#and I enjoyed going through my old things

[lizzyk137]

It's A Date- A Spencer Reid Fanfiction (Spencer X Reader)

Description: Spencer does not want to go to the BAU picnic but goes because he has a crush on you and suddenly Spencer is good a baseball which shocks everyone. Warning: None, just pure fluff

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Two minutes.

Just two more minutes.

Only two more minutes until the entire team could leave for a fun filled afternoon together without the worry of trying to catch a serial killer.

Hotch could see how restless the team was after having five back-to-back cases with no break and too much paperwork. So, he set some time aside for a small break for the team to relax and have some fun. A picnic at the park with some team friendly games.

You were excited, ecstatic even, about being able to enjoy an afternoon in the sun and just relax. Everyone was bringing a dish to share and even though you weren't great at sports, you were excited to play a few games with everyone.

The clocked chimed as it hit three o'clock and everyone cheered, quickly grabbing their already packed items before heading out the door, Hotch reminding everyone to meet at the park at four and to remember their food dish. You looked around smiling as everyone hurried to the door before stepping inside and turning to face the front as you saw Spencer, your best friend and long-time crush, dragging his feet as he made his way to the elevator.

Morgan and Emily called out to him to pick up the pace, as Hotch pushed the open-door button to keep the elevator from moving. Spencer finally stepped inside, chest to chest with you, a fake smile placed on his face. You knew he wasn't thrilled to be going, that he would rather go home and read or visit the outdoor theatre to watch an old film. You finally convinced him to go that it would be fun to try new things, him reminding you that playing any sport wasn't new or fun to him, the memories of gym classes still haunting his mind.

You had just patted his back reminding him that the team were not his old classmates and trying to play something without dreading it was something new to him. He just shrugged and agreed to go after you flashed him your puppy dog eyes, a look he could never say no to.

The park was right by your house, so you decided to walk over, seeing almost everyone was already there and helped set up the picnic table full of food with Penelope and JJ. It felt nice to chat openly with everyone about life and pure silliness without having to worry about keeping it short between solving a case. Everyone was sitting down to eat when you realized someone was missing. Spencer.

You reached for your phone when you heard his voice behind you. "I know I'm late, I'm sorry." You looked up at him from your spot on the grass with a smile, taking in his work clothes that he was still wearing.

"I'm glad you could make it! I saved you a spot." You patted the spot next to you and he sat down next to you before you bumped your shoulder with his. "Are you ready for a fun night?"

He sighed before stealing a chip off your plate. "Honestly, not really."

You gave a sad smile and offered your plate to him to pick off of. "At least try to keep an open mind to it." He just hummed his response and took half of your sandwich, laying his head down on your lap for you to play with his hair.

----

You were playing baseball with everyone, Spencer still seated on the grass, reading a book with occasional peek up at you. He wasn't excited to play baseball but he enjoyed watching you get excited, your laugh echoing through the air, your smile bright. He loved it when you were happy, your smile always getting lost in the gore of your job. He noticed you looking at him, worry buried between your brows, and he knew you were worried about him not joining in. An hour into the game, he sighed and set his book down then made his way over to you in the makeshift dug out area.

He poked your shoulder, something he always did to let you know he was there when he came up behind you. "Are you joining?" A hopeful look on your face when you asked. He nodded and gave you a small smile. He didn't want to join but he just couldn't say no to you.

It was your turn to bat, and you struck out every time, a playful pout on your lips as you shuffled back to him, resting your head on his arm upset you didn't hit the ball as he patted your back. JJ was up to base and she hit one pitch, making it to first base, making it Spencer's turn next.

He stepped up to base, Morgan smirking at the pitcher's spot, a knowing look on his face. An easy three throws and Spencer would be out, his team a step closer to winning. Spencer got into his stance, Morgan throwing the ball at lightning speed and the clunking sound filled the air as the ball flew through the air way past Hotch who was out in the far field.

You screamed with the rest of your team as Spencer sprinted toward first and second base, a quick glance to the out field as he saw Hotch grab the ball, and he made a rash decision to keep going, pushing JJ out of third base and forcing her to head toward the home base with him as the ball zoomed through the air towards home base, JJ and Spencer narrowly making it.

Silence filled the air for a second, everyone dumbfounded on how Spencer got a home run on his first try, before Penelope and you erupted into cheers as you ran up to Spencer jumping up into his arms, him easily catching you, a laugh easily released from his throat as he spun your around.

The next hour was filled with laughter, smiles and cheers as the game went on, Spencer helping you with your stance, helping you get to third base. You had never seen Spencer so carefree, and it took everyone by surprise, earning a lecture on physics in how you can easily figure out the speed in which you need to hit the ball in order to get a good hit in.

The night was closing in and everyone decided on a quick game of soccer, something Spencer couldn't figure out with his brain but you pulled him over to your team, your hand fitting perfectly into his. The game quickly began and you laughed at how Spencer tried to recreate the fancy tricks Morgan and yourself were pulling, earning a few grass stains on his white dress shirt. Your team somehow won and Spencer pulled you into a hug after you scored the winning point, something you weren't expecting.

Both of you helped clean up and everyone was leaving with the promise to have another night out next week from Hotch, when you were asked a question you didn't think Spencer would ask.

"Can you teach me how to play before next week?"

You turned around, confusion on your face. "Um, why? I thought you didn't like playing sports?"

"I-I don't but you like playing, and I didn't have enough time to watch soccer games before I came to impress you." His voice just a whisper.

You chuckled, your face heating up. "I can teach you, but was that why you were late?"

"Yeah- I, um, watched some baseball games to figure out what to do." Spencer squeaked out as you walked up to him a teasing smirk on your lips.

"Well, it was certainly impressive." Spencer eyes grew big.

"It-it was?"

"Mhm, it was." You stopped a few inches from him and looked up at his chocolate coloured eyes. "So, are you going to walk me home?"

The smile on Spencer's face grew and he laced his hand in yours, like he's done it hundreds of times before, and pulled you close as you walked out of the park.

You were almost to your apartment complex, the silence comforting and your hands still intwined. "I think I'll need lots of lessons with you."

"Lessons in what?" You teased, a smirk on your lips as you poked his cheek. His cheeks turned a bright red along with the tips of his ears as he shook his head.

"I-I meant with soccer, Y/N."

You pouted your lips playfully. "Boo, I thought you were talking about something else."

He abruptly stopped and turn to you. "I didn't think you'd want to do that. Not saying you could not want it but we're friends so I-I didn't think that you'd want to further our friendship, especially with me, would be possible. I was talking about soccer, because you seemed so good at it and I fell quite a few times, but if you do want to do want physical relations, I-I'll try my best to-." His rant silenced by your lips on his.

You pulled away after a few seconds, Spencer body still, his eyes large as he watched you look up at him a big smile lighting up your face. "I've been wanting to kiss you for years." Your cheeks flushed pink, and Spencer could feel his heart clench at how adorable you were. "Saturday, pick me up at three, it'll be a date."

Untangling your hands, you made your way to your complex's doors with a smile on your face, your cheeks warm, embarrassed that you just shut him up with a kiss.

"Y/N!" You turned around to the sound of your name to see Spencer running up to you. One of his arm's circling your waist, pulling you closer to him as his other hand tilted your head up as he cupped your cheek before he brought his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that left you breathless. He pulled away, a devious smile on his handsome face, he gave a small peck to your lips again. "It's a date."

[absurdthirst]

Contracted Fling {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.8k

Warnings: Secret affair, rough sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), semi-public sex, mentions of loss, miscommunication, fight, Joel being sexily violent, make up sex, morning after

Comments: Hired to renovate your parents house, Joel finds you irresistible. Engaging in an affair that turns complicated and scratches beneath both of your pasts.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s not a bad gig. Not all things considered. The house isn’t in terrible shape, it just needs updating and homeowners aren’t the type to squabble if Joel uncovers some problem that will take more time and money to fix, they just want it to be done right. A true rarity in construction. 

Then there’s you. He’s old enough to know better and you’re young enough to have moved back into your parent’s house one week after demolition had started. You are a bonafide distraction and trouble all wrapped up in a pretty little package. Right now, he’s moving the little box of your bathroom shit into the hallway to continue to tear the tile out. Trying not to look down into it and see what you use when the smell of your shampoo drives him crazy.

When you moved back in with your parents, you felt like a failure. Your ex boyfriend had cheated on you and you were living in his place. You refused to stay in his apartment a moment longer so you packed your things and left. Moving back home, you plan to save enough money to get your own place but for now, you’re happy to be home. 

Especially when you’re greeted with the sight of Joel laboring around the house. He’s older, beard salt and pepper with streaks of gray through his hair. He’s unbelievably hot in a DILF kind of way, and you want him. It’s been a while since you had sex. Your ex hadn’t touched you and you wondered why until you found him balls deep in the colleague he said was ‘just a good friend.’ 

Joel is working on removing the tile in your bathroom, his brother downstairs is working on the tile in the kitchen, and you walk past the bathroom, eager to catch a sight of him. The way his plaid shirt stretches over his shoulders makes your mouth drool. 

“How’s it going?” You ask him when he pauses his demolition, leaning against the doorframe in the short shorts you’ve taken to wearing around the house since he arrived.

Joel glances at your legs and then straightens, groaning slightly and reaching for his handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his face. “Should be done with the demo by tomorrow.” He tells you. “You can still use the bathroom tonight though.” 

You cross your arms, biting your lip as you watch him roll his shoulders. “Cool. You and your brother seem to know what you’re doing. My parents made a good choice picking your company. You need some water? I’m heading downstairs to grab a coffee before I get back to work.” You’ve been working from your childhood bedroom, able to work remotely.

“Sure.” He won’t turn down water, especially enjoying the view when you turn around to walk to the stairs. “Thanks.” He calls after you, frowning slightly as he swears your ass shakes just a bit and his cock twitches. “She’s not interested in you.” He grunts to himself, listening to you bound down the stairs and call out a ‘hello’ to Tommy when you go into the kitchen. 

You come back about five minutes later with your coffee cup and you hand him a bottle of water, your fingers brushing his as he takes it from you. You stand there, watching as he opens the bottle and tilts his head back to down half the bottle, his Adam’s apple moving. Your mouth falls open slightly and you swallow down the drool. God, he’s so hot and he doesn’t even know it. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything else.” You try to say as innocently as possible and you turn to walk out of the bathroom with your cup of coffee. You’ll keep pushing him, see if he breaks, and if he doesn’t, you know he doesn’t want you.

“Thanks.” He lifts the bottle and watches as you walk away again, hissing slightly under his breath. You have been prancing around the house in short shorts and tank tops with your tits on display, giving him a good fucking view of the body you have. It makes him want to bend you over the bathroom sink and fuck you, but it’s your house, you can wear what you want. He’s just a guest here. 

**** 

It’s been two weeks since Joel and Tommy started working on your parent’s house and you have been frustrated by Joel’s presence. Every night, when the house is quiet, you rub your clit and imagine Joel taking you hard over the under construction kitchen counter. Today, his brother Tommy, is sick and it’s only Joel who is working on the kitchen floor. You work in your room until you decide to seek out a snack, making your way downstairs to the makeshift pantry. “Hey Joel. You want a snack?” You ask and you bend over to see what’s in the box your mom left in the corner.

Joel groans and grits his teeth together. “Yeah.” He grunts. “Whatcha got?” He knows what he wants to snack on. It’s right in front of him, bent over and all he has to do is just pull your shorts down and pull his cock out of his jeans. “Anything good?” 

You rifle through the snacks and hold up a couple of options over your head. “Chips or cookies?” You offer and he says “chips.” You take the cookies and stand up, tossing the packet over to him. You lean against the dining table and watch him shove a chip into his mouth. “So…how’s the work coming along? Must be hard without your brother here to help today.”

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes playfully and shrugs. “Better, don’t have to listen to him whine about dealing with his pregnant wife.” He jokes. “Cravings and cramps and aches and pains.” He shoves his hand back into the bag. “Told him just to fuck her good when she’s complaining, but that might be why he’s expecting a kid.” 

You wince slightly at the mention of his sister in-law being pregnant. A sensitive subject for you but Joel doesn’t know that. You chuckle after a second, fiddling with the bag in your hand. “Being a woman isn’t easy. Being pregnant, well that’s the hardest thing. Not that I- I don’t have kids. From what I’ve heard.” You explain, “you guys are doing a great job. My parents are already happy with your work. You’re good with your hands.” You compliment saucily, licking your lips of cookie crumbs after taking a bite.

Joel lifts a brow at your comment and stares at you for a moment. “I am good with my hands.” He agrees, staring at you in challenge, waiting to see what else will come out of that mouth of yours. Trying not to think about what he would like to put in that mouth. How you would react to that. 

“What else are you good with?” You ask, biting your lip as you wait for his reply. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms and the chip packet is still in his hand.

“Lots of things.” Joel brags, smirking at you slightly. “What are you interested in?” He asks, setting the bag down on the counter and crossing one leg over the other at the ankles as he waits for you to answer. 

You set the bag of cookies down on the kitchen table and brush off your hands, taking a step towards him. “Lots of things.” You hum, walking towards him, “not sure if you’re interested in using them on me but I sure have imagined it enough times.”

It’s an invitation, one that he hadn’t expected but he damn sure appreciated. He doesn’t move, just arching a brow at you as he licks his lips. “Take off your shirt.” He orders.

Your parents aren’t home. It’s only you and Joel. You can’t deny him when he looks at you with those dark brown eyes, his gaze burning into you. You reach down to grip the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head to expose your lace bra. You know he wants you to take that off too and you want to make the first move so you reach behind you to unclasp it, letting it drop down your arms to fall onto the floor he’s been working on.

He grunts, his cock twitching and hardening in his jeans. Finally uncrossing his ankles and standing straight as he steps closer to you. “You have pretty tits.” He compliments, palms itching to touch them. “Now I want to see your ass.” 

How can you deny him? You reach down to unbutton your shorts, knowing he’s in total control. He could leave you high and dry and humiliated but the look in his eyes tells you he’s going to give you exactly what you want. You push your shorts down along with your panties and turn around as you kick them away. Looking over your shoulder at him, you smirk. “Like what you see, old man?”

You have a fucking gorgeous ass. He wants to slap it and he huffs as he pins you against the counter, newly installed by him. “Unbutton my pants and find out.” He orders.

Your stomach twists with anticipation and arousal and you reach down to unbutton his jeans, snaking your hand in to wrap your fingers around his cock. “Fucking hell.” You gasp in shock. He’s huge. Thick and throbbing in your hand. “Is that - I don’t know if that’s gonna fit, Miller.”

Joel chuckles quietly and smirks at you. “Don’t think it will, little girl?” You’re a grown ass woman, but your fingers tighten around his cock when he calls you that so he assumes you like it. “I think it will. I think you’ll take every inch and scream my name.”

You pull him out of his jeans and squeeze him, starting to slowly pump him as his hands cup your tits. “Big words. Big words I’m not sure you can fulfill.” You taunt him, licking your lips as you clench around nothing.

He huffs and reaches for your waist, pulling you up to shove you onto the counter and spread your thighs. “That right?” He grunts, squeezing your thigh before he slides his fingers to your core and finds you dripping wet. “I think it’ll be nice and slick.”

“Fuck.” You whimper when his fingers find your clit. “You wanna find out?” You ask breathlessly, grinding back against his hard cock. “Joel. I need- I want you to fuck me.”

The next moment, Joel’s too busy lining up and pushing inside your hot, tight cunt to even think about birth control. Groaning as he pushes deep, he doesn’t stop until he's bottomed out inside you and one hand slaps down on the new granite countertop.

Your gasp echoes in the kitchen, your eyes sliding shut as he stretches you out. “Holy shit.” You whisper, “oh my God. You’re - I think you’re in my guts.” You admit, unable to believe how he feels inside of you.

Joel growls, loving how tight you are squeezing him. “That’s the point, little girl.” He reminds you cockily. “To let you feel it.” He pulls back and then slams back into you.

Your head drops back, your mouth open in a silent moan as the delicious friction slams you into the counter. “I feel it. I - fuck - I feel it.” You pant, eyes opening as you turn your head to look at him, loving the way his dark eyes seem almost black with his desire for you.

He start to fuck you, quick hard thrusts that have you gasping his name while your hips bang against the counter. Reaching up to cup your tits and squeeze harshly before pinching your nipples.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” You hiss as he fucks you hard and fast. You cover his hands with yours as much as you can, making him squeeze your tits even harder. “Joel. Feels - better than I imagined.” You confess in a squeal when he kicks your ankle to spread you wider so he can push impossibly deeper.

“Gonna- fuck, gonna make you scream.” He huffs, nearly out of breath from how hard he’s fucking you but his hips don’t stutter and he doesn’t slow down. “Want to hear you scream.” He bites down on your ear and lets go of one of your tits to rub your clit.

Your hands slap down on the counter and when his calloused fingers find your clit. “Oh my - fuck!” You squeal, thighs starting to shake as he pounds into you, rubbing your bundle of nerves. You haven’t been fucked like this in - never. You’ve never been fucked like this. “Yes. Yes. Yes! I’m gonna - oh shit. You’re gonna make me cum.” You confess in a wheeze as he rasps in your ear, “that’s it, little girl. Want you to soak my cock.” You shudder and your palms slide on the counter, slick with sweat as he works your body higher. “I’m gonna - Joel!” You shriek as you cum, clamping down on his cock.

Joel growls again and the slap of his hips against your ass becomes even more frantic, fucking you through the high of your orgasm and chasing his own. Groaning filthily into your ear at how tight you grip him, making his hips stutter as you ride out the pleasure. “Gonna give me another?” He hisses in your ear, still rubbing your clit. “Gonna soak me again and scream. I know it, I can feel it.”

Most men would’ve already been pushing deep and spilling inside of you but Joel is still going. Your jaw is dropped and senseless moans of obedience fill the kitchen as you wordlessly promise him you’ll cum again. His hips press against your ass, no doubt leaving bruises from the brutal way your hips are hitting the quartz counter. His fingers rub your clit and he slaps it after a few seconds. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he continues to ruin you. “Gonna - yes. Again.” You gasp out, walls starting to flutter around his cock.

His back is killing him and his knees feel like they are turning to rubber, but he doesn’t stop. Addicted to the way your body splits open for his cock and your walls hug him close. “That’s it. Cum for me, you naughty little girl.” He groans. “Tightest little pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

His raspy words send you over the edge. “Oh fuck. Joel!” You sob his name out, loud enough for the neighbors to hear as he fucks you by the kitchen window. You clamp down on his cock, soaking him and your knees give out but he presses you against the counter while he frantically fucks into you. “Cum inside of me. It’s safe.” You promise breathlessly, slumping down to rest your upper body on the cool counter as he continues to ram into you.

Joel grunts, his body curling around you and he holds onto the counter as he pounds into you. Feeling his own orgasm getting closer with every thrust while you clench around him. “Fuck, fuck.” He growls into your ear. “Gonna fill you up.”

“Yes yes yes. Do it. Oh God. Fuck me. Fill me up.” You beg, wanting to hear him when he climaxes. You turn your head to look at him, his jaw clenched as he rocks into you. “Cum for me, baby.” You plead and that’s his undoing. He grunts as he cums, his cock twitching while he paints your walls with his hot seed.

Joel closes his eyes, his forehead pressed to the nap of your neck as he rocks his hips shallowly. Making sure every drop of his cum spurts inside of you until he is done. “Fuck.” He hisses, enjoying the wave of pure bliss that floods his body and he pants to catch his breath. “You good?” He asks after a moment.

You nod, trying to catch your own breath. “So good.” You confess, looking back at him when he lifts his head from your neck. “Didn’t expect that to happen today but I’m glad it did.” You giggle and caress his forearms as he clings to you.

He pulls out of you slowly, not wanting to hurt you. Rocking back and reluctantly letting you go so he can tuck himself back into his jeans. “Feel a lot lighter now.” He snorts, snagging a paper towel to wipe you up.

“Maybe you can focus on the floor instead of watching me walk around in these tiny shorts I had to dig out of my case to tempt you with.” You giggle, reaching for your panties after he tosses the paper towel. “Took you long enough to make a move, Miller.”

Joel snorts, “maybe, spent enough time thinking about bending you over the bathroom tub.” 

You chuckle, grabbing your bra after pulling your tank top back on. “Mmm, now that sounds like a good time. You promise to do that?” You tease him, “but seriously, I want more sex if you want that. Nothing serious. Some fun and you’re - you’re the hottest man I’ve seen in a long time. I don’t want strings after what happened with my ex. I want to have fun. You up for that or is this a one time thing?” You gesture between you, wanting him to make a choice on if this happens again.

Joel contemplates your offer and shrugs. “Sounds like I would be a fucking idiot to turn down sex.” He folds his arms over his chest. “Especially with a woman as gorgeous as you are.” He’s not the best at paying compliments, but he likes the way you smile when he says that. You are gorgeous and you want him to fuck you, the least he can do is make you feel good.

You step closer to him, leaning in to kiss his jaw, “I gotta get back to work but I’ll see you later. This is gonna be fun.” You squeal as you step back and stride off to the stairs, making your way up to your room. Joel huffs, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head. You’re going to be trouble.

****

You bite your lip as Joel works on tiling your parent’s bathroom today. His shirt is off, leaving him in a tank top, a chain hanging from his neck, and you keep walking past to get a glimpse of him. “Stop starin’.” He orders and you lean against the door frame. 

“Can’t help it when you’re teasing me all day with those arms of yours.” Your cross your arms, letting your eyes trail down his body as he stands to turn and face you. His brother is downstairs working on the half bath and you know he can’t hear you flirting with his older brother.

“You gonna let me fuck you on my lunch break?” Joel asks, smirking as he looks up from the mortar line he is laying. “Tommy’s running some errands so I’m gonna just stay here and eat my sandwich like a good boy.” He chuckles when your thighs press together on instinct.

You smirk, “yeah? You gonna have your cake and eat it too? You know Tommy won’t be gone for too long and I can’t be quiet so you gotta be quick to make me scream your name and cum before you finish your lunch.” You step into the bathroom and lean on the vanity, pushing your tits together so they meet his gaze when he looks up at you again. “You think you’re up for the challenge, old man?”

“I could make you cum on my tongue now, little girl.” He growls, eyes dropping to your tits. “Then just fill that little pussy with my cum while he’s gone.” Joel smirks at you with glee, “but I don’t know if you can be that quiet.”

You inhale sharply, “I could try. You could keep me quiet. Use your fingers or - or my panties.” You test him, wondering if he’s bold enough to do this while his brother is downstairs. “I can be good.”

Joel chuckles quietly and drops his trowel into the bucket and groans slightly as he climbs to his feet. “Hand me your panties then get up on the counter.” He orders, grabbing his rag to wipe his face. “And spread your legs.”

You giggle, glad you are wearing a dress today while pushing your panties down, handing them to him, and you shift to sit on the vanity he installed the other day, spreading your legs. He’s so hot, his muscles moving while he wears that tank top and his jeans tight around his thighs. He shifts to stand between your legs and you tilt your head to kiss his chin.

Joel pushes your dress up even more, pleased that you are so eager to give him what he wants. He tilts his head down to press his lips to yours briefly, not really kissing you a lot but you haven’t chased kisses either so he wonders if you dont really like it. Balling up your panties, he smirks as he holds them to your lips. “Open up, little girl. You can’t make too many noises while I eat your pussy.”

You eagerly open your mouth for him, wiggling on the cool surface as you impatiently wait for his next move after he pushes the lace into your mouth. It’s dry and you swallow around them, cheeks full of the material and your eyes meet his as his hands trail along your inner thighs, a whine of need is muffled by your underwear.

“So impatient.” He chides, pinching the inside of your thigh slightly and then soothing it with a small rub. “Now-“ he grunts as he kneels back down. “You need to be quiet.”

You watch him, eyes dark with lust as he leans in, his hot breath washing over your wet pussy. You’re always so turned on around him. You’ve never experienced this kind of attraction to someone before. You’re like a magnet to him. You whimper around the material when his tongue slides through your folds. 

Joel doesn’t hesitate to lavish attention on your cunt, spreading your thighs apart with his hands you seem so obsessed with. Groaning at the first and second whimpers that you give him. You haven’t asked him for this, but he wants to, wants to have you cum for him. Loves making you cum and your thighs shake around his ears.

Your head tilts back to hit the wall where he hasn't installed the mirror yet. Your eyes closing as you arch your back so he can access more of you. You moan around the panties, his thumbs spreading your lips to suck on your clit.

Your thighs press his head and you roll your hips down, making Joel groan into your folds. You aren’t screaming yet, your moans are muffled by your panties and it’s thrilling. The door into the bathroom is still opened and your parents could come or Tommy could walk in at any moment. His eyes flicker up to watch your face as he sucks.

You couldn’t care less if someone sees you right now. His tongue is magic against your clit. Harsh but perfect as he sucks and licks. His fingers slide along your thighs, pushing your thighs back out to give him room to make you fall apart on his tongue.

He doesn’t rush you, keeping the rhythm of his tongue steady and he flicks his tongue against your hole before sucking on your clit again. Groaning quietly as he devours you.

You pant around the pace, your chest heaving as he works you higher. His tongue flicking and lapping then he sucks on your clit and your thighs start to shake around his head. His name is muffled as you moan it as you get closer and closer. When he pushes his tongue deep, curling it and his nose presses against your clit, you fall apart. Your cry is silenced but he knows you’ve fallen over the edge by the way your thighs squeeze his head.

He can feel the rapid pulse of your heart pumping blood through your veins and he loves it. Keeping his tongue curled up inside you, his curved nose pressed against your clit as he feels your arousal flood his tongue. Your thighs squeeze his head and he huffs slightly when your fingers grip his hair, not letting you push him away just yet.

You whine around your panties when it becomes too much, his tongue languidly swiping over your clit but you're too sensitive. Your hands finally succeed in pushing his head away and he smirks up at you, cocky because he made you fall apart under his tongue.

“Joel!” Joel can move fast when he needs to, lurching to his feed and out the door while you are still sprawled on the counter. Tommy pauses at the door to the master bedroom. 

“Yeah?” He grumbles slightly. “Damn near thought you cut a finger off. What’re you yellin’ for?” Tommy snorts at the grumpy attitude of his older brother and shakes his head. 

“I’m headed out, you sure you don’t wanna grab a burger?” He offers, making Joel shake his head. 

“Nah, packed a lunch.” He smirks. “Even have dessert, ate that already though.” 

You scramble off of the vanity, shoving your dress down and spitting out your panties to shove them in your bra. Your face is burning from nearly getting caught but your pussy is throbbing from arousal at the fact that his brother nearly caught you. Tommy stares at his brother, eyebrows raised at his shiny chin, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to when his older brother stares at him as if to say 'don't you dare.'

Tommy holds up his hands and smirks slightly. “Alright..uh, you should finish up the tile in there today?” He asks, nodding to the bathroom. 

“Yeah.” Joel nods and shoots daggers at his brother, wanting him to leave. “Have a good lunch.” He tells him pointedly. 

Tommy shakes his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. He isn't dumb. He's seen the way you and Joel look at each other and he doesn't care so long as your parents don't get pissed and blame the company for Joel fucking their daughter while doing the renovations. He's happy that Joel is finally getting some. It's been a couple of years since Tess died and he deserves some happiness after so long. Tommy leaves, purposefully slamming the door shut and you come out of the bathroom, "oh God. He knows, doesn't he?" You ask Joel, slightly mortified.

“Tommy’s not stupid.” Joel answers. “He won’t say anything.” He wonders if you would want to stop now, ashamed that someone other than you and him might know. He grins at you and glances down at the slight bulge under your shirt. “Still not wearing any panties?” He asks lecherously. “Do you want me to fuck you in the bathroom or bend you over mommy and daddy’s bed?” He’s half joking, but he would do it if you wanted. 

You smirk, loving that he isn't put off by his brother knowing. "Oh God. I want - the bed. Want you inside of me. Want you to fill me up." You confess, knowing how wrong this is but your pussy is dripping as you stare at him, chest heaving.

“Lay down at the end of the bed.” Joel orders, reaching down to unbuckle his belt to unbutton his jeans. “Gonna put your legs up on my shoulders and fill your pussy with my cum right there on your parents bed like we’re fucking rebellious teenagers.” The fact that Joel’s not too much younger than your parents doesn’t matter, you make him feel younger.

You obey immediately, laying down on the bed and you shove your dress up to your waist. You watch him unbuckle his belt, his cock hard and aching as he pulls it out. You never get over the size of his length. “Fuck me, daddy.” You tease, spreading your legs for him.

“Fuck, do you want me to stay hard?” He huffs, pumping his cock in his hand and rolling his eyes at you. You giggle, not remorseful in the least and he shuffles forward. “I’m going to make you scream now that we are alone.” He warns with a smirk.

You moan when he slides his cock through your folds. “Please.” You whimper, your stomach clenching as you look up at him. “Want you to make me scream.” You demand, your hands caressing his forearms. He notches his cock at your entrance and grabs your wrists, lifting them over your head to press them into the mattress as he pushes into you.

“So goddamn tight.” He hisses. “Best little pussy I’ve ever fucked.” 

You love his compliments. He’s not a man of many words but fuck, he’s so sexy. Your feet are behind his head as he lifts your calves onto his shoulders, practically folding you in two as you take his cock. “Oh my God. I think you’re in my throat this time.” You pant, closing your eyes.

“Good.” He huffs, rocking his hips forward sharply as he moves your legs up from his waist to his shoulders. Leaning forward, he braces his hands on the bed, flashing a smirk before he starts to destroy your pussy.

You moan when he starts to move, pushing deep and hard. “Yes yes yes!” You squeal, your head tilting back and you close your eyes. 

“Look at me.” He demands, “fucking - keep your eyes open.” Your eyes flutter open and you look at him above you, his jaw clenched as he rocks into you. He stares down at you, his jaw clenched as he fucks you hard enough to shake the bed, the headboard starting to bang against the wall. “Fuck, dirty little slut.” He grunts. “So desperate for my cock you’re letting me fuck you on your parents bed.”

“Yes. Your - your slut. Oh God. Your cock. Only your cock drives me to do this.” You cry out, “so good. You - you fill me up so well.” You moan as he grinds deep into you. “Joel. So - so fucking good.” You cry as he fucks you hard and fast.

