over, "Want me to carry that for you?"

You shake your head, "Nope. I got it."

The thought of why you were doing this to yourself gets you through the walk to his car, "Why did you have to park so fucking far away?"

He rubs the side of his Tesla, "I don't want anyone scratching my baby."

You laugh slightly, "mhm." You throw your bag into the back and get in the front passenger seat, "This is actually quite nice, Sam. I'm impressed."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." He smiles and you huff, "Way to ruin it."

He laughs and starts to drive. About a half hour of silently wondering what the fuck you're doing later, he pulls into the parking spot in front of a nice looking building.

"Well, mi casa es tu casa." Sam motions from you to the building and you tilt your head, "Wow, someone actually paid attention in Spanish."

"Actually."

"There it is." You shake your head and reach for the handle to get out but Sam stops you, "I actually just know that because my friend Colby says it every time I go over to his place."

"At least you're learning something." You raise your brows and go to get out by Sam stops you again, "hold on. One more thing.."

You turn your head and look at him and he sighs, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm happy you ga- I've actually been wanting to do better and I just.." his eyes scan over your face and you feel drawn to him, "I just wanted to say thank you for taking a chance on me."

You blink, breaking your stare from him before you can do anything you'll regret three seconds after, "I'm doing this to pass my class, Sam. Nothing more."

He nods, "Okay."

You turn to get out once more, and he mumbles a quiet, "Sure."

You close your eyes, fighting to give him the reaction he's fishing for, so you just get out. You shut the door before going back to get your bags.

Sam gets out and waits for you at the front of his car, he chuckles as you glare at him, "You act like you're the only one who hates this."

"Then why did you-" you stop, letting out a groan, "I'm walking back to my dorm." As you turn, you're pulled back by the sudden grip on your bag, "Sam!"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just.." he laughs, "the withdrawal, man."

"The with-" you laugh, "You are unbelievable."

"What? I'm just being honest. Isn't the first step to recovery admitting you have a problem?" He laughs slightly and you shake your head, "That wasn't you admitting you have a problem."

He shrugs and you huff, "Can we just go inside please?" He motions, "I wasn't stopping you in the first place."

"Actually. You wouldn't let me get out of the car." You walk past him and he sighs, "I wanted you to listen to me." He walks ahead, opening the door for you and you nod walking in.

You look around as you follow him up the staircase. Your eyes move to the back of his head, quickly moving away from him as he looks back at you, "Do you want me to ta-"

"No."

"Alright. Don't say I didn't ask."

"I won't be saying anything. Trust me." You roll your eyes, stopping outside of his door as he unlocks it. He pushes it open and you walk in, honestly surprised that it's a nicely kept.

"Well, what do you think?" Sam shuts the door and you nod, "It's nice." Sam smirks, "Thank you."

You walk over to the couch, "So do you want to wor- really."

He looks up from his phone, "Yeah we can work on the project for a little bit."

You stare at him and he looks up, "Don't worry. I'm just texting Colby." You step towards him, "Um. What are you saying exactly."

"Nothing really, just that I have guest over."

"A guest." You roll your eyes, "More like hostage." He laughs and shakes his head, "Here. If you want to read them, go ahead." He tosses you his phone and you catch it, "Sam I do-"

"Read them." He walks over to his fridge, pulling out a beer, "You want one?"

You look up, shaking your head, "No, thanks." You go back to reading his messages between him and Colby and they're surprising not bad at all.

Sam is actually being nice, and not a jerk.

An unsaved number appears at the top and you laugh slightly, turning to him as you read it aloud in a higher pitched tone, "Hey Sam. It's Melina, was wondering if you'd like to take me out on a date yet."

Sam groans, "God she's annoying. Text her back something."

"Me? What do you want me to say." You stare at him and he takes a sip of his drink, "I don't really care, y/n. Just get her off my back."

You chew on the inside of your lip, debating on whether to ruin his life or not, "Okay." Your thumbs tap the screen and Sam walks over, "Whatcha sayin'?"

"Hey Melina, I don't think that's going to work considering I just tested positive for herpes."

His eyes go wide and his hands drop to his sides, "No the fuck you didn't." He leans in, sighing when he sees what you really typed, not going to happen. I'm done dating around. Have a good one.

He lets out a sigh of relief, "She's going to know that that wasn't me." He looks at you and you shrug, "So what? You wanted her off your back right?"

He laughs and nods, "Yeah. I did. Well, looks like you're in charge of texting all the girls that text me."

