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joelswritingmistress · 11 months ago

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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 11

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

“You're back.” I pointed out the obvious with a warm smile. I was genuinely ecstatic to see him so soon. I just hoped he wouldn’t get the wrong idea about me being in his billiards room.

“I've got some, uh, good news and some terrible news.” He walked slowly in my direction in dramatic fashion. When he approached where I stood he ran his fingers through the hair that fell near my face and maintained the slightest smirk.

“I guess you're supposed to ask for the bad news first, right.” I was just relieved he hadn't asked what I was doing downstairs.

“The bad news is that school got shut down again on my ride in.” He hesitated, looking down and then back up at me. “Body of a another woman was found not far from the first one on campus.”

“What?” I felt my face grow hot and my stomach sank. I hadn’t realized I placed my hand on my cheek until Dr. Miller put a hand over mine. When our fingers entwined I squeezed his hand.

“Were there any details? Is this a serial killer?” I felt a lump form in my throat.

“Nah. You have to knock off a couple more to get that title.” He grew slightly more serious. “But, honestly, I don't think you should be alone - anywhere right now.”

I nodded in agreement. “ Okay.” I let out a deep breath. “What's the good news?”

He smiled and began stripping the tie from his shirt. “I got to come home.. to you.”

I knew I was glowing. There was no sense in trying to hide it. I wasn't embarrassed or coy.

Dr. Miller's kisses would never get old. When he leaned down to touch his lips to mine, I melted into him with closed eyes and a thirst for his touch.

“Let me make you breakfast,” he whispered against my lips before pulling back a few inches.

“I should be making you breakfast.”

He tapped under my chin with his first two fingers. “What kind of host would I be if I allowed that.” Our lips met another time and he wandered around the island while offering me a seat facing a flat top stove.

Dr. Miller removed a pan from a lower cabinet and set it on the island. “After breakfast I'll take you down to check out another floor of the house.”

I swallowed hard and felt my body tense. The blueprint in the H.H. Holmes book immediately came to mind. I got a chill wondering what the maze portion of the house plans were. Without allowing my active imagination to run amuck, I simply nodded in agreement and smiled.

“Okay.”

Did he see me checking out his bookshelf? He has cameras doesn't he? He must have seen me with the blueprint.

Dr. Miller leaned across the way as far as he could. I met him halfway and pecked his lips before he whispered again. “I think you're going to like it.”

…

“Is there anything you can't do?” I asked, wiping the corner of my mouth with a napkin. “This might be the best French toast I've ever had.”

Dr. Miller sat beside me at the oversized kitchen island, smirking as he sipped on his coffee. He turned his body, slightly to face mine.. “My mother has all the best cooking secrets. I thankfully inherited them.”

Despite feeling full, I swirled the last bite around a pool of syrup on the plate and forked the final piece into my mouth.

“You should stay here,” Dr. Miller said, taking the conversation to a one-eighty, drawing my gaze back to his eyes. “Until all this blows over.”

“All what?”

“The murders.”

I felt guilty for letting that colossal event all but slip from my mind. “Oh, yeah.” I shook my head.

“You don't have to, but I would feel better knowing you're here than in a house with no alarm system that anyone could get into if they wanted to.” His eyes could have turned me to stone. They appeared as if they could quite literally pierce my mind and see what was going on inside of my head.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” I wanted to stay. “I’d love to stay.” I smiled, “I feel safe when I'm with you.”

Dr. Miller gave a nod and eyed the floor for a second or two before staring back up. “If this is all too much, let me know. I'm working on not being so demanding.”

“I don't mind that.” I shook my head and continued to look him directly in the eye and rested a hand on his knee. “And it's not too much.”

Dr. Miller looked down and back up. He lifted my hand, squeezing my fingers before placing a single kiss across my knuckles. “Let me show you the lower level.”

“Okay.” I pulled him in for a kiss. I simply couldn't help it. “Mmm.. you taste like syrup.”

Dr. Miller chuckled, sending vibrations across my lips. He stepped down off the high chair and held a hand out to help me down.

“So, you’ll stay?” he asked.

I nodded, “I’d love to.”

“Do you want to take the stairs or the old elevator?” He turned with a smirk, knowing how impressive that must have sounded - not that he needed to do anything else to impress me. That ship had sailed.

“I'll have to go with the old elevator.”

“Come on.” The warmth from his palm as towed me by the hand made me sigh. It was all so new to feel like this and every little touch felt like fireworks, even the innocent ones.

We wandered down a short hallway past another closed door, and hidden in a little nook was the elevator. I would have never guessed that was what it was until Dr. Miller gave a tug on a lever on the wall.

There was some clunking around from behind the wall and then suddenly the noise stopped and he reached for a worn, silver handle by the floor, yanking a rectangular door upward like a garage bay.

I glanced inside the small dark space. In the center of it was a rope that I could tell acted like a pulley system. When I glanced back at Dr. Miller, he nodded toward the opening.

“Get in.”

“In there?” My eyebrows must have raised as high as my hairline.

“We can both fit.”

When I hesitated he winked at me and crouched down to make his way inside. I took a deep breath and followed him. We were only an inch apart; face-to-face. There wasn't much room to move.

“You okay?” Dr. Miller asked.

I nodded, looking down as the floor creaked beneath us. “Is this going to hold our weight?”

“We’ll find out.” He closed the door and pressed a red button on the wall, leaving us with a fiery red glow inside.

The old elevator thrusted me forward, making my body collide with his. He caught me and I looked up at him, partially anxious, partially content. I felt like my emotions were constantly tugging me in different directions.

“Relax.” Dr. Miller held me against him and I felt his chest heave in a deep breath. “We can take the stairs back up later if this bothers you.”

I closed my eyes, inhaling his scent in the darkness as the side of my face pressed against his chest. My anxiety dropped with the gentle stroking of his fingertips down the center of my back.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

We descended to what felt like the center of the earth before the elevator came to a halt. I only separated myself from Dr. Miller in order to let him yank the door upward again. He then motioned with his arm toward the exit.

“After you.”

I let out a deep sigh and stepped out onto white, tiled floors. And then my eyes extended beyond the tiles onto the teal, blue water that sat still in an oversized swimming pool.

Well, this is not what I expected, I thought.

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. This wasn't the maze from the blueprint, or some secret room. It was a lavish, indoor swimming pool.

My eyes traveled to a jacuzzi at the far end of the pool as well as a sauna and a clear, see-through shower side-by-side.

When Dr. Miller’s hand touched my shoulder I jumped, making him pull back almost immediately.

I huffed a laugh and put a hand over my chest. “I'm sorry,” I said to him. “The ride down got my heart rate up.”

“I know this is probably a lot.” He nodded. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry?” I shook my head and looked around. “You've been so generous. My brain just hasn't caught up yet to all of this.” I motioned with my hand around the room and looked at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being.. such a good host.” I smiled. “For making me breakfast.. and taking care of me.”

“You can make it up to me by staying awhile.” He looked down and reached for my hand again.

“I can do that,” I said with a nod, adding, “No work until Monday.”

“And what are we going to do until then?” Dr. Miller's eyes squinted and he smirked when I giggled.

“This really is amazing,” I gushed as we walked beside the pool. “I feel stupid saying this but I feel like I'm in a movie.”

“I know you probably have questions,” he acknowledged, “Like how can I afford all of this.” Dr. Miller's eyes found mine.

“It’s none of my business.” I shook my head.

“I’ll explain,” Dr. Miller assured me, and then added, “One day.”

“Okay.” I nodded and managed a little smile, seeming to ease some of the tension that harbored in the muscles of his neck. It was enough for now. He unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt and his smile grew wider.

“Care for a swim?”

I wanted to, especially with Dr. Miller; but I had an embarrassing confession.

“Yes,” I told him and then eyed the body of water beside where we stood, “But I might have to stay in the low end.”

He chuckled and placed his hands on his hips, “Why’s that?”

“Because I.. I can’t really.. swim.”

Dr. Miller’s eyebrows raised, “You can’t swim?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I always used to just.. doggy paddle.. and then I’d kind of sink.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at my childish revelation, and I giggled right along side him. I gave a shrug and he looked me up and down. Dr. Miller began to undo the rest of his shirt until the center gave a view of his chest. Without warning he reached for the zipper on the gray hoodie he’d given me to wear and slowly let it run down past my breasts toward my belly button before it finally separated down at my hips.

I chewed my bottom lip and swallowed hard as tingles ignited through mg body. I hadn’t put on a bra and he gave an appreciative sigh as he drank in my figure, clearly at least a little surprised that I hadn’t put the undergarment back on. “I can show you how.”

“How to what?”

Dr. Miller pushed a laugh out of his nose and a smile crept on his face. “Swim.” He continued to undress.

“Do you have a bathing suit?” I immediately felt like it was such a stupid question, and my face reddened. He was undressing. Why the hell would I ever want him to put clothes on.

He laughed again, heartier this time as he purposely began to undo the belt on his work pants. “In about thirty seconds I intend for the two of us to take our clothes off, and then not put them back on until Monday morning.”

I opened my mouth to speak and then glanced down as he unzipped the fly of his pants. Coming from anyone else, the line wouldn’t have worked. I probably would have laughed, or thought it was funny to some degree. But, shit, I was way too enticed and attracted to Dr. Miller to even crack a smile - because I knew he was serious. And him being serious would continue to fulfill my ever growing fantasy.

I don’t know why I was suddenly shy. He wasn’t. An aching pulse began to thump between my legs when he freed his heavy, semi-erect cock from his pants. I couldn't look away. A second later Dr. Miller was stepping out of his shoes as his pants fell down to his ankles. He then peeled off his socks and slunk into the pool before resting his arms on the side, staring up at me.

“I promise I’ll go slow,” he teased, looking me in the eye, “We’ll start in the shallow end.”

My heart was racing and I took a deep breath before separating the zip up sweatshirt with my fingertips and letting it fall onto the tile floor beside Dr. Miller’s clothes.

“That’s my girl.”

His girl. I loved that already. I shoved my pants down and was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting as I attempted to confidently pace the length of the pool like a runway until I reached the little staircase that descended beneath the water. My heart was racing, moreso with each step. I wasn't at all confident enough to freely walk in my bare skin, especially in front of someone else.

When I reached the far edge of the pool, relief filtered over me. It was like a giant, soothing bath; perfect temperature without a hint of a chill. I let out a sigh as Dr. Miller made his way to me, pulling me into his arms. All anxiety drifted away. All I could focus on was his touch.

I linked my arms around the back of his neck and we kissed a long, deprived-of-each-other kiss as if we hadn’t been in each other’s company for months. He was addicting.

“My life is in your hands,” I whispered, smiling as I did.

“I won’t let you go,” he said quietly back.

Dr. Miller opened up his eyes and kept them open as he pecked my lips once more, before taking my hands and repositioning them so they were on his broad shoulders. I then felt his hands pushing up at my torso just below my breasts so my body was horizontal. He held me firmly in place and began to tread water, edging backwards deeper into the pool.

“Kick your feet,” he encouraged amidst a series of short, choppy breaths, still holding my body for support.

I did as he suggested and fully recognized when we had left the area where I could stand. I huffed a breath, feeling my anxiety climb again and he tried to put the fire out with more encouragement.

“I got you,” Dr. Miller promised again. “Just focus on me and keep kicking.”

“Don’t let me go,” I said, managing a nervous laugh.

“I won’t.” He breathed heavier, the deeper we went but never faltered. I never felt like he wouldn’t be able to keep me afloat.

“Let me know if you’re tired.”

“I’m okay.” Dr. Miller continued to tread backward and I was tempted to look over my shoulder to see how far we’d gotten, but I didn’t. From what I could see of the other side, we were getting close to halfway across the pool.