He can feel how close you are, bending down even more so he can press his lips to yours and the short hair above his cock grinds against your clit. “Cum.” He demands breathlessly. “Want you to cum.”

You practically wail, your eyes closing as you fall apart. “Oh my - Joel! Joel! Joel!” You squeal as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with your cum.

Joel groans, eyes rolling back as you pack down around him. Having to really thrust his hips to move as he tries to work you through. “Fuck!” He yells, grabbing your thighs and straightening up as he continues to drill into you.

You watch him, your body pushed up the bed. “Come on. Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel it. Wanna feel you spill inside of me. Come on.” You egg him on, clenching around him as he drills into you until he stutters, his cock throbbing as he fills you up. “That’s it. Oh shit. Never gets old. Love watching you cum.”

Joel grunts and groans as he finally stops cumming. Panting and his work rough hands caress your legs. “Fucking love cumming in you.” He watches as he pulls out, spreading your thighs to watch his cum start to push out of your cunt. “That is a pretty sight.”

You giggle as he watches your pussy for a moment until he lets your legs down from his shoulders. “You wanna have your lunch?” You ask, knowing he’s gotta be hungry after that and he does need a lunch break. He nods and you gingerly shift off of the bed, “I’ll tidy up. Go eat.” You demand, rubbing his shoulder.

Joel tucks himself away and goes downstairs to where his lunch box is sitting in the kitchen. He really had packed a lunch because of Tommy and he opens it quickly. He knows that Tommy won’t say a word, but he will give him shit for taking too long on the lunch break.

****

You bite your lip as you watch Joel work, his shoulders moving with each motion of the brush while he paints the wall. He senses your presence and turns to look at you. Tommy is on a coffee run and your parents are out. "Hey trouble." He smirks at you and you step closer to him. 

"Hey handsome." You don't mess around, knowing you don't have a lot of time so you squeeze him through his pants.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, glancing around the room as if someone could walk in at any second. You laugh, making him glare at you and you squeeze him again. 

“I want to suck your cock.” You tell him, making him hiss again, this time his hardening cock jump against your palm. You smirk as he twitches under your touch. “No one is here. Just us.” You reassure him, your fingers sliding up to unbuckle his belt. Your nimble fingers unbutton his jeans and you reach in to pull out his half hard cock. “Wanna taste you.” You murmur as you shift to kneel down in front of him, paint splattered on his pants.

“Fuck.” Joel groans, looking down to find you watching him under your lashes while your tongue slides along the growing length of his cock. He’s never had someone blow him in their parents kitchen, and he’s not going to turn you down when you are so eager for it.

You kiss along his length as you feel him harden against your lips. His hands gripping the kitchen counter as he watches you. You moan when you wrap your lips around the head, loving the spurt of pre-cum hitting your tongue. Salty and all Joel. You can’t seem to get enough of him.

It’s fucking incredible, your mouth is hot and wet, tongue eagerly sliding against his shaft. You fucking take him deeper and the first groan bubbles out of his throat. Making you smirk, stretching your lips around him.

He hisses your name and you brace your hands on his thighs. The denim is rough under your palms and you keep your eyes on him. Your moan vibrates up his cock as you take him even deeper, your pussy throbbing at the groan that escapes his lips.

His hips push forward sharply, during his cock even deeper into your mouth. Making you gag as he grabs the back of your head and takes over. Holding you still while he thrusts into your mouth, loving how your hands grab at his hips and your throat contracts around him.

You let him use your mouth, the groans escaping his mouth combined with the grunts make you slide your hand into your shorts to rub your clit. Letting him hold your head and your eyes water as you allow him to use you.

“So fucking good.” He groans. “Don’t know what’s better, your pussy or your mouth.” He catches sight of your hand in your shorts and moans. “That’s right, play with your pussy while I fuck your throat, little girl.”

You moan around him again, choking a second later when he pushes deeper, the curls at the base of his cock brushing your nose, and you rub your clit a little faster. His hands still grip your head, using you and rocking his hips a little faster.

Even as often as Joel is getting sex, he’s still working himself close to cumming quickly. Your mouth is perfect, the pressure around his length too much for him to be able to stand for too long. “Gonna cum down your throat.” He promises. “Fill- fuck- you up.” His hips stutter and his stomach lurches. “Fuck- gonna-“ he chokes out a groan as his cock pushed deep down your throat and starts to throb.

Joel grunts as you swallow around him one more time, spent now the last spurts have been swallowed. His hand softens on your cheek and he stops rocking his hips, eyes looking at your own watery ones.

You let his softening cock drop from your mouth as he caresses your cheek and you offer him a soft smile, enjoying how relaxed he looks right now. “Fuck baby. So- you look so good.” You murmur, throat a little sore, “not stressed.”

He chuckles softly, smirking at you slightly. “Hard to be stressed when I just came.” He rubs his thumb over your lips. “How are you, little girl? You need to cum? Want me to rub your little clit?”

You nod, shifting to stand on shaky legs. He helps you up after tucking his cock away and spins you to press your against the counter where he was standing. “Joel.” You whimper when his hands squeeze your tits. “I want to cum.”

His hand slides down from your shoulder to your tit, squeezing it and then gliding down to your stomach. Hitting your shorts and diving under the elastic waistband, and groaning when he finds you’re not wearing any underwear. “Fuck baby.” He groans. “You’re always ready to take me. Ain’t ya?”

You nod, mouth falling open as his fingers find your clit. He’s been the best part of returning home. Working from your childhood bedroom has allowed you to run riot with Joel over your parents’ house and it’s been amazing.

“Thaaaat’s it.” He coos, smirking smugly at the way your body jerks and pulls taunt as he rubs. Knowing that he’s touching you exactly like you need to be touched. “Such a good girl for me. Doing so good. I know you want to cum.”

“Need to - God. Need to cum.” You pant, head tilting back as his calloused fingertips rub your clit expertly. He knows your body inside out by now. “Joel, baby. Shit. Know just what I need.”

He knows that you are just praising him because he’s giving you pleasure. He hums and presses his lips to the bottom of your ear. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You moan, “need - fingers inside of me.” You plead and he nods, shifting his hand further into your shorts so he can push two thick digits inside of your dripping pussy. “Yesss.” You cry, gripping his shirt as he pushes you into the counter.

He doesn’t stop, curling and pumping his fingers deep inside your cunt. Pressing you close and pushing his thigh between your legs to keep them splayed open. “Come on baby, soak my fingers.”

You pant, fingers curling in his shirt as he pushes you higher and higher. “Oh God. I -fuck Joel. Joel baby. I’m gonna - shit. Shit. Shit.” You cry out, clamping down on his digits as he sends you over the edge. His thumb pressed against your clit and you slump against him while your thighs shake against his knee.

Joel watched you closely, enjoying the way your entire body reacts to your pleasure and he hums softly. “That’s it. You just melt against me.”

You inhale deeply, leaning in to breathe him in. Your lips press against his neck, “so good.” You murmur as he withdraws his hand from your shorts just as the front door opens. Joel steps away from you immediately and your parents walk in. “Hey Joel. How’s it going?” Your dad asks and you exhale shakily, stepping over to the fridge Joel installed the day before.

“It’s going good.” Joel acknowledges, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaning back like he just hadn’t had his fingers buried in the other man’s daughter. “We should be finished up right on schedule. Just finishing the tile and trim and she’ll be done.” He glances around and the completely redone kitchen.

You are disappointed that Joel will be done sooner rather than later. You’ve had weeks of sex and you’re not sure what you’re going to do when he’s done. Luckily, he still has the bathrooms to finish along with the laundry room and the flooring in the bedrooms. “He’s done a good job so far.” You comment and your mom smiles, agreeing. “We are having a BBQ tomorrow with the neighbors. Weather is perfect and we wondered if you and Tommy wanna join us?” Your dad asks the older Miller brother.

“I- uh, yeah, sure.” Joel doesn’t often socialize with his clients, but he also doesn’t normally bang their daughters either. He bites his lip and shrugs. “What can I bring? I don’t know if I would trust something I cooked, but I can bring cups, beer, whatever you need.”

Your dad nods, “beer would be awesome. Just bring you and Tommy can bring Maria. Want to thank you guys for doing such an amazing job so far.” He says and reaches out to slap Joel on his upper arm. Your lover nods, his dark eyes glancing at you and you offer him a soft smile, wanting to let him know you want him to come to the cookout.

****

You see Joel across the lawn, sipping a beer and talking to Tommy and his wife, Maria. The entire street is here for the cookout and you sip your vodka seltzer while Darlene from two doors down talks to you about her lawyer son who would be ‘just perfect for you.’ “He sounds perfect for Sally’s daughter.” You point to the other woman who is talking to your mom and you make your way across the lawn to the Miller family. “Hey guys. Everyone is amazed by the kitchen and half bath. My parents have given your number out to nearly everyone here so you should be busy for the rest of the year.” You grin, shifting in your short sundress.

“Good.” Tommy looks very pleased by the prospect and rubs Maria’s back. “This is my wife, Maria.” He boasts. “And soon to be the next Miller.” 

Joel’s lips press together but he relaxes his jaw so it’s not obvious he’s uncomfortable. “That’s good.” He nods, holding up a case of beer in each hand. He has splurged on the good stuff since he didn’t think your dad drank PBR. “Where do you want these?”

You greet Maria, “I’ve heard a lot about you. All good things.” You promise, offering her a smile and she says “I’ve heard a lot about you too.” Her eyes look at Joel and he avoids his sister in law. “You can put them on the bar.” You tell Joel, escorting him over to the table full of buckets of ice and various drinks.

“Thanks.” He puts the beers down on the bar and turns towards you. “So…what now?” He asks. “I talk to all his friends about remodeling their bathrooms?” He chuckles quietly.

“That or…we could find somewhere private and you could show me how you manage to get your grout lines so straight?” You smirk, biting your lip and you glance around to make sure no one is watching you. “Unless you’d prefer I leave you with the neighborhood watch mom group over there?” You flick your eyes over to the gaggle of middle aged women who are not so discreetly eying Joel.

“Fuck no.” Joel snorts, looking over at the group of women and then shooting you an annoyed look. He doesn’t want to be fending off those vultures all night. “Where do you want to go?” He asks, wiping his hands on his jeans and feeling a little out of place even though he had showered and even trimmed up his facial hair for tonight. His jeans aren’t ripped or paint stained and his flannel shirt is practically new.

You trail your eyes along his figure, stomach twisting at how good he looks tonight. He smells good too. “I have a treehouse. Used to go in it when I was a kid. You want to join me in there? I might want to upgrade the flooring.” You tease, grabbing your drink and spinning around, you glance over your shoulder at him as you make your way through the yard to the treehouse.

Joel grabs a beer, ignoring the women who are staring after him and follows you outside. There’s enough people here that most of them are talking and not paying any attention when you disappear around the back of a tree and Joel reaches the base just in time to catch a glimpse of your bare ass as you climb. “Fuckin’ too old for this shit.” He grunts quietly, shoving his beer into his pocket and climbing up after you.

You giggle as he climbs up, “come on Miller. Where’s your sense of adventure?” You ask him as you step up onto the treehouse your grandfather built years ago. He was like Joel. Handy and an excellent craftsman. Your dad didn’t inherit the gift. “Gone when I turned 50.” He groans as he steps into the treehouse. It’s not creaking when he shifts his weight and he hums, impressed with the structure. You sit down on the beanbag, holding your drink up. “You look good for your age.” You hum, taking a sip.

He rolls his eyes and huffs as he sits down, knees creaking slightly. “For my age, huh?” He pulls the beer out of his pocket and opens the can. “To aging gracefully.” He toasts, holding the can up and then taking a sip of the cold brew.

You smile, watching him in your childhood treehouse is a bizarre experience but you love it. “You do look really good tonight.” You compliment him, “I like the clean look a lot. I do think I like the dirty look more, though. Rugged, sexy, capable.” You flirt, “and you can still get it up.” You tease, “most of the time.” You joke about the time he was about to fuck you and your parents’ old fashioned house phone voice sounded out their voicemail. Your dad telling you to take the chicken out of the freezer. He went soft as soon as he heard your dad.

“Can’t believe you still hold that against me.” He snorts. “Been thirty fuckin’ years since I’ve been worried about somebody’s daddy walkin’ in.” He grunts, staring at the way your thighs spread teasingly. His cock twitches in his jeans and like every time he’s around you, he starts to harden. “So did you bring me up here to fuck?” He asks. “Or just get away from everyone?”

“Both.” You tilt your head, “I don’t - I have to confess, I’ve never been so sexually attracted to anyone. I want you. All the time. Like I even touch myself thinking about you at night.” You know you’re giving him all the cards but you mean what you say. “So…we can talk since I saved you from the neighborhood ladies flirting with you and the husbands asking for your advice on their latest DIY project…or we can fuck and you gotta keep me quiet since they could definitely hear us up here.”

“How wet are you?” Joel asks, eyeing the exposed skin as your thighs spread again. You’ve talked between flirting and fucking, but the idea of you walking around the party dripping his cum is one he really likes.

You bite your lip and lift your dress higher, spreading your legs to expose your wet folds to his dark gaze. “Soaking wet for you. Ever since you walked into the party.” You confess, sliding your hand down to rub your clit.

“Spread your lips apart.” Joel orders quietly. “Rub slower.” He twitches in his jeans and reaches down to palm himself as he watches you touch yourself. You’ve not really had time for more than frantically rushed fucking, so now he can watch you. See what you like to do to yourself when you’re thinking about him.

You set your drink down and reach down with your other hand, spreading your lips to show him your puffy clit. Your eyes on him as you slowly rub the bundle of nerves and he squeezes his cock through his jeans. You like the way he’s ordering you.

“That’s good, just like that.” He grunts. “Slide your fingers through your slick and then rub your clit again. Gotta make sure you’re nice and wet. But you’re always so fucking wet.” He unbuttons his jeans and reveals that he’s not wearing any underwear, pulling out his cock and then spitting in his hand to wrap around it and pump slowly.

You whimper, mouth almost watering when you see this thick cock in his hand. You follow his order, sliding your fingers down to gather up your slick and you bring it back to your clit, rubbing it a little faster. “Always wet around you. Just looking at you gets me wet. Especially - shit - especially when you strip your shirt off or wear your tank top.”

“Like that, huh?” He grunts and rocks his hips up, working himself into his fist. “You enjoy being fucked. That pretty pussy needs to be fucked as often as possible.”

You whine slightly as he pumps his cock a little faster. “Joel. Please. Let me - let me sit on your cock. Wanna feel you inside of me. Want you to cum inside of me.” You beg pathetically, pulling your hand away from your clit.

“What are you waiting for?” He demands, still pumping himself. “You want to ride, you have to come to me.” You’ve never ridden him before but he wants to see your tits bounce in his face. “Pull out your other tit and come sit on my cock.”

You pull down the straps of your dress, exposing your tits and you shift out of the bean bag, straddling his thighs and he holds his cock up so you can sink down on him. “Fuckkk.” You whimper, eyes fluttering closed as he stretches you out.

“Shhhh shhhh.” He covers your mouth with his hand, the other behind your neck to hold you firm while he bottoms out in your aching pussy. “Silent.” He whispers, knowing that no one at the party can hear, but you will get loud if he doesn’t warn you. Breathing against his fingers, he groans quietly when your pussy flutters. “You like that, huh?” He grunts. “Holding your mouth closed while you ride my cock? Is that how to keep you quiet?”

Your hands grip his wrist, eyes wide as you nod. You want him to keep you quiet. His cock twitches inside of you and you whimper against his palm. “Shhhh.” He coos, “ride me.” He demands softly and you nod, lifting your thighs to pull up off of his cock nearly all the way. You sink back down onto him.

He watches you, feeling the shuddered breaths against his palm, warming it. Thinking that you are fucking gorgeous and too good for him as you grind back down into his lap. Wanting him as deep as possible while you lean back to find the perfect angle for his cock inside you. “Good girl.” He praises, voice low. “Make yourself cum.”

You love his voice. Deep and gruff. His orders have you fluttering around his cock already. Knowing that anyone at the party could figure out that you are together, up here, having sex. Your nails dig into his forearm slightly and you rock a little faster, your thighs aching but you don’t care. You want to cum and you want him to follow you.

Joel’s hips stay down, letting you have complete control of the ride, although he pulls you up straighter by your head. Just enough for him to duck down and wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Biting it before sucking it onto his mouth and lavishing attention on it.

You cry into his palm, muffled as he bites down on your nipple and you tangle your fingers in his hair as you ride him a little faster. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you find the right angle for the head of his cock to rub against your g-spot.

Joel grunts, sucking and biting on your breast while you gallop on his cock. Loving how your moans are muffled by his hand and his cock twitches. He loves how you demand pleasure and are willing to take it for yourself.

You moan into his palm, so close to your orgasm. He switches to your other nipple and it sends you over the edge. You clamp down on his cock, soaking him and your cry threatens to bubble past his palm but he presses his hand harder against your mouth to smother your cry. His groan is soft against your breast as you grip him and you shake above him.

Your hands slide down from his hair to his shoulders, caressing his upper back as he paints your walls with his cum. His hand drops from your mouth as he grips your waist and you rest your head on top of his. “So good, baby. So fucking good.” You gasp, “can’t get enough of you.”

Joel chuckles quietly as you both ride out your orgasms, panting softly. “I can tell.” He teases quietly, running his hand down your spine. “Good baby?”

You nod against his head, “so good. Fuck, Joel. Wish you could stay inside of me alllll the time.” You tease, running your fingers through his salt and pepper locks. “I am gonna be dripping your cum at this party.”

“I know.” He smirks at you and waggles his brows. “I’ve thought about that before you ever even climbed in my lap.” He pats your hip lightly, leaning back and sighing, relaxed and loose now. He picks up his beer and takes a swallow, his cock softening inside you.

You watch him, your gaze softening until you clear your throat and shift off of his lap. You grab your own drink after you pull your dress into place, sitting down in the bean bag. Joel is quiet as he sips his beer and you shift in the bean bag. “I’m gonna head down, clean up. Come down whenever you’re ready. It’s better that we are seen separately.” You murmur, groaning as you stand up and his cum starts to drip down your thigh. You wink at him as you climb down the ladder and make your way into the house to clean up. When you come out of the bathroom, you are grabbing a snack in the kitchen when your mom approaches you. “Sweetheart, we - your dad and I wanted to talk to you. We noticed you and Joel go up to your treehouse and we - we’ve seen the way you look at him. You’re an adult and after what that asshole did to you, you deserve to have some fun but honey…Joel is complicated.” You open your mouth to respond but she shakes her head, “you don’t know his past. You’ve been away from home for a long time and we - your dad knew Joel from his coworkers. Joel lost his daughter. She was thirteen. He lost her and his wife - she left him when his daughter was two. He’s got a lot of baggage and I’m worried that he will hurt you because he doesn’t want to - he’s not the dating kind.” She explains and your jaw clenches. 

“Mom, I don’t want to date him. We are having fun. Please…I know I have kept this for you. Been doing this under your roof and I’m sorry for that but I’m not sorry about Joel. He’s fun and I- I deserve to have some fun. I’m not marrying the guy.” You scoff, crossing your arms. She nods and grabs her wine glass, neither of you aware that Tommy was lingering in the hallway.

Tommy finds Joel nursing a beer and listening to one of your father’s neighbors talk about the bathroom that he wanted to remodel. Obviously wanting a quote, sight unseen. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Tommy asks Joel, nodding in apology to the potential customer. Once he gets him alone, Tommy shuffles nervously. “So I heard something…..” 

Joel clenches his jaw as Tommy relays the conversation that he had heard between you and your mother. “Right.” He spits after a moment, glancing over at you and then back at his brother. “Think I’m going to call it a night.” He decides.

You frown when you don’t see Joel anymore and you ask Tommy where he went. The younger Miller brother is a little cold towards you and tells you his brother went home, decided to call it a night. You nod and thank him and Maria for coming when he tells you they are leaving. You’re confused Joel didn’t say goodbye but you suppose that’s his MO. 

****

The next day, Joel is back working in the house and you glance around to see where Tommy is before you waltz over to him, a smile on your face. “Hey handsome. Working in my bedroom today?” You ask, “I need some help moving the bed.”

Joel looks up at you for a brief moment and then back down at his tools. “Tommy and I will move it. I’d prefer it if you weren’t in the room.” He tells you. “Liability.” He doesn’t look back up and doesn’t say another word while you are standing there waiting for him to take you up on your obvious overture.

Your smile falls, his gaze turning back to his tools and you deflate. “Oh, uh, okay. Sure. I can take my work to the living room.” You step back, wondering if he’s had a bad morning. You leave the hallway without another word and grab your laptop, heading downstairs to work. Later that afternoon, Tommy is out getting their lunch and you walk into your bedroom to find Joel working on ripping up the old carpet. “You need a drink?” You hold out the bottle of water, “figured you could use a break while you wait for Tommy to get back.” You bend over so he can look down your shirt at your tits.

“I’m good.” He doesn’t look up, not wanting to see your tits or your legs on display. “Have a bottle over there.” He doesn’t even stop working and just nods his head towards his tool bag. “Be finished by tomorrow.” His words are short and clipped.

There’s definitely something wrong. You frown and huff, standing up straight and you don’t leave right away. You uncap the bottle and tilt your head back, chugging half the water. With a dramatic sigh of satisfaction, you spin on your heel and leave the room.

Joel continues working but he sighs, hating that he had ever thought that you would want him. He was stupid, he had started to care about you. Way too much, it was better to just keep things professional between you. He was the contractor, nothing more.

****

A couple of days pass by and you ignore Joel and Tommy’s presence in the house, deciding to work at some coffee shops instead, but today is a gorgeous day. The sun is shining, you don’t need to work, so you decide to sit in the sun and have a drink. You walk into the kitchen where Joel is sitting, looking over his materials, and you open the fridge to grab a drink while dressed in the smallest bikini you own. Just because he’s ignoring you doesn’t mean he won’t notice you. Maybe he’s in a bad mood. You’d forgive him if he touched you again.

The muscles in Joel’s jaws have been getting a workout. Clenching every time you walk into a room half naked and primping around. He knows what you are doing and it’s starting to piss him off. He's ached for days, having to go home and jerk off after work every night like he’s a teenager again. “Need to put some fucking clothes on.” He grumbles under his breath.

You turn your head to look at him, “did you say something?” He shakes his head and you hum, taking your drink outside to the sun loungers your parents had bought for the summer. You sigh as you lay down in view on the kitchen window. Taking off your top to sunbathe.

It takes him about fifteen minutes to notice you. Hissing in anger when he sees your tits on display. He grabs one of his work rags and stalks outside angrily. “Cover yourself up.” He growls, tossing the rag over your chest. “My fucking brother doesn’t want to see your tits and his wife certainly doesn’t want him to.”

You glare at him from behind your sunglasses. “Your brother isn’t here, asshole.” You toss the rag back at him. “It’s my day off. I wanted to relax and you are interrupting that.” You hiss at him, “and it’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

“Fuck this.” He growls. “I’m done for the day.” He’s pissed off and needs to get away from you.

You huff, grabbing the rag back. “You don’t need to leave. I’ll go inside. If you leave, you’ll need more time to finish your work and I don’t want you staying longer than necessary. You might as well stay and I’ll go inside. Give you a break from my tits.” You growl, shifting to stand up from the lounger.

“I’m just the help, right?” He scoffs. “Someone to use and have fun with?” Hearing what you had said hurt because Tommy had said you had seemed appalled that your mother figured it out. “So I think it’s best that I keep things professional. So there’s no confusion. Not like you’d want people to know you were getting fucked by the carpenter.” He shakes his head. “I’ll have Tommy finish up this job.”

“I- I didn’t - you heard my conversation with my mom? I was - I was trying to save your ass. It’s not exactly professional to sleep with your client's daughter. I- it was fun. Until you decided to be an asshole. I figured you wanted to keep it casual and I want to know more about you but we don’t exactly have time to sit down and tell our life story.”

“Tommy heard you.” He corrects, wondering if you’re just trying to cover your ass or if you were trying to protect him. He waits for a moment, biting his lip. “If you want to know about me, I’ll be at Bill & Frank’s tonight.” He tells you, planning on going to the dive bar that Frank has tried to make a little more classy. “Up to you.”

You nod, knowing it’s best to not push him anymore right now. You grab your bikini top and head inside, deciding to leave him be and meet him later. You head back inside and you don’t look back, figuring that he’d want to be left alone. 

****

You brush your dress down, looking up at the crooked sign for Bill and Frank’s and you inhale deeply. Reaching for the door, you head inside and it’s a weird mix of old fashioned saloon and an afternoon tea shop. Lace doilies on the tables with small lamps and worn coasters. The artwork on the wall says “eighty year old woman” while the floor is sticky.

“Well that doesn’t walk in here often.” Bill grunts, looking at the door with an almost annoyed glare, which was normal for the cantankerous bar owner. “Trouble if I’ve ever seen.” 

Joel looks over his shoulder to see you and snorts. “Surprised you noticed.” He huffs at the other man, smirking slightly when the bearded man shifts his glare to him. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Frank.” He’s sort of friends with Bill and Frank, the proprietors of the little bar. Or it’s better to say, Tess was really good friends with Frank, so Bill and Joel had tolerated each other. After Tess had died, Joel had found himself still coming back.

You spot Joel at the bar and make your way over. He turns to look at you, “hey.” He grunts and you offer him a soft smile as he pulls the bar stool out next to him for you to sit down. He slides the shot he had sitting in front of him over to you and you don’t hesitate to tilt your head back as you down it. Bill snorts, wiping down the counter, “what can I get you?” He asks and you order a beer. “I didn’t know if you’d be here. You didn’t give me a time.”

“Sorry.” He grunts, lifting his beer to his lips and takes a sip. “Figured you’d come and I’d be here.” Bill chuckles as he wipes down the bar with a rag, smirking slightly at the sight of Joel and another woman. “You on a date, Miller?” He cackles.

“Joel is working on my parents’ house.” You explain and Bill snorts, “this is the hussy that’s got you running around in circles?” He asks and your eyebrows raise. Joel shakes his head, “go get her drink and get Frank out here if you can’t be nice.” He orders and you huff, “been talking me up, huh?” Joel shrugs and you sigh, “I suppose I deserve that. I haven’t exactly treated you fairly. It wasn’t just fun for me. I wanted more.” You admit softly, looking down at the counter.

Joel snorts as Bill walks away and cuts you a look before he takes another sip of his beer. “I’m old, little girl.” He reminds you. “You’re a hell of a lot younger, wanting things I can’t give you. Like kids and shit.”

You tap your fingers on the counter, closing your eyes for a second. “We never had a discussion about birth control other than me telling you it was taken care of. The truth is…my ex cheated on me.” You take a deep breath, “he cheated on me because I found out I’m infertile. We tried for a year. Figured we would do the tests when we discovered that I can’t - I have PCOS and it was bad. They did some tests and scans and I had to have my ovaries removed then he - he cheated on me. She’s pregnant. That’s why I moved home. I was in his house and I was sure he was going to propose since he seemed to accept that we wouldn’t have biological kids but he - he cheated and I moved home. So to answer your question, I can’t have kids.”

“What a fucker.” He growls, angry on your behalf. “That’s a shit thing to do.” He will never understand someone’s need to cheat. Those people are complete scumbags in his eyes and he’s done a lot of shit he’s regretted. “I’m sorry, you deserve better than that douche bag. It doesn’t matter if you can’t give him kids.”

You nod, “it did to him. I’m glad I found out what he’s really like. Better to happen like that instead of when we have had adopted two kids and I’m stuck with him.” You confess just as another man comes over to set your beer down along with another for Joel. The man, you assume he is Frank, says your name. “Right? The pretty girl you’ve been telling us about. She’s as beautiful as you described, Joel.” Frank says and you fluster, looking at Joel who is busy studying the grain of wood on the counter. “There’s a condom machine in the bathroom.” Frank winks as he walks off to serve another patron.

“Jesus Christ.” Joel hisses under his breath, squirming slightly in his seat in embarrassment. “Gonna stop fucking coming here.” He gripes even as he picks up his new beer.

You giggle softly, “he heard all the details, huh?” You tease and you nudge him gently. “It’s fine. I didn’t know you cared so much, Miller.” You take a sip of your beer and glance around the bar, feeling someone’s eyes on you. A man, younger than Joel but shorter, is staring at you and you offer him a nod before you turn back to the counter.

Joel glances around and doesn’t really think anything of the people in the bar. Plenty of people are flirting and having a good time. Frank is down the bar waiting on another couple and he wonders if you want to get some food.

Frank sets another round of drinks down in front of you after he serves the couple down the bar. “On the house. It’s been a while since I saw Joel smile. Especially not since Tess died.” He says and you frown, turning to look at Joel.

He owes you an explanation. “Tess was my- we were-“ he fumbles for the proper way to describe his relationship with Tess. The ache was still there, deep inside him just like when he lost Sarah. “She was mine.” He finally settled on just that. “She died. Two years ago.”

You can see the pain in his eyes, losing someone else that he loved. Your dad told you more about Joel losing his daughter, Sarah, to a gunman in a gas station robbery that went wrong. Your heart aches for him. You reach for his hand, “I’m so sorry, Joel.” You murmur, knowing that there’s nothing else you could say.

Sorries always make Joel uncomfortable. It can’t change the past or bring back Sarah, or Tess. “Thanks.” He mumbles and drains the rest of his first beer. “I need to piss.” He tells you as he stands. “Be right back.”

You nod, watching him go. You take a sip of your beer and sense a presence beside you as soon as Joel disappears. “Hey baby. You done babysitting the old man? Wanna have some real fun?” He asks and you scoff, “he’s not old.” 

The guy leans against the counter next to you. “Bet he needs viagra to get it up.” He scoffs and you snort, “that ‘old man’ can make my legs shake and make me moan his name more than anyone I’ve ever met.” You say and he says, “until you met me.” He smirks, leaning in and you jerk back. 

“Please fuck off.” You order, hating how he won’t take the hint. “Come on baby, don’t be mean. Gimme a chance to make you cum.” He coos, reaching for your wrist. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” You hiss, trying to jerk your wrist out of his grip but he doesn’t let go.

