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prkhaven · 27 days ago

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PASS THE SOUR PATCHES -p.js, p.sh-

They don't want to talk it out, they much rather fuck it out

pairing— gym rat!jay x fem!reader x gym rat!sunghoon

genre: smut minors do not interact, gym rat jayhoon au, p with no plot

wc: 7.1k

warnings: profanity, hidden rivalry, kissing, mention of sweat, set in the gym, they’re strangers (be careful, don’t do it with strangers), mention of candy 'sour patch kids'

smut warnings: filthy, unprotected sex (wrap it), p in v, semi-public, slight degradation, praising, dirty talk, headlocks, biting, fingering, oral (f rec.), orgasm denial, overstimulation, creampies, dom!jay, dom!sunghoon, usage of nicknames (baby, princess, good girl)

You were thankful for your friend, really you were. You had to consider how she managed to get you up from your bed and into the gym like how you always wanted to.

What you weren’t thankful for was the fact that on your first day of ever working out in your life, she threw you into a packed full gym filled with nothing but pure muscle heads.

Your face scrunched as you followed closely behind her. The sweat splotches on the ground from sweat falling to the ground, phones scattered next to machines and benches, spilled drinks and suspicious white powder you would like to assume to be pre work.

“I thought we would start off easy and do pilates at home or at least something else” You gritted through a strained smile causing her scoff in response

“You said you wanted the gym, well here it is” Her arms extended out to show you what is in front of you. Tacky gym music no one paid attention to, the loud grunts and groans mixed with the sounds of iron clanking on iron

Just your dream.

You rolled your eyes but nevertheless copied her actions when she threw her bag onto a bench that was suddenly freed, “You have to be quick or else you’ll be here for hours” She stretched her arms outwards to the opposite direction from what she did a few seconds ago

“Let’s go? Start stretching” She shook her stretched arm for your to follow her lead, you stretched your arm over your chest and hooked under your elbow like how she was doing

“What are we working out today?” You asked noticing how she started stretching her whole body and you tried to keep up with her with haste

“Arms, I haven’t hit them in a while” She hummed but before you could reply, a deep voice responded for you

“Yeah, we could tell” The deep voice chuckled causing the hair at the back of neck to rise and a chill to run up your spine

You looked over your shoulder to see two males—very attractive at that. Hair clinging to their foreheads, sleeveless shirts that clung to their sculptured body that seeped out through the clear wet patches to the skin and sweatpants that loosely hugged to their lower half.

Your eyes jumped between the both of them, their jawlines splitting your mind into half as you took in both of their appearance. Sharp piercing gaze but half heartedly grins plastered on their face.

Their arms at their sides, their biceps pulsing from the bulge that your fingers wrinkled into your palm to form a fist, an itch suddenly taking over you instantly.

From the moment of stepping into the gym, nobody caught your attention the way these two did. But surely there was a reason why your heart was running laps at the mere sight of them.

“If it isn’t Jay and Sunghoon” Your friend heavily sighed with fake enthusiasm, “The dynamic duo” She rolled her eyes to you almost as if in disbelief that they were going up to her right now

Your face morphed into confusion when the attention was suddenly pinned onto you. Unconsciously your thighs squished together as you froze up only able to awkwardly chuckle and shrug your shoulders unsure of how to respond in the moment.

Noticing your swift body reaction to the reaction towards the sudden attention, one of them chuckled softly to himself allowing his eyes to wander over you, the corners of his mouth tugging up higher.

“Who’s this? Newcomer?” The one with a butterfly birthmark spoke up as he shifted his body towards you making you gulp down the sudden dryness in your throat

“Don’t tell me she’s going to be learning from you?” The other male beside him laughed loudly before draping an arm over his friend’s shoulder

“What is that supposed to mean?!” You friend screeched making the both males chuckle at the reaction they received

“Please to meet you, my name is Jay” The one with the birthmark ignored your friend and solely focused on you

Your gaze turned to the one beside him. His lips were dragged into a frown but replaced with a faint smile as he offered the hand on the shoulder, “Sunghoon” He simply introduced himself, pushing himself off Jay to land beside him

Sunghoon looked away from you for a second to look back at your friend, “Well for one you only hit legs. Second, you use sour patch kids as a pre instead of actually buying one that’s worth it” He deadpanned over at you with a raise of the prominent brows as if it was common knowledge

“They aren’t bad” You awkwardly mumbled a response which perked everyone’s interest

“Oh yeah? You like sour stuff?” Sunghoon crossed his arms over his chest, the top of the pecs pressing out of his chest and his hands slotting around perfectly at his folding biceps

You fumbled over a proper thought process but your body had a mind of its own when you reached for your improper packed bag and out came a pack of said sour gummy candy. Jay and Sunghoon shot a look at each other, disbelief written over their face when you extended out the bag to them.

“Don’t knock it until you try it” You spoke when Jay was quicker than Sunghoon and grabbed the bag before him and exclaimed the enclosed candy, a faint smile growing on his face

Jay looked at you with shaking the candy at hand, “Well I have-” He was nudged harshly at his side by Sunghoon causing him to drop the bag right into Sunghoon’s awaiting hand for it

The slight crunch from the grab, “What he meant to say is that we have plenty now to try it out” He waved the bag with a faint smirk

Your reply was lost when your friend spoke up for you instead, wishing to get rid of these two as quickly as possible.“Maybe you should hit some legs!” She snapped before grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the two males, “Now leave us alone and go work out somewhere”

Sunghoon raised his arms up in defense, “Didn’t mean to offend you” He whistled, sneaking a glance over at you. His eyes raked over your figure, his smirk growing by the second

“Let me know when you want to really work out princess” He sent a wink towards you making you take a step back in shock at the wording but a burn formed in the pit of your stomach at the thought

“What he means is good luck, have a good work out you two” Jay stepped in and sent a smile, different from the one Sunghoon gave but still managed to send a thrill in and out of your body from the quick introduction

You swallowed down through your dry throat, lightly coughing from the lack of hydration, the scratchy feel in your throat worsening now that they were walking away. Your friend notice and patted at your back harshly, knocking all the wind out of you, “Ignore them” She sneered repeating her harsh motions

You weren’t sure what her deal was with those two but you didn’t feel being on the receiving end of her wrath because of them any longer.

Taking a large step away from her, your coughing became louder while you patted at your chest, “Oh shit- I’m sorry. Go get some water” She ushered you away before you could gather your thoughts or breath

Stumbling over your feet, you sucked in a breath only to realize that you had no idea where the water fountain was. Gulping down in a pant as your mouth dropped trying to scan around for it and with no luck all you saw were the seas of people working out.

Taking a step back without looking behind, you ran into someone but thankfully the strong hold stabilized you before you could fall over completely. “Oh my god, I am so sorry!” You repeated your apology

Until it came to an abrupt stop when you were turned around and faced the two familiar faces you saw not even 10 minutes ago. Jay being the one that caught you while Sunghoon was close behind.

Something must’ve shown on your face because Sunghoon was the first to laugh before wiping the sweat off his chin with the collar of his damped shirt. The unclench from the shirt and his printed chest made you lightly frowned but shook your head at the thought.

“You alright there?” Jay worriedly looked at you that you nearly forgot you were at the gym but with the suddenly slam of a barbell meeting iron holding, you were quickly snapped out of

“Uh yeah sorry for bumping into you” You jumbled out but ended up hiccuping right at the end making your cheeks burn in embarrassment

“Got a case of the nervous hiccups?” Sunghoon was now closer than how he was before and you looked at him with widened eyes as you let out another strained hiccup

You folded your lips to contain the jumps of breath getting caught in your throat but failed when they slipped out after a few seconds. Jay chuckled before pulling back his hands to point behind you.

Following the guidance, you see the unoccupied water fountain right next to the changing rooms. “I’m assuming you didn’t bring any water right?”

You smiled quickly and nodded your head, “Rookie mistake” You heard Sunghoon sneer in the distance

Both you and Jay look at his folded arms across his chest with no expression on his face, “What? I’m just saying the truth” He huffed but rolled his eyes when you hiccuped yet again

You saw the annoyance written on his face and decided to not waste their time any longer. Mumbling a quick ‘Thank you’ to them, you turned a heel and attempted to walk through the crowded place

Blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes watching as you struggled to get through the packed machines and the light jumps you had whenever slammed the weights down.

Jay scanned around the room wondering just where your friend was after leaving you to fend for yourself through the gym rats, only to find her sitting on the bench talking to a surrounding group of people, completely unaware of your distress.

He sighed and was going to make her attention on you but he snapped his head when Sunghoon suddenly spoke with a frustrated tone, “I’m done”

Sunghoon marched up to you where you got caught up in a zumba class happening in the middle of the gym. You were really clueless when it came to this atmosphere.

As you waited for the dancing people to hopefully move out of the way when you were suddenly moved from where you were standing, “Come on. We’re getting you to drink some water” Sunghoon grasped your arm to guide you through the crowds

You looked over at him with wide eyes but your body fell limp into his movements as he guided you towards the nearing water fountain. The sharp degree of his jaw caught your eyes with the scattered moles across his face that made you wonder if there were any anywhere else.

But that disappeared as quickly as it came when his soft grasp let go of your arm, “Here” He grumbled as you see the long awaited fountain in front of you

“Thank-” You cut yourself off with a hiccup making him groan and point towards the the water source attached to the wall

Not wasting a second, you dipped your head down and the water flowed out, allowing you to drink from it.

There were motion detecting water fountains now?

You were surpised but waved it off as the new advancement of techonology that was ocurring.

Jay, who was left behind, finally caught up only to be surprised to see Sunghoon pressing down on the push button on the side of the water fountain for the water to ooze out as you drank.

He knitted his eyebrows together as he saw how Sunghoon watched how your lips pressed together, gulping down the water—licking his lips while leaning up against the wall until you pulled away with a satisfied sigh and his fingers let go to cut the water.

You remained still for a moment waiting to see if they actually disappeared but ripping out a loud scream when you were scared from behind. Your sound was drowned out by the loud songs playing in the background as you turned around to see Jay cheekily smiling.

“They say scaring can help get rid of hiccups. I just wanted to make sure they were fully gone” Sunghoon glared at Jay’s innocent smile as he spoke to you

Sunghoon knew his friend and could pick up on the familiar shimmer in Jay’s eyes as he looked at you. Unable to hold back his expression, his lips tugged downwards, “So they’re gone princess?”

With his sudden interjection, you looked away from Jay to Sunghoon who pushed himself off the wall to stand beside you. You were oblivious to the glare Jay sent towards his friend but froze up when the mischievous smile spread across Sunghoon’s face.

He knew that look anymore and what it meant. He scoffed in disbelief as he shook his head at Sunghoon’s specific gaze he looked at you with.

Should’ve known better that it wouldn’t have been that easy.

Your heart jittered in your chest from the piercing coming from the two males, “Yeah, they’re gone” The cheerful of relief made them smile but while Jay wanted to continue the conversation, Sunghoon had other plans

“Say, why don’t you properly warm up with us while we cool down?”

[|━|]

The harmless invitation was meant to be legit on Jay’s part. While on Sunghoon’s side, he knew exactly what he was doing when inviting you to join them for simple stretching exercises.

But instead, the three of you were cramped into the last dressing room, your head lull to the side while your body was pressed up against the cold wall. Your mind is dizzy only able to focus on Jay kissing you, holding you by the side of your neck whilst Sunghoon focused on your neck, holding you up from your body.

Your arms sprawled and opened and rested on whatever shoulder was provided for support, presenting your body to them without much issue.

You could feel their smirks pressed against your skin and you tried to ignore it but when they started to nip at your skin, it brought your attention back to them. “Focus on us pretty girl” Sunghoon sucked at your neck softly

Jay drank up the noises spilling from your mouth into his own as he softly chuckled and stroked your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “We got you” He pecked at your lips in a slow manner

You melted with the warmth of the both of them however it was ripped away when your shirt was pushed up and Sunghoon’s cold hand traced against your skin. Eyes flickering down, you see Sunghoon sinking to his knees fully, not looking away from you once.

He smirked up at you before planting a soft kiss against the expose skin of your stomach, “So good to me” He hummed when he trailed up but he was suddenly pushed down by Jay’s hand on top of his head

Sunghoon scowled and yanked his head away to see Jay pushing him out and slotting his body in front of you as he went to kiss you silly. Your arms wrapped around his neck and held him tightly against you.

Jay slotted a leg right in between yours for support, your hands tangling into his while he molded his mouth to perfectly yours but he lost momentum when he was roughly pushed out of the way.

Being ripped away from you wasn’t ideal. He sucked in a breath to make up for the lack of oxygen to find Sunghoon filling his spot instantly. His arms hooked under yours to claw into his shoulder blades, to feel the muscles contracting with each move.

Your hands ruffled into the back of his head pulling him more to the side as he messily kissed you. Teeth clashing together and nipping at your bottom lip before releasing it to engulf your mouth with his hand softly grasping your neck.

“I’m better, aren’t I? Taking way better care of you than he is” It was a statement rather more than an actual question for you

You weren’t able to respond due to the lack of use of your mouth but it was enough for a weak moan to slip by in some form of response to him.

Suddenly, you felt the ghost of your hands in your waistband. Cracking open your eyes just enough to peer down at the hovering source, you see Jay on one knee, his hands feathering around your waist as he looks up at you, a silent plea as he waits for your response.

You smiled against Sunghoon’s moving lips, your eyes fluttering closed as you offered your hips a little further out until his retracted hands touched the start of your pants.

Jay smiled softly before hooking his hand at the elastic for a second before bringing down all the jumbled material he could. “Good girl baby” He whispered which was more than loud enough for you to hear

“Like our form of warming up?” Sunghoon muttered against your lips but your pliant body resting upon his which would’ve been more than enough to be his answer if he were Jay

But news flash. He wasn’t.

Sunghoon gripped your chin and pulled away, your lips chasing hers with closed eyes. He smiled at the scene before stroking at your chin making you open your eyes, “Tell me princess. I don’t like being kept in the dark” He cooed sternly

Your eyes looked ahead, too focused on the fact how he beamed at you like you held the answer to all his problems. Well maybe you did house the solution to one of his growing problems.

“Yes” You slurred your words together, “I love it”

He chuckled at the delirious state you were in, stroking softly at your cheek before bringing his hand down to cup your neck, “Yeah? Love the idea of getting fucked here?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow

But when you were going to respond, you gasped loudly when a heavy breath fluttered at your glistening self and a wet stride from your hole all the way up to your tingling clit.

“Taste so sweet baby” Jay mumbled into your folds, his hand reaching under your leg to hook it over his shoulder for better access

Your body was pressed harder against the wall as you were pushed up, a cold hand running under your shirt and over your stomach to only rise higher and grip harshly at your breast. “Cute. Look at you actually wearing a bra to the gym” Sunghoon darkly chuckled as the tips of his finger traced over the strap

“Am I not supposed to?” You loudly gasped at the protruding tongue into your fluttering hole, Jay smirked wildly as his fingers dug into the plush of your thighs

A hand flew over your mouth “Shhhh princess, can’t be making so much noise” Sunghoon tooted his tongue to the roof of his mouth

You melted into his hand the more Jay lapped at your cunt. Hand weakly gripping onto his short hair and tugging at it the more he devoured you like a starving man. His fingers dug into your hips harder the more your concealed noises slipped by.

“How does he make you feel?” Sunghoon whispered roughly into your ear as he grasped at your chin to keep it up, “Make you feel good?”

You peered through your eyes down to see Jay already looking up at you, his jaw locked open awaiting your response. When you nodded, he pulled away from your slicked entrance. A string that marked sinfulness in the changing room connecting his swollen lips to yours.

His eyes sparkled with a certain ambition to them, his hand at your hip unconsciously flexed deeper into the plush making you let out a whine with your hands chasing to the back of his head to bring him back.

Sunghoon, who was watching everything, pulled his hand away and smirked as you were panting heavily. You snapped a glare towards him but he merely raised his arms up in defense.

“I asked” He mouth reached the crevice of your ear, his gripping hand slid down past your body, his fingers pinching through the fabric of your undergarment with an evident smirk before slipping through to your stomach until he reached your pelvis, “Does he make you feel good?” His fingers circled at your clit causing your lips to shiver

“Or would you prefer me?” Sunghoon’s fingers slipped further between your folds, the arousal leaking onto his fingers and palm until it reached the twitching dip

Your wavering eyes looked between Sunghoon and Jay, both looking at you with a very amiable expression that made your insides twist. But deep down you knew, one wouldn’t be enough. You need both.

Letting out a shaky breath you weakly grasped at Sunghoon’s wrist and slipped two fingers past your gummy walls that accepted him. He groaned at the fit around his fingers, he hastily looked at you with shock but it was replaced when you softly stroked Jay’s head and brought him back to your pussy.

Both males snuck a gleam towards each other before focusing on their respective roles in your pleasure. Sunghoon pushed your body off the wall before pressing your back to his chest with a deep chuckle rumbling into your mind.

The muscles of his chest pressed harshly against you and a rather hard poke onto your body that you swore you felt a light twitch but unable to focus on that thought any longer when he pushed his fingers knuckles deep into you. Jay connected his mouth onto your swollen clit with a laugh at your loud gasp.

“C’mon baby you have to be quiet for us” Jay managed to speak out through ever suck onto the bundle of nerves in a haste manner

His tongue lathered around with each pull at his hair that you gave. Eyes screwed shut as your breathing became ragged, focusing on the baring teeths picking at the bud while the fingers that plumped in and out of you.

Sunghoon curled his fingers in the depths of you, the wet heat that surrounded his fingers slipped his hand full of your arousal. The loud squelch coming from the contact had no chance of disguised. While Jay’s mouth collected the fallen essence of you that slipped through.

“W-Wait” You weakly told at the sensation growing in the pit of your stomach grew larger by the second

You could feel the smirk against your skin from the side of your face to all the way down below. “I can feel it. Tightening around me like to keep me buried in you” Sunghoon snickered before stopping his fingers at knuckle length

Nipping at your bottom lip to conceal your shaky breath when he slowly opens the closed fingers to spread the hollowness of you. Your hand tightly gripped his wrist in a poor attempt but when Jay’s hand placed over your weak hold and you looked at him with wide eyes.

He pulled away, the bottom half of his face smeared of you. Glistening under the harsh white light from above but it accentuated his profile, of his sharp high nose bridge that smudged with wetness at the tip and the loopy smile on his face and sweat accumulating at his forehead.

But his soon loopy smile turned into a grin when your face morphed into a slack jaw and rolled back eyes when he guided Sunghoon’s hand out of you. The tip of his fingers left inside with a small wiggle of them before being shoved back into you.

“We have to prep you baby. Don’t wanna hurt you” Jay slurred his speech but it went through one ear and out the other as you solely focused on the movements Jay guided through Sunghoon’s fingers

With each thrust into you each time Sunghoon curled his fingers up to feel the pressure surrounding him. He could feel how you spasmed around his fingers, a clear indication of you nearing your climax.

He looked at Jay to see the starstruck expression he had on as he watched you pant, trying to keep quiet to not draw attention. His own smirk slightly faltered, he looked down to your soaping self.

He watched how Jay slowly pulled and pushed his fingers to get you off. While he didn’t mind it necessarily, there was a tightening feeling in his chest. Sunghoon looked up when you threw your head back onto his shoulders, weak moans leaving your swollen lips and it was a sight to see.

In a rushed manner, he ripped his fingers away from you right when he felt the tight grip holding him in place. You let out guttural pained breath and quietly whined as you lifted your head off his shoulder and when you were going to face him, he pushed your front to the wall.

Hoisting yourself up with your arms for support, you peer over to see the unexplained flash in his eyes as he watches your exposed lower half. Nervously gulping you attempted to shift into another position but he stopped you with a hand on your lower back.

“I need you” His pleading eyes looked up to catch yours and quickly nodding your head without much thought and expecting a sudden smirk, you were met with a soft smile from Sunghoon

A thump fluttered in your chest but your wandering eyes landed when you saw him fiddling with the waistband of his pants. You gulped at the evident imprint inside of them when he pulled down everything in a haste. His leaking tip smacked against his stomach and he saw how your eyes widened at the sight.

“Think you can take it princess?” He hummed darkly as he inched closer to you, the heat radiating off his body onto your back as hands ghosted around your hips until he slightly pushed them out for him,“I think you can” He poorly laughed, his calloused hands gripped your body, his thumb creasing at your side until the feel of one of them disappeared

Moving your eyes away from Sunghoon, you spotted Jay taking a seat in the far too small bench provided. He folded his arms over his chest, a mischievous hand gesturing as if ordering a silent command. Your eyebrows knitted but all thoughts were wiped out when your leg was hiked up and a stretch pulled your wet wall apart.

A loud gasp slipped past and your hands grabbed around air as your forehead pressed against the cold wall with a heavy breath. Sunghoon hissed at the welcoming warmth that engulfed his aching cock. “Absolutely perfect. You feel so good” He panted as he pushed himself deeper

“B-Big” You cry, prompting an egotistical laugh from Sunghoon, he snuck a glance back at his friend who took a seat on the unoccupied chair with a hard look he knew too well

Jay is annoyed.

Sunghoon smirked at himself, turning his attention back to you before thrusting up to a hilt as he stuffed you full in one go. He groaned louder than anticipated when the confinement you provided him squeezed him tighter, “Taking me so well princess” He messily planted kisses towards the side of your face

He watched how you clawed at the wall in need, weak breaths shuddering out and unable to hold back the chuckle that slipped by, you shot him a glare but your face dropped when the warmth disappeared from inside, his tip being the only inch left behind before slamming his hips upwards and back into your velvet walls.

“Sunghoon” You body pressed further up as you weakly called out to him in a gasp

His hand gripping your waist applied pressure onto your stomach as he settled on a pace for his thrust, “You sound beautiful” He murmured in the shell of your ears, “Hate to know that I’m not the only one that can hear you” His words brought clarity to your mind for a second

The sound of the lewd wetness meeting each other, the obscene noises from your throat and leaving past your swollen lips, his low grunts. However, that thought washed away when your head fell forward, all rationality was thrown out as you focused on how Sunghoon was making you feel.

In your mind, there was no else besides you or him. Your mouth agape the more his hips met with your back in perfect calculation of his cock ramming in and out of you with a desperate need that showed every so often with a slip of an uneven shove into your pussy.

You could feel the hard gaze shot your way and you knew it to be Jay but unable to lift your head, you only arched your back further, your arms burning from holding yourself up.

Yet, your neck was suddenly craned up with a squish at your throat. “Already getting tired?” Sunghoon’s biceps wrapped at your neck, the evident pumped bulge hosting your head up. The grip at your hip pulled further down to arch it impossibly more for him before he wrapped his arm across your chest, while the other held your neck.

Flushing your body closer to his chest, his biceps cranking each speck of oxygen that slipped out of you with each moan, your pitiful wails growing in desperation as he continued his ruthless attempts of molding your pussy just for him.

A dark laugh left his mouth when he heard your moans stringing along whimpers of his names. “Feel good princess?” You could feel the smugness overflowing from him but when he flexed more for you to feel the pressure pressing harder into your throat

Left to respond with the only words running through your mind, you clawed at his bicep,“Hoon- Sunghoon” A silent hiss passed his mouth at the scratches left in their wake by you but instead it only fueled the carnal need even more of you

Your teeth weakly clamped on the bulging flesh that reached close to your mouth. Tears brimmed at your eyes, the muffled noises made him frustrated that he couldn’t hear you, but the sight of your current state, so distraught in pleasure. Sunghoon’s flipped in his chest.