I breathed in and out, allowing him to lead me safely across. When the other end finally came within an arm’s reach, Dr. Miller planted his back against it and pulled me the rest of the way to him.

My body floated back down so we were both vertical and he placed a hand on my lower back so I pinned him against the side.

“That was a little bit of a rush,” I admitted with a deep breath and a chuckle.

Dr. Miller smiled back. “I’d rather be here teaching you how to swim than teaching the classes down at Woodbridge.” He let out a deep exhale and we kissed again. When he flipped us so my back rested against the side of the pool I giggled a little more freely.

“Well, you got your wish,” I told him, finding his lips again a second later. I felt his intensity heighten as he aggressively penetrated my lips with his tongue as his hand cupped the left side of my buttocks.

“Mmm..” he huffed a breath into my mouth and his eyes were still closed as he spoke, “You have no idea.”

I rested a hand on the side of his face. “Yes, I do.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @amyispxnk @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @readingiskeepingmegoing

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totiredtowrite · 3 years ago

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"ＴｈｅＢａｒｔｅｎｄｅｒ"

Warnings - Alcohol, cursing, brief mention of seggs, the word prostitute if that means something to you

Note: Guess what, I made the dni thing bigger ehe 🤪. Also I need more Iwa works on my page

FEM READERS DO NOT INTERACT (SHE/HER, SHE/THEY)

/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

Iwaizumi Hajime was a rather popular man.

The reason being, of course, that he was the bartender.

Most everybody knew about him. The strong, handsome, man who worked at the saloon. Sleeves rolled to his elbows, the occasional charming smile, strong arms and cut jaw. If you've seen how he interacts with his childhood friend, the salesman who hangs around the bar, you'd almost think he was stubborn and rude.

While correct about the stubborn part, he was charming when he wanted to be. Good with people, good at his job, attractive. He was everything a bartender needed to be.

Of course, his job also meant dealing with the less pleasant people. Drunken idiots, the occasional prostitute who he usually just gave money and sent on their way with some kind words, those who ugly cried in the corner tables about how fucked up their situation was. (He felt pity for the last group of people, though it really wasn't his problem. Or his business).

Lastly, he got hit on. A lot.

Granted, a lot of people who tried to get in his pants were shit faced. So far gone that they probably couldn't remember their own name. Still, there was a decent number of people who were stone cold sober. As much as he hates to admit it, he actually likes the attention, to an extent. Pretty people fall at his feet, though many were...shallow. That surface level attention was nice in the moment, but he knew none of them would be able to provide the connection he wants.

The most he'd get from any given person who came through for his attention was a one night stand and some pretty words. Come sunrise, and they're gone.

Iwaizumi sighed, setting down the glass he was polishing. It was nearing the end of the night, only a few people left at the bar. While the business was open at all hours, (Iwaizumi works nights), there was a time when business slowed tremendously. A drunkard in the corner, a regular, was babbling nonsense about something to the woman across from him. There was a new woman with him every other night.

With another sigh, Iwaizumi put up the glass and leaned against the counter, watching the door with boredom. He was young, he was desirable, and he was giving up the idea that he'd get some sappy romance. Working at a bar, seemingly untouchable or unreal to the people around, was just going to be his life wasn't it?

He got up to turn around, when the sound of the door swinging open stopped him.

"I do hope this place isn't closed." A small laugh left your mouth.

Hajime turned around, breath catching in his throat. You were easily the most beautiful man he'd seen in what felt like forever. Even if other people, (or you), thought you weren't all that, he could say otherwise. And he would.

You tilted your head at his lack of response. "Hello?"

Snapping out of it, he shook his head furiously. "Of course we're- we're always open."

You gave him another one of those beautiful grateful smiles, taking a seat in front of him at the bar. You slipped off your overcoat, adjusting your vest. "M'sorry, I'm new in town," you chuckled. Iwaizumi let his eyes wander from your face to your, obviously expensive, clothing.

"Yeah?" Iwaizumi said, cursing his voice for cracking in the middle of the word. Thankfully, you didn't seem to notice. And if you did you hadn't commented on it.

You nodded. "It's obvious, isn't it?"

He laughed awkwardly, nodding yes. "Do you, uh, want anything?" He rubbed his hands together. No way in hell was he going to lose his cool over a pretty man.

"I dunno," you let out an exhale as you pondered. "You can pick. I don't usually drink."

He turned to find whatever the best thing in the saloon was. In truth, Iwaizumi didn't drink much either. With his back to you, he popped the cap off of the most expensive looking liquor in his cabinet. Biting his lip, he pondered what to say. It's not every day that some otherworldly looking new guy walks into his bar, after all.

"So..." he eventually started, "Ya staying long?"

"Mm," you rested your head in your hand. "Just moved in, not leaving any time soon. Can't tell you the details of my job, but it's...tiring."

He scoffed in agreement. "I know what you mean," he turned around and slid a glass over to you. "Well obviously I don't get paid as much as you probably do, but night shifts aren't fun. 'Specially not here."

You hummed. "I guess you've gotta deal with a ton of people, huh?"

Iwaizumi grunted in approval, absentmindedly watching you take a tentative sip of your drink. "Drunks, my dumbass best friend, people who wanna get in my pants," he sighed.

You looked up to take a better look at him. "Can't blame them," you giggled. "You in a relationship? Got a woman? Or a man. I won't judge."

Iwaizumi shrugged, feeling himself blush at your compliment. "Nope. Not like I'm opposed to either, but," he sighed in the middle of his sentence, "Finding well meaning people here is hard."

You traced your glass. "Tell me about it. I can't make a meaningful connection with someone for the life of me."

Iwaizumi laughed. It was a nice sound, sort of hoarse and rocky. "Then I guess we can be hopeless romantics together, can't we?" He smiled at you softly. His previous nerves about being faced with a man who may or may not reject him, (or even be into guys), have disappeared. Being around you felt...nice. Comfortable.

You hummed out a 'yes' into your glass, giving him a small smile. "I'm (y/n)," you said when you looked up. "How about you?"

He knew he was getting progressively more red. "Hajime."

"Well, Hajime," you sat up straight, "I guess we'll be seeing each other often."

No doubt about it, Iwaizumi was falling further and further into this hole. This stupid hole of feelings for a man he just met. "Yeah," he fought the stutter in his voice, "I guess we will."

Do not repost, translate, or copy my work on to other platforms.

#hq x male reader #m!reader #anime x male reader #x male reader #male reader #haikyuu x male reader #iwaizumi x male reader #iwaizumi hajime x male reader

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tyunniverse · 4 years ago

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TXT x DISNEY Halloween Shorts 🎃 (3/5)

pairing: ot5 x reader

genre: fluff — college au

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: there's a halloween event at your uni and a few students are in the mood for misfit.

yeonjun | soobin | beomgyu | taehyun | hueningkai

BEOMGYU | Beauty and The Beast (2.2k)

“Careful with the hair!”

You hiss when Jinsung, your classmate and stylist for tonight, slaps your hand away after attempting to touch your hair.

“If I even see a single hair strand out of place, so help me I will shave your entire head.” He warns, tapping your shoulder with his brush. “Now go out there and get us some customers. The others said they'll have the food ready on time.”

“Alright.” You try to smile at him and he returns your smile with a sour look.

Your department was throwing a Beauty and the Beast style buffet right in front of your building. Canopies were set up, clothed tables lined around the vicinity, and classy decorations covered the area to add to the whole atmosphere. The dishes to be served are supposed to mimic the food found throughout the movie, with the servers dressed up as some of the minor characters. By some odd stroke of luck, you ended up being chosen as Belle and you were pretty sure some guy named Yeonjun from the other class was supposed to dress up as the Beast.

You got up from your seat and fetch the flyers from the table. The plan was to head up to where the crowds are and advertise your event there. You were all set to go, the only thing left missing being your partner.

Out of nowhere, a group of guys dressed as dwarfs appear. You can't make out what or who it was that they're carrying, but they were surely in a hurry, not caring a bit about their surroundings as they zoom past you, causing you to stumble back. Your heel catches the end of your gown and you start to fall backwards. Closing your eyes shut and bracing yourself for an awkward fall, you were pleasantly surprised when your back hit something soft instead— definitely not the concrete below— someone's chest you presume, their arms quickly wrapping around you protectively.

“Careful.” You hear the person say as they slowly help you on your feet. “Jinsung might throw a fit if you ruin your hair.” He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face.

You turn around and nearly got a scare when you're faced with the face of a beast, quite literally. Turns out your partner hadn't planned on being late after all. “Yeonjun, right?” You haven't actually met the guy but you've heard a few people talk about him. They say he had died his hair pink recently but you couldn't really see behind the terrifying full head mask he had on. You wonder how well he could breathe inside that thing.

“Uh, yeah.” The Beast replies, seeming somehow unsure of his own name. “I'm Yeonjun.”

“Nice meeting you then. I'm Y/N.” You don't bother offering him a handshake, knowing that you two barely had time to chat. “Let's get going. It's almost time.”

Beomgyu stays a few feet away from you as you handed out flyers to a bunch of costume clad strangers. Both of you were pretty busy right now, but he still manages to steal a few glances at you, admiring how beautiful you looked in that Belle costume. He almost wishes he could see you dressed like that everyday. Impractical, sure, but it was just a passing thought anyway. Thank heavens the costume had small peeping holes, otherwise you'd have caught him dead in the act of staring at you every few minutes or so.

“Try our buffet!” He greets two of the students passing by, handing them a flyer.

“What do you think, Soojin?” The student holding a tray of candied apples asks the other.

“I think not. We still have to visit that guy in the infirmary.” The friend replies. One of them gives Beomgyu an apologetic look before they leave.

Beomgyu watches the crowd pass by, his eyes naturally wandering to your side. He finds himself smiling when he saw you all focused on attracting customers, even going as far as to give them brief reenactments of their favorite scenes. Beomgyu loved that he was able to spend this time with you. He only wished that you knew it was actually him inside the costume and not Yeonjun, but he couldn't even find the courage to bring it up. He's not even sure why.

Yeonjun had asked him earlier today to be his substitute in handing flyers. Beomgyu had initially declined, but after hearing that you were going to be his partner for tonight— You, the student from across the hall that he'd been crushing on since freshman year— he was more than ecstatic to accept. This was his chance to actually interact with you without making things awkward.

“Why the fuck did I even say I was Yeonjun?” He huffs, only now had he found his costume stuffy. He really could have just told you before you started on your work, but he panicked and told you a lie instead. Great.

An hour had passed and Rina, one of your classmates, had come to inform you two that a lot of people were now dining at the buffet, and that you were allowed to rest for half an hour before your final wave of work.

You spot a bench nearby and walk over to Yeonjun. “Hey, let's take a rest over there.” You point at the bench. Yeonjun merely nods and follows you as you made your way to it. You take notice that he barely talked to you the entire time you were together. People said he was a chatterbox but apparently not tonight.

Just as you two sat down, Rina came back— this time, looking for someone. “Hey, have any of you seen Beomgyu?”

Hearing the name made you pause and blink. “Beomgyu?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

You glance at Yeonjun who kept shaking his head.

“Haven't seen him.”

Weird, you think. He was purposefully changing the pitch of his voice as he spoke to your classmate. You figure his throat was probably just dry from all the advertising he did earlier.

Rina turns to you, eyebrows raised with a smirk plastered on her face. “How about you, Y/N? I'm sure you've seen him.”

Eyes wide, you feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. Rina knew about your obvious crush on Beomgyu. The entire class knew. A few jokes were made, like how when someone from his class is looking for him, they'd ask if your Beomgyu radar was up and running. That joke was brought upon by your own little ability to somehow spot him easily within a crowd. That however, proved useless tonight. You hadn't seen him at all.