Joel comes out of the bathroom, walking into the bar and the first thing he sees is you trying to pull your arm out of some asshole’s grip. The fucker not letting you go and Joel’s jaw clenches and his fists bunch together. “Oh shit.” Frank hisses, knowing what that look means. “Joel! Joel! Don’t do it! Joel!” Joel doesn’t even hear him as he crosses the bar in less than ten seconds and is dragging the asshole off of you. Whirling him around and punching him down to the ground before climbing on top of him and whaling away in an angry haze.

Your eyes widen and a shocked gasp escapes your lips as Joel continues to punch the asshole. “Joel. Joel. Stop!” You demand, knowing he’s going to kill the guy if you let him continue. You reach for his shoulder as he pulls his fist back again but he shrugs you off, his vision going red. Bill rushes around the bar, grabbing Joel’s waist to pull him off of the guy before he punches his face in. “Come on, man.” Bill grunts, dragging Joel off just enough for Frank to get in front of him. “Go. You gotta go.” Frank tells you when he hears someone calling 911. “Take Joel. Go.” Frank urges, knowing Joel can’t afford another arrest. “Motherfucker.” Joel growls, trying to get out of Bill’s grip. 

“Stop it,” Bill growls, spinning him to drag him out of the bar. You nod, grabbing your purse and Bill escorts Joel to his truck. “Drive him home.” He orders, shoving Joel into his truck, his fists bloody and skin broken. Your hands shake, taking the key from Bill that he pulled out of Joel’s pocket. You get into the driver’s seat, adjusting the seat, and you barely manage to start the engine. “You- you gotta tell me where you live.”

Joel doesn’t answer you right away, staring down and his hand and flexing it to make sure nothings too broken. Just a few hairline fractures from what he can tell with the adrenaline still running through his system. “Joel!” You snap, making him look up at you, his eyes dark and focused, causing you to nearly shrink back from him. “Where do you live?” You repeat and he knows he’s in no condition to drive. He murmurs his address and then looks back down at his hand, sirens wailing in the distance.

You drive a little faster when you see the flashing lights on the horizon, wanting Joel to get home safe and sound. Your heart is still pounding but you manage to figure out his street and pull onto it, squinting to see the numbers in the dark. Finally, you pull onto his drive and put the truck in park, killing the engine. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You murmur, getting out of his truck and rounding it to open the door for him.

Joel follows your instructions, getting out of the truck and following behind you as you climb the steps to the front door of his house. The old craftsman cottage has been a project for him, one that he needed after Tess, but now it is done and it is a beauty.

You unlock his door with the key on his truck key ring and you admire the workmanship that went into the home. Signs of Joel’s hard work are everywhere. You shut the door behind him when he walks in. “Do you have a first aid kit?” You ask and he nods, “laundry room.” He jerks his chin towards the door across the hall and you nod, “go sit” you order before you go find the kit.

He should tell you to go, but he just sits down at the dining room table and sighs. His hand hurts, but he’s fucking still amped up. His leg bouncing slightly as his pulse just jumps around.

You come into the dining room to sit down, opening the kit. Your stomach twists as you look at Joel, the dark look from earlier still not receding from his eyes. You’re silent as you work on cleaning the blood to assess the damage to his knuckles.

He wants you. The way his cock is twitching and throbbing as you work on him, it should scare him. Scare you. Your thumb brushes over his knuckle and he grabs your hand, making you look at him. “You should go.” He growls.

Your eyes meet his and you realize he doesn’t want you to go. You stare at him for a few moments, trying to figure him out until you say “no.” You won’t go. Not when he needs you and you need him. Sometime between the messing around and having sex, it became serious.

“I’m not going to be gentle.” He warns, wanting to be honest. “I can’t be. Not now, not when my fucking-“ he cuts himself off. “Last chance.”

You take a moment to wrap his knuckles. “I don’t want gentle.” You tell him, your eyes meeting his after you finish wrapping his knuckles with the bandage. “I want you. No matter what. I want you.” You promise, your gaze firm, showing him that you’re not running away.

Joel shoots out of his chair and grabs your shoulders, kissing you roughly, his lips bruising. He wants to destroy you, completely break you apart in a completely different way from how he would have handled that bastard. Wanting to banish the thought of him touching you from his mind and replace it with you.

You gasp into his mouth, his hands lifting you up onto the table and you grip his shirt, wanting to keep him close. Your legs wrapping around his waist and his cock is hard in his pants, pushing into your core. His tongue slides into your mouth and your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, tugging as you react to his rough touch.

Joel growls, biting your bottom lip and it’s like he’s lost all reason on control. He wants nothing more to break you down. His hands are rough and demanding, nearly ripping your dress off your body.

You reach out, fumbling to unbutton his shirt. Every time you’ve had sex, he’s been dressed. Tonight, you want to see all of him. You grow impatient and rip his shirt, buttons flying as you shove it down his shoulders to access his skin. Your hands explore his chest when the shirt hits the floor and you lean in, biting down on his peck.

He grunts, cock twitching and he squeezes your hands before he rips your panties off of you. Willing to sacrifice them to his needs.

“Oh my God!” You squeal at the ripping of your underwear. “Joel!” You gasp, moaning a second later when his fingers push inside of your dripping wet cunt. You slide your hands down to his belt, unbuckling it and you rip it out of the loops, working fast to unbutton his jeans and pull his hard cock out.

Joel pushes your hands away but you press your thighs together when he tries to step between them. “Strip.” You demand and he growls, needing to be inside you.

Joel kicks his boots off, his jeans hitting the floor and he shoves them across the floor. Naked in front of you for the first time, you lean back to admire his form. His arms are strong, freckled from being in the sun, and he has a slight belly but it’s so sexy. He’s not overly hairy and your hand lets go of his cock so you can caress his skin. “So gorgeous.” You murmur, lost in your own thoughts as you admire him.

Joel huffs, shaking his head. “I’m old, you’re gorgeous.” It’s the small bit of tenderness he can manage right now, but when he grabs you, his hands are harsh. “You’re not letting that fucker touch you.” He hisses, pushing your thighs apart. “He couldn’t fuck you like I do.” He grabs your leg and pulls it up on his hip, lining up and slamming his cock into your warm and giving cunt in one thrust.

“Joel!” You squeal as he stretches you out. You’re wet enough to take him but it pinches slightly. You don’t care. You grip his arms, lifting your thigh higher so he can push deeper inside of you. “Fuck baby.” You pant, tilting your head back as he starts to fuck you.

The table rocks, shaking and scrapping over the floor as he fucks you. Brutally slamming into you before quickly pulling back out to do it again. Savage and feral, his mouth bites and sucks at your tilted throat, needing to possess and mark you as his.

He’s possessing you with every thrust, bite, mark, and kiss. You’re surrounded by him. His woodsy smell from the lumber he works with in your nose and you moan, fumbling to cross your ankles behind his back to get him even closer.

He might break the fucking table, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way you take him. Your pussy giving way to the harsh thrusts of his cock and squeezing tight around him. He growls and groans, making noises that sound inhuman as he fucks you.

“Joel. Oh my God.” You cry out, your hands scrambling to grip him, needing an anchor as he fucks you hard and fast. It’s harder than anything you’ve ever experienced. Feral and dominating but your cunt is absolutely gushing around him, your stomach clenched with arousal as he rocks into you. “Shit. You’re gonna make me cum.” You pant, reaching down to rub your clit, knowing he’s focused on thrusting into you.

He knows he should ease up, that you deserve tenderness but he doesn’t have it in him right now. The rage, the fury, all being taken out on your pussy. “Cum.” He grunts, the sound nearly demonic from how raspy he sounds. “Cum.”

How can you deny him when he asks you like that? He pounds into you two more times and you’re sent over the edge. Clamping down on him, your scream echoes in his house and your hand falls away from your clit to slam onto the table to keep yourself upright.

Joel hisses your name, so fucking close to cumming himself. It’s so sexy how easily you cum for him. Hips stuttering, he only manages another few thrusts before he is cumming, painting your walls with his cum as he moans your name again, softly this time.

You slump against him when he cums, his cock twitching inside of you, and you moan softly when he rests his head on top of yours. “Joel.” You murmur, throat closing slightly with emotions that you can’t give voice to.

Panting, he closes his eyes, his hands slowly relaxing and he sighs. “Are you- did I hurt you?” He asks softly. He hadn’t wanted to actually hurt you, despite being rough.

You shake your head, “no. No you didn’t, baby.” You promise, leaning in to kiss his chin and he sighs, turning his head to press his lips to yours. It’s surprisingly tender after how rough he fucked you. You cup his cheeks, caressing the gray stubble there to show him how much you care for him without actually telling him.

“Do you want to stay?” He nuzzles his nose against yours, realizing you must have left your car at the bar. He hasn’t even pulled out of you, but he doesn’t really want to. Suddenly tired and ready for bed after the evening.

“Yes.” You nod, knowing it’s too late to head home. He pulls out of you, slow enough to not hurt you, and you shift off of his table that has scraped along the floor. “Can I borrow a shirt?” You ask, watching him bend down to grab his jeans, pulling them on.

“Yeah, come on baby.” He uses his shirt to wipe up his cum and grabs you a bottle of water out of the fridge. “I’ll get you a shirt you can sleep in. Or you can sleep naked beside me.” He jokes, smirking at your wobbly footing when you stand up.

You’re soon dressed in his shirt, sliding under his sheets that smell just like him, and you’re exhausted. The events of the day hit you hard and you curl around him when he slides in beside you, water bottle placed on your nightstand.

Joel doesn’t like sleep, he dreams too much. Of Sarah, Tess and all the mistakes he has made over the years. Haunting him and weighing him down. Tonight, wrapped around you, Joel doesn’t dream.

The next morning, you wake up and groan against the sunlight peeking in through the blinds. “Joel?” You call out softly, voice raspy. The smell of bacon and eggs hits your nose and you get out of bed, peeing before you head downstairs to the kitchen. Your eyes widen when you find Joel cooking and sitting at the counter is a teenage girl.

“Holy shit, Joel! You had a sleepover.” Ellie pipes up, making Joel turn around from the stove. “Ellie! Language!” He hisses before he catches sight of you. “Hey! Uh, good morning. I’m making breakfast.” He explains, as if it weren’t obvious. Ellie snaps her fingers and says your name. “That’s you, right? Joel’s been talking about you.”

You are trying to figure out who Ellie is. You haven’t heard a word about her from Joel. “Oh, uh, yeah. Hi Ellie.” You greet her as you come over to Joel who is cooking. “Coffee is in the pot.” He says and you nod, grabbing the mug he left on the side and you pour yourself a cup. You feel awkward in his shirt, your hair all over the place, and you can feel Ellie watching you.

“Joel, Joel, Joel.” Ellie tsks and shakes her head before leveling a mockingly serious look at him when he slides her eggs onto her plate. “Do we need to have the talk, young man?” She snickers. “Are you engaging in safe sex?” She lowers her voice to a pitch that matches the old sex Ed videos. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses. “Don’t you have school?”

You smirk, finding it refreshing that the teenager is prodding at an otherwise always cool headed Joel. “Safe sex. I’ve looked after him.” You promise her as you lean against the counter and she chuckles, “he was practically soppy when I came in this morning. I slept over at my friend Riley’s house.” She explains and you nod, a little relieved she didn’t hear you and Joel last night. “I’m leaving for school after I’ve had my breakfast.” She adds, looking over at you. “I'm his foster kid, in case this dumbass didn’t tell you.” Ellie says, guessing from your look that you didn’t know about her. “I, uh, I’m sorry. Joel hasn’t really told me much.”

“Got lunch money, kid?” He asks, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some money. “It’s pizza day right?” He asks, smirking when she nods and snatches the money out of his hand before she shoves the eggs into her mouth and pops off the stool. “Well, see ya!”

“Bye!” You call out as she rushes off and you turn to look at Joel. “Another secret you’ve been keeping.” You tease softly and he snorts, “not a secret. Just didn’t want to drag you into my bullshit.” You shake your head, “that’s not bullshit. You- she seems like a good kid and you’re looking after her. You’re a good man, Joel. One I want to know more about. One I could easily fall for…maybe have been already.” You confess, reaching out to touch his arm.

“You….” Joel frowns slightly, setting a plate in front of you. “You like the fact that I’m an asshole?” He asks it like a question, one that he never considered before.

“I love the fact that you’re an asshole. You’re not an asshole to me…most of the time. I’ve never felt so wanted. I want - I want all of you, Miller. Even the asshole.” You joke, slightly flustered at your confession.

Joel shuffles uneasily and sighs. “I’m not good with words.” He admits, looking around the kitchen that he had once shared with Tess. “I didn’t- I don’t really share emotions.” He had realized that when she had thought he hadn’t felt the same way about her. That he hadn’t loved her. He had been raw about that for a long time, although the kid didn’t deserve to blame herself for Tess getting bit. Who the fuck would have ever thought a woman would die of rabies during this day and age? He looks back at you. “I can fuck you until you scream, protect you. Cook you breakfast. But that might not be enough for you.”

You reach up to cup his cheeks, bringing his eyes to yours. “That is enough. You are enough. I’m damaged too. Let’s not put pressure on this. We aren’t first loves. We aren’t teenagers. We are grown ass adults who can communicate. I don’t want a fairytale, I’ve been hurt before by silly dreams and fake promises. I want real. You’re real. I want you.” You assure him, your eyes burning into his.

Joel watches you for a moment and then gives a small nod. Agreeing with you. After last night, he’s not giving you up. You’re his. “I don’t break promises.” Joel tells you. “Not if I can help it.”

You nod, leaning in closer to kiss him softly. “I know, baby.” You murmur and he nudges his nose against yours. “I’m here to stay, baby. Especially with the way you cook bacon.” You grin, taking a slice off of the paper towel and biting into it. “You might want to stay at your parent’s house all the time when we are finished with it.” He jokes and you snort, shifting to sit down at the counter while he plates up the food. “I don’t think so, baby. Might have to convince my parents to add an extension. Keep you working for them.” You tease and Joel snorts, “you can have my cock for free.” He promises and you wink at him, swallowing the bacon. “Now that sounds like a good deal.” You smile and Joel chuckles, knowing that this job might’ve turned into the best one of his career. Not only did he get paid, he got a bonus: you.

[anistarrose]

Hey. Psst. Person who comments things like "please update" on unfinished fics. As an AO3 author with a couple of works on indefinite hiatus, I'm gonna teach you the secret to maximize your odds of that author writing more of your beloved story. And it only takes two simple steps! Are you ready?

Stop commenting "please update" and similar things on incomplete fics.

Leave a comment about something you enjoyed in the fic. Anything. If you liked it enough to reread previous chapters, let the author know that too.

Why does this work? Well, if you tell us you liked the fic, we can infer that you would be excited to read more. We can draw that conclusion pretty effortlessly — we're usually fic readers too, so like, we get it.

On the other hand, if you comment just to ask/beg for an update? You are much more likely to leave a bad taste in our mouths. Your comment may be intended to be polite, but it does not exist in a vacuum.

If you're commenting "when will you update I'm desperate" on a fic with a lot of traction, the author has no doubt gotten dozens of similar comments, and is absolutely exhausted by them. But if you're commenting "please please please don't abandon this" on a fic with a tiny audience, that might be one of the only comments the author receives. Do either of those sound pleasant? Being flooded with demands for more content, or to have the only response to your creation be about the fact that it's incomplete, instead of about all the love you clearly put into it?

I can't speak for all authors. But I've had works fall into both these categories, and to me, both suck. I've gotten "update plz" comments while fighting for my life to get through college while chronically ill. I've gotten "I hope you keep writing this" comments from people who didn't even leave kudos, on fics that were explicitly labeled as "bonus scenes" for a separate and stand-alone, fully complete work.

Do I want to shoot a rude reply to any of these comments directly? I'd rather not, because I'm sure at least some of them are trying to express that they liked my writing, no matter how bad of a job they're doing. But the fact stands:

It's not fun, or motivating, or going to draw me back into an old hyperfixation, when the majority of comments I get are appreciating me only for content. That's just isolating. The comments that make me want to come back to old projects are ones that provide a chance for dialogue — even as simple as "I'm so glad you enjoyed!" — and make me feel appreciated as a part of a community.

That's it. Content versus community. Just comment in a way that shapes your interactions with creatives and fan spaces to be more about the latter.

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐥

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: SEUNGMIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: VAMPIRE!SEUNGMIN, HIGH FAE!READER, FEM!READER, ARRANGED MARRIAGE, RUNNING AWAY, CHEATING?, BLOOD/BLOOD KINK, FIRST TIME/VIRGINITY TAKING, BITING, PRAISE, ORAL (F. RECIEVING), FINGERING, PET NAMES (PRINCESS,), UNPROTECTED SEX, ROUGH, CREAMPIE, POSSESSIVE SEUNGMIN IF YOU SQUINT  ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.5K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Both of them would have been killed if anyone found out. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near their land, let alone their realm. Nor was she supposed to be near his. 

     Y/n was always curious about everything in the land. And far beyond it too. Maybe that’s why she found herself in the mortal realm one night. Wandering the streets, admiring what it was like to be human without the responsibilities of a high fae set to wed in a year and a half. 

     A marriage she didn’t wish for. If she went through, she would be this king's fifth wife, much younger than his others from the rumors. She despised the thought of being with an elf that cared little for his lovers and more about his power. She wanted to escape. 

     Maybe that's why she believed Seungmin found her that night. The reality was he was going home and smelled her blood, non-human blood. His curiosity drew him to her. Maybe it shouldn’t have, but those elf ears and beautiful eyes lured him in. 

     He never believed elves were real, even though he was a supernatural being and shouldn’t exist. But when he met Y/n, the vampire was far more smitten than he had ever been in his long life. 

     She’d sneak over to the mortal realm every couple of days to see him. Enjoying the night and company before she returned home. Those mortal realm escapades turned into crossing borders deep in the woods where no one patrolled. Smiling and laughing. Maybe wanting more. 

     It was one kiss that sparked it. Seungmin never made a move until she did. She leaned in one night before he returned home and pecked his lips. Both were gone from that moment. 

     All those every-other-day escapades turned into every day. Sneaking out of the castle and into the arms of a vampire. One she felt safe and loved with. Enjoying the time they had when in a little over six months, they would stop this and she would be married off to a man who sought power more than anything. 

     “Run away with me,” Seungmin suggested as they lay on the forest floor, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

     “Easier said than done,” Y/n sighed as she played with his fingers. 

     “You sneak out every night. Just don’t go back,” Seungmin told her

     “Where would we go?” Y/n sat up and looked down at him

     “Away from the woods that way no elf can drag you back. We’ll figure it out,” Seungmin smiled 

     “Min—“

     “Please Y/n. You’re the first good thing I’ve had in centuries. I don’t want to give you up,” Seungmin sat up with her and pulled her onto his lap, her legs laying on either side of his. His hands holding her hips. “Please. Run away with me?”

     “Let me think about it?” Y/n asked holding his face

     “Of course,” Seungmin turned his head and kissed her wrist, lingering a bit, fighting his thoughts. 

     “Min?” Y/n drew him out 

     “I'm fine,” Seungmin cleared his throat, “You should go back. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

     “You're hungry, aren't you?” Y/n knew his tricks when he was hungry for blood—lingering on kisses, zoning out, pushing her home. 

     “I’ll be fine till I get back. Don't worry,” Seungmin reassured her

     “You know you can drink from me, right? Don't suffer on my behalf.”

     “No. I can’t.”

     “Why not?”

     “I wouldn’t let you go back if I did.”

     The look in his eyes was serious. He wasn’t going to let her go if he drank from her.  

     “Would you ever? Drink from me?”

     “I fantasize about it, honestly. Every night I wonder what if you taste as sweet as you smell. But I’m not risking someone seeing the mark. Not until I have you fully to myself,” Seungmin hugged her close to him, head resting against her chest. 

     Seungmin, though he didn’t say it often, loved her. If his heart could beat, it would for her. He struggled every night not to take her away from her world. Hiding her away from it. 

     “Tomorrow. Let’s go,” Y/n said after a few beats of silence

     Seungmin lifted his head to look at her. “I thought you were going to think about it?”

     “I did. Min, the option has always been you. No one and nothing else.”

     Y/n leaned down and kissed the vampire under her. Seungmin immediately kissed her back with a smile. Lips molding together before pulling away. 

     “Go back before you get caught. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Seungmin gave her one last kiss before sending her home and crossing the border back to his realm. He knew in less than twenty-four hours he’d finally be able to bring her home. 

     Seungmin spent his waiting time— after eating of course— making sure he had a place set up for them. At least for a week or two till they found something permanent. Thankful Chan had offered him a place in the city away from any woods so no fae came after them. Better than the small town he was in near the woods. 

     He made sure the place was set up before making the drive to their spot. quite early so he waited until the time to cross. He was just in time to see her walking to their spot too. She smiled wide when she saw him—dropping what she was carrying and running to him. 

     Seungmin caught her as she wrapped her arms around him. “I missed you,” Y/n mumbled into his shoulder

     “It’s been a day,” Seungmin chuckled

     “I know,” Y/n looked up at him, holding his face in her hands, “But the idea of no longer sneaking out to be with you made it seem longer.”

     “Don't start crying,” Seungmim smiled as he noticed tears threatening to fall from her lash line, “we have an eternity together.”

     “Let’s go then.”

     Seungmin grabbed the back she had dropped and took her hand, leading her beyond the barrier between realms for the final time. Seungmin was quick to pull her to the car and get them out of the woods. Driving into the city took a couple of hours but neither of them cared. 

     Seungmin held her hand the whole drive until they got to the apartment building. He pulled the car into the parking garage and parked it. 

     “You’re sure about spending eternity with me?” Seungmin kissed her knuckles

     “It was either you or someone I’d meet on the day of my wedding. I’d choose you in any life,” Y/n assured him. 

     Seungmin pulled her in for a kiss before getting out of the car. He met her on the passenger side as she closed the door. Seungmin smiled as he pinned her up against the car and placed his lips on hers. 

     Y/n melted against him as he held her hips, her own hands on his biceps. He bit her lower lip before letting go and pulling away. 

     “Let’s go home,” Seungmin pulled away and grabbed her bag out of the back seat. 

     “I hate when you do that,” Y/n groaned as they headed into the elevator. 

     “Well, we have all night and day to make up for every time I've left you sexually frustrated at me,” Seungmin chuckled as the doors closed behind them and he pulled her into his chest. 

     “That's about half a year's worth,” Y/n told him

     “Would’ve been less if we didn't stop that one night,” Seungmin leaned down, lips grazing hers

     “Hm. I was under the impression at the time I was still going to be married off and had to stay pure,” Y/n told him as the elevator dinged on their floor

     “Not anymore,” Seungmin pecked her lips before picking her up and walking out of the elevator. 

     Y/n wrapped her legs and arms around him and giggled. She never thought she’d be as happy as she was. Let alone with a vampire of all creatures. 

     Seungmin set her down momentarily to unlock the door and dragged her inside. Tossing the bag down somewhere before pushing her up against the closed door and letting his lips attach to hers again. 

     Y/n held the nape of his neck as she returned the kiss. His tongue ran across her lip and she let him inside. Their tongues danced around each other for a moment before he pulled back and picked her back up. Legs wrapping around his waist. 

     “All mine now,” his kisses ran down from her jaw to her collarbones and back up. 

     One kiss lingered for a second at her pulse point. Y/n looked down at him as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

     “Can I?” it was a vague question but they both knew exactly what was being asked

     “Yes.” There wasn't a need to think about it either. She’d permitted him the prior night but he still asked

     Seungmin kissed the skin one more time as his fangs made their appearance. “Tell me if it's too much,” He told her, hands holding her hips.

     “Alright,” Y/n replied as the tips of his fangs tickled her skin. 

     A moment later they sank into her neck. The warm blood flowed into his mouth as she gripped his hair. Letting out a moan and squeezing her legs tighter. Never did she believe him when he said a vampire bite could be so pleasure-inducing. 

     “Min,” Y/n groaned as he pulled his teeth out of her and licked the wound, picking up stray drops of blood. 

     “Taste just as sweet as you smell,” His voice was low in her ears. 

     Y/n crashed her lips onto his in haste. “Need you,” she mumbled against his lips. The slightest taste of blood was still there. 

      He didn't waste time moving them to the bedroom, as messy as the walk was. He finally got them there, a big of clothing having been shed along the way— his sweater and t-shirt, her corset (which he ripped off since he was far too impatient to untie), and her shirt as well.

     Seungmin laid her down on the bed as his lips moved to her neck and down to her bare chest. “So gorgeous.” he moaned as his tongue flicked her nipples and his hands worked on getting rid of her bottoms. 

     Y/n watched as he tossed the rest of her clothing off as he got lower to where she needed him. Lips grazing over her clit and making her squirm under him. His eyes met hers for a moment as he smirked. 

     A moment later he had thrown her legs over his shoulders and was making out with her cunt while two fingers were scissoring her open. One hand tangled in his dark locks while the other covered her mouth. Any noise that wanted to come out was blocked. 

     Seungmin caught sight of it as he glanced up at her. He took his free hand off her thigh and took her hand from her mouth, intertwining their fingers as their hands and laying them on the bed sheets. 

     He pulled away from her clit for a moment. “I wanna hear you, princess,” He started before diving back in. 

     “Oh fuck,” she moaned as his fingers curled up into her walls at just the right spot. Her legs closed around his head as her back arched up off the bed. 

     Seungmin pressed against the spot again as he sucked on her clit. A moment later the knot snapped and she came on his fingers. Seungmin pulled his fingers out of her and licked her clean. Letting his lips guide down onto her inner thighs, teeth growing once again before sinking them into the skin. Y/n tugged on his hair, rolling her hips a bit before he came up. Smiling as he ran his tongue along his teeth and lips, swallowing more of the crimson liquid

     He pushed her legs down onto the mattress and made haste to remove his pants and boxers. It didn’t take him more than a minute before the remaining fabric was gone, joining the rest on the floor. Y/n scanned over his body, the tips of her pointy ears turning red as she caught sight of his hard cock. 

     “We can stop if you’re not comfortable,” Seungmin assured her as he leaned down and kissed her neck

     Y/n shook her head, “I want this. I want you,” she told him

     He lifted his head and kissed her lips again. Gentle. Passionate. His hands cradled her head before he pulled away. Y/n chased his lips for a moment before falling back onto the mattress. 

     “I’ll go slow,” Seungmin pecked her lips as he moved to line himself up at her entrance. Running the tip of his cock through her slick and using his hand to spread it along his length before he pushed the tip in. 

     Y/n gripped his arms as she felt the stretch. “Fuck,” she whined 

     “I’ve got you, princess,” Seungmin held her hips and rubbed circles into the skin as he gave her a moment to adjust. He kissed her neck to distract her as he slowly pushed in again. 

     Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck to anchor herself. It was an addicting feeling of pain and pleasure. Especially when she felt his teeth sink into her for a third time. 

     She moaned loudly from the pleasure of his bite. Seungmin used the opportunity to push all the way in. Sheathing himself inside her. Y/n pulled at his hair as he took his teeth out of her. Licking the spot and returning to kissing her neck as he slowly pulled out and played back in. 

     “Feel and tastes so fucking good,” Seungmim groaned as he accidentally delivered a very harsh thrust.

     “Min,” Y/n moaned, not in pain. 

     Seungmin repeated the action once more, watching her throw her head back into the pillow. He smiled, pulling her legs up around his waist and grabbed her hands, interlacing their fingers as he pinned them down next to her head, roughly thrusting into her. 

     “Who knew my little princess was gonna like it rough,” Seungmin chuckled as he pounded into her. 

      Her walls clenched around him as he continued on. Leaning down to kiss her neck and bite into her shoulder. That bite seemed to break the knot that was forming in her lower stomach. Her legs tightened around him as her walls spasmed around his twitching cock. 

     Seungmin kept his pace as best he could. Hips stuttered a bit as he pulled his teeth out of her. A few more thrusts of fucking her through her high and he was stilling deep inside her. Come painting her walls white as both caught their breaths. 

     Seungmim pulled out of her once he calmed down. He pressed a quick kiss onto her lips before getting off the bed and grabbing a warm rag to clean her up and grabbing some water. 

     “Sorry for biting you so much,” Seungmin apologized as he pulled her into his arms after cleaning the both of them up. 

     “I don't mind. It felt good,” Y/n smiled and kissed his neck, “thank you.”

     “For what?”

     “Taking me away. They moved up the wedding to next month,”

     “Hm. You don't need to worry about that anymore. You’re safe with me.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[cinnamonwhore]

⋆ ♡˚｡⋆୨lolita is not a love story˚♡

(this is a sloppy rant, sorry)

lolita is not a love story. it is about a crime. a cautionary tale about things that unfortunately happen in real life. the book itself recognizes it, humbert describes himself as a monster, dolores calls him a "dirty old man", the book begins with a fictional physcologist acknowledging it. dolores is a victim and humbert is a criminal; lolita is about the all to unfortunately too common scenario of a man in a position of power, a man who is respected and thus would never be suspected to secretly be this sick and twisted person, who is able to get away with a crime, he's smooth talking and can almost make you forget that he's a monster, and that's the point. and weather lo was attempting to seduce humbert is irreverent. lo is a child. it is humbert's job to not to "give in" (I don't know how to phrase it). so yes lolita is not a lovestory and never and never has been. if you read the book, truly read it and understand it, it is self evident. lolita is perhaps my favorite book and the most well written book i've ever read. it is not problematic(IMO) to enjoy the book, the aesthetic. but it is problematic to romanticize it, call it a lovestory, want to be dolores, think of all the real life dolores. i was merely sexualized as an underage girl, a child and that was horrible, so i can't imagine what lo had to go through.

i'm not the most qualified to speak on this and if your still not convinced there's many resources about it. i'd recommend shanspeare's video on it for a better, more well researched analysis. i love you all, stay safe.

xoxo, trini

[positivexcellence]

Jared Padalecki Says Goodbye to ‘Walker’ and Blasts the CW’s ‘Cheap Content’ Strategy After Show’s Cancellation: ‘F— It. They Can’t Fire Me Again’

The writers first introduced this Jackal storyline at the end of the third season as a way to excavate more demons from Cordell and Captain James’ (Coby Bell) shared past. What did this storyline help you unlock in terms of your understanding of Cordell? What were you most interested in exploring from a character perspective?