The lack of proper air flow, your mouth filled with the flesh of the pumped muscle, your hands grasping to any form of flesh from Sunghoon as support, and the dizzying feel in your head the more his hold around your neck grew tighter

His raging tip kissed your insides, each poke into the squishy walls sent you over the edge. The sound of skin smacking on skin filled the cramped room but space grew available as you and Sunghoon’s body melted into one,“Let him how good I’m making you feel”

Sunghoon gritted through his teeth,“Let Jay over there know who's making you feel this good” He urged your head up to look over to the male that the moment you caught glimpse of

Jay’s head hung to the side, his legs spread open as his hand ran over the enlarged hard on against his sweats while his eyes never looked away from the scene in front of him–of you taking Sunghoon so well.

“Fuck you just got tighter- You like that? Being watched as you get fucked?” You rapidly nodded your head and showed a loopy when he knocked your head back to his shoulder, the tip of his biceps pressuring your throat while he grinned widely at you

“Come for me princess” Sunghoon’s voice lulled straight into your ear, “Let go for me” Sunghoon’s hand pressed harder against your stomach making you loudly squeal, no longer caring of holding back when the warming feeling was erupting in your stomach

Sunghoon’s thrust got messier and arrhythmic, faint twitches inside of you while his cock slid past your gummy walls. The pull against your skin became unnerving, lighting your body on fire in your body that only edged him further. Your hands reached up to grip his biceps with each of his slam against your hips without much care.

When you clenched tightly around him followed by a pitched whine, Sunghoon stilled his hips roughly into you with a guttural groan. He secured his grip around you in an attempt to flush your body even closer to his. The warmth of his cum spilled into your red pinkish spamasing walls, painting them white of him. “Knew you could take me” He chuckled before inching out his cock from you

You loudly sucked in a breath when his hand roughly grabbed at your skin and spread your cheek to the side in order to grasp the sight of your and his cum mixed together and sliding down to your thigh. He smirked at his work but he was brushed off to the side and stumbling over his feet. Snapping his gaze up, he saw Jay’s stoic expression, “Time’s up” Jay spoke before bringing his attention to your heaving self

His eyes narrowed on the sight of the white trail on your thigh. He looked up to see your pleading eyes peering from over your shoulder causing a laugh to come from him. You frowned at the mockery sound but your scowl faltered when you flipped onto your back against the wall.

The sweet smile and shining eyes caught your main focus, different from how Sunghoon was even though you managed to catch the said male in the corner of your eye sitting in the same spot Jay was just sitting on. “Let’s be honest Jay, you won’t be able to fuck her better than me” Sunghoon sneered through a smug grin, resting on his extended arms behind him

His friend chose to ignore the obvious instigation even though something stuck inside of him and rumbled the held down urge to the surface, Jay’s calloused hands held your jaw, his thumb creased over your cheek, his loving smile never moving from his face, “Why don’t we show him mhm?”

Your even breathing was suddenly cut off when his fingers glided across your bare legs before the tips of his fingers traced at the leaking smudge, collecting everything onto his fingers, raising the white covered fingers to hover your mouth. His thumb creased at your chin and pulled down on the muscle to crack open your mouth just enough to slip his two fingers into your wet mouth. You visibly cringed at the bitterness on your tongue and he lightly chuckled at your sour expression. “I thought you liked sour stuff?”

Your hard gaze flared at him which only caused him to slide his fingers further down your mouth and into your throat, “What was that? Can you do what you just did again?” He raised an eyebrow

The restriction of your throat around his fingers from your throat made him slowly hum, “Bet you can take stuff well in the pretty mouth of yours” Jay twirled his fingers around as his dazed eyes looked from your pursed lips to your wavering eyes

“You don’t actually think he can fuck you better than me, do you?” He asked as he pulled his fingers from your mouth with a loud pop that rung out

The questioned posed an underlying unease, you knew he wanted you to agree to spite Sunghoon, you decided to test your limits instead

Peering over to your side to see Sunghoon’s narrowed eyes awaiting for your answer, the corner of your mouth inched upwards and his thin lips formed into a rising smirk, “Don’t know, he did pretty well” You weakly shrugged your shoulders before looking back at Jay

Jay huffed a scoff at your reply with a weak shake of his head, his gripped at your chin to keep your gaze on him, “Let’s find out then” It wasn’t a question but rather a statement that shivered goosebumps across your body

Maintaining eye contact with him as he fumbled with his pants with a hurried pace. Forcing your gaze to stay up and not to drop when you heard the wet splat against his skin, your jaw clenched when his hand tapped at your thigh to lift it up, “Take a deep breath for me baby” He groaned when he dipped closer to your ear

You opened to rebuke at his remark but a strained sound ripped out of you as you felt the pull that parted your folds as he slid his cock in. Your hands flew to his shoulders but it slipped to his broad back in a weak attempt for support, “Ooh, what happened baby?” His tone feigned innocence when he slammed himself deeper into you

Your fingers dug straight into his shoulder blades with a ripped out moan as you were filled in by the inches, he hissed against your neck at your infliction of holding onto him, “L-Look shit- You’re struggling take me. All that talk for what?”

Jay felt the warm confinement adjusting to the new stretch you were given in the past 10 minutes after Sunghoon but his heart swelled as he watched your face contort into all kinds of different expressions. Your mouth hanging open as silent noises fell out, your eyes screwed shut and your hands gripped to his back muscles that moved with each shift.

“Ja-Jay” Broken wanton pleas filled his ears when he pressed himself further into your pussy clenching around his shaft, keeping him in place when he tried to pull away anymore that wasn’t to your satisfaction

“What’s wrong baby?” He strung his words together to form a coherent sentence that slurred roughly in your mind, “Too much for you?”

He weakly chuckled when you failed to respond the moment he hammered his hips up into yours making your mouth fall slack. The twitch of his cock buried deep inside of you that you were nearly able to outline each trace of bulging flesh. Jay’s thrust started off slow but deep, each never daring to pull apart more than an inch from you before pushing it back into you.

Your wet mewls were like music to his ears that he could never get tired of. His hand hiked your leg higher up to align himself into a new position that had stretched your walls even more. Your fingers grabbed the tank top as he inched out further with each thrust before driving his raging hard on into your welcoming self.

The stimulation was growing too much yet, when Jay tried to pull out when he heard your sniffles, the worry in him washed away when you grabbed around his neck and smacked his body onto yours, “Knew you can handle it” He praised which sent flutters into your stomach

Jay’s hand fondled with the flesh of your hips as his thrust grew unrhythmic, the once calculated thrust started slipping into uneven ones and the concealed groans soon became louder and more frequent, “So fucking good to me. Could get used to this forever” Your mind didn’t pick up on the implications on his statement as your wordlessly nodded

Sunghoon on the sidelines instantly picked up on his friend’s chatter and smirked to himself, a weak nod and pursed of his lips together, the mess trickling down your leg from his part before he hooked up to the slacken expression all over your face. His thick eyebrows perked up in interest jotting down to question Jay once they’re back home what he meant by that.

Mewling Jay’s name like a chant felt like a paradise in his mind.”I’m going to- Jay!” Each clench around him sent the coil in his stomach to grow tighter

“Come with me” He pressed your bodies until there was no possibility of space in between, his pace was hard and rough but it made your head thrown back against the wall with a loud gasp mixed with a soft moan when you clamped down on him harshly when you felt the spurts painting your fading white walls pearly white now

He sucked in a breath when your fingers dug harshly into his back mimicked the hard hold you hand around his cock, “Good girl baby” Jay creased the side of your forehead, wiping away the sweat droplets accumulating at the side of your head

“Like knowing that you were so good for me?” Jay’s eyes sparkled when you shyly looked away from him, the clear contraction around his cock from the words was his clear indicator

He took in the gleam casting over you in a perfect afterglow. The twinge of fingers feather over your forehead as you weakly open your eyes to catch his attention. When your weak smile plastered across your face before flinching when he carefully pulled out.

Your tiptoed foot and hiked up one was placed onto the ground but your knees buckled underneath the profound balance. Your body leaned forward but to stop your fall was both Jay and Sunghoon.

Looking between the two males, a gleam of mischief casted over their eyes as they hoisted you upright. A tugging smile rising when they caught sight of the mixed cum sliding down your leg. Sunghoon, the first to move, scooped up the fallen release and spread it across your folds. The wet squelch made him groan when his fingers slid back into your sensitive self.

“One more?” Sunghoon’s voice gruffed out, his hands squishing in between the thighs yet when you were going to respond what you thought was for you

Jay beat you to it.

“One more”

[|━|]

Legs limping after another, your walk uncomfortable as you tried to discreetly shift in hopes of ignoring the clumps of cum that spilled out and clung your folds to your dampened underwear. Your face housed a scowl that couldn’t outshine the afterglow that was beaming from you.

You gulped straightening out your clothing to its previous state before you ran into Jay and Sunghoon when you appeared behind your friend who was doing her set on a leg machine you didn’t know the name of.

Her gazed looked from her feet up to you before loudly shrieking at your reappearance, “Where were you?! You left your phone behind and I was freaking out when I couldn’t find you!” Your friend worriedly yelled, shaking your shoulders until she jerked back in notice of your poorly fixed disheveled state, heavy pants after each breath and an undeniable ambience surrounding you

“Decided to do some cardio instead”

——

#enhypen smut #enha smut #park jongseong smut #park jongseong x reader #jongseong smut #enhypen jay smut #park jay smut #jay park smut #park jay x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen jay #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader

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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months ago

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promiscuous

in which spencer reid doesn't like that flirty!reader is going on a date. he makes that known. (bandages universe)

flangst, 18+ for discussions of sex warnings/tags: gn!reader I think, mentions of going to a bar/going for drinks, very suppressed mutual pining, jealousy from Spencer, reader implied to engage in casual sex, reader calls themself a slut somewhat disparagingly but like as a joke, it all gets resolved, he is very sweet, he rambles when he's nervous a/n: oh God I love them so much they are like so in love and they literally have no idea at all because they're so dumb... but WE can tell.. turning point for them

“Penelope wanted me to confirm that you guys are coming to drinks with us tonight?”

It’s something of a standing tradition for the BAU on the last Friday of every month, and usually you’d agree, but tonight, you have other plans.

“Raincheck for me,” you say, sliding some files into your bag which you do not plan on reviewing. “I have a thing.”

“What thing do you have on a Friday night?” Morgan asks skeptically. You don’t bother looking at him as you hide a smile.

“A date, Morgan. You jealous?”

“You’re going on a date?”

You’d nearly forgotten Spencer was in the room until he spoke—he’s been in one of those quiet moods of his where he sort of floats around everyone else and makes himself insubstantial. As you cast him a sidelong glance, trying to figure out his tone of voice, you see he’s frowning. Nearly grimacing. His brows are drawn so tight you’re worried he’ll give himself a headache.

“Uh, yeah. I am.” Suddenly, your parade feels a little rained on.

“With who?”

You pause, looking back down at your desk with a new frown of your own and shaking your head as if you could clear it that way. “Just… some guy from OT.”

“Dalton?”

Ding ding ding. Somehow he got it right on the first guess, and for some reason, you wish he hadn’t. You don’t want Spencer knowing who you’re going on a date with. It feels wrong.

“Does it matter?” You evade, shoving your things with a little more force into your bag.

“Well Dalton is an idiot, so I guess I’m just trying to figure out why you’d go out with him.”

“And if it’s not Dalton?”

“Then I’d tell you all the guys in OT are idiots and you shouldn’t waste your time on any of them.”

“Alright—” Morgan passes between your desks, placing a friendly hand on your back as he does. “I’m gonna let you two hash this out by yourselves.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised, unsmiling, that means, go easy on the kid. It makes you feel terribly guilty. And more than a little defensive.

“Night,” you call halfheartedly. He only waves as the glass doors swing shut behind him, leaving you and boy genius alone in the bull pen.

Silence falls, cloistering you as you finish packing up together. It seems to magnify the buzz of the overheads. You notice him intentionally lingering, and you sling your bag over your shoulder with a sigh.

“Okay,” you say, turning to face him with your whole body. He seems uncomfortable with that, but you’re not letting this go. “What is this? Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you,” he mumbles, refusing to meet your eyes. “I just think—”

“Yeah. You’ve made your thoughts abundantly clear. I don’t know why you’re judging me for going on a date.”

“I’m not judging you! I just think you deserve better than a guy who looks like he… snorts protein powder for every meal and has less capacity for intelligent conversation than a mealworm.”

“Okay. Do you have someone in mind?”

The words come out a little sharper than you’d meant for them to. A little louder. Spencer looks like a scolded puppy as he swallows.

“Not specifically. Just—someone more like you.”

He just doesn’t get it. You fold your jacket over your arm.

“Yeah, well, until someone more like me comes along and asks me out, Dalton is the best I’ve got. I know he’s not my soulmate, Reid. But he asked me to drinks, and I said yes.”

The room is mostly dark. Only a few fluorescents remain on to cast Spencer in an almost clinical glow against a dark grey background. You’ve been here before. It feels like an interrogation. An environment where you’re practically begging for the truth without saying please, but there’s only room for measured dishonesty.

Spencer speaks under his breath, fiddling with the strap of his own bag. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“What do you want me to do?” It’s an exasperated, confrontational sigh. Your arms raise and fall heavily back to your sides. Another long grey hallway of silence that leads nowhere. When it becomes clear he doesn’t have the answer, or he’s not comfortable sharing, you straighten. “I’ll see you Monday, Reid.”

Your spirits are completely dampened as you trudge to the elevators. What once seemed like an exciting opportunity now only serves as a depressing reminder that you’re wasting your time with a man who isn’t what you want. Maybe you should just call the whole thing off.

“Wait,” Spencer calls, half-jogging to catch the open elevator. His bag bobs with every step, pens and things jingling around inside. It’s endearing, even though you’re upset with him. Your arms remain stubbornly crossed, but he makes it anyway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your mood.”

You laugh dryly. “Yeah, well…”

“It’s just that…” he sniffs and looks down, hair falling in front of his face. He really is sweet, even when he’s kind of a dick. He’s full of so much sincerity he doesn’t know what to do with it all. “I know how you are—you’re special, and funny, and intelligent, and, and Dalton—all those qualities are wasted on him. He looks at you and he just sees a pretty face. It may sound trite, but… he doesn’t deserve you.”

You sigh again, heart squeezing. The glowing light on the panel of floor numbers flickers. “I know your heart is in the right place, alright? But it’s not about who deserves me or who doesn’t. I’m not a prize. I’m a person, and people like to feel wanted. Sometimes, it’s just—it’s about who’s there, and who likes me enough to say it to my face. Sometimes that’s all I need, and I know you didn’t mean it like this, but when you say he doesn’t deserve me, it really seems like you’re not considering what I might want at all. Maybe Dalton is what I want.”

God—this elevator ride is like, comedically long.

“Is he what you want?”

At least he has the bravery to ask.

You glance over at Spencer, washed out bloodless and looking like he’s prepared to flinch, like he doesn’t know if he’s ready for the answer. The doors ding and slide open, and stale air whooshes from the chrome compartment into the lobby like a held breath finally exhaled. You swallow.

“I don’t know why it matters to you.”

“Because you’re my friend and I want to see you happy,” he insists, trailing after you as you speed walk through the lobby. Every click of your heeled boots echos.

“Then shouldn’t you be supporting me?”

“I’m not going to support you in making the wrong choice.”

The conversation spills out into the bitter-cold parking lot. You turn around to face him.

“Respectfully, you have no idea what’s right or wrong for me. I don’t like whatever this is,” you say, gesturing with a finger between the two of you, as if the conflict were a tangible thing—a phone line hanging between your hearts. “I don’t know if it’s, like, jealousy, or some misplaced feeling of possessiveness, or protectiveness, or—”

“It’s not like that!” He splutters.

“Okay—so what is it like? If you want to see me happy, why don’t you support me in pursuing the things that make me happy? And if that’s meaningless sex with some guy from operational tech, so be it! You are not in a position to give your two cents on who I sleep with!”

“I wasn’t trying to—I wasn’t even thinking about—about sex! I don’t care who you sleep with!”

He’s turning increasingly pink.

“Fine. But if you weren’t thinking about sex, if you thought I was under any illusion that Dalton was going to be my fucking Prince Charming then clearly you’re not equipped to have this conversation. I know he’s an idiot. I’m not looking for my soulmate—thank you, though, for reminding me that it’s completely fucking pointless to even pretend. I love you, Spencer, but grow up. And stay out of my business.”

And with that, you’re turning on your heel and marching toward your car. Spencer calls your name—once. Twice. The wind lashes against your bare arms and stings your eyes as you fumble with your keys.

It’s just the wind.

Nothing else.

Maybe you’re simply not meant for love.

It’s a narcissistic thought in the sense that everyone has it at some point in their lives—everyone falls victim to the delusion that they are so uniquely wretched, so singularly incapable of being understood by another person. It’s the universal illusion of solitude. And you’d thought yourself above it for a long time. In college, there was fling after fling. Your bed was never empty if you didn’t want it to be. In your young adult life, you have other priorities—but you rarely have to be alone.

Now, though, as you sit on a rickety metal stool deep in the bowels of the Bureau’s records room, banished to sort through files in search of one that had been mishandled during a cold case and is now supposedly relevant again, (although you’re not sure it actually exists) you’re pondering the nature of those connections you’d been so sure your life was full of. Were they all artificial? Designed by you subconsciously to manufacture a sense of complacent satisfaction? To stave off the aching, gnawing loneliness in your gut that you’re only now becoming aware of and has been eating you away in bigger and bigger bites since Friday night?

Morgan was supposed to be just as arm-deep into a box of dusty manila folders as you are now, but he talked his way out of it, and you’re sitting in an awkward twenty-minute-long-so-far silence with Spencer. Which isn’t helping anything.

The tension comes and goes like the moon pulling the tides. It’s like you can sense it wafting off of each other—you feel it in the prickle on the back of your neck and the buzz in your stomach when he’s about to say something, and you glance over, and he’s already looking at you with his lips parted, and then he doesn’t say anything after all, and the silence reinforces itself.

It gets frustrating.

Not to mention this task is equal parts mind numbing and infuriating. Maybe Hotch just hates you.

Eventually Spencer clears his throat, and you welcome the distraction.

“What year are you on?”

You give him a long look which he doesn’t reciprocate, because you want to say, really? But eventually you pick up the edge of the box you’re sifting through and double check.

“Uh… June 1979 through August 1979.”

He nods matter-of-facts. “They should be making us wear gloves.”

Your incoming tangent spidey senses are tingling. It’s not exactly an opportune time, but it’s better than silence.

Plus—you’re pretty sure this is his idea of a peace offering.

“Why’s that?” You mutter, flicking through yellowed papers.

“Wood pulp paper contains an alum-rosin mixture to minimize ink bleeding, but in the presence of moisture such as that introduced in trace amounts by our fingertips it generates a diluted sulfuric acid solution. They didn’t start adding alkaline buffers into paper until 1986, and the cellulose chains that comprise the structure of the paper inevitably shorten and break down over time, so we’re actively degrading these documents by touching them without gloves.”

“Did you say sulfuric acid?”

“I said a diluted sulfuric acid solution,” he clarifies, utterly missing the point of your question as he so often does in that disarmingly endearing way of his. “Sorry, by the way.”

You look up from a photo of bloodied bell-bottom jeans. He’s caught you by surprise.

“For what?”

“For—”

He struggles with the words—you watch his lips form a few silent ones before he gives up on the nonchalant act and sets his file on his lap. He can’t seem to tear his eyes from it, but you don’t mind.

“For everything on Friday. I… I know it was none of my business. I sometimes struggle with… keeping my thoughts to myself. Especially when it concerns someone I care about. But I wasn’t judging you, I swear. What you said about—about sex, I—” he sighs, obviously frustrated with himself, and pushes a bit of hair out of his eyes. “That’s not where my mind was at, at all. Whatever you… do, or don’t do, is none of my business. Obviously. You don’t need me to tell you that. You don’t need me to tell you anything. I just really wanted to clarify that I wasn’t shaming you or judging you for—”

“Spencer,” you say gently, cutting him off and reeling him in before he can dig any deeper.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

He glows under the canned lighting, a soft aura of white blurring the edges of him. The stale room buzzes. It’s otherwise quiet down here. Peaceful, almost.

From anyone else, you might consider it overstepping.

You wouldn’t have been willing to forgive them in the first place.

But it’s not anyone else.

“Thank you, for apologizing. I really appreciate it.”

He glances up at you, sort of hunched—always trying to make himself smaller than whatever force created him had intended. The deep brown of his eyes is melted and swirling and sweet and nervous. He’s not naturally good at these interpersonal things, but he’s always trying. He’s always pushing himself for you.

Do you ask too much?

Do you offer enough in return?

Struck by sudden insecurity, you look away. Go back to your files.

Perhaps you made a mountain out of a molehill and told him to climb it.

“I mean, I am kind of a slut. I wouldn’t blame you for thinking so,” you laugh airily. “Maybe it was a good reality check.”

A trailing silence. An air conditioner kicks on.

“What? That’s not—that’s not at all what I was trying to say.”

“Spencer, it’s fine.”

His stool squeaks as he sits up straighter.

“No, I really want you to understand. Even if I cared or thought about how many people you might sleep with—which I don’t—and even if I determined that you were… sexually promiscuous, I wouldn’t assign a moral value to that judgement. Sexual promiscuity is observed all the time in the animal kingdom, it’s biologically sound and justified and in less misogynistic cultures where bonds forged between humans weren’t socioeconomic arrangements dependent on women being viewed as commodities first and foremost, it’s completely unremarkable. But I haven’t made that determination. All I know is that… you’re you. And that’s all that’s ever going to matter to me.”

Silence falls. Your voice gets stuck in your throat.

How does he so casually show you more kindness than anyone else has ever managed to show you in your life?

Spencer takes pity on you.

“And… we’ve talked entirely too much about something that’s none of my business today.”

It’s wry and earns a chuckle from you. Even Spencer manages a chagrined smile. That same strand of hair falls loose as he looks down. Light bounces from his self-effacing smirk.

You fiddle absentmindedly with the fraying corner of a folder, and you’re about to open your mouth, about to speak into the sparkling cloud that the easy laughter and the melted tension has left in its wake, and tell him how much you appreciate him and how kind he truly is and undoubtedly whatever you say will be made more beautiful because of it—because of the affection you have for each other—and then you stop, eyes catching on the case file between your fingers. You frown.

“Wait—what’s the case number we’re looking for?”

“91 18 00063 7.”

You hold the file up, eyes alight.

“I found it.”

Spencer frowns and takes it without asking. You watch as he reviews the number in tiny black typeface along the top of the document. His brow scrunches in disbelief.

“I genuinely didn’t think we were ever going to find it,” he murmurs after leading through the photos and glances back up at you. “We had thirty years of boxes to look through and you found it in under an hour. You’re like magic.”

It’s impossible not to smile. You feel all warm and sparkly as you snatch it back from him and stand, straightening your jacket.

“Will you tell that to Hotch?”

“I… will tell anyone who will listen,” he assures you, and you’re confident he’s following as you make your way through the maze of stacks. “Are we not gonna clean up our mess?”

“There are people who will take care of that later.”

“Yeah. Like me. During my lunch break.”

“Don’t worry. You’re going to be well rewarded for your efforts today.”

“What does that mean?” He mumbles, and you can practically hear his blush.

You smile to yourself.

Still got it.

for more of these two, check out the bandages universe masterlist!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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dailyskincareblog · 2 years ago

Text

Introducing our 5 Powder Face Pack Banish Acne, Pigmentation, Wrinkles, and Fine Lines for a Radiant, Youthful Glow.

Face pack: When it comes to skin and hair care, the old remedies of our grandmothers prove to be the best and most effective. Be it getting rid of suntan, acne, dry or oily skin, their natural homemade face packs solve all skin-related problems with ease. Here we are going to tell about one such remedy, by applying which you will make your face shiny and spotless in a month.