You spare Yeonjun a look. This was not a good time for Rina to be teasing you. He and Beomgyu are classmates and if he found out that you had a crush on the guy then who knows what'll happen. You didn't want him to think you were crazy when Rina ends up saying something stupid and overly exaggerated— you hope she won't. Your crush on Beomgyu wasn't even that big of a deal. Sure, sometimes you'd find your heart fluttering when you spot him laughing from the other side of the hallway, and maybe sometimes you'd wished you could just come up to him and pinch his cheeks but you've barely even spoken to the guy so—

“What are you talking about?” You laugh it off, patting Rina on the side while slipping in a few stink eyes. “I haven't seen him at all.”

“Is that so?” Rina sighs. For a second, you thought she would just let it go when she turned her back on you but the devil in her was in the mood to play. “Tell me when your Beomgyu radar picks him up then! We need him to help in the kitchen.”

Yeonjun turns to to you. “Beomgyu radar?”

You shrink in your seat.

Was Beomgyu hearing right? Did your classmate just ask you something about a Beomgyu radar? Your Beomgyu radar? Did she normally joke like that or was it intentional? Perhaps she knew he was the one in the costume and not Yeonjun, but he highly doubted that. Could you perhaps?

Beomgyu turns to you. “Beomgyu radar?”

Your face shifted into a mix of emotions that Beomgyu had trouble deciphering. “D-Don't mind her.” You stammer, waving your hands at him. “She's just joking as always. Ah, Rina, such an asshol— assertive joker.” You laugh.

“Right.” Beomgyu laughs along. He felt disappointed, thinking that he was probably just reading too much into it. “What are the odds of you crushing on Beomgyu, right?”

“Exactly!” Your reply was quick. Too quick for Beomgyu's liking. He observes your reaction and notices how red your ears were. Were you embarrassed? Was the idea of crushing on him too much for you? Did you not find him attractive in the least? At this point, he knows he was overthinking but couldn't help but succumb to it.

“Yeah..” He sighs, slumping his back on the bench. “He's probably not your type.”

You flinch. “What?”

“There's not really much to like about him.” Beomgyu shrugs.

“You're wrong.”

He sees you cross your arms, a frown present on your face. “I haven't really met him yet but from what I've seen in the past few years, I can say that there's a whole list of things one could like about him.”

Oh? Beomgyu certainly didn't expect this. “Like what?”

“He's one of the most considerate people I know.” You smile. “Sometimes I'd see him cleaning up after others, giving up seats on the bus, and going out of his way to help anyone in need. He even helped me out that one time I was late for our finals.” You chuckle at the fond memory. It was the day you made up your mind about him.

“It was pretty embarrassing though. I was running through the gates and tripped. I sprained my ankle and no one else was around except for Beomgyu. Turns out he was also running late but didn't even stop to think twice about helping me. He carried me to the nurse's office and stayed there until my friends arrived. I couldn't even thank him properly after that since I was pretty disoriented. In the end, we both had to take the finals at another time.”

Beomgyu blinks. He can't believe you still remembered that day, especially when it was the very day he himself started crushing on you. Though, he'd always thought you didn't know who he was when that happened. “Oh..” He couldn't bring himself to say anything else.

“You know what?”

Beomgyu turns to you.

You smile. “He's exactly my type.”

Beomgyu didn't know what to feel. His cheeks heat up and he's sure it wasn't just the mask making him that way. You talked about that moment so fondly that it almost made him think that maybe— just maybe his feelings for you weren't all that one-sided after all.

He chuckles. He's about to do something stupid.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Do you perhaps..”

“Like him?” Beomgyu watches silently as you take the time to think.

This was probably too much. What if you didn't like him after all? Could he live knowing that he tricked you into answering that, thinking he was someone else. His thoughts come to a halt when you nod.

“I do.” You chuckle. “No use in hiding that now, huh?”

Beomgyu gulps. “Then..” Then what?

“Hm?”

“What if I say Beomgyu liked you too?”

Your furrow your brows in confusion. “What?”

Beomgyu grips the end of his mask. “I like you.”

“Yeonjun, you're not making any—”

He doesn't let you finish, yanking the mask off his face and revealing his disheveled look underneath.

“Beomgyu?!” You jump in surprise, and he stands up, following you. “How—”

“I like you, Y/N.” Beomgyu says, no longer caring about the consequences that'll follow after. “I really like you. I have for a long time now.”

You stare at him, speechless. “I.. haha.” You cover your face in your hands, laughing. “This is a joke right?”

“I wish it was.” Beomgyu awkwardly shifts in his spot. “But it's not. I'm being honest. I really like you.”

You move your hands away, now looking at him. “You know, as much as I want to hit you right now for tricking me into thinking you were Yeonjun all this time and basically had me going off about how much I appreciate you,” You pause. “I just can't.” You say, your cheeks reddening.

“Y/N, I—”

“There you are!”

Before either of you could react, Rina appears out of nowhere and grabs Beomgyu by the arm, practically dragging him way from you. “We've been looking for you all night! Jin wants you in the kitchen asap.”

Rina flashes you a thumbs up and you couldn't do anything but smile. “Good to see that your Beomgyu radar's still working!”

Judging by the way he was being mercilessly dragged away from you, it looks like Beomgyu had his hands tied with no escape. He waves his free arm at you. And you get the message. You're gonna have to talk about this soon.

You look down at the flyers on your hands and couldn't help but blush. He likes you too.

#txt imagines #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #txt fluff

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imasimpforstevengrant · 5 years ago

Text

Into you

@raven-romanoff

@maristela1968

@flaky178

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Author's note:

First off... Gif made from the original video.

https://youtu.be/iqDUGD8SHF4

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I have to confess I wanted to write another smut for Arthur/Harleen since the first one I wrote wasn't so satisfying... So, here it is! It took me a long time to write it (two months, actually. Bless the writer's block, FFS) so I hope you like it!

Second, sorry for any typos because english is not my first language (Chilean Spanish Strikes Back once again lol).

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Summary: Follow up to "I feel you". After his first night with Harleen, Arthur cannot get enough of her... And she has more in store for him than just a few warm, kind words.

Warnings: insecurity, (considerable) age gap, self loathing, swearing, masturbation (both receiving), strong sexual themes, unprotected sex, mild dirty talk... And smut.

Words: 8.540 (sorry if it's too long. I hope you don't get bored)

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The clock marked 5:46 a.m. when Arthur opened his eyes. He had a blanket over his frail, undressed form and was alone. The missing presence of Harleen alarmed him, believing it was another painful hallucination or worse. The idea she regretted the union and decided to lock in her bedroom to sleep by herself harassed his mind incessantly.

As soon as the neon lights shone before his eyes, he knew everything was alright. He almost fell on the couch again, relieved. But he never stopped asking where she was, though the calm background around him tenderly convinced the convulsed psyche to not keep tormenting.

As he yawned, taking a seat, he replayed everything that happened a few hours ago.

He just had sex.

Chuckling, he lit up a cigarette. And thought about what happened one more time so his brain would memorize it.

Harleen allowed him to touch her.

The memory of her moaning and straddling him set him on fire. Harleen had such a good time and he loved to see her enjoying it. The killing eagerness to repeat the act, just to see her again coming undone, to hear her lustful moans slowly took over his mind.

He took a deep breath and looked for his hoodie. The cloth in question was found on a puddle of mixed garments, which included her peach coloured pajamas and his pants. Arthur took the blanket off partially to grab the sleeveless shirt with certain desperation to smell it, to prove himself this wasn’t his imagination. The sweet, fruity smell filled his nose, almost submerging him into a high state. It wasn’t enough, though. A profound nuzzle into the garment served as a vain way to revive the sensations experimented as Harleen let his mouth roam over her chest. He absorbed the fresh, fruity scent. Eventually the need the dirty habit brought with it overcame the ritual that reduced Arthur to a starving animal. As the hunger diminished, he put the piece of clothing aside. Arthur took his time, remembering the initial goal by rummaging the cloth puddle: the pack of cigarettes showed up coming out the right pocket in a scalene triangle shape. He took it immediately, also taking the lighter.

As he smoked his cigarette, for the first time he thought how lucky he was. As a malevolent chuckle reverberated through the air, he finally savoured what was that contact he yearned so much. A sensation of being an ordinary man nested on his heart. That’s what an ordinary man had, right? A job, a girlfriend, a sex life. He laid back on the couch again, bathing in this new, positive emotions. Looking at the shelf full of books, small crystal figures and a portrait of her holding a scroll, most likely her diploma once she got her degree. Arthur quickly got up to hold the portrait, watching it carefully. She seemed so… happy.

Returning the portrait to its original place, he stepped to the couch again. His thoughts clouded by the wonderful moment Harleen shared with him: loved how gentle she was, how considerate and patiently handled the loss of his celibacy in such an skilled way. It was the first time he truly felt in tune with someone in his entire fucking life. It was way beyond the physical bonding. He couldn’t find the words for it but he was sure about how he felt.

Seen.

While Arthur was searching another cigarette to smoke, another rowdy idea swarmed in his mind: he had never found himself attractive, given his eternal history of rejection from everyone and his frail appearance just increased the mute but obvious aura of dislike around him. What were the odds for a woman like Harleen to fall for him? One in a million. Her looks could perfectly allow her a good life as a model and her kindness and easygoing personality would even take her farther away from the poverty of the building. Yet, she didn't seem interested in pursue a better, new life. She could perfectly have any man at her mercy and still she preferred to stay, actually giving a damn about others.

Suddenly his self loathing bloomed fully again. What could he possibly offer her, except for misery and sorrow? Nothing. Nothing but a unquenchable thirst for her. An aged, pained soul devoid of love. She deserved better. A strong man.

A man of her own age.

Quickly his eyes closed. The hated guilt, the same he swore he had overcome, came back like a furious, stormy surge. Arthur felt he had committed an unforgivable sin by sleeping with her. She was so precious, so joyful... And so young. Things Arthur was far from. He was so inexperienced, so clumsy, so flawed... A dark part of him felt he had defiled her, that he had taken advantage of her gentleness to sate his own selfish desires. This sense of perversion flooded his mind, reducing the happy moment to a mistake that shouldn't have been. His lungs crumpled the air, if the smoke didn't disperse it. The hand that left free palmed the forehead, to drive away the negativity.

Suddenly his mind remembered the laughing fit. And the gentle hug that followed it. The pieces in this puzzle came together. Harleen holding him right against her chest in a searing yet tender embrace. Not even his mother would offer such comforting balm.

Arthur then let a short cackle to shatter the silence. He definitely had something but he did not know for sure what was that something. It had to be more than just being a 'hard working man'. If she was so gentle with him, surely a feeling was on the way. To his mind comes the tender memory of their first meeting. The first thing he got from her was a warm, kind smile through the fence.

Of course, the cursed fit fucked up everything. But it happened! The open palm patted his chest, calming down the turbulent flow inside of him. The happy memory of their first meeting brought also the passionate moment of the first kiss which almost led them to the bed.

Arthur processed a thousand things that night. But one thing was for certain: that night Harleen awoke a hunger he had never felt in his life. Never saying it but showing it in their kissing sessions. He remembered that one time when he was expecting her to return after her shift. It was late at night. His knee bounced while Arthur smoked three cigarettes in the meantime. But he wasn’t alone. There were two young men a few feet away who minded their own business. Arthur feared them to be robbers but nothing happened. He put his hoodie on and kept smoking. A bus arrived but she wasn’t among the four people who stepped down from the vehicle. Two more came, but she was never among them. It started to get on his nerves when a taxi finally stopped and revealed the lovely passenger:

As soon as Harleen set foot outside, Arthur jumped out from the bench. The two other men witnessed the scene: their faces changed from curiousity to actual surprise when the blonde threw her arms to the man who evidently was older than her. But the lovers didn’t care. Their kiss was so heated that the youngest of the two muttered “damn” under his breath. They couldn’t stop staring at them, but Arthur was too focused on sharing their lips in a desperate dance. He was oblivious to the envy he inspired in every man whenever Harleen would display her affection in public. Therefore, he didn’t care. He longed to take the initiative in their eventual intimate encounter but the fear his inexperience would ruin it prevented any attempt to start intimacy. Harleen was aware of how hard was for him to begin with physical contact, though he never denied it. She could tell he had so much to say by just looking at his eyes. Patience with him would pay off. And the worst part of all this? The fits.