I’ve been fortunate enough for many years, many decades, to play characters that are in situations where the story is not about the situation necessarily: It’s about what’s going on with the character. On “Supernatural,” we fought God, we fought Lucifer, I was Lucifer at one point, we fought demons — but it was really about the brothers. It was about a bond; it was about the tropes of sacrifice, loyalty, determination, discipline and so many more things.

So when the Jackal storyline first occurred to the gang, [a serial killer storyline] was something that we hadn’t approached yet on “Walker.” And it’s something that the real Texas Rangers actually get involved with: They do hunt down and investigate serial killer allegations. So it was a fun template with which to play out past traumas, [as well as this idea of] trusting those close to you and them trusting you back and getting out of your head.

I don’t want to say I suffer [from this], but I’m in my head a lot. Partially that’s my nature, just the way I was born; and partially that’s my nurture, being an actor. You have your script, you read it, and you’re like, “OK, now what can I add? What does this mean?” So I just spend a lot of time in my head, and oftentimes it takes somebody beloved that’s part of my circle to go, “Hey, you all right?” And I’ll be like, “Oh shit. Yeah, sorry, I’ve been kind of elsewhere.” So [I enjoyed] playing that role this season, and understanding how the rabbit hole of emotions in your mind can sometimes affect more than just you.

This iteration of “Walker” has always been about Cordell’s neverending internal struggle to find the right work-life balance. For me, he seems to finally recognize that he’s done plenty of great work as a Ranger, but he has yet to really fulfill his duties as a father, even though he is about to become an empty nester. What is your take on where we leave him in the finale?

Yeah, it’s exactly that — and kudos to Anna and the rest of the writing gang. It was a lot of what I was going through [in real life]. It’s a lot of what I’m going through now, having worked since I was 17 years old when I started “Gilmore Girls.” There are a lot of things that you miss when you’re acting — a lot of graduations, camp drop-offs, kids’ games, whatever. It’s a wonderful job, and I’m so grateful to have been able to do it for so long, but there’s a lot that you give up.

So I think where we find Cordell in the finale is exactly in that spot where he’s no longer anxiety- or panic-driven about having to do the next job, having to get up and find somebody to arrest or find something to fix or investigate. He has realized — much to the credit of Jeff Pierre’s Trey, Ashley Reyes’ Cassie, and obviously Coby Bell’s Larry James — that, “Hey, the world goes on without you.” I think Cordell was in his own head for a lot of the episodes, and afraid that if he wasn’t around, things would fall apart. I think he found a place where he is like, “The world was here before me. The world will be here after me. And what I need to do for those around me is spend time with them.” So he’s come to a realization that there’s more than just the next job.

I think it took him — I don’t want to call it rock bottom, but getting out of control with his obsession with the Jackal to realize, “Oh, wait, maybe I need to step away from this for a little bit, and when I come back, I’ll come back stronger and more clear headed.” There will always be another job, but the family is growing up. August is graduating, Stella is in college, and he and Geri are working through some stuff. So I think he realized that, “Hey, I need to put my energies elsewhere.” It’s told in TV form, but it’s a really universal lesson. Sometimes, just doing something different, just changing your routine, can open your eyes to not only the positives of the routine — but also the drawbacks.

The writers have put Cordell through the wringer over the years, but this is the closest that he came to dying. The idea of mortality becomes even more intense when you become a parent — and, in Cordell’s case, a widowed single parent — because you have to think about what you’re leaving behind for your children.

Great point. [My wife] Genevieve [who played Cordell’s late wife, Emily] and I talk about that all the time, as parents. I think this is one of the lessons that both Gen and I hope to give to our kids, and for them to grasp as well. As kids grow up — and even adults — they will often deal with and question: “Is what I’m doing right? Should I be doing something else? If I’m not important here, then am I important at all?” I think part of the reason Cordell makes the decision that he does at the end of the finale is to show his kids: “Hey, I know I’ve been doing this, and it is very important. But so are you. It’s not a ‘no, but.’ It’s a ‘yes, and.’” It takes courage to leave routine, to leave habits, and I think he wants his kids to know, “Hey, it’s OK if y’all have to pivot, if y’all have to change. Do what you know is right, not what you think other people think is right.”

Unlike some other shows on the bubble, you and the writers elected not to shoot an alternate ending. That means you’ve left the audience with a couple big cliffhangers: In addition to taking a leave of absence, Cordell is also planning to propose to Geri; and James Van Der Beek was going to play the Walkers’ new (and potentially nefarious) neighbor. Did you and Anna discuss what next season would have looked like?

Yeah, there was so much to deal with, now that Violet and Kale are both young adults. They’re not children like they were four years ago, both literally and metaphorically. So there was a lot that we were going to explore with them — like, how much the sins of the father can carry down to the progeny, and how much Stella and/or August had, unfortunately, [inherited] their father’s bad qualities as well, which we dealt with this year with Stella. She’s very much like her father in the good ways and in the bad ways.

But we were very excited to have James on the show. He’s a personal friend, and he lives here in Austin. It wasn’t going to be like the Walker-Davidson feud necessarily [from Season 2], and the fifth season was certainly not written by any means, but I think there was going to be a very interesting dynamic that Cordell was maybe not anticipating, because he was taking a backseat on his law enforcement duties. We thought that James and his crew were going to be maybe up to no good, and Walker was just blinded to it.

Walker was a “Hell yes” or “hell no” kind of guy; he was either all-in on something, or he was kind of oblivious to it. And that was good when he was all-in on a job or all-in on trying to work with his family. But it was bad when he was oblivious: “Oh, no, the kids are fine. I’m fine. They’re nice. Don’t be suspicious of this person, or that person.” And he kind of got stuck in his own head, as we all often do at times. So we were going to explore that.

Is there something that you would have personally loved to have explored further with Cordell, if you had been given more time?

Oh my God. How long do you have? I really would’ve done the show forever. I just loved my character. I loved that I got to be in Austin with my family. I loved my cast and loved our crew. Maybe this is what ultimately was our downfall, but we weren’t ever seeking like, “Oh, here’s the explosion. Oh, here’s the wild cliffhanger where the aliens come down. Oh, here’s the next hot reality star that comes in and takes their clothes off.” It was never about sensationalism. It was more about life. When Anna and I first talked about the show many years ago, one of the reasons [this reboot] was called “Walker,” not “Walker, Texas Ranger,” was because he’s a widow and a father who happens to be in law enforcement. It was an exploration of everything that life could have to offer — heartbreak, disappointment, shame, love, becoming an empty nester — and I’m worse than heartbroken that we are not going to get to explore all those storylines. 

You’ve developed a tradition, on both “Supernatural” and “Walker,” of being the one to deliver the news of a renewal or a cancellation to your cast and crew. How did that happen this time around?

Yes. I talked to David Stapf at CBS and Brad Schwartz at CW before the announcement was made. And when Brad and I were talking, he was wildly flattering of “Walker” and what we had done, and he has his directives as well. He asked me, “Hey, how would you feel if we release the news or if you release the news? Do you have a preference? You’re CW royalty. You’ve been here since Day 1. How do you want to do this?” I thought about it, and I was like, “You know what, man? I think it might be best if I go ahead and make the announcement.” He was like, “Cool. Just go ahead.” And I asked him, “Do you want me to send what I’m going to post to you first, or do you want me to just go and post it?” And he goes, “We know you. We love you. We trust you. You don’t need to double check it with me. Just go ahead and send it when you’re ready.”

It was not easy to see the keyboard on my phone through the tears in my eyes, but I was grateful that I was allowed to [do that]. So often, when these big announcements are made, it’s like, “OK, here’s what’s going to happen. Don’t say anything until 1 p.m. in three days because we haven’t called all the outlets yet.” It felt like a very human send-off to go, “OK, do what you need to say, and we will reiterate it.” It felt like a great part of the closure that I’m still seeking. 

Did The CW ever give you a reason for the cancellation? Did it come down to budgetary reasons? Do you know any of the particulars?

Yeah. I talked with the head of CBS and the head of Nexstar/CW, I talked with the other [executive producers] on “Walker,” and I think it was a multivariate kind of issue. My understanding is — and again, this is just what I’m told — that Nexstar is going in a different direction with The CW. I mean, they have an hour of “Trivial Pursuit” and an hour of “Scrabble” coming up. I don’t know why you wouldn’t just download the app or grab a board game and play with your friends, but they’re clearly just — what’s that great quote? It’s like, “If somebody tells you who they are, ask questions. If somebody shows you who they are, believe them.”

I feel like The CW that I was a part of last year is not The CW that I was a part of under [former chairman and CEO] Mark Pedowitz for that entire, almost 20-year stretch. They’re just changing the network around, where it’s not really going to be a TV network as much as it’s going to be, “Here’s something fun for an hour that you’ll never watch again, but hopefully you watch it. And it’s cheap!” And I hate to say that, but I’m just being honest. I mean, fuck it. They can’t fire me again. I’m just being brutally honest. I think it felt to me like they were looking for really easy, cheap content that they could fill up time with.

You’ve only had a few weeks to process the cancellation, but have you given any thought to what you will do next?

I left two days [after the cancellation was announced] to go to Europe for work and then for play. My wife and kids met me out there, and we took a little vacation that was already planned. It was strange, and it was both horrible and wonderful. It was horrible because I really wanted to grieve. I really wanted to sit there and grieve, and call my cast. But here I was, eight or 10 hours ahead of their time zone, and I couldn’t make a phone call to everybody I wanted to make. The texts would come in when I woke up in the morning, and I just wanted or needed a personal connection with everybody who I had worked with for so long. But it was great, because I had a lot of distractions.

But I haven’t taken a whole lot of time just yet to think about what’s next. I kind of said this at the end of “Supernatural”: I wasn’t interested in acting [again], per se. I do love producing. I love the production aspect, and I love the problem-solving that comes with it. So there are a few things that my wife and I are in the process of developing that I would love to produce and act in. But beyond that, I still feel like I haven’t grieved the loss of “Walker,” so I don’t know yet if I trust my feelings. That sounds like a cop-out. I’m so sorry.

No, that’s a totally valid answer, considering that you openly spoke about how you hoped “Walker” would last just as long as, if not longer than, “Supernatural.” It’s natural that you wouldn’t necessarily know where to go from here.

Yeah, I don’t want to disappear into the bushes by any means, but I kind of want to disappear into the bushes. But hopefully, at this point in my life, and much like Cordell realized at the end of Season 4, I need to take a good, long, hard look at my personal life and the time I spend with my family and my friends, and I need to stop being so aggressive and obsessed with work. I still want to work, but for now, you’ll find me in and out of the bushes, hanging out with family and seeing friends. If a project comes up and I don’t care about it, then money doesn’t matter. But if a project comes up and I love the story or there’s somebody I really want to work with, then all right, [I’ll do it].

One of the people that you presumably want to work with again is Eric Kripke, who already recruited your former “Supernatural” costar Jensen Ackles to star in his current show, “The Boys.” Now that your schedule has opened up, are you officially joining the final season of “The Boys”?

Well, I’ll say this: Kripke and I texted today. It’s not been written yet, but I think he was saying [the final season] doesn’t even film until 2025. So yeah, I’m going to go play in Kripke’s newest playground. I had a great time the first time around, so I’m sure I’ll have a great time here again. I love the show. I think it’s hilarious and exciting. But you were asking what my plans for the future were — and I love Jensen and Eric Kripke. Obviously, I’ll be indebted to [Kripke] and entangled with him forever. I met my wife because of him. I was Sam Winchester because of him. “Supernatural” happened because of him. So working with him on a show that I enjoy, I’m like, “Yeah, when do I fly out?” But I don’t think we would film until at least January. 

Your body of work has spanned so many genres, but is there a specific genre that you are looking to explore next?

I thought “Walker” was kind of a mixture of “Gilmore Girls” and “Supernatural.” It was a family show with excitement and stunts, and macro storylines married with the micro. You know what? There’s a script that I love, and if we can get it turned into something, then I’d love to be a part of it. It’s actually a sitcom, but not a slapstick or knee-slapping sitcom. It’s kind of like a family-esque sitcom. It could actually be an hourlong show that you’d kind of define as a sitcom.

One of the things I really enjoyed about “Walker” was the humor that I was able to try and bring to screen, because my characters on “Gilmore Girls” and “Supernatural” were more stoic and serious, and I am by nature a much goofier person than the characters I’d played for 20 years. It terrifies me, because I think I’m funny among friends, but I don’t think I’m a funny person. I just think I’m goofy.

I’d like to explore that. It’s scary. It’s something I haven’t done, and I think I’d be very intrigued. 

It seems very difficult for dramatic actors to make that transition to comedy.

It’s so difficult!

You’ve now starred in over 450 episodes of primetime network TV, which is no small feat. What is your biggest takeaway from the time you’ve spent on The WB and The CW? When you think back to your biggest aspirations when you began on “Gilmore Girls,” how did your dreams ultimately compare to your reality?

Yeah, it’s been a long time. I think there’s some form of the saying, “If I only knew then what I know now…” Oftentimes, [this is] such a cutthroat industry. I think I spent so long in my adult life trying to get to a point where I could live my life, where I felt comfortable, where I felt safe and secure. I love storytelling. I love storytellers. I love raconteurs. I love that friend we all have that can just talk for an hour, and you’re laughing, you’re crying, you’re interested, and you’re learning. I love being able to pretend to be one of those characters on screen.

But I think along the way, it feels like I really learned, “Hey, don’t work to earn. Work to learn.” And at some point in time, you’ve got to look in the mirror and go, “Hey, you’re working towards some ever-moving goalpost. Why don’t you try and enjoy it now?” I think that’s kind of where I sit now. We’re just about a month [removed] from the announcement that we weren’t picked up again, so it’s kind of funny how life imitates art, or art imitates life. What Cordell went through in the finale and what I’m going through now are mirrors. I’ll be 42 next month. Am I waiting until I’m 60 and I have 800 episodes of television or something? I have to live my life now. I’ve got a 12-year-old, a 10-year-old, and a 7-year-old. 

I think, ironically, in trying to tell somebody else’s story for so long, I’ve realized that my story has value too.

Variety

[astra-kamari]

First kiss-and all the feelings after

Summary: Percy first kiss with reader and like all his feelings about it and just kind of being ridiculously happy and a little freaked but in a good way

Pairing: Percy Jackson x reader (no cabin specified but i think i started hinting at apollo)

Percy pov

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I was sitting on the porch of the Poseidon cabin, enjoying the sunlight and the cool ocean breeze, when I heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

I looked up to see you walk towards me, a smile on your face. I couldn’t help but feel a warm feeling in my chest as you approached.

“Hey,” I said, my voice sounding quieter than usual. “What’s up?”

“Not much, hows your day been?” You smile as you reply, gods how i loved your smile.

“It’s been alright,” I replied with a shrug. “Just doing the same old stuff, training and all.”

I couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked in the sunlight, the way your hair glowed and your eyes shone.

“So….whatd you want to talk to me about” you made a expression i couldn’t quite pinpoint, nervousness maybe?

I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling a little nervous. “Um, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

I looked away, feeling my heart thump against my chest. Why was I so nervous all of a sudden?

You smile “alright shoot”

I took a deep breath, mustering up the courage to say the words that had been on my mind. “I was wondering… if you would like to go on a walk with me?”

There, I said it. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for your response.

“wait is that what all this was about? You just wanted to go on a walk together”you laugh “of course ill go on a walk with you, Percy”

I chuckled nervously, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment. “Yeah, that’s all it was. I just wanted to spend some time with you, you know?”

I stood up and started walking towards the beach, motioning for you to come with me.

We walked side by side along the beach, our feet sinking into the soft sand with each step. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the air, and the cool breeze blew through our hair.

I glanced over at you, admiring your features in the sunlight. “You look really beautiful today,” I blurted out, before regretting it immediately.

You however just smiled, “thanks Percy”

I smiled sheepishly, feeling a flutter in my stomach at the sound of your voice saying my name. “Anytime,” I replied, shoving my hands into my pockets.

We walked in silence for a few moments, the sound of the waves and the breeze the only thing breaking the quiet. I stole another glance at you, feeling my heart thump harder in my chest.

“So….nice weather were havin eh?”

I chuckled at your joke, grateful for the attempt to break the tension. “Yeah, it is. Perfect for a beach walk.”

We walked a little further in silence before I spoke up. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.”

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. “Have you ever… you know… kissed someone before?”

I winced a little as the words left my mouth, wishing I could take them back. But it was too late now.

You just laugh, “no i cant say that i have, what about you?” You look at me with interest in your eyes.

I blushed a little, feeling embarrassed to admit it. “Yeah, I have. But it was a long time ago, and it didn’t mean much.”

I paused for a moment, suddenly feeling bold. “Do you ever think about what it would be like to kiss someone?”

You stop and think for a moment, “i mean…doesn’t everyone?”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” I replied, stopping to turn and face you.

We stood there for a moment, looking at each other in silence. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore suddenly felt much louder, much like my heart beat.

“Can I… ask you something else?”

You look up at me, “anything”

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart thumping in my chest. “Can I… try something? It might sound weird, but I just want to see something.”

You simply nod your head in reply.

I stepped a little closer to you, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off your body. I looked into your eyes, feeling my heart thumping loudly in my chest.

“Close your eyes for a second. I want to try something.”

I can hear your breath hitch as you close your eyes.

I watched as you closed your eyes, noticing the way your eyelashes fanned out against your cheeks. I took a step closer, standing directly in front of you.

I reached out and gently touched your chin, tilting your face up towards mine. My heart felt like it was about to explode.

I stood there for a moment, looking at you with your eyes closed and your face turned up towards me. You looked so vulnerable, so beautiful.

I took a deep breath and leaned in a little closer, my hand still on your chin. I could feel the heat coming from your body, and I could smell the sweet scent of your hair.

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest, and my mind was racing with a thousand thoughts. But in that moment, I felt strangely calm.

I gently cupped your cheek with my other hand, my fingers sliding along the soft skin of your face. I was so close to you now that I could feel your breath on my face.

I was surprised however, when you push your lips to mine, wrapping your arms around my neck.

My heart skipped a beat as your lips touched mine, and I felt a rush of electricity run through my body. I wrapped my arms around your waist and pulled you close, pressing my body against yours.

I forget about everything else in that moment, forgetting about the beach, the camp, everything except you and the sensation of your lips on mine.

You pull back slightly and smile, “you were taking to long”

I chuckled, feeling a rush of happiness wash over me. “Oh yeah? Maybe I was just trying to build up the suspense.”

I pulled you back towards me, holding you tightly against me. “Or maybe I was just trying to admire how beautiful you look.”

You laugh and bring your lips to mine again.

I smiled against your lips as we kissed again, feeling my heart flutter with happiness. I rest my forehead against yours, feeling my heart slowly return to a normal beat.

“Wow,” I breathed out. “That was, uh, that was something.”

You Laugh, “it sure was, you know i never would have guessed you liked me water boy”

I chuckled, trying to sound nonchalant even though my heart was still racing. “Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises.”

I paused for a moment, feeling a sudden wave of nervousness. “Can I ask you something?” You nod, “And please be honest, okay?”

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. “How long have you… you know, had feelings for me?”

You laugh, “a while, a lot longer then you’ll ever know, i honestly thought you would have known my now”

I couldn’t help but feel a mix of shock and joy at your admission. “Seriously?” I said, my eyes widening. “You’ve liked me for that long, and I had no idea?”

“How could you not? I thought it was fairly obvious”

I chuckled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. “I dunno, I guess I just never caught on,” I admitted. “But now that you mention it, I see all the signs. I must have been an idiot to not notice it earlier.”

I smiled widely, feeling a wave of happiness wash over me. “So wait, does this mean you’ve secretly been admiring me from afar this whole time? I feel sorta special now.”

“Well you should feel special water boy”

I chuckled, feeling a warmth in my chest at the nickname. “Water boy, eh? What does that make you then, sunshine?”

You scrunch your nose at that, and i cant help but think about how cute it is. I smiled at your cute expression, feeling my heart flutter in my chest. “You know, you’re adorable,” I blurted out bluntly.

I chuckled, noticing the flush in your cheeks. “Aww, are you blushing?” I teased gently, unable to hide the smile on my face.

“Hey now,” you reply

I smirked, enjoying the way you react to my teasing. “What? Can’t handle a little teasing from your favorite water boy?”

We continue our banter back and forth, and i do everything i can to get you to smile.

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As we sat on the beach, the sun had started to dip below the horizon. The sky was painted with a mix of pink and orange hues, signaling the end of another day.

I looked up at the sky, noticing the darkening colors. “We should probably head back to the cabins soon. It’s almost curfew.”

“Yeah probably a good idea” you stand up.

I stand up alongside you, dusting the sand off my clothes. “Yeah, Chiron starts getting grumpy when kids stay out too late,” I joked.

I started walking towards the cabins, my heart feeling lighter than ever before.

You laugh and i smile, i dont think ill ever get over how adorable your smile is.

“at least hes not as mean as the harpies”

I chuckled, remembering all the times I had narrowly escaped the harpies. “Yeah, they're definitely more terrifying than Chiron when they're angry.”

We continued walking, the cabins getting closer with each step.

“Well” you say stopping, “this is my stop”

I stopped with you, feeling a pang of disappointment that our time together was coming to an end.

“Yeah, I guess this is your cabin,” I said, my voice sounding a little sad.

“Hey it’s alright, ill see you tomorrow” you smile, “you know your gonna be stuck with me all summer right?”

That perked me up a little. “Yeah, I guess I am,” I said, feeling a small surge of happiness. “But I don't mind, as long as I get to spend more time with you.”

You blush, “goodnight Percy” and start going inside

“Goodnight,” I called out as you walked towards your cabin.

I stood there for a moment, watching as you disappeared inside. I couldn't help but smile, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest.

I walked the rest of the way to my own cabin, my thoughts filled with memories of the day I had just spent with you.

As I entered my cabin and settled into bed, I found myself lying awake for a long time, reliving the moments we had shared. Even as I tried to sleep, my mind kept wandering back to the memory of that kiss. The way your lips had felt against mine, the way your arms had wrapped around my neck. It made my heart flutter just thinking about it.

I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to get you out of my thoughts. I could still feel the warmth of your body against mine, and the sound of your voice echoed in my ears.

Finally, I must have drifted off to sleep, but even my dreams were filled with visions of you.

[boyfridged]

i want to thank lovely @ekleiipsis for her contribution to amani’s campaign (amani reached her goal!) and many others. if you’d like to help out, please check my spotlight list. i am currently taking prompts for ficlets in exchange for proof of donation. details here. this is a ficlet written based on mar’s prompt (jay for the first time in the manor!). it’s 1086 words. enjoy.

(don't you wonder, sometimes?)

Jay does not go home. Or he does. The manor is his new home. This is what Bruce Wayne — Bruce Wayne!, not that he knew anything about him besides the vague recollection of rare headlines, tells him after taking the cowl off. There are black smudges of makeup around his eyes. And fluttering bats above them, on the cave’s ceiling.

“Theatre. And this— This is more of a palace,” Dad would say, probably. Well. Dad is not here.

Bruce Wayne is. Tall, but his smile is small. His steps, though, again – bigger. He is still wearing shoes even as he walks out of the silent clock, into the house, which is bizarre enough. Jason takes his boots off, because that’s the normal thing to do, even if Batman does not seem to know (or care). Then Jay ought to take twice as many strides for each of the man next to him, his legs too short to compare.

The corridor is so long that it feels almost like a trip, especially with the backpack hanging from his shoulder.

They make just one stop, in the kitchen, which is almost as big as the flat of his family. The fridge is the size of two regular ones, too. Wayne opens it and there are rows of products there, neater than the fancy convenience store displays. He takes an energy drink out of it and hands it to Jason. Then, he closes the fridge and takes a packet of granola from the cupboard next to it.

“Alfred is normally around to fetch snacks, but he seems to have gone to bed early,” Bruce Wayne says, scratching his neck awkwardly.

“Okay,” Jay replies, because he does not know who Alfred is. It is a posh name, all round sounds as he mouths it to himself. Better to remember.

“Sorry. You will get a real meal first thing in the morning. Is almond butter fine?”

Jay nods at the absurd question, accepting the bowl. “Okay,” he repeats, to fill in the silence, moving his weight to the other feet. 

“You must be tired. You can eat in your room.”

Because Jay is supposed to have a room of his own now. Right.

And they make their way there. First, there are more stairs — again, way too many. There’s also a portrait in the hall, a couple in what his mom would call “evening” clothes, and a boy, younger than him. They pose the way people in old pictures do. Jay almost stops to look at it, but Wayne is already at the top of the stairway. It would be easier to keep up by grasping at his sleeve, but Jay’s hands are full. They pass a vase without flowers. Maybe rich people don’t get flowers either. 

Batman halts in a spot that looks more lived in than the others. On the left, there’s a door with a “Keep out!” sign and some postcards. Pyramids. Some generic beaches. A huge, gold statue of Buddha. A very realistic rendition of a dinosaur. He gestures on the door across, on the right.

“You can have this one.”

For a moment, Jay just stands there, a bowl of granola with a bottle of energy drink on top of it balanced in one arm, and a pair of boots held in the other hand, suddenly sweaty. His heart hammers quickly, rabbit-like. 

“Okay,” he says, through a constrained throat, realising that what they are waiting for is his own reaction. Only then Bruce Wayne opens the door. 

Jay almost takes a step back, but that would mean walking into the man behind him. So instead he enters the bedroom. It’s not big, but it looks like it's from a period drama, which is intimidating enough. He puts the bowl on the desk. His shoes in the empty wardrobe.

Wayne disappears for a moment and comes back with a set of blue bedding, some rather big looking clothes (though Jay can’t imagine the guy in a Bowie’s 1983 tour t-shirt, so maybe it’s not his) and a hotel-like set of toiletries. Jay mutters a quiet “thanks.”

“You should rest. I will let you know when we have breakfast.” Wayne says, and after a pause asks, as if trying to speak his language: “Okay?” 

Jay attempts a smile, nodding. But Batman doesn't leave. He looks at him, and Jason is now feeling even more nervous, because the panda eyes make him want to giggle. This probably would not be an issue – he already mocked Batman plenty, called him names even – what was he thinking!, but now… He swallows, tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth. Since he entered the car (Batmobile!) all the adrenaline, both from danger and excitement, came down, like from a punctured balloon. And now he is facing a stranger. His confidence is just as deflated, old shyness taking over.

Batman looks like he wants to add something. He says nothing - well, a “goodnight” and resigns himself to briefly – almost absent-mindedly, touching Jason’s temple. The gesture reminds Jay of the priest from the cathedral in the East End. The one who called all the kids “lambs.” It’s kind. And even the expression on Batman’s face is familiar – a mix of puzzlement and worry. 

Then Jay is left alone in the museum-like room. 

He takes his belongings out of the backpack. Two sets of clothes, no fresh PJs – that Serious Moonlight Tour t-shirt might be helpful tonight after all. The battered picture of his parents. This is all he had with himself at the boarding school. And this is where they stopped. Not– not home.

“Okay,” he whispers to himself. Or sniffs. “This is home now.”

He puts the photograph on the bedside table. Except this way, his parents are facing not just the mattress, but also the window. And outside the window, in the darkness – nothing. A field of grass, some decorative plants, their shapes slightly menacing, tilting from the wind. The air here in Bristol is so fresh that the night is black, not grey. And there are stars, so many! Still, the silence– 

“Space for a whole campsite,” Dad would say. But the more Jay tries to imagine Dad here, the more uneasy he feels. And Mom, she'd laugh– “Give it up, Willis. I’m a city girl.” 

Jay touches the small, crumpled faces printed on the shiny paper. Hugs it close to his heart. And then, he puts it under the pillow. 

Today he will learn to sleep in the quiet. The price for the night sky.

[dekarios]

copying @gallusneves with this kind of poll hehe :3

please feel free to do it too !! and tag me!! i wanna vote :D

@aeducanthaig @roseeway im only tagging you two because i'm a fag and i want you to see it. actually i don't think red has played any of these so red you're picking based on vibes. i will outline the vibes.

yrliet: you and me against the world, soulmates, completely different cultures of two people who were raised to hate each other finding solace and understanding in one another, asexual romance with a spiritual mental connection through meditation and the climax of the romance is hand holding, i have literally never been touched by or changed by a character as much as yrliet

gale: scholar with huge ego finds you promising and likes to teach you but complains about other students, grand gestures and grand displays of affection and love, would grant you godhood if you asked, would give you everything you have ever wanted if you only asked, intense low self worth and your love helps him heal... also if you become a mindflayer he is disgustingly down bad he's a freak. also hes so bad at flirting he will say hes horny in front of all ur friends while ur covered in blood and guts cuz he thinks u killing shit is hot. freak. also he proposes to you and hes totally cool with u saying no

sera: chaos gf who just wants to have fun and enjoy herself who wants things to be simple and easy to understand, while i hc everyone as autistic she's The Most autistic, shes a lesbian, she woofs at hot women, she had cookies ruined for her and she says she wants to make cookies a thing between you both 'us cookies' so she can like them again, she proposes to you and is so excited to be your wife, she throws bees at people, she beats the shit out of rich people, she is so sweet and is a MASSIVE inspiration for afhiri i won't lie

samara: very very similar to yrliet in a lot of ways, milf, says shes past the point in her life where she can love that her duty demands she not be distracted by it that she is too old to do this again blah blah a billion excuses but she clearly likes you!!, when you help her finish her duty and do as she has always wanted she finally feels like maybe she can be with you now and try it

there u go red i hope this helps. null if u think i described someone poorly i am so sorry i rushed

[yoonivy]

sexy to someone. (patrick z.)

pairing. patrick zweig x f!reader, past art donaldson x f!reader

genre. romantic comedy. smut & fluff & a little angst. friends to lovers. fake dating.

You two were friends. Pretty good ones if Patrick can recall. But it was obvious that Art was the link between you. Neither of you would go out of your way to hang out with each other without the blond, but genuinely enjoyed each other’s company when Art was present. It did feel like there was some sort of unspoken agreement between the two of you that if Art wasn’t there, you were just acquaintances at best. With that being said — there is no harm in saying hello to an old classmate even though Art is not around, right? ⤷ or alternatively: A month before Atlanta, Patrick and Reader bump into each other in London, and star in their own little Romantic Comedy.

warnings. thigh riding, cunnilingus, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk (degradation & praise kink).

author’s note. i hope you guys enjoy this little (18k) fic :') !! i had so much fun writing it and would love to know your thoughts! also it's named after clairo's sexy to someone, which i think goes well with patrick's and oc's relationship :)

word count. 18k+ (🥲 haha, yeah... idk how this happened)

----

The break up between you and Art, as Patrick remembers it, was devastating .

