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ienjoywritingfilth · 5 months ago

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a sinner i am

If its so wrong, why does it feel so good?

trope: Boyfriend's Dad PP character: Joel Miller x f reader summary: Your boyfriend Shawn Miller and his dad Joel bring you along to Hawaii for Christmas vacation. Things don't go as planned.

warning: 10/10 on the sexual tension scale, slowishh burn, kissing, grinding, cheating on your bf (but it’s cool, cuz its with Joel and everything is fictional in this universe), alternative universe b/c daddy miller stays alive and hates golf and he has a son named Shawn, no Sarah. rating: E

words 6.8k

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part i : takeoff

The best things in life are the people we love, the places we’ve been, and all the memories we’ve made along the way. - author unknown

"Loving him is a sin; of that I'm fully aware. But a sinner I am." - Bella Jewel

Your boyfriend Shawn brings over two iced coffees as the two of you work on a crossword together at your local coffee shop. You have been filling in the squares quickly.

"Thanks babe," you say warmly as you take the coffee from him. He presses a kiss to your temple, taking a seat next to you.

"Damn, you're fast this mornin'," he says when he sees all you've filled in. It's a tradition for the two of you; weekend crosswords over coffee. It's nice. It's domestic.

It's a little boring.

You're college sweethearts who met your sophomore year and have been inseparable since. And while the love is still very much there the butterflies have unfortunately been hibernating for a while.

It's normal, you tell yourself when you sometimes zone out during sex. It's normal when you've been together with someone so long.

"It's so nice to be doing this instead of college essays," you say.

"Fuck yeah it is."

This is your first summer of freedom without the threat of schoolwork looming in the near distance. Shawn is starting his master's in the fall and you've just accepted a position at the local museum.

“Just think I’ll actually be able to enjoy Christmas this year,” you tease. “Unlike someone who’ll be working on essays.”

“Hey now,” Shawn says with mock offence. “I’ll be able to enjoy my Christmas just fine. Actually, my dad wants to celebrate Christmas somewhere warm this year. He's talkin' about some resort in Hawaii."

Shawn comes from money, the son of the infamous Joel Miller of The Miller Company, the premiere construction firm in Texas. This means expensive vacations, nice cars, all of that is normal for him. You meanwhile have had to work hard for everything you have.

Being left behind at Christmas seems strangely unkind for the normally thoughtful head of the Miller family. Shawn's dad has always treated you like one of the family so this news is unexpected.

"Have a great time," you say trying not to be jealous. "Bring me back some chocolate macadamia nuts."

You can admit that even though both Shawn and his father are humble, kind men, you're always a bit bitter that they live so nicely. Leaving you out of their holiday vacation seems especially unkind.

"He's taking both of us babe," Shawn says with a grin. "You think he's gonna leave you behind on Christmas? After you’ve spent the last six with us?"

Christmas in Hawaii? Is this a dream? Your pencil lays forgotten on the table as you gape open-jawed at your boyfriend.

"Are you serious?"

"Babe," Shawn says meaningfully. "My dad likes you better than he likes me. Of course you're invited."

You've always gotten along with Joel. It's impossible not to. He's friendly, funny and charming. There's a reason he's good at his job. And you're a good girl, a kind girlfriend to his son with clear career ambitions.

A smile breaks out over your features and you pull Shawn into a tight hug. He chuckles, embracing you back, kissing your cheek.

"Make sure you don’t overpack, okay?" He murmurs in your ear as you giggle. “I don’t feel like helping you haul six bags of shoes for a week-long trip.”

Thoughts of lounging by the pool with a drink in one hand and a magazine in the other while the Hawaiian sun beats down on you is all too enticing. You kiss him fiercely, imagining the time together.

"I can't wait."

The two of you finish the crossword puzzle all the while talking about the drinks and food and the excursions you'll both take.

"Maybe once I've got a handle on school we can think about findin' an apartment in the new year," Shawn broaches, his hand over yours.

Sex fades, but this? This domestic stuff you have with Shawn? That's special. That's love.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He gives you a smile, that dimple poking out of his cheek that makes you swoon.

"Ready to go?" Shawn asks, extending his hand to you when your coffees are drained.

"Yeah," you say with your hand taking his. "Let's go."

When December twentieth announces itself with a thunderstorm you couldn’t care less because you’re at the airport. Your large rolling bag bag is stuffed with cute outfits, swimsuits and even some snorkelling gear.

"Feels like you got a dead body in here," Shawn laughs as he struggles with the two bags, handing you yours before swinging an arm around your shoulders.

"I wanted to be prepared."

"Let's go my little Girl Scout," he laughs with a gentle kiss to your temple. You both check in and then find your boarding gate.

"I'm gonna grab breakfast, you want anything?" Shawn asks as he parks you and the suitcases by the gate full of noisy travellers.

"Nah, I'm good."

Shawn jogs off in the direction of a Starbucks you passed on your way in.

Out the larger windows you can see planes taking off. You've never flown before; you thought that you'd be excited. But at the first view of those planes out the window you feel your stomach drop.

They’re so big and bulky. How does it fly properly? It couldn’t. What if people shift around too much in their seats? Surely this can’t be a safe form of travel!

You pull out your phone, distracting yourself with a game. You try for several moments but your eyes keep being drawn to the huge planes outside. You grimace, wondering if you should have gotten your doctor to prescribe you something for anxiety.

"Cheer up," a voice says. "You look like you're goin' to prison, not a five star resort."

You glance over to see Shawn's dad, Joel, at the other side of you, an amused look on his handsome face. He's wearing jeans and a faded grey Longhorns t-shirt. You're momentarily thrown as normally you see him in dress pants and button downs for work.

"I'm excited for the resort, just not the giant metal death box hurling through the air that is my only means of getting there."

"Touche."

Shawn jokes about Joel liking you better then he likes him, but the truth is you and Joel are very similar. Your senses of humour, your ability to read people, your tendency to see the worst in people before they prove themselves worthy.

Shawn is more like his mom, sweet and naive at times, always seeing the good in people. It's ironic considering which parent stuck around to raise him and which one escaped the country six years after Shawn was born.

Joel takes the empty seat next to you, his kneecap kissing yours as he pulls out his phone.

"Never flown before," you explain.

"Ah, I see," Joel puts his phone in his pocket, his attention fully fixed on your face. "Well what if I told you it's actually the safest way to travel?"

"I'd call you a liar."

Joel chuckles richly, his hand falling to your knee and squeezing as he laughs.

"I promise you, I wouldn't take you on anything unsafe. And if all that's not good enough, you'll have Shawn beside you holding your hand the whole time."

You grin at that, nodding. The thought of Shawn being there does help your anxiety. Joel smiles back, eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Thank you so much for inviting me along in this trip, Joel. I've always wanted to go to Hawaii."

"S'a beautiful place," Joel nods. "And you don't need to thank me. You're practically family at this point."

Shawn returns with a muffin and two coffees in hand.

"Hey dad, got you a coffee," Shawn says handing it to his father.

"Thanks," Joel says gratefully. Just then the intercom alert sounds

"Good afternoon passengers.This is the announcement for flight 82B for Oahu, Hawaii. We are now inviting passengers to begin boarding. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.”

“That’s us.”

The lineup goes uncomfortably fast. You stand beside Sean who is talking to Joel behind you, the two of them deep in conversation about football, a subject you couldn't care less about. You are still too preoccupied with the flight, being surrounded by almost all strangers sailing through the sky.

You're not a fan of heights. So when you get to the door of the plane you hesitate, willing your foot to move. When it doesn't and the flight attendants shoot you a confused look, you feel yourself start to panic.

Shawn has gone on ahead to grab your seats and place your carry-on bag in the overhead bin, not noticing that you're not behind him. A large hand flies to the small of your back, a comforting gesture. Joel. He rubs there, soothing you.

"You'll be okay darlin'," he rumbles in your ear. "Remember, it’s safer than drivin' a car."

“Liar.”

Joel’s deep chuckle makes you grin and you allow Joel to gently prod you onto the plane, shooting the waiting attendants grateful looks for their patience. He takes his seat near the front, watching as you make your way to your seat next to Shawn. As you buckle in a thought occurs to you and you move your voice to a whisper.

"Isn't it gonna be kinda weird with us being there all week with just your dad? I mean, sharing the place and all?"

"Nah, he made sure the rooms were far apart. Plus, he invited his girlfriend to come along so I doubt we'll see much of him."

Joel is a chronic workaholic, often pulling late nights and working on his phone. You’ve seen him out and about with beautiful women at the events Shawn takes you to but never formally dating them. You always assumed to be a lifelong bachelor. You wouldn't blame him, especially after what he's been through with Shawn's mother.

"I didn't know he had a girlfriend," you say honestly. "Good for him."

"A couple months now," your boyfriend tells you. "You know my dad, mister private. But he took me to dinner and told me about her so I think he's getting serious."

"That's really sweet," you say honestly. You want nothing but the best for him.

All of a sudden the plane starts to jiggle, sending people stumbling down the aisles and others gasping in surprise. You reach over and grab Shawn's hand, trying to regulate your breathing.

"Not so tight, babe," Shawn complains before gently sliding his hand from under yours. "You scratched me with your nails."

"Sorry," you mumble, eyes closed as the jostling of the plane continues.

You tighten your seat belt before gripping the seat arms so tightly that your knuckles are white. Sean squeezes your kneecap, murmuring that everything will be okay and that you’re safe. You keep your eyes closed, trying to focus on the soothing sounds of his words.

Eventually the plane enters smooth skies and the seat belt sign is turned off. Despite this you remain keyed up, sitting stiffly as Shawn fades into a nap.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

You crack open an eye to see a beautiful redheaded flight attendant bending down towards you with a glass of what appears to be whisky in her hand. She extends it towards you and you take it confused.

"This is from the gentleman in A-1. He says to take this and you'll be relaxed for the rest of the flight."

You look up a few rows to see Joel giving you a brief wave. You thank the women before raising it towards Joel in a Cheers motion.

Drink it. Joel mouths.

Yes, sir. You mouth back complete with a stiff fake salute before tossing back the drink.

He grins at you before settling back in his seat.

The drink does the job.

"Here we are."

The cab drops the three of you in front of the beach resort. When you step out the air is fragrant with the scent of flowers. You wait while Joel checks you all in before he's back, motioning for you both to follow.

There's the main section of the resort with luxurious hotel rooms. The more secluded section contains a variety of self contained houses that dot the waterfront. Its reserved for people who have unlimited credit card limits and drive cars that cost more than your parents first home.

When you arrive to your unit, your eyes are ready to bug out of your head. It's massive, as far as vacation rentals go. When you all step into the air conditioned unit you have to take a moment to take it all in.

The beach house is beautiful with floor to ceiling windows, stunning tile floors and tasteful furniture. All of this is topped off with spectacular views of the beach outside your door.

A plate of sliced pineapple and chilled wine sits on the kitchen table, along with a note that Joel reads when he wanders over.

"Welcome note," he explains when he sees you looking at it. "I knew the owner back in trade school."

You and Shawn nod, your boyfriends hand trailing down your back gently. It's much the same as what Joel did back at the airplane, but it feels different. You trail your suitcase behind you hearing the clack of it against the stone floor as you move around the room.

"Wow."

It's all you can utter as the three of you tour the rest of the unit. There’s a simple kitchen with an expensive looking coffee machine and a brand new bag of kona coffee waiting to be used. The living room holds a table and four chairs, a few board games and a list of nearby places to visit along with the wifi code. The couch is simple, placed in front of a large television that you’re sure you won’t use.

"My bedrooms on the right," Joel tells you both. "Yours it's on the left. We're sharin’ a bathroom, sorry about that. Pretty common in these places."

Who cares about sharing a bathroom when you're in one of the most beautiful places you've ever been? Even the bathroom is beautiful with its high waterfall shower head and sleek marble. This place must have cost a fortune for the week.

Joel encourages you both to take a look at your room down the hall and you don't hesitate to take Shawn's hand, dragging him there. Shawn pushes open the door to the bedroom and you can't hold in your shriek.

"Holy shit! It's gorgeous!"

The big windows overlook the ocean, the late afternoon beach beckoning to you. The bed is large and plush with white sheets, and framed prints of Oahu sunsets. Its spacious, the bed so large it looks like two giant beds pushed together. The closet is spacious and boats dozens of wood coat hangers.

“Wood, because it’s classy,” you tell Shawn in amusement who is already unpacking his suitcase while you continue to stare in a daze.

"You like it?"

Joel is standing at the door frame, a shoulder balanced against it, watching you take it all in. He's smiling at you in that gentle, sweet way of his that makes you feel cared for.