The fucking laughing fits. And Harleen could only hug the pain away against her chest while his head found shelter in it. He froze in the position where he basically clawed to her body. It was the third time he had one in front of her, the second being in the empty subway after a date. It was after a careless kiss Harleen granted to his lips while waiting for him to go off work. He could tell she had been drinking: she was way more affectionate than usual. The spontaneous caress on his lips took him by surprise. He laughed at his fucking frustration on how he could possibly cope with what was regarded as the ultimate loss of personal space. He considered himself as a romantic at heart but Harleen’s overwhelming passion reminded him of how inexperienced he was, how unsure he was actually feeling relating to his damaged masculinity.

It was almost like a pessimistic prelude before their first night together, since Arthur did not have the chance to come closer to her disregarding sex. He just had kissed and embraced her, restraining his touches to her face, neck and waist but never beyond there. Arthur preferred the silent sensuality of passiveness, though he desired to sink down deep inside of her.

The crude self loathing drifted to another question: Where was she?

Taking the blanket off him and putting his pants on, Arthur wandered over the flat and saw a dim orange light glowing behind the door, which was open just a crack. Analysing the lit lines, he then paid attention to the steam coming from the bathroom. He stopped breathing, closing his eyes to not commit the sin to spy on her.

His right hand knocked the door, leaning into it expecting the answer. A few seconds later, her voice approved him to get into the place. Arthur got in, anxious.

The sight of her completely overrode his senses. He stood completely frozen trying to process, once again, what was happening. The mere action of this impious gaze was enough to make him turn his head. She bursted out laughing. And hearing she wasn't upset with his presence managed to look at her.

Harleen was on the bathtub, laying on her back. Her damp hair covered her chest while the foam didnt allow to see more of her body. This didn't upset him, of course. This new glimpse of his lover was something he would never forget.

Amused by his priceless expression, Harleen covered her face.

"Are you in need for another ride, Mr. Fleck?", She asked, temptingly.

Arthur licked his lips as he closed the door behind him.

"After that? Always". The steps towards her made Harleen change her position to lie on her side, to grant him a better sight. He sat on the floor, eyes concentrated maniacally in her figure. Her soft, wet hand touched his own, intertwining her fingers with his for a brief moment to kiss them.

Arthur stared at her for long seconds. Harleen didn't seem uncomfortable despite how much he struggled to remain modest. She couldn't blame the poor guy. Her pose was way too sensual to be indifferent. The appreciation showed a silent invitation for more intimate contact, for more comfort and company. He could only see her precious lower curvature showing partially. Her left arm covered her chest while supporting herself on the edge of the bathtub with the other hand. He loved how much sensuality she oozed even when she did nothing.

“Did you have a good sleep?”

Arthur replayed the question to process it.

“Yes” he simply nodded, “but it seems you didn’t. You weren’t there when I woke up”.

“I don’t sleep too much, Arthur. Just needed to take a bath to refresh myself after our hot, noisy turmoil”.

Arthur grinned widely. And it wasn’t only for the friendly reminder of why he felt excited. He darted his eyes towards the platinum strands of hair stuck on her face, falling down to stick to her shoulders and forearm, creating a sinuous curve that lined her hip with blue shades. After a few awkward seconds of silence, Harleen finally pronounced:

“So, since we’re in this situation… would you like to talk about what happened?”

“Yes”. Arthur was anxious to take advantage of any chance he’d had to end up in the bed with her. But he was too nervous to start a conversation about the subject. She noticed it and did her best to not put him in an uncomfortable position. Arthur just glared at her.

“It feels so different when you don’t have to lay your hands on yourself”, he cleaned the sweat that formed in his forehead, “it’s different to have a… um”, doing his best to retain the stammer that prevented a fluid talk, he tried to look for the right words to describe what happened in his head.

“A…?”

“It’s different when you see it than to experience it. It feels better when you have a body next to you”, he gulped, trying to swallow the nervousness, “it was a long little yearn since I began to understand these things about…”

“About sex?”

“Yes” was his answer, “I’m sorry if I sound strange. But this conversation is too personal and… and all this is new for me. I never thought I would be with a woman like that and it turns out it’s better than I expected”.

Harleen tilted her head, paying attention to every single word.

“Is there something you liked in particular?”

Arthur lowered his head, trying to think and replay the scene. From the passionate, tenderly patient foreplay to the scandalous and thirsty ride. There were so many good moments to pick one in particular. But then, her voice broke his thoughtful immersion.

“Or maybe was there something you did not like?”

This drew a devilish, naughty grin in Arthur.

"What's not to like about it?” his hand slicking back the fluffy hair, “We fucked like crazy and you ask me if there's something I did not like about it?", the verdant glow turned darker. Harleen rose an eyebrow, expectant. Arthur began to pant and cleared his throat in an almost hilarious way to hide his incipient arousal.

"I couldn't resist... I simply couldn't... because I've been wanting to do those things to you since I saw you--" a chuckle left his mouth at the raw confession. A painful slap on his mouth to quieten down the noise made Harleen immediately sat in case a fit of laughter would tear his throat apart again. Extending her hands to grab his forearms, the violent move shook her long, wet hair which allowed the loner to catch a glimpse of her naked chest.

The fit, thank goodness, never came. Arthur just coughed, waving his hand so any sense of worry Harleen felt would dispel in time. As things settled down, Arthur continued the talk where it left off.

“This—this feels like a very good beginning. But—“ his words concluded but his expression reflected a profound thought he couldn’t put words on yet.

“It’s alright. You can tell me”.

It took a long while to answer. There was almost completely silent if it wasn’t the for the tense breathing that Arthur fought to control.

“You really enjoy doing this to me, do you?”, Arthur embed the green spell his eyes had cast on her.

Harleen’s expression went from amusement to actual surprise. There was more from him to tell her, however. She nodded almost imperceptibly to give him the confidence he needed.

“You never felt uncomfortable with me even when you knew the things I wanted to do to you from the beginning. You let me kiss you, you let me touch you… you were never afraid to show me your body from the first day as you now do” he came closer to her, demanding answers, “until a while ago, I thought I could never awake those reactions on a woman. But I did”. He licked his lips, tilting his head to stare at her, “do you enjoy doing this to me?”

“By saying ’this’ you refer to… provocation?”

“Yes”, Arthur’s tone of voice revealed his relief to finally know the word for the aforementioned action.

Harleen hummed, thoughtful.

“I did not intend to provoke you to torture you. I intended it just to get your attention. You left just before the best part in our first kiss and I’ve been craving you in that way as well since. I wanted you to touch me… yet our caresses did not go beyond a cuddle or a kiss, so I thought that leaving the door unlocked after I arrived from work, wearing a few pretty clothes would give you a hint to come to me so we could be together like that at last”.

Arthur was completely mute at this point.

“But if you feel uncomfortable with me like this, I won’t keep on” she raised her hands in a childish sign of surrender. Arthur shook his head.

“It’s not the fact I don’t want to touch you. It’s… another thing. I know you won’t deny me your body. There are so many things…” he ruffled the disheveled hair in an involuntary move to relax.

“What?”

Arthur sighed, finally finding the courage to voice what troubled him.

“How’s that you don't feel uncomfortable with my condition or—“

“Or…?”

Arthur gulped.

The hardest (and the most perverted) part would come to be verbalised.

“My… appearance?”

“What the fuck is wrong with your appearance?”, Arthur sighed and replied:

“I look old enough to be your father!” the green eyes pierced hers. If only the thought of it was dirty, confessing it was downright indecent. Eyelids were tightened to the point it caused him pain, in a futile attempt to erase any improper thought in which Harleen was the protagonist. However, her voice exploded with loud cackles, splashing the water with open palms. Was she actually laughing at him? He frowned, getting upset and impatient to obtain a good answer.

“And…?” was all she said, much to his chagrin. The puzzled glare did not display satisfaction for his part.

“Doesn’t that… disturb you?”

“In the slightest. It’s actually quite the opposite” she supported her chin on the edge of the bathtub, staring up to him while biting her lip playfully. Then in a false pretension of innocence, she giggled, her hand making a move to tell him to come closer to her.

“That’s one of the many reasons why I like you very, very much”. The sweet sinful sound of the whisper was irresistible to Arthur, whose lids were almost completely closed, jaw slightly dropped. The reality of this situation caught him off guard. It was unbelievable to the point of obscenity and a persistent need to step back from his lewd intentions out of disgust on behalf of common modesty.

“I like you, Arthur Fleck" her face came closer to his and in a manner so typical of her, took his hand to open it from the fist it had reduced to in order to grant it a provocative kiss on his fingers, sliding the bottom lip against them.

Remaining silent and completely hypnotized by the scene, Harleen proceeded to trace invisible lines with the tip of her fingers on the early, harsh wrinkles that were more of a proof of how devastating his life was. It was a testament, a living, bleeding monument of how much cruelty and indifference could drive a man to insanity. Her thumb ran assiduously on his lip scar, which she found gorgeous to look upon. His breath shortened, pupils dilated, blood flowing to his groin.

Her digits now went over those adorable dimples that only increased the odd beauty of his mirthless, worn out face. His eyes moved from one direction to another, trying to cope with this tender attention, closing them eventually, leaving the embarrassment aside. He smiled but her voice shattered the moment.

“How can I judge you for a condition you did not wish to suffer?”, her fingertips ran over the notorious wrinkles in his forehead, “it’s not your fault”.

She admired the subtle silver hair that would make the brown hue fade in time, ending the journey all over his face.

“You find me… attractive?”

“Well of course I fucking do”.

Again, the green menacing eyes had the effect on her.

“What is it that I have that you like so much?”

Murmuring against his lips, she replied:

“You’re oddly attractive” she held his face to reinforce their bond, “and yet you don’t know it” she kissed the lip scar, “of all the men I've been with, no one has looked at me in the way you do".

Arthur set all his focus on the praising words, which served to mend or to relieve a little the inhuman treatment he had received from the world as long as he remembered. There was nothing he could do, except process and replay the words every time a silence took place between them. Kindness seemed a far ghost, a laughable little dream, a cruel joke.

A pause allowed them to hear a few cars passing by, followed by sirens of an ambulance. It didn’t matter, since none of them mentioned it.

"I've never met a man who's been so grateful for a kind greet or a simple smile. I couldn't help it that rainy day you came back from work to talk to you. At first I had an idea about my secret admirer simply being another guy who drooled over my ass. I would have never imagined the man behind my steps was so hungry for affection. Your eyes are an open book, Arthur. I noticed your intentions... and I liked the idea of you and me together like that from that night”.

Arthur directed his hands to her lips, holding the ever persistent, painful question that scarred his psyche:

Was she real?

His hands touched down her jawline and neck. Just a stare and Arthur told her everything. Because, somehow he knew that it was through an intense stare that lovers could tell the most intimate things. He spoke through his body, through dance. But what about sex? What about the act that dazed him so much? She actually understood why he needed intimate contact with such urge. The repression he hated so ardently for being a cruel insult to his ego tasted so differently now that she sated the thirst just to leave him craving for more. He felt… like all the years with no female attention were worth it if the pleasure people would lose their heads about was true.

"I want to make you feel good. It’s what you deserve. And if no one gives you relief, then I’ll gladly do”, she put a curly lock behind his ear.