Art was so depressed during the last two years of high school because of it that he almost lost his Stanford scholarship. 

The sad thing was, neither you nor Art were at fault. Just two young lovers so smitten with each other, torn apart so suddenly… All because your father got a huge promotion which caused your entire family to move all the way to the land down under. 

“What the hell is even in Australia?!” Patrick recalls Art ranting when he came back into their dorm after you broke to him the news that you were leaving in a week, only halfway through junior year.

Patrick had shrugged and unhelpfully commented, “I don’t know. I guess her dad’s making 500k more there than he was getting here?” 

Art shot him a withering glare, his blue eyes bloodshot from crying. 

Sighing, Patrick placed a comforting hand on Art’s shoulder. “Dude, I’m sorry. I know she was, like, the love of your life—“

“ Is ,” Art corrected with his nostrils flared in irritation. “She is the love of my life. Nothing is going to change that. No fucking ocean, or years apart, or anything is going to change that!”

“Alright, man,” Patrick held his hands up defensively, “I hear you. She’s the love of your life.”

Patrick supposes that life was pretty short. Because as soon as Art met Tashi Duncan, all that proclamation of grandeur love was forgotten. 

To be honest, Patrick forgot it himself. But seeing you now, sitting at the hotel bar just across from him, brought the memories back. 

You had not noticed him yet, too busy enjoying the book you were reading as he observes you from afar.  

It’s been years since Patrick last saw you. Seven years, he thinks, more than half a decade — at your going away party back in 2004. He remembers you hugging him at the end of the night, then pulling away to lightly punch his shoulder as you told him, You better grow up soon, Zweig . He had laughed and told you sincerely, I can’t make any promises, ___ . In response, you glared at him with no heat, and then bursted out laughing as you allowed him to pull you in another tight hug. 

The memory brings a smile to his lips.

You two were friends. Pretty good ones if he can recall. But it was obvious that Art was the link between you. Neither of you would go out of your way to hang out with each other without the blond, but genuinely enjoyed each other’s company when Art was present. It did feel like there was some sort of unspoken agreement between the two of you that if Art wasn’t there, you were just acquaintances at best.

With that being said — there is no harm in saying hello to an old classmate even though Art is not around, right?

Patrick answers his own question by downing his half full Guinness before he makes his way through the busy room to get to you. 

“What’cha reading?” He questions in a sleazy drawl over your shoulder, his face so close to yours that his mouth almost grazes your cheek. The scent of your perfume has him almost sighing, irresistible and captivating.

He snickers when you cringe away from him, taking delight in how visibly put off and disgusted you were from him invading your personal space. 

With a fierce glare, you side eye him, about to give him a piece of your mind. But then after a glance at his face, your eyes widen in bright recognition. 

No longer baby faced with his scruffy beard, but it has to be —

“Zweig?!” You exclaim in complete and utter disbelief. 

Patrick shrugs coolly, his signature smirk on his face. “The one and only.”

With your smile growing, you jump up from the barstool you are sitting on to throw your arms around him. The melodic sound of your laughter is in his ear as his own arms wrap around your waist, lifting you slightly off the ground during the hug. 

Once your feet were back on the ground, you pull away from him, though your hands were still clutching onto his biceps. “What are you doing here?!”

“I’m visiting family—“ you hum in acknowledgement, remembering that about him, “— what about you?”

There’s a flicker of something in your expression that Patrick catches, but it’s gone so quickly that he thinks it is nothing. “I’m on a solo vacation. A bucket list kind of thing. I’ve been going all around Europe for the past month.”

“Seriously? That’s amazing!” Patrick awes. He has always admired how independent you are, so this wasn’t quite a surprise, but it is still pretty cool to hear.

Wait a second…

He frowns suddenly, concerned. “You’re not, like… dying , are you?”

You laugh out loud, slapping a hand on his chest. “No!”

Grabbing your jacket off the seat you had laid it on beside yours, you excitedly gesture for him to sit with you. Patrick orders another pint as the two of you begin to catch up on the last eight years since you two last talked.  

After talking about everything from life after high school to your careers, finally you were curious enough to ask, as casually as you can, “ So… how’s Art?”

Patrick chuckles, head shaking. He can tell you've been waiting to spring that question up on him. You’re not as subtle as you think. 

“Uh… well…” Patrick starts, fingers rubbing the scruff on his chin, “We’re not really talking right now…” He clears his throat, and then despondently adds, “I haven’t seen him in three years.”

Unable to believe it, your mouth drops open in pure shock. “What…? You’re joking!”

With a tight smile, Patrick shakes his head. There’s a sad look in his eyes that tells you he is completely serious. You feel a pang in your heart, feeling like kindred spirits with Patrick all of the sudden.

“Oh. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine.” Patrick shrugs flippantly. “That’s life, right? People come and go, and all that…”

Humming, you nod in complete agreement. 

After taking a sip of your cocktail, you comment, “I’m just so surprised. You two were, like, attached to the hip,” you pause, lightly chuckling as if reminiscing, “I remember Sabrina asking me if you two were actually secretly dating and if I was just Art’s beard.” 

Sabrina? 

Patrick then recalls one of your best friends. Short, blonde, drinks too much espresso in her iced lattes. 

A smirk lifts Patrick’s lips. “She would know, wouldn’t she?”

Your eyes roll playfully at Patrick’s teasing tone, knowing exactly what he is inferring to. Back in the last semester of sophomore year, Sabrina had a huge cat fight with another girl over a guy – screaming and hair pulling and all — only for the guy in question to come out of the closet as he was pulling them apart. Your best friend still refuses to acknowledge that it ever happened. 

Going back to the important matter at hand, you further investigate, “So what happened between you two?”

Did he ghost you as well? You wanted to add, but decide against it. You’ve moved on from that, no need to bring up an almost decade old heartbreak.

Patrick lets out an exhausted sigh, downcast stare on the condensation dripping down his cold glass of beer. “Some things happened…” With Tashi, Patrick can somewhat understand why she wants nothing to do with him. But Art? His best friend since he was a kid? It still doesn’t make sense to him. “Honestly… I don’t even know myself.”

It is obvious that whatever happened, it is still eating him up inside. You decide not to press any further. This trip is all about new beginnings, and although your company is someone from your past, you want him to be a part of that as well. 

“Hey,” Patrick finally looks up at you when you gently elbow him. He meets your charming smile and soft gaze. Somehow, that pretty look on your face lifts his spirits up tremendously. “Wanna do some shots?”

Definitely in a better mood after that suggestion, a wide grin spreads on his face. “Hell yeah!”

Two shots of tequila later, Patrick does not realize how much closer he had gravitated towards you. It doesn’t seem like you mind though. His thigh is pressed against yours, skin touching skin, him with his mid-thigh denim shorts and you in your skin tight silk dress. You’re laughing together, foreheads damn near grazing with every flit of giggles, as you reminisce about the past. 

“Remember Felicity Cane and Gerard Somersby?” You nod, already intrigued. Felicity flew out every weekend to model for Abercrombie & Fitch, and Gerard was the star lacrosse player. They were the IT couple in your year, picture perfect in every way. They got married shortly after high school. “Well, let’s just say… there was a beard running around campus, and it wasn’t you.”

You gasp. “No way!”

Brows raised and lips pursed, Patrick nods slowly. Yes way. 

“With who?”

Smirking like a cat who got the cream, Patrick’s face said it all. 

It was him.  

Absolutely flabbergasted, you repeat yourself, “No fucking way!”

And so, he elaborates further, “For the entirety of sophomore year, I met with Gerard every Thursday in the projection room above the auditorium.”

Your jaw drops, because despite being tipsy, you can tell he is not lying. 

“But they’re married!?” You exclaim in disbelief. 

He shrugs. “I mean, her family owns multiple multimillion dollar businesses. Meanwhile, his went bankrupt after his dad ran off with his mistress. It’s better for him to stay, I guess.”

You frown, feeling awful for both Felicity and Gerard. “That sucks.” Then you pause, thinking, before throwing a scrutinizing squint at Patrick. “Are you sure I wasn’t Art’s beard?”

Patrick huffs out a laugh, leaning closer to you as he places a hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure.”

Your glare doesn’t let up, but there is more mirth in it now. 

Patrick leans back, arms crossing against his chest. You can’t help but flick your gaze on his well toned arms. Picturing it wrapped tight around you. Either around your waist or your neck, you don’t care.

Quickly, you shake away the thought. You sit up rigidly straight, keeping your expression neutral, just in case Patrick can somehow read your less than innocent thoughts.

Oh god, you really need to get laid. 

How could you even think about doing that with Patrick Zweig ?

“Art was so in love with you that one time I jokingly asked him if we could have a threesome and he didn’t talk to me for a month.”

Well now with that comment he is not making it any better.

You attempt to laugh it off, blowing out a raspberry and rolling your eyes. “Deserved. You’re so gross, Zweig.”

“What can I say?” Patrick has that lecherous smirk back on his face. “You looked sexy as hell in that red dress you wore to the spring semi-formal.” 

You heat up, recalling distantly his eyes on you all night during the dance. Back then, you thought you were just imagining it, that it was just the effect of the Smirnoff Ice that Chappell managed to sneak into her purse. But now you know the truth. 

“I was 15,” you remind him in faux repulsion.

Patrick hoots out laughs, flabbergasted that you went there. “So was I!”

“I suppose…” You sigh dramatically. “And I guess I was pretty hot that night.”

You remember completely feeling yourself as soon as you put on that tiny red dress that Sabrina let you borrow. Art seemed to think so too by the way he couldn’t keep his hands off you.

“Yeah, you were,” Patrick agrees without any hesitation. Typical Zweig doing and saying whatever he wants.  Then his leering gaze scans you from head to toe. Despite yourself, you shiver in delight at his attention. When his eyes travel slowly back up into yours, he murmurs huskily, “... And you still are.”

Oh. 

You must be drunk as hell. 

Because why else would you be eyefucking Patrick Zweig right now?

The bartender drops off another round of shots in front of the two of you that Patrick had ordered a couple minutes earlier. Simultaneously, Patrick picks one up and you pick up the other, neither of you breaking the salacious eye contact.

“To being hot,” you simper, gently thrusting your shot glass towards him so that not a drop of the tequila spills despite it being filled to the brim. 

What are you even saying ? 

Even Patrick looks surprised. His eyes widen, pointing at himself dumbly, asking silently — Who me?

You give him a flat look. “You know you’re hot, don’t even pretend.”

“Well, yeah… ” Patrick replies, like it is so obvious. “But I didn't think you thought so.”

“I may not have 20/20 vision, but even I can see the Patrick Zweig appeal.”

He grins at that, showing off his pearly whites, looking undeniably sexy in the low mood lighting of the hotel bar. 

“To being hot,” he declares then, clinking his shot glass against yours. Mirroring his grin, you toss it back, the alcohol going down quite smoothly. 

You slam the shot glass on the marble of the bar top just as he does, causing both of you to giggle closely together.

His laughter starts to die down, but the smirk on his face stays. So does the burning look in his eyes as he keeps them solely on you. 

It causes a throbbing heat between your legs, your thighs unknowingly rubbing together to create friction. 

Then you feel it. You glance down in surprise, watching his palm slide against your thigh, stopping just a little bit under the short hem of your skirt. 

When you look back up into his eyes, there is a question in his. Is this okay?

Your mouth parts minutely to suck in a breath — and you nod.  

So he keeps it there, squeezing ever so gently and yet so hot to the touch. 

Everything feels ablazed. 

Is this the reason why they call Patrick the fire to Art’s ice?

You’re not sure. All you really know is that you have the sudden desire to kiss him badly. 

And so your body moves, tipping towards him. 

You’re really going to kiss Patrick, huh? The groupchat is going to be in chaos tonight—

“_____?”

At the sound of your name being questioned behind you, you spring back from Patrick, startled. 

Annoyed, you sharply turn your head to the person who rudely interrupted your bad decision. 

A man stands there, awkwardly shifting in place. “Ummm… _____, right? I’m Andrew, your Tinder date? S-sorry for being so late… The traffic to get here was abhorrent.”

Yup. The group chat is definitely going to be in hysterics.

Because as you were getting ready for this date a few hours ago, you had sent them a screenshot of “Andrew”. 

Perfectly coiffed dark hair, smoldering gaze, fit as hell, and very old Hollywood — liken to a young Pierce Brosnan. 

This man before you now, is the complete opposite.

You got got. Motherfucking catfished . Simone said his pictures looked too professional to be real. You should have listened to her.

Patrick must have noticed the uncomfortable and mortified expression on your face because he blurts out, “Sorry, man. You have the wrong person. This isn’t — who did you say again, ____?”

Beady green eyes behind super thick glasses drifts between you and Patrick before accusing, “Yes, it is.”

You shake your head. “I’m—um, not,” you try, voice wavering, obvious that you’re lying. “W-what he said.”

Andrew scowls. “So who are you then?”

Your mind goes completely blank, so your wide and petrified eyes slide to Patrick. 

HELP!

Patrick has your back once again. He scoffs out a laugh at Andrew. “We really don’t have to tell you. But if you must know… This is my…” it takes him a second to say it, the fib on the tip of his tongue, but he thinks fuck it, “… girlfriend…” He looks towards you, hoping his lie is alright with you, and you are nodding at him to keep going, “... Sabrina.”

“Sabrina?” Andrew — if that’s really his name — repeats in disbelief, laughing sardonically. The audacity of this catfishing motherfucker! “Okay, Sabrina— what? What’s her last name?”

Patrick opens his mouth, and the man holds a hand up to stop him. With both hands up and index fingers pointed at both you and Patrick, Andrew demands, “You both have to say it at the same time.”

Well… Shit.

So when Patrick meets your eyes, and Andrew starts to count down from three, you are hoping and praying that this turns out well as your mouth opens and —

“Carpenter!” You shout out, just as Patrick exclaims the same. 

Instantly you two lock widening eyes, excited sounds coming out of the both of you. Patrick jumps up from his seat, and you allow him to tackle you into a hug out of delight, your jubilant laughter causing him to squeeze tighter. 

When Patrick pulls away, you catch Andrew’s dismayed and disappointed expression, glancing down at his phone then back at your face a few times. He is probably looking at your Tinder profile, trying to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

“Well, my girlfriend and I better be going,” Patrick tells him with a cheeky smirk, dropping a few bills on the bar to pay for the drinks you both had. “The night is still young and our bed is getting cold, if you know what I mean.” 

He winks at you, causing your cheeks to heat.

Clapping a hand on Andrew’s shoulder, Patrick goes on with an exaggerated frown, “I hope your date shows up, man. And I really do hope she’s as hot as my girlfriend.” 

Asshole , you think while your eyes roll playfully as you try not to burst out laughing. The poor guy already seems so sad .

“Let’s go?” Patrick asks you. You nod, securing your small purse on your shoulder, ready to leave.

But just as you take a couple steps closer towards him, Patrick points out the paperback novel of Pride & Prejudice you left on the bar, “Oh, shit, ____! Your book!”

You grab it — and then both you and Patrick realize his mistake, the two of you glancing at the man you both had just tricked. 

He looks incredibly pissed off.

Without another thought, Patrick takes your hand tightly, and your other hand comes up to grab onto his bicep as well. Mouthing I’m so sorry to Andrew, you allow Patrick to pull you with him, running from the scene of the crime. Yours and his laughter ringing loudly in the already noisy hotel bar. 

By the time you stumble out of the bar, you deem yourself completely sober, but the giggles don’t stop. 

After a block of walking with silence except for sporadic laughter, you finally halt, realizing you were walking aimlessly with no destination in sight. With that, Patrick is forced to stop as well, making you both look down, noticing that you were still holding hands. 

Flushing, you let out a bashful giggle as you unclasp your clammy hand from his. You cross your arms against your chest, glancing around — everywhere, except for Patrick. You were feeling shy all of the sudden. You’ve never been like this around Patrick before.

Watching you, Patrick’s lips purses into a small and endeared grin, huffing an airy laugh through his nostrils. 

Thinking about it now, he and Art have completely different types (Tashi being the exception, of course), but Patrick always thought that you were pretty cute. Not that he ever told Art before, because his best friend ( shit , not again) — his former best friend was over the moon about you.

You are completely off limits—

Correction. 

You were completely off limits. 

Not anymore. So really, there’s no harm if Patrick were to make a move on you…

But for some reason, it still feels wrong to pursue anything with you. 

So he is going to take a step back, reassess his typical flirty nature and go back to how you two were before. As if Art is still in the picture. Patrick will just be your friend. He really is in need of those right now. 

He calls your name, and when you finally look towards him, he juts his chin out towards the distance. “Wanna walk towards the river? It’s pretty nice there at this time.”

With a shy smile, you nod. 

----

The River Thames at this time of night is truly nice, like Patrick said. 

There are less tourists milling about and so the path isn’t as busy. Paired with the summer night breeze, you are enjoying yourself despite the silence that has fallen between you and your company. It is a comfortable silence though. Peaceful. Every once in a while, you’ll look at each other and smile. 

“ So… Tinder, huh?”

And there goes Zweig ruining it. But of course. 

You glare at him and he throws his hands up defensively. “Hey! I’m not judging! I’m on it too!”

Sighing heavily out of resignation, you step towards the railing and place your arms on it. Patrick joins you, his eyes on you while yours are on the boats passing by. 

“I never thought I’d be the type of weirdo who’d be going on dating apps, but here I am,” you tell him truthfully, the smile on your lips clearly self-deprecating. 

“No offense,” you quickly add, throwing an apologetic glance his way.

Patrick shakes his head, laughing. “None taken.”

Playing with your fingers anxiously, you continue, “I actually just got out of a… pretty long-term relationship.”

With a curious tilt of his head, Patrick questions, “How long?” 

“Umm… about five years. We met at the start of Uni.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah…”

Patrick frowns when he notices your eyes go glassy, then says sincerely. “I’m sorry.” 

You shrug, blinking away the incoming tears. “It is what it is…”

Another bout of silence shrouds around you and Patrick. 

Wallowing in your sadness, you think about your life and how you got there, why you’re even on this trip in the first place. 

The book in your purse weighs heavily as you realize you’ll never have a love like that. There will never be anyone who yearns for you and devotes himself to you like Mr. Darcy does for Elizabeth Bennett. 

Take Art for example — he told you that you were the love of his life… But the second he went off to Stanford, he stopped answering your calls. 

You don’t even want to talk about your last relationship. That wound is still too deep.

Are you really just that easy to fall out of love with and forget about?

“You know what you need?” Patrick says, pulling you out of your dreadful thoughts. 

Curious, you tilt your head at him. “What?”

That pretty grin is on his face again as he points to his left. “ That .”

You burst out laughing at his suggestion, because of course Patrick’s idea to cheer you up comes in the form of one of the most expensive tourist traps in the city. The London Eye. 

But you know what…

“Okay, yeah! Let’s do it!”

----

“I’m terribly sorry, but we’re done for the night…”

Even though you were having second thoughts about going on the London Eye during the walk over, a disappointed ‘ Oh… ’ leaves you at what the employee had just informed you. So you suppose you had made up your mind and wanted to go on it. 

But it’s too late. Checking the times of operation on the board of the booth, you and Patrick were at least two hours late. The wheel must still be spinning for clean up and maintenance. 

“No worries,” you tell the college student manning the booth with a tight and wavering smile. “Have a good night!”

But Patrick can see your disappointment and how crescent fallen you are. So when you take a few steps away to tilt your head up to watch the wheel, he leans over the booth and tries to reason with the attendant, “Look, man… I’m — I know we’re late but… tonight’s our last night in London and she said really wanted to go on this thing—“

“I’m sorry, mate. But it’s not up to me.”

“I know, I know,” Patrick reassures. “But… between you and me—” pointing at himself and the worker, Patrick murmurs discreetly from the corner of his mouth, “I was going to propose to her at the top of it.”

“Oh, um, congrats. But we still can’t…”

Patrick huffs and sighs and shakes his head like he is in distress — a real actor. “Okay, please hear me out… Her grandparents — who she loved so, so very much — actually got engaged on the London Eye back in 1951, and a month ago…” Patrick hopes to God that he isn’t going to curse your family from what he says next, “... they both… passed away… In each other’s arms… at the— at the… retirement home.”

The worker gasps, glancing at you sympathetically. You are none the wiser, still not privy to their conversation as your attention is now sullenly on the river again. “Shit, mate, I’m so sorry…” 

Patrick nods dolefully. “Yeah, it was awful — and her grandmother… She was, um, suffering from Alzheimer's. Couldn’t even remember ____ or anything else, not even her husband. So I wanted to propose to my girl on the Wheel so the memory can somewhat live on…”

The worker glances back at his coworker who heard everything and she shrugs, “I don’t know, Barry.”

“But you heard it, right, Alison? It’s so awful.”

Patrick takes out his wallet. “Here, let me sweeten the deal—“ he dumps everything in it on the counter. Barry makes a face when he sees that it’s only two five pound bills, some loose change, a stick of Trident spearmint gum, and two XL condoms. Patrick frowns as he looks at the gum — a keepsake of the last day he was still best friends with Art, spearmint being his favorite — and puts it back into his wallet. He throws in his nearly full box of Camels as well, as a sign of good faith.  

“You can keep the rest—“ Barry raises a brow at the condoms and Patrick smirks, “— we’re trying for a baby.”

“I hope it, uh, takes,” Barry says, then notices one of the pods landing on the platform. With his piercing blue eyes, he silently asks Alison for permission

As Alison rolls her eyes while walking over towards the window with Barry, Patrick pleads, “Please, man, look at her. Are you really going to say ‘no’ to that pretty face?” 

All three of them turn to look your way. You’re still staring up at the observation wheel, your doe eyes looking sad. Patrick’s stomach swoops at the sight of you. 

They all make up their mind right there and then, you are too pretty to say no to.

Alison reaches out and takes the condoms, her coworker stifling a surprised gasp. 

“What?” Alison snaps. “It’s not like you can use it. Paul can though.”

As Barry jaw drops without a rebuttal, Alison shouts out to their other coworker manning the passenger capsules outside, “Hey Jacob! You can let this guy and his girlfriend in! And there’s a free pack of Camels here for you!”

Jacob — who looks so done and tired for the night — doesn’t even question it, opening up the capsule on the platform and gesturing for Patrick and you to go inside. 

You glance at Patrick in shock and he just grins, looking pleased with himself. Even more so when your lips stretch into a wide, gorgeous smile. 

Patrick holds his hand towards you, and with chuckle, you take it. Together, you climb into the capsule. 

As the pod lifts off the ground, Archie — the London Eye crew’s supervisor — comes back from his break, catching sight of the two tourists inside. 

“What the hell?!” He bellows at the trio. “Why did you let them on?!”

Both Jacob and Alison quickly point an accusatory finger at Barry. 

“Barry did!” Alison tattles. “He was using those weird, sad eyes on me and you know I hate that!”

“Well, you see…” Barry begins, feeling attacked, so he tries to explain himself, “it’s their last night in London and he wants to propose to her, and her grandparents died recently, and they got engaged on the Eye in the 1950s so he wanted to do the same cause it’s, you know, romantic and sentimental! Also, they’re trying for a baby!”

Archie whacks the back of Barry’s head lightly, but the Irishman winces in dramatized pain anyway. 

“You baffoon! The London Eye was built in 2000!”

----

A quarter of the ride, you turn away from the windows to glance back at Patrick. You find him slightly sitting against the railing all the way on the opposite side of the capsule, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark navy windbreaker, his focus already on you.

The heat of his gaze has your heartbeat acting up, but you ignore it as you face him fully. Leaning your butt on the railing to mirror his pose, you casually ask, “How’d you manage to convince them to let us on?”

A sly smirk graces his face. “I have my ways.”

“I’m sure you do,” you counter back, teasingly.

Patrick chuckles while glancing down briefly, then his eyes are on you again. He can’t seem to take them off of you. 

“So how long are you in London for?” He asks, curious. He won’t say it out loud, but he hopes he has a few more days to spend with you. 

“Until Saturday.”

Patrick hums, trying not to smile. “What a coincidence. Same as me.”

You hum back, but you’re not as discreet with your delight, actually smiling. “Interesting…”

“It is…” Patrick replies just as the capsule reaches the peak, stopping completely. 

The view of London is beautiful from way up there, but you can’t seem to look out the window when Patrick’s handsome face is illuminated by the moonlight. 

“You know, it’s weird…” you trail off, and Patrick makes a sound for you to keep going, so you do, “We were friends since we were twelve but I think tonight’s the first night we’ve hung out with just the two of us.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Patrick tilts his head. “Do you hate it?”

You shake your head. “No, of course not,” More timidly, you admit, “I’ve been having a lot of fun… with you . it’s actually been a while since I’ve laughed this much.”

You tack on an awkward laugh right after. 

Patrick doesn’t say anything for a long second, making you second guess your confession. 

But then he starts to take slow steps towards you, and you watch him with bated breath. 

Stopping in front of you, he leans his head down closer to you. 

So close that you feel the tickle of his breathing on your heated cheeks. 

Your lashes flatter up at him and you catch the way he looks down at your parted lips. 

You let out a light exhale and Patrick does the same, seemingly closer than before.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asks softly, crinkles in his eyes with his pretty smile. 

You don’t hesitate to tell him yes.

-----

Sab

– oh finally she’s back at her hotel

You

– thank you for checking on me and my location :’)

Sab

– Of course bitch <3 

– You know I’m obsessively checking

– I need to keep you safe even though you’re a billion miles away :(

Simone

– Glad you’re back and safe

– How was the date?

You

– the date… 

– awful

– you were right simone :/

Ayo

– A catfish?! 

You

– Yup :(

Simone

– I’m so sorry babes

Ayo

– Nooooooooooooooo

Sab

– But you were out all night??

– … Don’t tell me you spent the whole night with him cuz you felt bad!!!!

Chappell

– That’s something she would do 

Ayo

– GIRL

– NOOOOO

You

– No, come on guys… that’s the old me

– I actually spent only like 3 minutes with him

– A nice gentleman saved me :)

Simone

– Oh?

– A nice British lad?

Sab

– WHAT?!

– I hope he was irish

– Irish people are the hottest!!

– BUT DEETS!!

Ayo

– You know i’m also irish 

– But yeah, deets!!

You

– Sab, chap… do you guys remember Patrick?

Sab

– … Patrick????

Chappel

– Art’s best friend?

You

– Yeah! He’s here in London and he saved me from the catfish!!

Sab

– ZWEATS?!?!

– ZWEATY ZWEIG?!

Chappel

– LMAOOOOOOO

You

– SAB WTF LMAO

– IM SCREAMING I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THAT NICKNAME!!

Simone

– I’m guessing this guy is from your boarding school?

Ayo

– And he sweats a lot?

– Stinky?

Sab

– Yes, yes, and yes

Chappel

– And he’s her first love’s best friend/boyfriend

You

– He doesn’t stink!! 

– It’s a natural male musk

– It’s not bad

Ayo

– So what i’m getting is that you’re into him and his stinkiness ;)

You

– NO 

– WE’RE JUST FRIENDS

Simone

– Is he hot though?

You

– He’s pretty good looking…

Sab

– NO

You

– Sab, you haven’t seen him!

– He looks good!!!

– But again

– Strictly friends

Chappel

– He’s pretty hot to my lesbian eyes

Sab

– Ugh

Simone

– So he’s in london and you spent the whole night with him?

You

– Yes

– As friends

Ayo

– Uh huh

Sab

– Suspicious…

– How’s donaldson?

You

– They’re not friends anymore

Chappel

– LE GASP!!

Sab

– WHAT

You 

– I’ll tell you more tomorrow

– I’m gonna sleep

– Patrick wants to get breakfast tomorrow

Simone

– As friends? ;)

You 

– As friends :)

– Good night my lovelies

Simone

– Good night angel!

Ayo

– Have fun tomorrow!

Chappel

– night <3333

Sab

– Good night….

– BUT YOU’RE NOT FOOLING ME BITCH

– CANT BELIEVE MY BEST FRIEND IS INTO ZWEATS!!!

----

Contrary to popular belief (Sabrina’s), you are not into Patrick Zweig. 

Sure he makes you laugh, makes you try new things that you’d usually say no to, challenges you, makes you feel good about yourself — but he’s just a friend. And it’s nice to have a friend like Patrick during this brand new era of your life. 

For the past three days, the two of you have been hanging out, pretty much until morning to night. 

On the first day, he took you to all the best local spots in central London. Your own personal tour guide since he knew the city quite well from visiting his family every couple years. 

You’re so used to reserved and introverted men, that the way Patrick captivates people with his outgoing and flirty personality makes everything so much more fun. With him, you’re having conversations with strangers which leads to so many interesting stories. Not only that, Patrick is so friendly that you’d get free things everywhere you go. From trinkets at a stall down at the Camden Markets from the cute little old lady, being the tester of a tasty new cocktail at the Mexican restaurant you ate lunch at from the owner himself, and a bouquet of flowers from a florist after he once again tells them you are his fiancée — Patrick just charms his way through life. 

So around him, you think you are becoming your better self too. 

On the second day, you take a day trip to Bath. Patrick drives and you’re his guide because his grandfather’s car doesn’t have GPS. You’d think two hours in a stuffy car with him would drive both of you mad. But surprisingly, you two work well together as a team and the conversations flow freely. 

Everywhere you went, Patrick would be your photographer — he insists . It’s hilarious watching him take pictures of you from every angle — laying on his back, jumping for an action shot, squatting while one leg is stretched out. At first it embarrassed you but with every compliment he throws your way, you find yourself posing and having fun with it. 

London is paid actor, but you are definitely the star of the show, Patrick fawned after going through his camera roll and showing you the pictures. You laugh off the butterflies in your stomach, but keep the pictures on your phone of the ones of the two of you together. 

That’s Zweats?!?! Ayo asked when you drop the pictures in the groupchat . Oh no he’s hot! 

Scrumptiously hot , Simone agreed. 

See! Lesbians have the best taste in men! Chappel jokes, but she’s serious. 