You roll your eyes, "I have a project to work on."

"Hey, me too. Crazy isn't it?" Sam smiles and you shake your head with a slight laugh, "Yeah. Crazy."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Jesus Christ, Sam." You look up from his phone, "How fucking ma- actually. Don't answer that. I don't need to know."

He looks up from his laptop and shrugs, "Sorry."

You set his phone back down and go back to typing on your computer, "Okay.. so.. I have the date, the location, and who won all on the first three slides. I'll add in.." you look at your notes, "I'll add in the commanders and leaders.."

"I have the casualties and losses along with stuff about the battle itself." He looks up from his notes and you nod, "Sounds good. Maybe we can knock this out in one night and I can go home."

You laugh, but Sam doesn't. He just gives a slight puff of air and nods, "Yeah."

You didn't dwell on it, not really letting yourself because you knew that if you gave in to him in the slightest bit, you'd end up hurt no matter what, so you just went back to typing.

You must have fell asleep while typing because you woke up a few hours later with a blanket on you, and your laptop was on the coffee table.

You slowly sit up, looking around slightly confused because for a split second, you forgot where you were.

You stretch your arms above your head, letting out a yawn before standing up. You turn around and jump when you see Sam sitting at the kitchen table, "shit."

"Oh hey, sorry. I didn't want to wake you and I couldn't sit on my bed anymore. My back was killing me." Sam looks back down at the computer.

You walk to the fridge, grabbing a water. You walk back over standing behind him as you look at his work, "Those look good."

He turns his head slightly to look back at you, "You think?"

You nod, "Yeah. I like how you have the pictures to the sides of the words." You point to the screen, "Wait, how many did you do?"

"I did seven." He leans back in his chair, "is that alright with you?"

You look at him, "That some sort of smartass jab?"

He shrugs, "It wasn't but it can be." He smirks and you roll your eyes, "Yeah, that's fine." You walk back over to the couch, grabbing your bag as you dig for a shirt and shorts, "I'm going to go change."

He nods, eyes focused on his screen. You walk into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror as you slip your shirt off over your head.

You change and exit the bathroom and Sam's eyes are immediately on you, "What? You never seen a girls legs before?" You laugh, "Oh wait."

"Yeah, yeah." He shakes his head with a smirk, "You're lucky you woke up. I forgot about our deal and I was getting ready to see what Felicity was doing."

You felt some sort of jealous twinge, and you honestly wanted to puke. You knew Sam wouldn't last. You just want to stick it out so you could prove him right.

"Nice." You sit back down, back facing him and you hear him get up, "Why are you being so short?"

You shrug, "Maybe because I just woke up. Not everything is about you Sam."

"When did I say it was?" He leans on the back of the couch, "I don't think I did."

You nod, "Right. Right." You turn back to face him slightly, "Good for you, Sam. I'm proud that you didn't text one of your hoes."

"I know that's sarcasm but I'll take it." He taps the back of the couch and walks back over to the table.

You could strangle him, but at the same time, being this close to him, you wanted to just fuck him. Just so you could say you could, but also at the same time, you didn't want to be one of the girls that you ridicule for falling for him.

But you are, you just couldn't admit to it.

"If you want to go back to sleep, you can go sleep in my bed. I'm fine out here." Sam offers and you deny, "I'm fine out here, too."

He chuckles, "Sheets are clean if that's what you're worried about, sweetheart."

"Not what I'm worried about but thanks." You mumble as you type, "Did you put in about- nevermind. Found it."

You can feel him watching you. His eyes are burning holes in the back of your head.

"You okay?" You ask, "I can tell you're staring at me and it's me making me very uncomfortable."

"I beg to differ." Sam shoots back.

You look back at him, "how so?"

He bites his lip and tilts his head, "If you weren't comfortable enough already, I think you would have worn sweats and maybe a sweatshirt.." he takes a deep breath, "Not those.. shorts."

"What's wrong with my shorts?"

He shakes his head, "N-nothing. I didnt- fucking forget it."

You smirk as you turn back around, biting your lip as you know you're now getting under his skin.

Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll just kick you out.

But you found that part of you really didn't want to leave.

"Okay. I think I'm done for the night." Sam closes his laptop and yawns, "I'm going to head to bed since you don't want to take it."

"I'll be fine." You mumble and Sam walks up behind you, "I mean, it is a king size bed so.. feel free to join."

You turn your head, not realizing he was that close. You jerk your head back, "I think I'll survive on the couch."