But before any sparkly iniciative took ahold of his voice to manifest the need to consummate their relationship for a second time, Harleen pronounced, as a pleasant surprise for his intentions:

"Because you know” her gaze was pure, burning lust, “I could use a good fuck right now". Her tone of voice was seductive, though secretive, like confessing a small misdemeanor. His hand was not free from her soft grasp and her teeth gifted it with a tiny nibble. Arthur’s body stiffened, processing the words. However, no reply emerged from his mouth. The attention was entirely drawn to her face. The suggestive smile betrayed her reciprocity related to his intentions. He was so lost with the tantalising promise of more affection that he missed out the loving, yet flirtatious offer Harleen uttered.

"Huh?" Arthur shook his head.

"Come on, I'm bored". Her mouth adopted a puerile pouting in an attempt to persuade him, "I'm bored, play with me".

Harleen crawled out from the bathtub, exposing her bare, wet body for the loner to see. Arthur's breath immediately cut off, his heart galloping wildly. Her milky, marmoreal skin glistened with drops of water which marked thin creeks all her body before the enraptured glance of the loner. This was an erotic image that Arthur could have only dreamt of.

Once again his hands served as the eccentric – and intrusive – instrument to trace the almost invisible, indiscernible line between fantasy and reality while the blonde was only entertained by his obvious, euphoric goodwill to comply her wish. She sat next to him.

"P-play... with you?" He repeated, battling the urge to faint, holding her body in his arms.

"Like you did on the couch with me", her hands held his face gently to kiss it, to then throw her arms to his shoulders, “touch me, Arthur. Touch me. Don’t be afraid”. The mentioned man was unable to pronounce anything, reducing his exploration by touching blindly her waist and back. She continued pressing her nude body, taking delight on watching her Arthur plunged her into a solid, vigorous embrace, absorbing her, holding her nape so hard to not allow her escape, focused on how good her wet hair felt against his chest… as if her bare bossom wasn’t the best part of it.

Harleen slid her fingers over his left shoulder, becoming more familiar with the protruding bone. She placed her hand in the same place where Arthur told her not to. This caused an immediate response from him. As Harleen noticed the horrible, vast bruise all over the right shoulder blade. A gutural groan warned her. She quickly apologized. But Arthur shook his head.

“It’s nothing. People are not precisely kind when they see me at work”.

The dark brown eyebrows arched in a sad expression. Her left arm assured a stable position for what she had in store for him. Arthur had no idea of what it was, but he knew it would be mind-blowing.

“I can make you feel good”, he leaned his head in her forehead. Despite his celibacy was no more, all these touches were still new for him and he wanted to treasure them as much as he could. Air was heavy. The fear of another laughing fit ruining the moment clouded his mind but Harleen didn't seem to notice. The devoted, passionate embrace that held them so close just fed the fire inside him to take things to another level.

Specially when her hand, teasing and avid, slipped above the pants where his manhood had responded to the visual, constant incentive. Fumbling the part to gradually pull down the pants in an enthralling motion that rendered the loner totally speechless. Once the cloth allowed his member to be graced by her hand.

He gasped, jolting at the sensation of the damp but warm hand around his length. It was so unbelievable that just yesterday, that part had met his own contact during years. The rapture again battled with the persistent and its idea that everything was his imagination. Negative thoughts misting the moment. No kind touches except from Penny. But even she seemed aloof, unaware on how much damaged her own son was. This fade away once the caresses grew steadier.

The rhythm of his breathing violently shook his chest up and down. He undid the hug partially to stare at the zone she paid so much attention to. His fully erect hardness receiving such caring treatment was taken straight out of a fantasy. His eyes couldn’stop glaring at the precious sight of the delicate hand going up and down in a maddening sway. He threw his head back, panting.

“Like that--just like that- please. Don’t stop it”, he whispered, holding to the border of the tub, his voice broke out in agonizing moans, varying from groans and hoarse screaming, mixed with very sharp swearing as the building up to the peak made presence as minutes went by. His legs trembled almost uncontrollably, hips thrusting up constantly.

Harleen of course was greedy. Taking advantage of the situation, her mouth sucked the prominence located at his neck to then lick it. Her sensual chuckle vibrated as she slid down the free hand on his convulsed chest, tenderly pressing it to calm down the crazed heartbeat. It didn’t take too long for him to start feeling a vertiginous shiver that expanded all over his groin. Sensing the situation was started to get out of his hands, the blonde rushed in:

“Don’t hold back. Do it”.

Arthur gasped as the climax hit him. He groaned into the air as the fierce hustle concluded. He was shaking, trying to not make a mess. The niveous strings spread all over the floor. Harleen glanced the scene, amazed to see Arthur a little less stressed. He lolled his head back, still pursuing the first intense feeling standing motionless, arms to his side, almost in a trance. Nothing could take the wide smile off him.

A soft massage to his collarbone made the aforementioned man react at last.

“My, my. You’re such a bombshell” Arthur muttered, blatantly ogling her. She smiled, smooching his cheek to quickly get up, much to his surprise. Harleen took a towel to wipe her hands and her body, leading her steps out of the bathroom. The loner was about to protest when she asked:

"Are you waiting for an invitation, Mr. Fleck? Or isn't the sight enough to motivate you to come to bed with me?"

The fascination held him still for a second, thinking the words that echoed in his mind repeatedly while enjoying the blonde's shameless exhibitionism. He turned the lights off as he searched for her. The outside lights prevented a complete darkness in the apartment. The drizzle hit the windows, creating a perfect, almost dreamlike atmosphere.

He had to see her to confirm his yearn could become real. And so, he found her stepping into the promised place, while the towel dried the mane, which seemed longer now, almost reaching the highest part of her thighs. Arthur got rid of his pants immediately.

Just about to reach the other foot to the room, Arthur extended his hand to reach her shoulder so she could turn to face him. Harleen was unable to suppress a surprised expression at the glimpse of his now completely naked body, causing to drop the towel.

Once she called his name, Arthur took her face between his hands to crash his lips on hers, pressing them into his several times to crown the passionate caress leading her in to the bedroom, their bodies entangled, anguished in a needy dance. They almost tripped over but the weak white light coming from a small lamp on the nightstand prevented it. He didn't pay too much attention to the surroundings once his body fell over hers on the bed. It were only them in this moment, and being on top of her unleashed a feverish want his psyche and body were not capable to contain anymore.

"You've chosen wisely, Mr. Fle--" his tongue was so insisting on earning a place inside her mouth that her words didn't come. Not that it bothered her, of course. Arthur’s eyes shone in a different light. It wasn’t just an exciting new hue. His fluffy dark hair, his lean muscles made a combination that made Harleen genuinely think that the man who was just a breath away to possess her wasn’t Arthur. His eyes had become greener. His stare was not only predacious. It gave the impression that he intended to enter not only her body but her soul too.

Harleen extended her hand towards the lamp to sink the room in darkness. She was close to success in her action if it wasn’t for Arthur mimicking it, just to ask her not to.

“It’s more exciting in the dark.”

“Why?”

“Because you only feel. You see nothing”.

Arthur whispered against her mouth:

“But I want to see you”.

Harleen rolled her eyes, laughing.

“Alright then” she chirped. Arthur covered her neck with doubtful kisses, afraid to make a wrong move. He then remembered:

(Like in the couch).

He stopped his course to descend to her chest. Harleen paid extreme attention to his reactions, which drifted from amazement to utter joy.

The man stood quietly, admiring the messy mane at her sides. A pink, bluish disaster covering her chest. The dark sense of dominance proper of a man who finally felt control over his life acquired a lighter shade as he distanced himself from her just enough to appreciate her astonishing beauty. Carefully, he slid a hand to dedicate his attention to the blue strands of hair, curling it around his finger, as he fantasized about for so long.

Harleen did not interrupt at all. This eccentric – but precious - way of communication was also new for her. What started as a simple invitation for a sexual encounter was progressively turning into a passionate discovery about each other. She knew Arthur wasn’t the most experienced man when it came to sex… but his enthusiasm was in no way to be questioned. Actions spoke louder than words.

The pink strands of hair winded around his fingers, uncoiling as his digits made it aside to have a good vision of her uncovered breasts. So focused he was that he did not come to realize Harleen moved her arms to allow him a better access. She looked at those arms. God, those arms. Veiny, hairy, bony. Inhabited by little spots near the elbow. It drew a sharp contrast with the softness of her skin. Soon, she would pay attention to them.

His facial expressions were a wonderful mixture of arousing disbelief and sincere admiration. Arthur seemed to be thoughtful for a few seconds on what he was going to do but he dared to slide his fingers over her collarbone, not leaving any inch of skin untouched. Then, he lowered to the sternum, circling it carefully to direct his ravenous digits to her left breast, studying the orbed part cautiously, examining its shape. The dedicated, paused fondling of it elicited a soft moan from her.

An evil, perverse grimace delineated his lips. Ah, that beautiful, sensual sound resounding again. How could he resist it?

It was with a predatory inflame that Arthur threw himself to pamper the zone with his mouth. The sudden outburst made Harleen grunt for air, grabbing the bedsheets, a violent spasm shaking her legs, making her toes curl. The voracious appetite he devoured the breast was combined with such despair that seemed the act was far from satisfying. Despite she was aware of Arthur's consistent (and certainly disturbing) fixation with female chests, she preferred to stay quiet about it and enjoy the use he gave to such compulsion. He did not restrict it to a simple suckling, as Harleen saw how he nuzzled his face against it to then cover the damp, shiny skin with kisses, sending shivers down her spine.

“Oh, Mr. Fleck… You do know how to put your mouth in use, do you?”, she felt high. As if she had taken a drug.

The flattering words enlivened him to concede the other breast the same treatment and Harleen couldn't stop flailing, now completely taken by the action. The unoccupied hand fondled her belly to pass over the hip to end in her thigh. When his mouth detached from the hardened nipple, he licked all the way up her chest and neck, savouring the salty taste of her sweat, causing Harleen to ragingly rear up. Arthur ascended to face her once more just for her to grasp the strongly angular wrist once his arms found themselves near her waist. He frowned, confused. But his apparent disapproving look contorted to a one of complete flabbergast when Harleen opened her mouth so her tongue would coax his index and middle fingers, oiling them to steer the hand towards her searing feminity. His eyes widened, like a small kid watching in awe a mischievous deed. The absolute lewd look in her eyes erased any logic sense on him, if there was any in first place.

“Sure you want to warm up things first before diving in, do you mr. Fleck?” she spread her legs and Arthur lowered his head, dealing with the joy that overflowed his being.

“Yeah”, his murmur was impatient and euphoric, “I can’t wait to…” he couldn’t say it.

“Come on. Don’t be shy” she chuckled, frisky, “say it”.

“I just can’t wait to do it inside you”. She gladly approved as their hands went on tune on her intimacy. Arthur was startled, “but I don’t… I have never done this to a woman”.

Harleen nodded eagerly.

“Then allow me to show you how”, a toothy, naughty grin was all he got as a reply. He ended up emulating her. The grin was substituted to a temptative whisper:

"There... There". The first touches to become familiar and then to please them. This new action left Arthur completely speechless. A mess of joined hands constantly massaged the silky, wet little space of hers. It didn't had an effect on Harleen only, making the rigid consistency return.

He smirked, evilly, as they took their time. Despite his restiveness, he knew patience would pay off. The caress went over the slick folds which soon would welcome him, kneading it constantly. His slender fingers then began to approach by own initiative, applying what he just had learned. Seconds later, with the same patience, Harleen made him stop precisely at the weakest point of a woman. He sensed a humid nub. As their hands began rubbing it, Arthur noticed it made her body jounce, a chain of gratifying sounds fleeing her throat. He was not able to stop staring at the body part receiving the sweet and lecherous attention, putting more effort into it. Gradually her hand got away to let him take the iniciative now, encircling it.