You're suddenly overcome with gratitude and you streak over to him.

"Thank you, Joel!" You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. "This is the most beautiful place I've ever been."

Joel laughs along with Shawn at your embrace and enthusiasm, holding you around the middle and hoisting you in his arms. Your face presses into his neck as he squeezes you, and the scent of leather and sandalwood envelops you.

You've never really hugged Joel before. Maybe a polite side hug during family events, a high-five during baseball games and even once a hard push to his shoulder when he made fun of you for being afraid of a spider that had gotten into the house.

But you've never had your front pressed to his, never really felt the muscles of his back and arms, seen the tendons in his neck or realized just how big his hands are when they squeeze your waist before lowering you.

"I guess that means you like it," he says, red-faced. You pull back, embarrassed at your overzealous response.

Shawn and his dad are very similar in their looks. Except Shawn is clean-shaven while Joel has a beard and Shawn's eyes are hazel like his mom's while Joel's are the darkest brown you've ever seen. You've never really noticed how dark until this very moment.

You shoot him a cheery thank you again before smiling and skipping over to Shawn announcing that you'll unpack as well.

"You two enjoy, I gotta make a few calls but then we can head out to dinner."

"Sounds great," Shawn says as he searches for his phone charger.

Joel closes the door behind him and you turn to your boyfriend. You can't explain it but you feel turned on. The Hawaiian air must be doing something to you because

You crawl towards where he kneels unpacking. You grin, feeling the pulse of desire hitting you below the navel. You kneel beside him, dropping your voice to a husky murmur.

"Should we break the bed in?"

An hour later the three of you are sitting at a local eatery. Joel and Shawn are talking with one another while you scan the busy restaurant.

Couples, families, all laughing and cheerful. And why wouldn't they? This is Paradise after all. But you don't feel anything like it, if anything, you feel like a little black rain cloud.

Shawn turned down your earlier advances, citing that he was too tired. The problem is for the past three months Shawn has been too tired most of the time. At first he blamed grad school but when you pointed out he still made lots of time for gaming with best friends Brian and Kevin he'd been quick to explain that gaming relaxed him.

That conversation had gone over about as well as a turd in the punch bowl. You remember being so hurt at what you felt was a slight against you. Weren't you relaxing? Weren't you something that made him happy?

So yeah, you had hoped that this little vacation might stir some of that old spark back. But maybe you were too eager. You had just arrived at the place after all. Maybe you were being unfair. Still, the rejection stung.

"Thought we could do all the tourist-y shit while we're here," Joel says after you've all placed your orders. "Luau, sunset cruise."

"Snorkelling?" Shawn offers.

"Hell yes," Joel nods grinning. "ATV tour too."

The Millers like to have fun. They also like to keep busy. It's like second nature to them to be off on adventures or activities. You meanwhile plan on spending lots of time by the pool or the beach, reading and drinking.

"What about you, darlin'?" Joel asks between sips of whisky. "What're you hopin' to do?"

You know exactly what. The thing you've been dying to do since you were a kid at the aquarium.

"I wanna swim with the turtles."

Shawn bursts into amused laughter beside you, and if you weren't already irritated with him before, you certainly are now. He grins at you not understanding that you're secretly furious with him.

"Turtles? Really?"

"What's wrong with turtles?"

"Seems kinda babyish doesn't it?"

"What's babyish about liking animals?" Joel cuts in. "You forgetting about the time we wouldn't let you in the petting zoo and you threw your shoe at me?"

"I was five, dad."

"Yeah well, some things don't change," Joel says with a smirk. "Still throwin' tantrums when you don't get your way."

"Fuck off old man," Shawn says through chuckles. “Don’t forget I’m your only child. I pick which retirement home I’m gonna stick you in when your mind goes.”

“Little bastard,” Joel mutters, trying to hold back a loud laugh.

He settles for tossing a drink umbrella in Shawn’s direction, chuckling when Shawn dodges it easily. You can't help but laugh along with him, your bad mood fading.

By the time dessert arrives you're all several glasses of wine in reminiscing about Shawn's last attempt at surfing.

"I've gotten better," he exclaims. “I swear.”

"Yeah well we'll see about that," Joel says paying the check. "Alright team, let's head back and get some shut eye. This old man needs it."

You roll your eyes at that. Joel isn't even fifty and even if he was he's about the best looking man his age bracket and younger. You've seen the way women stare at him, whispering, blushing when he looks their way. He is not what you’d qualify as old.

The three of you arrive back at the unit to the sound of nighttime creatures croaking and buzzing.

"Alright I'll meet you two out here tomorrow morning around nine. We can go to the excursion desk and plan the week. Sound good?"

"Sounds good, night Dad."

"Night Joel."

The three of you part ways into the opposite bedrooms. Shawn nuzzles your neck gently kissing there. He always does that when he's been drinking. You smile delightedly at this, eager to get into bed.

When the lights are off and the two of you have slipped off your clothes and under the covers you roll towards him, peppering his face with soft kisses.

"It's late, babe," he murmurs, kissing you sweetly but with finality.

"We're on vacation," you remind him, slipping your hand under his boxers.

You feel him slowly start to harden in your grip. You hear his breath hitch and you smile, knowing those sounds so intimately. You tug off your panties and slide onto his lap, preparing to ride him.

"Fuck me," you whisper, hips grinding against his. "Wanna feel your cock in me."

“Baby, no.”

Shawn pulls you off of him and you tumble into the bed next to him, feeling your cheeks grow hot with humiliation.

"My dad is right across the hall," Shawn hisses. “I don’t want him hearing us.”

Rejection never sits well with you and immediately you feel yourself growing defensive.

"You're dad is gonna be across the hall the whole week, Shawn,” you whisper angrily. “So what, we're not going to have fuck this entire trip?"

"We'll have sex," Shawn said rolling his eyes. "Just not when my dad is ten feet away sharing a fuckin' bathroom with us."

Bullshit. Another excuse to put off the intimacy that’s been dwindling for months. You push yourself from the bed, tugging on your dress from earlier. Shawn leans up on his elbows, giving you a look of concern.

"Where are you going?"

"A walk."

"I'll c---"

"No," you say sharp as a knife. "I want to go alone."

You stalk out of the house, eyes glossy with hurt and anger. That's the thing they don't tell you about relationships that have gone on so long -- both partners need to work to keep the fires going.

You make your way to the beach along the softly lit pathway. Its well after midnight and the resort is quiet; the lights dimmed or off entirely. You take a seat on a nearby rock, listening to the gentle sound of the evening waters lapping by the shore. You're very excited to go swimming tomorrow. To feel the warm sand underneath your feet.

You can hear noise coming from the far end of the resort. You remember over dinner Joel going through the resort map on his phone, letting you know what amenities they had. He had told you both about the dance club the resort had.

Shawn had immediately laughed, stating that he’d take a pass on it. Shawn hates dancing. You tried to get him to do dance lessons with you once but he wouldn't even give it a shot.

Right now it seems all you can do is focus on Sean's flaws. You know that he's a decent man, you know the treats you well, but there are these bugaboos these irritants that can't help frustrate you right now.

"Fuck it," you murmur to yourself, raising yourself from the sand and brushing it from your sundress. You follow the sound of the music, stopping in front of a door with blinking lights. A man in a blue Hawaiian shirt smiles at you when you approach.

"Aloha, may I ask your Unit number?"

"Number 4, under Miller."

The man types into his computer before nodding, opening the door for you. You step into the darkness, letting your eyes adjust to the blue lights and colourful dance floor. The speakers are playing typical vacation music with a heavy bass.

Bodies writhe on the dance floor, half naked in revealing dresses or in the men's case, unbuttoned shirts. You order a drink at the bar, taking it with you as you scout the area for a free chair. A hand on your wrist surprises you.

"Joel?"

Joel is seated at one of the small circle tables nursing what appears to be a tumbler of Scotch. He motions for you to take the free chair next to him and you do gratefully falling into it, your arm bumping his.

"What are you doin' here? Since when does Shawn dance?" He asks over the bass, grinning. He looks a bit tipsy, his neck red.

"He doesn't, I'm here alone. I needed to blow off some steam," you tell him over the music.

"Me too," he says loudly back. "Couldn't sleep. Too excited, I guess."

You nod, looking back at the dance floor wistfully. Everyone looks like they're having such a fun time, their worries and concerns far away from them as they undulate to the rhythm of the music. Joel takes another sip of his drink, watching you from the corner of his eyes.

You wish Shawn was here with you, you wish he was spinning you around on the dance floor. You wish it was like those early years where you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

"You and Shawn doin' okay?"

Joel's voice cuts into your confusing thoughts. You glance his way.

"Why do you ask?"

"Cuz I'm a dad," Joel. "And I've been married. And I know what tension between two people looks like."

You sigh heavily, your mind drifting to earlier. You don’t answer Joel because what would you tell him? You can’t tell your boyfriend’s dad that you’re worried his son is growing distant. You can’t tell him that your sex life has been disintegrating for the past several months. Instead you just shrug.

"You two talked about marriage?"

"What? No.”

You and Shawn have been together a long time, but you have no intention of settling down anytime soon. Sean is still doing his masters and you're loving your job at the museum.

"Good. No, not like that," Joel amends when he sees your stricken expression. "I just mean you're both so young."

"You were younger than us when you got married.”

"Yeah and look where that got me," he says with a scoff.

"Yeah, well, I think it's just been a long time and we're hitting a rough patch. Nothing we can't overcome," you add quickly. "It's just hard sometimes, you know?"

"Yeah," Joel nods. "I know."

The two of you lapse into silence, watching the twirling, shouting, laughing people swan around you. You shouldn’t be glum, you should be experiencing life!

"You wanna dance?"

His voice is low and husky in your ear. You start, surprised to see Joel inches from your face. You know he's speaking so close to you because it's so loud in here, but it doesn't stop your pulse from ticking at the shock.

"Don't really know how.”

"Shit reason. C'mon."

Joel throws back the rest of his drink and drags you onto the dance floor. You laugh as he spins you, both of you almost knocking into an older couple who are taking the dance very seriously. They shoot you both a nasty look and you and Joel have to work hard to muffle your laughter.

"You're gonna get us kicked out!"

"Nah," Joel shakes his head, spinning you again but closer to him. "I'm too charmin’."

"You think pretty highly of yourself don't you?"

Joel shrugs, laughing as the song ends. Another quick one begins and Joel looks serious.

"I'm gonna teach you some moves Shawn's mom taught me."

"Okay."

You're surprised, he doesn't really mention Shawn's mother very often.

You watch as Joel attempts to teach you some simple dance moves. You don't know if it's the stuffy club, the drinks running through your veins or the fact that you're dancing with your boyfriend's dad, but you can't really focus on the steps.

"I give up," you moan after the fifth failed attempt at a two-step.

"You ain't a quitter," Joel assures you, trying to spin you slowly so you can get your footing.

You never realized that Joel was such a good dancer. Watching him move his tall body is strangely hypnotizing, mainly because you never expected a man that broad and muscular to move so fluidly.

"Atta girl," he says proudly when you get some of the footing correct.

You smirk when you see the women nearby watching him, shooting him smiles. But his focus is on you, teaching you the moves and assuring you: it's alright darlin', we'll get you there just take your time.

You're having so much fun with him you barely realize that an hour has gone by and you can only tell when you realize the back of your neck is damp with sweat.

You're about to announce your heading back to the unit when the beat slows and many trickle off the dance floor. It's a slow song, and only the couples remain in the glowing dance floor.

You go to step off when you feel Joel spin you again, back into his arms. You smile breathlessly up at him, the two of you shiny from perspiration from the dancing and the warm crowded space.

Joel is looking at you strangely, his eyes luminous in the reflection of the twinkling club lights. When he slides a hand at your lower back and urges your hands around his neck you don't hesitate. You lace your fingers there, shifting from foot to foot.

You feel strange to be dancing with Joel. And not because he makes you feel uncomfortable, it's the opposite, actually. You feel almost too comfortable. Joel’s eyes are trailing over your face, sometimes highlighted by the flash of the DJ’s lights.

“You talked to Shawn about all that’s botherin’ you and this rough patch?” Joel asks out of nowhere.

He looks vulnerable; unlike the Joel you know who is all smiles and jokes.

“Kinda,” you say shyly, looking over his shoulder. “It’s just hard. . . We can both get pretty defensive. Plus, I wonder if I’m maybe being unfair. He’s in school and everything.”

“Uh huh, and you started that museum job didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Pretty demanding job, ain’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Joel gives you a look as he rocks you both from side to side

“Can I say somethin’ you might not wanna hear?”