Sabrina just sends an eye roll emoji, but you know she’s reluctantly agreeing. Even she can’t deny that Zweaty Zweig looks hot with his scruff. 

Your friends say they can see the chemistry between the two of you. Still you insist that you and Patrick are just friends. Even if on the third day, Patrick takes you home to meet his grandparents on his father’s side and some of his other extended family members for his niece’s 8th birthday party. 

It’s no big deal. 

Though it goes without saying, his family adores you. You noticed Patrick’s little grin whenever they accidentally surmised that you two are dating, and that he takes a little bit too long to correct them. 

By the end of the night, his grandmother pulled you aside, saying she desperately hoped that you two would become more than friends. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to deter her hopes — because, well, one, it’s his grandmother. But also because when you glanced towards Patrick and saw him playing with all the kids at the party so joyfully, a small part of you agreed with her. Especially when he must have felt your eyes on him and turned to glance your way, the gorgeous smile on his face brightened even more. 

But that small part of you that agreed with her was just a very, teeny, tiny fleeting thought. 

You can’t possibly have a crush on Patrick. You refuse . 

Then why on this morning on your last day in London, you are getting ready so diligently — your make-up is almost perfectly done, you spent an hour trying on a million outfits to look the cutest, and you shaved, everywhere — even though the plan for today is just brunch and a chill day at the park.

You put down your eyeliner, deciding not to put on your signature sultry smokey eye as you chastise yourself. 

Not only is it weird because he is — or was — your first love’s best friend; but it is also way too soon . Your poor heart can’t handle it if anything goes wrong. Even if it is just a summer fling. 

So you finish off your makeup with just a swipe of mascara and a tinted lip balm, and then you’re off to spend this one last day with Patrick.

The swallow down how the thought of that makes you so incredibly sad. 

----

Brunch at the small mom and pop restaurant that Patrick loves was extremely delicious. Wanting to try their best seller, you shared the French toast and eggs Benedict with him. Of course they know and love him there, so the whole meal was on the house despite your protest. 

Hyde Park is the next stop. 

The two of you walk side-by-side; and every once in a while, the back of your hands would graze. There is a part of you that’s itching to just hold his hand. But you don’t. 

You have no idea, but Patrick is thinking the same. 

The two of you end up at the tennis court. Patrick stares at it longingly, so you make up your mind and grab his hand, pulling him towards the gates. 

Patrick had told you he was in a slump. That before this little vacation, he had fired his coach and was basically on hiatus from competitions and even training. You can tell he misses it so much by the way he talks about it, so you rent racquets and balls at the booth. 

“Are you ready to go down, Zweig?” You ask with a too cocky grin for someone who hasn’t held a racquet in literal years. 

You’re not particularly great at tennis, but back in high school, you could hold your own to help Art practice. Art always said you had great form, it’s just your execution that could use some work. If you had trained more seriously, you could have possibly competed. All that confidence boost that Art gave you always crumbled whenever you faced off Patrick. Even though he didn’t take you seriously, he still wiped the tennis court with you while not even playing at 50%. Asshole. 

“I seem to recall that you failed to beat me even once, ____,” he calls out, smirking once again, his eyes squinted because of the sun. He has now copied you by only calling you by your last name, which is exactly how the two of you addressed each other back in boarding school.

“ Asshole ,” you say out loud this time, completely unserious of course, causing Patrick to laugh. 

Patrick allows you to serve first. And by allow, you mean that the two of you played rock-paper-scissors to decide and you saw him purposely switch his rock last second to paper when you threw out scissors. You’re not even sure this advantage will help you but you feign confidence that you will win. 

Walking towards the right side of the baseline on your side of the court, you bounce the tennis ball in your hand a couple times on the ground to get used to it. When you reach your destination, you turn back around to see Patrick squatting, stretching from side to side to get ready for your serve. You try not to ogle at the way the muscles on his legs strain, but it’s hard not to. They look so strong and capable — like if he were to slide his thigh between your legs, they’d definitely be capable to strongly make you —

Patrick clears his throat loudly, causing you to swiftly tear your eyes away from his delicious legs to glance up at his face. 

He is snickering blatantly and giving you a look that says he caught you checking him out. Your face heats, completely flustered and internally swearing at yourself for being so weak to his sex appeal. You blame your dry spell, it’s definitely not solely because of him.

Taking a deep inhale, you shake away everything, centering yourself to focus on your first serve. You could do a totally normal (and boring) serve but you’re trying to live life on the edge lately. Try new things. And so, after exhaling slowly, you open your eyes, meeting Patrick’s gaze. Then with your own cocky smirk that matches his, you toss the ball up into the sky, jump, and then —

TWACK!

The ball zips right past Patrick, almost grazing his ear. With widening eyes, he whips his head to look back, just in time to see ball land — and in the service box, meaning you scored the first point. Patrick turns back to look at you, his jaw dropped.

Seeing Patrick’s astonished expression, you simultaneously shrug and tilt your head in a smug manner. Though inside, you are as shocked as him. 

A gorgeous and delighted smile breaks on his face, and he exclaims in awe, “You truly are breathtaking, aren’t you?”

Although he renders you speechless with his pretty face and his compliment towards you, your heart soars. 

---

It seems that that perfect serve was just beginner’s (novice’s?) luck, because after that, Patrick once again wipes the tennis court with you. You lose without winning a single set.  

But what truly matters is that Patrick was genuinely enjoying himself. You might not be the most challenging competitor, but he was laughing and smiling the entire time so that’s a win in your book.

After the game, he tosses you a clean towel that he bums from one of the other players on the court (again, that charm of his is lethal). While you wipe away the sweat on your face and body, Patrick douses himself with water from a bottle he got from a vending machine nearby. 

“That was fun!” Patrick says, and you can tell he means it. You grin, humming in agreement. 

You hand him the towel once you are done, and while he wipes himself, he asks, “What do you wanna do now?”

“Dunno, what do you wanna do?” You ask back, unhelpful as you check your cell phone. During the time you were playing tennis, you received quite a few messages… And an email that makes your stomach drop in dread. 

“ Fuck… ” you murmur under your breath as you read through it.

Patrick halts his movement; his gaze intently on you, concerned. “You good?”

Swallowing the lump on your throat, you force yourself to meet his gaze. Sheepishly, you ask, “Do you… perhaps… have a suit and tie?”

---

Of course out of all the reservations you would forget to cancel, it’s the fine dining restaurant that doesn’t allow for refunds on the $400 deposit 48 hours before the reservation.

Complete dumbass behavior.

“It’s cool, it’s fine,” you tell yourself as you stare at your reflection in the mirror of the hotel elevator you are on. Flattening a hand on the midi length cream linen dress you had bought earlier that afternoon after parting ways with Patrick, you repeat what you had just said, trying to convince yourself that everything is cool and fine.

But everything is not cool and fine.

This reservation is just another reminder that everything in your life has gone to shit. 

You take a deep inhale, quickly dabbing your eyes before the tears fall and ruin your perfectly applied makeup. 

The elevator dings and the door opens. With one last look in the mirror, you fake a smile to yourself before stepping off. Walking towards the entrance of the hotel lobby, you find Patrick already there, waiting for you. 

At the sight of him coolly leaning on a post — looking extremely handsome in his suit and tie — has electricity tingling down your spine, causing you to straighten up your posture. For some strange reason, you are feeling infinitely better now that he is nearby.

The clicking of your heels on the marble floor makes Patrick’s head turn towards you. Taking you in from head to toe, his mouth parts softly. His reaction is a little delayed when you are stood in front of him and say a gentle hello, but he straightens just like you had when you saw him, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks. 

“Hey! you look— uh..” he clears his throat and wets his lips, his heavy-lidded eyes roam your figure again before ending with breathed out, “... good .”

You bite down your lip, biting back a smirk. “Thanks…” You glance over him, noticing that him wearing formal wear wasn’t the only change, “Whoa! You shaved!”

Patrick rubs his fingers against his newly smooth jaw. “Yeah, well, I figured since we’re going somewhere where I have to wear some fancy shit, I should clean up a bit too.”

“You look good,” You tell him, which visibly lights him up. “I mean, you look hot with the beard as well, not even gonna lie.”

You wince at the words that just came out of your mouth while he just snorts, amused by your admission. “Noted.”

To not dwell in the awkwardness, you tilt your head towards the door. “Let’s go?”

---

Patrick steps out of the taxi before you do, holding out his hand for you to take to assist you out of the car. 

“Thank you,” You coyly smile towards him once your feet are solid on the sidewalk, squeezing his hand before letting go. Then you stare straight ahead at the restaurant the taxi dropped you in front of, anxiousness starts to bubble up in your stomach.

“You alright?” Patrick questions as he stands by your side, observant as always.

You smile and nod, though neither were very convincing. 

Patrick does not press any further. It’s obvious you are dealing with something. Because why else do you have a two-person reservation for one of the most expensive restaurants in the whole UK — one that is always booked and if you want a table, you’ll have to reserve one about eight months in advance — and yet you are traveling all alone?

But he won’t question it out loud. He’ll let you tell him yourself whenever you are ready. Even if you’re never ready, he won’t hold that against you. He’ll just silently support you with whatever you need. Like a good friend would do. 

You let out a shaky exhale, then a second later, you groan. Before Patrick can even ask, you turn to him with a frown. “Dude, I totally forgot to brush my teeth.”

Without a second of hesitation, Patrick bends down towards you and sniffs. You push him away, laughing and exclaiming your bewilderment of his action. 

“Smells fine to me,” he tells you with a shrug. You scowl childishly, and Patrick grins faintly, unable to help himself from finding it adorable.

“I smell like the coffee and bacon we ate this morning,” you tell him, clearly unhappy. 

Patrick’s eyes shift, confused. “… so?”

“Zweig,” you start with a heavy sigh, about to lay it down for him, “We’re going to a three Michelin star restaurant that the Anthony Bourdain said is his most favorite in all of London, it’s embarrassing to walk in smelling like coffee and bacon!”

“Well, I think you smell nice. You always do.”

“ Thanks , Zweig.” Though your eyes roll, your heart skips a beat. “But that doesn’t fix the matter at hand!” 

Patrick regards you for a long second, realizing how truly stressed you are, before he sighs and pulls something out of his back pocket. With his brown leather wallet in his hands, he opens it up and peers inside, mouth pursing to the side as if contemplating. It takes him a bit to make up his mind, but you don’t notice. Then finally deciding, he takes something out and presents it to you from in between his fingers. 

“Here.”

You go a bit cross-eyed trying to figure out what he is showing you, but when you take it in, your eyes light up and you smile wide. Excitedly, you thank him as you unwrap the foil from the Trident gum, popping it in your mouth. But with every chew, your happy mood starts to turn sour. 

You pull a face of disgust, turning to Patrick, “How old is this?”

Sheepishly, Patrick scratches his chin. “Like… a few months — years —old…” 

“Zweig?!” You call out, completely gobsmacked.

In an instant, he holds his palms out under your chin. Without any further instruction, you spit the years old gum onto his hand. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes. If it weren’t for how he giggles right after — actually giggles, like his shoulders lifting up and down giggles — you would have been a bit more peeved. But the cuteness gets to you, softening you up, so you just grumble it’s fine under your breath. 

Then, once again, Patrick bends down to sniff you. 

“Patrick, I swear to—”

“Hey, it worked!” He exclaims, grinning. “Your breath smells minty fresh .”

While side-eyeing him, you lift a hand up, cupping it over your mouth as you breathe out. 

Damn it, he’s right.

Slowly lowering your hand, you glare at him with no heat. 

Patrick chuckles, nose scrunching. Then he holds out his hand for you — the one you hadn’t spat the gum into, smiling so prettily. “You ready?”

You sigh dramatically with a tight smile of your own, clasping your hand with his. “I suppose.”

With a soft gaze and even softer smile, Patrick squeezes your hand three times in reassurance, before he leads you into the restaurant.

---

You were promptly seated as soon as you showed off your reservation to the hostess. You suppose that is one of the many perks of dining at such a highly regarded restaurant. Plus you are sure that they are on a very tight and rigorous schedule since they are always fully booked — every second counts.

You are still quite anxious; but Patrick’s goofy, child-like grin as he glances around in pure wonderment makes you a little less so.

“Okay, can I ask?” Patrick begins, and you nod while taking a sip of water. “How’d you get a reservation for this place?”

Placing the very expensive looking crystalline glass gently back on the table, you open your mouth, about to answer, when—

“Ah, well if it isn’t the newlyweds!” A smartly dressed bald older man with thick-rimmed glasses enthuses as he walks up to the table. Clasping his hands together, he smiles amicably at both you and Patrick. “Mr. and Mrs. Turner, my name is Stanley, and it is my pleasure to serve such a beautiful couple this evening.”

With every word he uttered, you sink further and further down your seat, your most horrible nightmare coming true. You completely forgot that you booked these reservations with a note stating that it is your honeymoon and that it is a special surprise for your future husband. All that was completely true at the time, but now… Now it is all just a heartbreaking reminder of that story ending sadly.

“ Actually… that’s my, uh…. mother’s maiden name…” Your eyes widened, lifting to meet Patrick’s gaze. There is a silent question in his eyes – is this okay? — and you nod lightly, so he continues, “We’re actually, the, um , oh–” Patrick’s eyes shift, ears picking up a waiter murmuring to another that’s for that table at the corner, “---Corner?”

Stanley tips his head to the side and repeats to make sure he heard right, “O’Connor?”

“Yes!” Patrick points at him, nodding enthusiastically , “O’Connor, exactly!” He turns to you and smiles proudly, “Right? That’s a good name!”

There are tears in your eyes, but it wasn’t from sadness. It’s all because of Patrick’s goofiness. He has you laughing and nodding along with him.

“I’m so terribly sorry for the mistake,” Stanley apologizes.

“No, no! It’s my fault!” You assure quickly. “I was just so excited that I got a hold of a table that I typed out the wrong name on the reservation! Please don’t blame yourself!”

“Well,” Stanley placed a hand over his chest, “I truly appreciate that, Mrs. O’Connor. But as an apology, and also to celebrate you two, all of the wine pairings will be on us this evening.”

Patrick throws a giddy grin your way with a wink, and from underneath the table, he places a hand on your knee, squeezing gently. 

Warmth spreads all over you and your heart starts to race. A not so fleeting thought of kissing him crosses your mind right there and then. 

---

The fifteen-course fine dining experience was phenomenal. 

But you’re not sure if the $1000 price point is worth it, or it just feels worth it because of your company. 

The whole night, Patrick made you laugh like some lovesick school girl with a crush and made you smile until your cheeks started to hurt from doing so. 

At some point during the evening, pretending to be newlyweds came so naturally for both you and Patrick.  Like how you’d feed each other without it being cringy. Or he’d finish anything you didn’t clean off. Laughing together while doing all this like two best friends who are also a couple. 

There were even moments where Patrick would reach out to hold your hand, and other times you would walk your fingers into his open palm to rest your hand over his. He would look your way and smile tenderly, and you are sure you were looking at him the same way. 

To anyone else in the restaurant, like Stanley, you really looked like two people who are madly in love.

Which is so strange to you looking back now that the wine buzz has died down and you are almost fully sober. Because after being served your first dish, there really was no point in all that. It makes a mess in your head that you go completely nonverbal from overthinking during the walk back to your hotel. 

It is only when you feel something being draped over your shoulders that you snap out of it. Glancing at it, you realize it’s Patrick’s blazer. You also notice that your skin has goosebumps from the chill air and you have been shivering. 

“Thank you,” you tell him softly, pulling the blazer around you more properly. 

Hunched with his hands stuffed in his pockets, Patrick shakes his head as if to say no worries. 

You both share a smile, letting the moment sit for a bit while the two of you continue to walk side by side. Subconsciously, you drift closer together, sides grazing with every step you take. You didn’t mind once you notice; the heat of his body feels pleasant against yours. 

“ So…” Patrick drags out a couple minutes later, flicking his gaze toward you. “I want to thank you.”

You wave your hand flippantly. “It’s all good. The whole thing was already paid for so don’t even think about trying to pay me back. I won’t accept it because I pretty much forced you to go.”

“No, it’s not about that,” he says, shaking his head. Quickly, he adds, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m obviously grateful for tonight! That whole experience was fucking amazing !” 

“You’re good, Zweig,” You assure with a laugh, playfully elbowing him. Then your brows draw closer together, questioning, “So why are you thanking me then?”

“For this morning.”

You look even more confused now, so he clarifies, “For getting me back onto the court.” 

After you make a sound of comprehension, Patrick continues, “I’ve been so… apprehensive about playing again…” He pauses, frowning, “I actually thought about quitting altogether. It’s just… I lost so much because of it, you know?” You don’t know, but from the sound of his voice, your heart breaks for him anyway, “But playing again today…” The worry lines on his face start to soften as he breaks into a smile, his head tipping up to the sky like he is going to be okay, “I felt it again… That feeling that I felt when I first started playing tennis — the reason I started playing so much. It’s like this… rush , that takes over your whole body. Everything feels like it’s on fire — in a good way! It’s even better than any drug I’ve ever tried… And I haven’t felt it in a while…” He looks over at you, grinning fondly, “Until today.”

A giddy feeling dancing inside you as you smile back at him. Then coolly, you shrug your shoulders. “What can I say? I’ve been known to have the magic touch .”

“Do you, now?” Patrick asks with a sleazy smirk.

“Okay, Zweig,” you retort with a roll of your eyes. But you laugh right after, hooking your arm around his before slipping your fingers through his. You squeeze his hand and he squeezes right back as you tell him, “I’m happy for you. I’ve always thought you were phenomenal on the court… every time I watched you play, I was like ‘this must be like witnessing Leonardo da Vinci paint the Mona Lisa’.” 

He laughs, carefree and happy. “Yeah?”

“ Mhm, ” You hum, nodding adorably at him that it makes him hold your hand tighter.

“I’m going to start up training again next week. Find myself a new coach… I’ve even already signed up for a tournament next month in Atlanta.”

You squeeze his hand again, smiling proudly up at him. “That’s amazing, Patrick.”

For a moment, it’s quiet again. Comfortable. But you were also thinking about how you also want to confess something to him, to be honest and appreciative of what his company for the last week has brought you. 

“I also want to thank you,” you begin, a little nervous. “For tonight, for the past week, and especially for not, you know, asking about that whole—“ “ you let out a shaky exhale, “— newlyweds thing.”

“I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would,” Patrick says, just as the two of you make it to the side of your hotel, where a beautiful fountain sits surrounded by a hedge garden and a few metal benches. 

Stepping towards the fountain, you slip your hand out of Patrick’s grasp, choosing instead to wrap your arms around yourself, preparing to be vulnerable. 

“The reservation was a surprise for Callum — my ex,” you start, already know that the tears are about to come. “He’s a big foodie. So when he saw the list that Anthony Bourdain put out, and that restaurant was at the top of it, it was all he could talk about…” You tell him, voice wavering with every word you spoke, becoming softer and softer. “If you haven’t already guessed, this whole Europe trip was supposed to be our honeymoon.”

Standing by your side, Patrick cautiously murmurs his next question, “What happened?”

“Umm… well… ”  you press your lips together and you try to blink away the tears. “He decided he actually wasn’t ready to be married. And that although he loves me, he wasn’t in love with me anymore… He surprised me with all of this the night before the wedding.”

“Holy shit,” Patrick blurts out, fuming. “What a fucking loser.”

With a half-hearted, self-deprecating grin; you try to make a joke, “At least he had the decency to not leave me at the altar.” 

“Well, it’s his loss,” Patrick declares, like it’s a fact and not just his opinion. 

Glancing down, you find your hands shaking, so you clasp them together. A heavy weight of sadness fills you suddenly as you think about what Patrick just said. 

“Is it really his loss, though? He seems to be doing just fine,” You mutter with a quivering frown. Although you promised your friends that you had stopped stalking Callum’s social media, it is a bold face lie. You still check regularly even though you always find things that make you miserable. He is happy, that is for sure — he even has a new girlfriend. “He’s moved on pretty quickly… Maybe I’m…” you sigh, “... maybe it’s really that easy to fall out of love with me. And forget me. And maybe I’m just so undesirable, that it’s easy to find someone better—”

“Don’t say that,” Patrick tries to stop you, but you are already deep in your self-loathing.

“But it’s true, Patrick,” you insist, glancing up at him, only to find him already looking at you. The hurt on his face startles you, like it pains him to hear you talking about yourself like this. 

“It’s not,” Patrick assures gently with a slow shake of his head. “Believe me, none of that is true.”

“Even Art ghosted me—”

“Art is an absolute idiot,” Patrick cuts you off, absolutely fired up. “I love the guy, but he can be a real fucking dumbass sometimes.” 

That makes you laugh a little.

Patrick then turns his whole body towards you, a serious expression on his handsome features. So you turn towards him as well because it seems like the only thing to do. But you pull his blazer even tighter around you, like a protective shield. You have a feeling he is going to lay down some harsh truths that you need to hear. 

“Look, it might not mean much — or anything at all — coming from me…” Patrick trails off, licking his lips, looking like he is debating whether he should even say anything at all. You wince — here it comes… “But you’re really fucking hot. Like, incredibly sexy.”

Oh!

Nevermind. You hadn’t expected to hear that . But it’s a pleasant surprise.

“Listen, I know that might be the last thing you want to hear right now, but I just have to say it. You’re the opposite of undesirable. This whole week, everywhere we went, I was mean mugging motherfuckers left and right cause they kept checking you out! And, it’s not just your looks — you're hilarious, and brilliant and—“ As Patrick rambles on, singing your praises, a strange kind of elation glows inside you as your eyes water — happy tears this time. “And do you even know how much I’ve been wanting to kiss you this entire week?! Every laugh and every smile you aimed my way had me going crazy!”

Suddenly, Patrick freezes, then lets out a quiet curse, hanging his head. He hadn’t meant to confess that out loud, it just sorta came out. 

“Really?” He hears you ask. Slowly, he lifts his gaze, afraid that he ruined everything with his stupid mouth. 

But what he sees has his heart racing. He locks onto your eyes, which are bright yet also apprehensive. The way the moon illuminates causes the water on the fountain to bathe a languid dancing light on you, making you appear quite ethereal.

Your beauty has him going speechless, so he can only nod his answer, his mouth hanging dumbly.

Patrick does. He really, really does want to kiss you. It’s all he has been thinking about this entire night — and many other times this past few days. 

“So why haven’t you?” You innocently (yet, not so innocently) ask, lashes fluttering prettily. 

Patrick shrugs, but he knows exactly why.

“I’m being a really bad friend right now.”

Your head tilts as your brows furrow together in confusion. “To who?”

The question has Patrick thinking of a boy with blond curls and heterochromia eyes, his best friend, declaring that you are the love of his life. But then he thinks about these past three years, how awfully alone he had been. Lost as well. Feeling like he had been through hell and back. Yet somehow, you manage to pull him through those dark times with just a bright smile.

Like the smile you have for him now. 

All thoughts of Art disappear to the back of his mind, cause all he really wants at this moment is to finally kiss you.

Patrick wets his lips as his eyes search your face, lifting his hand to softly caress it, completely enthralled by you. 

Holding your breath in anticipation and your heart beat thundering in your chest, you watch him inching slowly closer and closer towards you —

But then he stops, hesitating. He stares at your mouth, takes an audible swallow, and stares, and stares—

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Zweig,” you huff out before grabbing the front of his crisp, white button-up and pull him down towards you so you can smash your mouth onto his. 

Is this a momentary lapse of judgment or the best thing you’ve ever done for yourself? 

Could this break your heart even more or bring it back to life?

Patrick kisses you deeper with a satisfied hum, smiling against your lips, and you find yourself not caring about the answers anymore.

It’s been a while since you’ve kissed someone new, but there is no doubt about it, Patrick is the best kisser out of all the people you’ve ever kissed. He just puts his whole heart into it and knows exactly what he is doing. Every pass of his mouth against yours has you in bliss. 

Raising your arms up to wrap it around his neck, his blazer slips from your shoulders. But even without parting from your lips, Patrick catches it with his fast reflexes. It makes you both break away, glancing at the article of clothing, mouth dropping in awe at the same time. Even Patrick couldn’t believe he had just done that. Then you are both laughing, foreheads pressing together.

After the laughter dies down, his mouth is on you again, kissing you all over — again and again and again. Patrick leaves a kiss for all the times he had wanted to this past week. He must have left a million butterfly kisses all over your face, and you giggle with each one.

Perhaps you should stop it here, with just the kissing. You’re not usually one to do anything too fast or drastic. Your types are usually calm, level-headed men who wait until the third date to even hold your hand — like Art and Callum. You’ve never been with anyone who makes your heart beat so fast quite like this, who makes everything feel like it is an adrenaline rush. Someone who coolly goes with the flow, yet can be so reckless, and passionate with everything he does. 

It’s a bit frightening, especially with your heart still so fragile…

But you think Patrick is a risk worth taking.

You elude his next kiss, and he pouts adorably.

With a shake of your head, you laugh before asking, “Do you want to come up to my room?”

Patrick lights up like he had won the entire Grand Slam — and maybe, to him, this is better than that.

----

Somehow, Patrick manages to keep his hands off you until you make it to your hotel room. Even he doesn’t know how he did it.

(He did squeeze your ass on the way out of the elevator. But other than that, he was a good boy.)

Though once the door closes behind the two of you, Patrick is on you like his life depends on it.

Patrick’s sweetness outside by the fountain is replaced by a blazing passion, and you don’t mind one bit.

His mouth is hot on your lips, along your jaw, and down your neck. Messy and devouring. His hands are grasping every curve, touching you in all the ways you’ve been craving to be touched. 

You had not even realized how touch starved you are until this very moment. Every brush of Patrick’s heated skin against yours has you gasping and mewling, has you dripping between your thighs.  

Clothes are discarded one by one with every hurried step towards the big king sized bed. By the time Patrick falls down on the bed first, you are both down to just your underwear. 

As he shuffles back on the bed in a sitting position, Patrick regards you as he heavily breathes from his parted mouth. You heat up from his fervent gaze, something about the look in his eyes has you feeling like you are a goddess. 

And he’s not built like no ordinary man either. His body is immaculate — beautiful and strong. If you had not known that he had taken a temporary break from training, you would have guessed that he was still at the gym and the tennis court daily.

You cannot help but to reach out and touch him, desiring to kiss every freckle on his tanned skin.

Patrick’s lips quirks up at the corner when he observes your starry eyed gaze while you feel the hard lines of his abs with your fingertips. 

Needing you closer, Patrick grabs your waist, pulling you to kneel between his legs.

“Knew you weren’t wearing a bra,” Patrick drawls with his signature sleazy smirk.

Eyes rolling, you hold onto his shoulder as you move towards him. “And I had feeling you were staring at my boobs the entire—”

A shuddering moan falls out of your mouth, unable to continue speaking because Patrick wrapped his mouth around your nipple, sucking and laving his tongue around it until it’s slick with his saliva and pebbled hard.

Noticing how you are moving your hips, needing friction but all you are met with is air, Patrick pops away from your chest with a wet smack. He grabs your left upper thigh, lifting it slightly so he can slide his right leg in between your legs. 

“And I noticed you drooling over my thighs the entire week. Especially when I wore my slutty, little shorts—”

“Did you really just call your little shorts slutty?” You ask, quite perplexed. Like, he’s not wrong at all — his shorts are slutty and you must admit you’ve drooled over his thighs on multiple occasions — but of course only Zweig would call his shorts that. 

Patrick smiles wide at your joyful giggles because of his ridiculousness. He loves it when he is able to make you laugh like this. 

With his large palm, he slaps your ass, causing you to stop laughing to yip and arch against him. You shoot a playful glare down at him, and he just smirks, grabbing your hips to push you down until your clothed cunt makes contact with the muscles on his thigh. 

Eyelids fluttering shut, you let out a shaky exhale. 

Fuck, his thigh feels as good as they look.

Patrick has a similar reaction, groaning when he feels you. “Fuck, you’re soaking.”

You stifle a moan by biting down on your lower lip, which makes Patrick tsk, wanting none of that. He wants to hear you unabashedly enjoying yourself. So he supposes he’ll just have to find a way to make you moan and scream without being able to stop or hold yourself back.

He begins to guide you, making you move back and forth along his thigh, causing your breathing to pick up as pleasure starts to build. 

It makes you mewl out Patrick’s name, begging him for more.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll give you everything that you want,” he murmurs low into your ear, making you shudder in delight. “Just ride that pretty pussy against my thigh, okay?”

When you answer with a nod and hum, Patrick murmurs a good girl before he tilts your head down with his thumb and finger around your chin to brush your lips together in a fleeting yet sweet kiss. Then he parts from your lips so he can glance down to watch the way your hips roll, his hungry stare heavy and his mouth parted in awe.

“So fucking sexy,” Patrick murmurs, gaze darkening. “Can’t believe little miss perfect is letting me see her act like such a whore, desperate for cock.” 

His words make your cunt pulse and throb. A whimper slipping from your lips. 

Patrick catches himself, pulling back.

“Sorry,” Patrick apologizes, brows drawing together. He caresses gently up and down your waist while he searches your expression for anything amiss, “Was that too much?”

“No–” You hurriedly shake your head. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah?” Patrick asks once more, just to make sure.

Shyly, you nod. 

It is a bit different for you, that’s for sure. You’ve never been degraded while having sex before. Your partners usually err on the side of vanilla — which isn’t bad at all! — but you have a feeling that Patrick isn’t like that, and you want whatever he wants to give you… 

Plus you realize it’s hot as hell. Especially when it’s Patrick saying those things to you. 

“I like it,” you tell him, soft and sweet, hands wrapping around his neck, your fingers playing with the hair at the base. “I like it cause it’s you.”

At that adorable admission, Patrick grins, his heart soaring, and captures your mouth in another passionate kiss. With your lips locked with his, you began to move faster and grind down harder. With every rocking motion forward, your clit drags against the cotton of your panties, making your pussy leak slick and soak through the material. 

A punched out groan leaves Patrick’s throat, feeling just how wet you’ve become. “Such a good, wet slut for me… Yeah, keep going, babe — just like that.”

While you continue to ride his thigh harder and harder, Patrick moves onto your neglected nipple, taking his time with it like how he did with the first one. You let out a long shuddering moan, hands scrambling, one digging your nails down into his shoulder and the other fisting into his curls. 

