#but if anyone wants them anyway lemme know x | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joelscruff · 1 year ago

Text

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART SEVEN

previous chapters | welp. it's here. this one is a DOOZY, and i'm so sorry. i never expected it to get this long but oh well!!! go grab a snack and get settled cause this one is kinda wild. love u guys sm. i proofread this very quickly so i apologize if there's any mistakes!! and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 chapter summary: the pressure is building in more ways than one. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), innocent/inexperienced reader, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, mentions of religion, catholic guilt, sexting, n00ds, oral (m receiving), lap-sitting, thigh riding, alcohol, lemme know if i missed any! word count: 15.6k ao3

You're beginning to learn that Joel runs hot and cold.

There have been moments with him, intimate and special and warm, moments that make you feel light on your feet and send butterflies wilding through your stomach. Moments where he's open and present and wants all his attention to be on you, on your body, your pleasure. His touch sets you alight, his words send tingles down your spine.

And then weekdays happen and you start second guessing yourself all over again.

On Sunday you'd attended church with your parents, another attempt at appeasing your mother in lieu of all the lies and deceit. You've only gone to a select few services since you came home, something you know they've been silently judging you for and just waiting to hold above your head. Admittedly you'd been afraid of bumping into people you knew, having to switch on your teenage persona of Good Catholic Girl™ and lie through your teeth about how good it feels to be back home again. Luckily in the few services you'd attended, you'd only run into some elderly family friends, managing to avoid anyone you went to high school with.

Your luck had to run out at some point, though. This service you'd been accosted by none other than Bethany, one of your childhood friends who you'd practically left in the dust when you'd gone away for college. Her friendship was always full of judgement, perfection, and not to mention heaps of Catholic guilt. She'd taken one look at you, appraising you up and down as if assessing you for imperfections, then pulled you into a tight hug.

"It's so good see you," she'd said when she'd pulled back, a wide - and borderline frightening - grin plastered on her face, "My momma told me you were back, thought I woulda heard from you by now!"

Your mother, standing beside you in your pew, had furrowed her brow at this, clearly confused. You hadn't understood her reaction completely until Bethany had headed off to go say hi to someone else.

"I thought you had lunch with her and Alice the other week," she'd murmured softly to you under her breath, giving you an accusatory look, "Said you'd be helping them out over the summer. That's what you told me, anyway."

Fuck.

"O-oh, right," you'd had no idea what else to say other than that, biting down on your lip and staring straight ahead as the service began. She hadn't said anything else about it, but you'd sat in discomfort and anxiety for the next hour.

In a panic, you'd found Bethany after the service and quickly asked if she needed any extra help at Sunday School, to which she'd responded with enthusiasm - a little too much - that they always needed extra hands on Thursdays to help with lesson planning. You'd jumped at the chance, telling her you'd be there.

That night you'd texted Joel. You hadn't heard from him all day despite it being a weekend, and part of you had been hoping you might go over and see him once your parents were asleep.

guess who's volunteering at church now? this idiot.

You'd expected words of comfort, maybe a joke, at least something that would make you feel better about the situation. However, his response to yours had been brief, short, simple:

Rough. Get some sleep x

This trend of short responses has only continued throughout the rest of the week. He's distant when you text him, responds with a few words at best, short and simple and almost like an entirely different person. It's hard to believe it's the same man who whispers good girl in your ear and tells you how well you're doing, how wet you are, how pretty you look. His texts are some ghostly version of him, constantly fading in and out, barely showing interest or desire - that is, if he texts you at all.

It makes your skin itch, sends your insecurities into a tailspin. Why does this always seem to happen? You can't make heads or tails of it - you know he's busy, know that his job takes a lot out of him, and yet you can't help but feel that there's something more he's not telling you. He'd told you on his back deck all about how he wasn't very happy at his job, how he'd prefer to be retired by now, living life on his own terms - so why can't he just do that? It's clearly taking a toll on him, and while part of you feels empathetic and yearns to comfort him, another part feels angry, irritated.

You'd gone to your friends with these concerns, hoping for some sort of answer or solution to the problem. Instead, they'd been more sympathetic to Joel's plight than yours.

you gotta remember you're not in a relationship with him babe

right!! men are v simple creatures. they see things black & white. ur his fuck buddy and he prob doesn't rly want it to go beyond that.

now THAT'S going too far. she's more than his fuck buddy definitely. he wouldn't have told her his whole life story last weekend if that were true.

telling her he had a fucked up childhood isn't necessarily his whole life story. most guys had shitty childhoods lbr

but he opened up!!!!! fuck buddies don't do that.

exactly

i wish you guys were here :(

i'm honestly 5 secs away from booking a flight to texas bestie. gotta use my dad's frequent flier miles somehow.

"My friend Tasha is coming to visit this weekend," you tell your mom on Wednesday evening with a smile, turning your phone toward her to show the Airbnb you'll be staying at, "We're gonna stay at this little bungalow, have a girls' weekend."

Her brow furrows, "Why can't Tasha stay here?"

Because Tasha would terrify you, you want to say, because Tasha doesn't wear pants unless absolutely necessary. Instead you just smile again and say, "I think a change of scenery would be good for me, it'll be like a mini vacation. Plus there's a hot tub."

"Now that's something we need," she turns back to her book with a shake of her head, "I swear, your father is more interested in buying that boat we'll never use instead of something new for the backyard." You hadn't been asking for her permission, but her indifference sends a wave of relief through you; you've still been trying to be on your absolute best behavior lately to make up for the lies.

You head out to the backyard and seat yourself in a lounge chair by the pool, unlocking your phone again and swiping to your last conversation with Joel from last night.

hope you had a good day :)

I'm sure yours was better. Sleep well x

Curt and to the point, not at all what you'd wanted him to reply with. You recall one of your first phone conversations, the one where you'd been experiencing the same lack of interest in his texts, what he'd said to you: Don't think for one second that I don't think about you. But how can you not? How are you supposed to feel desired when he's being like this?

can you call me tonight?

You try not to wait too long before biting the bullet, not wanting to talk yourself out of it, but you do stare at the message with your finger hovering over the send button for longer than you really need to. The sound of the back door sliding open forces you to send it, locking your phone again as your mother walks over and seats herself beside you in another chair.

"It's nice to see you wearing that again," she says with a nod to your chest, referring to your crucifix - after wearing it again last weekend you'd thought that keeping it on might please her. "You're starting to really settle in here again, aren't you?"

You try not to grimace, "Yeah, it's nice being home."

She leans back in her chair, letting the suns rays hit her for a little bit without speaking. You sit there waiting for her to say something else, discomfort flooding through you. You're reminded of how easy it was to sit with Joel in his backyard last weekend, how little pressure there was to put up any kind of front - sitting here with your mother is the exact opposite.

"So, you lied to me," she finally says, voice quiet.

Your eyes widen and you sit up a bit, turning to her with panic already rising in your throat, "Wh-what do you mean?"

She doesn't turn to look at you, continuing to stare at the sky, eyes covered by her comically large sunglasses, "You know what I mean."

You sit there, staring at her with a mix of confusion and fear. There's no way she knows about Joel, how could she know? Who would have told her? You wonder if perhaps one of her neighborhood friends saw you leaving his house, saw you in his car... but the guise of lessons is your cover now, so how would any of that point to your relationship?

Some relationship, you can't help but think to yourself, based entirely on sex and only communication on the weekends.

"Bethany and Alice," your mom finally states, and you feel the panic in the pit of your stomach loosen immediately - oh.

"Mom," you say immediately, shaking your head, "I-I know. I'm sorry. I know I told you we met up but..." you bite your lip, trying to come up with some kind of excuse but coming up empty.

Instead, you do something that surprises you entirely - you tell the truth. Or at least... half of it.

"I really feel like my friendship with them has passed," you admit with a frown, "I'm... I'm different than I was when I left, you know that, don't you? I'm sure you've noticed."

She's still not looking at you but you catch her nodding slowly, thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry I lied but... I didn't want to disappoint you. And I didn't want you to worry about me being alone all the time. I'm actually rarely ever alone at college so it's been nice to have some time to myself," you smile, thinking of the girls in your group chat constantly waiting for new updates, "Having lunch with two people I haven't talked to in years just... didn't seem appealing to me. I have different friends now, you know? I'm older, people outgrow each other."

"Friends like Tasha," your mom states, bitterness in her voice, "Tasha who you don't even want me to meet."

You make a face, "Mom..."

She puts her hands up in defeat, shaking her head, "It's fine. You can do what you want and so can she," the words are drenched in judgement, "But you should remember that there are rules for staying here, young lady. And honesty is one of those rules."

You take a deep breath, swinging your legs around the edge of the chair and placing your arms on your knees, your face in your hands. You're so close to snapping back at her, making a comment that'll surely start an argument, but you shove it back down as best you can, counting to ten in your head.

"I'm sorry," you finally say through gritted teeth, "It won't happen again."

"It better not." She stands up then, disappears from the chair as quickly as she'd settled in it. You watch as she walks to the back door again, reaches for the handle.

Your mouth can't stop itself.

"Have you told Dad about my guitar lessons yet?"

She freezes, turns and stares at you for a moment without saying anything, then opens the door and heads back inside, slamming it behind her.

Checkmate.

I will when I get home.

Your anxiety is through the roof as you pace back and forth in your bedroom after darkness has fallen, freshly showered and pampered and already out of distractions. Without really thinking much about it, you pull Joel's flannel from under your mattress and wrap it around your shoulders, breathing him in as you sit on your bed and try your best not to keep checking your phone. When it finally vibrates you're not even embarrassed when you pick up on the first ring.

"Hey," you murmur, settling into your sheets and closing your eyes, "Is everything okay?"

"With me?" he asks, voice tired and gruff, "Thought it'd be the other way around."

Your brow furrows, "What do you mean?"

"Thought you'd wanna talk about this church volunteerin' stuff," he's moving around as he talks - you hear the sound of a cupboard banging and the clang of a glass against a countertop.

You don't speak for a moment, listening to the sound of liquid being poured into a cup and Joel taking a swig. There's no sound of the tap - you'd be willing to bet that it's not water he's drinking.

"No, I..." you frown, "I was worried about you."

You hear him take another sip, swallowing loudly and then placing the cup back down with a clink. More pouring. You swear you hear the faint sound of a chuckle before he takes another swig.

"Well that's silly," he states, and you suddenly notice there's a strange difference in his voice, a heaviness you're not used to.

"Are you drunk?"

He chuckles again but there's no humor in it, "Nowhere near as drunk as I'd like to be."

You frown, readjusting yourself against the pillows. You hear him take another sip, "Did something happen?"

He sighs then, deep and tired. You hear him put the glass back down on the counter, "No, babygirl, nothin' happened," hearing him say your pet name makes you feel a little better, the anxiety ebbing away a bit, "It's just that my job is the bane of my fuckin' existence."

He sounds genuinely exhausted, words tinged with resentment. You pull his flannel tighter around yourself, breathe him in, pretend you're in the same room as him, "Talk to me," you say softly, "Tell me what's wrong."

He doesn't reply for a moment - you can make out some footsteps on the other end, the creak of his stairs as he goes up to his bedroom, "No, darlin', it's nothin'. Shouldn't be talkin' about this with you."

"Hey, if something's bothering you, I wanna hear about it. I wanna make it better... if I can."

You hear him settle onto his bed, a satisfied little noise emanating from his throat that makes you smile, "That's the thing, babygirl. You can't. This is just the way life works. You do shit you hate and then you die, plain and simple."