The uncontrollable tremble that shook her legs made her close her eyes. Arthur stood there, his hand still stimulating her sex as intensely as posible, spellbound, captivated by her reactions. He leaned a bit when her breaths stirred her chest for more air. The blonde panted, trying to look for something to cling to as she was coming to her peak.

“Arthur… I can't—I can’t endure it anym—“ The phrase marked the last thing she could control before the fulminant end. Mellifluous moans came from her mouth, praising him, calling his name repeatedly. He was certainly bewitched at the image. So lost in the ecstasy that only the amatory practice could bring her, Harleen missed the fact Arthur did not blink in any moment, recording obsessively every move.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about” his chuckle causing her insides quiver. He loved how her muscles twitched on his hand, priding himself on the magnificent reaction he had caused on her.

Arthur patiently awaited for her to regain her breath before the best part would take place. He placed his hands at her sides to remain firm, his muscles tense and strong as a rock, marking the defined biceps Harleen loved so much. She opened her eyes just in the right moment when the hungry loner expected to end the hunger that harmed their souls so much.

Harleen caressed his cheeks with the backs of her hands. Arthur leaned so their foreheads would touch. It was a torture for him as well. He placed a hand on her hip, sliding it down to the inner thigh, aligning his stiffened arousal in her entrance, brushing the sensitive nub with his tip. The tease took her breath away, making her spine twist.

"Oh, God… please… please…", her vision blurred, her senses numb.

"I know"

"Please!" She begged, "I need you inside of me, please". The hopelessness in her voice did not manage to act immediately but it certainly had a great impact on him. The fear of not being capable of carrying the dominance now sparked a furious, impetuous need to silence the voices that insisted he wasn’t man enough to please a woman.

Through a furious, vehement move, Arthur finally made his way inside her, a sharp hiss and a vivid expression of sexual bliss seizing his facial features. He abruptly shut his eyes at the tight inner grip, lips slightly parted, hearing Harleen let out a long, languishing moan. She arched her back, squirming beneath him. Arthur smiled, extremely pleased at the erotic reaction while still trying to find a more comfortable angle to keep doing his part. He wanted more, however, and he was gonna manifest it by holding her chin in his thumb and index finger. Harleen opened her eyes while Arthur awaited her reaction as she received him fully. Taking a deep breath, he managed to open his eyes to cherish the fantastic view of her trying to handle his hard length making a place inside the best way she could. She held his head, carefully tugging his curls.

Invader and invaded stared at each other.

"Take your time... We're not in a rush". The calm words soothed the anxiety prior to sex but the pleasure the act had to offer them rushed him to resume their act: Arthur deepened the insertion into her hot, velvety intimacy. Harleen gasped while becoming used to his presence inside of her, taking utter delight in the raw feeling of her warm walls adjusting to the intrusion, sensing every nerve shuddering and throbbing around him. Her mouth was open, yet no words were articulated. Maybe because they weren’t necessary.

As for the loner, his vocal expressions of pleasure went from a heavy gasp, then to a loud groan to a thunderous moan.

"Fuck---!" Arthur cried out, while struggling to form a coherent word but he was way too aroused to dedicate energy to other action, except for moaning against each other's mouth, never breaking eye contact.

The first few seconds following their fleshes fully merging into one, Arthur experimented with paused and insecure moves, afraid to hurt her if he ever accelerated the pace but also afraid to ridicule himself if he’d last less than one minute. His slow thrusts allowed a better way to cope with the overwhelming, tight heat that kept their privacies tied together. He caught an steady rhythm that finally eased down. Sliding in and out, down and forward. Just two individuals who tried to bond despite their differences.

“Y—You”, Harleen suddenly pronounced herself. Arthur huffed for air as he paid attention, “you feel… you feel so good inside me”.

“I can--, I can tell”, he could hardly articulate.

Pressing his body against hers, Harleen whispered:

“We really lost a lot of time, did we?”

She let her hands, avidly and blindly, over his chest and collarbone as his hips, by mere sexual instinct, insisted on a faster, harder pace. To increase his confidence and to let him know she enjoyed it, her legs pressed his hips. For a moment, Arthur stopped, taking the opportunity to regain all the air in heavy pants. Harleen held his face, making aside the curly, sweaty locks that formed over his face. His aroused but exhausted expression was a delight to see.

“I swear to God—“ his ragged breath made his voice sound raspy, “if you keep doing that—“ another difficult exhaling move, “I won’t last too long”.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to”.

"I'm not upset" his shortened breath intake aroused her just as much his insertion did.

The rain intensified. Drops clashed against the window. It proved to be a pleasant background sound as the two lovers expressed their feelings through their bodies. Arthur certainly had the time of his entire fucking life engulfing himself in her over and over and over again. The rhythm worked perfectly slow for the two of them as they slid together, in perfect harmony, over the bed. The pace that carried them away from sanity was combined with passionate, wet kisses, sometimes tugging on his bottom lip and tangling her tongue in his mouth, kissing him behind the earlobe, whispering sensual words.

Arthur had the perfect gift to reaffirm his existence and Harleen’s whispery voice calling his name just ended up pushing him deeper and deeper. Where did he suddenly become so strong to hold on for so long? He’d never know.

Between moans and kisses, Harleen returned the passionate gestures with a strong, bloody scratch in his ribs. Arthur broke the kiss with a loud, pleased groan, responding to the scratch with a harsh thrust. Harleen screamed beneath him. Arthur, lightheaded by the sexually charged response, just stood still, trying to not give in to the already close peak of the act.

Harleen was ready to make clear how much the sudden irruption had upset her when she heard an unintelligible mumble.

"Uhh. What?" Harleen could hardly heard his petition.

"Do that again", he whispered. The frown on her eyebrows revealed how much puzzled she was.

"Do wha--?”

The harsh thrust took her by surprise, as expressed by the intoxicating sound that made Arthur so infatuated. As he delighted in the joy of obtaining exactly what he wanted, Harleen heard a a sweet, malevolent whisper:

"That’s better...". It ghosted his lips, more to himself. He supported entirely on his arms, to keep on the rough onslaught. Those screams were music to his ears and he had plenty of reasons on why he deserved to hear more of them when he believed she had something else to say.

The blonde mouthed. And Arthur read her lips.

(Harder)

Harleen placed her hands at the sides of her head, abandoning herself to Arthur‘s mercy. She wanted it? She would get it. Another plea gone with the air, an arm on the matress reinforcing the pace to make it rougher and rougher. She felt she was unable to speak his name anymore, not knowing what aroused her the most: if having him inside her or hearing his assiduous effort to breathe through the final and most exciting part of their act.

Exhaling aggressively, Arthur hung on to the mattress to harden the already brutal slamming that had reduced Harleen to an incoherent mess. His jaw dropped as the pleasure was becoming unbearable, growling as he leaned his head to keep closer to her. His arm was a key to maintain the disastrous rhythm as unrestrained but steady, grasping the wood which mattress was made of. The limb showed hard lines, ligaments standing out of the skin.

She legitimately thought, in a short moment of lucidity, that his arm would end up breaking it down. Neither of them heard a furious knocking on the wall, asking them to quiet down their sounds. Even if they did, they wouldn't care. Harleen sensed he'd love the idea of the whole building hearing their scandal.

When the excessive sensitivity down there traced a faint line between pain and pleasure, her moans echoed louder and louder, pushing Arthur to his limit.

“Look at me”

It was hard to keep eyes open at this point. Harleen did her best but Arthur mistook it as another little game of hers.

“Look at me”, he hissed.

She inhaled deeply, turning her head towards him.

“Look at me!” he yelled, desperate.

She quickly did as he demanded.

“Look at me when it happens”, he was not angry, despite the fierce, crazed stare suggested otherwise.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” he hissed under his breath, trying to keep up with the rampant search for release despite how much exhausting it proved to him. He wasn’t willing to be defeated: his hands fell to her sides to pound faster and more erratically, almost tearing the bedsheets. Harleen was unable to speak now, restricting to whimpers that granted him an inconmensurable feeling of power.

Then it happened. It caught him sooner than he initially had intended, but that didn't make it any less delightful. The blonde screamed his name at the top of her lungs as the spectacular orgasm hit her.

That was too much for him to bear.

One more enthusiastic, desperate thrust and it was over. Harleen had no control over her reaction, imprisoning him completely with her legs and arms crossed over his body. A hot attempt to retain her lover, clenching as hard as she could possibly do. They shared a fleeting gaze as he spilled himself in a wave of nervous, uncontrollable convulsions that spurred his nerves. She would never forget the expression that moulded by the moment: his face was an authentic, vivid expression of ecstasy. His eyes closed, catching air, sweating profusely, rebellious locks falling down. The desperation in his voice diminished to a pleasured groan to a exhausted, but satisfied series of sighs. He finally collapsed on top of her, hiding their faces in each other's neck.

“Easy…” she muttered while Arthur bathed in his newfound masculinity. She knew the magnitude of his enrapture when he displayed no reaction at all when she caressed his hair.

Arthur was enjoying his blissful release inside her, memorising every little sensation. The soft sighs escaping his mouth made her believe he had finally lost the little touch he had left with reality.

He still wanted more, though. Arthur refused to break the physical bond, not getting over the warmth narrowing around him, looking for more thrills, seed still dripping.

“You’re hard to quit” Arthur hissed, breathless.

“I'm not asking you to ”, and both laughed.

Harleen untangled a few curls, enjoying how they recoiled to their original form, emptiness replacing the fullness of his presence once he was gone. Laying on their sides to face each other, now under the blankets. The water falling in the sky helped them to concile slumber.

"I'll be hardly out of you after this, Harleen" was the last thing she heard before lights were off.

________________________________________

It was cold. It was wednesday and the train was full. Arthur had gone early to his weekly therapy with the social worker. Once he reached the building, waiting in the hallway. He smoked a cigarette, journal on the inner part of his hoodie, a confident smirk lining his lips.

The grimace did not change at all when he got into the office, greeting her and taking a seat. It started with the usual 'how's your job?', 'are you having negative thoughts?'. Arthur replied more confidently, without avoiding eye contact as he always did. The worker noted immediately a dark, evil glint in his eyes. He couldn't stop smiling just as he couldn't see how much his new attitude unsettled her. She decided to ask for his journal, asking if there was something wrong or different. Arthur just took another long drag of his cigarette, smiling to himself.

Once the copybook was handed to her, the worker noticed a brief, new sentence along a photograph of a beautiful young woman whose platinum hair showed different colours from the half down. She was dressed in a short red dress and smiled.

She read outloud the phrase written in red. Arthur had to suppress a cackle to not get too much attention from her. He deducted by her expression she did not understand it but he did not expect her to.

“I’m prod of mysel”.

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darling-i-read-it · 5 years ago

Text

Park Swings

Robert Lewis x reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none I don’t think

Author’s Note: Bro I love this movie and I forgot how much I loved this movie and Ewan in this movie and ugh I just adore it and I hope you guys like this. Also this is my last request! Finally! So we shall see, I’m thinking of opening requests again soon but I kinda wanna do stuff I want rn so we shall see.

Requested: by anon, ik requests r closed and stuff and NO RUSH in anyyyyy way but like if you could ever write something for robert from a life less ordinary that’d be amazing !!

Summary: A first date with Robert in a park

Genre: FLUFF

Song:

(not my gif)

“And the daughter of Kennedy and Monroe solves this big mystery. Is that too predictable?” Robert asked as you threw your legs up onto his lap. You were sitting on the bench of some park you had never seen before and he had bought you ice cream with the last of his change (not that you knew that yet). You finished the vanilla cone and shrugged, your eyes wandering from him to the kids playing around the grass.