You nod.

“In my experience, it takes two people to make a relationship. Not one puttin’ in all the effort while the other one has his or her head in the sand.”

You nod slowly, absorbing his words. The song ends and Joel releases his hands you’re your waist before he announces he has to hit the washroom. You head to the bar for a glass of water and to wait for him.

"Hi beautiful."

An Australian man around Joel's age with a moustache is leaning against the bar next to you. His eyes are bleary and red-rimmed, his cheeks ruddy. He’s obviously very drunk. You give a forced smile before going back to wait for your water.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"No thanks," you answer quickly. "Just getting water."

"How about a dance then?"

"I'm good," you say forcing a polite smile. You’re facing away from him, eyes on the bartender hoping he notices you.

"C'mon beautiful," the man insists, eyes sliding over your chest in a very obvious way. "I'm a good dancer too. Could give you lots of lessons."

"She said no."

Joel's voice is there, having clearly come back from the bathroom. You step backwards and before you know it Joel is sliding his arm protectively around you. You glance up to see Joel's face contorted into a mask of fury. His teeth are bared like some wild animal and he grips you tightly to him.

"Sorry man," The guy says holding his hands up in surrender towards Joel. "Didn't know she was taken."

Joel sneers before leading you out of the club. The cool air is a welcome reprieve when you step outside, breathing deeply.

"That place is nothin' but perverts," Joel growls as the two of you make your way back along the beach in the direction of your unit.

"Joel, you were there," you say giggling. "That make you a pervert?"

"Ha ha."

You walk quietly along the shoreline, confused as to how you can feel this good when just an hour ago it felt like everything was falling apart. Maybe it’s the drink in your veins, maybe its Hawaii, or maybe it’s just Joel.

"Watch it--"

Joel takes your hand when you stumble over a rock in the semi darkness. You let him, not dropping it even when your walking evens out. It feels nice to walk hand in hand with him, it feels safe. He doesn't let go of your hand either as you continue along, your shoes making dual footprints in the sand.

"Thanks for in there," you say. “I hate creepy guys like that.”

"Was nothin'," he says, then he drops your hand after a moment. "Shawn would have done the same."

"No, he wouldn't have."

It slips out before you can stop yourself. Joel stops in the sand, his concern there in his face. It’s clear that what you’ve said has upset him.

"What?"

"He doesn't like confrontation, you know that," you say with a shrug. "And I like that about him."

"You do?" Joel challenges. "Really?"

"Sometimes."

Honestly you’ve never enjoyed the men who start fights for no reason, who act like cavemen when someone looks at their girlfriend. Shawn is too smart for that, too above it to engage with assholes like that. But you have to admit that there was a part of you that found Joel’s actions inside the club to be a bit attractive. Is that the word? Would you really call your boyfriend’s father attractive?

You look at him standing there, his grey t-shirt clinging to his muscles and wide shoulders, the muscular thighs in denim and you think, fuck, yeah he is attractive. You knew he wasn’t ugly, you’d just never looked at him like that. Like he was a man outside of being Shawn’s dad.

"I come from a time when you take care of what's yours." Joel runs a hand through his messy curls. "If you were mine I wouldn't let anyone talk to you the way that man did, let alone touch you."

If you were mine.

You can't understand why but you're nipples tighten under your dress at those words. The possessiveness in Joel's voice is so dark and husky. He’s looking off into the dark like he’s really upset.

"If I was yours," you murmur.

His glazed eyes move from the beach over to your face. You’re standing so close to one another and you can see his chest rising and falling quickly as he breathes. His scotch-coated breath huffs over your cheeks and you swear you’re getting drunker just inhaling it.

You must be, because why else would you be putting your hands on his shoulders. Why else would you be pressing your mouth to his? Why else would you be tracing his plush lips with your tongue and whimpering when he groans into your parted mouth?

And he must be drunk because he doesn’t pull away or hesitate. He dips his head and his hands wrap around your waist, bringing your body against him tightly. His palms slide over your skin, desperate to touch you everywhere as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. You welcome it, going gooey in his arms, allowing him to take what he wants from you.

He’s so fucking broad, so strong, so masculine. You gasp into his mouth when he grips your ass with his big hands, pulling your hips against his, circling them as he kisses you. You feel his hardened cock through the layers of fabric, straining against the zipper of his jeans, desperate to bury itself in your slick heat.

To be desired like this feels powerful. It feels like years since Shawn wanted you like this much. It makes you lean more into Joel, desperate to keep the sensation going. His hands are sliding under your dress, up your silken thigh and you tremble.

A splash sounds nearby in the water, a fish or something startling you both and you simultaneously break apart. You both take a step back from one another in the sand, eyes wide. Joel looks completely crazed.

“The fuck—what are we doin’?” Joel whispers, the regret clear in both your faces.

You bring your trembling hands to your warm cheeks and tears immediately spring to your waterline.

What have you just done?

“Oh my fuck, no no, I don’t – I don’t know why-“

You bend at the waist, hands braced on your knees as you start to hyperventilate. Joel is pacing up and down the sand, his silhouette barely seen in the darkness of night. You can see his feet pacing back and forth. . . back and forth . . . He stops when you let out a hiccup, on the verge of throwing up.

“Honey stop,” Joel says, a hand on your back, rubbing gently along your spine. “Calm down. Calm down, its okay.”

“I don’t know why I did that,” you say, tears streaming down your face and dropping into the sand below. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“S’not your fault,” Joel says, his voice even and calm. It makes you feel calm. And yet, guilt still bubbles up in your lungs, making a small sob escape.

“I have to—you need to—I need to tell Shawn. Right now.”

“Hold on,” Joel says roughly, gripping you by the shoulder and urging you to stand. He peers into your face with a grim expression.

“You cannot tell Shawn anythin’.”

“I have to,” you whine.

“It’ll just hurt him,” Joel insists, nodding and hoping you’ll do the same. “It was a mistake. It was nothing, it was just the booze. We just drank too much and we were all hopped up on that asshole inside the club and we weren’t thinkin’.”

“Right,” you agree, relief sliding through every vein you possess as he lays it out for you. “That’s totally what it was. The drinking. We’re drunk.”

“Completely.”

“Okay. Good.”

You’re still shaken up by what just happened, still tipsy from the drinks. Joel runs an anxious hand through his curls, looking utterly wrecked.

“Let’s go back.”

The two of you walk the rest of the way back in silence. You still cannot believe what you did. You kissed your boyfriend’s father. You kissed him and he kissed you back. Fuck, you both must be utterly wasted. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll both forget it even happened. You would welcome the hangover from hell if it could erase the last fifteen minutes from both your minds for good.

Joel tugs open the sliding glass door, not able to look at you as you both pad towards the opposing doors. You glance over your shoulder to see Joel staring at you as you enter the bedroom where his son sleeps. You give him a sorrowful smile before closing the door.

You crawl under the covers, thankful that Shawn is asleep. You slip off the dress, your hair wild from dancing, your skin sticky with sweat, and your mouth still tasting of scotch. Your cunt flutters at the memory of the noises he made.

You roll onto your side, trying to drift to sleep. Shawn, still half-slumbering snuggles up against your back. His arm slips over your waist and he holds you, as he often holds you back home, gentle and tender and full of love.

“I’m sorry about before, babe,” he murmurs into your hair.

You feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You blink rapidly, closing your eyes and trying to swallow the guilt.

You know that Joel is in his bed right now similarly afflicted, thinking about how he did something so unforgivable and to his own son. Joel is the kindest dad you know; he loves his son more than anything. You know that what you both just did was awful and disgusting.

You also know that there is something deeply wrong with you because as you lay there in Shawn’s arms your pussy floods with memories of his father’s mouth on yours still vivid in your mind.

do you guys want more of this? or should it be a one-shot? also trying a new aesthetic what do we tthink?

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x oc #joel the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller x original character #au joel miller #bdf!joel #but the dbf stands for boyfriend's dad #joel miller x you

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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months ago

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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.6K]

THE TIMELINE

"Oh, won't you stay, just a little bit longer. Please let me hear, you say that you will, Say you will."

- Stay By Maurice Williams and The Zodiacs

IV. MOUNTAIN LAKE, VIRGINA: 1963

The man in front of you was not part of your vacation plans. He was half naked, sweaty, annoyed and scowling. The man in front of you was a stranger.

Except he wasn’t.

Was he?

You knew his name by now, something you’d only learnt on Monday, or perhaps the day before. Steve, Steve Herringbone or Barrington or something. He didn’t like it when you called him Steven and he certainly didn’t like it when you argued back.

But this was supposed to be a getaway, a small summer break where you could maybe sneak a smoke by the lake when everyone had returned to their cabins and the geriatric morning yoga was done. Except your dad knew the owner of the summer retreat, a huge house settled in the Virginia countryside, the forest greener than it was back home. Bauman’s Mountain House was host to many golf courses, a fencing team, seventeen rowboats, an archery club, the best water aerobics in the state and an award winning dance show.

The very latter included the man in front of you.

Tall, broad shouldered and tanned from the summer, Steve Harrington was handsome and painstakingly so. Brown hair that he always tried to tame by pushing his hand through it, brown eyes and too many freckles to count. He wore a gold chain around his throat, black slacks and a leather jacket on his days off, driving around the resort in a BMW that made too much noise, but he didn’t seem to care.

He cared even less about his bad reputation and loud ways when his partner broke her foot weeks before the final show, a tiny girl called Nancy that you were unreasonably jealous of at first sight. You watched them both on your first night, sat between your mother and father as they took to the stage, dancing flawlessly, fluidly, like they were one whole person. You watched the way she touched him, an easy familiarity that had your stomach feeling unsettled and something inside of you burned when her hand brushed the man’s neck, holding onto him as he dipped her low, her fingers trapping two little moles and hiding them from sight.

You’d blamed the cheap cocktails and called it a night.

But then your father found him arguing with Mr Bauman about the show and suddenly you were volunteered against your own volition, your parents talking loudly and proudly about talent shows and dance lessons when you were much younger, boldly exaggerating about how must’ve been a dancer in another life as you shook your head and tried to escape back to the gazebo by the shoreline.

Now you were left spending your evenings with Steve Harrington and his tight trousers in a cabin that was much smaller than your own. There was a leak in the corner, a consistent drip from a missing nail in the roof and rainwater splashed against the wooden floor as if it were counting down the seconds.

As if it were counting down to— something.

It had rained every night since you had started seeing Steve, the stifling afternoons giving way to humid evenings that always started to smell like rain by six o’clock, sweet tea and lemonade taken over by the scent of a new downpour. There had been threats of storms, chattering of it during breakfast in the main dining hall, grumbles of it from groundskeepers during bowling on the green.

But nothing wild, not yet.

Steve had scowled the entire time he was with you, minutes and hours spent with a frown on his face as he did his best to avoid touching you, mumbling something about getting the timings right, about learning the steps and the footwork before putting it all together. It was tedious now, repetitive and too warm in his small room and even with the bed pushed to the wall, there was barely space to avoid brushing up against him when you moved.

You were flushed, skin shining with a thin layer of sweat and the same sheen made Steve’s lips look glossy, his hair sticking to his forehead in curls and flicks. You rolled your eyes when he hit rewind on the tape deck, a silent order for you to take it from the top. But you didn’t move as he made quick work on his buttons, undoing them one by one until his short sleeved shirt hung open, showing off far too much skin. Lean muscle and a smattering of hair across his pecs, more skating down the line of his navel and you sucked in a breath, pretending you hadn’t stood on your own foot.

“It’s too fuckin’ warm,” he complained, circling you as he spoke, watching you for more errors, inspecting your footwork, your posture, the way your held your head up and squared off your shoulders.

“No shit,” you couldn’t help but bite back. “How’d you think I feel?”

You wore denim shorts to his black slacks, but your cotton T-shirt was sticking to your torso now, the baby pink material too heavy and restricting for the heat inside the cabin. You pressed your lips together and moved, eyes on the wall ahead of you, your right foot moving in front of your left before you twisted your hips half a turn and—

“Take it off, then.”

You blinked, your framework going slack as you dropped both your arms and your jaw. You were hardly prudish, but something about this man had set you on edge since you’d first seen him. An electrical buzz every time you looked at him, fizzing through your bones, an invisible string tied to your insides pulling and pulling and pulling you closer. You’d ignored it until these dance practices, always turning in the other direction, putting the entire resort between you both.

But now… now?

He was standing all of three feet away, cheeks flushed from the heat and his chest on show, his hands behind his head and his fingers buried in his hair in frustration as he stared at you. Like he was challenging you. The muscles in his arms were flexed, taut cords and lines that showed off how hard he work at his job and you couldn’t help but stare.