Slipping a hand between your bodies, Patrick slips your underwear to the side to press his thumb to rub lazy circles around your clit.  

“Patrick, please —- oh, fuck…! I’m gonna cum—“

Bucking up his hardened erection still straining in the confines of his boxer, Patrick hums, pleased at how vocal you’ve gotten. He is kissing and sucking and biting on your breast for a few more moments, then mouths hot and messily up along your chest and neck. When he reaches your ear, he harshly whispers his command, “Then cum.”

His voice lowering deeper and huskily was all you needed to do exactly as he says, your thighs tensing around his as waves and waves of ecstasy floods through you.

Patrick leans back, hand gingerly wrapping around your throat to watch your face as you come undone for him — because of him. 

“There you go,” he coos with a smug grin, his heart — and cock — swelling with pride that he is able to make you come so beautifully. “That’s it, baby. Fuck, you’re beautiful. ”

Face dropping into the crook of Patrick’s shoulder, you try to catch your breath as you start to come down from your high. Patrick rubs his hand up and down your back in a comforting way while your body shudders every once in a while from the aftermath.

“Oh, God…” you huff out with a giggle, leaving your hiding spot to look at him, “If you can make me come that hard with just your thigh… How am I gonna survive on your dick?”

Patrick laughs — then he turns serious. 

“Do you want to find out…?” Patrick asks, an eyebrow rising, imploringly. 

He tries to be cool about it, but in his mind, he is begging — pleasepleaseplease.

Your lips break into a grin, nodding enthusiastically.

At that, Patrick lets out a sigh of relief, murmuring a soft yes as he holds his fist up in victory. His reaction makes you laugh but Patrick cuts it off with another heated kiss, his skilled hands roaming your body, has your back arching with every touch. 

Every time Patrick tries to pull away from you because he has something he needs to look for, it’s he himself who keeps going back for more, unable to stop himself from kissing you. But his cock is aching for you, so he knew he had to do the hardest thing he’s ever had to do and force himself to pry away from you.  

The way you whined and pouted adorably when he moves almost makes him cave to just go back to kissing you again. But he stays strong, keeping his hand on your leg as he glances around the room, trying to remember where he had put it…

His pants were the last thing to come off, so it should be just laying in a heap beside the bed. He dives onto his stomach to make a grab for it, taking his wallet out to hurriedly scrounge through.

“ Shit …” Patrick whines, thumping his wallet on his forehead as he squeezes his eyes shut, internally reprimanding himself. He heaves a heavy sigh and laments, “I gave my condoms away to those people at the London Eye booth.”

His tone is numb and monotone because he is regretting everything. This is going to ruin the world tour. The world tour being your sweet pussy — which is now canceled without the condoms.

“ Huh? ” You must have heard him wrong, because what? “You gave the condoms to who ?”

“... The workers at the London Eye booth, to get us on…” Patrick mumbles.

Hands in his face, he groans, and he can hear you giggling at his misery. 

“Patrick.”

At the call of his name, he glances towards you —  inhaling sharply when his eyes connect with yours.  

You were a vision. A breathtaking beauty. 

Pretty face, kiss swollen lips, bite marks and bruises all over neck and chest from his doing, and the slickness between your thighs, dripping down your legs…

Patrick can hardly believe that this is real. It has to be a dream, right? 

“It’s okay,” you tell him with an alluring smile, “We don’t need a condom.”

Oh, he definitely has to be dreaming.

So Patrick pinches his forearm to make sure — only to curse out at the sting of his own doing. 

He’s awake, thank fucking god he’s awake. His eyes drift up above in thanks.

You laugh, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. Then you beckon him to come closer with your fingers. He takes a hard swallow and follows like a good boy.

Keeping your eyes on him, you lay back slowly on your elbows, lifting your hips off the bed so you can shimmy your panties down your legs sensually. 

Patrick watches the whole show with his mouth agape, drooling at the sight.

Pointing your toes towards him, your pretty little underwear dangles around your foot. And like a ravenous beast, Patrick clambers forwards to grab it. Without breaking eye contact, he brings it up to his face, and inhales deeply. A pleased, low groan vibrates his throat. The pungent scent of you makes him harder, which he did not know was even possible considering how fucking hard he already is. 

Patrick whips the balled up piece of ruined fabric to the side, and then he is on you, mouthing heatedly up your legs. He starts from the tip of your toes and moves up all the way to your knees, kissing the knobs sweetly, before dragging his mouth up, biting your inner thighs and licking up the mess of you that had dripped down earlier.

He tries to take as much time as he can to worship you like you deserve, but his patience is running thin.

“Oh!” You exclaim, throwing your head back at the first slide of his tongue between your folds. He eats you out like a man starved; rotating between sucking on your clit, mouthing hotly and making out with your pussy, and pushing his tongue inside you. Everything he is doing has you going crazy, you grip hair with one hand while the other grabs onto your chest.

“ Delicious . Fucking delectable ,” Patrick murmurs against your cunt, the vibration his words and heat of his breath sends you in a frenzy. That, along his beautiful nose bumping against your clit with every glide of his tongue inside you, has your hips moving, unable to help yourself from riding his face.

“C’mon, baby,” Patrick coaxes as he presses two of his fingers inside you, scissoring them apart to prepare you for something bigger. “Give me another one.”

Every thrust of his fingers is amplified with a wet schlick sound. It would have embarrassed you if it didn’t feel so good. 

You fall apart with a sweet mewl of his name, pussy gushing slick as you clamp down on his fingers. Patrick groans, continuing to rub the tips of his fingers against the spongy spot inside you, while his tongue licks you clean. 

“Holy fuck,” he pants out, crawling up, his mouth leaving tender kisses on your body — your stomach, your sternum, your chest and your neck — it has you feeling so elated. Adored. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

Reaching up to wrap a hand on the back of his neck, you pull him in for a fiery kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

Unable to wait any longer, your other hand tucks itself underneath the waistband of his boxer to grab a hold of his aching cock. Your touch has him moaning and shuddering, bucking his hips towards you as you begin to jerk him off. 

“I can’t—” Patrick grits out, gently swatting your hand away so he can hastily push his boxers down and kick them away, “--- Can’t cum like this — I need to be inside you.”

Patrick’s desperation for you has you keening for the same thing, opening your thighs wide, allowing him to settle in between them. Patrick watches hungrily with his hand wrapped around his cock — his thumb spreading the precum that has collected at the tip — as you slip your hand down, presenting your cunt for him, two fingers on your lips to spread them apart. 

Patrick keeps his eyes on you, mouth hanging open, as he strokes himself. Every time he pulls at his cock, the muscles on his arm flexes, causing a thick drip of your arousal to slide down deliciously for him. He is beguiled, watching the drip until it disappears along the cleft of your ass.  

His cock is huge , that much you already knew by how it looked inside his boxer earlier, but it’s so pretty as well. 

Is that strange? Calling someone’s dick pretty? But that’s the only way you can describe it — pretty, with its pulsing veins and slight curve.

Though it’s not only his cock that’s pretty, it’s also his… Everything.

Patrick is so beautiful, you think, admiring his tanned skin that glistens with sweat. In the back of your mind, you laugh, wondering what your best friends would think if you told them how sexy you find the sweating and the way he smells. A certain blonde will definitely call you crazy — but you don’t care… 

You want Patrick Zweig so badly.

Fluttering your lashes at him, you ask softly, “Can you fuck me now?”

With a dirty grin, Patrick nods.

Because who is he to refuse such a sweet request from the prettiest girl?

Patrick bends over, pressing a palm on the mattress just beside you to hold himself up, while the other lines himself up to your entrance, running the head of his cock up and down your slit until the both of you are panting with need.

He smacks his cock against your clit, causing you to whimper, before he uses his thumb to press his cock down until the head slides into your opening. Groaning at how incredibly tight and good you feel, Patrick sinks inch by inch into you — slowly, as to not hurt you by the sheer size of him. 

“Just a little more,” Patrick promises, pressing his lips on the tension between your brows. “You can take a little more, I know you can, baby.”

At his gentle encouragement, you suck in a breath, willing yourself to relax so you can take more of his big cock. You hold onto him tightly, mewling in his ear as he thrusts his hips, picking up speed little by little, going deeper each time he ruts inside. He makes sure to praise you and kiss your beautiful body wherever his mouth can reach.

When he finally bottoms out — his hips flushed snugly against your — Patrick groans, feeling his cock squirt with a little precum inside you.

You surround him so wonderfully, it has Patrick in awe. It is like you are made for him

“Oh, pretty girl,” Patrick murmurs between messy kisses, letting you get used to the fullness of his cock deep inside you, “You like being filled by my cock?”

Slurring positively, the throbbing of his length has you dizzy with pleasure.

“ Aww… Are you a little cockdrunk right now?” He coos mockingly, fucking into you steadily, “You like being my good cockslut?” 

“ Uh huh, ” you admit easily, toes curling from the heat building up in your belly. 

Patrick chuckles fondly, before he kicks it up a notch, pounding into you with easy strokes that makes your eyes roll back.

You lose yourself in each other as he takes you apart with his cock and mouth. 

Your hands are everywhere on Patrick’s heated skin. Your nails bite and run lines down his back before you are grabbing his ass, pulling him closer to pound into your harder.

“I’m gonna cum,” Patrick warns hotly against your jaw, his sweat dripping on you every time his body rubs up against yours.

Moaning, you wrap your legs around him, locking him in. “Please, Patrick — please, come inside me . ”

“Oh, fuck, ” Patrick groans in disbelief at your wet eyes, pleading for him to fill you up. It makes him thrust harder, thrill and excitement shoot up his spine. “Needy girl wants to be filled up with my cum, that’s so fucking hot —” his thumb is back on your overstimulated clit, has you screaming his name, “Fuck, baby… I’ll fill you up, don’t worry — might even put a baby in you.”

At those words, your body arches, pussy clamping down on Patrick’s cock, gushing around him as you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids. 

Distantly, you hear Patrick moaning as he pumps his hips harder, burying himself deep inside you before he fills you rope after rope of his hot cum. 

Patrick stays inside you until he catches his breath, smiling so prettily when you finally open your eyes. Then he pulls out, both of you glancing down to watch his cum dripping out of you, giggling together at the sight of it. 

In the afterglow, Patrick kisses you sweetly while you wind down from high, praising you with every pass of lips against yours.

You fall asleep thinking this might be love.

----

Patrick wakes with a satisfied yawn, bleary eyes unable to open quite fully yet. Even though he isn’t fully conscious yet, he already knows he just had the best sleep of his life. 

It has been a while since he had such a good night’s rest, where he just feels light and blissful despite his internal clock waking him up at the ass crack of dawn due to years of doing so. 

The reason for this sudden change of Patrick’s usual mood could only be because of one thing — the gorgeous girl nestled comfortably by his side. 

With a sleepy growing smile, Patrick blinks down and finds you sleeping soundly, the side of your pretty face pressed onto his chest. With the arm wrapped around you, Patrick pulls you closer and presses a kiss on your forehead before reaching out his other arm to grab his phone off the bedside table. 

Just like he knew it would be, it’s just a little bit before 5 AM. More surprising though, his phone is lit up with quite a few new notifications. He checks his mother’s messages first, and quickly realizes that the others might be about the same news. 

Mom

— Hey hunny! I heard the wonderful news! I can’t believe Art is—

“ Engaged? ” Patrick murmurs out loud in disbelief. With his heart rate speeding up, he reads the rest of his mother’s texts. She said that Dianne — Art’s mother who she still keeps in touch with since they became friends when Art and Patrick did — told her that even though they’ve only been dating for a little over a year, Art knew Tashi Duncan is the one. Art had also given Tashi his grandmother’s ring. His mother gushed that the whole engagement was so romantic, judging by the pictures Dianne showed her. 

But you probably know all this! Are you going to be the best man? 

Right… His mother is still under the impression that he and Art are still best friends. She doesn’t even know that he used to date Tashi. All of which is entirely Patrick’s fault. He was completely ashamed to tell her what had happened and that they fell apart. 

Patrick is so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you stirring awake. It’s only when you groggily ask what time it is that he snaps out of it. 

“A little after 5 AM.”

You acknowledge that with a soft hum, then mostly to yourself, you murmur, “Check out’s at 10…” before dropping your head back down, blinking slow, about to fall asleep again. 

But just as sleep is about to take you, you drowsily question Patrick, “why are you awake so early?”

Patrick waves the phone in his hand. “Just checking my phone…” he glances down, gnawing on his lip as looks at the photos on the Facebook gallery he has opened. Then he tells you, “Art’s engaged.”

That wakes you up. Pushing up on your elbow, you lift yourself up slightly to show he has your attention, and so Patrick adds, “it happened just a few hours ago.”

“That’s… great?” You comment, unsure, because you can’t quite make out how Patrick is feeling about it. You, on the other hand, felt nothing about the news, surprisingly enough. You are genuinely happy for Art though, if anything. 

“Uh…” Patrick rubs the back of his neck, pursing his lips together. Then he just comes out with it, “Art’s fiancée is my ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh…” you sit up straighter towards him, your brows drawing closer together in concern, “Are you okay?”

Patrick takes his time to process it, quietly and quite deeply. You wait, unknowingly holding your breath. 

So this girl must be the reason Patrick and Art aren’t friends anymore. A small and insecure part of you wonders if she’s also the reason Art forgot about you. And if she is, where does that leave you with Patrick? Will she always be the one who got away?

But you shake those thoughts away quickly. At this moment, you need to be here for Patrick like he was there for you last night.

Patrick lifts his gaze from his hands to look at you — your lovely doe eyes are  set on him and the scent of your sweet perfume still surrounding him, all of it so comforting to him — and comes to a simple conclusion… 

Yes, he is okay. He can honestly say that he feels no ill will towards Art or Tashi. He didn’t feel bitter or jealous, either. 

And it’s because of you.

This past week with you has helped him heal and move on without him knowing — until this very moment. 

You make his heart feel light and content. You make him want to live in the moment and not dwell on the past.  

Cupping your face gently, a tender smile lifts his lips. “I’m more than okay.”

Because of the fond look in his eyes, something deep inside you tells you he means it. And so you lean towards him, kissing softly down the bridge of his pretty nose. Patrick hums like a pleased cat, nuzzling closer as his eyelids flutter shut.

When he feels your honeyed lips against his, Patrick knew there is another reason why he felt at peace with everything.

Is it too soon to say he loves you?

“What?”

Opening his eyes slowly, he is met with your face full of shock.

“ Oh, shit… ” Patrick breathes out heavily,  “Did I say that out loud?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you nod hastily.

Patrick feels panicked at his slipup, but also… not?

Saying it out loud — even though he had not meant to — felt so right.

Cautiously, Patrick asks, “Would you hate me… if I said… I meant it?”

This time, you gently shake your head, looking quite flustered as you suppress a smile. “No, of course not.”

Patrick’s heart starts to race, excitement flowing in his veins. “Yeah?” 

Then you move, straddling him. Patrick keeps his starry-eyed gaze on you as you make yourself comfortable on his lap, his hands finding home on your waists. 

“I would say…” you trail off, thumb caressing the high points of his pretty face, reverent in your touch, “... I feel the same.”

Your confession leads to Patrick's lips breaking into the biggest smile he has ever smiled in his life. Then they are on yours, savoring you, murmuring those three words over and over and over again. 

To others, it might have been too soon. 

But for you and Patrick, you fell in love at exactly the right time.

---

Sab

— Chap, you better not mention it

Chappel 

— mention what?

Sab

— The thing!!!

— Just don’t

— Shut up

Chappel

— i literally have no idea what your psycho ass is talking about brina

Simone

— ????

Ayo 

— if this is about the GOT finale, i agree with sab

— DONT SAY SHIT

— i still haven’t watched it!

Sab

— ew. It’s not about GOT

— I don’t watch that nerdy shit

— it’s about the facebook thing… with our old classmate… who…

— just don’t say anything

Ayo

— well damn, sorry 

Sab

— love you ayo <3

Ayo

— I guess I love you too or whatever…

You

— you’re talking about art’s engagement, right?

Sab

— OH

— um

— yeah…

Chappel 

— brina… you’re so… LMAO

— first of all, i don’t keep track of our old classmates, that’s lame as hell

— and second, i don’t even have facebook

— cause that’s also lame as hell

— but congrats to donaldson, i guess

Sab

— Ugh.

— so… ____…. Are you okay…?

You 

— yeah, why wouldn’t I be?

Sab

— Okay, that’s good!! I’m glad!! You shouldn’t concern yourself with donaldson!

You

— I’m actually really happy for him!

Simone

— Wooo! Love that for you, babe!

You

— Yeah, it’s a nice feeling

— like how i’ve fully moved on from callum :)

Sab

— :O

— :D

— that’s my bitch!!! 

Ayo

— YES I KNEW THIS TRIP WILL BE BEST THING FOR YOU!!!

Simone

— amazing :’)

You

— love you girls so much!! thank you for being there for me through my breakdown this past year!!

Chappel

— I LOVE YOU THE MOSTEST MWAUH MWAUH

Ayo

— love you toooooo

You

— also I slept with Patrick last night

— and he’s coming with me to all my last few destinations!

— boarding our train to edinburgh now, talk to you guys later!!

— and i think i really like him so please be happy for me sab :’)

Ayo

— ZWEATY ZWEIG?!?!?!

Sab

— WTF

— BITCH COME BACK HERE AND EXPLAIN

— AND OF COURSE I’M HAPPY FOR YOU, EVEN IF IT’S ZWEATS

— BUT COME ON WE NEED THE DETAILS!!!

— DICK SIZE, COLOR, GIRTH, LENGTH, CUT OR UNCUT

Chappel

— i’ll fucking leave this chat, i swear to god

Simone

— i love that for her…

----

Doors swinging open into a very hectic yet rigidly uniformed kitchen, a stylish man with thick rimmed glasses in his early fifties struts in with a call of ‘ door!’ before heading towards the sous chef. 

“Can I get a small slice of tiramisu for Table 3? It’s Felicity’s birthday.”

The sous chef acknowledges with a monotone heard, and the man smiles, turning —-

And almost collides with a young waiter. But just in time, he sidesteps before any mishaps occurs. 

“Oh god, sir, I’m so terribly sorry, I—“

“It’s fine, Barry,” the man placates calmly. He has worked in the restaurant industry for so long that nothing phases him anymore. “Just remember to call out next time.”

“Right, yes, of course,” Barry — the newest staff in the restaurant — acknowledges earnestly, nodding as nervous sweat starts to line his temples. “I always forget… but I promise it won’t happen again, Mr. Tucci!”

The bald man laughs goodnaturedly, shaking his head. “Haven’t I told you to call me Stanley, Barry?”

Barry sputters. “Yeah— I mean, yes , you did — I’m so sorry, Mr.— Stand– Stanley.”

Stanley places a comforting hand on Barry’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take a quick five minutes? I need you in top form when our big table of twelve arrives.”

 “Of course, Stanley!” Barry nods enthusiastically, and salutes him. “I won’t let you down!”

As Barry takes his leave to take a five minute break in the staff lounge, Stanley grabs the bottle of wine he needed before heading back onto the floor. 

La Chimera is as busy as ever. The three star Michelin restaurant is still at the top of every list. Stanley weaves his way through the floor, trying to get to the table that requested the 500 year old bottle of wine he is carrying. 

Just as he is about to completely pass by the hostess station, something — or more so, two someones — makes him stop on his tracks. 

“Well, if it isn't the O’Connors!” He exclaims joyfully.

Stopping as well and letting the group walk off, you and Patrick exchange surprised glances before both you turn towards Stanley, greeting him excitedly. 

“You remember us?!” Patrick questions with an amused laugh, his hand on your waist pulls you back closer to him, while his other hand reaches out to shake Stanley’s hand.

It’s been five years, so you are both so stunned at Stanley’s impeccable memory.

“I never forget a face,” Stanley says with a shake of his head. “Especially not one as lovely—” he smiles at you, and you could not stop yourself from giggling because of his undeniable charm. Then he glances at Patrick, “And as handsome as yours two.”

Stanley then notices your friends behind you, politely introducing himself to them. “Is it just the four of you, tonight?”

“No, we're actually with the big party of 12,” you tell him, pointing at where most of your friends had already sat down at the table reserved for your group.

Stanley beams at that. “Excellent! I guess you will be seeing more of me tonight!”

“Awesome,” Patrick grins. 

“Now, if you’ll please excuse me…” Stanley lifts the wine bottle in his hand. 

“Of course, of course!” Patrick waves him off politely, and Stanley leaves after smiling at you and your remaining company.

“The O’Connors, huh?”

Glancing back, you meet Art’s confused yet amused smirk. 

With a sigh, you say, “It’s a long story.”

“It’s probably Patrick’s BS,” Tashi speculates, crossing her arms and throwing a look at who her jab is aimed at. “Right, ___?”

“ Well… Sorta kinda…” You admit, snickering when Patrick’s mouth drops open, looking so betrayed.

“ Babe… ” Patrick pouts. “What the hell?!”

“You know…” Art begins. “I wouldn’t want Zweig as my last name either,” he smirks at Patrick before looking at you, “You two should just take yours tomorrow —”

Suddenly, Patrick wraps his arm around Art’s neck, about to noogie him, and Art winds his arm back with a retaliation of his own. But Tashi hits them with a stern and fierce glare, hissing, “ Guys . Not the time and place.”

Patrick springs away from Art, both throwing their hands up in quiet surrender. 

You chuckle at your fiancé and his best friend’s antics, while Tashi tiredly shakes her head. She then places a hand on the small of your back, leading you to the table where Chappel and Ayo are beckoning you all to hurry up. 

Patrick and Art don’t move, both of them tilting their heads at the exact same time as they glance down at the backside of their respective partner, watching you and Tashi walk away with an appreciative hum. Tashi can be heard murmuring a joke to you about just letting Art and Patrick marry each other tomorrow, and your melodic laugh drifting in the air as you agree with her. 

Art is about to follow you and his wife, but Patrick pulls him back.

Eyes still on you, Patrick murmurs tonelessly to him under his breath, “I can’t believe I’m getting married tomorrow.”

Turning towards Patrick, Art’s questioning gaze morphs into one of mild frustration, head shaking in infuriation as he readies himself to defend your honor. “Are you having second thoughts? Because I swear to god, Patrick— is that the reason why you haven’t shaved for the wedding?!”

“Second thoughts?!” Patrick cuts his gaze to his best friend, eyes widening in alarm. “What?! Hell no!” Then he frowns, fingers rubbing the scruff on his jaw. “And I’m not shaving because she loves it when I have facial hair.”

Head tilting until it’s parallel to his shoulder, Art looks him over, then nods in agreement. “Yeah… You do actually look better with facial hair. Hides more of that ugly mug…”

Patrick glares at him with no heat, then they are both laughing.

“So what’s up then?” Art asks, throwing his hands up and then crossing it together, waiting for Patrick to explain his thoughts and feelings.

“I just…” Patrick glances over at you again before looking back at Art, “I can’t believe she said yes to me. She actually wants to marry me . I just love her so much, man. And you know— Wait… Is this weird for you?”

Art rolls his eyes. “I think we’ve already moved way past weird, Patrick. I’ve agreed to be your best man.”

“Right, right,” Patrick replies with a happy, goofy grin at that fact.

The reparation of their friendship was a slow build throughout the last five years — no thanks to the distance and busy schedules — but Patrick was determined to make it happen. The start of it was at Atlanta, where Patrick cornered Art to have a talk. Art was vehemently about to refuse — that is until you appeared by Patrick’s side. He felt embarrassed after what he had done to you so he agreed to dinner, with both of you. Of course, Tashi came along also. Imagine yours and hers surprise seeing each other, when hours earlier, you had met each other in line at a concession stand, hitting it off because you had smelled her perfume. She was wearing a scent from your niche perfume line. She is a big fan of your scents, owning four bottles that she rotates and layers together on a daily basis. Despite hating Patrick at the time (she does not anymore), Tashi couldn’t help but instantly adore you after that dinner. So over the next few years, you and Patrick would meet up with Art and Tashi whenever you happen to be in the same city. And with Patrick and Art competing at the same level, it happened quite often.

Soon you and Patrick were sending presents to their little girl, being invited to big events hosted by the couple, and vacationing together. 

Who would have thought that Patrick would end up with Art’s first love, and Art would end up with Patrick’s first? Certainly not Patrick, but he is happy it went down like this even though it is quite a strange story to tell other people. 

“Honesty, I still can’t believe it myself…” Art tells him with a grin, watching how his best friend is staring so full of fondness at you. “She’s the love of your life, isn’t she?”

Keeping his eyes on you because he can’t seem to look away, Patrick smiles softly. “Yeah… Yeah, she is.”

Art claps a hand on Patrick’s back, happy for him. Then he motions his head over at their table “C’mon, man, we have a ridiculously expensive dinner we have to start eating that I’m paying for.”

“I told you I can pay as well!”

“Yeah, well, Tashi loves your future wife too much to allow that.”

“My future wife…”

“Oh, god , please don’t giggle like that ever again!”

Art and Patrick arrive at the table, Patrick taking his place beside you. 

After playfully rolling your eyes at Sabrina who is batting her lashes and flirting heavily with a nervous waiter who looked quite familiar, you turn to him with that pretty smile of yours that you save just for him. 

“Everything good?” You ask him.

“Everything is perfect,” he answers, just as Stanley walks up to the table, hushing the conversations with just his presence.

“Good evening, everyone. Welcome to La Chimera. I’m truly overjoyed to see some familiar faces tonight—” Stanley smiles at you and Patrick, “But for those unfamiliar, my name is Stanley and I will be your server tonight.”

He gives the table a moment to say their hello’s before he goes on, “I’ve also heard that the reason that you are all here is for a beautiful couple that are about to be wed tomorrow…”

Smiling, he glances around with a silent question of who the couple is.

Your alerted and wide eyes meet Patrick’s similar expression, then you both quickly point at someone random at the table with no thought behind it. 

Simone laughs when she sees your finger aimed at her, completely befuddled as you throw her an apologetic smile, but she tells Stanley her name anyway, “I guess that’s me! Hi! Simone! Pleasure to meet you!”

Patrick’s cousin, who got pointed out by Patrick, is similarly puzzled. “Umm… I’m Jonah? Simone’s… fiancé…?”

“Well, why aren’t you two sitting together?” Stanley asks with a lighthearted chuckle.

All your friends are so confused (save for Art and Tashi), but without questioning it out loud, a few people shuffle around so Simone and Jonah can sit beside each other.

The two start to talk, laughing together in disbelief at the situation, but they both seem completely into it.

Luckily, Simone did tell you earlier this week that she thinks Jonah is quite cute. 

Giggling to yourself, you take your eyes off them to glance over at Patrick, and he is already looking at you, fondness in those beautiful hazel eyes.

He slips his hand into yours, and lifts it up towards his mouth, kissing the knuckle just above the pretty diamond ring on your finger. 

Sighing, you lean over to kiss him, your heart feeling full when you feel him smiling against your lips. 

And hey, look at you and Patrick… A little fake dating never hurt anyone!

[thecowinblack]

Hi! Can you write a Luke Castellan x female reader, where they’re dating, Luke has a 4 year old little sister (daughter of Hermes) who is inseparable from him and the 3 of them act like a cute little family? I also had a thought of him calling them ‘his girls’. Maybe even a little angst at the end about him betraying the camp and seeing the two of them through an iris message comforting each other before sleep, bc his sister can’t sleep without him.

Thank you so much for sending this request, it was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! 💕

His girls

Pairing: Luke x Reader

Word count: 972

Warnings⚠️: Fluff, against, blood and injurys

..................................................................................

Your table was completely empty since all of your siblings were away, they'd give home over christmas. Seeing everyone laught and have fun with their siblings made you feel so left out. Suddenly you felt two arms wrap around you, Millie. The 4-year old was probably the cutest human being in the entire universe and she always managed to paint a smile on your face.

“Luke is back! He's in the Apollo cabin, their checking a wound.” She told you excitedly. Luke had been gone for almost a month now and you'd missed him so much. Rushing up from the bench you ran to find him, Millie short after.

When you arrived at the Apollo cabin you told Millie to wait outside, if Luke was bleeding a lot then she shouldn’t see it. The first thing you saw was Will treating Luke as he sat in one of their hospital chairs.

“Luke!” You said, happily.

“Y/N!” He coughed. You resched his bed and saw a ginormous wound in his stomach. Fear filled you, what if he wouldn't make it? You couldn't lose him! Millie couldn't lose him. As if saw the fear taking over your eyes Luke mumbled:

“I'm going to be alright sweetheart, when they are done patching me up wouldn't you mind getting Millie?” You answered: “She's waiting outside, I didn't want her to get scared if there was lots of blood.” Luke har you a week smile and you took his hand sitting down in a chair that stood next to his bed.

After about like thirty minutes Will was done and Luke fell asleep. You called Millie and she came and sat in a chair next to you. You reached out for her hand and explained that he was fine, Luke would recovered fully in a couple days and then he could go back to practice. While you were calming her Luke woke up.

“Hi my sweet girls, won't you give me a hug?” Millie basically jumped on him and it was only when you said: “Careful!” She calmly hugged him. Both of them now looked at you and with a sight you hugged him to, you just couldn't say no to these two. Laying your head at Lukes chest he sweetly combed your hair with his fingers, you looked up and kissed him gently, afraid that it somehow would hurt him. He giggled like a child and kissed you harder, like a boy who'd been away from the girl he loved for far to long. Behind you Millie clapped her hands excitedly and a small laugh escaped you.

__________________________________

__________________________________

“Millie are you coming? Luke is waiting for us by the water!” You shouted, waiting for Luke's little sister. The two of you were supposed to meet with Luke by the lake ten minutes ago. Millie hadn't left her cabin yet. You decided to check on her in the almost empty Hermes cabin that you'd been waiting outside of. Walking in you saw Millie crying in the middle of the floor. “Oh gods what's wrong sweetie?” you said lifting her up and hugging her.

“I can't find the bracelets that I was going to give to you and Luke. I made the pearl's and they were so pretty, then yesterday I put them on my nightstand but now they're gone!” She cried. “Alright I'll help you look!” You said walking over to her nightstand.