He shrugs and stands up, "suit yourself." He walks over to the door, turning to face you, "Offer still stands."

"Is this you going through your so called withdrawal? If so, it's incredibly pathetic." You look over at him and he shrugs, "Maybe. Or maybe I just like you. Maybe that was my plan all along."

You roll your eyes, "Mm. Sure it was."

"Oh and here." He tosses you his phone, "In case anyone tries to phone be for a late night booty call."

"Will it happen?"

He nods, "Probably. There's a frat party going on so I'm sure they'll try and summon me." He smirks, "Night."

You nod, "night." You set his phone down on the couch next to you and try to focus on your slides. Sam taking his shirt off catches your attention and you close your eyes, whispering to yourself, "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."

You crack your fingers, sighing as you set your computer on the table, "Fuck." You get up, walking around to behind the couch so you can stretch your back.

Sam's phone dings and you try to ignore it.

It dings again.

And again.

Finally, with a sigh, you bend over the couch, picking it up to read whatever sexual message you'll see this time. They're messages from a Veronica,

Sammm babyyy. Where are you? The party is almost over!

"Yeah.. it's almost four am?" You mumble to yourself as you continue reading.

Sam!!

Sam!! Wake up. I need a ride.. back to your place..

"Desperate much?" You laugh quietly and smirk as your eyes read over the last message.

You're really just going to ignore me?

You bite your lip, glancing over at an already sleeping Sam in his room and back down to the phone. Your heart starts beating faster as your thumbs type the words, Sam's busy, honey. And to be honest, I wouldn't text him again.

You drop his phone down after not giving it another thought with pressing send, honestly slightly embarrassed, "I'll have to remember to delete those." You tell yourself, "Okay." You reach for your laptop, but his phone dings again.

At this point you're too nosey to let it go, and you were kind of having fun with it now. You pick up his phone, smirking when you see it's Veronica.

Who is this?

Seriously.. why are you with Sam? Who are you?

You roll your eyes, reminding yourself that you're to get these girls off his back. He wants to start over and since he worked hard on his half of the project, it's the least you could do, right?

But why?

Your eyes scan over the phone, rereading what you typed out, it doesn't matter who I am. Sam doesn't need you anymore.

You hit send and stare at the phone with the urge to go through it. You shrug, swiping out of the thread and looking at the messages. You're shocked when you see that Sam himself hasn't answered very many messages.

He's left them all on read.

You raise your brows as you take a quiet breath, the hidden folder in his phone will really show who he is. You click on it, surprised he doesn't have any passcode or anything.

You're even more surprised that there's nothing in there. Usually guys like him have nudes of multiple different girls, but Sam doesn't.

You continue to snoop, going through it all and if you didn't know Sam, you'd think that he was actually faithful because there's nothing in his phone.

You shake your head, realizing what you're doing and you swipe out of everything and set his phone down.

You close your lap top, setting it on the table before you lay back down, pretty much forcing yourself to fall back to sleep because the thought of liking Sam only made you mad.

When you wake up, there's a coffee and a bagel sitting next to your computer. You smile slightly and reach out, grabbing the coffee to take a sip.

You grab your phone, seeing you have a text from Sam, Went out for a run. Nothing more I promise.

You laugh slightly, typing back, okay.

You set your phone down, grabbing your computer and opening it. You look over the slide show and shake your head, you were actually surprised Sam is sticking to the deal.

You continue to work on your half, completely in your own little world until you remember you didn't delete those texts you sent back to that girl.

"Oh shit." You freeze, "Fuck." You lay a hand on your forehead, "No, no, no."

You hear the door open and you take a deep breath before turning around, "How was the run?"

Sam nods, "It was good actually. I ran without stopping to talk anyone, which was.. weird actually."

"I'm sure." You laugh slightly, sipping on your coffee. Sam walks over, his grey shirt damp from sweat, "How's the coffee?"

You glance over at him, nodding, "Good. Really good."

"That's good." He chuckles and sighs, "I'm going for a shower." He tosses you his phone down on the couch without another word and walks into the bathroom.

As soon as the door shuts, his phone is in your hands and lo and behold, the messages between you and Victoria are still there, probably very much read by Sam.

You curse yourself mentally, mainly because it makes you sound like you and Sam are together and that isn't what you want.

Then why make it sound like it?

You bite your lip, eyes scanning over the text threads. Your eyes go wide as soon as you see y/f/n, "what the fuck?"

You brace yourself as you go to click on the message thread but you hear the shower turn off and you set his phone down just as the bathroom door opens. You look over and he peaks his head out, "Can you grab me a towel? There's one in the basket in my room."