“What?” You demanded it, a bite of an answer.

“Your shirt,” Steve nodded to the pink material, brows raised like it were obvious. He almost rolled his eyes. “Take it off.”

Above you, the rain outside fell a little harder, a consistent din against the thin roof.

You didn’t say anything. You just hoped you didn’t lose your cool as you reached for the hem of your t-shirt, untucking it from your shorts. The cotton stuck to you uncomfortably, dragging against your skin as you raised it up and over your head, the brief second where your eyesight was blinded a terrifying prospect.

Was he looking? At you? Was he watching? Did he care?

By the time you’d balled up the offending fabric and tossed it in the corner, Steve had turned his back to you, pressing some buttons on the tape deck until the song - some kind of mambo - played for the beginning again. You couldn’t see his face but you wondered if he’d caught sight of your bra, as plain as it may have been. White cotton, thin with scalloped edges and a tiny pink bow between the cups. Hardly sexy, nothing near scandalous, but there was certainly a lot more skin showing now.

Slick, damp skin that you wondered if he’d touch. It was like he wasn’t allowed to, the way he skirted around you all of the time, his hands shoved into his pockets when he wasn’t demonstrating the next step, a fist pressed to his chin as he watched you repeat his instructions, a wide palm always hovering just out of reach of your lower back when he scolded you for slouching, like he’d went to put his hands on you - only to pull catch himself at the last second.

“You gotta loosen your hips,” Steve’s voice interrupted your thoughts as he turned back around. His eyes were on the floor before he finally dragged them up your legs and over your bare stomach. He sucked in a breath. “You’re too rigid.”

“You told me to hold my shoulders,” you retorted, knowing fine well that he’d bitched about your ‘noodle arms’ for days.

“Yeah, your upper body needs to be squared off. Hold yourself tight from here up,” Steve gestured to your waist with the side of his hand. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel the heat radiate from him. “But from here?” He tapped at the button on your shorts.

You froze.

“From here down, you need to put a bit of swing in the hips, alright?” He spun, putting himself behind you but you could see him in the mirror that leant against the cabin wall, an old looking thing that was too ornate to be here. Once gold, it had carvings of cherubs on the frame, tiny wreaths and rosettes intertwined with ancient style busts. “It’s a mambo, sweetheart, put a little heat into it.”

The tape begun again and Steve leant against a dresser, arms folded across his bare chest, his open shirt plastered to his skin. He watched you, waiting. The intro played and you counted the beats, nodding your head to each note and before you could hit the mark. Thunder rumbled somewhere outside and you were suddenly reminded of a man that looked like Steve, standing and watching you like that in a room much smaller than this, lit by firelight, dressed like a fighter.

“You missed the count,” Steve sighed, exasperated.

His hair had been longer, his face bruised and bleeding, but it looked just like him. A familiar scene, like you’d maybe seen it in a movie, but it felt more like a dream you didn’t recall having. You looked down at your feet, chest heaving, lips parted in confusion and you were only more dazed when you saw your bare legs and not the long skirts you expected. Your body didn’t feel like yours, not really.

Like it was borrowed, or broken.

You turned, facing Steve as if you expected him to be dressed differently, in leathers and studs and pleats, but he was still the same, just looking at you as if you’d suddenly fallen ill. Maybe you had.

“Drink some water,” he ordered, and yes, that sounded like a really good idea. “Then we’ll go again.”

You chugged the bottle, the water tepid and hard to swallow but you gulped it down greedily, praying against heat stroke or whatever else it could be that could be plaguing you with such hallucinations. You swiped at your lips and closed your eyes before you turned back to the boy and when you did, he looked the same as he always did.

Annoyed, tired, pretty.

“C’mere,” Steve said briskly, crooking a finger at you. You stepped towards him, unsure of what he was asking you, lingering awkwardly with a few feet of space between you. Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, I mean— here.”

He touched you then, his hand reaching out to grasp your own as he pulled you forward, closer than you’d ever been. There was barely space for a prayer between you both.

You thought that his hand in yours would’ve made you feel something, a spark, a fizz, that buzz that you felt in your bones around him. But something else settled over you instead, a strange familiarity, a longing for a home you didn’t know or didn’t remember, like Steve touching you was hardly anything new. His touch made you think of the sea, of vast gardens, of islands and storms and great wars, ruby wine and promises that seemed impossible to keep.

From the unsettled look in Steve’s eye as he stared down at you, you thought that maybe he felt the same thing.

But then he was fussing, moving his feet into the right position and mumbling about your stance. His hand took you with him as he moved, less than an inch separating your bare stomach from his and you let him direct you as he pleased, waiting for the song to reply from the top. The drums began, a cacophony of instruments you’d never be able to name joining in.

And then Steve was counting, his eyes suddenly fixed on yours as he nodded to the beat. “And five, six, seven—”

Steve’s other hand was on your waist.

His palm felt huge, big enough to envelop your side and his thumb was pressed into the soft of your belly, just below your ribcage. His fingers were splayed out over your bare back, his skin warm against your own and you’d never felt so completely consumed by just one touch. You were reminded of white sheets and hazy mornings, the taste of fresh bread and an open window that looked out to blue skies and you could hear a fountain spraying water.

But you were moving before you could consider it, what it meant, what it was, if it was possible to have someone else’s memories trapped in your head. Steve moved and you followed, your feet chasing his step by step as he walked you back and forth, his hips turning into yours on each beat, his shoulders set and his chin held high, ever the professional.

“Don’t look at your feet,” he murmured, barely heard over the music. “Chin up. Look at me.”

You didn’t know how to tell him it hurt to do so, how looking into his eyes this close felt like giving in, it felt like being stitched back together without any medication. You had never been aware of any wounds in your body, but this man you barely knew seemed to fill the space very well.

So you did, holding your breath until your chest burned, your eyes meeting Steve’s as you clasped his hand in your own and gripped his shoulder, letting him lead you around the cabin floor. The storm raged on, louder than before, more threatening now, like it was arguing, fighting, scolding.

The rain poured harder and what little evening light there had been was now dampened, the setting sun hidden behind navy and violet coloured clouds - but the heat was just as oppressive. Steve turned you, a twist of his body that led into yours as you spun on your toes, and when he caught you— when he caught you, his hand moved lower, slipping down your overheated skin until his fingers grazed the denim waistband of your shorts.

Maybe he saw you falter, maybe he saw your lips part, but Steve sucked in a breath and kept moving, his chest brushing your own as you stepped into his space as he danced into yours, torso meeting, separating, meeting, separating, meeting—

“Keep count,” he reminded you. “Keep counting the beats.”

You nodded, Steve’s face startlingly closer than before, as if he’d forgotten his boundaries, the box he created with strong arms, the one that kept him professional as a dancer, standing tall and strong. Now his elbows were bent, his hand falling from yours so both of his palms could bracket your hips and it was too much, it was everything you’d ever wanted, it was something you felt like you’d once had.

You just couldn’t remember who had taken it away from you.

Lightning lit the cabin, the storm over the resort, the sky black.

“Remember your hips,” he whispered, and god, god, his forehead was almost touching yours, his nose drawing a line against your own as his eyelids dropped and his lashes fanned his pink cheeks. His hands guided your waist, moving you from side to side, following the rhythm. “Listen to the beat.”

You were sure he meant the music, but it was impossible to ignore the thud of his heart against your own chest. You could feel yours even more so, a constant drumming that seemed to seep into your bones, making them crack at the edges, something blooming between them, something new and old and familiar and exciting.

Like driving into your street after a long vacation, like falling into your own bed after too many weeks away, smelling the laundry detergent that clung to everyone else that you loved. It felt hopeful, like the beginning of the morning when the only thing that had entered your thoughts was the way the sun looked in the sky, how pink it was, how the clouds seemed softer than the day before.

Steve pushed at your hips, holding them as you swayed from side to side, your hands leaving the safety of his shoulders to slip up, holding the sides of his neck, the heat of his skin scalding your palms and he nodded, pupils blown wide and lips parted as he stared down at you in amazement, like he was seeing you for the very first time.

Like he was seeing you for the first time after a very long time apart.

“Good,” he told you softly, like he was still teaching you, like this was still professional. Like he hadn’t put his hand on your lower back and obliterated whatever wall someone else had built between you. Something that had once seemed so strong was knocked down so easily, like not even a god could keep it between you. “Good. Like that, just like that—”

He swore when you moved closer, emboldened by his pretty eyes and the way his gaze tracked down your chest, down your bare stomach. His fingers flexed on your hips, blunt nails tattooing your skin and you hoped the marks would stay there, you hoped they’d be there tomorrow so you could remember that this wasn’t a dream.

His leg found its way between yours, the song finally slowing to the last few drumbeats and you knew this was the time where you were supposed to spin in Steve’s arms and raise your hand in a grand finish. But Steve tucked your hips close to his instead and let his thigh push into the seam of your denim shorts.

The song that came on next was slower, lazier, languid.

The singer had a deeper voice, the drums rolling with a dirtier beat and this wasn’t the mambo, this wasn’t a salsa and it certainly wasn’t anything you’d do in a ballroom never mind on stage in front of others. You’d seen this kind of dancing once before, the night after you first arrived at Bauman’s. You hadn’t meant it, but a walk along the lake after the sun had set had led you to a larger cabin at the back of the resort, where the lights were on and the music was loud.

Music like this.

A guy at the door with long curls and an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips had appraised you, one eyebrow lifted at your little white summer dress and tennis shoes.

“You work here?” He’d asked and you had shaken your head, ready to walk back the way you came. “You a snitch?” He asked after a pause.

Again, you shook your head ‘no’ and listened as the music inside got louder. The man, who you were sure you’d seen on stage during dinner, playing the guitar for the dining guests, just shrugged. He’d nodded to a stack of beer crates at the side of the building.

“Grab a case and keep your mouth shut, alright?” He’d opened the door for you, the music louder than ever, the smell of smoke and weed and sweat pouring out. You remember how’d he grinned at you as you took in the sight. “Have fun, princess.”

It’s where you’d seen Steve for the second time, in the middle of a makeshift dance floor with the bow tie and dinner jacket he’d worn during his evening performance long gone. Moving with a girl with his shirt buttons open, his hair a mess, grinding and manhandling her in a way you weren’t sure you would even call dancing. Everyone was doing the same, hips gyrating, skirts too short, men’s chests bare, the smiles meeting in an almost kiss.

It was nothing short of scandalous.

You’d left, dumping the beer on a table beside a watermelon that almost rolled to the ground in your panic, turning from the crowd and walking out the way you’d came. The curly haired man had snorted at the sight of your wide eyes, calling out a goodbye between laughs.

And here you were, not even two weeks later, doing the same, if not worse. Why worse? You and Steve were alone.

Thunder cracked again, louder than before.

It didn’t feel wrong to be doing this. In fact, for as much trouble as you’d be in if your father had had to catch you, everything about it felt right, like you’d done it before, like this man was yours to touch. But something that felt like danger lingered in the air, a threat far more serious than your dad or Mr Bauman.

But still, you let your body move with Steve’s, a slow grind of your hips into his and when your hand found the nape of his neck and your fingers twisted into his hair, Steve’s palm cupped your ass, pulling you into him, making you feel how affected he was.

It should’ve scared you. How this man was touching you, this person you barely knew, alone in a cabin and who you were so sure had hated you only a mere ten minutes before. But Steve looked as gone as you felt, eyes filled with longing, a passion that was visible, his brows knitted together as he stared down at you hungrily, lovingly, adoringly.

It was almost too much to bear. So you let your head fall back, body slack as you kept dancing, trusting the man to keep you upright and against his own chest and you heard Steve let out a breath at the sight of your exposed neck, the long line of it offered to him like a sacrifice.

“That’s it,” you heard him murmur. “You feel the beat now?” His words fell on your throat, your bare skin, the top of his nose drawing a line from the base of it to your jaw, his mouth following and you were so sure he wasn’t talking about the music anymore.

But you nodded, clinging to him when he dipped you backwards, his hands holding you like you were precious, like you were made of marble and gold and suddenly you felt like Steve could’ve been. Like someone had taken a piece of the earth and grown this man from it, just for you. Like he had something ancient in his bones, like whatever he was made of you, you were created from the same thing too.

When he pulled you back up, effortless and graceful, you were closer than before, impossibly so. Chests meeting in the middle as you both panted into each other's parted lips, noses meeting and foreheads touching. Steve’s hands were curled around your waist, fingers splayed across your naked back as if he couldn’t bear not to touch every part of you. Your hand was on his neck, your fingers brushing over two moles on his tanned skin, the ones you’d watched Nancy touch before you.