“I like it. Like an airport book right, one you read on the flight,” you suggested offhandedly but he got really excited at the mention of an airport and it caused you to laugh. He sat up more, nearly knocking your feet off of him.

“Exactly! Exactly,” he muttered the last bit, a faint giddy smile on his face.

It was your first date with Robert and so far you were having a blast. The two of you had walked around the city and made fun of the rich people in their big buildings. He had just gotten fired from his job at one of them and had some extra ammunition this time. You had been friends for a bit but there was an obvious attraction that was hard to deny so you asked him out on a date. He was amazed that you wanted a date. With him no less! You seemed like such an independent person, he thought for sure you would never want to date him even if it made him sad sometimes. He thought you were really cool. And hot. He was not denying you were very hot.

You had somehow landed at this park mid afternoon and were perfectly content with hanging around there.

“I think maybe you should throw in Elvis or something. Might spice things up a bit if he shows somewhere. Or maybe his son if we want to make it trashier,” you said. You sat up and put your feet back on the ground and leaned into his side. He threw an arm around you out of instinct and was now happy that he had because you snuggled closer to him.

“Elvis is a good idea. I’ll credit you in the acknowledgements,” he muttered and you laughed a little under your breath. Your eyes followed a little girl who was running up the stairs to the slide and then watched as her mom called her from the other side of the park, telling her it was time to leave. The parks numbers were dwindling before your eyes.

“When was the last time you went down a slide?” you asked, looking up at Robert. He shrugged, his eyes also fixated on the many moving parts of the small playground in front of you.

“When I was like 6 or something. Why?” You shrugged and moved away from him, walking over to the edge of the bark. There was only about two kids now and you saw that they were being called away. The popular playground was now empty of children and you snatched the opportunity.

The whole place itself was hidden carefully behind some trees and a building. It was hard to actually see the city from anywhere in the park so normally no one could see you from the street. You stepped up the few stairs that were spaced for children and not you. You reached the top and leaned against the slide railing, looking over at Robert who was smiling.

“Well are you going to come?”

“Will I fit?” he inquired, rising from the bench. You shrugged, not really being able to tell. You were pretty sure you could fit so he could probably fit as well. If he tried anyway.

“Sure! Come on Rob,” you teased with a smile, sitting down to steady yourself, legs on the cool plastic of the slide. Robert made his way up quickly and couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he watched you push yourself down the park toy. You landed on the ground with a thud as your feet caught your balance. Your hair fell in front of your face as your laughter mixed with his. He quickly followed you and it turned out that he did fit and landed hard on the ground, reaching forward to grab your legs and balance himself. You held his shoulder so you didn’t fall down either as he stood up, laughter still bubbling in the air.

“We might break it if we do it again,” he told you, his hands on your upper arms. You nodded in agreement.

“Well I suppose we’ll just have to go swing then.”

You easily pounced over to the swings, away from his grip which he wasn't fond of but he did follow you. You both sat down and you started pumping your legs nearly immediately to gain air under you.

The laughter died down after a moment and conversation picked up.

“I like you Rob,” you said after a few minutes of random discussion. He gave himself and you a proud grin. He had really wanted you to like him because he really liked you too.

“I like you too. Although I may have liked you a little less if I had gotten stuck on the slide,” he joked. Your lips turned up and you reached across the swing to hit him, despite the two of you being pretty high up before falling back down in a rhythm.

“You didn’t get stuck!” you protested.

You figured there was no way this first date was going to be your last.

Ewan: @daphne-fandom-writing , @satanslov3r @records-and-stardust @broodybats

#robert lewis x reader #robert lewis imagines #ewan mcgregor x reader

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yaboymercury · 6 years ago

Text

Ripping 9 to 5 - Fireman

Gary really should have been focusing more on guiding his class around the fire station but how could he stop himself from getting distracted. That glowingly attractive fireman just kept up showing up in his peripheral vision, around firetrucks and by garage doors. But instead of getting a proper look at the enchanting man, he had to reign interest in the 'senior' fire protection officer to keep his class interested.

Even when he was filtering the kids back onto the bus he couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret that he never got to interact with the man. After waving his students off, all Gary had to do was leave a cheque in the main office of the fire station to pay for the trip and drive home to a bottle of wine in his own car.

Wandering back towards the office Gary couldn't help but actively take a longer route through the station trying to get a look for the cute fireman but to no avail.

But of course being the klutz he is, when bending down to leave the cheque on a table, Gary's ass managed to knock over a large rack of fireman's helmets. Tired and frustrated after a long day Gary quite dramatically sunk to his knees sighing and dragged himself around the floor stacking plastic helmets. The scraping of helmets and his tired state overpowered the sound of footsteps.

"Hey... you need some help down there."

A glimmer of happiness showed itself inside of Gary and he saw a hand being offered to him. Was it him? Looking up from the grubby hand, up the toner arm, to the relatively unzipped fireman's jumpsuit, it was Gary's first proper look at the better-looking-up-close fireman. Probably smiling more than he should be all Gary could murmer was: "Yeah" as he made sure to fully clasp the rugged hand and let himself be pulled up.

Still with a smiling the radiant fireman gave Gary a more quizzical look.

"No offence or anything but who are you?"

Realising that on some level he was technically trespassing, Gary quickly put the helmets on a table and panicked a little to explain himself.

"Oh well, I'm a teacher from the class being shown around today, well they were being shown around, they're gone now, but I'm just dropping off the payment and well I knocked down those helmets, and well then you came" taking a breathe finally and blushing a little "and now you're here, and I should go."

Gary was mortified at how much of a fool he was making himself look. He had to escape sure the man was hot but he didn't have a chance in hell with him. He began shuffling out of the room.

PHHHHHHHHHRALLLP

Was that what Gary thought it was? Turning around he saw the same attractive fireman standing with one leg cocked up and wafting a hand from his ass almost in Gary's direction. Gary understood why quickly when the hot eggy stink hit him making his eyes sting.

"I would apologize, but you were kind of rambling and that's been proven to be my best way of grabbing people's attention."

All Gary could do was stand mouth open in shock at the man's unconventional attention seeking method.

"But yeah you were leaving and well I wanted to chat." He leaned back onto a table relaxing his position and cocked his head and gave Gary and inviting smile like the burst of flatulence never happened.

The fart smelt repulsive, it smelt like pure rotten ass, which may have been why it subconsciously enticed Gary. He wasn't a particularly picky man but he was incredibly into ass, raunchy or clean, and he liked to be able to be comfortable around men. That relaxed yet powerful fart and the incredibly intense asslike pheremones while humiliating on one level, made him even more attracted to the fireman. The fireman who now wanted to talk to him.

Finally collecting himself Gary stumbled back into the office and offered "Well I'm not exactly against chatting, I'm Gary."

Standing up to stand facing Gary, maybe a little more close than what would be considered particularly heterosexual he replied with a quick wink: "Logan"

Pausing for a moment to think Logan stuck his tongue out a little wetting his lips. How could Gary not stare.

"This office is boring as shit, want me to show you a private area?" Again he winked, sending Gary's brain into a frenzy with the innuendo of private area. But he couldn't freak out too much, he'd already tested his luck enough with this man.

"I hope it's going to be more interesting than the tour."

"I promise." And he grabbed Gary's hand a began pulling him through the station laughing. The intimacy and immaturity of it made Gary giddy all he could do was stumble behind holding on to his outstretched arm.

As they weaved in-between trucks and poles. Gary and Logan kept snatching glances at eachother. But also Gary was quite enchanted by Logan's ass now bouncing behind him. Could this man be any more perfect.

Pssssssssssssssssh

Luckily or unluckily for Gary he was downwind from Logan as he released the putrid SBD. It almost made him fall down at the heat of the smell but at least he had a giggling Logan supporting him.

"Oh and by the way just becuase I think you're cute doesn't mean I won't stop farting in front of you." Gary was so starstruck by the compliment that he completely ignored the threat of future flatulence. "Can't handle the fart, can't have the fart." Logan continued chuckling some more.

From back where the two came from Gary heard a shout.

"Fucking hell, really Logan can't you stop for once!"

Logan grinned at the power his lingering SBD had. He shouted back a reply:

"Try and do better next time!"

Giving Logan a confused look Logan still smiling explained.

"Just to inform you're talking to the winner of every fart competition in this here fire department, be impressed, I'll pause for applause..."

"Congratulations." Gary replied half sarcastically and half worried and maybe a little turned on. Well who wouldn't find a groups of competitively farting firemen sexy. At least that's what Gary convinced himself.

Picking up on Gary's sarcasm Logan came to a quick halt making Gary bump into his slightly exposed chest. "Oh I'll get you for that one..." He smiled daringly down at Gary. Again who wouldn't find that sexy.

"Well this is my one..." Logan patted the side of the firetruck they had stopped next to. He opened the door climbing up to the door he held out a hand for Gary "Wanna come in, we can get some privacy?" Who could resist?

Taking Logan's hand once again Gary clambered up into the truck. It was big in the sense that the windscreen was massive and so was the control panel and wheel section on the inside. But when it came to seating it was just two seats quite close together. Neither of them had any complaints.

It also seemed like Logan didn't have any trouble making himself comfortable putting one of hi legs up resting on the wheel and spread the other so it was touching Gary, and his arms were spread out as well one put suggestively around Gary's shoulder. With his arms so outstretched and his suit now slightly more unzipped Logan's armpit stink was also becoming a lot more obvious. Gary didn't mind the fact that he was rapidly learning how generally smelly of a person Logan was.

Hearing a click Gary noticed the door was locked.

"Sorry man it's protocol, yeah protocol."

Gary was sure he was lying, but his survival instinct was being severely beaten by his lust.

"But anyway" Logan started fumbling in the glovebox and pulled out some bars "you want some fibre bars they're good?" He ravenously unwrapped one and practically ate it in one bite.

"Nah I'm good thanks."

"Well more for me then..." and Logan scoffed that bar as well.

Gary was thinking how horny he must be because he was even finding Logan eating the bars sexy. "Wow you sure are fond of those." He leaned closer into Logan.

Logan leaned back into him. "Well I'm sure you can guess why that is. Lifting his leg up.

FRRRRRRRRRRRRRAPPPPPT

The blast rippled against the chair and filled the small truck cabin with a hot eggy stink.

It was a lot and the smell was almost hurting Gary but it came from the proud Gary's ass so it made him unbelievably hard.

"Fuck that's disgusting..."

And he dove on top of Gary and they began to kiss hungrily. The stench clouding them was strong but all it seemed to do was further intoxicate their brains. As they broke apart the fireman unzipped his suit fully exposing his chest and to follow Gary unbuttoned his shirt.

FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPP

Logan laughed raucously at the power of the blast and began wafting the fabric of the shit so the stink could hit Gary. And it hit him hard. He began rubbing against Logan more furiously.

"If I'm not confused it seems like you might be into my butt bombs, am I correct?"

I'm that moment Gary realised he was, but it didn't bother him so he just leaned into his ear and whispered.

"Well I am if they come from you.."

Smirking Logan said in a slightly more assertive tone "Oh God Gary you have no idea what you just signed up for..."

With that Logan grabbed the back of Gary's head and pushed it down in between his legs and on his crotch.

PHHHHHHHHHRALLLP

PAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRP

BBBBHRRRRRAPPPP

It was a barrage on Gary's nose and the stink was unbearable but the domination just made him even more turned on.

"Why don't you try sniffing it down there, I don't want to stink this place up too much?"

So Gary did using his nose as much as he could but his body was trying to stop him since the stench hurt him so much. But he still tried his best to inhale as much of Logan's ass stink as possible.

"Maybe it's just how bad my gas is but dude I can still smell it up here..." Logan pulled up Gary's head and with his other hand untucked his erect pole of a penis showing it off to the now salivating dirty Gary.