"Joel," you admonish quietly - it's the first time you've said his name aloud since last weekend, it feels right on your lips, safe. He sighs but doesn't say anything else, breath evening out in your ear. "What is it? Really? I've been worrying about it all week."

"Oh honey," he murmurs softly. "Shouldn't be worryin' about me, there are more important things."

"Not to me," you admit, closing your eyes and shaking your head even though he can't see you, "First I thought maybe you were just busy, but-"

"Busy," he scoffs, "Right, yeah, busy. That's my middle name at this point. Fuckin' busy."

He really doesn't sound like himself - you know you still don't know him very well at this point, could be wrong about so many things, but part of you just knows that this isn't Joel. You know his softness, his safety, his kind eyes and crooked smile. This version of him sounds so sad; you can't help but wish you were in his bed right now, able to hold him close and run your fingers through his grey curls. You want him to open up to you.

"You don't wanna hear this shit, angel, you don't," he continues, voice gentler this time, "I know you're thinkin' somethin' is wrong, thinkin' somethin' in particular happened to make me feel like this, but the truth is..." he sighs again, deliberates for a moment and then simply states, "Truth is I'm just bein' stupid."

"You're not stupid," you say immediately, and he chuckles.

"God, you're so sweet, babygirl," he murmurs softly, "It's nice to hear your voice."

Your feel your skin heat up at the words, crossing your legs together unconsciously, "It's nice to hear yours too," you whisper with a smile, "I've missed you this week. Every time you've texted me it's felt like it's not really you."

"I'm sorry, baby," you can hear the sincerity in his voice buried underneath the tiredness and alcohol, "I'm just... I'm a mess." You hear him shuffle a bit in bed, like he's turning onto his side, "Work is always puttin' me in a shitty mood lately and I just...I don't want you to see this side of me."

"But why?"

Another sigh, then-

"'Cause I don't want you to look at me differently."

You bring the sleeve of his flannel to your lips, "I could never look at you differently, Joel," you whisper, "Promise."

He's quiet for a moment and you hope you haven't upset him, hope he's just thinking about what to say. You mean your words; it really would take a lot for you to look at him differently. You know you probably shouldn't feel that way considering you've known him less than a month, that the feeling should scare you... but it doesn't.

"I'm tired, angel," he finally says, voice sad and distant, "I'm too old to be doin' this job."

You wait for him to speak again, listening as he takes a shaky breath on the other end of the line, almost like he hasn't told anyone this. And maybe he hasn't.

"But it's hard to admit that to myself," he continues, "And even harder to admit it to you of all people. I don't want you to see some washed up, tired, old geezer, ya know?" he says it with humor but you can tell that he means it, "I mean I used to... god, I used to be able to do shifts like this no problem. Be up at five and home by midnight and able to do it all over again the next day. Now it's like I'm runnin' on a half empty tank of gas. Got no joy in this job anymore and my back is killin' me and-" he cuts himself off suddenly, "And I need to shut the fuck up before I scare you away."

"You're not gonna scare me away," you whisper, and you mean it, "I'm not going anywhere."

He laughs softly to himself; you're not sure if he believes you, but you're choosing to hope that he does, "Ya know, I didn't even wanna tell you my age when we were first together? I wasn't gonna tell you, I really wasn't. But then you were so sweet and vulnerable and honest with me-"

You scoff, "Yeah, lying about knowing how to play guitar, that's certainly honesty."

"That's not what I mean and you know it," he chastises - you can hear the sudden smile in his voice, "No, darlin'... when you told me you hadn't done anythin' before. That's when I knew I had to tell you, 'cause it wouldn't have been right otherwise," he makes an odd noise in his throat and then corrects, "Not that any of this is really right, but..."

"It feels right," you say softly, staring down at the plaid lines on the flannel shirt shrouding your body, reminding you of what it means - that you're his.

"It does," he agrees, voice rough and low, "Right and wrong in all the right ways, huh babygirl?"

You nod to yourself, unable to help the grin that spreads across your face, "Exactly."

The both of you are silent for a few moments but just like last weekend, it isn't uncomfortable or awkward. It's calming and safe, just listening to each other's breathing. You can tell he's tired, can hear it in his slow exhales; again, you can't help but wish you were lying beside him. And you can't help but wonder if a more sober Joel would have even said any of this to you, would have just kept it to himself and continued to deal with it in silence, not bothering to tell anyone how he's been feeling. It breaks your heart a little bit.

"It'll be okay," you whisper gently, soothingly, "It won't be like this forever, Joel."

He sighs, deep and sleepy, "You really are an angel," he murmurs, "So sweet and lovely, babygirl. Love hearin' you say my name like that."

His words send warmth throughout your body - no one has ever spoken to you the way Joel speaks to you, makes you feel the way he makes you feel. You close your eyes and bury your face in the sleeve of his flannel, listen as his breathing gets slow again.

"You should get some sleep," you whisper, even though you really don't want to end the call - but Joel is tired and you want him to feel better, "Text me tomorrow, okay? Even if you're grumpy."

He almost laughs but he's so close to sleep that it comes out slurred and low, "Okay, baby, I will. Promise."

"Goodnight, J-"

"Wait wait wait," he suddenly sounds a bit more alert, rousing himself from sleep, "You didn't tell me 'bout this church thing. You okay with it?"

You giggle at his sudden concern, "It's nothing, really. Just helping an old friend out with lesson plans for Sunday School. Not very exciting."

"Fun," his voice is sleepy and low again, "What're you gonna wear?"

You have to bite down on your lip to stifle another laugh, shaking your head even though he can't see you, "Go to bed, you perv."

He chuckles, "Okay, okay. Goodnight, angel."

"Goodnight, Joel."

You're about to end the call when you hear him murmur one final thing, so soft you're surprised you can even make it out - but you do:

"Hope I dream about you."

You fall asleep with a smile glued to your lips.

You end up wearing the same outfit you'd worn to Joel's last Saturday, though you leave the stockings at home; you doubt the women at church will be offended by your bare legs. You fasten your crucifix around your neck and make sure your mom gets a good look at you before you leave the house; you haven't spoken since yesterday afternoon but you still want her to see you're putting in some effort, as surface level as it may be.

She's in the living room when you come down the stairs, and her expression can't help but turn to one of surprise when she looks up from her book to see you standing there in your Sunday best.

"I'm going to the church," you explain softly, "Gonna help out Bethany with the lesson plan for Sunday School."

She assesses you up and down, eyes fixing on your crucifix for a moment before trailing back down to her book. She doesn't say a word.

Silent treatment. Typical.

Fifteen minutes later you find yourself being greeted by Bethany, blonde hair flowing down her dress as she stands outside the church with a bright smile plastered on her face. You recognize the forced expression immediately, one that you yourself have become an expert in feigning, though for different reasons. You haven't seen her in years but you still know her well enough to tell when she's less than thrilled about something - this time that "something" is you being there.

"I'm so excited you're here!" she tells you, voice shrill as she immediately takes a step forward to envelop you in a haphazard hug that feels neither excited nor genuine.

You should have known it would be like this. When you'd left for college a few years ago you'd promised to keep in touch with both Alice and Bethany, the only "solid" friends you'd managed to keep throughout all the studying, the tutoring, the church services, the extracurriculars, volunteering, etc. It's a miracle in itself that your friendship had even lasted through high school, if you're being honest. You'd begun to distance yourself from them a bit in those final years as you started to lose your faith while theirs only seemed to grow stronger. Leaving for college had been the last nail in the coffin.

"Me too!" you lie, feigning a similar smile as you both pull back from each other.

Though her grin is unrelenting, you can see the distance in her eyes, the sourness and disdain for your presence extremely evident. She doesn't like you. There's an awkward few seconds of silence where she assesses you up and down again, like she had at the service on Sunday.

Why did you even say yes to me coming here? You want to ask as you stand in front of her awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. If you didn't want me here you could have just said there wasn't anything for me to do. But you already know why you'd still been invited despite her obvious disdain for you - keeping up appearances means everything to these people; actually being honest about her feelings would have been disastrous for her reputation.

"Was sure you'd forgotten all about me," she finally says with an edge of malice still shrouded through her smile, "Haven't heard from you in what? Three years? And then you just show up outta the blue, huh?"

You grimace, "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. There was... I mean, I've just had a lot going on, I guess." You kick your feet awkwardly; this is not the conversation you want to be having right now.

"A lot goin' on, huh?" she echoes, eyes still scanning you up and down, "Right. Busy with college?"

You nod quickly, "Yeah, it's been kinda crazy."

She raises an eyebrow, "What are you studyin' again?"

"English Lit."

She snorts then, shaking her head and taking a step back, "Right. Reading. Sure sounds crazy."

Your brow furrows, "It's more than that."

"Oh, I'm sure it is," she puts her hands up in defense, fake laughing and smacking her lips together, "Just find it funny that an English Lit degree takes up so much of your time." She's being pretty bold with the sarcasm but you suppose she has a right to be angry, though you'd never assumed she'd be this pissed about you cutting her off, "Anyway, we should get inside, they're waitin' for us."

"Bethany," you take a step toward her, softening your expression, "I'm really sorry."

She just shakes her head again and turns away from you to reach for the handle on the front door, forced smile finally fading into a natural frown, "Forget it."

Great start.

You don't talk much after that, not after you're led into a side room off the chapel where a few other women are sitting in a circle with binders in their laps. Bethany simply gestures for you sit down in an empty chair and the meeting begins. Everyone immediately begins their rapport, discussing their plans and reading quotes aloud from their binders while you just kind of sit there unsure of what to do or say. A few of the women give you a tentative smile or two, but the way Bethany periodically glares at you is enough to keep them from actually speaking to you directly. You're okay with it though; as awkward as this is, you'd rather sit in silence than have to pretend. Still, if you'd known it would be like this you never would have come - it's not like your mother appreciates it anyway.

Your phone vibrates at one point, a text from Tasha confirming her flight information with lots of !!!!!!'s that make you smile. As if sensing your sudden mood shift, Bethany puts her hands up with another grin that doesn't reach her eyes.

"We keep phones in our purses" she says sweetly, "So we don't get distracted."

You nod and slip it back inside your bag, a gesture that's more of a peace offering than anything else; it seems to appease her.

It's strange being inside this part of the church again after so long. You'd attended your own Sunday School lessons here, prepped for choir and readings, learned your scripture. It certainly doesn't feel as safe or inviting as it once did, though you have to admit that there was always an undercurrent of pressure, of judgement - an energy that still remains today. Bethany watches you closely, quietly assessing you as you nod along to everyone's suggestions and ideas and try to keep up your long-time façade of obedience. You push down the new parts of you that long to take back a bit of control, maybe say something shocking or suggest something ridiculous just to see how they'd react.

You've been sitting in silence for about forty five minutes when Bethany announces its time for a quick phone break. Like clockwork everyone in the room pulls out their devices and starts checking for missed calls from their kids, their husbands. You pull yours out and your eyebrows go up in surprise when you see a text from Joel on your lockscreen:

How's your day going angel?

He didn't forget his promise. A smile plays at your lips as you start typing out your reply, but it quickly fades when you feel Bethany's eyes on you, watching.

"I'm, uh-" you stand up, smoothing out the creases in your dress and gripping your phone tightly, "I'm gonna take a bathroom break."