But as you pressed your fingertips to them, your lips buzzed and Steve let out a sigh, like you’d unravelled a knot in his spine, like you’d found a magic button that fixed him. Like you’d touched a place that you’d once touched before.

“You’ve never touched me before,” you whispered, voice cracking on each syllable because it suddenly was too much.

Steve looked pained, lashes fluttering as his gaze dropped to your lips and he struggled to find the right words to give you. “I— I shouldn’t be doing it now,” he murmured. “I’m not allowed.”

“Why? Because of your boss? My dad?”

He grinned, a smirk that faltered too quickly and he shook his head, still not moving from you, his nose nudging yours as he struggled to keep himself from shifting closer still. “You’d think that should’ve been enough to keep me away.” Steve licked his lips and you tracked the movement, so sure that he’d taste like summer and salt and the peach tea from the diner. “Not even the threat of losing my damn job and house can keep me away from you.”

His words had an effect on you, breath hitching, chest aching. “Then who said you’re not allowed?”

The song was still going, a lazy beat that was easy to sway to, Steve’s leg still wedged between your thighs and his hands were wandering, sensual and slow, a whole other kind of dance over your skin. Fingers gripped at your waist before one hand trailed down your hip, over your bare thigh, ghosting over the line of your torn off shorts. He brought your thigh to his hip, hitching your leg high, pressing you both together until you could feel him all, until he could feel all of you.

Laid bare enough for you to feel like he could take the very soul of you from your body.

You found that you didn’t mind the idea of it at all.

“You’ll laugh at me,” Steve murmured but he didn’t sound embarrassed at all, like he didn’t actually believe that you would.

You shook your head, nose brushing against the tip of his and if you moved another inch, just one, you could’ve been kissing him, mouth slotting against his. “I won’t,” you promised.

“I started having dreams when you came,” Steve told you. “Dreams where it always rained and the sky was always dark. And there was a man there, a thing, maybe. But he felt ancient, older than the fucking world and he told me to stay away, to keep away from you.”

You didn’t laugh. No. No, in fact, you didn’t say a damn thing.

Steve laughed, breathless and without any humour, and his hand trailed back up your thigh as your leg dropped slowly to the floor. He spun you both, lazy and languid, but the world around you both still blurred. The cabin faded away, a mix of the low lights and the colours of his quilt on the bed.

You could barely hear the storm, but god, it was the loudest it had been.

“I want to do ungodly things with you,” Steve confessed and he sounded pained, his throat tight with the same kind of emotion you felt, like you were both sharing the same heart. “I want to do ungodly things to you.”

“Steve--”

“I know it sounds crazy, but there’s somethin’-- somethin’ in the sky or in the goddamn cracks of the earth that’s telling me I shouldn’t.” His bottom lip grazed your top one, an almost kiss, a whisper of one, a mere idea of it. Hardly a touch. “That something real bad will happen if we do.”

You couldn’t explain it, just like you couldn’t explain your sudden proximity to the man, the achingly familiar closeness you felt. But you knew, somehow, some way, Steve was right.

Tears stung your eyes, a fiery nip that you tried to blink away and when the music slowed to a stop and the next song began, Steve kept moving, your body melted to his, no space between either of you to be able to determine where you ended and he began.

Your voice cracked when you spoke. “What should we do?”

Steve took a breath before he answered, one hand coming up to push against your hairline, his palm coasting down your cheek, holding you, cherishing you. His touch was hot with adoration.

“We can keep dancing.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot

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oxford-golf · 1 month ago

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#best golf resort #golf resort in pune #hillview best resort

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ambrosiaaddiction · 4 months ago

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The Princess and The Tool

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ repair man!Simon Riley x curvy!Y/N

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: None other than Simon’s just a man, and his thoughts start to wander.

₊˚ପ⊹ Part 1

₊˚ପ⊹ Word count: 2.5k

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Y/N and her best friend have finished unpacking in their new apartment. However, in the span of two months, more and more problems have occurred. Simon Riley is one of the several repair men in the area, and he’s sent over as a last resort to provide the solutions.

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Y/N was the most independent woman known to her family and friends. She was headstrong, had an incredible work ethic, and always looked after those who were close to her. As the youngest of two children, she took it upon herself to learn valuable life skills rather than wait until she was older. While her childhood wasn’t like what she had seen in movies and tv shows, Y/N never lost hope.

Y/N and her best friend, Luna, have known each other since freshman year of high school, and their friendship was nearing a decade. They were now in their early twenties, and they decided to proceed with their plan of moving together into their first apartment.

Although, Y/N had noticed a couple of things that seemed kind of worrying. She soon realized that the previous owner hadn’t taken great care of it when they lived there. A singular step on the staircase wasn’t properly bolstered, which led to the poor woman getting her foot stuck in the hole. She fell forward with a loud bang, and silence fell upon her roommate and herself.

“Are you still alive?” Luna joked as she stared at her best friend’s fallen body at the top of the staircase. Luckily, Y/N wasn’t injured judging by the laugh of disbelief that fell from her lips.

The worst of them was when the breaker shut off and neither of them were home. Y/N urged Luna to send a work order to the people in charge of repairs. The following week, the first man to check the breaker was no help whatsoever. He stared at the breaker for five minutes, shrugged at Luna, and left.

So Y/N sent a message herself, which was taken more seriously than her roommate’s. Little did she know who would be the one to come to the rescue.

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Y/N and Luna were planning on how to spend their afternoon together. Unbeknownst to either of them, there was a man parked outside of the apartment and sitting on a golf cart. Luna had her back turned to him, phone nestled between her cheek and shoulder as she locked the door. She almost walked past him until he called out to her, which pulled her attention to him. She put her phone against her chest, startled and embarrassed that she actually didn’t see him.

“I’m so sorry! I had no idea you were waiting here!” Luna’s face was reddened with a deep blush as she apologized profusely. The man chuckled in response, not really offended by her reaction. It sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. “S’alright. I tried callin’ ya, but I’m glad I caught ya before ya left.” He had a thick English accent, and his voice only caused her blush to worsen.

He rose to his feet, easily towering over her, the lower half of his face adorned with a scar running across his lips and chin. Like the other maintenance men that arrived at their apartment before him, he wore the standard uniform. Khaki shorts that hugged his muscular thighs, a standard cobalt blue uniform t-shirt that stretched tightly around his broad chest, and he had short cropped blonde hair. On his left arm, he had a full sleeve of black and white tattoos.

A few seconds later, Y/N drove up to the empty parking spot and turned off the car engine. Her eyes widened at the welcome sight of the repair man standing in front of her roommate. She got out of her car, making sure to lock the doors more than once as she made her way over. “Hello! We didn’t know what time you would be here, so we figured we would go for a little shopping trip.” Y/N explained as she waved to him with a warm smile.

In the back of his mind, Simon thought that he was lucky to be around two beautiful women. But that wasn’t the reason why he was outside of their shared apartment this morning. “Oh? Well, name’s Simon Riley, and I hope tha’ I can help you ladies with any issues.” He introduced himself, and gently shook Y/N’s much smaller hand. “I’m Y/N, and she’s Luna. She’s my best friend/roommate.” She replied in kindness, and her roommate smiled up towards Simon.

He shook Luna’s hand as well, the soft crow’s feet by his eyes crinkling with a wide smile of his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” With introductions were out of the way, Simon followed the two of them inside the apartment. He also noticed their similar styles. Y/N wore black spandex that stopped mid-thigh with a baggy t-shirt, and black Nike slides. Luna, on the other hand, wore ripped denim shorts, a black video game t-shirt, and black combat boots.

“My roommate told me that when she came home, everything was turned off.” Y/N began to explain as she stood against the wall adjacent to the circuit breaker. “We have no idea why or how the breaker tripped when neither of us were home.” Luna added with a shrug and watched Simon turn on his flashlight.

He nodded in acknowledgement of their concerns then rolled his eyes at the mention of his co-worker not being any help whatsoever. He wasn’t surprised, but he was glad that he had the opportunity to prove he was more experienced. “So it turns out that there’s a loose screw. Chances are that it was caused by the storm we had recently.” Simon concluded as he switched off his flashlight and sighed.

Y/N and Luna looked at each other, the both of them silently communicating before laughing. “That’s it? Just a loose screw?” Luna asked mid giggle, and Y/N laughed a bit harder. “And here we thought that we were going crazy.” Luna shook her head before sighing softly. Y/N soon calmed down then noticed how Simon’s gaze lingered on her. She cleared her throat, straightening her posture and tilting her head slightly to the side with a smile.

Simon quickly tore his eyes away, cursing at himself for getting distracted by a gorgeous woman who was clearly younger than him. “Was there anything else that you needed help with?” He asked Luna, who nodded and was aware of how he stared at Y/N. “Yeah, the paint is peeling off in her bathroom, and there’s like, mold in the corner of my bathtub.” She replied, glancing at her best friend for confirmation.

“Also, one of the stairs at the top has the carpet lifting.” Y/N added, which caused Simon to furrow his brows. The more he learned about the negligence of his co-workers, the more disappointed he became. “She got her foot caught in the hole and fell on her face.” Luna piped up, and Simon’s eyes widened. “What? You fell?” His scarred lips morphed into a sneer, but it wasn’t directed towards either of the women.

How dare the other repair men be so careless? They should’ve done a routine check before approving that everything was safe. Especially with two sweet women who just moved into their very first apartment. Simon’s intense glare could’ve burned a hole in the floor.

“I’ll show you where exactly the paint is peeling.” Y/N walked past Simon, and he caught a whiff of her perfume. It suited her perfectly; there were notes of vanilla, sandalwood, and peony. Soft, feminine, and certainly alluring as he followed after her up the stairs. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at her hands that were covering her ass out of courtesy. A part of him wished he was able to see it jiggle with every step she took.

Y/N claimed the master bedroom for herself. It was spacious; the king size bed was against the furthest wall from the door, a singular window with grayish-blue and sheer curtains was on the right side of the bed, the tv was mounted on the opposite side, and there was a shelf that served as a temporary night stand. A very simple setup for Y/N until she bought more furniture.

She turned on the light in the bathroom, and Simon was right behind her. Y/N had chosen to go with a black and white aesthetic. The shower curtain had a deep green leaf print, and there was also a toilet overhead shelf. Facing the toilet were matching black fluffy towels, and two checkerboard print hand towels side-by-side. It almost a tight fit with his bigger stature taking up most of the space.

“I didn’t really think of it as a big deal at first,” Y/N pointed at the top of the tile wall next to the shower head. “But I did want to have it redone before it could peel even more.” Her lips formed a soft pout, and Simon had to fight the urge to stare at them.

He had to stand behind Y/N, and the smell of her perfume filled his nostrils again. “I see. I’ll have it lookin’ brand new, I promise.” His voice rumbled in his chest as he leaned closer to assess where the paint was coming off.

But it was impossible to stop his mind from wandering. Simon pictured her covered in bubbles as she bathed. Her skin glistened from the warm water, aromatics wafted in the air, and her sultry gaze met the hunger brewing behind his eyes. Her hand slid down her soapy tits and disappeared underneath the water. Her plump lips parted to moan out his name as her back arched in pleasure.

What pulled him out of his naughty fantasy was when Y/N lost her footing leaning too far over the tub. She yelped in surprise, and his fast reflexes caught her before she fell. They stayed like that, his thick strong arms wrapped firmly around her waist to keep her upright. Y/N’s heart was pounding in her ears, and she had to ignore where his fingers were gently pressing into her skin through her t-shirt.

“Careful, love,” he whispered in her ear. “Wouldn’t want you hurting tha’ pretty head o’ yours.” Y/N would’ve melted right then and there if it weren’t for Simon supporting her weight. It was both amazing and flattering that he wasn’t struggling to hold her up.

“Thank you, Simon.” She whispered back, her voice slightly trembling as he carefully helped her stand on her feet again. “You’re welcome, princess.” He chuckled at the sight of her adorable blush. Y/N wasn’t sure how to recover mentally and emotionally from what just happened.

Luna eventually came upstairs to check on them, and with one look on Y/N’s face, she immediately put the pieces together. “So… will you be able to start painting the wall today?” Luna spoke up after a few moments of awkward silence passed. Simon’s mind was reeling as he turned to the other woman, and his hands were itching to feel Y/N again. “I’d have to come back on another since I don’t have the right tools with me. But let me take a look at your tub.”