You nod, getting up and keeping your eyes on his room. You walk in, looking around as you find the basket. You pull the towel from the mound of clothes and walk over to the bathroom, "Here ya go."

He smiles and takes the towel, "Thank you very much."

"Welcome." You walk back over to the couch, pulling your laptop onto your lap and what you dreaded, starts to come to life.

"So.." Sam walks out, towel around his waist and hair dark and messy. You had to fight to keep your eyes off of him, "So." You shift around, clicking on a blank slide.

"I have to thank you."

You look over at him, "For what?"

"Helping me."

"With what?"

He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest, "You know what.. do I really need to explain it to you?"

You tilt your head, smirking slightly, "Yeah, I think you may have to."

He places on hand on the back of the couch, leaning his weight onto it as he sighs, "I wanted to thank you for being so willing to help me."

"Help you with..." you motion your hand for him to keep going and he laughs, "Now you're pushing it." He turns and walk into his room, shutting the door behind him.

You glance down at his phone, shaking your head as you avoid looking through his and y/f/n's text thread.

The door opens back up and he walks out in a pair of shorts, "So did you study for that math final?"

You shake your head, "No I wasn't sure if I could leave or not.." you laugh slightly, "..but you leaving this morning told me I could so I'll probably meet y/f/n later or something."

"Mm." He nods as he walks over to get his coffee, "if that falls through, I'm pretty good with math so."

"Oh you'd help me?" You roll your eye, "I somehow.. don't believe that."

He leans against the counter, "Hit me."

You squint your eyes, "forty five times eight."

He smirks, "Three sixty."

You frown, "That was.. too easy." You sigh and shake your head, "Okay. Sixty six times... fourteen."

He pauses for a moment, closes his eyes as he thinks, "nine... twenty... four." He opens them and smiles at you, "I can do this all day."

"I gotta go." You stand up, grabbing your backpack..

"You're going to leave, wearing that?" Sam asks, eyes moving up and down your body. He chuckles, "Whatever suits your fancy, I guess."

You laugh to cover up how flustered you actually were, "I guess I'm just really worried about this test."

"I can help you. Be your study buddy."

You roll your eyes, digging out a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, "You're not my.. study buddy, Sam."

"Could be a whole lot more if you let me."

He said it quietly, so you didn't think you were supposed to hear, or did you?

"Did you say something?" You turn to look at him and he shakes his head, "No?" You nod, "Okay. Well I'm going to go change.." you point to the bathroom and slowly walk into it.

You close the door and shake your head, thinking to yourself why he would say something like that.

Probably just to get under your skin. Sam doesn't really want you. He's said it himself, he's been in everything but you.

Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but still.

Your phone dings and you look down, "Fuck." You sigh as your friend's message, telling you she can't make it to study.

You reply, alright. Thanks for letting me know.

You open the door after changing and walk out, "Soo.."

"She canceled didn't she?" Sam chuckles and shakes his head, "Should have just said yes in the beginning."

You roll your eyes, wanting to say he probably knew because he's secretly fucking her, but you but your tongue, "Yeah, I guess."

"If you don't want to study with me, you don't have to I lm ju-"

"No. I could use you." You didn't know how your words sounded until Sam makes his remark, "Yeah you could." He smirks and nods his head and you laugh slightly, "No, sa-" you sigh, accepting defeat, "Yeah, I walked right into that one."

"Sure did." He smiles and walks over, grabbing your math book, "What do you need to know?"

I need to know why you're talking to y/f/n, you think as you sit down, "I'm guessing I need to know everything."

"Good thing we have all day then, right?" Sam opens the book, "Okay. So anything from chapter one on?"

You nod, "Yep."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After a few hours of answering the questions Sam comes up with, and catching a few glimpses of him staring at you, you let out a sigh, "Okay. I need to eat. I forgot to eat last night and that bagel, although it was good, it's not enough to hold me over."

Sam closes the book, sighing back, "I totally forgot I was hungry. I got so caught up in this book." He laughs and you smile, "I can't stand that book."

"More than me?" Sam smirks and you laugh, "You know what.. maybe a little bit more than you."

He lays a hand on his chest and sighs, "Wow. That's so nice."

"Shut up. You're working your way back." You laugh and stretch, "So. Late lunch?"

"You mean.." he looks around and back to you, "You want to be seen out in public with me?" He point to himself and you shrug, "I can just go myself and bring it back?"