The bathroom is the same as you remember it, high ceilings and white walls, your footsteps echoing loudly as you walk over to the sinks and lean your back against the countertop. You continue typing out your reply to Joel:

well all the church ladies are giving me the silent treatment til i'm worthy of being here again lol. but jokes on them cause my mom is also giving me the silent treatment so i have training! anyway i miss you. wanna hug you. hope you're feeling a bit better today 💕

You turn around and face the mirror while you wait for his reply. You're still smiling - it's impossible not to when you're thinking about Joel, but this smile is bright and genuine, unlike the forced grins you've been sharing with Bethany for the past hour. God, you can't remember the last time anything made you feel as free and happy as Joel makes you, like nothing else really matters. Your phone buzzes and you tear your eyes away from the mirror to read his reply:

Aw baby I'm sorry. I wanna hug you too. Wanna do a bit more than hug if I'm being honest, but you know that already.

You bring your other hand up to your mouth, smiling even wider into it as his typing bubble pops up again only seconds later:

And I'm sorry about last night. If I said anything stupid please forget it ever happened. Me and alcohol don't mix that well sometimes. I'm alright, don't worry about me x

But I do worry, you want to say, I want to make you feel better. But how can you do that from a church bathroom, miles away from wherever he is right now? You're suddenly reminded of something he'd told you a few weeks ago, something you hadn't quite understood in the moment - You can text me whenever you want, tell me all about what you're doin', brighten up my workday. Maybe send me some pictures.

Oh.

You look at yourself in the mirror again and carefully place your phone down on the edge of the sink. Your hand slowly comes up to push aside the collar of your dress, pull the stretchy material past your shoulder and down your arm. You do the same to the other side, slipping out of your sleeves and tugging down the high neckline of your dress to expose your bare chest to the mirror, putting your cleavage on display. You bite your lip, willing yourself to see what Joel sees, a pretty girl in a pretty dress, bra straps clinging to her skin and a crucifix hanging from her throat. Filthy.

You grab your phone and turn it toward the mirror, opening up your camera app and moving it close enough so he can see only your torso, sleeves hanging limp at your sides while your other arm comes up to squeeze your breasts together a bit, accentuating your cleavage even more. You snap a pic and send it to him before you can talk yourself out of it.

He replies seconds later:

Fuck

A grin spreads across your face and you make quick work of slipping your bra straps down your shoulders as well, just as another text from him comes in:

Send me another baby. Please.

Already one step ahead of you, you think to yourself as your cheeks warm and you pull down the cups of your bra, your breasts spilling out into the cool air of the bathroom. You squeeze them together again, nipples hardening tightly as you take another picture and send it along with a coy message:

better?

He must be staring at his phone, waiting for it, because his typing bubble appears instantaneously. You can't help but feel a sense of pride at the power you're holding right now, a change of pace from your usual naivety.

Oh babygirl. This is just what I needed.

i know :)

You glance at the bathroom door and then at the time - you still have a few minutes before the meeting starts up again and your mind is already racing with what you can do with those few minutes. With barely any hesitation you tug your dress up over your thighs, pulling your panties to the side and aiming your phone underneath. You frown when you pull your phone back up to find that it's dark and blurry.

"Hold on," you whisper to no one, then carefully lift your leg and place your heel on the countertop for support, pulling your dress up again and aiming your phone a little better. You pull back your panties and aren't surprised in the slightest to feel that they're suddenly damp.

This picture comes out much better. Your pussy is bare and a little wet, clit poking out past your lips, panties pulled against your inner thigh. You already know it's gonna make him crazy as you hit send.

Jesus Christ

He's already typing something else when you receive it and you can't help but giggle, covering your mouth and trying to picture where he is right now, what he's doing. Is he in a bathroom too? On a break? Or is he in the middle of a job, surrounded by other people? The latter thought makes you even wetter somehow.

Fuck you have such a pretty pussy baby.

thank you mr. miller :)

Will you hold her open a little for me? Show me that sweet little hole?

Who are you to deny such a request? With heat radiating all over your body you bring your phone down again and scissor your lips apart, exposing the innermost part of yourself to your phone camera. You can feel your own slick on the tips of your fingers, and when you push yourself open you feel a bit of your wetness dribble down onto your palm. Fuck. This is hotter than you'd expected it would be. You'd thought it would be a good way to make him feel better, get him through his work day like he'd said; you never thought you'd enjoy it this much.

Oh sweetheart. Look at that.

You feel another rush of pride as you take your leg down from the counter and tug your dress back down, rubbing your thighs together and doing everything in your power not to touch yourself again even though you want to. A quiet whimper unconsciously tears itself past your lips at his follow-up message:

Who's that perfect pussy belong to babygirl?

You've never typed a message back so fast in your life.

you. it's yours mr. miller.

That's right. Good girl.

Your skin is on fire, body tingling in all the right places. You smooth a hand down your bare chest, cup one of your breasts, gently squeeze. It's impossible for your eyes not to roll back a bit when you imagine Joel's hand on you instead, big and firm and callused and perfect. Your pussy throbs in your underwear and another whimper slips past your lips.

i'm really wet now :(

I know angel. Come over tonight and I'll take care of it, Ok?

Your heart leaps at the invitation, even more wetness pooling in your panties at the thought of what Joel might want to do tonight, if there's another “lesson” he has in mind.

yes please

Eyeing the time again, you bite your lip in disappointment when you realize you should probably be getting back. You wait until Joel has finished typing his final response, a message that makes your skin burn with anticipation:

Don't touch yourself til you see me. Keep that soft little pussy hidden, baby. Promise me.

i promise x

Just as you hit send you suddenly hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps down the hall, quickly approaching the bathroom. Your eyes widen in the mirror, gaze snapping to your bare breasts, sleeves still hanging loosely at your sides. In a panic you hurriedly attempt to stuff yourself back into your bra before you have company – but you're not that lucky.

The bathroom door bangs open and you freeze with one arm halfway through your sleeve, breasts still completely exposed in the mirror as you turn on the spot to see none other than Bethany standing there, frozen in place.

“I-” she looks flabbergasted, expression one of pure horror as she takes a step back from you and grips the knob of the door like she could rip it off at any moment. Your free arm that isn't trapped in a sleeve comes up to cover yourself as best you can, but you know she's already seen everything.

“I'm- I was just-” You're similarly taken aback and at a complete loss for words, unsure how the fuck you can explain what exactly she's just walked in on.

Her eyes fall to the phone in your hand, like she's putting the pieces together, then she shakily takes another step back and leaves without saying another word, the click of her heels echoing back at you loudly until the door finishes closing behind her.

Shit.

You don't have time to stand around thinking up an excuse; you do briefly consider escaping through one of the windows to avoid facing her, but you know it would just delay the inevitable. Instead you hastily finish pulling your dress back on and stare at yourself in the mirror for one final moment.

Your smile is gone. So is the light in your eyes. You suddenly begin to feel that familiar sense of guilt creeping in, the shame, the sin. You blink a few times and find that there are tears welling up in your eyes, a lump in your throat. A tiny voice in the back of your mind, one you've been attempting to mute for years, whispers to you: What have you done?

Bethany doesn't speak to or look at you for the rest of the meeting. It's not much of a change from before you'd gone to the bathroom, but there's something new in her silence now, something you can see in her eyes as she stares down at her binder while the other women talk. Fear. You've known her for most of your life, can sense certain mood changes from a mile away; you've frightened her. And somehow that just adds even more to the guilt building in your stomach.

You'll apologize to her after the meeting, it's all you can do. You genuinely feel horrible that she'd walked in on something so private, seen something she never intended or desired to ever see. You wonder if there's anything you can use to pass off as an excuse; maybe you spilled something on your dress and were cleaning it off? Maybe it was too tight and you needed a breather? Anything is better than the alternative – the truth – but you somehow doubt she'll believe anything you say at this point. That bridge was broken the second you left for college; there's no repairing it now.

The meeting ends with a few pleasantries exchanged and several comments about picking kids up from school, getting home to cook something for dinner, normal things that remind you how abnormal your own situation is in comparison. Half an hour ago you'd felt on top of the world, in control, had power in the tips of your fingers. Now you just feel small again, inconsequential.

You wait until the other ladies have left before taking a step toward Bethany, ready to unload your apologies and beg for forgiveness. She surprises you by speaking first.

"I'd think twice before wearing that again,” she hisses at you, venomous and pointed. Your eyes widen.

"Excuse me?"

"I said,” her words are slow and full of bitter intention, eyes glaring daggers at you, “I'd think twice before wearing that again" she gestures to the crucifix around your neck and you unconsciously reach up to take it between your fingers, glancing down at it before looking back up to meet her angry gaze.

“I'm...” you feel overwhelmed, tears pricking in your eyes again at the sudden burst of rage being directed at you, “I don't...”

"You might not understand this,” she practically spits through her teeth, “but that symbol actually means something to the people here."

"I know what it means.” It comes out as barely a whisper, voice shaky as she takes an intimidating step toward you with nothing but malice in her expression.

"So that's why you've got your breasts out in a public bathroom? A church bathroom?”

“Bethany, I-”

“You're not welcome here anymore, understand?” her voice is full of finality, “You can come to church with your parents-” The mention of your parents sends your anxiety into a tailspin, heart beating frantically in your chest as she continues to step closer and closer toward you, “And you can pretend you're their good little girl. But I know the truth. And it's not welcome in my Sunday School ever again. Got it?”

My Sunday school. The superiority complex is strong and you know deep down that this is all completely rooted in her own fears, her own desires, her pride, but none of that seems to matter when she's staring you down like this, holding you captive with her hostile words.

"Got it,” you whisper, nodding shakily.

"Good. Now go home and take," she points toward the crucifix, the tip of her finger close enough to faintly brush against the shape of it, “that,” she suddenly prods it, giving you one final sneer, “off.”

It takes you twenty minutes to leave the parking lot after that, tears blurring your vision as you cry in your car and try not to let the shame completely envelop you.

Going to Joel's that night carries none of the anticipation you'd felt earlier this afternoon; instead you feel nothing but shame as you steal your mother's house key from its dish in the hallway, closing the front door behind you as softly as you can and hurrying out into the night. There's no excitement or rush like the last time you'd done this. You feel like you could cry at any moment as you approach Joel's house, climbing his front steps with a heavy weight on your shoulders that wasn't there before, that hasn't been there in weeks.

The door opens before you can even turn the knob – he must have been watching from his window, waiting for you in anticipation for tonight's “lesson”. Your stomach lurches.

“There's my little Sunday School girl,” he murmurs, taking your hand and tugging you gently inside.

“Please don't call me that,” you say quietly, head down.

He shuts the door behind you and takes your hands in his – you can feel his eyes on you but you're unsure of the look on his face, what expression is on it. Does he sense there's something wrong? Or is he waiting for you to jump his bones?

“Hey,” his voice is soft, concerned, “Hey, look at me, sweetheart.”

You shake your head, still staring at the floor.

“What happened, babygirl?” he murmurs, one of his hands releasing yours to come up and stroke your cheek gently, thumb grazing the wetness beneath your eyes, “Why're you cryin', darlin'? C'mere.” His finger travels down to your chin, pushes your face up to look at him.

His expression is worried, brow furrowed and forehead creased, a frown playing at his lips. You feel your heartbeat slow, the weight on your shoulders decreasing just a little bit as safety settles in your bones. He cares.

“I had a horrible day,” you whisper, feeling tears trickle down into the corners of your mouth, “I know you want to...want to...” you shake your head, “Whatever we were gonna do. But I don't think I can tonight, Joel. I don't feel good.”

“Oh, babygirl,” he breathes, releasing your chin and immediately wrapping you up in his embrace, arms tightening around you as he pulls you against his chest, “We don't have to do anythin', don't even worry about that.”