They then left Y/N’s room, went down the stairs, and made their way to Luna’s bathroom. Compared to the Y/N’s bathroom, hers was an all blue aesthetic. Beside the tub was a soft navy blue bath mat. Luna’s shower curtain had a continuous pattern of navy blue teardrops in the form of circles. She pulled the shower curtain to the right, revealing her personal hygiene care and the corner with mold buildup.

“I noticed it a couple of days ago, but I couldn’t clean it off.” Luna gestured to the left corner of the bathtub next to the faucet. Simon’s eyes followed the direction of where she was pointing, and he understood why she felt somewhat frustrated. “Not even the scrub daddy could remove whatever that is.”

“It shouldn’t take me too long to caulk and re-paint that corner.” Simon reassured her, his hand pulling out his phone from his pocket to take a picture the mold. “I’ll care take of this on my next availability before moving up so I can re-paint your wall, too.” He said to Y/N after standing up to his full height. It was almost comical how he looked so out of place in Luna’s bathroom. Almost. If he wanted, he could have Y/N pinned against the wall and keep her there until he was done with her.

Simon waited for the roommates to leave the bathroom first, making sure to turn the light off as he walked away. “Alright,” he began once they gathered in the kitchen. “Just to be clear—replace the breaker, paint the bathroom wall, re-caulk the bathtub corner, and fix the stair. Does that sound right to you ladies?” Y/N and Luna nodded at the same time, pleased to hear that Simon remembered what needed to be taken care of.

“Yup! I don’t think there’s anything else.” Y/N beamed at Simon, and he swore he felt his chest tighten. She was beautiful, had a wonderful personality, and now she would plague his thoughts from now on. “Good, good. I’ll start on the breaker, so I won’t keep you waiting too long.” He turned around to leave, closing the front door behind him.

Luna waited until his footsteps receded and that he was out of earshot. “Girl, we got a man who knows what he’s doing. And he’s attractive!” Luna softly gushed to Y/N, and they both giggled. “His tattoos and arms, though? I’d let him put me in a chokehold any day.” Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile at her best friend’s comments. She recalled the moment when he had her in his tight embrace. Simon truly was a good-looking man despite his height and scars.

Half an hour later, Simon returned and finished replacing the breaker with an entirely new one. He took a step back to ensure that it wasn’t loose on any side, and nodded in satisfaction. “Yeah, tha’ should do it.” He hummed, pleased with himself for completing the task. Y/N and Luna were also pleased that he knew what he was doing—unlike his co-workers. “Like I mentioned earlier,” Simon spoke as he shut the breaker door, “I’ll come back to re-caulk and re-paint in both of your bathrooms.”

“Would it be possible for you to come in the morning? I’ll be available, but Y/N has work at night.” Luna questioned him as they all hovered near the now open front door. The women could tell that his visit was ending soon, and they were grateful for his help. “I can be here at ten o’clock sharp.” Simon readily agreed to her request, but a part of him was disappointed that he’d miss out on seeing Y/N again. “I’ll also give you a call to let you know that I’m on my way.”

“Perfect! Thank you for your help, and I hope you have a great afternoon!” Y/N waved goodbye, her (e/c) eyes shining in the sunlight. Her smile must be protected at all costs, kept away from the evil of the world. Simon returned the gesture before he winked at her. “No problem, love. Likewise.” And with that, he got into his golf cart then drove away.

Y/N and Luna stood in the doorway, completely shell-shocked by what unfolded. “What just happened?” Y/N whispered to her best friend, who honestly didn’t have an answer. “I’m pretty sure he finds you attractive.” Luna replied before shutting the front door and locking it. “Oh, my god, he finds you attractive!” She squealed with excitement, gently shaking Y/N’s arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you everything that happens tomorrow when you’re at work.” Luna promised her because that’s what good best friends do.

When Y/N gathered her once scrambled thoughts, she grabbed her purse from the kitchen island. “We’re going shopping, and you’re driving.” Luna let out a dramatic groan, but didn’t complain about being the designated driver. “Okay, let’s go.” She put her bag over her shoulder, took out her keys, and the two best friends left to do some retail therapy.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon riley cod #this took me two days

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valkyriexo · 8 months ago

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How Skz would ask you to be theirs | Maknae Line Hyung Line

Han

He would take you on a karaoke date, the perfect place for him to be loud and cheerful.

Unsure of what to get you, he'd end up bringing flowers and chocolate.

He feels completely himself when he's with you.

His favorite thing is trying to make you laugh and smile.

He feels a sense of belonging when he's with you, as if he's finally found where he truly belongs.

He's attentive to your needs and desires, making sure you're staying hydrated and fed.

He beams with pride as he watches you sing in karaoke.

He'd serenade you with your favorite songs during the karaoke session, pouring his heart into each note.

He'd end up accidentally singing you a love song and confessing afterward.

He'd playfully threaten to sing even louder until you say yes.

"I- I really like you," he stammers, his cheeks flushing pink as he forgets he's holding the microphone in his hand, the warmth of his feelings overpowering his shyness. His eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of nervousness and adoration, as he continues, "It's like all these love songs were written just for you." A sheepish smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he adds, "I'd really like if we could write our own version, about our story. The ups, the downs, and everything in between."

Felix

It wouldn't be anything he had planned.

You would be baking with him.

He'd wear a colorful apron and get you a matching one, and pretend like he didn't realize.

He'd giggle nervously as he accidentally spills flour on himself while baking with you.

Together, you'd bake heart-shaped cookies and decorate a cake.

He'd playfully steal tastes of the cookie dough as you work together

He'd lovingly brush flour off your nose and cheeks, unable to resist the chance to tease you affectionately.

He'd gaze at you with adoration as you work side by side, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of your focused expression

He'd write "Will you be mine" on the cake, trying to hide it from you as he decorates

He'd suggest taking silly photos together with the finished treats

"Your baking skills are amazing," he says, admiration evident in his voice. "You can get promoted permanently." "To what?" you reply, giggling at him. He presents you the cake, and with a warm smile, he adds, "Mine."

Seungmin

You casually mentioned you wanted to try this new mini golf place that just opened.

He had to work up the courage to ask you.

He nervously fidgets with his hands, trying to find the right moment to bring up the mini golf outing.

He quietly wrote it on a note while you both were watching a movie together because he was too shy to say it.

His heart races as he awaits your response, hoping you'll agree to go with him, though he won't show it.

He isn't the best at expressing himself.

He calls you pretty, but quietly.

He enjoys your company so much.

Despite his reservations, he's determined to make the outing special for you.

He's really bad at mini golf, but your smile makes it all worth it.

He struggles to find the right words to convey the depth of his affection for you, resorting to small gestures instead, like buying you ice cream afterward.

"We should keep going to fun places like this together," he said quietly. "You mean dating?" you reply, a playful glint in your eye. "Yes," he confirms softly, waiting for your response.

Jeongin

He really, really likes you but doesn't know how to show it.

You both decide you're going to watch a movie at your place and have a cozy night in.

He almost spoils his plan of asking you to be his through text. He ends up shutting off his phone to avoid accidentally doing so, which makes him a little late for the date since he loses track of time.

You choose to watch the movie Titanic, a classic movie that you both love.

He arrives at your place with a bag of popcorn and your favorite candy.

You cuddle up on the couch together, enjoying each other's company as you watch the movie.

He laughs at all the right moments, his infectious laughter filling the room and making you smile.

As the movie comes to an end, he hesitates for a moment before gathering the courage to confess his feelings.

However, he doesn't end up asking you to be his during the date as planned because he kind of chickens out.

He regrets it and shoots you a text at 1 am, asking if he forgot his keys in at your house.

His keys are in his hand when he walks in through the door, but he needed an excuse to see you again.

He confesses to you when he comes over to "pick up" his keys.

You listen attentively as he pours his heart out to you

"Basically what I'm trying to say is... We'd make a better couple than Jack and Rose," he says shyly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity.

#stayville #bang chan #skz #lee felix #lee know #minho #changbin #jeongin #seungmin #hyunjin #stray kids #idol #headcanon #date

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exhuastedpigeon · 8 months ago

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I want to be your fantasy (maybe you could be mine)

Buddie | Explicit | 7.2k Bachelor party, former stripper Eddie, pole dancing, lap danced, smut, getting together

“Let me get this straight,” Eddie asked, voice as deadpan as Buck had ever heard it. “Chimney wants a classic bachelor party, but he doesn’t want to go to Vegas and he doesn’t want to go to a strip club and he thinks we’re too old to go to a regular club.”

“Yep,” Buck had his feet kicked up onto Eddie’s coffee table, a beer held loosely in his hand, his thigh pressed against Eddie’s even though Chris wasn’t there tonight so they didn’t actually have to sit so close.

“Which is why you made us watch The Hangover.”

“Correct.”

“Even though Hen is his best woman and she’s the one in charge of planning the party.”

“She asked me to help. I-I’m pretty sure I’m getting on Maddie and Chim’s nerves trying to help with the wedding and they asked her to give me something to do.”

“Well, did you learn anything about bachelor parties?” Eddie asked, voice no longer deadpan and instead a little teasing. Buck couldn’t help the flutter in his stomach when Eddie smirked at him, but he could ignore it.

“Maybe we can just go golfing?”

“Yeah, that could work,” Eddie took a sip of his beer. “Make a whole weekend of it and stay at one of those fancy ass golf resorts.”

“T-that’s actually a great idea,” Buck pulled his phone out to text Hen. “Getting drunk on a golf course feels like a very classic bachelor party.”

“It’s what we did for my cousin Diego a few years back,” Eddie smiled at him as he spoke. “We also went to a strip club that night though.”

“No strip clubs,” Buck said with a sigh. “This would be so much easier to plan if he wasn’t marrying my sister and if he didn’t have so many requirements.”

“You’re the man with the plan, you’ll figure it out,” Eddie said, clinking his beer bottle against Buck’s with a cheeky grin.

Buck sighed when Hen said no to the golfing and texted her back that maybe they should just go to a Dodgers game, Chim loved baseball. Baseball could be a bachelor party activity.

Read on ao3

#buddie #my fic #buddie fic #911 #ao3 had a meltdown and when I posted the fic it disappeared so I had to post again (I AM WEEPING)

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sluttywonwoo · 11 months ago

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instead of you [part thirty-six] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, alcohol

word count: 3k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

“Nice hat.”

You gave Minho a sideways look. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s cute.”

You tipped the brim at him, grinning. “Thank you. Jisung picked it out.”

“He has good taste.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to the double entendre so you didn’t, choosing instead to direct your attention forward, where your fake boyfriend was teeing up.

Back at school, Jisung had gone off to play golf with a few of your mutual friends once or twice, but it was an expensive hobby, and as broke college students, they couldn’t exactly make a habit out of it. For a little while, Jisung worked as an assistant chef at a nearby country club for a couple of months which allowed him free access to their course in his off time, but juggling the job and his studies quickly became too much to handle and he couldn’t even keep up with his responsibilities, let alone have any free time to take advantage of the course.

Considering how long it had been since he last played, you weren’t expecting much from Jisung’s first swing, but when he stuck the golf ball with his club, it actually went relatively far. Of course, you didn’t have much knowledge of the sport to go off of when it came to gauging how well he was actually doing, but from the looks on his brothers’ faces, you assumed he’d done pretty well.

“Good job!” you cheered, running up to your best friend and kissing him on the cheek. “That was good right?”

He caught you with an arm around your waist and pulled you close. “Thanks, baby. It wasn’t bad, but it could have been better.”

“Whatever, you’re just being humble.”

“He’s not,” Felix piped up from behind the two of you. “Let me show you how a real golfer plays.”

You rolled your eyes in unison with Jisung but stepped back to let Felix tee up anyway, both watching as he took a couple of practice swings.

“How much do you want to bet he comes in last?” Jisung muttered in your ear.

“I’m not willing to go bankrupt over this, sorry.”

Jisung snorted and tried to muffle his laugh in your shoulder but it was still loud enough for his twin to hear.

“Oi! I don’t want to hear it when you’re up thirty points over me.”

“Yeah, we’ll see, Lix,” Jisung scoffed. “Just swing already! We don’t have all day, mate.”

Felix shot his brother a look but did as he was told. He rolled his shoulders and focused in on the ball, huffing out a breath and drawing the club back over his shoulder. He put more power into his swing than Jisung had but hit the ball with the edge of the clubhead instead of the center which sent it flying a little off to the left. From what you could see, the ball still landed on the pitch. It hadn’t gone into the trees or the lake, it was just in a trickier spot to clear.

“What was that you were saying about points?” Jisung asked smugly.

Felix groaned and turned back around to argue with him as Minho came up and took his place at the starting point.

“It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it?” you muttered to Minho.