#5 Powder Face Pack

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klaus-littlestwolf · 7 months ago

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would you make a Klaus fic, where he and reader are under a sex spell? just a sex magic fic, you can decide on the plot🥰

love your fics btw💕

Warning:Dubcon cause sex pollen, talk and use of sex toys, desperate/passionate fucking, needy Hybrid sex, brief realization of Yandere behavior at the end

‘You’re joking!’ I exclaimed, unable to unhear what Bonnie had just told me.

‘No, not at all. We need to keep you away from everyone else because this spell can potentially effect others who come in contact with you. Caroline has already said you can stay in her parents cabin, Damon is taking you there now.’ She shooed me out of the room and outside to Damon’s car.

‘Get in the back!’ He snapped as I moved to slide into the passenger seat. ‘I don’t need this shit effecting me next-‘

‘Why can’t I just stay in the cell in the basement? That way I won’t be alone…I’m scared-‘

‘Because Klaus was hit by that shit too, we don’t know if he knows what it was yet and with how desperate he is for you every other day without being bewitched, I can’t even imagine what he would do with you now.’ He explained as if I were a small stupid child and I wanted to hit him desperately.

A warlock coming after Elena (as always) for Doppelgänger blood for one of his spells had attacked us. I had grabbed a potted plant outside of the Grille and cracked it over his head which gave Elena enough time to run and find Damon, though as he whirled around to me there was suddenly an angry Hybrid standing in front of me which gave the Warlock pause.

Klaus had seemingly taken an interest in me as soon as he arrived in town and while I don’t encourage him, I’m also not cruel or mean either, which seemed to make him think he had a chance.

The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a small spell bag before dumping some pink powder into his hand and blowing it at the both of us. I couldn’t help but inhale it, only breathing in more when I began choking and hearing Klaus do the same, my eyes and nose burning as I felt his hands holding onto me. Though he was still coughing himself he checked on me (which I found very sweet), hands on my face and inspecting me before brushing the powder off of me leading to me returning the favor. He had no clue what it was and neither did I but after a quick thanks I left to find my friends and a witch to tell me what the fuck I just inhaled.

Turns out we had both been choking on a very powerful potion that people had dubbed “Sex Pollen”. Many witches used to use it several hundred years ago but most stopped once people began insisting that it led to way too many people becoming effected (since all you needed to do was injest a drop) and ending up sexually assaulting whoever came across their path. The potion is typically in a liquid form but talented witches can make it in a powder, however it is about ten times more potent.

‘Stay here, theres food and water, TV, books. Everything you could possibly need. Caroline also bought you some…play things…to help. God this is so gross, they’re in the bedroom. Get out of my car-‘

‘No! How long do I have to stay here?!’ I snapped making him roll his eyes.

‘Bonnie said in the powder form it can take several hours to kick in but it lasts a few days, though with how much you breathed in probably a week at least. Go! Before you infect me too and we really have a problem!’ I grabbed the bag that Elena had packed me and slid out of the car, walking inside and locking the door behind me with a heavy sigh.

‘Fuck All Of You Assholes!’ I screamed, hating my friends for abandoning me just so they wouldn’t suffer as well before I looked around the cabin, finding the bedroom with a large California King that was quite comfortable. I also came across a basket on the bed which contained a rechargeable wand, a 7 inch pink suction cup dildo, a butt plug and a bottle of salted caramel flavored lube. ‘Why The Fuck Was She So Thorough?!’

I set the basket aside and stripped out of my shirt and jeans as I began feeling warm, climbing into the bed under the sheet and deciding to try and take a nap before I get hit with killer horniness.

The nap didn’t last more than an hour before I woke up rolling around restlessly, my body sweating now as a hot feeling in my stomach began intensifying. I couldn’t tell you how long I laid there writhing in misery before I heard a loud knock at the door, instantly hating the world that much more.

‘What are you doing here?!’ I snapped as I finally dragged myself to the front door, moody and uncomfortable which made me unable to be kind.

‘I thought I would come and assist you. Wouldn’t want you suffering through this alone, now would we?’ Klaus asked, looking every bit as put together as always but I could see in his eyes how desperate he was. I could also see his impressive bulge tenting his jeans.

‘How did you find me? I was-never mind. Go away Klaus!’ I groaned, moving to shut the door.

‘I followed Damon, he wasn’t very careful, my guess is he didn’t much care if I found you. They just wanted you away from them before they had to suffer too, your friends that you protected sent you away to save themselves. Seems really selfish to me.’ Any other day I would disagree but with how I was feeling I couldn’t argue with him, prompting me to agree.

‘You’re right…Fuck them! Couldn’t even put me downstairs! Had to leave me all alone!’ I raged as I was overcome by a cramping pain straight down to my pussy causing me to double over.

‘Invite me in Love, let’s help each other? It’s going to be days with only brief hours of relief between…let me help you get some relief?’

‘Klaus, I can’t-‘

‘You want me just as much as I want you, don’t lie!’ He growled, eyes glowing gold now as he showed how desperate he really was, so far gone that he wasn’t able to hide it anymore.

‘It’s just this stupid magic-‘

‘No! No, I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes on you, and you…you need me too.’ His hand reached down to grab his crotch, pupils nearly swallowing his entire eye whole. ‘I can make your pussy feel so good baby, you need me! Who else could go anywhere near as long as a Hybrid, huh?’ He was right, if anyone could help me it was Klaus, especially with how pent up he is himself. ‘Please Y/n? I need to be buried in your little cunt, and you know you need it too! Your fingers can’t help you the way my cock can and I know you’ve dreamt of my cock in your needy little pussy since long before this ever happened-Fuck! I Need You! Please?!’ He begged and as I felt a rush of wetness coat my panties I whined, nodding my head. ‘Say it Y/n…Say It!’

‘Come in Klaus! Please?! I need-‘ I didn’t get to finish my statement before I was tackled to the floor with the Hybrid yanking his pants open and shoving them down enough to free himself before tearing my panties off of my body and shoving himself into me roughly.

‘So Fucking Perfect! Knew your cunt would be perfect! Tightest little cunt-Fuck! Never gonna stop fucking you baby!’

‘Yes! Don’t Stop! Fuck Klaus, your cock! So good!’ Tears leaked from my eyes as he continued thrusting into my body. The sound of skin slapping together echoing through the house and out the front door that hung on one hinge from where the Hybrid had nearly ripped it off as he entered. ‘Oh Fuck!’ I threw my head back against the carpet as my first orgasm rushed through me out of nowhere, only realizing he had finished with me when I felt the hot cum inside of me as he continued thrusting, never once even slowing down.

‘I need to feel you squeeze me again Babygirl, cum for me! Cum for your Alpha!’ The second orgasm was just as strong as the first as I came and felt his body tense up as well before he finally stilled, breathing heavily into my neck.

‘I think…we’re in trouble…’ I panted heavily and he chuckled before looking down at me, hesitating only a second before pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lovely kiss. ‘Don’t stop.’ I insisted when he pulled back, grabbing onto his neck and pressing my lips to his this time as I enjoyed our kiss.

‘This isn’t how I wanted it to happen, I wanted to take you on a date, show you how much I love you…then I was going to fuck you…wanted to make you feel so good you would never leave me again-‘

‘It’s okay, you’ve just done it backwards…you can still take me out, just after this is over because I don’t think people would appreciate you fucking me over our table.’ I teased, enjoying the genuine smile that I got from him, only ever seeing it when he looks at me which has always made me feel special.

‘That’s the spell talking-‘

‘I liked you before that you idiot! I just never really thought you were all that serious.’ I admitted, pushing him up and feeling his (once again) hard cock slide out of me as he helped me stand up.

‘How could you think that? I’ve gone out of my way to show you-your friends told you I was using you, didn’t they?’ I nodded and he huffed a heavy sigh before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into a rough kiss. ‘I love you, regardless of any doppelgänger or your awful friends. After all of this I will take you out properly, I promise…but until then-‘

‘No! No more floor fucking, there’s furniture and a bed here for a reason, no more carpet, it hurts.’ I explained, feeling the rug burn against my back and ass.

‘No more rugs, but I need you now.’ He growled, lifting me by my thighs and appearing in the bedroom instantly, dropping me onto the bed. Just as he spread my legs he paused, glancing over to the table and reaching out to grab the basket with the things Caroline had left. ‘What-‘

‘Caroline left them for me. I guess she wanted to help me since I’m all alone.’

‘Interesting…does she know you well, or not?’ He wondered, picking up the butt plug and raising his eyebrows making me blush as my body started sweating.

‘Klaus! Stop the teasing and get inside me! The cramps are starting, so if you’re not going to help me then get the Fuck out and I’ll do it my-Ah!’ I cried out, feeling the rounded end of the plug pressing to my tight hole and rubbing against it. ‘Oh God!’ Klaus took the lube bottle and squeezed a healthy amount onto the plug before tossing it to the other side of the bed and pressing it back against my ass.

‘Relax Precious, this is going to make it feel so much better!’ He promised, pushing the plug harder until it popped into my hole. Klaus could feel his cock throbbing even harder at the sight of the jewel on the end of the plug. ‘You are so fucking perfect! How do you fee-‘

‘Klaus! Please?!’ I begged, pulling him closer and yanking at his shirt before getting it off and sighing in relief at the feel of his hot skin against mine.

Klaus shoved his jeans and boxers the rest of the way off, finally naked as well before taking hold of his cock and pushing himself back inside of me. ‘There you are love, feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Both of your slutty little holes stuffed up?’

‘T-Too much-Never-‘

‘Never been so full before, I know Baby! I-Fuck!’ Suddenly as if he could no longer control himself he began thrusting into me frantically. ‘Mine! My Fucking Cunt!’ He snarled, Hybrid visage taking over as he fucked into me so hard I briefly wondered if he could shatter my pelvis like this.

‘Yes! Yours! All yours, don’t stop! Please don’t stop?!’

Y/n couldn’t have said how long Klaus continued like that. How long he thrust into her cunt at a painful speed, how many times the both of them had climaxed together while he still continued to fuck his (somehow still) hard cock into her, she couldn’t even say how many times he had buried his fangs into her throat in an effort to mark her as his like a werewolf marking his mate…and maybe he was. Odds are she was never getting away from him now-not that she wanted to.

It was a week later that Damon finally came back to the house to check on her finding the front door ripped open.

He ventured inside, not hearing anything and figuring that it was over for Y/n and who was inevitably Klaus that had torn the door off the hinges. He was prepared with jokes galore for the the drive back, excited to pick on the young girl for giving into the monster that had been after her for months but sadly he never got to use those jokes.

Damon opened the door to the bedroom to find his girlfriends friend snuggled into Klaus Mikaelson’s naked chest fast asleep. The Hybrid however seemed to have awoken as soon as he turned the doorknob, his yellow eyes finding his with an intensity that he had never seen. He bore his fangs, lifting his head and Damon (one of the only people who had never truly feared Klaus Mikaelson) was instantly terrified. It was like a bucket of ice water dumped on him, alarm bells ringing in his head declaring the danger that he is in prompting him to throw up his hands instantly. As Klaus moved to sit up, the young vampire shut the door promptly and hightailed it back to his car, peeling back down the driveway.

He doesn’t know how long that stuff will take to wear off but it definitely hasn’t yet and he would not be disturbing them again!

Y/n and Klaus were in the house for nearly 2 weeks before they felt as if their bodies were back to normal though they stayed for another week after that. No one could have imagined how close such a spell would bring them…no one except Klaus of course.

The witch he had hired to make that powder had done a wonderful job, money well spent in the Hybrids mind. The spell had worked better than he ever could have imagined and it had gotten him exactly what he wanted.

The only thing left to do was to kill the witch that had helped him and ensure that his mate never learned that he was the one who had dosed her.

He finally had his girl, he couldn’t let something so trivial ruin it.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

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theorganicproducts · 1 year ago

Text

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urmum-lovesme · 2 months ago

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The Globe

pairing: Biker!Rafe Cameron x Stripper!Reader

summary: Rafe and Y/n both work at ‘The Globe’, the best strip club on the island, known for their famous ‘globe of death’ performances. Although their relationship is meant to be strictly professional, they can’t seem to deny the tension that lingers between them one night after they perform…

a/n: So I saw these two videos on TikTok of these girls in the globe of death, and It had me thinking, that's so Rafe x Reader get out. Especially with all the screen time he gets in season 4 with his bike 😫. This is my first smut tho so please don't murder me.

Here's the Link to the Inspo! => 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

warnings: !SMUT! basically porn with a plot, reader is a stripper, reader is wearing barely any clothing, Strip club, dangerous motorcycle riding, the globe of death, pole dancing, aerial hoop dancing, reader is a tease, making out, nudity, oral sex (male receiving), spitting, hair pulling, handjob, fingering, dirty talk, begging, praise kink, dom!Rafe, p in v, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, mentions of cum, degrading terms.

The hum of the club was already starting to build. Neon lights flickered along the walls, casting dim glows over the velvet-draped walls. In the dressing room, Yn sat at the mirror, applying the final touches of her makeup. She powdered her face carefully, making sure every detail was perfect. Her lips were a shade of pink, glossy and sparkling under the lights of her vanity, just the right amount of shine to catch attention. Her hot pink two piece clung to her skin, sure to attract eyes with the material clinging to her skin, pushing her tits up, which she brushed over with highlighter.

‘The Globe’ was legendary, not just for the flashing neon lights that beckoned to the island’s nightlife but for its reputation as the best in town. It had earned its fame not through ordinary striptease acts, but through its center stage: the Globe of Death, an enormous metal sphere. Inside, motorcycles roared, their tires skimming the metal walls whilst in the center of it all stood the performers—suspended in the air, spinning in a dance. The act was dangerous, thrilling, and hypnotic, drawing crowds from all over the island. Tonight, the club was packed, as it always was on a weekend. The pulsating beats of the music filled the air, mingling with the scent of alcohol and sweat.

A sharp knock at the door broke Y/n’s focus.

Her hand hesitated, lipgloss in mid-air, she didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Rafe.

Her lips tightened into a thin line as she set the gloss applicator down against her lips carefully, her eyes still fixed on her reflection. She didn’t want him to know how much his presence affected her, even when she fought against it.

“Come in”

She said, her voice soft but clipped, betraying nothing. The door creaked open, and Rafe stepped inside. His silhouette was framed by the hallway lights, tall and confident. The leather jacket and body armour strapped to his chest made him appear every bit the part of the club’s star rider. His gaze flicked over her, lingering a moment too long, before he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Big night”

He asked, eyes lingering on her body, Yn met his gaze through the mirror, her expression neutral.

“As usual.”

But Rafe didn’t move. His eyes were intense, almost predatory, studying her in a way that made her pulse quicken. “You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone,

“Been thinking, maybe tonight, we take it a little further…”

Yn’s fingers gripped the makeup brush now in her hand pulling it back from her cheek, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She didn’t want to admit how much that suggestion stirred something deep inside her.

“Beyond the usual routine?”

She asked, her voice curious. Rafe appeared pleased at her interest, stepping closer, his arms folding.

“What’s the point of doing things the same every night, Yn? We both know we could make it more… exciting.”

The words hung in the air, charged with unspoken meaning, and Yn’s breath caught in her throat. There it was again- the unrelenting tension between them. They both knew they wanted to push the boundaries, but neither one was ready to admit just how far they were willing to go. Yn arched her brow as she caught his reflection in the mirror, her lips pressing together as she placed the brush down onto the vanity. She expected him to talk, but the weight of his silence forced her to finally glance at him through the glass. Rafe’s arms were still crossed, his jacket straining over his biceps as he leaned casually against the doorframe. He let the moment stretch before finally speaking.

“I want you to start on the floor tonight.”

She paused as she blinked at his reflection, they’d never started with her on the floor before, she was always hung up on her hoop, body curved in tune with the music. She raised her brow.

“Start on the floor?”

His smirk grew as he took a step into the room, his voice calm but with an edge of challenge.

“In the cage on the floor. Before I start riding.”

Yn stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched him through the mirror. He stayed rooted behind her now, his arms still crossed and his dark eyes locked on hers, unreadable and unrelenting. The tension in the small dressing room thickened, buzzing like static electricity.

Without a word, she turned in her seat, the plush hot pink fluff of the wide stool brushing against her thighs as she faced him fully. She had to look up at him, her fake lashes fluttering as her gaze traveled upward to meet his. Her head was level with his abs, and the faint scent of leather and motor oil clung to him, and she could smell his cologne mixing with the smell.

Her gaze dipped lower, catching the chunky, decorated belt buckle that drew her attention. Slowly, Yn raised her hand, her fingers brushing against the metal, tracing over the ‘R’ in its center before gliding her skin over the worn edges and grooves of the design. The act was deliberate, her touch light but intentional.

“And why do you think that’s a good idea?”

She asked softly, her voice carrying a hint of challenge. Rafe didn’t move, his smirk unwavering, he knew exactly what game she was playing, she’d been doing it for months now.

“Large crowd tonight, you on the floor while I circle around you will bring more money,” a shadow of a grin on his face as he continued, “I know you’d do anything for money- Sugar.”

His eyes looked down at her as he spoke, the name resting around her neck on a sparkling silver chain slipping past his lips. She tilted her head, her fingers lingering on the buckle as her lips curved into a faint smirk of her own.

“And what happens if your timing’s off?”

“My timing’s never off.”

He said, his voice low, almost a growl as he took a step closer, leaning slightly so she was almost eye-to-eye with him. Yn’s lips twitched upwards as her fingers drifted from the buckle to the belt loop just beside it. With deliberate slowness, she hooked her finger into it and tugged him closer, her gaze never leaving his. The move caught him off guard for only a second, but it was enough for her to notice the way his jaw tensed. Rafe shifted his weight slightly, and for the first time, his composure wavered. He licked his lips, a quick flick of his tongue that gave away more than he probably intended. She tilted her head, her lashes fluttering as she blinked up at him, her finger still hooked in his belt loop.

“What if I say no?”

She asked, her voice was delicate, but Rafe’s eyes darkened, and for a moment he just stared at her, fighting against the urge to shove her back against the vanity. He ducked his head down slightly, closing the distance between them until their faces were mere inches apart as he shook his head at her and responded,

“You won’t”

He murmured, his voice smooth and confident. Yn’s breath hitched, her hand tightening ever so slightly on his belt loop. She couldn’t look away from his eyes, the intensity in them pinning her in place. Rafe’s voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper now, as if the words were meant for her ears alone.

“You like the adrenaline.”

Her pulse quickened, and she hated that he could probably tell. Still, she didn’t let him see her falter. Instead, her lips curved into a small, defiant smile as she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe I do”

The tension between them crackled like a live wire, but the sound of the distant crowd and loud blaring music- snapped them both back to reality. Rafe straightened slowly, eyes fluttering down from her eyes to her tits, the supple curve of her skin looking back up at him.

“They’re out there waiting. Don’t make me carry this show on my own.”

She let out a quiet breath as he made his way out of the dressing room. At the door frame, he paused, glancing back at her one last time, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze, before disappearing down the corridor; and although he was gone her heart was still racing.

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

The club was alive, pulsing with energy that seemed to seep into every corner of the massive space. The ‘Globe of Death’ stood proudly in the center, illuminated by beams of crimson and hot pink lights that swept across its surface. Surrounding it were glittering poles and platforms, alluring dancers twirling and spinning with practiced ease, their skin catching the light, sequined panties and bras shimmering in the caught light as the bass-heavy music vibrated through the air. The smoky artificial haze, added to the dreamlike quality of the club. Voices rose and fell, mingling with the pounding beat that seemed to sync with the pulse of the crowd. The multi-level layout gave every guest a perfect view of their choice, each floor something else, but all eyes were beginning to drift toward the center of the club, where the main event was about to begin.

Rafe was already inside the metal walls, perched on his well recognised motorcycle. He revved the engine, the low growl slicing through the music and catching the attention of those closest. He shifted slightly, his gaze scanning the room, searching for one person in particular.

Yn moved effortlessly through the crowd, her presence magnetic as she worked her way closer to the sphere. She was in her element, the teasing smiles, coy touches, and soft laughter flowing from her as naturally as the smoky haze that filled the air. A hand brushed her bare arm, and she turned, letting out a low, playful giggle as a man slipped a fifty dollar bill into the waistband of her panties. Her fingers grazed his wrist, lingering just long enough to keep him hooked, before she moved on, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music as she made her way toward the edge of the crowd. She caught sight of the managers clustered near the DJ booth, signaling that everything was almost ready.

From his perch inside the globe, Rafe watched her. His hands tightened on the handlebars as his gaze tracked her every move, the way she charmed the crowd, her easy confidence making her the undeniable center of attention- even outside the spotlight.

His jaw clenched slightly as another man leaned in close, his hand brushing Yn’s skin as he tucked a bill under the strap of her bra. Yn responded with a smile, whispering something to the man, tipping her head back just enough to show off the delicate curve of her throat, the perfect image of playful seduction.

Rafe’s engine roared louder, the sound cutting through the club like a warning shot. A few heads turned toward the globe, and even Yn’s smile faltered for half a second as her gaze flicked toward him. Their eyes locked from across the room, and she tilted her head slightly, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. He was always prone to act out wherever she got too friendly with the customers.

The crowd was starting to gather closer, the lights above brightened, casting Rafe in sharp relief as he revved the bike once more, the sound vibrating through the floor beneath their feet. Yn moved closer, finally reaching the edge of the globe, her eyes still on him. She rested a hand on the steel cage, her lips parting slightly as she looked at Rafe.

The lights shifted, the rhythm of the music dipped, creating a hush that spread through the room, and then the manager’s voice boomed through the speakers, smooth and commanding. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, drawing out the words as the anticipation grew thicker,

“Tonight’s main event is one you don’t want to miss. So, put your hands together and make some noise for our best girl… our one and only- …Sugar!”

Rafe revved his engine, the growl of the bike perfectly timed to the announcement, and the room erupted into cheers and applause, whistles piercing the air as the bass dropped back into the music, pounding in time with the audience’s energy. Yn’s smile was dazzling, her confidence radiating as she stepped forward.

Rafe extended a hand toward her from inside the cage, his leather-clad arm steady as his dark eyes met hers. She placed her hand in his, her fingers delicate against his rough, calloused palm, and she climbed over the edge, stepping gracefully into the globe.

Inside the cage, the two of them stood just feet apart, the tension between them palpable, even with the steel separating them from the audience. Rafe’s hand lingered on hers for just a second longer than necessary before he let go, giving her a nod as if to say, you ready?

Yn returned the look with a sly smile, her lashes fluttering as she took her place in the center of the globe. The spotlight shifted again, casting her in a halo of light as the heavy doors of the cage clanged shut with a resounding finality, locking Yn and Rafe inside. Above them, the metal ceiling whirred, and a hot pink hoop began to descend slowly, its polished surface catching the light and glinting. It hovered just above Yn, swaying slightly as if beckoning her to take her place.

She glanced at Rafe, her heart pounding, though her expression remained unreadable. His helmet was on, the reflective visor obscuring his eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was watching her, but she felt his focus nonetheless, a magnetic pull that seemed to reach her even across the enclosed space. Yn hesitated, her gaze flickering between the hoop and the man across from her. Start on the floor, his earlier words echoed in her mind, daring her, taunting her.

Her lips twitched into a faint smile.

She turned her head toward the operator controlling the hoop, her movements smooth and confident. She raised her hand, giving a small, deliberate signal. The operator nodded, and the hoop rose just a bit higher, clearing the space around her but staying within reach.

When she turned back, Rafes head was already faced in her direction, the bike idling beneath him as he leaned forward slightly, his gloved hands steady on the handlebars. Even with his helmet hiding his face, she could feel the unspoken approval vibrating in the air between them. Yn’s smile deepened as she stepped into the center of the globe, her head tilting ever so slightly in Rafe’s direction.