You bury your face in his chest, breathe him in. His flannel underneath your mattress is nothing compared to the real thing, the real smell of him overtaking your senses and filling you with a true feeling of warmth and safety. His arms are so big – he's so big – and without meaning to you find yourself going completely limp in his arms, bones turning to jelly. It's like finally breathing in the fresh air after holding your breath underwater, a natural reaction to finally being where you belong.

He doesn't question your body's response, almost seems to understand completely as he pulls you up from the floor and adjusts you slightly to cradle you in his arms, carrying you past the living room, past the kitchen, up the stairs and to his bedroom. You just close your eyes and bury your face in his shirt, inhale the scent of sawdust and sweat and cedar and Joel.

He tips you gently onto his bed, presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before settling in beside you without saying anything. You feel his arm wrap around you, tug you in closer beside him as he noses your hair and lets you just exist.

Minutes pass before you finally break the comfortable silence, voice quiet and small - “I feel so ashamed.”

You feel his brow furrow in your hair and you turn around to face him, bringing your arm up around his torso and pressing your hand firmly against his back. He looks at you with confusion, concern.

You tell him everything. About Bethany, your friendship with her and Alice before you left for college, the way you'd already begun to lose your faith even then. You tell him about your mom, about the silent treatment and her reaction to the white lie, the lie that's practically nothing in the grand scheme of deceit you've been weaving these past few weeks. You talk about church and Sunday School and all the guilt you'd felt in that little room growing up, how being there again felt wrong and uncomfortable. You tell him how free you'd felt in the bathroom with your camera, the power you'd felt, reclaimed, and how all of it had been snatched away from you the second Bethany had entered. How she'd destroyed any semblance of confidence you'd been able to find today, how she'd shamed you for the crucifix that you don't even want to be wearing. It's the most you've ever told him, the most you've ever talked to him about anything.

And he listens.

He doesn't seem put out by your venting, annoyed or irritated or ready to send you home at any minute. He just nods, frowns at the right moments, strokes your arm and your cheek, kisses your forehead when you start to cry. Wipes the tears away when you apologize for crying. He stays with you and remains present and attentive, lets you talk and talk until you start to apologize for how much you've been talking.

“I know this isn't even what you signed up for,” you blubber, shaking your head and bringing your hands up to cover your face, “I'm sorry I keep bringing so much- so many complications into your life.”

“Shh,” he soothes, placing his large hands on yours and pulling them away from your tired eyes, leaning in to brush his nose against yours, “Stop apologizin', baby. Stop. You've got nothin' to be sorry for.”

You suddenly sit up in bed, leaning back against the headboard and bringing a hand up to touch the crucifix still clasped around your neck. You hadn't taken it off like she'd told you to do; you'd felt like doing so would have made you weak, would have been like giving up, even though you'd never wanted to even wear it again in the first place.

“Why does this little thing have so much fucking power over me?” you ask aloud, not directed at Joel but more-so to yourself, “My whole life, no one has ever seen me, they've just seen this.” You shake your head, squeezing the tiny cross in your hand. “And wearing it again has just brought all that shit back, it's done absolutely nothing good. Wore it for my mom and she still gives me the silent treatment. Wore it for Bethany and she still treats me like garbage, tells me to take it off. It's just a fucking necklace.”

Joel sits up beside you, places a warm hand on your thigh and peers at you with those soft brown eyes, lulling you back into a sense of calm, of serenity.

“Give it to me,” he says quietly.

Your brow furrows in confusion. You stare at him for a moment, then watch as he carefully brings his hands up to graze his callused fingertips against your neck, brushing the chain.

“I'll take it off your hands for a bit,” he murmurs, “Outta sight, outta mind. And if you want it back, I'll have it ready for you. How's that sound?”

You nod slowly to yourself, feeling your eyes begin to sting again at his words, “...Good. Th-that sounds good.”

Without saying anything else you hear the sound of the clasp being undone, feel the chain slip away from your skin as Joel takes it from you. You turn your head to watch as he fists it in his palm for a moment, gaze thoughtful and faraway as he traces the shape of the cross with his thumb. A few seconds later he opens his bedside table and carefully places it inside, then shuts the drawer.

And just like that, the weight is gone.

You take a shower in his bathroom again, wanting to wash this day off you and start over, clean slate. You could have had one when you got home from the meeting earlier but you'd instead opted to just lay in bed feeling sorry for yourself for much longer than you'd needed to. Now you close your eyes and let the hot water envelop you, wash yourself with Joel's body wash and allow yourself to become his again, picturing him laying in his bed in the other room, waiting for you. This is what matters. This moment. Right now.

You enter his bedroom wrapped in one of his towels, drops of water still spilling down your skin onto the hardwood floor. He's sitting up in bed, shirtless with his legs hidden under the covers. He's seemingly deep in thought as he stares at his phone screen, brows scrunched together. You watch as he pulls the phone away from himself, eyes squinting and lips parting a bit, then pulls it back, like he can't see what he's looking at properly. You realize that's probably the case.

“You need glasses,” you say with a soft giggle, and his expression relaxes when he sees you standing there, phone going back on his nightstand.

“I have glasses,” he admits sheepishly, giving you a tender smile, “Just hate wearin' 'em.”

“Of course,” you roll your eyes and take a few steps forward, still gripping the towel around yourself. His eyes fall to the parts of you that are bare, revelling in the way the lamplight reflects on your wet skin. You feel tingles erupt through your senses under his gaze.

“Are you naked?” you ask softly.

He shakes his head, “Wearin' pants, don't worry.”

You stand there for a moment, staring. He just stares back, eyebrows going up a bit while he waits for you to say something else. When you don't, he tilts his head slightly, appraising you.

“Do you want me to be naked, babygirl?”

You're answering before you even really know what you want, "Yes."

Without needing to be told twice he reaches under the covers with both hands and shimmies his way out of his pajama bottoms, staying hidden under the sheets as he tosses them out onto the floor. You bite your lip, still just standing there staring at him without moving. You're still dripping everywhere, a little puddle of water forming at your feet the longer you stay frozen.

He raises his finger and playfully curls it toward himself with a smile, "C'mere, baby," he murmurs, "Be naked with me."

You don't need telling twice either.

The towel drops from your body, landing in the puddle of water on the floor - easy cleanup. You feel heat radiating through every inch of your bare skin as you walk toward the bed, avoiding Joel's eyes and quickly slipping in beside him. You really don't know what you're doing - you'd said when you got here that you didn't want to do anything, not tonight, and it's still true. But part of you just aches to be close to Joel, to feel his warm heat, his rough skin, be connected to him somehow. It's what you've wanted all week.

You inch in beside him, back against the headboard, your bare thigh touching his lightly beneath the sheets, and you find yourself tensing up unconsciously. He clocks your reaction immediately.

"You don't gotta be nervous, angel," he tells you softly, soothingly.

You swallow and take a deep breath, "It's hard not to be," you whisper, though there's no reason to, "I'm just... I'm so..."

"What?" he asks, brown eyes seeking yours in the dim light. His hand comes up to cradle your face, thumb swiping beneath your eye again like he's checking for more tears - luckily you're feeling much better in that department.

You sigh, shrugging slightly, "I don't know what I'm doing," your eyes fall down to the duvet, knowing that if you pulled it back you'd see your bodies touching underneath, his rough and tan skin pressed against yours, soft and untouched, "I mean, I don't even know why I came tonight. I knew I didn't- that I didn't want to-" you sigh again in frustration, unable to find the right words, "I just... I missed you," your eyes travel back up to meet his, "I just wanted to be near you."

His expression softens, still stroking your cheek as he peers into your eyes, "You feel safe with me, don't you?" You nod. "You know I won't do anythin' you don't want me to do, right?" Another nod. "So it's okay to just relax when you're with me."

You grimace, "How can I relax when we're naked in bed together?"

He chuckles, dropping his hand from your face and shuffling down into the bed a bit, away from the headboard, "Okay, time for another lesson."

You feel your heart sink again, worried that he's not understanding - probably because you can't explain it right - but he smiles reassuringly at you and curls his finger slightly, urging you to follow him downwards. With a quiet inhale you slowly inch away from the headboard and further down into the bed, beneath the duvet. You both stop moving when your heads hit the pillows, laying down fully beside each other.

"Gettin' naked doesn't always mean there has to be sex," he says softly, and you watch as he very slowly brings his hand down beneath the duvet; you know where it's going before it touches you, but you still shiver when you feel his fingers brush lightly against your bare arm, "Us bein' naked in bed together doesn't mean anythin' has to happen."

"But earlier today I said..." you trail off, shaking your head, "I promised that-"

"Earlier is earlier," he brushes your arm again, tender and comforting, "Circumstances change, your day got shitty. Mine was no better. It happens."

His hand travels downward, toward the skin of your hip. He curls his palm around your bare flesh and gently massages it, thumb stroking the edge of your tummy. It's intimate and new, but somehow it feels more safe and comforting than sexual, like he's simply doing something casual, normal.

"Sometimes you just wanna lay in bed with someone" he murmurs, still touching you tenderly, "No expectations, no pressure. No nothin'. Sure, it's fun to touch each other and be together like that, but if you just wanna sleep..." his fingertips brush your back gently, then press firmly into your skin as he pulls you a bit closer toward him, "If you just wanna lay here with me, that's okay too."

You're not sure what to think, staring at him with a million different thoughts flooding your mind. Your interpretation of what men want has always been a bit of a grey area, but you've heard enough from both your family and your friends to know that most of them are just after one thing. You'd heard it from your parents your whole life who always warned about non-Christian boys and their sinful thoughts, then from the girls at college who dealt with disrespect and catcalls, men who turned on them in an instant the second they realized they weren't getting any.

Joel isn't like that. Sure, he wants sex - that's been obvious since day one, when he'd invited you inside his house within minutes of meeting you. He'd only had one thing on his mind, just like your parents had always said. But he hadn't thrown a fit when you'd said no, and up until this point he's made it abundantly clear that the ball is in your court, that it's up to you what happens between the two of you.

"I know all this stuff can be scary," he continues softly when you don't reply, "I know you're embarrassed about bein' so inexperienced, but you don't need to be. I'm here to make it easier for you; I want you to be comfortable."

He nudges forward a bit and slowly begins to wrap his arms around you, warm and inviting. You let him, body going loose and comfortable in his grasp as you feel your eyes close; safe. You feel so safe.

"You're so warm," is all you can think to say, loving the way it feels to have his broad and hairy chest pressed up against your bare breasts, his big and strong arms winding around your smaller form.

He chuckles softly and you feel him press a gentle kiss to your cheek, beard scratching your skin in your favorite way. You bring your arms up and hug him back beneath the blankets, feeling your naked thighs press firmly against his. You're aware of his cock - it's hard not to be, not when it's pressed gently against the base of your tummy, soft against your skin - but he doesn't rub himself against you or do anything to initiate more than this, more than just being together like he'd said.

He really means it, you know he does.

"I can't wait to have sex with you," you hear yourself whisper in his ear; it sounds dirty but you don't mean it to be, "I just...I'm really glad it's gonna be you."

And I'm pretty sure I'm falling for you.

You wake up the next morning to a firm and solid presence at your back, bare and warm and comfy. You're surprised you're awake before Joel's alarm, wondering what exactly woke you up in the first place - and then you feel it. Something wet and sticky against your lower back, something pulsing and twitching every so often against your skin.

Good morning.

He hadn't pressed his cock against you like this last night when you were cuddling, hadn't asked you to touch it or even acknowledged its presence. But sleeping Joel is an entirely different person, his big arms wrapped around you tightly, one splayed across your belly while the other holds your right breast, cups it like it's meant to fit there. He holds you in place firmly, breath at your neck, nose in your hair.