He stands up, "Let me get a shirt. I'll drive."

You laugh as he gets up, and you grab your laptop, looking over your almost completed final.

"Looks good don't it?" Sam asks walking back out, "we did good."

You nod, "we sure did. I do have to say.. you shocked me, Golbach."

"Why's that?"

You shut your computer and look over at him, "I didn't think you'd do it."

"Have some faith in me, y/n. I know I have a bad reputation, but.." he shrugs, "I don't want to be the campus fuck boy anymore."

You stare at him, a million things running through your mind trying to slip off your tongue.

"What?" He asks, "You don't believe me do you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what?" He crosses his arms and you sigh, "Let's just go get food. I'm getting hangry."

"I can tell." He snickers and you push his shoulder as you walk by him. He lets out an, "Ouch!"

"Please. That didn't hurt." You laugh and look at him, "Do you want it to?"

He shrugs, "I don't know, I might like it." He winks and you shake your head slightly, "Do- no." You laugh and grab your bag, "Come on."

He follows you out the door and down the steps, "Where do you wanna go?"

"I kinda wanna go to McDonald's.. I've been wanting some nuggets." You look at him as you wait for him to unlock the car, "If that's okay with you."

You mentally smacked yourself, why do you suddenly care about what's okay with him and what's not?

"Whatever you want, sweetheart." He unlocks the car and gets in as you do, "I was actually going to say the same thing."

"Yeah?" You buckle up and look at him. He nods, "Yeah, actually." He starts driving and after a minutes, he laughs, "So. I have to ask.."

"Oh god, what?”

He rubs his chin and glances over at you, "How did you come up with the response to Veronica?"

"Oh.. god." You laugh and cover your face, "Can we not.. fuck, I forgot to delete them."

"No, no. Now why would you delete them?" He chuckles, "I thought it was a pretty solid response, y/n."

"It makes it sound like we're together." You roll your eyes and he shrugs, "So what?"

"So what?" You repeat, "I just-"

"You don't want to be labeled a whore. I know." He sounds annoyed and you sigh, "Sam. I didn't-"

"No. Actually, I'm glad I brought this up because I wanted to tell you. I've ever slept with four girls since being here." He looks at you and you chew on your lip, "Really?"

He nods, "you were just going off of what you heard other people talking about." He shrugs, "I'm good looking. People like me. I'm instantly labeled a fuck boy because I like to party and I'm always seen with girls."

"I'm sorry, Sam. I-"

He cuts you off, "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe.. there's someone I want, but they don't want me? Because I can assure you, that that is possible."

You stay quiet and he sighs, "Sorry.. I just.." he runs a hand through his hair and you hesitate but you lay a hand on his shoulder, "No you're fine."

He glances at your hand and sighs before he grabs it, interlocking his fingers with yours.

You're shocked at first, but you let it happen, "Did you sleep with y/f/n?"

He looks at you and laughs, "What?"

"When I was replying to the girls who- wait.. why did you hype yourself up like a fuck boy if you really aren't?"

"We can come back to that. Why do you think I'm sleeping with y/f/n?" He laughs slightly, "Did you not read the messages?"

You shake your head, "No, I didn't."

"Could have." He shrugs, "I was asking her about you."

"Me?" You raise your brows, "Why me?"

He smirks and lifts your hand in his, "This isn't enough of a clue?" He shakes his head, "Maybe I need to spell things out for you."

You smile and sigh, "I just.. I didn't want to do anything I wasn't sure you'd be okay with."

"You swore you hated me. Up and down, side to side. Called me, pretty much a man whore and told me I treat women like objects.. and I'm still here. I'm pretty sure you can hit me with a car and I'll come crawling back."

"Sam." You laugh and he laughs, "I'm serious. Since our sophomore year.. I just thought I'd let you get to know me yourself but.."

You cut him off, "I listened to the rumors in the wind, rather than.. yeah.. sorry."

He shrugs, "I know you don't trust me right off the bat.. I know it's hard but.. why do you think I gave you my whole ass phone."

"Okay.. I did go through it." You look at him and he pretends to be shocked. You laugh, "But that's when I hated you."

"What are you saying? You don't hate me anymore?" Sam smirks and you tilt your head, "Do I have any reason to?"

"Unless you're mad about the four girls, then no." He laughs and you shrug, "You did what you needed to do to get me off your mind."

He sucks air through his teeth, "Yeah, about that."

Your face drops and your heart picks up, oh god, you think, he lied about everything, "what about what?"