The first notes of the song blasted through the speakers, the heavy bassline reverberating in the air and signaling the start of their routine. Yn’s body reacted immediately, the familiar rush of adrenaline sparking to life and coursing through her veins. Her hips began to sway in perfect rhythm with the beat, each movement fluid and hypnotic. Her hands slid down her sides, over the curve of her hips, and back up to her waist, brushing up against her tits, pushing them up slightly; every motion deliberate.

Behind her, Rafe’s bike roared to life, the sound cutting through the music like a blade. He shifted into gear, the bike lurching forward before gliding smoothly into motion. The crowd watched intently as he began circling her, the steel walls of the cage echoing with the sound of his tires and engine. Yn stayed in the center, unshaken by the vibration of the bike under her feet as Rafe rode closer, the rush of air brushing against her skin with each pass.

And then, without warning, she felt it.

A gloved hand slid against her waist, the touch firm yet fleeting as Rafe’s bike roared past her. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her movements faltered- just for a heartbeat- before she caught herself and fell back into the rhythm of the music, hands raising above her head, giving him more access to her skin. He came around again, and this time his hand brushed against the curve of her stomach, it was subtle, yet it sent a shiver racing down her spine.

He’d never done this before, never reached out mid-performance.

Yn felt it- felt the deliberate nature of it, the way it made the air between them crackle with a charge that wasn’t part of the show.

As Rafe continued his path, his hand skimmed her again and again, following the circular motion of his bike as if he were tracing invisible lines around her body. Yn didn’t dare look at him, but she could feel the weight of his focus, the intensity of his presence wrapping around her like the walls of the globe.

Yn extended her arms up, fingers brushing the polished surface before gripping it firmly. Her muscles tensed as she lifted herself, her body moving with practiced grace as she adjusted her position. The crowd cheered as the hoop began to rise, lifting her higher into the globe’s confines.

For a moment, she hung motionless, her body suspended, on display like a jewel in the center of the cage. One hand released the hoop, leaving her to dangle precariously as the audience gasped. Then, with fluid precision, she transitioned into a two-handed grip, her body curling and stretching as she performed a series of intricate, mesmerizing movements. The music pulsed, growing louder as the beat synced with the rhythm of the performance. As Yn spun herself around the hoop, her body arched in perfect symmetry, she felt the sudden, firm touch of Rafe’s hand on her calf. With his guidance, she spun in sync with his path, her body following the momentum he created. Her legs extended gracefully as he moved her, the interplay of the bike’s roar and her ethereal movements creating a performance that had the crowd watching at the edge of their seats.

The routine builds to its climax, Rafe’s bike roaring beneath him as he veers sharply, taking the cage’s vertical walls with an almost reckless abandon. The crowd holds their breath as he pushes his bike into a full arc, his wheels now nearly inverted. Yn, suspended in the air, watches as Rafe defies gravity. Her heart races, the adrenaline coursing through her, matching the beat of the music as she curves her body. The two of them are in perfect sync, finishing the routine with a breathtaking drop as Yn lands lightly on her feet, breathless but exhilarated.

The crowd explodes into applause, the cheers echoing as the music fades out.

Rafe’s helmeted face glimmers in the light, and Yn’s chest rises and falls with the rush of the performance. The doors to the Globe of Death creaked open slowly, revealing the dim lights of the club beyond, their flickering glow casting long shadows on the floor. The roar of the bike’s engine faded, leaving only the sound of heavy breaths and the buzzing crowd.

Rafe, still behind Yn, moved with purpose as he pulled his helmet off, his hand brushing his buzzed hair. He watched as her chest rose and fell with each breath, her body decorated with a slight sheen of sweat from the performance, which made him want to lean forward and lick it off her skin. She was still catching her breath, her body pulsing with the aftermath of the rush.

Without warning, Rafe’s hand landed lightly on the back of her upper thigh, his fingers lingered for a moment, and though his voice was hushed, it carried a weight that only she could hear.

“Atta girl”

He murmured softly to her. Yn looked back at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were locked onto hers with an intensity that was felt even beneath the helmet. The chemistry between them flared, the feeling of his hand against her skin, warm and steady, sent a thrill through her, deepening the connection they shared.

Rafe’s gaze flickered down to Yn’s lips for a brief moment, the suggestion behind the look undeniable. Yn felt the shift in the air, the unspoken desire hanging between them, and she couldn’t help but notice. But just as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she looked away, the reality of their setting grounding her back to the present.

They were still at work, after all…

She made her way out of the cage, her heels clicking against the metal floor, her body still pulsing with the adrenaline of the performance. Rafe followed close behind, his steps steady but purposeful, his eyes drifting down to the way her ass looked in her pretty pink panties.

Yn didn’t walk through the crowd this time. Instead, she moved up onto the small dancing platform situated in front of the globe, a familiar spot for her after a performance. The stage was raised just enough to give the crowd a better view, and as she stepped up, the patrons eagerly threw bills at her, their hands reaching out to add to the chaos.

The money rained down, some landing on her body, others falling to the floor of the stage, but it didn’t matter. The customers loved it- their eagerness evident.

From by the cage, Rafe stood, watching as the money cascaded around her. His gaze didn’t leave her for a moment, the scene unfolding like a dance with Yn at the center. His eyes followed each piece of cash as it landed, but they always returned to her, lingering in a way that felt almost possessive.

Yn slowly circled around the pole, hips grinding against it as her fingers glided along the smooth cold metal, moving with practiced grace. Her eyes flickered to Rafe, and she glanced over her shoulder, the teasing glint in her gaze matching the sensuality of her movements. She gently bit her lower lip, a playful challenge in the way she held his gaze.

Rafe’s reaction was instant. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes darkening as he followed her every move. His stare didn’t waver, but there was a moment of almost painful restraint in him as he watched her. The tension between them hung thick in the air, both of them aware of the silent exchange.

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

After the performance, Yn made her way back to her dressing room. The sound of the music faded as she closed the door behind her, the silence settling slightly, her body still humming with adrenaline, the heat of the performance lingering on her skin. She quickly made her way to the vanity, taking in a deep breath as she sat down. The reflection in the mirror was a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction- her makeup slightly smudged from the sweat, but the glow in her eyes remained.

Before she did anything else, she reached down and pulled the money from the waistband of her panties and the straps of her bra, gathering the bills into the small basket she kept for such moments. As she wiped the sweat off the back of her neck and touched up her makeup, her thoughts kept drifting back to Rafe- the way his eyes had followed her…

Yn was changing her heels, the soft rustle of fabric and the click of the shoes as she slipped them off and reached for another pair. Then the door opened, and she didn’t immediately look up, assuming it was one of the other dancers but when the door clicked shut softly, she turned her head, confused by the silence that followed.

There, standing in the doorway, was Rafe.

He’d closed the door behind him and was now leaning against the frame, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and unreadable, as if he’d been waiting for her to notice him. Yn pressed her lips together, fighting the smile threatening to break through. There was something about the way Rafe stood there, calm and composed, that made her want to tease him.

Barefoot, she held her shoes loosely in one hand, her perfectly manicured toes pressing against the cool cement floor. She slowly straightened up, her movements deliberate as she let her gaze move up to meet his. With a slight tilt of her head, she locked eyes with him, Yn couldn’t resist teasing him. With a small, knowing smile, she turned and gracefully made her way to her fluffy stool, sitting down slowly. Her eyes never left his as she leaned back slightly, resting her arms against the vanity behind her. The soft, cushiony fabric of the stool seemed to accentuate the way her posture shifted, back arching, pushing her chest forward- relaxed but with an undeniable air of confidence.

Rafe watched her every move, the space between them growing thicker with the weight of the tension. He took a few steps toward her, his gaze locked on hers, when he finally reached her, he looked down, his expression unreadable for a moment. Yn met his eyes, her sight flickering to his lips before returning to his eyes. She didn’t move, watching him closely as his hand reached out, coming to rest under her chin. He gently lifted her head, encouraging her to tilt her head upward just slightly.

The touch of his hand was like a spark, making her pulse quicken.

His thumb brushed over her lower lip, slow and deliberate as he tugged it down slightly. Yn held her breath, her lips parting ever so slightly as his thumb traced the delicate curve. The tension now suffocating as Rafe licked his own lips, his eyes darkening just a fraction as he held her gaze, every movement charged with anticipation. Rafe’s thumb lingered on her lower lip, for a heartbeat, neither of them moved, both caught in the weight of the charged silence. Yn’s breath hitches slightly, as Rafe’s lips part, and his voice comes out low, like a challenge.

“You know you want this”

He murmured, just barely audible, his breath warm against her skin. He leaned in as if to say something more, but at the last second, he held back, his eyes waiting, letting her decide.

Yn’s pulse quickens, she could pull away, play coy, act like nothing’s going on. Or, she could lean into this- let the magnetic pull between them take over. She smirks slightly, a playful challenge in her eyes.

Slowly, she reaches up, her fingers brushing against his hand that’s still resting at her chin. She lets her fingers trace lightly over his knuckles, teasing, deliberately slow, savoring the moment. Then, as if unable to stop herself, she brushes her lips against his thumb again- just barely, enough to make him feel it.

He’s on the edge, and she knows it.

Yet she doesn’t pull away; instead, she leans in just a little closer, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her lips. Without warning, she catches his thumb between her teeth, biting down gently, tongue flicking over the tip of his skin.

Rafe freezes for a moment, his entire body tense, the spark of frustration and desire mixing in his chest, the playful bite- the teasing gesture- riles him up more than he cares to admit. His grip tightens on her chin, eyes darkening with a mixture of amusement and hunger.

Yn stays seated, inches away from him, and she can feel the heat radiating off Rafe as he hovers in front of her. Slowly, she runs her hand up from his abs, feeling the muscles tighten under her touch, before slipping her fingers under the collar of his black t-shirt.

She hooks her finger into it and pulls him closer, her eyes never leaving his.

Rafe is practically leaning over her now, his other hand coming to rest on the vanity behind her, bracing himself as he leans down. The space between them is practically nonexistent- his face only inches from hers. She watches the way his pupils dilate, the tension in his jaw. Yn lets the silence hang in the air for a moment, the only sound between them their labored breathing. Then, in a voice that’s barely above a whisper but still charged with challenge, she speaks.

“It’s all yours if you want me… ”

The invitation hangs in the air and she watches him closely, her lips parted, waiting for him to make the move.

Rafe can’t take it anymore. His breath catches as he leans down, closing the space between them. His lips crash into hers, hungry and fierce, pulling her into a kiss that’s been building for far too long. She leans back against the table of the vanity, giving into the kiss, letting him take the lead, both of them finally surrendering to the moment they’ve both been fighting to resist.

As Rafe pulls her in, Yn’s hand slides up from his chest, her fingers trailing along the rough fabric of his t-shirt before curling around the back of his neck, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her touch. She pulls him closer, her fingers brushing over the back of his hair, her thumb gently grazing the side of his neck as their lips meet in a wet, desperate kiss.

Her other hand, now free, moves to his cheek, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the tension there as he deepens the kiss. His breath mingles with hers, and she can taste the urgency in his movements, both of them finally giving in to the magnetic pull.

Rafe’s hand moves from the vanity to her chin, his thumb brushing over her lower lip before sliding down her neck. He lets his fingers drift along the curve of her jaw, palm sliding over her collarbone, before finally resting at her waist. His grip tightens slightly, pulling her closer as he leans in, his body pressing against hers in a way that makes her heart race even faster.

The space between them shrinks with each passing second, and before long, she’s tilted her head back slightly, her body melting into the kiss. Her legs instinctively move, wrapping around his waist, drawing him in closer as their bodies press together with a newfound urgency. Her fingers still hold his neck, feeling the weight of him on top of her, his hands sliding to her hip now, slyly moving down to her ass as he grabs it roughly. His lips are everywhere, trailing down her neck, before coming back to her mouth, making her feel dizzy.

As the kiss breaks for just a moment, Yn’s hands move urgently to Rafe’s jacket, pushing it off his shoulders; she can feel the tension in his body, the tautness of his sleeves pulling against his defined arms as he shrugs it off. Her hands move instinctively, running over his arms, feeling the strength beneath her fingertips. Her grip tightens on his biceps, pulling him closer, she can feel his muscles flex under her touch, and it’s too much to resist. She shifts slightly, her legs still wrapped around him, as she breathes heavily, eye-lids heavy, her pupils blown wide with desire.

She pulls back from his kiss, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and looks up at him through a haze of longing. Her fingers trail down his arms slowly, inching their way to the hem of his t-shirt. She hooks her fingers underneath it, running them along the ridges of his abs, her breath catching in her throat as she feels the heat of his body beneath her touch. She locks eyes with him, her voice a husky whisper as she says,

“Take it off.”

The words hang in the air, charged with anticipation, as she waits for him to respond. Rafe’s breath hitches at her words, and with a quiet, almost possessive growl, he pulls back from her slightly. The fabric clings briefly to his skin, and as he quickly pulls it over his head, his toned, muscular frame is revealed.

“This what you want Sugar?”

His chest is broad and defined, the muscles sculpted beneath smooth skin, with deep lines of tension running down to his abs. Every inch of him is hardened with muscle, from his solid biceps to the sculpted lines of his abdomen. The soft light from the vanity reflects off his skin, highlighting the curve of his shoulders and the strong, defined V of his waist.

Before Y/n can stop herself, her fingers are reaching out, brushing against the hard planes of his chest. The touch is tentative at first, like a spark igniting, and her fingers trace the lines of muscle along his shoulder, moving down slowly, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

Rafe’s pulse quickens, and he watches her with hooded eyes, noticing the way her fingers linger on his skin, exploring. Yn shifts, sitting up slowly, her body moving with a deliberate grace. She positions herself closer to him, her eyes locked with his, dark with desire, and her breath hitches as she moves forward, now inches away from his bare torso.

With a teasing glint in her eyes, she leans in, her lips brushing lightly against his abs. The touch is slow and deliberate, a soft kiss against skin, sending a ripple of heat through both of them. Her lips linger just long enough for him to feel the warmth, before she pulls back, her gaze still fixed on him, waiting for his reaction.

The simple gesture sends a shockwave of desire through Rafe. He watched her, his breath shallow, heart racing, his jeans were so tight against his cock it was becoming painful. Yn shifts forward again, a bit closer this time, her lips curving into a teasing smile. She doesn’t rush, taking her time as her gaze flickers between his eyes and the hard planes of his torso. Her fingers graze over his skin, and without breaking their eye contact, she presses another kiss, this time a little lower, just below his navel.

She pulls back slightly, letting the tension build before she leans in again, planting a few soft, lingering kisses along his abs, her lips moving slowly, reverently. Each kiss is deliberate, as though she’s savoring the moment, every inch of his body. Her breath is warm against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Her hands rest lightly on his sides, her fingers curling into his muscles as she continues, her lips brushing against his skin with a soft, teasing rhythm.

Rafe, unable to control himself any longer, reaches out his hand, threading through her hair and gently gripping the back of her head, pulling her closer to him. The sensation of her lips against his skin, is making him lose his mind. He groans softly as his fingers tighten in her hair, urging her to keep going, his body leaning in toward her with a need he can no longer ignore.

As Yn continues pressing soft kisses against Rafe’s abs, her hands move slowly, trailing from his sides to the front of his pants. Her fingers brush over the edges of his waistband before they find the chunky belt buckle, the metal cool under her fingertips. She runs her fingers along the indents and details of the design, feeling the strength and texture of it. She leans back slightly, her eyes now locked onto the buckle as her hands toy with it, slowly flicking it with a teasing, deliberate touch. The tension in the room thickens as Rafe watches her with a deep intensity, his hand still holding her head close, his grip tightening as she continues to play with him.

With a slow, steady movement, Yn pulls at the buckle, glancing up at him through her fluttering lashes, her gaze daring to push him over the edge. The heat between them simmers just beneath the surface, every touch, every movement. Yn’s fingers brush over the buckle again, this time more deliberately. She feels the cool metal beneath her touch as she works it loose, unfastening it with a slow, steady motion.

The sound of the buckle clicking open echoes in the silence of the room, and for a brief moment, there’s a pause - the anticipation hangs heavy in the air.

Rafe’s body goes rigid for a split second as he watches her. His hand tightens in her hair, a silent warning, but the way his gaze darkens only heightens the heat between them. He leans in closer, but he doesn’t move, not yet. His eyes flicker between her hands and her face, his jaw tight with restraint.

Yn slowly slides her hand away from the belt, meeting his gaze with a challenge of her own. She smirks slightly, her lips brushing over the edge of the buckle as she pulls her hand back. The act of unbuckling it and then teasing him, is enough to make Rafe’s resolve crack, his hand moving from her head to cup her face, roughly pulling her chin up to look at him grunting out,

“Get on your knees.”

As Rafe holds her face with his hand, Yn shifts slightly, siding off the stool and moving onto her knees, the cold floor cooling her burning skin. She’s eye-level with the bulge in his jeans, and the sight makes her squeeze her thighs together in an urge to relieve the ache between them. She looks up at him, her eyes half-lidded, watching the flicker of restraint in his expression faltering. Rafe’s hand stays on her face, his thumb brushing along her jawline as he continues,

“Take them off.”

She reaches for his belt buckle again, teasing him with her fingertips, but this time, her motions are more deliberate as she moves further, unbuckling it fully. Her fingers pop open the button and draw down the zip, fingers curling into the waistband of his jeans and pulling them down, leaving him in his black brief, the material tight over the outline of his hard cock. Rafe’s breath hitches at the movement, but he doesn’t pull her closer. Instead, his hand tightens on her chin, lifting her gaze back up to him. The way she’s kneeling, her body drawn closer to his, causes his voice to drop lower, now edged with more command than it was before.

“You gonna behave for me Sugar?”

Y/n bit her lip as she tilted her head up to look up at him, hand coming up to press his hard on over the material of his briefs, Rafe let out a low moan at her movements, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Losing patience he roughly grabbed Y/n’s chin as he leaned down towards her,

“You want my cock baby?”

She hummed back in response nodding her head, bottom lip still caught between her teeth, he pulled her head up closer to him, tone harsher,

“Use your words”

“Yes”

“What?”

“Yes please”

Y/n could feel the arousal dampening the material of her panties. She was sure if he told her to take them off, he’d see the way the wetness made them stick to her pussy. Rafe let out a hum of satisfaction as he tugged down at her bottom lip again, thumb slipping between her teeth pressing her tongue down, prompting her to open her mouth. The girl complied, mouth slackening instinctively for him. He leaned down closer, eyes locked onto hers, as he spit into her mouth, the girl letting out a whimper as his spit hit her tongue.

“Yes please what”

“Yes please Rafe”

“Good girl”

He grunted, standing straighter as his grip on her chin dropped, letting her move towards him. Her hands slid up from where they rested on his upper thighs, slipping between his skin and the elastic of his briefs, pulling the material down and letting his hard cock free against his lower stomach. She shuffled closer to him, knees sore from the hard floor, but she didn’t care, she was too turned on to pay attention to things that weren’t his cock in her mouth.

His hand brushed some of her hair out of her face as her hand wrapped around his length, moving up and down slowly; causing Rafe to let out a breath. She leant forward, licking a stripe up from the base to the top of his cock, tongue swirling around his sensitive tip, evoking a low groan from him. She spat on his length, hand working the slick up and down, the wet sounds, along with their heavy breathing filled the room. She tapped the tip against her lips, Rafe’s hooded eyes watching her every move as she rested him against her tongue, lips wrapping around his cock, hollowing her cheeks as she moved down his length. He jerked his hips forward at the feeling moaning out huskily,

“-Fuck”

She hungrily worked at him, gags passing her lips as he rutted into her occasionally, struggling to hold back as he let out deep moans, her warm, wet mouth ever so inviting. Beads of precum leaked from his slit, and Y/n lapped them up eagerly, eyes fluttering shut as she savoured the warm, salty taste.

“Such a fucking slut… shit-”

He bit back a moan as he suddenly gripped her hair, pulling her back and muttered harshly,

“Get up”

She rose on shaky legs, standing in front of Rafe as his hands slid down to her thighs, unexpectedly lifting her up effortlessly, causing her to steady herself on his shoulders. He moved towards the leather sofa in the corner of the room, placing her down onto it, the material of the blanket below her soft on her skin.

“Rafe-”

She whimpered out her thighs squeezing together, she was so aroused now her panties were completely soaked, the material sticking to her needy pussy. His hands pressed against her skin, sliding up from her calves to her knees, where he spread her legs open for him, her back arching up slightly as the feeling of the cool air between her thighs. He tutted as he guided his hands further up her body, fingers snapping the waistband of her panties against her hip, causing her breath to hitch,

“Please”

He slowly pulled them down her legs, a string of her slick connecting her pussy to the material, causing him to groan out,

“Fuck- look at her baby, so needy for me hmm?”

Rafe bunched the panties in his hand, shoving them onto the couch as he leaned down to her, littering wet sloppy kisses over her neck, the girls hand coming out to grip at his bicep as she lifted her hips up to meet his, letting out a soft moan at the friction. He pulled back from her, immediately pushing her hips down, hand firmly over her stomach,

“Good girls wait Y/n”

She shook her head as she whined out, hands grabbing at his shoulders trying to pull him closer, but his firm frame stayed motionless.

“Don’t tease…”

He shook his head, a smirk slipping onto his face as he looked at the desperate girl, her usual confidence now gone. This time however, his hand fluttered over her inner thigh, causing her to bite harshly at her lower lip.

“How bad do you want me?”

He mocked as his hand slid up further, brushing faintly over her aroused pussy causing her to mewl out,

“So- so bad.”

“Yeah?” He asked, satisfied glint in his eye as he watched the girl trembling beneath him, “Beg me then.”

Her eyes looked to him, staying silent

“No?”

He questioned, she could feel his body heat against hers and it was driving her insane. The hand which she rested against the couch, now clenched the blanket she layed on tightly in her grip.

“So I guess I won’t touch your pussy then-”

He started pulling his hand away, sitting up slightly, causing her to snap,

“No!- no please… please touch me Rafe I’m so wet for you please… - need you so bad baby, need your cock so bad.”

At this point she didn’t care about the humiliation of the brainless rambles passing her lips, she was so horny that all she wanted was a release from the agonising ache between her thighs. He couldn’t stop the satisfied grin from creeping into his face as he pressed his mouth against hers and running his tongue over her bottom lip. Y/n’s breathing picked up at the action but hitched as she felt his thumb press steady circles against her clit, causing her to moan loudly into his mouth in relief, back arching at the newfound sense of pleasure.

“So sensitive”

He mumbled against her lips, the words barely audible, a low husky whisper that sent shivers down her spine. He pulled away, his breath mingling with hers, their closeness still electrifying, and Y/n panted heavily, struggling to keep her composure. With a high pitched moan, she felt her nails dig into his bicep instinctively,

“More”

“Ask nicely”

“More please Rafe”

“Whatever you want Sugar”

Y/n’s mouth dropped open into a silent ‘o’ as Rafe teased her weeping hole, before slipping his finger in effortlessly due to the wetness now dripping into the blanket below her.

“Fuckkkk- so ready for me hmm?”

She threw her head back with a desperate gasp as he pumped two fingers into her, curling them slightly, the girl's hips rising to match Rafe’s movements. Her mind was becoming fuzzy and all she could focus on was the slowly building knot in her stomach. Rafe could feel her clenching around his fingers as he leant down, breath brushing against her ear,

“Feel good sugar? You like it when your coworker makes your pussy feel good in the back of the club”

Her loud moan cut him off,

“Fuck! Rafe please- I’m gonna cum”

He pulled back all together, causing her brows to furrow as her eyes flickered open from where they’d shut second ago. She was met with the image of Rafe with his fingers by his lips, tongue coming out to lick over the arousal covering his slender digits, causing her to swallow hard, she felt like she was going dumb from how badly she needed him.