You're not sure how much time you have left before his alarm goes off. The sun is only barely starting to come up outside the window, so it could start ringing at any time now. All you know is that the sensation of having him so close to you like this, his most intimate part so close to yours, so wet and warm, it's making you all wet and warm. Your skin almost feels itchy, especially at your neck where his warm breath leaves a damp spot beneath your ear, a spot you're suddenly longing for him to kiss, to lick.

"Joel," you breathe, unable to wait any longer, scared that at any moment he'll have to leave the bed and start getting ready for work.

No response.

"Joel," you repeat, a bit louder this time, and with his name you carefully grind back against him a little bit, the wet head of his cock trailing back and forth against your warm skin. He makes a grumbling noise in his chest, pulls you in a bit closer, "Joel, wake up," you moan, painfully aware of the shape of his balls against your ass, big and heavy and suddenly the hottest thing you've ever felt in your life.

"What?" he groans, rousing from sleep, "What is it?"

It's all the confirmation of awareness you need to suddenly turn in the sheets, bring the duvet down to expose your naked bodies to the both of you. His eyes are bleary and tired as he watches you from beneath heavy eyelids, sees where your gaze has settled.

His cock lays long and thick and loose against his tummy, round tip drooling precum into the hair smattered above his belly button. God, he's so big. Your lips part, saliva filling your mouth like it had the last time you saw it, like somehow your body knows exactly what the next step is.

"I wanna put my mouth on it," you whisper, pushing your hair back behind your ears and turning your gaze back to Joel's face, "Please."

His eyebrows go up in surprise, eyelashes fluttering with sleep. He's probably wondering where this is coming from, how the girl in his bed right now is the same one who just wanted to be held last night, but he doesn't seem to be complaining. He nods quickly, stretches his arms above his head and tries to rouse himself even more from sleep.

"Of course you can, baby," he mutters huskily, voice deep and dripping with arousal, "Go ahead."

"Tell me if I'm doing something wrong," you murmur softly, and before you can even fully process what you're doing or question if you'll even be good at it, your lips are pressing against the warm heat of his wet tip.

He hisses immediately and you pull back, frightened for a moment that you've already fucked up somehow. He shakes his head quickly at you, "No, no, you're good baby, that's good," one of his hands comes down to settle against the back of your head, fingers tangling gently in your hair, "Give it a kiss, just like that."

And you do. Time is already not on your side - you feel like there's a countdown clock hanging over your head as you press another kiss in the same spot, his precum sticky on your lips. You'd thought it might be gross, had heard lots about blowjobs from your friends and how unpleasant they can be, but when your tongue darts out to carefully prod against where he's leaking, you find that it doesn't bother you that much at all.

"Tastes funny," you murmur softly, peppering a few more kisses around the wide head and then down to his shaft, thumbing the prominent vein on the underside as you do it.

"Kinda gross, huh?" you hear him say softly above you, a strained edge to his voice that makes you smile against him.

"I think I like it, actually," you admit softly, tongue darting out once again to slowly lap up a bead at the tip. You're not lying; there's something masculine and sexy and inherently Joel about it, something you hadn't been expecting.

"That's good, sweetheart," he murmurs, stroking the back of your head gently, "That's so good, angel." You don't know whether he means your opinion on the taste or simply a reaction to the things you're doing with your tongue, but either way you keep going, hoping that the alarm doesn't interrupt you.

You wrap your lips around the tip carefully, pulling it into your mouth and sucking it gently - very gently. He makes a breathless sound above you and you can't help but bring your gaze up to his face, your eyes meeting his as you swallow him down.

"That's it, that's a good girl," he breathes, thumbing a strand of hair at your temple and pushing it behind your ear, eyes dark, "Look at you."

You swirl your tongue around the tip, still making sure to keep eye contact with him as you carefully slip more of him inside your mouth. He's so big, there's absolutely no way you'll be able to fit all of him inside, at least not without some practice. He doesn't seem to mind that you can only take a little bit of him, his thumb coming downward to stroke gently at the corner of your mouth. He wipes away a bit of drool pooling there, brows furrowing.

"You're doin' so good, angel," he whispers, nodding slowly to you in reassurance as you very slowly begin to lift your head up and down, up and down, eyes going hazy, "Takin' that cock so well."

His words spur you on, encourage you to take a little bit more. You've got about half of him in your mouth and you already know you won't be able to take anymore, the spongey tip pushing dangerously close to your gag reflex. You absolutely do not want to choke, don't want to ruin this in any way. You want him to feel good. Feel better.

"Oh, honey," he groans softly when you begin to palm his balls, rolling them gently and feeling their fullness, round and heavy, "This mouth," he touches the corner of your lips again, a bit harder this time, trails his fingers downward to grip your chin, "Made to have my cock in there, huh?" his eyes are boring into yours, pupils blown wide, "You like havin' your mouth full like that, babygirl?"

You nod and whimper around his length, speeding up a little bit and never breaking eye contact with him, obsessed with watching his eyes get darker and darker, filling more and more with lust as he watches you pleasure him.

"Yeah, you do," he murmurs, voice soothing again like last night, calm and safe, "What a good girl you are, wakin' me up to suck my cock. Couldn't wait, could ya, baby?" you shake your head and the head of his cock slips past your throat a little too far, so much that you have to pull off him quickly to be sure you don't gag, "Aw, baby, that's okay," he reassures you gently, "It's a lot, I know."

Your eyes are hooded and your jaw is already starting to ache - you're not used to doing something like this and he knows it, strokes your cheek gently as he takes his cock in his hand and carefully pushes the tip against your lips.

"You just kiss it, baby," he whispers, dark and deep, "Kiss that cock 'til I come, okay?"

You do as you're told, lips parting slightly as he rubs the head of his cock against your lips and strokes himself a few more times, bringing himself close to the edge. He's so gorgeous like this, so rugged and almost animalistic as his chest heaves, groans escaping his mouth as he watches your lips. His hand is still in your hair, grip getting tighter and tighter as you lean down a bit so he can gently fuck the tip of his cock back into your mouth. Your eyes close involuntarily and you can feel your pussy throbbing against the mattress with every thrust, lips tight around him.

"Ah, fuck," he grits out suddenly, then pulls his cock away from your mouth and releases all over his chest and stomach, thighs tensing up as you watch his eyes practically roll back into his head. Your eyes are wide and attentive, locked onto the white ropes of come that spurt against his bare skin. You find yourself wondering what it would feel like at the back of your throat instead, on your tongue, what it would taste like...

Your thoughts are interrupted by Joel's alarm going off, loud and obnoxious. Before he can pull himself up to turn it off, you lean over to the nightstand and do it yourself, swiping it off and turning back to his blissed out form. He lies there panting for a moment, eyes closed. You can't help but smile, feeling pride swell in your chest again at the knowledge that you made him feel like this.

"Don't go back to sleep," you whisper softly, "You gotta go to work."

He groans then, but opens his eyes and gives you a crooked smile and a wink, expression still sleepy and satisfied, "Who needs an alarm clock when I got you, huh?" He gestures with his finger for you to move closer and you do, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips, "Mornin', darlin'," he murmurs against your mouth.

"Morning," you whisper back, and you revel in the smile on his face when you pull away, "Sorry for jumping your bones so early."

He just shakes his head with a wide smile, "Never apologize for jumpin' my bones, baby." His eyes fall to your naked body, settling on your pussy, still wet and aching against the sheets, "Aw, sweetheart, lemme take care of that for you."

You shake your head, pointing to his phone, "We don't have time, you gotta get to work and I gotta get home before my parents wake up," you slip out of bed and reach down to pick up the clothes you'd stripped yourself of last night before your shower. He starts to protest but you put your hand up with a soft laugh, "It's okay, Joel. I wanted to do this for you, start your day out right. Give you a chance at a good day."

He peers up at you from the bed, face smooshed into the pillow as he watches you get dressed, "Doesn't seem fair."

You just roll your eyes, pulling on your panties and shorts and pointing to his phone again, "Really, we need to hurry," you bite your lip as you slip your t-shirt over your head, "I have keys this time but I still don't wanna risk it."

"Okay, okay," he grumbles softly, "I'm goin'."

He slips out of bed and stretches, tilting his body back and forth. You both hear the way his bones crack, the noise that emits from his throat when he bends his back a certain way. You watch his expression change, going from content and sated to embarrassed and grumpy in seconds.

"And just like that, the illusion is gone," he mutters to himself, limping away from the bed and toward the door without so much as a side glance to you, clearly upset by the sudden reminder of his age. You frown, watching him go and feeling an ache in your chest that makes a home there for the rest of the morning.

He'd made you breakfast last time, so it's only fair that you make something for him today. Unfortunately cooking has never been your forte, so about fifteen minutes later you're waving a dish rag at the fire alarm while the sausages you'd managed to burn are smoking in the sink. Joel comes running down the stairs after his shower with a look of concern on his face, only for it to fade into one of amusement when he sees the situation.

"Now why am I teachin' you guitar when you clearly don't know how to even use a stove?"

"Oh, shut up," you can't even pretend to be mad at him, grin spreading across your face as you shake your head and breathe a sigh of relief when the alarm stops going off, "Help me clean this up."

You end up making toast instead.

"You know, we've still got about ten minutes," he says across from you at the table as you eat, peering down at his watch quickly.

"Yeah, 'cause I fail as a cook," you mutter, making a face at your slice of toast, "I was gonna do eggs too, you know."

"Let's not reach for the stars too quickly now," he says with a sly smile, putting his hand up quickly when you prepare to retort, "Anyway, that's not what I meant."

"What did you-" you look up from your toast and see him beckoning you toward him again like he had last night, finger curling toward himself with a sly smile on his face.

You look at the clock on the oven, biting your lip.

"It'll take five minutes tops," he says, and you raise your eyebrow at him.

"Really?" you challenge, "Five minutes?"

"Five minutes."

That, you'd like to see. Dropping your toast back onto the plate, you stand up and walk to the other side of the table, unsure what exactly he wants you to do. He spreads his legs a bit, points to his thigh.

"Sit here, babygirl," he says, voice low and hypnotic, "Wanna show you somethin' new."

Yes please.

You situate yourself on his lap, one leg going between his thighs while the other dangles carefully off the other side of the chair. He pulls you down, big hands coming up to palm your hips and hold you there firmly. You swallow tightly, unsure exactly what he has in mind.

"You know what feels really good?" he murmurs, thumbs slowly stroking the bare skin between your shirt and your shorts.

"What?" you whisper, peering down into his eyes with intrigue.

"This," he says softly, then very slowly begins to move your hips, dragging you carefully back and forth along his thigh. Your eyebrows shoot up, lips parting as you feel the ache in your core immediately return, the pressure of his thigh and the movement of his hands setting your nerves alight.

He looks down at his own handiwork, watches as he moves you back and forth, back and forth, rocking you over and over again until you're whimpering in his lap, your hands coming up to grip his shoulders. He just smiles up at you, doesn't stop his movements.

"Yeah, that feels good, doesn't it?" he breathes, watching your expression closely, "Feels good to finally have somethin' touchin' that pussy, huh baby?"

You moan at his words, hands slipping from his shoulders to wrap around him as you lean forward to bury your face in his neck. He just starts to move you faster, chuckling softly to himself when your hips buck against him. It's amazing how such a simple action can feel so fucking good, the constant stimulation against your clit through layers of material making you writhe and whimper.