He gave you a tight half-smile and shrugged. “You have no idea.”

It had only been an hour since the boys started and you didn’t think you’d ever heard so many insults and curse words thrown around in such a short amount of time, which was saying something.

Jisung, Felix, and Minho were all neck and neck with each other, with Dom far ahead of all three of them.

The course itself was beautiful. It was just across the street from the resort you were staying at, right on the edge of the water. You were able to see the ocean from the tops of the faux hills on the green, sparkling with the reflection of the sun. The waves were dotted with little boats and surfers all enjoying the good weather and making the most out of the afternoon.

You would have been content to spend all day there if it wasn’t so hot and you weren’t forced to stand around listening to your best friend argue with his brothers.

“How many more holes are there?” you asked Nikki, leaning over and whispering quietly so that the others wouldn’t hear you.

“Too many.”

“Kill me now.”

“Why don’t we get ourselves a drink when the cart girl comes around? It’ll make the time go faster.”

You grinned. “I like the way you think.”

You weren’t a stranger to day drinking, not by a long shot, but you didn’t want to get too sloppy while the sun was still up. You had long since given up on the little pact you’d made with yourself not to drink for the remainder of the trip— not that you’d ever really followed it in the first place. Nikki got herself a High Noon when the aforementioned cart girl came by, so you did the same, insisting on covering the tab for both of you.

“Please?” you practically begged. “It’s literally the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me.”

She seemed to think about it for a minute. “Fine. I’ll let you do it this one time. But don’t get used to it.”

You did a little dance in celebration and handed over some cash to the cart girl after she popped the tabs on both of your cans.

“Want anything?” you called to the boys. “It’s on me!”

Felix was the only one to take you up on the offer, both Minho and Jisung making a fuss about not spending your money on them. Where was this attitude back at school? you asked yourself, scoffing at Jisung’s refusal.

“I’m in the lead, I can’t afford to lower my inhibitions now!” Dom said. “But when I win, I’ll treat you to a pint, even though you’re canoodling with one of my opponents.”

“I’m starting to think you guys have something against me,” you accused the two non-participants as you handed Felix his beer. “What, do you think I’m broke?”

“We’re just gentlemen,” Minho said pointedly, shooting Felix a look.

“You are broke,” Jisung muttered.

“Watch it,” you shot, waving your drink at him. “You’re not getting a sip now.”

“Babe, I didn’t want a sip to begin with.”

“Okay, well even if you change your mind you can’t have one.”

He laughed and shook his head at the ground, walking back over to the teeing-off point with his hands on his hips.

Nikki was right, the afternoon did indeed pass a lot quicker with drinks in your hands. They kept you cool in the heat of the sun and the alcohol made the hours blend into each other.

In the latter half of the game, you started to pay more attention. You had finally begun to pick up what was good and what was bad from everyone else’s reactions to the shots and could actually tell for yourself.

“Baby, can you switch this out for the driver?” Jisung asked, holding his current club out to you.

“Which one is that?”

“The big one.”

You selected the club he described and passed it to him, taking the one he’d just used to put back in the golf bag. He kissed you when you met him in the middle to swap the two, smiling against you when he noticed Minho looking on.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” he whispered in your ear. “It’s too fun to fuck with him.”

Confused, you turned around to see what he was talking about only to see Minho standing a few feet away with his tongue in his cheek.

“Thanks, baby,” Jisung said, putting his hand on the small of your back to remind you of what you were doing. “You make a cute caddy.”

Minho mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t catch but you figured that was probably for the best.

After golf, you hung out with Jisung’s family at the pool for a few hours before heading back up to the rooms to get ready for dinner.

“Do we need to dress nice?” you asked.

Jisung peeked out from the bathroom to answer you, shaking his wet hair dry with a towel.

“Uh, not like nice, nice but nicer than just jeans.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

You turned back to your open suitcase and rifled through it in search of something that fit the dress code.

“By the way, where did you go last night?”

“With Minho?”

“Yeah, you were gone for like hours. I fell asleep and then woke up randomly and you still weren’t back.”

“Minho took me to some beach.”

“Did you have sex with him?”

You looked up. “Yeah. Why?”

Jisung shrugged. “Just wondering.”

You could tell he wanted to say more but you didn’t push. If you did, you’d only be hurting your own feelings. He had told you that himself. Jisung had been very clear that he wasn’t ready to talk about the Minho thing with you so all you could do was be honest and answer the questions that he asked, even if it was awkward and uncomfortable.

You were so used to guilt by now that you almost didn’t notice the fresh wave that washed over you. You knew it was wrong to still sleep with Minho after everything— hell, you knew it was wrong before everything, but neither of those facts stopped you from doing it.

You realized Jisung was still looking at you so you shook it off and picked up a random sundress from your luggage.

“How’s this for tonight?”

“Looks good to me.”

An hour later, you and the rest of the Hans were seated around a table in a dimly lit restaurant. The sundress had been the right choice. The place was right on the water and open to the outdoor air so all of the other patrons were dressed pretty similarly.

Jisung ordered for you after you looked over the menu together like always. Your hands rested on the table, fingers entwined for his family to see. You had been doing this for so long now that it was almost second nature to you. You had fallen into the routine a long time ago but you didn’t even have to think about it anymore. You probably wouldn’t even be giving the action a second thought had it not been for Minho staring at your hands from across the table.

It looked like he was zoning out, like he wasn’t actually glaring at you holding hands with his brother but you couldn’t be sure. You kicked him gently in the shin to get his attention. He jolted and locked eyes with you immediately, erasing any trace of subtly.

“You okay there, son?” Dom asked, patting Minho on the back.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine. Just got a chill.”

Thankfully, everyone seemed to move past it and the conversation resumed. Dinner was otherwise uneventful. The boys recounted the golf game and Dom’s landslide win, while you just listened and nodded along when it felt right. It was a relief not to have to add anything to the discussion. You didn’t have the energy to.

Dom stayed true to his word from earlier and bought everyone a round from the bar at the restaurant. You weren’t a big beer drinker but you didn’t want to be rude so you suffered through the whole pint, ignoring Jisung’s worried glances from the side.

“You know I could have finished that for you,” he muttered.

“I don’t want to look like a pussy in front of your dad,” you hissed back. “He bought it for us. And I didn’t want to be left out.”

Your best friend scoffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’ll do anything to prove a point, won’t you?”

“You know me.”

Minho pulled you aside after dinner, once you were back at the resort.

“Think you can ditch your ‘boyfriend’?” he whispered as you both fell back a couple of steps.

You stopped. “What, why?”

“I just want a moment alone with you.”

“A moment or several moments?” you challenged.

He smirked. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

“I can’t keep blowing Jisung off,” you sighed, “and neither can you.’

“You know he doesn’t want anything to do with me right now.”

“That doesn’t mean you should stop trying!”

“Look, can we not do this right now? When they’re literally right there?”

“You’re the one who pulled me aside right in front of them.”

You watched his jaw clench in frustration but he didn’t say anything else because he knew you were right.

“Can you ditch him or not?”

You sighed again and looked back to Jisung. He was in what looked to be a heated debate with Felix. You didn’t need to hear it to know it was over something stupid.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Jisung barely bat an eye when you told him where you were going.

“Okay, be safe,” he said as he kicked off his shoes.

That’s it? That’s all he had to say to you? You wanted to ask him just that, but you were afraid of creating another rift between the two of you. Jisung had said he wasn’t ready to talk about it so you shouldn’t push, right? But was it wrong to keep leaving like this?

Going back and forth with yourself was only wasting time and Minho was still waiting for you downstairs. Fuck it.

You grabbed a spare room key from the dresser, shoved it in the pocket of your dress, and left without another word before you could change your mind.

Minho was right where you left him, leaning against the wall by the elevator hub. He grinned when he saw you.

“Thought you’d never escape.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you let him lead you through the lobby by the hand. You were still wary of people seeing you together but the lobby was seemingly empty.

“Jisung didn’t care. It was me who took forever.”

Minho paused, letting go of your hand as he gave you a concerned once over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it. So, where are we going?”

He frowned, but only momentarily, quickly covering it up with a smile. “I- okay, um... remember how you said we don’t do ‘couple stuff’?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought maybe I could take you somewhere where we can do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking you on a date, silly.”

“Really? Where?” When he didn’t answer, you groaned. “You and your stupid surprises.”

“It’s more fun this way and you know it,” he insisted, tugging you along by the hand.

“I like being prepared,” you argued.

He grinned. “So be prepared for a good time.”

The drive wasn’t far at all this time but you were confused when he pulled into a crowded lot. You were even more confused when he didn’t turn off the car or more to get out of it.

You turned to him in confusion. “Minho?”

“Y/n?” he parroted.

“Where are we?”

“We’re on our date.”

“Yes, but where?”

“Did you not see the sign when we turned in?” You shook your head. He grinned. “It’s a drive-in.”

“Really?”

“Why do you think no one’s getting out of their car?”

“I didn’t really notice, to be honest.”

“Too distracted by your hot date?”

You didn’t spare him a reaction. “How’d you find this place?”

“I did some research the other night,” he explained, “when you, you know, we talked about it. I figured this is about as close as we could get to a real date. At least right now.”

“That’s… really thoughtful.”

He shrugged. “Nah, it’s nothing, really.”

“Well I was going to kiss you, but if it’s nothing—”

“No, no. I want the kiss. Give me my kiss.”

You chuckled, relenting as you leaned in. He met you halfway over the center console and kissed you sweetly. It was short but eager, just enough to leave you wanting more.

You had to remind yourself not to get your hopes up. Sure, Minho was showing interest in you now, but what about when this was all over? Would he want to do long-distance? Did he want to date you at all? You had been telling yourself that it was just sex all this time but now you were on a date... but what did it mean? You could just ask but you were scared to ruin the moment, ruin whatever it was that was actually going on.

You’d been asking yourself the same questions for weeks now and the scary thing was, it seemed like Minho was serious about you. He had all but said it outright to you. And here he was taking you on a fucking date. It was you who kept pushing back. You told yourself it was because of Jisung, but if you were being honest with yourself that was only half of it. You were afraid of getting hurt. You had never been in a real relationship before for that very reason. Well, that and you liked being single. It seemed favorable considering the dating pool of your university.

“I want another one,” Minho murmured, leaning in again.

“Nope, that’s all you get for now,” you teased, even though you did very much want to kiss him again.

His lips parted in surprise. “Wha- why?”

“Because I only promised you one! I can’t just go giving my kisses away, can I?”

“Sure you can,” he argued.

“That would lessen their value. I can’t wager them to get what I want if they’re not worth anything.”

“Your kisses are very valuable to me,” Minho insisted.

“Because I’m sparing with them.”

Minho inched even closer to your face, eyes trained on your mouth. “So I can earn them,” you started to nod, “if I’m a good boy?”

You almost choked on nothing, swallowing a moan. Minho watched your reaction with a self-satisfied smile and then settled back in his seat, turning his attention to the giant projector screen at the front of the parking lot.

“We’ll see,” you muttered hoarsely.

He hummed, still looking forward. “I’ll be good then.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lino x reader #lee know smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee minho smut #lee minho x reader #lee know series #stray kids series

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aambyvalleylonavala · 2 years ago

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#golf course in lonavala #best luxury resorts in lonavala #golf resort in lonavala

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gl1tchy-4rt · 5 days ago

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Piece of Towel 2 :0

Okay, so in past post I had mentioned that Pizza rebuilded the Tower out of spite to take rightful revenge on Peppino and the others.

So I decided to draw The New Tower!

Behold! The New Tower.

As you can see this Tower is taller but more scuffed and rushed than the previous one.

PizzaMan had to cut budget in order to effectuate his completely reasonable revenge but hey! It's standing and in one piece!... Most of the Time....

Five floors of pain! Four levels each! One New henchmen protecting the key to the next floor, Fun for the whole Family!

• Floors!

(Cause a tower has floors and lots of levels :D)

• Floor One: Reception Room

The Main area for visitors, Tell your motives and get going!, since PizzaBoy's Pizz-Pizza is a busy company with busy employees you should also be busy and movin'!

Level 1: Entrance

Level 2: PizzaRuins

Level 3: Mozzarella Museum

Level 4: Olive Offices

BOSS: Michael Jones (Yup he's Dougie's brother)

Hidden Level: Old Tower = Lobby

• Floor Two: Mediapolis

Studios, cameras and totally real news that hadn't been altered to cause fear mongering! The perfect place to promote your brand and become famous in exchange of your soul and privacy!

Level 1: Hot-Sun Studios

Level 2: Withering Arizona

Level 3: Faux Vegas!