Using his strong arms he lifted Gary back onto his lap "Take off those trousers or I'll rip them off." It was a threat but still said with his charm. In attempt to be playful Gary turned around and leaned on the wheel pointing his ass at Logan letting out a fart of his own.

Pppppprffft

"So why don't you try and rip them off?"

Logan took what seemed to be a sniff of Gary's fart and chuckled.

"Good try but I think you really can't compare" With on hand he ripped off the ass and back of Gary's trousers making him moan in shock and proceeded to pull down the boxers underneath giving them a slap for good measure.

"And somehow that wasn't the biggest rip of today..."

PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAPTTTT

"I'd say that was." He gave the entranced Gary a grin. The haze of hot gas hit Gary and attacked all parts of him it could. The eggy stink burning his nose and making him cough, and the heat of it making him sweat.

With Logan still having his cock out, Gary having his ass out and a wave of gaseous horniness clouding them, all Gary could do was clamber onto Gary's musky sweaty dick and start bouncing.

But each time Gary's ass slid down Logan's cock it obviously pushed a fart out of him.

PRFFFFFTTTT "Wow Gary that hole of yours is really doing a good job" FRRRAPPP "And I'm surprised a fragile guy like you can keep it up his my strong stink" PHHHHHRT "Really, usually no one could endure this much" BRTTTTTT "But I guess I'm just lucky I found myself a stink slut" PAAAAARAP

Logan with his signature gassy grin pulled Gary's moaning head in for a kiss.

"But now I think it's time for by burning ass to have its chance to speak uninterrupted..."

Moaning wildly Gary started bouncing his ass roughly on Logan again as he let out his most catastrophic blast yet.

PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUSSSSHHHHHH

It was like a powerful windy gas leak filling the trick with a haze of boiling stink. It went on for what seemed like minutes. It's toxicity seemed to pleasure Logan taking deep whiffs of his own stink and moaning, while it completely took over Gary's conscience making his dick quiver as he inhaled the stink making him cum over Logan's chest, Logan soon followed inside Gary.

The euphoria they were both in was undescribable but the mixture of the toxicity of Logan's flatulence and exhaustion made Gary pass out in Logan's cum slicked chest.

Finally getting a moment to appreciate his work getting a good whiff, Logan wondering how he was going to explain himself to the crowd of horny firemen standing around his truck.

#eproctophilia #fart #fart story #fartfiction #gay #gay fart #male fart #flatulence #stink #r9t5

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hooptrition · 3 years ago

Text

Patty Mills brings it back home

“Who would've thought?” The text message on her phone finished with four words that sent Rebecca Kelley wandering off down a memory trail that dated back to the year 2000.

As assistant coach for the Canberra Under 14 boys team in that year, she had been part of the team's season that culminated with a trip to Townsville in far north Queensland for the Australian Club Championships. And it was her mum Di, having been that team's manager, who was now texting the question that had to be asked, as the baby of that long forgotten team, Patty Mills, prepared to return home with the NBA Championship trophy.

In all the wonderful hoopla that accompanied Patty's return to Canberra, including the awarding of the Keys to the City, the story behind the story and the lessons it may hold still lies in wait, to hopefully be applied to and appreciated by following generations of youngsters and their parents.

Kelley, now a deputy director in Canberra's governmental machine and a mum to her own growing family, remembers a tiny youngster who was already moving to a different beat.

“He was the first kid I'd ever seen wearing headphones as he wandered around and naturally I had to ask him just what he was listening to. He gave me a listen and I have to say that the rap I heard from Eminem really wasn't my thing and in fact wasn't really something that most kids in Canberra were even aware existed at that time,” she explained.

Despite being the youngest and smallest and not having much of playing role at that national tournament, Patty was the central team motivator and energy creator for the group, revealing for the first time possibly the origins of his world famous towel waving antics years later in San Antonio for the Spurs.

“On the team bus he'd be standing up, singing and carrying on and more often than not would have the whole team standing up rapping and dancing along. Here was the baby of the team who wasn't playing much and yet he had a unique rapport with all the kids, on the bench he was constantly animated and vocal and at training he was going the whole time.

“You wouldn't have thought back then he was a kid going places. He was good but he wasn't outstanding, but who knew what was ahead?”

Kelley's last honest reflection is part of a larger question that has produced an incalculable amount of literature and theorising about just what is talent, whether it's mostly down to nature or nurture and what exactly are the things we should be looking for that might indicate a tiny 11 year-old might one day scale the basketball world?

By the next year Patty had started to blossom on the court and at an Under 14 tournament hosted by key regional rivals the Illawarra Hawks, he began a rivalry with Hawks star forward Daniel Jackson that would track all the way to the Australian Institute of Sport (AIS) and Australian Junior teams.

Brad Luhrs who has a been a seemingly constant figure over the past fifteen years in Canberra junior basketball was Patty's coach at that event for the first time.

“You could tell he was a clear standout at that level then,” Luhrs said, “as was Jackson for Illawarra, though he was way taller and bigger.”

“Patty was quick and he had great ball handling skills but if you'd asked me then, I would have thought the other kids would eventually catch up or that he'd slow down.”

Within a couple of years Patty was the point guard general for Canberra's Under 16 State team and had begun to draw the interest of national talent identification coaches who were part of the now disbanded Intensive Training Centre (ITC) across the country.

Naturally Patty had also attracted the attention of other sports, and as well as setting and still holding almost every junior record at Woden Little Athletics club, he dabbled in Australian Rules football alongside his basketball.

Jason Denley was Patty's coach for the Australian Capital Territory (ACT) team that contested the Under 16 National Championships in 2003, Patty still being 14 at the time due to his very unGladwellian August birthdate.

“He was small, incredibly fast and utterly fearless and for a kid with such athletic talent and I was most surprised by his lack of ego,” Denley said. “He never complained to referees and somehow he seemed to be someone that his teammates and opponents both admired for the endless energy and passion he brought to every play.”

ESPN's Sports columnist Bill Simmons has long held a view that every successful franchise needs a team “Chemist” to keep everyone happy and connected and along those exact lines Patty was continuing to expand his role as the supreme on and off court motivator.

“There was a group in our large boys and girls ITC training sessions that Patty used to be one of the leaders of, and in the warm up stretching they would launch into singing that they had obviously choreographed some time before,” Luhrs remembered.

“Amazingly James Taylor's 'How sweet it is to be loved by you' is the one that sticks in my head and to hear 14 and 15 year old boys harmonising and chiming in at coordinated spots at the top of their voices might have been something other coaches wouldn't have tolerated. Somehow though that sort of comfortability as a group and self-confidence was their calling card and at the end of the day how can you not want that?”

An invitation to his first Australian Junior Camp followed soon after 2003's Under 16 Nationals and as that camp stretched across an age range from 14 to 17 Patty was once more the smallest and youngest fish in a pond that was becoming increasingly concentrated.

At the camp Patty was one of the two standouts guard prospects along with Victoria's Scott Pendlebury, who would famously eventually choose Australian rules football over basketball thus clearing the way for Patty to start on scholarship at the AIS.

Brian Goorjian was at that time the new Australian Boomers Head Coach following on from the team's disastrous qualifying loss to New Zealand that had scuttled 2002's World Championship plans and he was front and centre at that camp to see what the next generation had in store for the program.

“Within the first half hour of Goorjian arriving on the floor there was one kid that he used exclusively to demonstrate every defensive and offensive drill,” Denley recalled.

“Paaaatty get out here, delivered in a rolling Californian twang, was pretty much the chorus for the camp and despite being so young, Patty was clearly already some sort of leader by the dint of his sheer energy and joy for each task and endless clapping and hollering for anyone and anything he or the group came across.”

Interestingly, at the same time Goorjian was possibly signalling that even at that early stage Patty was going to be part of his national team plans (Patty would eventually find his way to the Beijing in 2008), an entirely different version of Aron Baynes to that which played a part in this year's Spurs triumph alongside Patty was lumbering through drills at the camp.

Shortly after that camp Patty moved in to the AIS on a full time basis but still maintained his role as the spiritual leader of the ACT junior teams he continued to play for at Junior National championships.

“My overriding memory is of his infectious energy, the talk and support that just never waned,” Luhrs recalled from his later time as ACT Under 18s Head Coach. “And this was with him as the star of the team and it was obvious that this wasn't just something he discovered when he was sitting on the bench. It was part of him.”

At the AIS Patty bought all his familiar calling cards into play as then Men's Assistant Coach Paul Gorris confirmed.

“You'd watch him play and he was super quick and talented but when you think back then about the idea of the NBA you never could have imagined it,” he said.

“I was lucky enough to also be coaching the ACT Under 20 team back then and the thing that sticks with me is just how humble he was around the group. He was our big ticket item, with everything run around him and all his team-mates knew that, yet he was always mindful of involving them. He was playing with his mates he'd been with since they were 11 or 12 and they were quite happy to defer to him as needed, but somehow he was able to keep things so that it was never about him.”

The all singing and dancing Patty was still very much in evidence in those team and Gorris' favourite memory of those teams inevitably gravitates back to the off-court feel of the group Patty inspired.

“Back the there was an unwritten rule that I'd drive the 12-seater van to the stadium for each game and everyone would sing along to whatever sort of weird music the team had selected to prepare with. Naturally it was Patty and his cousin, Luke Currie-Richardson, (now not surprisingly a dancer with the world famous Bangarra Indigenous company) who would be leading the chorus up the front of the van. Coming into Ballarat stadium with the whole bus rocking along in full voice is something I never grow tired of remembering.”

For an outsider looking in, the overriding question would have be to just how did this diminutive energiser bunny with super quicks, a solid skill package, a streaky shooting stroke (the recent improvement in which is story all of its own a certain Mr Engelland may be able to explain more fully) and seemingly unquenchable faith in the power of positive encouragement make it in arguably the world's single most challenging athletic league?

Rebecca Kelley recalled running into Patty on occasions around the AIS years after her involvement with the Under 14s.

“He was always one of those people you have touch points with and although my involvement with his basketball career was like a grain of sand on the beach, he's always remembered me and is always quick with the 'G'day Rebecca!' and a chat. I guess it's part of his personality, he's a nice guy and he's not just going to be a great athlete, he's going to be a leader in his own way like the Cathy Freeman of this generation.”

Gorris has been in regular touch with Patty since he first left for St Mary's College in 2007 and commented how much he hasn't changed despite the time away and the constant spotlight.

“He's matured and grown up a little bit from worldly experience but deep down it's still, the same Pat, still very much about the family, still very much about everyone else.” he said.

In the back end of 2011 during the NBA lockout Patty played nine games for the Melbourne Tigers before a forgettable stint in China and his rescue by the Spurs early in 2012. He was four or five in line on San Antonio's guard depth rotation then yet something about him and his approach to that situation or challenge separated him. To watch Greg Popovich's (San Antonio's Head Coach) grizzly visage turn sunny side up every time Patty and his side line support antics were mentioned in interviews during ensuing years is in itself truly amazing.

Is it possible that the natural talent of selflessness and never-ending positive energy is actually way more powerful and valuable than any analyst can put a finger on? Are the tendencies Patty displayed way back in 2000 as a 12 year-old in Townsville the sort of things talent identifiers should be more heavily factoring in?

Are team “Chemists” as Simmons like to call them, a species all to themselves that someone should be tracking or nurturing?

Fittingly Daniel Jackson, Patty's regional rival from those heady junior days has now migrated to Canberra as one of the centre-pieces of the city's semi-professional team, and trying to size up exactly how Patty has been able to do what he's done thus far, is maybe best left to him.

“I've known him since he was 12 and never heard anyone say anything but what a great guy he is...not that he's a nice enough guy or a good guy, but a great guy.” he offered, “and when that's the case there's no doubt it's easier to succeed as everyone in your team is in your corner and pulling for you to be good.”

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