He removes one of his hands from your hips and slips it inside the leg of your shorts, fingertips tickling your inner thigh gently. You grapple onto him even tighter, hugging him like a koala as his thumb slowly begins to stroke you through the wet spot of your panties.

"Couldn't stop thinkin' about this pussy yesterday," he murmurs, thumb rubbing your clit over and over in little circles, "Those pictures were so filthy, baby."

You moan against his shoulder, gripping him tighter as his thumb begins to pick up speed. He presses a kiss to your neck, wet and hot; it makes your eyes roll back.

"And this little hole," he murmurs in your ear, suddenly adding a finger inside your shorts to circle your entrance slowly, "Kept thinkin' about this tiny little hole, all open for me."

God, when he talks like that you can't even fucking think, brain running on autopilot as he pulls you impossibly closer and lets you bare down on his thigh, his finger and thumb trapped under your weight, pressed firmly against your core.

"Who's gonna fill up that hole, babygirl?" he whispers in your ear, soft and secret, "Huh? Who's that hole belong to?"

"You," you whimper into his shoulder, eyes shut tight as he strokes his finger up and down through the fabric, adding even more pressure to the overwhelming sensations you're already feeling "It's yours, Mr. Miller."

"And what's gonna go inside it, sweetheart?"

"Hnhng," you can't speak, inhaling shakily as Joel's other hand presses harder against your hip and continues to guide you, fucking you back and forth against his thigh. He just watches you, eyes dark, lips parted, brow furrowed.

"Words, babygirl," he reminds you softly, "Use your words. What's gonna go inside that tight little hole? Huh? Tell me."

"Y-your cock."

"That's right," he murmurs, the tip of his finger prodding inside you gently, taking the damp material of your panties with it, "Gonna fill you up so deep with my cock, honey. You're gonna feel it right here," he moves his hand up and places it at the base of your belly, pushes against it softly, "Gonna be so big inside you, sweet girl."

Oh fuck.

"I want it so bad," you groan, wrapping your arms even tighter around him, "I need it Mr. Miller."

"You do need it," he agrees softly as he kisses the top of your head, bringing his hand back down from your belly to guide you again, moving you back and forth "Need to be fucked so bad, don't you baby? Til you can't even think straight."

You nod frantically, continuing to grind yourself down against his thigh over and over and over, "Please," you whimper, almost a squeak, "Please, Mr. Miller."

"Shh," he soothes, pulling you in closer and moving your hips against him, looking at you with those big brown eyes full of lust and safety, "I will, babygirl. Soon. I'll fuck you so good, honey. I promise." Your body hitches in his lap as you near the edge, eyes going wide and mouth popping open as your orgasm starts to hit you, "Yeah? You like thinkin' about that, huh? Me fuckin' this soaked little pussy into my mattress? Fillin' you up so deep you can feel me in your stomach?"

You can't hold on anymore, eyes shutting tight and high pitched whimpers flowing past your lips as you start to come. He pins you against his thigh, holds you there tight and firm as your pussy pulses and throbs through his pants. You lean forward to bury your face in his neck as you ride it out, feel his hand press against your back.

"Oh, good girl, that's it, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple gently and stroking your back in little circles, "Come all over my lap, sweetheart. Show me how wet she can get, there you go. Good girl."

After a moment of catching your breath and willing yourself to pull your face away from his neck, you both bring your attention to the clock on the stove - five minutes have passed.

"Told ya," he murmurs, pulling you into one more hug, hitching his chin over your shoulder and rubbing your back gently as your head lolls against him.

You're too blissed out to tease him back.

The arrivals gate isn't as busy as you'd expected, thankfully. You lean against your car a few hours later, still reeling from your morning with Joel as you wait for Tasha to show up. You'd told him about your weekend plans before you'd left, insisting that despite spending time with Tasha you'd still be attending your Saturday lesson.

"Can't wait," he'd murmured to you, low and deep in your ear after giving you one final kiss at the door, "Got somethin' real special planned, babygirl."

You'd practically melted down his front steps.

"THERE'S MY FAVORITE SLUT!!" you suddenly hear someone shout, and you look up to see Tasha at the sliding doors, bags dropping to the ground as she sprints at you head on and collides with you seconds later, wrapping her arms around you tightly.

She's just the same as she was the last time you saw her, high spirited and excitable and sweet, practically vibrating in your arms with joy. Only she could rock a bright purple cowboy hat and sweatpants, not to mention the lime green flip flops.

"Oh my god," you gasp in her ear, hugging her back and spinning on the spot, "You're insane."

"I'M EXCITED!" she squeals, pulling away from you and clapping her hands together, "We're going out tonight!!! Together!!! For the first time ever!" She brings her hands up and places one on either side of your face, lips turning down into a pout, "My baby bird is leaving the nest," she sighs dreamily, shaking her head, "I never thought this day would come."

"Please get in the car," you laugh, popping the trunk and gesturing to her bags, "before I change my mind and send you back."

You give Tasha the complete run-down on Joel as you get ready at the Airbnb, updating her on everything that's happened since you'd last checked in. It feels so good to actually talk about it, not text or simply mull it over and over in your head. She gasps at all the right spots, makes ridiculous faces in the mirror as she curls her hair, nearly drops the curling iron on the floor when you tell her about this morning.

"AND YOU LIKED HOW IT TASTED?" she practically screams, running out of the room and then running back in like she has no idea what to do with herself, "Oh my god, you are down bad. Jesus Christ," she makes a face, "Sorry, I mean- uh, fuck."

"Tasha," you roll your eyes, "You can say Jesus Christ."

"I can?" her eyes widen and she sighs in relief, picking up the curling iron from the floor, "Thank god."

You're going clubbing tonight for the very first time; a night of dancing and cocktails and flirting and living out all the college dreams you still have yet to experience. You're a bit tentative about the flirting part though, a concept that floors Tasha immediately.

"You can't go clubbing and not flirt," she says with faux shock, spinning in front of you as she assesses her dress in the mirror, "It's the best part!"

"I have a-" you cut yourself off, making a face at your reflection.

"You do not have a boyfriend," Tasha says immediately, "There has been no definition, babe. You need to keep reminding yourself of that."

"But it's not just fucking," you argue with a grimace, "I mean, it's not even fucking at all, we still haven't taken that step yet."

"I know, I just don't want you to get your heart hurt, honey," she frowns, leaning toward the mirror and applying some lipstick, "Boys are mean."

"Well, Joel's not a boy," you say quietly, fingering the hem of your own dress, a short and cute pink number that Tasha had brought specifically for you to wear, "He's a man."

"Mmhm, so you keep telling me," she raises an eyebrow, "I think I need to see this man for myself. Give you my honest opinion, see if he's really this gorgeous, perfect hunk you make him out to be."

You bite your lip, trying not to smile as you think back to this morning, how he'd looked in the early morning light, naked and sleepy and beautiful. And all yours.

"He is," you murmur softly.

You're supposed to be going clubbing, supposed to be out dancing and drinking cocktails and living out all your college dreams for once in your life. But where are you instead?

"O'Neil's!!" Tasha says excitedly, pointing to the red neon sign outside the bar you've just arrived at, throwing you a shit-eating grin that just makes you playfully roll your eyes.

You never should have told her the name of the bar Joel frequents, because she's now made it her mission to find him, get a good look at him and judge for herself if he's really all you're making him out to be. It's your own fault, you suppose, considering that you don't have any pictures of him or any frame of reference to articulate exactly the way he looks. For Tasha he's shrouded in mystery, but not for much longer.

Your ears are already ringing when you get inside the bar, the chatter and buzz of other people's conversations flooding your thoughts. You're not used to being out like this, being around drunk people or high people or literally anyone whose ideal night out is spending time at a bar. It's nerve-wracking and you instantly feel like a fish out of water, gripping onto Tasha's arm after showing your ID to a man who ogled both of you way more than he needed to.

"So this is where he hangs out," Tasha says, assessing her surroundings and leading you towards the bar where most people seem to be gathered, "Quaint. Little divey. Definitely not for our crowd but hey, we're learning new things tonight." She taps the counter and tilts her head toward the bartender with a smile, "Watcha got on tap?"

You wrinkle your nose, "I thought we'd be having cocktails."

"Oh we will at the club, don't you worry. But if we want the authentic dive bar experience, beer is necessary," the bartender lists the options and Tasha orders, though you barely hear what either of them are saying over the loud music and conversations. Your eyes scan the bar for any sign of Joel, but people are packed so tightly in here that it's hard to really see anybody, faces and bodies melding together.

The bartender hands Tasha the drinks and she throws him a wink, "Thank you, darling."

You envy how easily she navigates a situation like this, so natural and graceful despite her surroundings that are anything but. She hands your beer to you with a smile and holds hers up in front of her, tilting it toward yours until they clink.

"To you finally coming out with me," she toasts with a grin, "It's about damn time."

You smile back and take a sip, trying your hardest not to wince at the bitter flavor. It's not like you've never tried alcohol before, you just already know that you hate beer.

"Delicious," you lie, and Tasha just laughs and gestures toward a suddenly empty booth in the corner of the room.

"Let's sit there while we suss him out," she mutters to you, pulling you along with her and slipping inside, "Now, what's he look like? You've been pretty vague about those details." She waggles her eyebrows, "Be honest, is he bald?"

You almost spit out your second sip, shaking your head furiously, "No, he's not bald. Full head of hair."

She puts her hands up in defense, "Hey, it's not that crazy to assume!"

You just shake your head and laugh, turning back toward the bar and the people and trying to get a gage on where he might be. You know he usually comes here with his contracting crew, but what the hell does a contracting crew even look like?

"Help me out, gimme a description!" Tasha says eagerly, wiggling in her seat a bit and following your gaze, "He has facial hair, right?"

"Yes, it's kinda messy and scruffy," you bite your lip, squinting a bit as if that'll help you.

"And what's his hair color?"

You don't look at her as you reply, "Um.. grey."

Tasha's hand slaps down on the table and you jump, eyes going wide as you turn back to her, "What?"

"Grey? Girl, how old is he?" she doesn't sound angry or judgmental - she sounds intrigued. And almost... impressed? You gnaw on your lip, scrunching your eyebrows together as you look back toward the crowd of people.

"Um... he's..." you stop short, freezing when your eyes land on a familiar shirt near the bar, a red and black plaid button down that you'd seen only hours ago, "There! He's there!" You point at him quickly, ducking your head a bit and motioning for Tasha to lean in closer to get a good look.

"Oh... my god," she breathes, and you feel a rush of pride at her response, unable to stop the grin from plastering itself to your face as you peer at him.

There's something different about him that you can't place - maybe it's just because you haven't seen him in a public place like this, aren't used to what he looks like when it's not just the two of you. You try to put your finger on it, and while you're doing so he does something that makes your heart positively swell in your chest.

He smiles. That beautiful crooked smile that pulled you in the day you met him, set your skin on fire and brought you to the point of no return. Those crinkly eyes, the grey in his beard, the softness of his eyes, they send that familiar feeling of safety rushing through your bones. And you realize there's nothing different about him at all. That's your Joel, sitting on a bar stool after a long day of work, nursing a glass of whisky and chatting about his day. He's the same Joel who you'd woken up with this morning, just in a different setting.

You're so distracted by his rugged beauty out in the open like this - overwhelmed by his charm and his smile - that it takes you a few seconds to see who exactly he's smiling at.

You feel your heart in your throat.