“Rafe”

“I know, I know, gonna make this pussy feel so good”

He spoke out heatedly as he pushed himself forward between her thighs, lining his cock up with her hole. Rafe eyes flickered up to Y/n, from where they were gazing at his heavy dick resting against her throbbing pussy: and she was already looking directly at him, eyes glossy with desire. His hand rested on her thigh, thumb rubbing small circles against her skin as he pushed his tip into her, causing her to let out a breathless moan. He teased her pulling out slightly, causing her to babble out,

“No please- I can’t-“

He shushed her as he languidly slid his hips forward, filling her up with his length. She moaned out, walls fluttering against him as her arms came up, wrapping around his shoulders, nails digging into his back, frantically pulling him closer to her, causing him to let out a grunt.

“You like that?”

He groaned out voice deep as he thrusted his hips against her at a fast pace, the sound of their skin slapping and Y/n’s high pitched wines and breathless moans echoing in the dressing room.

“Yes yes yes-”

The words mindlessly passed her lips as she dragged her nails down his back, drowning in the hypnotising pleasure of him rutting against her. Rafe shifted slightly, hand pressed against the sofa supporting himself as the other moved down to the girl's collar bones, grazing over them before his fingers slipped around her neck, squeezing slightly. Y/n’s back arched up in response, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“Such a dirty fucking slut”

He spat out at her as he relentlessly snapped his hips against her. Her hand shakily reached up, gripping into Rafes wrist, as she looked up to him, mouth falling open in pleasure again.

“Fucking say it”

He grunted as his grip around her neck tightened slightly, causing her walls to tighten against his cock, she could feel her high building and she choked out to him,

“I’m a fucking slut”

“Yeah you are”

He groaned as his hips stuttered slightly, his jaw clenching. Rafe let go of Y/n’s throat, hand moving down between their hot and sweaty bodies to rub at her sensitive clit, the girl jolting at the feeling causing her walls to clamp around him again, she was moaning relentlessly now, loud gasps of his names passing her lips as she chanted them like a prayer.

“Fuck”

He let out a long low whine as he continued to rock his hips into her, his pace faltering as he felt the heat in his stomach rising.

“Rafe- Rafe- I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum-”

She cried out, hands clawing at his skin, digging into his bicep, sliding down his chest, dragging down his back. He knew he was going to have red angrily lines littered over his skin tomorrow but he didn’t seem to care, the knowledge that everyone would know it was her who had marked him up only aroused him more.

“Give it to me Sugar, fucking soak my cock in your pretty juices”

His words caused her to topple over the edge, her body melting into Rafe’s as she threw her head back, mouth open in a silent moan as waves of pleasure caused her vision to blur slightly. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been fucked so good, her limbs felt like jelly. Rafes grunts turned into pants as he moaned into the crook of her neck,

“Fuck baby”

His hips stilled, his cock pulsing inside Y/n’s pussy, hot seed leaking into her tight walls. She whined out at the feeling, legs still firmly wrapped around him, keeping him in place as they worked through their highs.

The room was now filled with nothing but their heavy breaths, Rafe pulled back slightly, slipping his dick from her warm walls, his eyes flickering down to her pussy as he watched some of his cum dribble out of her hole onto the blanket below, causing him to let out a small hum. His hand reached up, resting on the girl's thigh as his thumb circled her skin again, however this time it was not teasing.

“You okay?”

She nodded her head to him as her hand came up, to run over his chest, fingers trailing down his skin to his bicep, where angry red lines had already started to appear. She couldn’t deny that the image of him marked up by her nails was bringing her a sense of satisfaction. However she brushed that aside as she spoke out,

“I hope nobody heard us”

He looked down as her an amused smirk on his face as he responded,

“I don’t know if they heard me… but they definitely heard you.”

1K notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months ago

Text

southern rivalries

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, cheerleader!reader, football player!rafe, college football but i dont know anything so please excuse any wrong details, rivals to lovers, p in v sex, protected sex to unprotected sex lol, sixty nine, male and female receiving oral, male receiving handjob, brief injury but no one is seriously hurt

words: 2.3k

“they're not just a different school.” steffie says, placing her hands down on the table as her tone turns way too serious for the subject. “they're our rivals, our arch nemeses. the war has torn families apart.”

“it's football.” you say plainly. “college. football.”

“i can tell you're new here.” steffies friend tiffy agrees (you've always wondered if they purposely chose their nicknames to rhyme considering they seem attached at the hip). “you just don't get it. football is life here in the south.”

“and north carolina are our rivals. even though we are north carolina.” you are trying to wrap your head around the culture at your new school.

“kind of but also, not at all.” tiffy says while steffie finishes the sentiment for her. “we are nc state. the wolf pack. our rivals are unc tar heels.”

“tar heels is a dumb name.” you snort.

“exactly!” steffie agrees.

the conversation shifts, but it never goes to far from football, too far from the rivalry that seems to extend to everything, from other sports to academics.

“did you cheer in high school?” steffie asks.

“yeah.” you nod. “well, not sideline because it conflicted with volleyball. i did competitive though.”

“you should try out for our sideline team. we need more numbers and…” her voice turns to a whisper like she's sharing a deep, dark secret. “my sister is the team captain. you'll definitely get on the squad if i put in a good word for you.”

-- two months later --

“wolf!” you shout with your fellow cheerleaders, listening to the crowd scream back.

“pack!”

“wolf!” you yell again before dropping your poms, quickly learning that most of the girls never did competitive cheer and aren't the best tumblers, leaving you to be the one flipping across the sidelines to the cheers of fans.

you wave and kick and cheer, just happy to have something to do on friday nights. you feel a little guilty for beating out girls that are a lot more passionate about football and your college, but you try your best to put it past you.

you get back in the line, yelling out cheers and keeping your cheeks stretched wide with a smile, occasionally glancing at the clock to see how much longer until your halftime routine (as well as the score… a little bit.)

the seconds are ticking down and you're about to raise your poms again to shake the red and white colors in the air, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn, you're hit in the back.

“ahhh!” you scream out and fall forward, the football player falling with you as the ball falls from his hands.

“shit.” he groans and quickly rolls off of you. “are you okay?”

you roll over onto your back, coughing and trying to suck in oxygen after the air was knocked out of your lungs.

you realize quickly that the football player now moved to hover over top of you is not one of your own with his powder blue jersey and white helmet.

“im-” you take another deep suck of breath, but this time not in recovery as you see his face through the face mask, blue eyes looking into yours and the most handsome face you've ever seen.

“im fine.” you manage to say before you're surrounded by a crowd, the wolfpack players pulling the opposing player away and your fellow cheerleaders helping you back up.

steffie pushes strands of hair out of your face, getting you back to proper uniform while tiffy shoves your fallen poms back into your grip.

“ew.” tiffy says, wiping the back of your uniform like the tar heel player left a literal stain on you.

“and our cheerleader is back and up on her feet! let's give it up for her as number 19 rafe cameron re-enters the field after their clash.”

you wave your hand in the air as the crowd claps for you, their attention briefly away from the field, but there's only one thing on your mind. rafe cameron.

-- two hours later --

“what are you doing?” steffie yells, snatching your phone from your hand and making you quickly regret agreeing to be her and tiffies third roommate.

“don't you know fraternization is not allowed with tar heels?”

“im not doing anything!” you grab your phone back out of her hand, still opened up to his instagram page. “simply looking at the guy who hit me, okay? i was just curious.”

“mhm.” steffie gives you a glaring look that clearly says she doesn't believe you.

you sigh softly and close out of the account, not that there's many posts to look at anyways, and only a few not on the football field with his helmet off and structured face in full view.

“let's go out.” you say quickly.

“after we lost the game?” steffie shakes her head.

“alright, whatever.” you get up to get dressed in something cute, not willing to let the football teams loss hold you back from living your life, and admittedly you need a breath of fresh air away from cheer or football or your dorm mates.

you're at a club you've never been to before, not one of the ones that plasters wolfpack pride posters to all of their walls and plays the red and white anthem like it's a kesha song.

you show the bouncer your id and step into the music filled room, quickly ordering yourself a drink when you hear loud whooping from a different section.

you look over and find a group of men that you quickly realize despite the clubs colorful lighting are wearing that recognizable baby blue.

“of course.” you groan, just happening to stumble into the same bar as the unc players while you're trying to not think about football or even college despite all your classes being easy entry level.

you're about to pay your tab and leave when a deep, familiar voice speaks from jarringly close.

“another drink of whatever the lady is having.”

“i- no, no.” you shake your head, only briefly glancing at him. rafe. “im fine.”

“you're that cheerleader, aren't you?” he leans his elbow against the table, and the bartender makes you a drink and places it down in front of you despite your attempted disapproval.

“yeah.” you nod. “not that… into all of this i guess.” you shrug, hand waving at the logo on his shirt. “i didn't know y'all came here to celebrate.”

“ah.” he nods. “and your name?”

you realize quickly that you know far too much about him when all he knows is that he accidentally hit you, and that you cheer for his rival team.

“y/n.” you reply, taking a sip of your drink, actually tasting it this time instead of quickly gulping it down like you did the first time.

“im rafe.” he reaches his hand out and you shake it, wondering if the invisible blue stain is somehow going to be picked up on by steffie and tiffy when you eventually make it back to your dorm.

“i never got to properly apologize. i did look for you after the game. i guess it was fate that brought you here tonight.” rafe squeezes your hand, and you quickly realize it's still held in his grip. “im sorry.”

“im not supposed to-” you quickly take your hand out of his grasp. “im not supposed to be talking to you. sorry.”

“ah.” he says again. “that pesty no fraternization rule. im not supposed to be talking to you either.”

there's a pause, a mutual understanding and acknowledgement of the tension brewing between the two of you.

“but that's not going to stop me from asking you back to my hotel room.”

the words barely leave his lips before your mouth is on his.

it's a mess of hands, furiously grabbing and tugging at clothes until you're both down to just your undergarments.

“shit.” you laugh, noticing that even rafes underwear is carolina blue.

“team issued.” he clarifies quickly as he pulls you down with him as he falls back onto the bed. your lips press against his as you straddle his hips.

you press your crotch down over his, feeling the way he's already pressing up against your panties.

“god, let me get my mouth on you.” you groan, sinking down to lick and kiss at the grooves of his chest and abs, trying to commit the taste of his skin to memory, not sure if you'll ever have this chance again.

you reach his blue boxers and press your lips against the clear outline of his hard cock, wetting the fabric with your spit before you're sick of the barrier and lean back only to pull the underwear down his thighs.

“fuck.” rafe moans out when your mouth is immediately back on his cock, this time able to put his length into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, quickly setting a rhythm as you try to coax your throat to allow him deeper.

“y/n.” rafe tugs on your hair, and you groan when you're forced to pull away.

“what?” you snap.

“get your ass up here.”

you move quickly, shucking off your panties and moving so your pussy is hovering over rafes face. he looks up at you for a brief second, just to take a breath and stare into your glistening cunt, before his hands are pulling your hips down and your clit onto his awaiting mouth.

you take his cock in your hand, pressing open mouth kisses and licks all over, not sure how well you can blow him when your moans are loud and filling the hotel room.

rafe mumbles something that you can't might make out, but it may be “delicious.” as his mouth devours your pussy, tongue swiping through your folds obsequiously, paying attention to every moan of yours and what causes your pussy to clench.

“fuck.” you groan, hand moving to take over for your mouth as your jaw drops open, stroking up and down his length that makes your cunt squeeze again thinking about having inside you.

rafe pushes your hips away, and before you can argue or control your body, he uses his strong football muscles to flip you into your back and rest your head against the hotel rooms fluffy pillows.

“i need you.” rafe says, reaching towards his wallet on the nightstand and pulling out a condom, tearing it before sinking the rubber over his length.

“fuck yes.” you moan out. who knew exactly what you needed to feel better was to hookup with the player on the opposing team, the rule breaking only making things even more exciting.

rafe grabs your leg and pulls it over his hip before lining up with your entrance. he sinks forward slowly, eyes on your face in case you show any sign of pain.

“you're so fucking warm.” rafe moans out, dropping to kiss you sloppily as his hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you.

he gives you both a minute to adjust before hes hovering over you, strong arms holding himself up as he pounds into you.

“fuck!” you squeal out, one hand gripping the bed sheets while the other reaches up to the headboard, trying to find some stability while he wrecks your pussy.

you hope rafe won't last too long because you can already feel your high building despite not wanting it to be over anytime soon.

one time certainly won't be enough to satisfy you, especially not as you look up at rafes face, still gorgeous and chiseled even as his jaw is slackened as he fucks you with pure pleasure and bliss in his eyes.

“you-” you gasp out. “you feel amazing. so good.”

“damn right i do.” rafe smiles a cocky grin down at you as he somehow manages to speed up even more. “filling you perfectly. this pussy is mine.”

you try (and fail) to not let the words go to your head.

you even briefly think of what your fellow cheerleaders would think if they knew what you were doing right now, how tiffy and steffie would react if they knew just how much that unseen blue has been smeared across your naked body, how much of it is dripping from your cunt.

“im-im not far.” rafe warns, ignoring the cramp in his throwing arm to warn you.

“ffff-” you hold back the urge to curse again as your mind spins. “condom off, please. i need you to cum in me.”

rafe certainly isn't going to argue, even though it might not be the smartest idea. he kneels between your legs, one hand coming to massage your clit while the other pulls the condom off.

rafe strokes himself once before pushing back inside of you, keeping one hand on your clit as your pleasure grows, hips seeming to raise higher and higher off the bed the closer your high gets.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say seconds before he bursts, warm spurts of cum filling your insides, thankfully not being wasted being trapped inside rubber.

the warm filled sensation causes you to tip over the edge too, body shaking as rafe collapses over you, rubbing your clit with his cock lodged inside of you until both your highs have worn out, your pussy sucking and clenching out every bit of cum he has to give.

“god.” rafe rolls off of you and onto his back. “you are fucking amazing.”

“you did most of the work.” you giggle.

“you know.” rafe says as he pulls you into his chest. “you play us at home in three weeks.”

“mmm.” you lift your head up and press a kiss against his jaw before you bare your teeth and nip at his skin. “perfect time for us to get revenge.”

“keep that up and i might just have to tackle you again next game.” rafe laughs, but you just flip over so you're on top of him, straddling his hips as his cock starts to grow again.

“you wouldn't dare.”

“if it gets you in my bed all night then i might.”

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regressionschool · 2 months ago

Text

going full toddler: part 1

Find all other Chapters [here] Marie had no idea what was coming.

She knew Steve had planned a weekend getaway, but the details were still a complete mystery. He had refused to tell her anything beyond the fact that she needed to be ready early in the morning. That, and the way he had smirked as he told her, "Don't pack anything. I've got it all covered," sent shivers down her spine—half excitement, half nervous anticipation.

She had suspicions, of course. Their dynamic had always included elements of CGL and ABDL, but usually, it was within the comfort of their home. This was something different. Bigger.

When Marie woke up that morning, groggy from sleep and stretching lazily in bed, she noticed something immediately—Steve was standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, a warm but firm look in his eyes.

"Good morning, princess," he said smoothly. "Your husband isn’t here today. Just Daddy."

Marie’s stomach flipped, a deep blush rushing to her cheeks. She tucked herself under the blankets instinctively.

Steve only chuckled. "Oh, sweetie, no hiding. We have a long drive ahead of us, and I need to get my little girl ready. Sit up for me."

Marie hesitated, but that teasing lilt in his voice made it impossible to resist. Slowly, she peeked out from under the covers, her heartbeat quickening.

"That's my good girl," he praised, pulling the blanket away completely. "Now, let's get you dressed. No arguments, no fussing. Daddy has everything picked out."

And he did.

Marie watched as he pulled out a soft pink t-shirt with ruffled sleeves—one that barely reached past her belly button—along with a pair of shortalls that fastened at the shoulders. But what really made her squirm was the thick, crinkly diaper he held up, unfolding it with an unmistakable whoosh.

Her face burned. "D-Daddy…"

He only raised an eyebrow. "What’s the rule, little one?"

She swallowed, knowing exactly what he meant. She hadn’t been told the full list of rules yet, but she had been told one thing: this weekend, she was in full toddler mode. Steve—Daddy—was in charge, completely. The only way she could stop anything was with a single word: red.

And she wasn’t going to use it. Not when the butterflies in her stomach were from excitement as much as embarrassment.

Once she was powdered, padded, and dressed, Steve guided her to the vanity and gently pushed her down onto the stool. "There we go. Now, let’s get those pretty hair ties in," he murmured, combing through her hair with practiced ease.

Marie watched in the mirror, her breath catching as he gathered her hair into two high pigtails. With each careful movement of his hands, she felt smaller, sinking deeper into her little space. The final touch came with two pink bows, tied neatly at the base of each pigtail.

The sight of herself—diaper bulging beneath her shortalls, soft pink top, and those childish pigtails—made her feel impossibly small. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, the thick padding reminding her just how little she really was this weekend.

"Perfect," Daddy said, brushing a thumb over her cheek. "Now, let's get you buckled in."

Minutes later, she found herself in the backseat of the car, a sippy cup placed in her lap, her feet swinging slightly over the edge of the seat.

"Comfy, princess?" Steve asked as he adjusted the rearview mirror to catch her face.

Marie squirmed, the thick padding under her making it impossible to ignore her situation. She held onto the sippy cup with both hands, lips pursed. She felt so little already.

"Y-yeah…" she finally mumbled.

Steve clicked his tongue. "Excuse me?"

Marie sucked in a breath, cheeks heating again. "Yes, Daddy…" Marie’s face burned, but she couldn’t stop the excited, happy squirm that ran through her. The trip had just begun, and she had no idea what surprises lay ahead. But she did know one thing for sure—she wasn’t in charge. Not even a little bit. And she loved it.

"That’s my good girl," he praised before pulling out of the driveway.

The gentle hum of the car and the rhythmic passing of trees outside the window soon lulled Marie into a drowsy haze. The soft crinkle beneath her, the lingering warmth of Daddy’s praise, and the comforting weight of the sippy cup in her hands all worked together to pull her into a light sleep.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out when a sudden beep-beep-beep cut through her dreams.

Marie’s eyes fluttered open, disoriented and groggy. The car was still moving, the scenery outside unfamiliar, and for a moment, she forgot where she was.

“Wha—?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes clumsily. Her pigtails tickled her cheeks as she turned her head. “What was that?”

Steve, still focused on the road, glanced at his phone, silencing the alarm with one hand. “Just Daddy’s reminder,” he said casually.

Marie blinked, trying to shake off the sleepiness. Everything still felt fuzzy, the world not quite making sense yet. “Reminder for what?”

Daddy smirked at her through the rearview mirror. “Well, first off—good morning again, sleepyhead.”

She pouted, cheeks warming. “M’not sleepy.”

“Mhmm. That’s why you were snoring a minute ago?”

“I don’t snore!” she whined, kicking her feet against the seat.

Steve picked up the full water bottle from the cupholder beside him and reached back, wiggling it slightly so she could see. "Time to swap out your water, little one. Let’s see that sippy."

Marie blinked, her grip tightening around her current bottle. Her cheeks pinked as she glanced down at it—only half-finished.

Steve raised an eyebrow, his voice playful but firm. "Uh-oh. Someone wasn’t drinking like a good girl."

A deep flush bloomed across Marie’s face. She quickly lifted the sippy to her lips and started sucking, desperate to make up for lost time. The moment the cool water touched her tongue, she realized just how thirsty she actually was.

Steve chuckled. "That’s it, sweetie. Such a good girl for Daddy, drinking all on your own."

The praise sent a wave of warmth through Marie that had nothing to do with the sun outside. She felt impossibly small, gripping the sippy cup with both hands and drinking as eagerly as she could, wanting more of that sweet approval.

By the time she finally lowered the cup, a tiny droplet of water escaped down her chin. She wiped it away quickly, trying to act casual.

Steve reached back again, palm open. "Let me see, princess."

Marie hesitated but handed over the now empty bottle. Without missing a beat, Steve unscrewed the lid and replaced it with the fresh one, tucking the used one into the bag he had stashed on the passenger seat.

"There we go," he said smoothly, placing the full sippy back into her hands. "Fresh water for my little one." Marie looked down at it shyly, feeling something melt inside her at the simple act. Then, as she shifted slightly, she felt something else—the thick padding between her legs pressing snugly against her, crinkling softly with even the smallest movement. The reminder made her squirm some more.

Marie settled back into her seat, her new sippy cup resting against her tummy. She peeked at Steve through the rearview mirror, her lips pursing slightly before she asked, “Daddy… can I have my phone?”

Steve didn’t answer right away. He let the question hang as he merged onto a highway, one hand steady on the wheel while the other tapped the turn signal. Then, he glanced at her reflection, his expression calm but knowing.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said with a smirk, shaking his head slightly. “Toddlers don’t have phones, remember?”

Marie blinked, sitting up straighter. “Wait… you didn’t bring it?”

“Nope,” he said simply. “Left it right on the nightstand where it belongs.”

Her stomach flipped. “But—”

“No buts, little one,” Steve interrupted smoothly. “You don’t need it this weekend. No checking messages, no scrolling, no big-girl distractions. Just you, Daddy, and lots of fun.”

Marie’s mouth opened, then shut again. The realization settled deep in her chest—she really didn’t have her phone. No notifications. No way to check the time. No way to zone out with a quick scroll.

For a moment, it made her feel weirdly exposed. Vulnerable. She wasn’t used to not having it, even when she was in little space. There was always an option to pull herself back into her normal, adult world if she wanted to.

But now…

Now, she really was just Daddy’s little girl.

She fidgeted, her fingers tracing the smooth surface of her sippy cup, eyes downcast. “What if I get bored?” she mumbled.

Steve chuckled. “Sweetheart, you’re a toddler. Toddlers don’t get bored, they just find things to be curious about.”

Marie pouted, but when she looked up, she saw his raised eyebrow in the mirror, and her pout softened.

“Tell you what,” he said, his tone light but still dripping with authority, “why don’t you do what little girls do? Look out the window, watch the trees go by, play with your stuffie.” He nodded toward the soft plush bunny sitting beside her in the seat—another thing she hadn’t noticed he’d packed for her.

Marie huffed, crossing her arms dramatically—but deep down, her tummy flipped at how real this was starting to feel. No phone. No control. Just Daddy making all the decisions.

With a little sigh, she turned her head to the window, pressing her forehead lightly against the cool glass. The world outside blurred past—rolling hills, clusters of trees, the occasional glimpse of farmland. Everything felt so much bigger like this, like she was really just a little girl being taken on a big adventure with no say in where they were going.

Her thumb hovered near her mouth for a second, an old habit from when she was feeling extra small, but she quickly grabbed her bunny instead, hugging it close.

“There’s my good girl,” Steve praised, his voice full of warmth. “See? I bet you’ll notice lots of things outside that you never pay attention to when you’ve got your nose in that phone.”

Marie squirmed at the praise, cheeks warming.

Another hour passes, the steady hum of the car and the rhythmic scenery lulling Marie into a soft daze. She’s already on her third sippy cup of the drive, and it’s finally catching up to her. She squirms in her seat, the thick padding beneath her crinkling softly with every movement.

Steve, watching through the rearview mirror, can see the telltale signs—her knees press together, then apart, then together again. She grips her bunny tight, her fingers kneading at the soft fabric as she wiggles, shifting positions in a futile attempt to distract herself.

And then, she goes still.

For a moment, she clutches her stuffed bunny a little tighter, her breath catching. Then, just as quickly, she exhales, her entire body relaxing into the seat, the tension melting away. The only sound is the faintest sigh, almost imperceptible, followed by the softest, telltale crinkle beneath her.