"Even when I knew you didn't want me.. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Shut up." You laugh slightly and shake your head. He squeezes your hand, "I'm serious y/n. You may be the boring girl who doesn't party and stays back at her dorm to study instead to some people, but to me.. you're the best kind of girl."

His words make your stomach flutter, "Oh." You laugh slightly, "I thought this was going to be a completely different conversation."

He smiles slightly, "I kept up the act because I wasn't sure how this was going to go and plus.. I like getting you going."

"Really?" You squint at him and shake your head, " I didn't notice."

"Really? Hmm. I gotta step up my game." He laughs and rolls the window down before he starts to order.

You tell him what you want and wait for him to finish.

"Thank you." Sam pulls around and lets go of your hand, "Don't go far." He smirks up at you as he reaches into his shorts to pull out his wallet.

"Do you want me to pay yo-"

"Nope." Sam cuts you off with a smirk and you smile, "Thank you." He nods, "Not a problem at all."

"So.." you pause as he pays, speaking back up when he pulls forward, "Question."

"Answer." He looks over at you and you laugh slightly, "the comment.. you made about rarely bringing girls back to your apartment.."

"Honestly. There was one girl there but she was a girl who came with Colby, so she wasn't even my guest, well I mean she was but she wasn't.. mine? I think." He laughs and you nod, "No, I get it."

He sighs, "Good. You make me nervous."

"I make you nervous?" You laugh slightly and he shrugs, "also why I kept up the show. I couldn't let you know you affect my badass exterior."

You roll your eyes, "Please. I always thought you were an asshole."

He laughs and thanks the person at the window before driving off, "Well, I can be."

"There you go. That's a start." You smirk and he rolls his eyes, "Whatever, let's just get you back so you can fill that pretty little head with knowledge for tomorrow."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·

As you wrap up the studying, you stretch your arms above your head, "I feel pretty good about tomorrow."

Sam nods, "Yeah?"

You nod, "Thank you for helping me."

"Does that mean I'm your official, study buddy?" He winks and you smirk, "Maybe. That depends."

"Depends on what?"

You bite your lip and smile, "On if you're going to make me sleep on this couch again."

Sam scoffs, "The offer to sleep in the bed has been there since yesterday." He stands up, "C'mon." You stand up, taking his hand in yours and follow him into the room.

"No funny business." You joke and he holds his hands up, "Not unless you want there to be." He smirks and you pull the blanket back, sitting out to swing your legs onto the bed, "What a gentleman."

He gets in next to you after slipping his shirt off, "what can I say?"

"You can say, Sam, you are such a good guy, I don't know why I ever listened to the rumors about you. You're also a very good looking guy too." He laughs and you sigh, "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

"I'll take it." He chuckles and lays on his back, arm behind his head as you lay on your side with your back facing him. Your eyes can the wall, mind racing about everything that's happened.

"Sam."

"Y/n."

You bite your lip and roll over to face him. He lays on his side and brushes hair from your face, "What's up?"

"Why didn't you tell me anything sooner?" You look up at him and he shrugs, "Your friend told me to stay away because of the image you had against me."

"But she.." you sigh and shake your head, "Nothing.. goodnight." You go to turn away but his hand on your hip stops you, "What?"

You look back at him, "She told me that I needed to lose my imagine of you and at least I got stuck with you as a partner instead of Nevin."

"She didn't tell you that we texted a few times? Always about you, trust me. You can read them if y-"

You cut him off, "No it's okay. And no.. she didn't tell me."

Sam raises his brows, "Sounds like she's jealous."

"Jealous? Over what?"

"Over me, liking you and not her." Sam smirks, "oh, and because I can do this." He leans in, gently pressing his lips to yours and you freeze.

He pulls away, "Sorry.. too soon?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, "No." you lean back in, pressing your lips to his, "I've actually wanted to see what all the hype was about anyway."

"Doesn't live up to it?" Sam smirks and you sigh, "Yeah, I say it does.”

He smiles, "Alright." His eyes scan over your face and he sighs, "Go to bed."

"You go to bed." You shoot back and he chuckles, "I'll go to bed when you go to bed."

"Fine." You roll over, lying closer to him and he smiles, "Get over here." He lays his arm over your waist and pulls you to him, "you can take my car tomorrow."

"Really?" You bite your lip, "You trust me enough with that thing?" He laughs and nods, resting his chin on your shoulder, "I trust you."

The next morning, you wake up before Sam, anxious about your final. As you're sitting on the edge of the bed, going over problems in your head, you feel a hand gently drag down your back, "You're going to ace this test, y/n."