There's a woman sitting beside him. Not just beside him, but so close their stools are touching, so close her legs - long and lean and beautiful - are brushing his. It's not subtle the way her ankle moves against his calf, up and down, up and down. She's wearing jean shorts and a halter top, skin dark and gorgeous and exposed in all the right places, beautiful brown braids cascading down her back and shoulders. You can't see her face but you already know she could be a model. She probably is.

No. No, something isn't right.

Maybe it's not him.

Time feels like it's frozen, like everyone in the bar has stopped moving except the two of them, like a giant spotlight is shining directly on where they sit, where they touch, where they smile at each other. Because it is him. It's him in all his gorgeous Joel glory, peering into the eyes of a woman who isn't you, a woman who's probably more his type, closer to his age, a woman who's somehow making him smile like that when she shouldn't. That's how he smiles at you. That's your smile.

A woman who's now leaning in for a kiss.

No. Please no.

A woman who he kisses back.

This isn't happening. This isn't real. This is just some sick and twisted nightmare you're about to wake up from at any second.

His hand comes up to cup her face.

"I'm gonna throw up," is all you manage to gasp out to Tasha as you yank yourself from the booth and sprint out of the bar, hand splaying across your belly as you bend over and release the contents of your stomach all over the sidewalk.

You feel Tasha's hand on your back, pulling your hair behind your ears. She's saying something but you don't understand it, ears continuing to ring despite being outside in the cool air, away from the loud music and chatty conversations, away from them.

"Oh honey," you finally hear her say, soft and kind as she rubs circles into your back, a comforting action that brings no comfort to you, not now, not after what you've just seen. "I'm so sorry."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #fic: feelings on fire #*

2K notes · View notes

breezy141 · 6 months ago

Text

that’s so cool | dave lizewski x f!reader masterlist.

a lil one shot. lemme know if u want a pt. 2 tho :))

before opening your locker door you quickly checked if anyone was wandering around in the hallways, you didn’t really want anyone to see what was hidden in there. the coast was clear so you put in the combination and yanked it open as quickly as you could.

a smile crept onto your face as you pulled out the comic you were halfway through, the amazing spider-man, you had a reputation to withhold in this school, you weren’t going to let some geeky comic books tarnish that so you hid them as if it was some kind of drug.

“you have the amazing spider-man, with the limited edition front page!? holy” you heard a familiar voice speak out to you, you spun around holding it behind your back. dave lizewski was stood there, his hands holding the straps of his backpack. he was a nerd, one you shouldn’t be seen with. i mean, you always thought he was so precious and such a cutie but unfortunately, you cared more about your stupid reputation.

“n-no what are you talking about? it was an english book” he frowned and tilted his head a little. “listen, i won’t tell a soul. plus, i’ve read enough comic books to know exactly what that is” to be honest, he was a bit of a geek so who’d believe him if he said anything anyway, you thought to yourself.

“fine.” slumping your shoulders a little you pulled the book from behind you and showed the front cover to him. “my daddy got it for me! it was a birthday gift, apparently there is only a hand full available. thankfully i own one” dave was in pure awe. he couldn’t believe it.

“that’s..so cool. i never knew you were into comic books” he said with a small giggle, you caught yourself smiling at that. noticing quickly, you pressed your lips into a fine line and looked down at the ground.

“yeah, i’ve always been into them. as i grew up i kinda drifted from them but when daddy got me this i could not resist so that phase has kinda come back” he nodded as you spoke, “hey, um, i have loads that i could give you, o-only if you wanted them! maybe it could inspire you to read them again”

frowning, you debated whether or not you should take them. usually, guys would never actually care for your interests; all they cared for is seeing you on their bed, sprawled out across the bed, wearing next to nothing for them.

“if you don’t want me to give you them here, maybe we could meet up somewhere and i’ll show you some” dave spoke up after he noticed you were unusually quiet.

“well, why don’t we do both? you could give me a couple now and show me some others another time, maybe on the weekend” dave’s eyes seemed to light up “really?!” you flashed a confused smile at him.

“i, erm, i mean yes we can do that” you giggled a little at his awkwardness. pulling out a pen from your cute pink bag, and a random slip of paper you wrote your number down and passed it to him. “when you get home, message me. we can figure out a time we can both do, and then meet up” he took the paper and stared at it for a little.

“but for now, let’s go to the library, the private section of course, and read some of these comics you were talking about” he pocketed the paper and nodded, you linked your arm around his and began walking to the library.

part of you cared about people seeing you together, but the other half didn’t. maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing getting to know dave, he was such a cute guy!

#fluff #fanfic #cute #aaron taylor johnson #dave lizewski #aaron taylor johnson x reader #dave lizewski x reader #kick-ass #film

231 notes · View notes

thelov3lybookworm · 10 months ago

Note

Hey, will you write a cassian x reader fic inspired by the song Creepin by Metro Boomin & the Weeknd?

My fault.

Summary: They never liked her. Thought he was too good for her. She did not realised the lengths they would go to hurt her.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: self loathing, cheating, asshole inner circle, reader does not think herself worthy of love. that's all, me thinks, but if there's more, lemme know.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! i enjoyed writing it so much 🥹 so sorry for the long wait my love❣️

(the inner circle is kind of a bitch in this, not Nesta though. she is an angel. reader has no freakin backbone, so dont read if its no your cup of tea)

with that out of the way, i might do a part two if everyone wants it. I have it all planned out 😏

anyways, enjoy!

(heheh @artists-ally and @aroseinvelaris i hope this makes you cry. the snippets were just the snacks. this is the meal)

•○🌑○•

Y/n stared at her best friend of centuries, numbness spreading through her chest the longer she thought about the information she had just received.

"Y/n? Please say something." Nina begged, her eyes shining with tears, pleading.

"What is there left to say?" Y/n mumbled, taking a deep breath as she turned her gaze towards the empty cup that sat in front of her, picking at her cuticles. "Are you... are you sure it was him?"

Y/n knew it hurt Nina to be the bearer of the bad news, and she felt bad for asking her more about it. But she needed to know. "Yes. I don't think many Illyrians walk around with seven glowing rocks on their body."

Y/n nodded absently.

They sat a few moments in silence, letting the scrape and clinks of the cutlery fill the space between them.

It was supposed to be a girl's day today, and it had been fun, until Nina had gotten that sad, guilty look on her face as the two of them sat sipping on tea at a small cafe in the heart of Velaris.

Y/n almost regretted asking her friend what the matter was. Almost.

When the quiet became unbearable, Y/n stood with a deep sigh, grabbing her purse from the table in between them. Nina followed. "Y/n?"

"I think it's getting late. We should go home. He will be returning soon."

Y/n could see Nina's heart breaking for her friend, but she did not want anyone's sympathy.

"You are going to go back? To that house? To him?"

Y/n released a frustrated breath as the two of them left the cafe, spilling out into the packed street. "What else am I supposed to do? Run away?"

"Yes! He does not deserve you. Please tell me you will leave?"

Y/n looked away from Nina. "You know me, Nina. I have never been one to just up and leave."

It was almost common knowledge at this point. Everyone who knew Y/n, knew she would rather stay in a relationship in which she was the only one making an effort than leave. And she knew she probably was weak for not standing up for herself, the couple of relationships she's been in before showing that, but she simply could not bring herself to forget the teachings of her long dead mother-

That it was a female's job to keep her partner satisfied, and if he sought out other women, then it was the female's fault that she could not satisfy his needs.

Y/n did not think she would ever be able to stop being that timid, shy female who would just cry in the safety of the darkness in her room when someone hurt her.

She hated herself for it.

Nina was the only one who understood Y/n's reasoning and did not give her shit for it. She was the only one who tried to gently guide Y/n to stand up for herself. She never judged Y/n for crying.

"I..." Nina took a deep breath before nodding, rubbing Y/n's back. "I hope you someday find it in yourself to leave him before he..."

Nina did not say it, but Y/n heard it nonetheless.

Before he left her, disposed in favour of someone better. Someone more beautiful, someone more confident and loveable.

Y/n nodded, blinking back tears as she moved to hug her friend, who was more of a sister than anything at this point.

"Thank you." Y/n murmured into Nina's shoulder, her voice breaking. She felt Nina nod against her, giving her a rueful smile after they pulled away.

"Take care, Y/n."

Y/n nodded, turning away. "You too."

•○🌑○•

Y/n searched his face for something, anything, to show her that what Nina had told her was just a lie. That maybe she was mistaken.

Y/n came up lacking.

Now that she thought about it, the signs were always there. She was just too busy pretending that everything was fine. That Cassian was not like her previous lovers. That he would not throw her to the side, out of his life, for someone else.

That he loved her.

She now saw how foolish she'd been. Every male put on this land by the mother was the same. They only wanted females who were confident, who knew how to give them what they wanted.

She remembered how he had become recently. Yelling and picking fights over the smallest things.

The first time it happened, he was deep in his work, and Y/n had dropped something, making a loud sound and startling the both of them. Usually, Cassian would have given her a small smile and just gone back to work. But not that day.

That day he had glared at her, which was almost worse than the words that he mumbled next.

"When will you stop being clumsy?"

He had spoken under his breath, but Y/n had still heard. She stiffened.

"What?"

He sighed, his frustration evident. "When will you stop being clumsy?"

His voice was loud, almost booming, echoing in the painful silence after. Tears filled Y/n's eyes as she stared at him.

"Great. Now you are crying." He leaned back, dragging his palms down his face. Y/n ducked her head.

"I'm sorry." With that, she had shuffled out of his office, hoping she had not angered him too much and that he would forgive her.

Y/n watched, as Cassian threw back his head and laughed at something his family said, his hand on his abdomen.

She knew he had recently begun pulling away, knew he felt trapped by her.

And so she had let him do what he wished, made herself smaller to make space for his happiness.

Maybe that's where she had gone wrong.

She could tell he felt freer in this moment. Could tell by the sparkle in his eyes and by the constant smile and joy on his face.

She watched through the window as his body shook with the bouts of laughter his family pulled from him. She stood outside of the small gates that guarded the River estate of the high lord and blinked away her tears.

She had not seen him this happy in months now, and she had to fight off the jealousy that simmered in her gut. After all, she had no right to feel that way after she was the one who suppressed his happiness.

Y/n took a breath, releasing it in a sigh as she made up her mind. She needed to talk to Cassian, and then she would go back home, to the place she and Cassian had shared. To the place that he stopped living in in the past months, only visiting for the sake of it.

Walking up to the door of the home was quicker than she expected, and suddenly she was staring at the fine wood and considering bolting.

Her hand raised itself before she could do anything else, knocking, and she cursed lowly when the sound of footsteps approached.

The door opened to reveal a beautiful female staring at Y/n with a small smile. She had gorgeous blue-grey eyes, her hair that was wrapped around her head in a crown shining under the faelights.

"Yes? How can I help you?"

Y/n blinked, swallowing, wondering if she looked as miserable as she felt.

"I- is Cassian here?"

The female's brows furrowed. "Yes. Who are you?"

Y/n's eyes travelled to behind the female, where now stood a wide eyed Cassian and a furious looking High Lord. "I..."

Cassian sighed, taking a step forward, making the beautiful female glance back at them. "She's my-"

"She's no one, Nesta." Everyone's eyes snapped to the high lord. Hate spread through Y/n, but she tamped it down when Cassian simply continued staring at his brother instead of defending his wife.

A sudden rush of tears prickled at Y/n's eyes, but she swallowed hard. "Yes. I'm no one."

Cassian met her eyes, his gaze pained. Y/n had the vague feeling of being watched, but she ignored it, directly addressing her husband.

"Can I have a word? In private?"

The high lord opened his mouth, to reject no doubt, but Cassian beat him to it. "Yes."