A few minutes later the bracelets were recovered and you and Millie where walking down to the lake. The bracelet she'd given you was adorable; they were colorful and had your initials on. Luke had a matching one with his initials. As you finally arrived at the lake, Millie riding piggyback on you, Luke waited a bit from the water.

“Lukeeee!” Millie shouted.

“You’re finally here! What took you so long?” He asked rushing forward to take Millie from your back and placing his hand in hers and Millie quickly took your hand in her free one.

“Well Millie lost something, but we found it!” You said handing over his bracelet, which you had in your bag, filled with towels and bathing suits.

“Oh Millie it's beautiful, thank you!” He told her as Millie giggled. When you got to the beach you all changed into bathing suits and jumped into the water. Millie decided that the three of you were going to watch Percy trying to impress Annabeth with his water manipulation, it wasn't going so very well. As you stood there Luke threw his arm around your shoulder watching Millie play with the small water horses that Percy had created. Your little girl was giggling and laughing as they ran on the surface around her.

Luke thought that he'd never meet anyone even half as perfect as you. And as you stood there, watching Millie, he wondered how he'd ended up with these perfect girls, his girls.

____________________________________________________________________

You'd just finished reading Millie a bedtime story when she'd fallen asleep in your arms, no one in your cabin had a problem with her sleeping here after Luke's betrayal. Millie had just cried and cried in the Hermes cabin, not being able to fall asleep without her brother so you'd taken her here. Your bed was more than big enough. Listening to her snores you fell asleep, falling into the world of dreams.

Luke had meant to speak to you, he expected you to be awake when he Iris messaged you, as you'd always had trouble falling asleep. What he didn't expect was his girls curled up in your large bed. A book was sitting at your night stand and he could see your face. You were calm, happy with her. But something seemed to be missing in the large bed, a space that looked like they were saving, saving for him.

[jazeswhbhaven]

Awaken Belphie! Trashland Showdown (Niflheim Event React I)

Spoilers ahead! (Had to put the warning here in case someone hasn't played the event just yet) Let's get into it ya'll!

First, let me introduce a new style I'm trying for my reacts. I have combined some screenshots into ONE photo that way it can cut down the number of parts to these reacts for the photo limit lol

How to read: Left to right /top row to bottom row Overall for this event, I'm feeling that it went very well for our introduction to Niflheim. This honestly gets me HYPED for Abaddon and meeting Asmodeus (even though we know his personality from the Doki Doki Academy game made by PB)

Belphie and Beleth are baes and I love them dearly. I am down bad for my babies. We also get to see some familar faces that are WAY over due

So grab a snacky snick snack and enjoy lovelies it's time to wrangle up 'dem devils!

So we start in the vast desert of the borderlands between Avisos and Niflheim. Bael and Stolas walk amongst the dead angels and starting going over why they were there in the first place. Bael basically called up Niflheim and asked them to take care of the angel attack involving hostages and three of the cherbium demanding things. Normally a country in hell would handle their own battles, but Avisos isn't the kind of country to not ask for a hand, and Niflheim gets the job done fast. because that's what they're good at.

The funny part though is that apparently Beel ended up helping too, at least that's what it seems like because Bael mentions he wouldn't have bothered calling up Niflheim if he knew otherwise.

Stolas makes a comment that the devils of Niflheim give him a bad vibe essentially and aren't normal, despite when he asks his friend Bathin more details about their culture.

A funny bit tho is Bael telling Stolas he ain't no better for not understanding, and Stolas is like I FELL ASLEEP IN CLASS BAM JOKES ON YOU BAEL

boy....

ANYWAYS Bael continues to tell more about the land of Niflheim to educate Stolas (who knows if he was listening probs not)

And it brings us to-

Now....a user (🦐) did mention something about the name, the scenery, and tbh I did get the same vibe from this.

>Japanese buildings and themes >the citizens wearing yakuza type outfits, oni masks on the wall, clearly Japanese influenced designs >the land of trash (or slums) I ain't trying to start shit, but it's not hard to see (to me) that there's some odd sense of shade being thrown and I even brought up "Did Bimet write this narration?" Because they first compared Tartaros to this land and I'm like damn what a weird introduction because...

BUT as I said, it's one of those things where it's like, yeah if all it takes is a couple folks to notice before it becomes obvious. I digress.

Back to the programmmm

Niflheim lore real quick: It was uncertain whether or not God intended it to be untouched or if it just ended up that way, but it was described that this place is basically lawless, shunned even. But this event will tell us how it was restored.

We see Bael tired as hell, going through the bills that Beel apparently racked up. And what's hilarious is.... Bael was feeling sorry for his friend, being all like "damn I guess he's alive and well living his life if these bills are being sent back, I just wish he'd come and do some work but I'm glad he's okay"

Only for Beel's ass to show up, give him a bill and point at it telling him to take care of it 💀

He ends up punching him (or trying to) and Beel blocks him and pretends he didn't do anything wrong (love him tho the trick bitch) Bael and Beel just doin' their thing of bantering like old friends or a married couple lmao (leaving Bael with their bad ass kids running around *the nobles* and racking up bills) But then Beel suddenly senses something...

the sky has turned an inky black color and the devils of Avisos are screaming and what not and there's loud booms and shit

Beel is just chill asf and Bael is like WTF IS HAPPENING So now they are leaving to investigate who is waking up

AND THATS WHERE MY POOKIE WOOKIE SUGAR COOKIE COMES IN

So get this, his fucking eyelashes fluttering, and his breathing literally is causing pandemonium around him and that's just him being awake. I wonder what happens when he's fucking sleeping?! And if you read in between, it seems like he's even tired from just blinking and sighing, which reminds me of Sloth from FMA who was only digging and he was exhausted, also didn't want to unalive himself because it was also too much work.

This grumpy grouch of the trash king that doesn't want to wake up has my heart though

And apparently he's country asf

Southern dialect and erthang

Where I live, folks talk like this pretty much if you go further south in the state or in different rural areas. In the city you get some who still have that southern drawl but it's not as thick. OTHERWISE that is uh not what I expected him to speak like. Maybe Beleth because it makes sense cause a southern talkin' fallen angel seems like that would be his thing. But it makes it better for me because while I lack the southern accent *ya'll heard my voice before* I am native to the southern area of the US so this is my comfort points for Belphie.

But in that case PB should of went with a more western type thing, boots, cowboy garb, that sort of stuff. Oh well.

I have to admit tho the "What in tarnation, I'm awake" sent me. Because he was just that surprised he woke up like?

at first, I didn't know what they meant by "lack of color" in referring to black when in art class we learned that black is basically all colors combined together, but when it does come to physics and light, black is the absence of color (woohoo i know a thing) But after they explained what they meant in his appearance I start to understand and honestly the more they described him the more I'm attracted to him

Now when they were describing the double pupil, they lead in with saying something about him oozing violently with sex (appeal) regardless of how many he has. And I'm wondering if the double pupil has something to do with that creepy angel thing with the multiple eyes we saw in the preview, or if this has something to do with him in particular. Either way. Wake up Belphie bae it's time to get a mosey on.

I reckon it's bout time for you to loosen your joints and ahem....work out a bit of that tension mhmmmm Which btw they revealed he's been asleep for like hundreds of years and I screamed lmao I wish I could sleep that well and still wake up alive

So he finds it annoying that he has to wake up and be king and even refers himself as a lowly wretch (you're perfect babes you can do it)

Buttttt we already know he ain't gonna do it all the way he's going to find another way to do it. As some folks say, the laziness person will find the fastest and smartest way to get something done.

In fact, he's going off to find someone else who's strong enough to do it.

his titties can point you in the right direction trust him.

Also I've seen his sprite and them sneakers look like air force one high tops so at least he got style, but count on Belphie to be comfortable in a freaking kimono that's barely tied on him with some sneakers.

Love him.

So when he arrives in the city, it's a weird balance of poverty and poverty, sewage, trash, debris but also has jewelry and gold decorated about?

Sounds chaotic. Like my place ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ (no srsly if you knew how the house I'm in was built like you'd agree lmao)

He runs into these raggamuffin devils just out and about and they have guns and don't even know who he is. Which leads me to believe that they can't tell he's a king simply because he doesn't give off that much aura about himself or care to do so. I'm assuming nobles and other kings can tell though.

They ask him who he is and irritate him enough to say

He just like me. I do not like repeating myself if I don't have to. Pure annoyance having to.

But they aren't really listening to him, thinking he's just stirring up shit to be a tough guy and this is when Belphie gets serious

if he has to repeat or ask you something three times that's it, you're out of here and I'm surprised he lets you make it to three times so it's like ya'll better learn quick or-

and they don't learn a damn thing. one of them charges at him and he literally just nudges his head and that guys hand is gone, Belphie's body ATE it.

btw this expression reads "really bitch? you stupid asf"

*kisses his nose and noggin*

But it appears that Belphie is unable to control his powers, because it's not just eating this guy's arm but the black aura is swallowing up everything and the sky and it's making it super hard for anyone to breathe.

Now this is immensely dangerous even for very little movement he's doing. Belphie is a force to be reckoned with just based off these small instances of his strength we've seen.

But...he chills out when he sees-

Beleth, tobacco fallen angel daddy.

*squints at the word "tanned" fix his sprite goddamit parts of him are literally a whole different shade

also another gripe I'm not sure if "faded" is a correct word? maybe "kissed by the sun" or something like that.

If I had to guess his skintone is suppose to match that of Beel's or (if any of you read birds of shangrila, the character Phi is sun-kissed tan)

when they describe him with golden eyes, a hunger for the hunt like an animal (hehe)

love bites i tell ya....he is very much loved, probably has a biting kink in there along with his original one

I would like to think that the scar around his neck is from when he had fallen, perhaps struck down by a higher-ranking angel, or he tried to unalive himself but failed but regardless I love that we have confirmed bisexual representation because it's not only women he sleeps with, the men get some toooo

Also I just love how I read the last part knowing that PB means that his scar is evidence that his life hasn't been easy but my mind is like

"damn falling from heaven, living in a lawless country that smells like trash and sewage, dealing with these rowdy ass devils, and slangin' dick, phew it's been hard"

*cough I volunteer btw, call my coochie nyquil the way I-* EXCUSE ME let's get back to the story :D

it's funny how he says "again" as if he's caught them just straight up chillin'. which i imagine so sounds like there's nothing to do at the moment in a ghost town like this one.

he approached Belphie with such casualness, mostly I assume to look cool while smoking his cigarette and the devils all surround him and start sniveling and crying like bitches being like "brother Beleth this guys trouble! help us!"

Beleth is just like yeah uh who are you? And he takes his time saying it too, he keeps his cool so well.

Ofc Belphie ain't got time for that. Now he has to repeat himself a third time lmao

But he does it because he acknowledges Beleth's power. He's happy that his search is over which I assume didn't take him long at all (I know how he feels) and thus he beckons Beleth to come to him. Even with or without the hesitation, the sky is swallowed up by that inky black aura again, blowing back everyone except Beleth who can hold his ground but knows this shit is bad and he's in it deep.

This lung choking aura of belphie's really interests me because he barely has to do anything to get it going but also he can't really control anything when it does happen and it's chaotic in nature. Perhaps that's how he is inside, just wild and unruly, nothing is structured when he has to be bothered and not go at his own pace with things. He just wants it done and done fast.

But either way Beleth seems to having a hard time handling his power, feeling like he's being swallowed up and taken over. But man's still has time to pop a cigarette in mouth and just accept it.

Or not

Now this is interesting because he compares Belphie's power to Lucifer. That's really crazy to me considering that I already thought Luci was pretty powerful with his "I speak and it happens" type deal.

Beleth goes into survival mode and starts to transform, (he's a kitty!) BUT Belphie is just like "aye, chill out what are you all riled up for?" and it's funny because it's like Belphie. Babes. You literally swallowed the sky and land around you in darkness and this man is over here dying what do you mean?

see? this basically means he ain't havin' it lmao he just wants Beleth to do the build a country thing not fight him and get all beat up or killed over it, which he was about to...lmao

WE have hit the limit for this part, so I shall leave it here.... See you at part two~

[sequinsmile-x]

Tougher than the Rest

Aaron volunteers to chaperone his daughter's field trip to the zoo. He's handled serial killers and terrorists, he can handle a bunch of first graders for one day...right?

-x-

Hi friends!

This is a birthday fic for lovely, incomparable @jetaime-jespere . You are such a light in my life and I am always so grateful that this fandom brought me you.

I hope you've had a day as lovely as you, and that you enjoy this <3

-x-

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: None. so very fluffy you should probably floss afterwards

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily yawns as she waits for the coffee machine to brew, her eyes fixed on the drip as if she could will it to go faster. 

“Still not getting any sleep, huh?”

She groans, not even turning to look at JJ as she appears next to her in the kitchenette, her hip resting against the counter. 

“No,” Emily grumbles, casting a glance at her friend before she looks at the coffee machine again, “Benny hates sleep all of a sudden,” she fights another yawn, “It feels like this is karma for him being such an easy newborn.”

She’d almost let herself forget about the two-year sleep regression. It felt like a lifetime ago when Violet was that small, the six-year-old now fiercely independent and sure of herself in a way Aaron always said was all her, and memories of her being that small, as dependant as her little brother was, felt faint. Out of reach in a way that made her ache for the days when her babies were still babies. 

Then Benjamin just stopped sleeping. He was exhausted, overtired and furious, unaware that doing the one thing he was fighting would make him feel better. She’d spent the last several nights pacing his bedroom with him in her arms, her lips against his forehead as she slowly, but surely, soothed him to sleep for a few hours until they went through it all again. Aaron offered to take it in shifts, to carry the load equally as they always had, but she’d refused. Benjamin was all about her, the last remnants of separation anxiety she knew she’d one day miss making him impossibly more fussy if Aaron went in to calm him down. It was easier for everyone to do it herself, but she was exhausted - relying on coffee and the knowledge this would only last a few weeks. 

She jumps into action the moment the coffee machine beeps and she pulls it out to pour herself a cup, only remembering her friend is next to her when she clears her throat. She smiles apologetically at JJ before she pours a cup for her too.

“At least he’s cute, right?” JJ says, a knowing smile on her face as Emily chuckles and nods, throwing an extra Splenda in her coffee than usual for good measure. 

“I said that to him at about 2 am,” she says, sipping her coffee and sighing contentedly, “And then again at 5.” 

JJ laughs, but she’s cut off as Aaron walks over to the kitchenette, already talking to his wife before he pours some coffee, “I spoke to Cruz and moved the budget meeting to next week, so I’m good to go to the zoo tomorrow.” 

“The zoo?” JJ asks curiously.

“It’s Vi’s school trip to the zoo tomorrow,” Emily replies, “They asked for parent volunteers.” 

JJ hums, her lips pressed together as she nods and looks back at Aaron, “And you’re going?” 

“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, “Why?” 

“No reason,” JJ replies, clearing her throat to hide a laugh, “Will went on Henry’s trip a couple of weeks ago and he had…fun.” 

Emily knew that was far from the truth. JJ had explained, in detail, how Will had come home from the trip a shell of himself. Exhausted and worn down by a group of kids he swore he could handle, his eyes wide as he told his wife about everything that had happened in the few short hours he was in the zoo. 

Emily loved her husband. He was an amazing man, an incredible father and he was excellent at his job. But he was wildly underprepared for what he was about to walk into. 

He’d never ended up needing to go to any of Jack’s trips as a chaperone. They’d always fallen at a time when he wasn’t around, a case falling at just the wrong time, or other parents simply volunteered first. It was part of why he’d made a point of clearing his schedule for Violet’s trip, a sense of guilt he could never quite shift for not doing the same for his eldest driving him to insist that he’d go this year. 

“I really don’t mind going, honey,” Emily says, trying once again to gently talk him out of it, something she’d tried countless times over the last week or so, “I went last year and it was fine.” She hears JJ barely cover a laugh next to her, her face half covered by her coffee cup, and Emily elbows her, “It was mostly fine.” 

The kids had been a little more out of control than she’d anticipated when she’d volunteered on last year’s school trip, but once she knew what she was dealing with she had it down. It helped that Violet was glued to her side, a little more shy than she was now, still finding her feet at school at the end of her kindergarten year. She was wilder now. More rambunctious. And, according to her 1st grade teacher, always at the centre of whatever mischief was going on in her classroom. 

Emily had a feeling that this year's trip would be more to deal with, and something told her that their little girl would be right in the middle of it all. 

“Em,” Aaron says, picking up his coffee, “It’s a bunch of 1st graders. I’ve interrogated serial killers and negotiated with terrorists,” he starts to walk away, throwing the rest of his sentence over his shoulder, “I can handle it.” 

JJ leans in close the moment he’s out of earshot, speaking low as if they were conspiring, “They are going to eat him alive.” 

Emily hums and nods, lifting her cup of coffee from the counter, “Yes they are.” 

___

Almost immediately a kid drops their water bottle into a pond. 

It’s a boy he’s met a couple of times, a kid called Theo who Violet talked about sometimes after school. Theo bursts into tears the moment he realises his water bottle is missing and Aaron ends up buying him a new, overpriced one from the gift shop, to cheer him up. One of the other parents looks at him like he’s insane and he realises then and there that he’s in way over his head. 

The kids are everywhere. Barely paying attention to what the teachers and other chaperones are saying, and more than once he witnesses Violet whispering to her friends, a sparkle in her eye she’d inherited from Emily, that only ever meant trouble. She smiles widely when she feeds her snack to one of the goats in the petting zoo, her laugh so full of joy and delight as the goat tickles her palm that he can’t even bring himself to chastise her. 

He’s just setting down all of the lunchboxes he’d been carrying, his agreement to carry Violet’s and then Theo’s leading to him carrying half of the classes, when he feels a tiny hand tugging at his sleeve. 

“Daddy,” Violet says, looking up at him through wide eyes, “I need the bathroom.” 

He smiles at her, tugging at one of her braids to straighten it out, frowning in confusion as he pulls a leaf out of it and drops it to the floor, “Okay, Vi. I’ll ask Miss Heather to take-”

“No, Daddy,” she exclaims, sinking into his side, her arms wrapped tight around his arm, “I want you to take me.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll take you,” he says, looking over his shoulder and making sure he’s got the attention of one of the other dads before he heads off so the children he’d been looking after are still being supervised. They are barely a few feet away when he hears a voice from behind him, one of the moms who Emily always insisted had a crush on him, catching up with him and Violet, a group of little girls around her including her daughter Cora.

“We have a few more for the restroom break,” she says, her smile wide as she places his hand on her arm, “I’ll come with you to help.” 

“Thanks, Melissa,” he says, subtly stepping away so her hand slips away from him. He looks down at Violet and smiles, “Come on, Vi. The sooner we go to the bathroom the sooner you can have the lunch Mommy packed for you.” 

“Mommy makes the best lunches!” She exclaims, a skip in her step as she pulls him forward, her endless energy in no way dulled by the long day and the summer heat. 

He hums, covering a smile as he thinks of the candy Emily had hidden underneath Violet’s sandwich, “She really does.” 

“Your wife couldn’t make it today?” Melissa asks, shepherding the gaggle of girls in front of her, the chatter between them full of excitement.

“No, Emily had work,” he replies, “Plus, our youngest is having some trouble sleeping right now and she’s his favourite by a mile.” 

“Benny can’t help that he isn’t sleeping,” Violet chimes in, repeating what they’d said to her and Jack over and over again the last few days, “He’s too small to understand.” 

“Exactly, princess,” he says, smiling as he squeezes her hand. They make it to the restroom and he lets go, stepping forward to push the door open, “I’ll clear the restroom.”

Melissa frowns at him, her eyebrows pinched together curiously, “Why?” 

He suddenly remembers where he is, at a zoo and not at a crime scene where an unsub could jump out of any shadow. He clears his throat and holds the door open, his arm high up enough that all the girls can walk right under it, “Sorry. Force of habit.” 

She smiles, stepping closer as the door closes behind the girls, “Of course, you’re a federal agent.” 

He nods and takes a step back, the back of his neck warm from more than just the sun beating down on it, and he realises that his wife may have been right about Melissa having a crush on him.

“Yes,” he replies, “As is my wife.” 

The conversation abruptly ends when Violet walks out, “Miss Melissa, Cora dropped her Nintendo down the toilet.” 

Melissa sighs and shakes her head as she disappears into the bathroom, muttering as she goes, “I told her not to bring it with her.” 

Aaron feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he digs it out, smiling at the sight of a text from his wife as he types out a response. 

How is it going? 

It’s fine sweetheart. Vi fed one of her snacks to a goat. 

He knows his wife well enough to know when he gets home she’ll see the exhaustion written all over him. That she wouldn’t say I told you so, but that it would be written all over her face, her smile wide as she sympathetically listened about his day. She responds so quickly he doesn’t even have time to lock his phone.

Just make sure she doesn’t try to bring home a snake this year. 

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead, a laugh catching in his throat, but before he can type out a response Violet is tugging at his belt loop to get his attention. 

“Daddy? Do cats like lizards?” 

“I don’t know, Princess,” he replies, not looking at her as he types out a response to Emily, “Why?” 

“Because I found one and I thought Sergio might like a friend.” 

He cricks his neck he looks up so quickly, his eyes wide as he looks at the tiny gecko his daughter was inexplicably holding. He sighs and tucks his phone back into his pocket, silently wishing the last few hours of the trip away. 

She is all you sweetheart.

___

To his credit, Aaron holds it together until the kids are in bed. 

He looks exhausted the moment he gets home, his hair ruffled and his black polo shirt somehow stained. It’s a startling contrast to Violet who was practically bouncing off the walls after the fun day she’d had. 

When she sneaks downstairs after putting Benjamin to bed, for what she knows will only be the first time that evening, she finds Aaron lying on the couch, his legs hanging over one of the arms as he stares up at the ceiling. She presses her lips together as she approaches, suppressing a smile she’s sure might split her cheeks open if it gets any wider, and she leans on the back of the couch.

“You okay, honey?” 

He hums, “There were so many of them.” 

She coughs to cover a laugh and rounds the couch, encouraging him to lift his head just enough for her to slip under it. She immediately runs her fingers through his hair as soon as his head is in her lap. 

“Tell me all about those mean 1st graders,” she says, unable to stop herself from laughing when he glares half-heartedly at the fake sympathy in her voice. 

“They just move so fast,” he says, leaning into her touch, “And they don’t listen.” 

She hums and reaches for his hand, linking them together on his abdomen, “It’s chaos,” she says, pressing her thumb into the crease between his eyebrows, “It makes you respect the teachers even more, huh?” 

He chuckles and nods, “Give me interrogating a serial killer any day,” he says, “I think Vi is some kind of ringleader by the way.”

“Oh, she for sure is,” Emily chuckles, “Let’s just hope she uses those skills to be a CEO or something and not a leader of a prison gang.” 

He smiles and lifts their joint hands to his lips, stamping a kiss against her knuckles, “She’d be a great gang leader.” 

She scratches his scalp, “Want to try to get an episode of that reality show you pretend to hate in before Benny wakes up?” 

He nods, kissing her knuckles again, “I’m not moving though,” he says, winking up at her from her lap “This is my favourite place to relax.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and briefly untangles her hand from his hair to reach for the remote, “You’re lucky you’re cute.” 

He hums, “I don’t think you’re the only one who thinks that.” 

“What do you mean?” She asks idly as she flicks through the programmes they’d recorded. 

If he wasn’t so tired, if he didn’t feel so entirely wrung out, he never would have said it, his wife’s jealous streak well known when it came to the other moms at school. When she was pregnant with Benjamin she’d practically mounted him to make a point at one of Jack’s soccer games when she thought a few of the moms were flirting with him. But he’s relaxed, lulled into it by her touch and her warmth, and the safety of their home.

“Melissa was definitely trying to flirt with me earlier. I shut it down though. Told her my wife is a federal agent.”

There’s a beat of silence, a moment of quiet, before she reacts, clearly having only listened to the first part of what he’d said. 

“She was what?” 

-x-

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[lavampira]

(COUNT)DOWN TO DAWNTRAIL — day seven: free day

one thing about ffxiv that has had the biggest impact on me is the core message in the power of bonds that people forge. camaraderie is as much of a driving force as hope throughout the game’s overarching narrative, and it’s the main part of what made me invest in it so quickly, and why I continue to love playing it.

and so, keeping on that theme, I want to take the opportunity to gush about some of the people who’ve also made the game and community a lovely experience over the last 2 years.

first, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention how glad I am that @hythlodaes and @birues came with me from swtor to give this game a try. it’s always so nice to have a friend who understands you so intuitively like gigi does with me when trying new things without judgement, building fun routines together in a new game, risking it all as an AST-DRK duo in frontlines, or slipping back into our old co-tanking roots, and she’s been my biggest emotional support and favorite guinea pig to level new things. and rue’s eternal willingness to fuck it we ball with me and all of her thoughtful meta and silly memes alike bring me so much happiness. I’ve loved sharing all the developing lore of our ocs and thoughts on the story as we’ve progressed mostly alongside each other.

I will also forever be grateful to @coldshrugs and @gefiltefished for all of their guidance when I was a sprout learning the game! azia and ash have always been so helpful and encouraging, and many of my fondest memories of the early raids, trials, and pre-duty support dungeons involve one or both of them holding my hand, and even braving queues to tank or heal for me at times despite being aiming mains until I was brave enough to consistently tank myself. they built up much of my confidence while venturing into a new mmo and I don’t think I would understand things as well as I do without either of them.

getting to know @scionshtola as we played more, dragging each other into the mines and bozja respectively, and bonding over same taste in dps jobs has been such a highlight, too. and so many of my frontlines assists are owed to them channeling a hidden inner zenos on the battlefield as well.

raiding with my extremes static in our brave little sparkle has been some of the most fun and challenging few months! @lilas is an absolute powerhouse of organizing, keeping the positive mood alive, and wrangling everyone into voice chat and party on time each week. azia is an excellent strategist and gentle advice-giver, which has gotten us to barrel through barriers that had us stumped at times. @zimmena is a radiant gem for crafting our tinctures, making consistent calls to move us through the mechanics, filling in any role that’s needed, and my partner in repairs. I owe @greyyourwarden my life many times over for keeping me alive or scraping me off the floor when things go awry as a very trustworthy healer, and trusting me without complaint despite healer instincts when I ask to be allowed to die for my invuln. gigi has not only been a powerful and attentive melee dps amidst our sea of ranged/casting players, but a cheerfully good sport when a stray tankbuster goes her way, too. kels and their carby have saved many, many pulls with a well-timed raise, and always is my reliable stack buddy. @the-rogue-mockingjay is a brave soul willing to try new things and brings so much enthusiasm to raid. and @galadae has been a trooper for filling in whenever we needed someone and picking up things so quickly despite the occasional short notice. I’m so proud of how much we’ve all grown as players and as teammates since the very first night!

my foray into crafting and gathering has also been greatly helped by the many tips from @impossible-rat-babies and the set of endgame gear graciously offered and made for me by @lxdymaria so I’d have an easier time once I was leveled.

and I’ve also enjoyed talking to and seeing posts by @drk-brain, @drkmissionaries, and other sidwol shippers and dark knight enjoyers over on the bird site, collectively boosting all the writing and losing our minds over our little guys and the big spiky man we all love.

I could keep going - the ffxiv playerbase is truly one of the most friendly, encouraging, and wonderful communities - but I’ll leave it here: ffxiv is a game full of love and support from the people we meet along the way, so it’s no wonder why it’s fostered such a similar space for all of us!

[houndsofcorduff]

Find the Word Tag Game

Woohoo! I was tagged by @aohendo to find some words in my WIP! Usually, I only do Hounds of Corduff content but this time if I can't find a word in that then I'll stretch out to my other WIPs to see if I can find them there. So if it's not from Hounds of Corduff I'll put what WIP it is from in parenthesis next to the word!

Before I move on I would like to open tag because I always get cold feet trying to tag others in case they've already been tagged or don't want to be tagged. And also because I don't want anyone to feel left out. But if you are cool with being tagged like all the time let me know!

Your words are: Certainly, Bowl, Member, Twirl, and Huff

My words were: squirm, tub, indent, liquid, and blank

Squirm [CW: profanity]

But the third bandit, the one who had been tripped by his earthcasting earlier, was up. She had been lying so still, Corduff had assumed she was unconscious and had nearly forgotten about her. Had she merely been feigning and waiting for an opening? If she had been, she had chosen the perfect moment. 

He hesitated. Should he use the dagger on the bandit beneath him or get up and use it to defend against the woman? And that other presence was very near as well. 

The bandit beneath him squirmed, demanding Corduff hold him tighter. The woman threw the dagger while he was preoccupied. Dammit, he couldn’t hold this one and defend against the other at the same time, not like this. 

STubbornly (APPARENTLY my characters never BATHE because I couldn't find "tub" in anything. Instead, I found ONE instance of stubbornly and here it is, from Prince of Fireflies, which I was writing in 2009. Smh. Pardon the formatting, it's formatted for a tv show)

Asher stays stubbornly and uncharacteristically quiet. 

CHARLIE: Asher you gotta say somethin’. 

ASHER: No. 

Charlie and Anderson can’t believe what they are hearing and regard Asher with this confusion.

Indent (I have a feeling this search will be fruitless)

I'm back and I was right, nothing for indent. So fun fact instead. I will have an instance of the word tub later because when Awen first gets an apartment on her own in Elsava she sleeps in the tub. But I haven't made it that far yet.

Liquid (from the Peculiar Adventures of Michael Mallory. Please ignore the terrible dialogue this was 2012)

“These are pain pills right?” Nick asked, his voice strained.

“Yes.”

“Then at least we can make sure they work,” Nick popped open the bottle.

“Take one every time you feel necessary,” Kelly said, “the effect should be instantaneous.”

Nick put one of the pills in his mouth and swallowed it without the aid of a smooth liquid.

Blanket

Hours later Hayes found himself in a small room, sitting on the edge of a thin, narrow bed attached to the wall opposite the door. There was also a toilet and a sink in the room. His bed had a blanket and a pillow. But other than that there was nothing there. 

He massaged his forehead with the ends of his palms. He had had a headache since he had left the safe house. They had spacecasted outside of the safe house and made their way to the East coast where there was a small ship waiting for them. He had been blindfolded anytime he was outside, but they had obviously traveled over water and continued eastward.

[mattodore]

playing with dionte's hair bc i'm procrastinating