Steve knows exactly what’s happening.

But he doesn’t say a word.

Instead, he keeps his eyes on the road, hiding his smirk as they continue on. A few miles later, he spots a small rural rest stop—nothing fancy, just a shaded picnic area and a few vending machines beside a winding trail. It’s the perfect place to stretch their legs.

“We’re stopping for a bit, princess,” he announces, pulling off the highway.

Marie blinks, startled from her dazed state. “Oh… okay.”

As the car rolls to a stop, she shifts again, and that’s when she really feels it. The once-dry bulk between her legs is now warm and squishy, pressing against her with every movement. She swallows hard, her cheeks heating up as the reality of it settles in.

But at the same time… she’s oddly glad for the break. A chance to get up and walk around, even if the thick, damp padding is impossible to ignore now.

Steve steps out and comes around to open her door. “Come on, little one. Let’s get those legs moving.”

Marie hesitates, then takes his offered hand, letting him help her out of the car. As she stands, the full weight of the soaked diaper makes her knees wobble slightly, the squishy sensation both foreign and familiar.

She chews her lip, looking up at Steve, but he only gives her a knowing smile. “Feels different now, doesn’t it?” he teases, giving her a playful pat on the bottom.

Her face flames, and she buries it against his chest with a small whimper.

“Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothes, stroking her back. “You’re doing so well for Daddy.”

Marie exhales shakily, letting him guide her away from the car. The walk is a welcome distraction, the gentle movement making her feel a little less self-conscious. They wander toward a quiet corner of the rest stop, Marie clutching Steve’s hand, occasionally stealing glances at him.

She doesn’t have to ask what’s coming next. She knows.

And sure enough, as they reach the car again, Steve gives her that look—the one that makes her tummy flutter.

“Arms up, princess,” he instructs gently.

Marie pouts but obeys, letting him lift her into the backseat. As soon as she’s settled, Steve reaches between her legs, pressing lightly against the front of her shortalls. The moment he does, her cheeks burn, and she squirms, but there’s no hiding it now.

“Such a good girl,” he praises, his voice warm and proud. “Already nice and wet for Daddy.”

Marie whines softly, hiding her face behind her bunny.

Steve chuckles, ruffling her hair before pulling out another full sippy cup from the bag. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

Marie peeks over the bunny, pouting. “But Daddy…”

Steve tilts his head. “But what, little one?”

Her lips press into a thin line, but after a moment, she sighs and reaches for the cup. She knows there’s no getting out of it.

“That’s what I thought,” Steve teases, giving her a playful boop on the nose before buckling her in.

As he pulls onto the highway, he catches her in the mirror again. She has no idea how much further they have to go… or how much fuller that diaper is going to be by the time they get there.

#ab/dl diaper #diaper stories #ab/dl stories #regression school #ab/dl girl #wetting diaper #diaper bulge #ab/dl

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damneddamsy · 23 days ago

Text

falling | joel miller x fem!oc (part v)

summary: Birthday dinners and blues, laughter over a crowded table—and Joel, caught between the past and something new.

a/n: are you ready for your prescribed serotonin boost :) are you reading to die :) are you ready to have your heart broken :) are you ready for pain :) if yes, it's here, and it's fucking good! can you spot where exactly I had a mental breakdown? virtual bear hugs for those who get it!

Joel had faced a lot of things in his life—clickers, raiders, shit ration food, the long, merciless stretch of empty roads—but this?

This might actually do him in.

He sat on the edge of the bed, hands braced on his knees, staring at the open boxes like they might bite. Three whole boxes. Packed full of baby clothes, soft and delicate, in shades too clean for a world like this—pale yellows, powder blues, faded pinks. Those colours didn't belong in this world anymore.

He exhaled hard, dragging a hand down his beard. It was just one of those things, one of those moments where life threw something at him he wasn’t built for anymore. Throwing a punch, taking a knife, breaking his nose—those, he could handle. But picking out a damn dress for a baby?

“This ain’t my thing, baby girl,” he muttered, glancing at Maya sprawled out beside him on the bed. She kicked her legs, fists flailing like she had strong opinions on the matter. The second he walked through the door, she’d lit up, beaming that wide, gummy grin at him like his very existence was the happiest thing in her tiny world.

Joel shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. You ain’t the one stuck pickin’ through all this.”

He waved a hand at the neatly folded mass of tiny expensive dresses, bloomers, and booties, smelling faintly of time and soap. They’d been Leela’s once. That part stuck with him—the fact that these had once clothed her, when she was no bigger than Maya.

His rugged fingers hovered over the fabric, hesitant. Everything was so soft, worn down in the best way—not ragged, but loved. Clothes, to him, had always been practical. Denim, leather, sturdy boots. He’d spent years in a world where softness didn’t last, where anything delicate got torn up, dirtied, or lost. And yet, here it was. Preserved. A little piece of the past, kept safe.

He picked up a tiny white dress with a lace collar, holding it to the light. “This fancy enough for a birthday dinner?” he asked, squinting at Maya. “Hm, looks like your mama's dress, doesn't it? Just missin' those... buttons.”

She just cooed, kicking harder, wiggling like she might crawl right out of the blanket. He set it down and picked up another, something in a buttery yellow with embroidered flowers. Lighter, easier.

“This one. Like a pretty sunflower.”

Maya squealed like she agreed, flailing her arms toward him. Obviously sick of laying there, wanting to be up here with him.

He snorted. “You got strong opinions on style, huh? Don’t take after me, then. I ain’t got a clue.”

And yet, here he was. Doing this. Going through the whole process because Leela had asked him—because it mattered to her. The realization settled in, quiet and solid. He was doing this because he cared. About Maya, sure. But about Leela, too. Enough to sit here, sifting through baby clothes like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He shook his head, picking up a tiny pair of bloomers and setting them aside with the yellow dress. “Guess that’ll do. Don’t want you upstaging your mama.”

Maya gurgled in agreement, and without thinking, Joel reached over, scratching a hand over her belly, feeling the warmth of her through the fabric of her onesie. Happy, just because he was here.

And he was only here because Leela had asked this of him. After all, she was downstairs, turning the kitchen into a goddamn laboratory. She’d been at it since morning, long before he even peeled himself off the pullout in his living room. The kitchen light had been on when he woke up, spilling a soft glow onto the snow outside, and through the open window, he caught glimpses of her—stirring, measuring, dicing and slicing with careful, mathematical precision.

At one point, she’d pulled out a scale. A scale. Like she was preparing for an experiment instead of a birthday dinner. Her own birthday dinner, that is. The one Maria had specifically asked her to butt out of because then it'd be pointless. Don't think Leela caught that part.

He’d spent his morning like that—half-awake, watching her move through the kitchen with the kind of focus that made his chest ache. Maya was strapped against her in a sling, her dozing head tucked beneath Leela’s chin, and her mother’s long braid trailed past her back, swaying with every movement. She barely stopped to sit down.

And Joel—still groggy, still warm from sleep—just lay there, watching.

Watching from the outside. Watching a life that wasn’t his, but could be.

Maybe, in some version of things, he’d be sitting at that damn marble island with her, sipping coffee, watching her openly instead of from behind the glass. Maybe he’d be close enough to tease her about overcomplicating her own birthday meal, close enough that she’d smile that shy smile, but lean into him anyway, chin up for an apology kiss.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to wonder what it would be like—because he’d already know.

He exhaled sharply, shaking the thought off. Right. First things first.

He crouched down, dragging Maya closer to him over the bed, the buttery yellow dress draped over his arm. “Alright, darlin'. Let’s get this over with,” he murmured, slipping her tiny arms through the sleeves. She surprisingly went along with it without a fuss, blinking up at him, her round face curious, watching him.

Joel worked quickly, big fingers clumsy against the delicate buttons, careful not to tug too hard. “Y’know, you make this real easy,” he said to her, smoothing the fabric over her legs. “Your ma ever tell you that? Some little shits scream their heads off over this kinda thing.”

Maya just cooed, trying to catch her toes, like she knew she was being praised.

He snorted, lacing up her brown booties—useless, yet so adorable. “Don’t let it go to your head. You're still trouble.”

With a final adjustment, he lifted her, tucking her against his chest. She fit there like she always did, perfect and warm, her breath puffing against his throat. The second she was settled, her legs kicked in delight, hands curling into the collar of his shirt—habit, just like always.

Joel huffed, pressing a steadying palm against her back. “Beautiful girl,” he whispered, rocking slightly, just enough to keep her from getting squirmy. “Yeah, you are.”

Maya gurgled in response, gripping tighter, like she had any real strength to keep him there. Like she thought she needed to.

Joel didn’t move for a second, standing there, one hand spanning nearly the whole of her back, feeling the tiny rise and fall of her breaths against him. He arched his head to brush a kiss at her ear and turned toward the door.

Then he noticed it. The humungous closet doors were open.

It wasn’t like him to pry, but something about Leela always pulled at his curiosity. He glanced at Maya, as if seeking permission—she only pushed her lips into a pout—so he stepped inside.

Due to lack of better words in his dazed head: it was a rich woman’s closet. Joel had worked on plenty of houses back in the day, done high-end custom storage, and seen his fair share of luxury—but he’d never been around long enough to see it lived in.

Drawers lined one wall, sleek and built into the cabinetry. Rows of dresses, coats, scarves, bags, and belts filled another. Shoes—so many shoes—lined the shelves, some still wrapped in plastic, some broken in just enough to show which ones were loved. In the centre, a long glass table gleamed under the dim light, scattered with jewellery. Diamonds, rubies, and jade sat in their cases like they belonged behind some jeweller’s counter instead of lying out like an afterthought.

Maya made a soft, curious sound, leaning forward in fascination. Joel caught her before she could squirm right out of his arms. "Woah, kiddo."

His attention snagged on the dress draped over the table, carefully selected from the clutter.

Black. Velvet. Long-sleeved. Nothing flashy. No lace, no frills, no shimmer. Just smooth, short, heavy fabric, dark as ink, the kind that’d cling in all the right places. Understated, sure—but that only made it worse.

Joel swallowed, jaw tightening. Christ, that can't be it, can it?

But Leela didn’t dress up much. Hell, he was used to seeing her in practical things—thick holey sweaters, clean jeans, and overstretched socks. Even the night dresses she wore were simple, easy. Unbearably cute.

But this? This was intentional. This was her putting thought into it, picking something that would fit her like a fucking glove. Black so stark against her skin, those big eyes, her legs. And Joel—he needed to stop thinking about that immediately.

He shifted Maya in his arms, clearing his throat like that’d help steady him. She was still staring, as if equally entranced, her small hands flexing toward the diamonds glinting under the glass table. He sighed, pressing a kiss to her temple as he stepped back.

“Don’t even, sweetheart,” he muttered. “I ain't raisin’ no flashy tastes in you.”

She gurgled in protest, kicking her feet, and Joel took that as his cue to get the hell out of there.

Now mind you, the past two weeks had been a state of grace.

He didn’t know what else to call it—what else to call the way he found himself here more often than not, the way it felt more natural by the day. He wasn’t just some frequent visitor anymore or a guest, or that guy who'd come around to hover with his tools. If he wasn’t on patrol, he was here with them. Even after patrol, he still ended up on their porch, dropping his rifle and pack by the door before stepping inside like it was just a given.

Hell, it kind of was. A little 'honey, I'm home' moment, if he really brooded on it.

Breakfast. Dinner. Sometimes all three meals, if time allowed. And they’d sit together on the kitchen stools, him and Leela, Maya on either of their laps, silent but companionable, sharing the space like it had been carved out for them alone. They didn't talk about much, sometimes Joel would hit her with a 'back-in-the-day' spiel, or Leela would inform him what happened in her workshop, though most of it went over his head. He liked to listen hard when she spoke, especially when she gave so little. And each morning to come, each evening in leave, Joel would feel it—that want, quiet but persistent, tugging at him, already pulling him into the next day.

Even Leela was eating again. Not much, but enough. It relieved him that she hadn't entirely given up on herself. He noticed the way she still picked at her food sometimes, however delicious it was, pushing it around more than eating it, and he never said a word. Just let her be, let her do what she could. He’d take what he could get.

There were moments, though—times when she got stuck in her own head as if phantom hands had reached out, clawed in and dragged her back to whatever had put her here in the first place. He’d see it clearest when she nursed Maya, like something about it sent her spiralling inward, caught in something he couldn’t see. But he could pull her back to him. He quickly learned how.

“Hey.” His voice was always low, careful, like he was trying not to spook a horse. And then a distraction, a lifeline. “How about I get us a cut of lamb again tomorrow? Y’know, those meatballs you made last week?”

Her eyes would clear, focusing again. “Yeah. Koftas.” And that smile would come alive, trademarked in his name. “Did you like them?”

“Too much. Hits the spot.”

It helped that Leela was a stupidly good cook. It wasn’t about the skill or the recipes—though she sure as hell knew her way around those—it was the way she did it. The way she measured things down to the last goddamn granule, cut with a precision that could’ve put surgeons to shame. She had a scale drawn onto her chopping board, and every damn herb on her windowsill was labelled like she was running a test kitchen instead of a home. He thought about it sometimes and had to bite back a smile.

"Is there anything you can't do?" he'd asked her once while stuffing his face with generously salted roast potatoes he'd passionately complimented. "I dunno, deadlift three thousand kilos? Roofing? Fix a busted engine? I bet that's nothin' to you."

She'd laughed, aimlessly twirling her fork in her hands. "Hmm... I'm quite inartistic. I can't strum a guitar as well as you. I can't sing or dance either."

"I'll give you five days until you're a pro guitarist," he challenged playfully.

She tilted her head. “I don’t know, Joel. Now that I think about it, I might be a lost cause.”

He scoffed. “Bullshit. You learned how to do everything else, didn’t you?”

She shook her head, smiling. “Not everything. You make me sound like some superhero.”

Joel stabbed another potato with his fork. “Nah, I bet you’d pick it up fast.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” He chewed, swallowed. “You got the... hands for it.”

Leela looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers like she could see what he meant. She had the prettiest fingers, long, soft, wide nails that would've graced those fancy designs once upon a time, and pale nerves coiling over lean bone. Jesus, he really was losing it.

“You say that like you’ve given it some thought,” she mumbled.

Joel just shrugged, lying through his teeth. “Not that much thought.”

Her mouth quirked, but she didn’t push. Just filled his cup with more water. “I still don’t think I could do it.”

“Why?”

She tapped the prongs of her fork against her plate. “I don’t know. I guess… it’d feel too good. And then I’d have to wonder why I spent so many years not doing it.”

Joel watched her, the way her fingers fidgeted, the way her eyes had gone elsewhere. He thought about telling her that was the whole damn point. That just because you hadn’t done something before didn’t mean you didn’t deserve to now.

Instead, he just said, “Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

She met his eyes, and after a second, she nodded. “Yes. I do.”

And the way she stated it—gentle, effortless, like it was unmistakable—had Joel suddenly very interested in his plate again.

Then there was little Maya. His ray of sunshine. Growing like a wildflower, changing in ways he barely had time to keep up with. And he was there to see it. More than that—he was there for it.

Like that day, sprawled on the living room carpet beside her, lying flat on his back while Leela worked at the blackboard nearby, mumbling numbers under her breath at miles per hour, the scratch of chalk entwined with the dusty warble of Merle Haggard on the record player. Just another quiet moment, another stretch of time folded in between everything else.

Until Maya grabbed at his hand.

Her fingers curled tight, her little voice rising in breathy coos, calling for his attention. And then—just like that, way too ahead of schedule—she twisted, flipped herself over onto her front, and grinned at him like she’d just conquered the goddamn world. All that, in scarcely three months. The kid's going to be a genius just like her mama.

“Shit!” Joel breathed, pushing up on one elbow. “Daggum, girl. C'mere. That was really good, baby, real nice. You're just perfect, aren't you?”

She grinned wider, pleased with herself, kicking her legs against the carpet. He lifted her right off and plunged her in the air, pulling out a happy squeal. He brought her all the way down to push three deep kisses into her bunched cheeks.

Leela turned, brows raised, eyes flicking between them.

“Finally rolled over, she's been trying for weeks,” he told Leela, laughing, out of breath.

“Oh,” she mouthed. “Rolled over?”

“Oughta get a picture or somethin’,” he muttered, still looking at Maya, pride swelling in his chest in a way he hadn’t expected. He ran a hand over her downy-soft hair. “It’s a milestone. Turnin’ point, as I say.” The pun slipped out before he could stop it, and he cursed Ellie in his head.

Leela just blinked at him. Like it hadn’t even occurred to her. And maybe it hadn’t. Because, later that night, without a word, she passed him a little silver digital camera and said he spent more time with Maya than she did.

Joel had caught her elbow before she could walk away. His voice came out quieter than he meant it to as he told her, “You’re doin’ a great job at being her mom. It's not just me here.”

It didn’t help, not the way he expected to. She just nodded, scooped up Maya, and left the room.

That was the thing about Leela.

She didn’t believe it. She didn’t think she was in a position to care for another person. Like she was still caught somewhere in between—stuck in the space between whatever hell had given her Maya and the life she was trying to build around her.

She didn’t even have to say it. Joel saw it.

He saw it in the way she tried. The way she forced herself to be soft, forced herself to hold Maya just right, forced herself to soothe her, talk to her, to touch her like it was second nature instead of something she had to teach herself from scratch. It was in the way she hesitated when Maya reached for her like she wasn’t sure she deserved to be needed. It was in the way she lingered outside the nursery door some nights, just standing there, like she was working up the nerve to go inside.

It wasn’t easy for her. But she tried. Joel marvelled at that, her patience despite whatever tormented her. And yeah, progress was slow, but it was there.

Joel’s boots scuffed against the freshly washed mat at the foot of the stairs—he’d done that himself, thanks for fuckin’ noticing—as he made his way to the kitchen. Leela was crouched in front of the oven, arms wrapped around her shins, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

He leaned against the doorframe, smirking. “Somethin’ wrong, or you just real interested in watchin’ bread bake?”

He barely had time to brace himself before the scent hit him—sweet and sugary, with a crispness that wasn’t quite like bread or cake, something lighter, airier.

Leela still didn’t look up. Whatever was in that oven had its hooks in her.

Joel pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer, bending just enough to peer in. White. Puffy. Looked like a cloud. “The fuck is that?”

“Pavlova.” Her voice was muffled against her knees.

He squinted at it. “Uh-huh. The fuck is that?”

She exhaled, shifting just enough to glance at him. “For Eton mess.”

Joel lifted a brow. “You just sayin’ words at me now, smartass?”

She huffed a quiet laugh, but there was something in her posture—the way she kept her nose tucked between her knees, fingers lightly gripping her calves. She was nervous.

“It’s meringue,” she admitted lowly, like she didn’t want to say it too loud in case that made it collapse in the oven. “It’s delicate. Needs to set just right.”

Joel straightened, rubbing at his jaw. “So it’s just sugar?”

Her mouth twitched the closest thing to a smile she could manage while preoccupied. “And egg whites.”

“Ah, so fancy sugar.”

“Trust me, you'll love it.”

He snorted, ready to argue—but then Maya leaned in against his chest, watching them with big, curious eyes, her tiny hands reaching for the oven knobs. She was getting handsier every day.

Leela finally turned, and for the first time, she really saw Maya, and took her in—the tiny white dress, the soft embroidery, the way her dark eyes blinked down at her with nothing but unfiltered, open-mouthed joy. No fear. No hesitation. Just love for her mama, plain and easy.

And just like that, Leela’s whole face softened. Melted, almost.

“Oh, Maya,” she breathed, reaching for her. “You look so pretty. Aw, my sweetheart.”

She scooped the baby out of his arms without a second thought, cradling her close, and tucking her against her shoulder. Her fingers ran through the fine baby hair at the nape of Maya’s neck, gentle, reverent, like she was trying to memorize her.

Then, before Joel even knew what was happening, she leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Maya’s forehead.

Not him. Oh, never him. But he felt it anyway. It relaxed in his chest, warm and unwanted, curling into the space he’d been trying real damn hard to keep empty. Like a ghost of something he wasn’t allowed to want.

He forced himself to look away, exhaling through his nose, adjusting his stance like that might shake the feeling off. It didn’t. Because the truth was—he’d thought about it. Too much. Too often.

The way she tilted her chin when she looked at him, how her mouth softened when she spoke to Maya, the bare curve of her throat when she laughed—all of it had lodged itself in his head, taken up space like it belonged there. And the worst of it?

He’d imagined it. His own mouth against hers. Slow and deep, catching the breath between her words, pulling that softness into him, feeling the curve of her spine, the softness of her hair twisted into his fingers.

And it was fucking ridiculous. But it didn’t stop him from thinking about it. Didn’t stop the way his gaze snagged on the spot where her lips had just been, where his had been too—because yeah, he’d kissed that exact place on Maya’s cheek before. More than once.

That was different, though. Right? Had to be.

His hands flexed at his sides, restless, needing something to do. He settled on the island, finally taking in what was right in front of him.

And, Jesus. Five trays. At least.

Stacked and spread out across the counter, gleaming under the low kitchen lights. There was no rhyme or reason to it—roast lamb chops, some kind of stewed eggplant, rice flecked with peanuts and saffron, a whole mess of things he didn’t recognize.

Still, she was gonna lose her goddamn mind. Not because Leela had transcended her at her own game—but because she’d cooked her own birthday dinner. Like she didn’t know how to sit still, even for that, or that she couldn’t let people do for her the way she did for them.

Joel shook his head, dragging a hand down his beard. One of those things. Something about Leela that made sense and didn’t, all at once.

“I’m going to go get dressed before Maria gets here,” she said, finally pulling his attention back to her.

Then, casually, like it was nothing, like it didn’t send something tight curling in his gut, she added, “I laid something out for you, too. If you'd like to wear something nice.”

And then she was gone, disappearing down the foyer, leaving Joel standing there, staring after her like an idiot. Like a man in deeper than he had any right to be.

Joel had thought long and hard about what to get Leela for her thirtieth, and it had damn near driven him mad.

He wasn’t good at gifts. He wasn’t good at a lot of things, really—at knowing what people wanted, at knowing how to give without feeling like he was handing over pieces of himself. It felt impossible.

What the hell do you give someone who already has everything—even in the goddamn apocalypse?

Leela didn’t need anything. She had a home, one of the nicer, better-built ones, passed down to her like an heirloom. She had clothes, ones she patched up herself, sewn with delicate little stitches. She had music, kept safe on a high shelf, and books stacked in neat piles by the fireplace. She had cars, she had diamonds just sitting up there in a closet, and she even had her own plants thriving.

She had all that and more. So, yeah. He’d considered it all. Clothes. Music. Books. Lights. Pictures. A cat, even. Something that meant something. Significant.

And then, out on patrol, he’d found it.

A cherry tree. Growing wild, untamed, tucked between dense brush and the gnarled twist of maple roots. Dark fruit hanging low, the weight of them bending the branches, like they were waiting for him.

At first, he’d strolled right past it. Just a tree. Just cherries.

And then he’d stopped, brows furrowed. He’d remembered the way she wove them into her life. The careful little cherry embroideries, the tiny red-painted symbols on her sugar and salt tubs, the delicate pattern etched everywhere.

She loved them. Enough to keep them close. Enough to mark them as hers. And so, like a damn fool, he’d kneeled and plucked them.

In a few hours, he'd picked the whole thicket clean. He’d stuffed them into his jacket pockets, let them fill the space in his backpack, red staining the fabric, fingers sticky and sweet with their juice.

It had felt right at the time. He'd felt so proud of himself. She was going to love the shit out of this.

Now, standing by the front door, having Tommy and Maria say that they'd managed to acquire a goddamn Polaroid camera for her—yellowed with age, probably out of photo paper but still lasting—Joel felt like a massive fucking idiot.