You look over your shoulder at a still half asleep Sam, "You think?"

"Mhm. I know you will because I helped you study." He smirks and you push him, "I'll thank you when I pass." You smile and get up, checking your phone, "Oh shit. I'm running late."

You quickly get around, pecking Sam on the lips before rushing out the door. You throw your stuff into the car and get in, taking off towards campus.

As soon as you park, you run towards the building and y/f/n stops you, "Whoa, hey y/n. Where the hell have you been?"

You stop and point, "we gotta go. We're going to be late."

She shakes her head, "Professor Fritz postponed it for a half hour. He's running late himself, didn't you check your email?"

You pull your phone out, "No I didn't." You click on the new email that was delivered twenty minutes ago, "Shit. Well. Okay." You sit down on the bench and she sits down next to you, "So you gonna answer my question?"

"About where I've been?" You look over at her and she nods, "uh yeah. That would be the question."

You laugh slightly, "I've been with Sam working on our project."

"You've been with Sam? What do you mean?" She tilts her head and you shrug, "I've been crashing on his couch so we can knock it out as soon as possible, what's the big deal?"

"I just.. the big deal is.. you couldn't stand him three days ago and now you're sleeping on his couch?" She scoffs, "You hate him, y/n."

"What happened to me needing to get over the stupid reason as to why I hate him? You were so hell bent on me being okay with Sam?" You stare at her and she shakes her head, "That's before I knew just how much of an asshole he actually is. You were right."

"Actually. I was wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"Why didn't you tell me that he texted you about me?" You watch as her face goes pale and you can visibly see her stumbling over finding what to say, "I-I don't know.. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I seen the texts, y/f/n, and Sam also told me about them. Why didn't you just tell me that he likes me?" You wait for her to answer, but she doesn't so you sigh, "Look.. I get it."

"Get what?" She snaps and you shrug, "You like Sam. Right?"

"Who wouldn't?" She laughs, "I mean.. yeah. I guess I do, or did. I was just jealous I guess? I don't know." She shakes her head and looks at you, "Wait."

You raise your brows and she points, "Isn't that Sam's car?" She looks from the car to you, "Why are you driving it?"

"He told me I could. He also helped me study when you bailed on me."

"Sorry about that." She sighs, "I'm sorry about not telling you about Sam.. I guess I just let my jealousy of him wanting you instead get to me."

You thought for a moment, debating on whether or not you felt her apology was genuine, "I just.. I wouldn't have done that to you."

"No I know. And I knew that I just.. I'm sorry."

You see the doors open up and you stand up, "I gotta go." You turn, walking towards the now open doors.

During the test, Sam was heavy on your mind.

How he looked while helping you study for these questions.

His smile when you got one right.

His eyes, how they watched you as you thought about your answers.

The way his hands felt on your body when he held you all night long.

You blinked, taking a deep breath as you went back to trying to focus on your test, but it was hard. The fact that Sam really wasn't the popular fuckboy you thought he was all because he was too scared to be rejected by you, makes you really want him more.

"Thirty minutes."

You sighed quietly at the professors warning and made yourself crack down on finishing this final.

Once time was up and tests were collected, the professor stands up from his desk, "You should all know whether you passed or failed within an hour. You're dismissed."

You grab your bag, digging out Sam's keys before getting up. Y/f/n stops in front of you, "Hey wait."

"I gotta get back. I still have to finish my other final." You look up at her and she sighs, "How can I make this up to you?"

You shrug, "When I think of it, I'll let you know."

And with that, you head out to the car, making your way back to Sam's apartment. You never thought y/f/n would do something like this.

It honestly felt like a stab in the back and you didn't know how to feel other than mad.

You make your way inside and open the door. Sam looks at you from the couch, "Hey. How'd it go?"

You smirk slightly as you shut the door, "The part where I tested or the part where I called y/f/n out on being a backstabbing friend?"

He switches the tv off and raises his eyebrows, "You really called her out?"

You nod, "She said that she was jealous over you wanting me instead."

"She wanted me?" He laughs slightly, "Ah. I see."

You walk over and sit down next to him, "Yeah. She said she let her jealous rage come between us. She apologized and then asked how she can make it up to me.."

"What did you say?" Sam reaches over and twirls a piece of your hair. You sigh, "I told her when I think of something I'd let her know and then I left."

He shakes his head, "She messed up."

You nod, "She sure did. I actually kinda like you."