Level 4: Rootbeer Pub

BOSS: Dj Ananas (AKA: Peter C. Ananas)

Hidden Level: Old Tower = Western District

• Floor Three: PizzaLand!

"Enjoy, Buy and Consume!" That's our motto! Come to enjoy the many attractions that PizzaLand has to offer! (PizzaLand doesn't make themselves responsible for the loss of items, money, family, health, dignity or innocence)

Level 1: Cheese Resort

Level 2: PizzaLand Park

Level 3: GOLF 2 (Not affiliated with Billy C. Greaseball)

Level 4: PizzaBoy's Mega-Mall!

BOSS: The Prince (AKA: Kingsley Hamburg)

Hidden Level: Old Tower = Vacation Resort

• Floor Four: Sacrifice Zone

What? Did you seriously think that a company like this would care about some plants? Heck nah! Where lame-os see "Destruction of both emviroment and quality of life" WE SEE BIG PROFITS.

Level 1: Industrial Streets

Level 2: Ah Crap... (Chemical waste disposal area)

Level 3: Drippin' Boilin' Melterator (Climate change :D)

Level 4: War-bot Factory

BOSS: T0N1 the Task Maneger

Hidden Level: Old Tower = Slum

• Floor Five: PizzaBoy's Private Offices

The Blood of the Company, This is where the... "Magic" happens, all the deals, transactions, stock management, Tax tax evasion, invention brainstorming, unethical experimentation, Magical researching, ect, ect… Everything that's helpful and essential for PizzaBoy's Pizza-Pizza!

Level 1: Pizza Offices

Level 2: Make Sound, Lemme hear You!

Level 3: Secret Labs

BOSS: "Bulldozer" the Last Clone

Level 4: Crumbling Walls (Outside of the Tower)

TRUE BOSS (Top of the Tower): PizzaMan

Hidden Level: Old Tower = Staff Only

• Hidden Floor: PizzaMan's Private Studio:

"You six aren't supposed to be here…" Level: Private Studio -------------------------------

HOOO BOY THIS WAS A LONG ONE

This is the Layout of the New Tower, the New Levels and PizzaMan's New Henchmen!

Im going to be posting the Floors with Their Bosses

It WILL take a while but ill try my best! besides Summer is soon! so ill have a bit more time to draw

Anyhow Everyone take care and

See y'all later!

#pizza tower #pizza tower au #spaghetti family #pizza tower oc #art #Pizza Tower PizzaMan #pizzaman #pizza man #Chester PizzaMan #Pizza Tower Chester PizzaMan

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melanieph321 · 4 months ago

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Ruben Dias x Reader - Summer Fling Part 6/10

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary - Reader has landed a research job at a marine biology lab in Portugal. She is, therefore, staying with her sister and her sister's Portuguese boyfriend for the summer holidays. There she meets Ruben Dias who is on vacation with his friends after the 2024 Euros. However, the two meet under the circumstances in which Ruben believes that Reader is a prostitute.

Enjoy ☀️

You rolled over in your sleep, surprised to hit a wall. A soft and warm wall that smelled of lemon shampoo.

"Sleep, it's still early." A male voice sighed.

Your eyes flung open as a hand was placed on your waist, tugging you to lay closer to the wall.

"Ruben?"

"Mhmm?"

The two of you lay in bed in a spoon, daylight peaking through the blinds. Ruben, however, seemed in no rush to wake up. He had been your savior last night after coming to pick you up on such short notice. He was still staying in Quarteira with his friends. It's where you were now. it's where you had spent the night.

"I think I should go." You whispered and tried to wiggle yourself out of his embrace.

"Stay." He groaned. "Where else would you go?"

It was a good question. Where would you go? Believe it or not, you were angry at your sister but even more angry at her boyfriend, who had manhandled you in a way that made you fear for your sister's well-being. Was Diogo usually violent with her? If yes, why was Maki still with him?

"Hey, you okay?" There was a dip in the bed as Ruben made the motion to check on you. You turned around in order to face him and his sleepy eyes. "I think I should go."

"Back to Faro?"

You nodded, although it would be hard to leave Ruben's bedside while he stared you down like a lost puppy. He had been so respectful of you, too, asking if you wanted your own room instead of sharing with him. He even bought you the essentials, like a toothbrush and some new clothes after picking you up last night.

"I just need to see if my sister is okay." You said.

"Didn't you say that the two of you talked on the phone?"

You didn't really tell Ruben the full story for obvious reasons. He just thought that you got stranded in Albufeira while unable to reach your sister to give you a ride home. You thought It was best not to involve him at all in your family drama.

"I did, but I still want to see if she's okay. Really, Ruben, thank you for everything…" You uncovered the sheets and slipped out of bed. "You really saved me last ni—."

Something barked as your foot stepped on the floor. You got so frightened by it that you jumped back into bed, back into Ruben's arms. "What the hell?"

Ruben's laughter drummed in your ears as he held you tight. "Seems like someone's jealous of you for taking their spot in my bed. Simba, vamos!"

A pup appeared at the foot of the bed, jumping up from the floor. A golden poodle that made its way towards you and Ruben.

"A linda menina surpreendeu-te, não foi Simba?" (Did the beautiful girl surprise you, did she Simba?) Ruben cradled the dog against his torso, giving it sweet kisses to which it responded with a wag of its tail and joyeuse barks. "Y/N, meet Simba, my sweet little angel."

It was a friendly dog that, after sniffing the palm of your hand, didn't mind being pet by you. She actually loved the attention that you and Ruben gave her, which resulted in you staying i bed for an additional hour, just cuddling and playing with the pup. By the time that Ruben suggested that the two of you go out for breakfast, you had forgotten about your troubles back home and didn't mind being dragged to one of the fanciest places you had ever been to.

"Do you play golf?" Ruben asked, as the two of you sat on restaurant terrace in a place called Vilamoura. The restaurant overlooked a magnificent luxury resort with not one but two golf courses right next to a fancy yacht marina.

"Golf, no. Why, do you?"

"Nah, thought I'd try to pick it up someday."

"Why, because it's richman's sport?"

He grinned. "Maybe. But I'm not really that rich."

"Right." A quick google search had told you otherwise. You had done it when you and Ruben started texting more and more. The result was a little breathtaking. Ruben was really a big deal here in Portugal and in England as he represented an english football club called Manchester City. You bet a lot of girls would have been over the moon about it, one of them your sister, having someone famous interested in you. You, however, got a tad intrigued by the idea, especially after seeing how people treated you to arrive at the restaurant. Ruben had called to book a table just as you left Quarteira, and upon your arrival, a row of staff were ready to greet you, taking your order almost instantly. There were even some people, fans of Rubens, who approached your table, asking him to sign their golf caps.

"You look beautiful."

"Huh?" Your attention was brought back to the table where you found Ruben's eyes on you, a smile on his face as he eyed the clothes he bought you last night. It was a blue dress, nothing short of expensive. He seemed to have a taste for luxury as he had dressed up likewise, wearing designer shoes and expensive sunglasses.

"Does it fit?"

"The dress? Well….it's a bit short, don't you think."

He shook his head. "Nope. I think it's the perfect length."

You rolled your eyes but did not fail to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks.

"What do you say? The hotel next door has a beautiful rooftop bar with a live Dj. Should we check it out?"

You frowned. "You wanna spend a day like this getting sunburned on a rooftop bar?"

Ruben chuckled. "What else do you suggest we'd do?"

You were happily surprised when Ruben obliged as you blindly dragged him to the beach and towards the nearest boat rental, which Ruben happily paid for. He agreed to join you on a snorkeling trip off the coast of the Algarve. You had always loved snorkeling, and the thought of exploring the underwater world with Ruben really excited you. He was clearly out of his element but open-minded and eager to try.

Once you were in the water, you naturally took the lead, pointing out the different sea creatures and explaining the basics of snorkeling. Ruben was a quick learner and avid swimmer, and soon he was swimming alongside you, taking in the sights and sounds of the ocean.

As the sun began to set, you suggested that the two of you head back to the beach. But Ruben had other ideas. "Let's keep going," he said, his eyes sparkling with adventure. "I want to see more."

So you swam on, the water growing warmer and more tranquil as the night fell. You saw bioluminescent fish darting through the waves, even a couple of spot-finned pufferfish, which gave you an excuse to talk about your research. Ruben didn't seem to mind, though, as you ran your mouth. He listened attentively, regarding you with gentle admiration. Even asking you questions about it.

"So what now?"

The sun was set low on the sky. You and Ruben had steered the boat towards a secluded lagoon, surrounded by towering cliffs, filled with crystal-clear water. The two of you swam together, your bodies gliding through the water as you gazed up at the starry sky above.

"What now?" You shrugged.

Ruben swam towards you, the water sparkling around him. The wetsuits you had rented were left in the boat. The two of you swimming naked in the warm lagoon. Ruben's hands ran smoothly up your legs, stopping at the crease of your hip before slipping between your legs.

"God." You cried. His touch was rough but gentle.

"Your amazing Y/N." He spoke against the hill of your breast, where his mouth had latched itself as he admired the view of your naked body. "You're all I've ever wanted in a woman."

"Stop it." You giggled, feeling how his finger slipped inside of you, putting pressure on the roof of your walls. "Really Ruben, you're gonna make me cum too quick."

"Then come."

You let your head fall back with his words, and soon Ruben had inserted two wingers inside of you. His motion hard and fast, making your moans echo into the open space of the cave.

"You don't happen to be on your period again?" He chuckled.

"No. But I'm actually on the pill now."

Ruben's eyebrows raised against the silhouette of the sun. "So…I can fuck you without a condom again?"

You laughed at the way he said it, so eager and so boyish. "Yes, Ruben. Fuck me."

Your legs got draped around his waist, Ruben stood while you lay down, half of your body still in the water. He fucked you just like that, making waves of water splash around you. You went on by switching positions, with you pleasing Ruben with you mouth as he leaned back against the cave wall, guiding the movement of your head.

You were soft and pliant, not to mention hungry after such an eventful day. Making your way back to Ruben's car simply felt like walking on air.

"So how does this go? Do I pay you or send the money, Diogo?"

"Excuse me?" Ruben had driven you home back to Faro, his car parked outside of the driveway to your apartment. The following question he asked you was quite unexpected, the mentioning of Diogo violently striking your heart.

"Erm…it's what i did last time before we got on the yacht." Ruben stammered. "But since he's not here, I thought that I should pay you cash instead."

You shook your head. "I don't get it. The yacht? What did you pay for on the yacht?"

"Comeon Y/N." Ruben said, running a hand through his wet hair. "Don't make this more awkward than it already is. I mean, I had a really nice day with you. Llet me pay for your services."

You gasped, a sudden feeling of being light headed. "Sorry, I have to…." You stumbled out of Ruben's car, out in the cold night, making your way towards the apartment with uneven steps.

"Y/N, wait!"

Unfortunately, Ruben was fast to catch up with you, grabbing a hold of your arm. "What happened? Did I say something wrong?"

You yanked your arm out of his grip, urging him to keep his distance while you visible struggled to breath.

"Shit Y/N, are you okay?"

"Don't touch me!" You snapped. "Don't you ever fuckign touch me!"

"Hey, hey. What did I do wrong?"

"What didn't you do!" You shouted. "What the hell made you believe that I was offering myself to you for money?" Tears welled up in your eyes, the inability to cope overwhelming you.

"I…." Ruben had no words, his eyes helplessly searching your face. "I thought .....well, Diogo told my friend's…"

"Oh god, I think I'm gonna throw up." You bent over, supporting your hands on your knees.

"Y/N, are you telling me that you're not…."

"Of course I'm not!" You straighten your back.

"Fuck I….well this is bad. Really bad."

"You think?" You bent over again, wanting to throw up yourself worth, or at least the last of it.

"But your sister…?" Ruben said, careful to approach you. "I've heard about her. My friend said he recognized her from last summer."

"Ruben…" You said calmly, once again forcing yourself to meet his eyes. It really broke your heart seeing how clueless he looked. Nevertheless what he had done was unforgivable. "Get the fuck away from me before I call the police."

"But Y/N…"

"Fuck off!" You screamed, a scream that alerted the next door neighbor's dog. "I never want to see you again, got it?"

He didn't seem to get it. However, none of that mattered. You left him behind, running up to your apartment, not caring about the fact that it was still empty, your sister nowhere to be found. You made your way into the shower and let the cold water wash your sins away. There were no words in any dictionary that could possibly describe what you felt in that moment. All you wanted to do was to disappear, to crawl under the bed sheets and hide forever. So you did, at least for tonight.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine

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