At least their gift had value. At least it wasn’t perishable. But, she already has a digital camera, his conscience reasoned with him. Sure, but especially to her, it was the thought that counted. She wouldn't be out here, letting Joel borrow cashmere sweaters and luxury denim on the fly.

And then Ellie had showed off her gift—another layer of shit over his confidence—a handmade journal, stitched together with patience and effort, thick pages bound in soft, timeworn leather. Thoughtful. Meaningful. Her best friend, Dina, definitely had a hand in this. Ellie didn't have the patience to craft something this considerate.

And Joel was the one to talk—well, Joel had a box of cherries. Fucking cherries. Cherries he’d spent hours picking, his fingers raw, his back aching for two days straight. Cherries he’d plucked in pairs, stems still intact, trying to mimic the little embroidered ones she stitched into her life. He’d thought he was being thoughtful. Now, how the fuck was he supposed to compete with journals and cameras?

So he did what any man with an ounce of self-preservation would do.

He pretended they didn’t exist. Let them sit out on the little porch shelf where he’d left them, where he figured he’d grab them when the time was right. Except now, the time wasn’t right. Never will be. And he’d just let them sit there forever, let the cold creep into them, let them wrinkle and rot and become another thing he never got around to.

Better to just let everyone think he was a callous, inconsiderate bastard than actually admit he’d put his heart into something. Easier that way.

As Maria and Ellie jogged upstairs, loud and chattering, off to greet the birthday girl and Maya, Joel made his way into the kitchen—only to get cornered by Tommy’s knowing look. That damn eyebrow, he got that from their dad.

Joel ignored him. Busied himself with laying foil over that one lonely tray, the rhythm of his hands methodical, grounding. It wasn’t until Tommy leaned against the counter, arms folded, voice low and amused, that he finally spoke.

“I knew you hated sappy shit, big brother, but this is a new low.”

Joel exhaled slowly, flattening the foil more aggressively than necessary. “Not now, Tommy.”

“Not now,” Tommy mimicked in a baritone, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You couldn’t even get her somethin’ small? The girl was ready to let you move in, for cryin' out loud.”

Joel didn’t answer.

“Hell, Maya, at least?”

That one stung. He didn’t know why. And somehow, the thought of that bothered him more than the idea of disappointing Leela. Maybe because he could take being an asshole to her. Could brush it off, let her think he was callous, numb. That was easy, safe.

But Maya? She was just a baby. His little girl. This tiny thing with nothing in the world except her mother, who carried all the pain and all the worry, while Joel sat on his hands and pretended like he wasn’t thinking about them more than he should.

He pressed down on the foil harder, smoothing out creases that weren’t there. He could feel Tommy watching him, expectant, waiting.

“Right,” Tommy sighed, knowing what to expect. “I’m gonna go drain the lizard.”

He scowled, finally looking up. “That's some real dignified talk. Better tone it down at dinner.”

His brother just grinned with a playful salute, disappearing down the hall.

Joel stomped his way into the dining room, fists stuffed into his pockets. Not because he knew what the hell he was even looking for, but because he had to move. The ache in his chest was getting to be too much, and if he sat with it any longer, he might actually have to acknowledge it.

Leela had transformed the shit out of this dining room, and Joel took it all in. Candles flickered across the table, their golden light pooling over the wood, catching on the edges of intricate ceramic plates, and warming the dark corners of the room. The food that Leela had slaved away to make was spread out, lavish, rich, the kind of meal that had no business existing in a world that had already ended. As if this little town, this home, was untouched by the decay beyond its walls.

The blackened, humungous yard outside those slightly gaumed French windows—he ought to get around to that this week—was paved with a clean sheet of snow, and it was clear what lay under it. A manifold garden of some sort, from the cursive-letter markers sticking out from the ice. And a pond, maybe.

It was all so soft. Painstaking. Conscious. Like everything Leela touched.

A sudden thrum of light, breathless, girlish laughter echoed from upstairs, Ellie's the most rambunctious of the lot, obviously having fun with that new camera.

“Maya, smile...” Then later, “Ha-ha, she's got no fuckin' teeth!”

It flushed a small smile of his own at the sound. He hadn’t heard that kind of laughter in years. Not since Sarah. Not since the days when she and her friends had holed up in her room, voices tumbling through the walls, their shrill giggles slipping into his evenings, melding with his exhaustion, belonging there, like a part of his house itself.

Back then, he’d barely noticed it. In fact, he'd wanted them to shut the hell up so he could focus on paperwork. He’d never thought to savour it. And now? Now it pressed against the deepest crevices in him, brittle and aching, something he couldn’t touch without it breaking apart in his hands. It still hurt like hell.

And then, as dinner time neared, the big room filled out—oh, Joel hadn't meant to look. Hadn’t meant to let his eyes linger that way. Fuck, he forgot how Leela was going to be tonight.

No. He dragged his eyes from her, yet the image remained seared into his head.

But there she was, standing at the far end of the room, completely different and exactly the same.

That velvet dress—Jesus Christ, he needed air.

He’d known it’d be trouble the second he saw it. It fit too well, soft in places he shouldn’t be noticing, snug over her hips, floating around her legs bare, smooth, unfairly right there. Her usual braid was pulled back tight, but a few strands had already come loose, slipping against her cheek, catching at her collarbone, and softening her face. A thin strand of pearls nestled at her neck—simple, understated. Like she was one of those lunching ladies in country clubs, lugging their crocodile leather bags, and clutching their pearls. Fucking adorable now that it registered, she was probably dressed like what she'd seen her mother wear back then.

And in another life, a girl like her would’ve walked right past a man like him. Would’ve mistaken him for a valet. Would’ve never even looked at him. He should be thanking his stars that the world went to shit and brought him her.

Joel clenched his jaw, forced his gaze away, and focused on the room instead. Maya, the real star of the show, was being passed off between the rest like a pack of smokes, her little chubby arms reaching, everyone cooing, fussing over her pretty, new dress.

Everywhere except. Leela...

She had drifted toward the bar cart at the edge of the room, breaking out the good stuff. He glimpsed the label—vintage Pinot Noir, knotty French scramble and expensive as hell. Didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except that somehow, without even thinking, he’d ended up standing beside her.

And when she looked up—she smiled at him. Small, a little shy, the kind of smile that said she was nervous for no reason at all.

“Hi, Joel.” Her hand smoothed down her stomach as if flattening that cute little belly bulge, fixing something that didn’t need fixing. “Do I look okay?” she murmured, hesitant. “Is it too much? It is, isn't it?”

Too much? For him, fuck yes. Fine? Fine wasn’t even in the same goddamn ballpark.

So, he opened his mouth. Closed it. Nothing.

“No.” A beat. “You…”

Nothing again. He was drawing a blank. The words dried up before they even had the chance to form, like dust in his mouth.

It wasn’t like he was trying to be poetic about it, but there was nothing in his head that felt close to good enough. No simple word, no half-mumbled compliment that could measure up to her tonight.

Leela stood in front of him, shifting slightly, looking down, constantly pressing her palm over her stomach like she was suddenly self-conscious. She was always incredible. She always knew her way around things. That wasn’t news.

But tonight, she just...—his jaw tightened. He wasn’t even gonna let himself finish that thought. His throat worked as he opened his mouth again, ready to force something out, anything—

“God, this smells fucking delicious!” Ellie’s voice tore through the moment, shattering it.

Leela startled slightly, before blinking, exhaling a soft laugh, and looking away. And just like that, the moment was gone.

The next thing he knew, everyone had settled in, chairs scraping against the wood, good wine flowing, voices overlapping, the liquor kicking in, laughter beginning. The candlelight flickered against the dishes, the soft golden glow catching on deep greens, bright reds, and the spread of food that looked like something out of a damn painting.

Joel wasn’t even sure where to start, but Ellie had no such problem. She was going to town, her plate stacked high, fork stabbing into rice and lamb and eggplant, making a goddamn mess of herself.

Maya sat in her lap, eyes wide, fists curled into her mouth, watching every movement with a sort of blank curiosity, like she was studying some unknown species.

Joel almost smirked. Baby girl had better instincts than most.

Meanwhile, Maria was not having it. She sat back in her chair, arms folded, watching Leela with something sharp in her gaze.

“Why would you cook your own birthday dinner? I told you to let me handle it.”

Leela shrugged, reaching for Joel’s plate once more. He barely had time to grab his plate back before she was scooping more roast potatoes onto it. Christ. At this rate, she was gonna have him fattened up like a prize hog by the end of the night.

“I had to say thanks to all of you somehow,” Leela murmured, matter-of-fact like it truly was that simple. Like, it wasn’t the most Leela thing in the world. “For everything you did for Maya and me. Thank you.”

Maria sighed, shaking her head, but before she could say anything, Tommy beat her to it.

“Honey, there’s no thanks between family. You just take it and be happy about it.” His laugh was muffled by a sip of his wine.

Leela, in the middle of reaching for another serving spoon, paused. And Joel saw it—the way she responded. It was subtle. Not a gasp, not anything dramatic, but something small. The way her lips parted, just slightly, like she wasn’t sure if she should smile like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to. He let his own smile grace his face as he did.

Before he could think on it too much, he caught movement from the corner of his eye—Leela, still standing, still serving, still doing everything but eating.

Joel set down his glass with purpose.

“Sit down.” His voice was low, and firm, leaving no room for argument as he grabbed the spoon from her hand and dropped it onto a tray. “Eat. They're grown-ups, they can serve themselves.”

Leela sighed and sat. Finally. “Okay.”

Joel didn’t give her much choice, pressing the chair in behind her knees, setting her plate in front of her like it was law. He caught the flicker of hesitation, the way she lingered as if she had something else to do, something else to fix. But there was nothing left. The food was hot, everyone was fed, and she was out of excuses.

He scooped a little of everything onto her plate, careful not to overdo it, careful to leave out the eggplant. He didn’t know when he’d learned that about her, just that he had. And she didn’t object, just picked at what landed in front of her, moving the food around with her fork. She didn’t eat right away, not really.

Maria, Tommy, Ellie, and Joel had a rhythm. They talked over each other, ribbed each other, passed stories back and forth like well-worn cards, easy and unthinking. They'd raised a toast to the birthday girl, Maya's new dress, this astonishing dinner, Joel smiling for once—it felt… safe. Loud, but not in a way that grated. Just lived-in.

He wasn’t sure what she thought of all this. Maybe it was too much, too loud, too different from what she was used to.

Especially when Tommy, halfway through a sip of whiskey, nearly choked and gawked at her. "Wait, wait—back up. You didn't know turnin’ thirty was a big deal?"

Leela blinked, clearly lost. "Why would it be? It’s just… a number."

Tommy clutched his chest like she’d stabbed him. "Oh, Jesus. Joel, tell her. Tell her what happens when you turn thirty."

Joel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glancing at her, smirking. "Your knees start makin’ noises you ain’t never heard before. The hangovers last three to five business days. And suddenly—" he jabbed a finger at Tommy, "—this clown starts talkin’ about cholesterol like it’s the Grim Reaper."

Tommy pointed back at him, indignant. "It is the Grim Reaper! You think I like checkin’ my blood pressure for fun?"

Leela stared between them, unimpressed. "So, you’re telling me turning thirty means getting old and miserable?"

Joel shrugged. "Pretty much."

Tommy raised his glass. "Welcome to the club, darlin’. It’s all downhill from here."

Leela huffed a small laugh, shaking her head, but Joel could feel her eyes on him. Not in an obvious way—Leela wasn’t like that. But he could tell. The way she always tucked herself into the background, listening instead of talking, watching instead of stepping in.

Like she was still trying to figure out how all of this worked. How they worked. And Ellie, for one, was having the time of her life.

She jabbed a finger at Joel, like she was about to make some grand accusation. "I swear, it’s like clockwork! Dude’s got, like, five phrases in rotation. Seriously, he's some old Western cowboy stuck in a fucking time loop. It’s insane."

Joel exhaled sharply, already tired. “The hell are you talkin’ about, girl?”

Maria smirked, leaning in like she knew exactly where this was going. “Go on, let’s hear it.”

“That one didn't count. You ready? Okay, let's go.” Ellie straightened in her chair, cleared her throat dramatically, and then—“‘Ain’t my first rodeo.’”

Tommy barked a laugh. Maria made a face that said, damn, that was actually a good one. Joel just shook his head, but he didn’t argue.

Ellie pushed on with that wicked smirk. “‘Coulda told you that one.’”

That got Maria and Tommy good, they were already in fits. Joel sighed, reaching for his glass. Meanwhile, Leela pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

“See? See?” Ellie counted on her fingers, riding the high. “‘You ain't gonna like the answer.’ Huh, Tommy?”

Tommy wiped at his mouth, shoulders shaking. “Shit.”

Joel took a drink, resisting the urge to bang his head against the table. That one was sadly dead on.

Joel scoffed, shaking his head, but Tommy only leaned forward, grinning wide. “Oh, oh, what about ‘Never said I was a good man’?”

Ellie, inspired, went for the kill. “Right, yes! And my personal favourite, ‘Shit’s fucked,’ obviously.”

That one did it.

Maria actually turned away, full-on wheezing hard. Tommy clapped a hand on the table, throwing his head back to roar out a laugh.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, reaching for his whiskey. “Table’s turned against me.”

He flicked his gaze to Leela, watching her reaction—like maybe if she thought it was funny, it would be worth the humiliation.

She met his eyes over the rim of her glass, her expression unreadable for a beat, then—slowly, her lips curved. She took a sip of her water like she was trying to hide it, but he caught the way her eyes softened, the way she tucked her chin slightly, almost sheepish.

Leela finally spoke, her voice a soft, amused murmur. “I think they just know you too well, Joel. It's nice.”

Joel paused mid-sip, watching her as she turned back to her plate, finally taking a bite.

It was a simple thing, but the words sat with him. It wasn’t just that they were teasing him. It was the fact that she was here, part of it, taking it in, letting herself be in this moment. He realized then—that Leela had spent so much time holding herself apart, hovering at the edges of things, always wary. Not tonight.

Joel exhaled, shaking his head like he wasn’t entertained, even though the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Whole lotta talk for a bunch of ingrates,” he muttered. “Maybe I oughta keep my words to myself. See how y’all fare without my wisdom.”

“Your wisdom? Are you fucking kidding?” Maria scoffed, still wiping at her eyes. “Joel, the day we take life advice from you—”

“Will be the day the world actually ends,” Tommy finished, reaching for his drink. “Again.”

Ellie snorted, still looking way too pleased with herself. “Go on, old man. Say something profound.”

Joel didn’t dignify that with an answer, just took another sip of whiskey, glancing at Maya on Ellie's lap. That same warmth ravaged him for a moment.

But when he looked to his side again, his eyes found Leela. She wasn’t laughing like the rest of them—not outright. No sharp, teasing glances, no knee-slapping or head-shaking.

Just that same small, quiet smile, the kind that broke his fucking heart in two.

He wasn’t sure how long they looked at each other, just that he noticed how the candlelight softened her features, how her fingers smoothed over the rim of her glass absentmindedly, how her braid had loosened slightly throughout the night, one long stray wisp of hair curling by her shoulder. God, she took his breath away.

And then he noticed the table. Maria. Tommy. Even Ellie. Side-eying and smirking like damn fools.

Joel scowled, bracing himself. “What now?”

“Not a damn thing,” Tommy said, though the way he fought back a grin suggested otherwise.

Ellie waggled her brows. “Oh, no, you just—look really wise right now.”

Joel fought the urge to groan, letting his head tip back slightly. “No, really. Thank you.”

Leela shifted, clearing her throat, poking at her plate like she wanted to disappear into it.

Tommy looked like he had more to say, something locked and loaded, but before he could get it out, across the table, Maya started to fuss, her hands curling and uncurling toward the plates on the table, making that small, needy noise. Baby girl was the centre of attention, as always. She had a way of pulling eyes to her without even trying like the whole world naturally revolved around her.

But the moment Maria chimed in, her voice carrying easily over the table—“Maya, honey”—that was when it happened.

Her eyes snapped up, searching the table with a determination far too strong for someone so small. Her fingers flexed, hands opening and closing in that telltale way, reaching, waiting—and then Maria tried something else, something that shouldn’t have stood out, except—

“You wanna say hi to Joel?”

The second it left her mouth, Maya’s little head swivelled, locking onto him with that same urgency, that same expectation. Maya made a soft, almost questioning noise, like she was waiting for something, her arm stretching further, fingers still curling and uncurling.

He didn’t even think about it. Didn’t think about how much she knew him now. How his name meant something to her, how she was already learning that when she reached, he would be there.

“Ugh. But I just got you,” Ellie clucked her tongue, bouncing Maya slightly. “Can’t believe this, you're straight-up ditching me for a fogey. Breaking my heart, kid.”

“Guess she's just sick of you, kid,” Joel teased.

“Shut up.”

Maya squirmed, unsatisfied, her arm stretching further. Then came that stubborn cry, the kind Joel had long since learned to recognize—the warning before real tears, before she got herself all worked up.

And, well, he had tried to resist it before. Tried to tell himself to let her be, that she needed to settle on her own, that he wasn’t supposed to get her used to always having him right there. Didn’t matter one fucking bit. The minute those eyes got glassy, he was already reaching across the table.

"C'mere, baby girl," he muttered, hands steady as he lifted her from Ellie’s grasp. “There you go. Hi.”

She melted against him instantly, her warm little body pressing into his chest, a fist curling into the fabric of his shirt. He barely had time to adjust before she shoved both hands into her mouth, hiding that big, gummy grin like she was suddenly shy.

He chucked her chin. "Happy now?"

Maya let out a tiny giggle, then dropped her head forward against his shoulder, burrowing in, pressing her face into his collar like she wanted to disappear inside him.

"Yeah, that tracks," Ellie said, smirking. "Guess she just likes dinosaurs."

Joel only fed the fire. "I think it's my rugged good looks."

That drew out a few annoyed groans around him.

Ellie snickered. "Not that she’s got much to compare to, though.”

It was a silly joke. A throwaway line. She didn't know any better.

But Joel felt it shift the air at the table, quiet but undeniable, like the slow pull of a storm rolling in.

Leela’s grip on her fork tightened, her knuckles paling around the metal. It was barely a reaction. Just the barest pause. A slow blink, calculated and measured, like she was pushing something down, pressing it deep, locking it behind her ribs before it could surface.

But Joel caught it. He wasn’t sure what it was—not exactly. He only knew the way it felt. The way a sharp sense of awareness dug into the back of his skull, the way his chest clenched, like something inside him had just brushed against a wound he hadn’t known was there.

Maria noticed, too. She shot Ellie a look. Just a quick, subtle thing, but full of meaning.

Ellie’s chewing slowed, the realization dawning. "Shit. Sorry," she muttered, suddenly fascinated with her plate. “I'm so sorry, Leela. I wasn’t trying to—”

Leela’s voice was too even, barely managing the dismissive smile. “It’s alright, Ellie. It's nothing.”

It wasn’t. She was practically forcing this lie out of her mouth.

She pushed her chair back. “I’ll go... um, be right back.”

Joel caught the way she moved—not hurried, not frantic, just a little too controlled, like she was forcing herself not to make it obvious that she needed to get out of there.

He should’ve stood. Should’ve gone after her, said something, done something.

Maria was already moving. “Let me check on her,” she said softly, chair scraping against the floor as she followed Leela through the kitchen doors.

Joel exhaled, slow through his nose.

The warmth of the meal, the easy hum of conversation—it all dissipated like heat off an open plate, leaving only the scrape of utensils, the occasional clink of glass. The space Leela left behind stretched thin, like a too-wide gap in a picket fence.

Ellie exhaled, pressing the heel of her palm against her forehead. “I really wasn’t trying to… god, I have such a big fucking—”

Joel adjusted Maya in his arms who was busy combing fleece off the expensive cashmere on his chest. “Ain’t your fault, kid. 'S’all right. Just a touchy subject.”

He didn’t look at her when he said it. Just kept his eyes on the rim of his whiskey glass, watching the candlelight slice through the amber liquid.

Because it was the truth. It wasn’t Ellie’s fault. That didn’t mean he wasn’t wishing he could take back that moment, wipe it clean. Like smudging out a scuff on a wood floor—pretending it had never been there at all.

Ellie nodded, but her fork just scraped uselessly at the plate, pushing food around in slow, absent-minded circles. She curled in on herself, shoulders drawn tight.

Tommy cleared his throat, voice pushing for something lighter. “Think it’s time we brought out dessert, huh? Said it was some trifle or somethin’.”

The words hovered, waiting for someone to catch onto them, and keep the momentum going. But no one did.

Joel didn’t answer either. He just tipped his whiskey back, letting the burn roll slow down his throat.

“Ah, what the hell,” Tommy muttered, scratching at his jaw.

Joel barely registered it. His mind wasn’t here. It was behind that door, past the threshold of the kitchen, where Maria had gone.

He should’ve been the one to follow. But Maria knew better. Knew when to step in, when to let someone walk away without pressing.

And Joel—Joel just sat there, gripping his glass too tight, holding Maya closer, listening to the faint rattle of silverware, the flicker of candlelight, the distant creak of the floorboards in the kitchen.

The moment had died out. They just hadn’t called it yet.

Maya's nursery looked different now.

It used to be dim and quiet, a place half-lived in, half-abandoned—just a room with a crib shoved into it, like it didn’t belong there. Like she didn’t belong there.

Now, it felt like a home. A place meant for a child to grow. Soft, muted green stretched across the walls, warm in the glow of the low bedside lamp. Shelves lined with neatly folded onesies and tiny socks, stuffed animals tucked into corners like silent sentries. The window bench had been cleared of dust and laid out with a fresh quilt, facing the snowy street below—facing his house.

Joel rocked on his heels, shifting Maya higher in his arms as the low murmur of voices drifted up from downstairs. Goodbyes being said. Chairs scraping back. The door cracking open to the cool night air.

He should go. He knew that.

But hell, it was barely ten. He never left before Leela fell asleep—not until he was sure she was actually going to sleep. And that wasn’t for another couple of hours, at least.

Not that he was leaving anytime soon. Not unless he figured out a way to pry this little troublemaker off him.

Maya wasn’t having it.

He’d tried everything—rocking, pacing, humming low in his throat—but she refused to close those pretty eyes, just kept watching him, Her fingers patted at his chest, curling into his shirt. Then she'd reach up, clumsy and determined, fingers smushing against his nose, his cheek, his scruff.

Joel exhaled, shifting her slightly in his arms. "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

Maya blinked up at him, all big, dark eyes and stubborn little fists. He knew how much she loved conversing with him, even if it seemed deranged to talk to a fucking infant.

"You gonna let me put you down, or you plannin’ to keep me hostage all night?"

Maya made a breathy 'o' up at him, mouth parting in a wide, drooly grin. Like that would get her off the hook.

Joel snorted. "Yeah, that so?"

Another coo, this one higher-pitched, like she had a whole argument ready.

He shook his head, tired but amused. "Mhm. I'm convinced."

Joel sighed, lifting her up so they were at eye level, holding her by the armpits. Her legs kicked in the air, her chubby fists went straight to her mouth, and she tilted her head back, distracted by the warm glow of the nursery lights.

Too big. She was growing too damn fast.

He felt it in the way she relaxed against him now, her body stretching longer, heavier. Felt it in the way her head fit differently in the crook of his neck, in the way her fingers, once barely able to grasp his thumb, now had a grip strong enough to tug at his shirt.

It was frustrating. Fucking unfair. She'd only been in the world for a few weeks, and just when she was starting to fit perfectly in his arms, she was already growing out of them.

Joel swallowed thickly, staring at the soft roundness of her cheeks, the dark lashes fluttering against her skin. His fingers traced the slope of her back, feeling the tiny, steady rise and fall of her breath. How can you miss something that was not yet lost?