"Kinda? Yikes, okay." Sam laughs and you smile, "you're not so bad after all. I just don't understand why she would tell me I need to get over it if she was keeping how you felt away from me." You shake your head, "I don't know. She should have known the truth was going to come out sooner or later."

"Glad it was sooner." Sam smiles and pulls you to him, "Gimme a kiss."

You peck his lips and he shakes his head, "Um no. I said a kiss." He smiles as you smile and you lay your hand on his cheek as your lips gently move with his.

You lean back, "How was that?"

He shrugs, "It was kinda alright." He smirks and you push his shoulder, "Rude."

He laughs and brushes your arm, "It was amazing."

You smile and look down as your phone goes off, "Oh. That's so early." You look up at Sam and reach for your laptop, "My test results are in."

You click into your email and take a deep breath, "Okay." You wait for it to load and Sam moves over next to you, watching at the circle spins around and around, "I hate that it takes forever."

You nod, "Yeah, me too." You nervously chew on your nail and shove your computer into Sam's lap, "I can't look."

"Okay. I gotcha. Hang on." He lays a hand on your knee, "Still loa- oh. Okay. Here we go." His eyes move down over the screen and you hold your breath, waiting for him to deliver the news.

He looks up at you and a slow smile grows on his face, "You passed."

"I-I.. passed?" You ask in disbelief. He turns the laptop around and nods, "You sure did."

Without any hesitation, you lean forward, crashing your lips into his.

And it's an instant heat.

He moves the laptop, pulling you onto his lap fully, "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kissing you. You lean back slightly, "i guess I just really want to know what you're like in bed."

He chuckles and nods, "Yeah?"

"Do you not want to?" You go to move off of him but he stops you, grinding his hips up and he watches as your lips part, "I didn't say I didn't want to."

His hand slides to the back of your neck and pulls you down, closing the space between you. He swings you over, laying you down as his body moves on top of yours.

Your legs wrap around his waist and your hand runs through his hair, "Please." You whimper quietly as he kisses down your neck, "Sam."

"Please Sam what, baby?" He leans up, smirking down at you. You pout, "You know what."

He leans up, biting his lip as he undoes your pants and your hips raise as he pulls them down, throwing them onto the floor before he takes off his own shirt and works his shorts down.

Your eyes scan up and down his body as he's a lot hotter than you thought.

"Like what you see?"

You blink a few times, breaking the stare from his torso as you look up at him with a slight laugh, "Yeah actually. I do."

You sit up, taking off your shirt before laying back. Sam's brow twitches and he sighs, "Yeah, I like what I'm seeing too."

He leans down, cock pushing against your panty covered pussy and you whine, "Sam.. please." You look at him, "Fuck me."

He hooks his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them down, quickly discarding his boxers and his body is quick to hover above yours.

All of the hateful things you thought about Sam are gone, right in this moment.

It was just you and him.

He was all you needed.

He slowly pushes his cock into you and lets out a groan that mixes perfectly with your moan, “Sam.”

His hand grips your outer thigh as it wraps around his waist and he leans down to kiss you. You rest a hand on his cheek, “You feel so good.”

He smiles against your lips, “You feel even better.” He starts to slowly pull out and thrust back in, groaning as his pace builds up.

You clench around him, moaning and gasping as you feel so close to breaking, “S-so close.”

“You can do it, come on baby.” He kisses your neck, biting and nipping, “Cum for me.”

You wrap an arm around his neck, clinging to him as your body tenses and twitches, “Fuck. Fuck. F-fu-“ you moan loudly, digging your nails into his back and dragging up.

He groans as the pain from your nails almost sends him right along with you.

“Fucking hell, y/n.” He roughly kisses you as he fucks you through your high, “I-I’m go-“ he moans into your mouth, gasping as his thrusts grow sloppy, “Shit.”

He pulls out and you feel him spill over your stomach. You cup his cheeks, kissing him as he relaxes.

He leans up, looking down at his mess on you and he sighs, "You look so fucking hot like this." His hand drags down your thigh and you bite your lip, "I don't have any plans."

"I'm taking that as a challenge." He chuckles and you shrug, "Take it however just as long as we're naked in that bed."

"Come on." He grabs your hand and pulls you up, "Well clean up later." He winks and drags you into his bedroom, shutting the door with a slam.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

I just want to give a huge thank you for all the patience. December has NOT been easy for me whatsoever, but the constant support and nice messages mean the absolute world to me. So I thank each and every one of you for that. <3

Likes and reblogs are appreciated

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