A lump pressed against his throat.

“You know I love you so goddamn much, right?”

It wasn’t much more than a whisper. A thought barely forced out past his lips. And yet—it felt so final. How long until he heard it back from her? Another year? Two years? Would he still be around when she said it to him?

Joel clenched his jaw, sighing. Hard as hell, saying it out loud. Felt damn near impossible, like something fragile, like something that wasn’t his to admit. Like if he said it too much, too often, he might have to face what it really meant. That he’d already taken responsibility for her, or if anything were to happen to her—

Maya let out a breathy giggle, legs kicking, fingers smacking against his cheek.

Joel blinked, barely catching himself before he smiled.

When he pulled her closer, she wriggled against him, pressing her small, warm face to his, her tiny palms patting at his chin, his nose, his temple. Soft puffs of air landed against his skin, clumsy, open-mouthed, like her own sloppy, little version of a kiss.

He let out a slow breath, shaking his head. This was really all he needed in whatever was left of his life. It seemed too easy to make it enough.

“Fine, you win this time,” he muttered, voice rough, thick.

Maya gurgled against his cheek, cooing, like she understood his plight.

He descended the stairs slowly, careful not to jostle Maya too much, hoping the rhythm might finally lull her to sleep. Her head lolled against his shoulder, tiny fingers curled into his collar again, but she was still awake, just blinking wide-eyed at the world.

Joel paused at the landing when he caught voices near the door—Ellie and Leela, still lingering. A strange sight, to be honest.

“Look, I really messed up back there and—” Ellie started, arms tight around herself, like she was bracing for impact.

Leela didn’t let her finish. Instead, she pressed something into Ellie’s palm—a tightly rolled set of charts. “Joel told me you love astronomy,” she said simply. “These belonged to my mother once. She was like you, too.” A beat. “They should go to someone who’ll actually use them.”

Joel shifted against the railing, watching as Ellie unrolled the top just enough to glimpse the faded celestial maps inside—one for each month, constellations inked in delicate, ghostly lines.

Her breath hitched. “Holy shit.”

Leela blinked. “Is that a good 'holy shit' or—”

Ellie nearly lunged forward—almost, but not quite. She caught herself, scratching the back of her head instead, a grin breaking through like she couldn’t hold it back. “Best fucking holy shit. Thank you.”

For a moment, she just held the maps, careful, reverent, like something fragile. Then she exhaled, shaking her head with a laugh—the kid really couldn’t believe her luck. “This is so sick. I’m gonna—I don’t even know, but it’s gonna be fucking awesome.” She clutched the charts to her chest, voice lighter than it had been all night. “Thanks, Leela. Really.”

Leela gave a slow nod, like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with the gratitude. She hesitated, then tested out a cautious, “Um. Have... fun.”

Ellie barely caught any of that. She whooped into the night as she left, the charts still hugged close. Oh, Joel was definitely not going to hear the end of this for at least a month.

Leela lingered in the doorway, lips parted, watching Ellie disappear down the street. Then, almost like she didn’t quite believe what had just happened, she slowly shut the door, pressing her back against it. Her hands lifted, covering her face, fingers threading through her hair. A breathy laugh escaped her—soft, disbelieving.

Joel caught the tail end of it, the faint curve of her smile before she tucked it away. Small. Quiet. Like she didn’t quite know what to do with it.

And hell, if that didn’t do something to him.

“I take it you enjoyed dinner then,” he said, his voice rough with amusement.

Leela startled slightly and hadn’t realized he was still there. Her eyes flicked first to Maya, softening instinctively before settling on him. The edges of that smile lingered—that wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.

She stepped closer, hand brushing over Maya’s back. “Little troublemaker fighting sleep again?”

Maya let out a big, sleepy yawn, eyes drooping but still resisting, gripping the fabric of Joel’s shirt like she could anchor herself awake. Stubborn baby girl.

Joel huffed, shifting his hold on her. “Like she doesn’t even need it.”

Leela hummed, tracing slow, absentminded circles against the baby’s onesie. Joel expected her to say something, but when he glanced up, he found her watching him—something different in her gaze. A glint, teasing but warm, something playful in a way he hadn’t seen before. It softened him in places he wasn’t prepared for.

Then she took a step back, and before he could think too much about it, she reached above the shoe rack, retrieving something small and wooden. A box.

Joel tensed the second he saw it. Goddamnit. Should've buried that thing in the snow.

She bit back a smile, shaking the box near her ear. “So, um… Tommy found this on the porch shelf,” she mused. “Told me you went through a lot of trouble to get it.”

Joel clenched his jaw, exhaling hard through his nose. He knew exactly what Tommy had done—ran his mouth just enough to make sure Joel would have to sit through this whole damn thing.

Leela tipped her head, all exaggerated curiosity. “I wonder what it is.”

“Yeah, real mystery,” Joel muttered, walking past her like he could simply exit this situation.

Instead, he focused on Maya, carefully easing her onto the soft padding of the playmat. The thing was space-themed—little planets and stars dangling overhead, catching the dim glow of the living room. Her tiny fingers curled around a plush moon, legs kicking as she let out a gurgled sound of delight.

Joel let out a quiet breath. This was fine. He could watch her do that. Much easier than watching Leela.

But there was no avoiding it, not really. Not when she was already lowering herself onto the couch, patting the cushion beside her. “Come, sit.”

He hesitated, looking away. He could’ve bif goodnight, walked out the door, and left her to open the damn thing by herself. He could’ve avoided this whole moment, let it pass, let it go.

With a great, defeated sigh, he sank down beside her, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Leela carefully slid the lid open, and the ruby cherries sat there, dark and glistening, their juices staining every inch of the wood. The smell of them hit the air—ripe, sweet, unmistakable.

She sucked in a breath, quiet but sharp.

Joel pressed his lips together, fighting the urge to explain himself. That it was dumb. That it didn’t mean anything. That it was silly. That he’d done it because—hell, because. Because he wanted to see her smile for him. Because he wanted to leave some sort of a mark on her special day.

But he didn’t say any of that.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “Thought you liked ‘em. It's not much, but...” yeah, it was from his heart. And he went on with a gruff, “Happy birthday.”

Leela nodded with a gentle laugh, but she didn’t say anything at first. Just reached in, plucking one between her fingers, rolling it like she wanted to feel every dip and curve of it before finally slipping it past her lips.

Joel tried not to watch too closely. The way her lips curved around the fruit, the divots on that pillow-soft skin stretching, before her tongue darted out to catch the juice. His throat bobbed with a dry swallow. God, he was going to lose it.

“Mm,” she moaned, shaking her head. “This is wonderful, Joel. Thank you.” She held up a sudden finger as if lit up by an idea. “How about a blackforest cake?”

He winked. “Right on, darlin'.”

He reached for one, too, grinning, chewing in sync with her.

Then he caught the way she twirled the stem between her fingers, that amused little gleam returning in her eyes, and he knew exactly what she was about to do. Oh, come on. Right now?

Leela quickly popped the stem into her mouth, brows furrowed in concentration.

Joel smirked despite himself. Fine. They were doing this then.

He followed suit, slipping the stem between his lips, tongue working it in practised motions—an old skill, long-buried, but still easy enough to find. A long time ago, he’d done this a hundred times over, showing off for Sarah, besting Tommy every damn time.

Sure enough, when he held the knotted cherry stem between his teeth, he arched a brow, only slightly smug. “How ‘bout that?”

Leela let out a muffled laugh, sticking her tongue out to reveal hers. Looser, messier, but still knotted. “You’re way better.”

Joel huffed a small, satisfied sound, settling back against the couch. “Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Wait for it.”

She cocked her head, intrigued, and he felt it then—her undivided attention settling warm against him. That expectant little gleam in her eye.

Well, hell. No turning back now. He worked his tongue around the stem again, shifting it between his teeth, coaxing it into another trick—one a little tougher, one he hadn’t pulled off in years. One wrong move, and he'd choke.

It took longer, and she was watching him too damn close, like she was trying to map every movement, every small shift in his jaw.

Then, finally, when he held it back out—the knot was gone.

Leela gasped, surprised, hands flying to her mouth. “How?”

Joel smirked, slow and deep, feeling a ridiculous amount of satisfaction at her reaction. He tapped his fingers against his knee. “Sworn to secrecy.” Then, just because he could, he added, “It’s a Miller thing.”

She laughed, warm and unguarded, shaking her head. “So dumb.”

Joel chuckled along with her, feeling ten pounds lighter at that sweet sound.

Leela, still grinning, tossed another cherry into her mouth. And then another. And another. Until her cheeks puffed up like a damn chipmunk, lips barely able to contain the burst of juice dribbling at the corner of her mouth.

Joel snickered at her, shaking his head. “Jesus, girl,” he muttered, reaching out without thinking. His thumb swiped slowly and easily at the corner of her lip, gathering the stray stain. “Slow down. It’s all yours.”

And that should’ve been it. The moment she pushed him away. But.

Leela didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just watched him. Not startled, not uncomfortable, not embarrassed. Just… watching. Chewing. Observing. Curious.

Her lips, still slick with juice, parted the smallest bit, like she might say something, but she didn’t. And neither did he.

But instead of pulling back—God help him—his gaze flickered down, just for a second, tracking the spot where his thumb had been. And before he even fully processed what he was doing, he brought it to his mouth, pressing the tip between his lips, tasting the cherry juice there.

A big fucking mistake.

Because it wasn’t just the cherry. It was her. All Leela and sweetness. He'd imagined moments like this for hours on end in his lonesome.

It was the heat of her skin, the warmth lingering on his fingertip. A trace of something softer beneath the tartness of the fruit. Something that made his breath go tight in his chest.

Leela inhaled, shallow and quiet.

See, Joel should’ve drawn off her. Should’ve laughed it off or said something—anything—to keep this from tipping too far. He shouldn’t have let it get this far.

Because for a second, just a second, he allowed himself to imagine it—let himself fucking want it. Joel wasn’t a man who let himself have much. Wasn’t the kind who asked for more than what was given, especially when life loved to take so much away from him. Sarah, his softness, his humanity.

But this? This, he wanted. He wanted it so bad.

Not just in passing, not just in a way he could ignore, but in a way that curled deep in his gut, low and slow. In a way that had him tilting forward before he could stop himself, his breath hitching ever so slightly, just as any man would attempting to her, his hands grounding against his knee like that might steady him, like that might make this less surreal.

Because she was right there. Close enough that he could see the flicker of amber light in her eyes, the crease between her eyes, the way her breath had changed, softened, like she’d been expecting this.

Maybe she had. And maybe that should’ve been enough to make him stop. Because, Jesus Christ, what the hell was he doing? What was he hoping to accomplish? Kiss her? Laugh? Maybe for once not leave this home feeling like a drop-in?

Leela was younger, cleverer, and healing. She was light, and he was nothing but a warm, dark, empty void pressing down on her, on this moment, on the air between them, threatened to swallow any hope of life.

She wasn’t flinching. Wasn’t moving away. But God, she should’ve.

She should've punched him square in the jaw, woken him up from whatever dream he was walking. She should’ve recoiled at the smell of whiskey on his breath, should’ve been weirded out that he’d even dared to lean in, that some old, beat-up man thought he had any goddamn right to touch something as brilliant as her.

Because that’s all he was, wasn’t he? Worthless. Worn down. Hands stained in more blood than he cared to admit. A hardass heart that refused to stop beating.

And she? She wasn’t for him. She was for someone who could meet her in the daylight, who didn’t have to carry every sin, every regret, every ounce of grief in their bones. Someone who hadn’t done the things he’d done.

Yet, something pushed him on. Told him to take that chance.

His breath came rough, unsteady. The space between them felt impossibly small, thinning with every heartbeat, every second, every goddamn pull of the air between them—

Except—just then—

Leela’s shoulders dropped with a slow, measured breath, and instead of leaning in, closing the last bit of space, she leaned away.

Her voice was a sigh, not scolding, not sharp. Just beaten. “Joel.”

It settled somewhere in his ribs, dull and heavy. The truth of it. That this had been a mistake. That she was kind enough, maybe even foolish enough, to let him down gently.

He didn’t pull back fast—he had a little more dignity than that. But he did pull back, gritting his jaw, clearing his throat, nodding once like that had been nothing, like he hadn’t just let himself be stupid, let himself slip into the foolish idea that he could have this, even for a second.

Because he wasn’t that man. He never had been.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and brittle. Joel could hear the soft tick of the clock in the next room, and the low hum of the wind against the windowpane, Maya's soft, sleepy puffs from the playmat. He could hear his own breathing, slower now, measured, because he had to make it so.

Leela stared down at her lap, at the way her hands twisted against each other. Her shoulders had drawn in, tightening like she was trying to make herself smaller, and he hated that—hated that he’d put that look on her face, that he’d made her feel like this.

He tried to work his voice, to apologize, tell her that he'd leave and never look her way again. Nothing came out. Because, ultimately, in doing so, he knew he stood to lose Maya, too. And he just couldn't let that happen.

But, when she finally spoke, her voice wasn’t accusing. It wasn’t sharp or angry. It was just… hollow. Blank. Terrifying.

“I’m rotting inside, Joel.” Her fingers curled, nails pressing into her palm. “I can’t do anything to stop it.”

Joel frowned, something uneasy stirring in his chest. He waited, but she didn’t look at him. Just kept staring at her hands like they held something, some mark or stain, only she could see.

“It’s a good thing Maya needs you more. I'm glad she has you.” She let out a small, breathless laugh—except it wasn’t really a laugh at all. “She's better off with you than me. You're good for her.”

A fit of unexpected anger rose in him—not at her, never at her. He wanted to tell he she was wrong. That Maya was hers. That no matter what she thought, no matter how deep she believed the 'rot' had gone, she wasn’t something Maya needed to be protected from.

“Any longer, and I’ll sicken her with me. She’s so small and pure… the softest part of me. And I can’t bear to even touch her. To feed her. To just be with her. I'm so afraid...” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and then, quieter: “I think I might really kill her, Joel.”

Joel froze.

The words hit him like a stab to the abdomen, like a goddamn gunshot, something he wasn’t ready for but should’ve seen coming. He’d heard her say those words before, hadn’t he?

That night—Maya’s first bout of colic. He’d rushed up to her nursery, rubbing at her back, murmuring low nothings just to calm her down. The screaming had gone on for hours, splitting apart the thin walls, rattling through the house like something relentless and starving. When he'd hatefully asked her to pull herself together, blamed her for knowing nothing.

And Leela had been standing at the threshold, watching. Her hands limp at her sides. Hollowed out. She had whispered it then, too. I think I might kill her.

And back then, he had thought it was the average… exhaustion. Fear. That helpless kind of inadequacy that came with first-time mothers.

But that wasn’t it at all, was it?

No, this wasn’t about being unsure.

This was agony. That bitter edge, that raw, bleeding thing inside her. That feeling of being left to die in her own body. And she was still living in it, with that numbness within.

Joel swallowed hard, his pulse beating thick in his ears. “Leela,” he managed, rough and uneven. It was the first time he had ever said her name out loud, and it landed heavier than he knew how to carry.

She sniffled, fingers curling tighter into her palms.

“I disgust me,” she whispered. “I stain everything, I know this. I’d never forgive myself if I did it to you.”

He exhaled, slow and steady, because if he didn’t keep himself calm, if he didn’t keep himself grounded in this moment, he didn’t know what he’d do. What he’d say. He didn't trust his instincts anymore.

And Leela was still looking down, fingers twitching in her lap, like she could feel something crawling under her skin. If she dug her nails in deep enough, if she pressed hard enough, maybe she could carve out whatever filth she thought was still inside her.

Joel knew that feeling. The itch of it. The glare from his mind's eye.

He’d stood in front of a mirror after things he could never undo, scrubbing his hands raw, watching the way the clear blood seemed to seep deeper between his nailbed and fingertips, no matter how much water ran down the drain. But no, this wasn’t the same. Not even remotely.

Joel had earned his stains.

Leela had been made to bear hers.

The thought clawed at him, made his ribs feel too tight, his breath too shallow. Because she wasn’t talking in metaphors. Not really. Not the way he might have, not the way he sometimes felt it, an unbearable burden in his gut, an ache in his chest.

She was talking about it like it was real, like it was something rotting inside her body right now. Like it was fouling her up, stinking only to her.

Because it was. Because someone had done that to her.

He clenched his jaw, heat rising behind his ribs. He didn’t know how. Didn’t know when. Didn’t know the details, and Jesus, did he even want to? He'd lose his shit.

A part of him did. A part of him wanted to be the man he used to be, the man who wouldn’t ask questions, who would just take his rifle and hunt down whoever had put this look on her face, this disgust in her voice, this strife in her bones. If that was what she wanted...

He could still kill for her. He absolutely would, without hesitation. If she said it, he'd walk right out that door and make for the front gates. He could wipe those motherfuckers off the face of the earth, make them suffer, bleed, scream, and beg before he pulled the trigger. He'd done it before, to less violent people. Why not now? What were a few more bodies to him? Nothing but newer ghosts.

But really, what would that do for Leela? What would that change?

She had to wake up every morning in the body they left her with, haunted, festering. And worse—she had to live in the mind, unable to outrun the moments between the others, the life they had shattered.

She had to look at Maya every day and wonder if she was capable of being her mother. Wonder if she was capable of loving her, if she was capable of keeping her safe. How could she when couldn't even protect herself?

Joel wanted to tell her that she could. That she already did. But that wasn’t something his words would fix. Especially not his.

So he didn’t say it.

Didn’t say anything for a long time, just watched her, just took in the way her shoulders hunched, the way she trembled like the truth had broken something loose inside her, and now she couldn’t shove it back down.

His fingers twitched.

He wanted to touch her, wanted to ground her, but he knew better than to startle her. He was stupid, just not a fucking idiot. He knew the way the past could reach through time, could grab hold of you even when you were safe, even when you were far away from where it happened. And fuck, she was drowning in it, wasn’t she?

Drowning in memories she hadn’t spoken aloud.

He didn’t need to hear them to see them.

Because her eyes—those dark, gripping, hollowed-out eyes—were far away, looking at something else. Someone else.

A room. A face. Hands. A warning. A little help.

The moment he thought it, bile rose in his throat. He couldn’t know, not really. But he could imagine. And it made him fucking sick.

He knew, somehow, that she had spent months alone, trying to live past this, trying to bury it under silence, under time, under the thousand little ways she kept people at arm’s length.

Leela sniffled sharply, yanking herself back to the present, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Just wiped her nose with the back of her hand, her fingers curling inward again like she wanted to disappear into herself. Like she deserved to.

Joel wouldn’t let her.

Carefully—slowly—he reached forward, brushing the tips of his fingers against the back of her hand.

She flinched. A slight tremor. A barely-there shake in her breath. Fuck, it hurt him, too. That some part of her—some deep, instinctual part—still thought she had to brace herself for what might come next.

But she didn’t pull away.

He worked at her fingers, gentle, patient, until she let him unfold her hand from the tight, white-knuckled fist she had made. Her palm was damp, warm from being clenched for too long. There were crescent moon indents where her nails had pressed into her skin.

Without thinking, without hesitating, he laid his own hand over hers. Mangled beyond repair, scarred, spoiled, lost to time.

Leela finally looked up at him. Finally, he let him see her.

Her face was blotchy, her dark eyes rimmed red, lashes wet, and God, she had never looked more exhausted. More fragile. This girl, who could accomplish anything and everything, looked helpless.

And she didn’t believe him. Not a single thing he’d just said. Yeah, she was right not to.

Maybe he was stained. Maybe he was rotting, too. Maybe it was too late for him, too late for a man who had done what he’d done, lost what he’d lost, to be anything else.

But not for her. Never for her.

He brought her fingers to his lips, brushing them softly against her knuckles.

She made a noise—small, unsure and confused. But she didn’t pull away. God, she didn't pull away.

His grip tightened just slightly, cradling her hand in both of his now to brush another kiss, like it was a lifeline, like it was the only thing tethering him to this moment, to her. He let his forehead rest gently against hers, breathing slow, trying to keep himself from gripping too tight, from pulling too close.

"There's nothin’ left to stain or rot in me," he admitted. "Just a lot of space left for the two of you."

The words landed soft, like he hadn’t meant to say them aloud, like maybe he was trying to convince her that they were true.

And Joel—he knew what that felt like. To be left alone with it. To drown in it. To have no one there to pull you out of it. So he didn’t try to stop her. Didn’t try to fix what couldn’t be fixed. This time, he wasn't heading for the door.

All he did was stay.

Leela sucked in a breath, sharp and shallow, like she was trying to hold herself together, but Joel could already see it—she was already falling.

And he wasn’t about to let her hit the ground alone.

His fingers curled tighter around hers, his other hand coming up to the back of her head, his thumb brushing just barely along her hairline. He felt her shudder beneath his touch, felt the way her breath came uneven, quick and unsure.

Close enough that he could feel every tremor in her body, every sharp, shallow breath she took. But he didn’t shush her. Didn’t tell her to breathe. Didn’t whisper that it would be okay.

Because he wasn’t a goddamn liar.

And because this—this agony, this slow, rotting thing inside her—wasn’t something words could untangle. It wasn’t something she could be reassured out of, something she could be reasoned or comforted or willed away from.

It was in her bones. In her blood. It lived there, like a sickness that had no cure.

So what the hell could he say? What good would empty do?

All he had—all he could offer—was this. His hands around hers. His touch, light, present. The slow press of his forehead against hers, grounding, real, unmoving.

And he held her. Not tightly, not desperately—just enough.

Enough for her to know. Enough for her to feel, just for a second, what it was to be held and not taken.

To be seen and not used.

To be broken and not discarded.

Joel breathed out slowly, before pulling back just enough to see her. Leela didn’t move or speak, just watched him quietly. Hoping for something from him.

His palm lifted to touch her cheek. Not enough to startle, just enough to remind her he was still here. That he would be.

“Alright then, birthday girl,” he murmured. “I’ll put Maya to bed. See you in the morning.”

No reluctance. No more questions. No trying to make sense of whatever had just passed between them.

Because nothing had changed. And that was the point. Whatever had been said, whatever had happened—he wasn’t going anywhere.

Leela didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. He caught the way her fingers curled into her palm gently like she was holding onto the warmth he’d left behind. There was a little curve that rested on the edge of her lips.

Joel didn’t look back as he left the room, didn’t linger in the doorway like he sometimes did. He just walked upstairs to Maya's quiet little corner of the world, enduring, sure, carrying her small weight against his chest.

Carefully, he lowered her into the crib, unfurling her fists from his collar. She stirred, a breathy sigh escaping her lips as she calmed into a deeper sleep.

Joel sighed, pressing his hands against the crib’s edge, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, staring down at her, at the impossible being that she was.

Warm, breathing, real. A perfect thing born from ruin.

Joel swallowed against the knot tightening in his throat. How the hell did something like her come from so much pain? From something that had swallowed her mother whole?

He didn’t know how it had happened. Didn’t know when he had stopped just watching from the outside and stepped into the mess of it. Didn’t know how someone like him—someone as stained, someone as wrecked—had ended up here, standing over something so goddamn perfect.

Nothing mattered because the truth was—he wouldn’t undo it. Wouldn’t take back a single second of this.

His breath ached with that same old, familiar twist as he reached down, brushing his fingers over Maya’s impossibly small hand.

She twitched, her lips parting slightly in sleep, and goddamn it—he felt it everywhere. Joel let a small grin pull at his lips as he curled his fingers around hers, feeling the faintest squeeze in return. Yeah, she was all his.

He sighed, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. Once. Then again. Then a third time, lingering, his lips brushing over her fine, downy hair, drinking in the warmth of her, the scent of her, the sheer, impossible realness of her.

No, nothing had changed.

But somehow, everything had.

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