Y/n sighed, and when she inhaled, Cassian's scent mixed with a soft, feminine filled her lungs . Y/n's wide eyes swung to a confused looking Nesta before glancing at Cassian disbelievingly, and she could see guilt overtaking Cassian's features.

She blinked, letting the tears fill her eyes as she gave him a pained expression.

"Thank you." Y/n mumbled, her tone defeated. Before the high lord could interrupt, she turned away, making her way towards the garden in front of the house, knowing Cassian followed.

When she was sure that no one could eavesdrop on them unless they really wanted to, she turned to her husband.

The two of them just stared at each other, the air around them charged.

Y/n decided to try and break a tense silence. "Hi."

His brows furrowed. "Hi..."

She smiled uncertainly at him as she contemplated her next words. "I... how are you?"

He blinked. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just feels like I haven't seen you in a long time. I've been worried."

His features softened, his eyes studying her. "I'm sorry. I have been... busy."

She nodded. "I can tell."

Despite her efforts to not let her sadness show, she knew he could tell.

"I- I can explain-"

Y/n shook her head. "There is no need to. I understand."

He blinked again. "What? You... what?"

She gave him a look. "I understand why you did it. I mean... it's not like it hasn't happened before with my previous lovers. I get it."

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Y/n continued.

"Look, it's... okay. I won't stop you from it. Just... I don't want to know. If you are playing me, please... keep it low. My heart can't take it anymore. Just don't let me find out. Keep it to yourself." Her voice wavered as she spoke the words that were swirling through her mind since Nina told her about what she'd seen. "Please don't throw me away."

Guilt and shock spread though his face, as if he's just made a realisation and hated it. "Y/n I am so sorry-"

His voice broke, and Y/n immediately began searching for ways to ask for forgiveness and make him happy.

"Don't apologise, my love. I know your family hates me, and I probably deserve it. I... you definitely deserve better. I know you do. And I understand." She took a deep breath, knowing she was rambling but she could not stop. "I- I am so sorry I could not give you what you want, but please, Cassian, don't-"

Cassian grabbed her face, pulling her into his chest. Y/n stilled, trying to take in a full breath as tears started escaping her eyes as she gasped and clenched her eyes shut.

"Y/n-"

But a sharp gasp cut him off, and Y/n pulled away from Cassian, finding Nesta and Rhysand staring at them. Y/n took a few steps back, not wanting to ruin whatever was giving Cassian the happiness she couldn't.

But Nesta glared at Cassian, and then Rhys. With a start, Y/n realised the high lord was staring at her.

And he had tears in his eyes.

"You were trying to get me to accept the bond with a married male?"

Everything slowed down, and Y/n stared in horror at Rhysand.

"Mates?" She whispered.

Nest looked over, making to step close. "Please forgive me. I did not know that brute was married. I would never have done what I did otherwise."

Y/n shook her head, wondering if there was a way to respond to that.

She settled on the only thing that made sense to her.

"Good night."

She turned towards the gates, and, for the first time since she had met Cassian, ignored the calls of her name by her husband, his brother and his mate as she sprinted away.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Cassian taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter

#cassian #cassian x you #cassian x reader #acosf #cassian acotar #cassian acosf #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #night court #General of night court #lord of bloodshed #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon

394 notes · View notes

rotandguts · 2 years ago

Text

✶ ┄ DRIVING IN CARS WITH BOYS

danny (evil dead rise) x fem!reader

summary: a workplace camaraderie spurs a string of late night drives with danny, each one bringing you closer to realising your feelings for one another.

word count: 8.3k

warnings: 18+ mdni, nsfw, semi-public sex, car sex, oral (m receiving), masturbation (f receiving), lowkey sexting lol, degradation if u squint tbh, mention of masturbation (m), DANNY IS 18+

A/N: okay so, i’ve just want to discuss how i’ve written danny but i just want to emphasise that i don’t want to erase the fact that he’s literally trans. i don’t have enough expertise writing from a trans point of view imo as i’m a cis female and i don’t want it to be offensive or tacky in anyway. so for this purpose i’ve just written danny as having a dick but i know how difficult it is for the trans community, especially trans youths and those with low income to receive certain types of gender affirming surgery and don’t want to just dismiss that. i hope that’s okay with everyone if anyone has any advice or anything lemme know!

publishing date ― may 22nd, 2023 | © rotandguts

✶

When Danny first got his licence, he took any chance he got to drive the family’s Buick Roadsmaster. While not as impressive as some of the vehicles his classmates had, the fact he was even able to access a car with the income his family possessed was enough for him. It also explained why he was still living with his mom while attending college.

To help his mother he’d taken to working at the local Henrietta’s pizza joint, making enough to just make ends meet. In combination with whatever DJing side gigs he could get, he was slowly starting to save up. Aside from monetary gain, the part time job also gave him a new social life. Everyone who worked there was a little older, working to save during college like himself. It gave him the chance to speak to others in a space away from class, and the job itself was pretty easy anyway - due to his ability to drive he’d get sent out on deliveries most of the time.

Normally he’d be fine with this, getting paid hourly plus keeping the tips he got from going door to door (minus the occasional inconvenience from a few annoying assholes or prank calls). But he started to actually miss joking around in the kitchen or front desk with his co-workers. Danny was by no means unpopular, he had his own small friendship group from high school that kept him steady, but meeting new people he genuinely got along with was nice. He was generally of a shy disposition, not one to reach out to others naturally, but a fiercely proud friend when you got to know him.

One person he began to miss in particular, was you. He’d recognised you from a few of his old high school classes, more on the quiet side like himself, usually folded over scribbling into your textbook. You were the only other person around his age working in Henrietta’s. He remembered that in school you kept to yourself but had plenty of friends on the committees you were on. Danny had remembered you were involved from an assembly talking about yearbook and prom committee, he thinks. He only attended after being threatened with detention if he skipped out to smoke under the bleachers with his friends. At work, you were the most talkative person there. He could tell how you had easily adapted in the extracurricular groups you were a part of from that skill alone.

Danny couldn’t really say he had ever tried to talk to you in school before, but when you both got to talking you would later admit that you hadn’t really made an effort to approach him either.

You had been working at Henrietta’s for similar reasons as Danny, you had initially joined in high school to save money to support yourself in college. After working there the past few years now, you’d seen classmates from both high school and college come and go but never really struck up a true friendship with them other than a wave or smile in the school hallways. All the other long term workers were post-graduates unable to put their diplomas to use and while it was handy for getting invited to college parties - you certainly felt a disconnect.

But then there was Danny.

Shy, kind, attractive Danny. You would be lying if you said you’d never noticed him in school. He was that one quiet cool kid that everyone just kind of liked. Good taste in music, if you could remember correctly. As soon as you got home from your first shift together you’d made sure to stalk all of his socials, he was kind of artsy - not quite goth but not quite full blown skater boy. He was rarely seen on his own Instagram, instead filling with pictures of his friends or gigs he’d been to. You bit your lip, growing only more curious about the blonde boy, head filling with speculation about his taste in romantic partners or what he’d be like behind closed doors.

You remembered the first day he’d walked in with the hairstyle he sported so casually now. He wore it so well compared to the dark brown mop he used to have. You’d never really noticed the boys or girls in your class before as being particularly attractive, but Danny walking in with that haircut and his new skater-ish look was like a breath of fresh air.

This bubbling attraction was never indicated or acted upon until both of you were on kitchen duty during a quiet Sunday night shift. Danny had found that you liked to playfully bicker, it was like vocal tennis to you. Each of you began to find things to make the other flustered, never hitting too below the belt.

Both of you had been tiptoeing on a dangerous line, comments almost falling into uncharted territory. Running out of options to make him squirm, you turned around and admitted, “I actually remember when you came into class with that mullet for the first time. I thought it was super hot.” He froze, not sure how to respond. Were you actually flirting with him? Was this just part of the joke? Instinctively running his hands through his hair, he thought of a quick response.

“Thanks, I guess. Yeah, I liked when you had streaks in your hair.” You had briefly followed the TikTok trend coming back to high school after lockdown, two platinum blonde streaks framing your face. You raised your eyebrows. “Daniel! You’re like, totally obsessed with me!” You giggled, tucking hair behind your ear. Danny, blushing, shrugged and diverted his eyes to the task at hand.

“I could literally say the same for you. Still think my hair is super hot?” He smirked, looking up at her across the small divide of the work station. “Yeah, I do.” She smiled back.

From here, a light flirtation began to intertwine with the duo’s constant bickering, quickly leading to them becoming close. Their co-workers had begun to notice that they’d swap shifts in order to be together, not that either of them would admit that. As long as they were getting the work done, nobody cared. They were a dynamic duo in the workplace, known to close the building in record time and maintain high sales during quiet days. Slowly, you had both began to be left in charge of the store on a Sunday closing shift.

Naturally, he’d offer to give you a ride home. You didn’t live too far from him and if his mom had found out he’d left you alone to get a bus or walk home she would’ve killed him. It was a win-win, and he was always grateful for the time he spent with you alone. Along the way, there would occasionally be a late night detour to McDonalds or whatever fast food place that would be open at the time, both of you sick of pizzas after long shifts spent in the kitchen.

In the parking lot within the safe confines of the family car, you’d gossip about classmates and co-workers and sing loud to your heart's content to whatever CDs he had lying around. Sometimes he’d play his new mixes for you, eager to hear your thoughts. One night after playing you his newest mix, nervously playing with the clutch, you placed your hand on top of his.

“I really appreciate you playing me these by the way. Like genuinely, I really like them.” You smiled, and he smiled back. It was no secret that he was very shy about playing others his music, the only time it felt natural was when he did do a DJ gig somewhere (thanks to the fake ID his aunt Beth got him). He was desperate to play it cool, but his hands clammy at your touch indicated otherwise.

“Thanks man.” He started the ignition, leading you to jump slightly and remove your hand. He could still feel the ghost of it when he began to drive away, willing you to place it back again. But the soft feeling of your palm never returned.

“Really… Thanks for everything, Dan. It means a lot to me.” You continued, your eyes on the road now like his should have been, only distracted so he could take short discreet glances at you. “I’m glad we met.”

“What was that?” He teased, pretending not to hear her. She lightly nudged him, “Har-har, very funny.”

“Yeah whatever. Really glad you’ve become my passenger princess,” You turn around to look at him through eyelashes, head pressed against the headrest. You couldn’t help but note how good he looked with the dimmed lighting of the street lights at night.

“The only reason I keep you around is ‘cause you keep leaving your shit in the car all the time, so I have to hang around you ‘cause my mom gets pissy that all this random junk is here.” Danny begins to joke around, picking up a lip gloss you’d left a few shifts ago. “Shit! I was looking for that!” You grabbed it off him, pulling the mirror down to apply it. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, jokingly.

By the time you got to your door, you almost didn't want to leave the car. A lingering thick silence grew and every small creak or sound the car would make emphasised it even further. Despite all these late night car rides or the occasional video call, you barely spoke during the day. It wasn’t like you were purposefully avoiding each other, you were doing different majors and had classes spread across the campus. Nonetheless, you found yourself missing his company.

“I really really meant what I said, Danny.” You promised, “Not teasing you, I promise.”

A faint smile on his lips, he replied “I know.” Silence again for a moment.

“I like teasing you.” He’d said it so quietly you didn’t even know if you’d heard him correctly. His eyes shifted to your figure, your own eyes now glued to the view of the dark empty street from the windshield. You could feel your chest growing heavier, and the burn rising to your cheeks. He continued, “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Without thinking, you turned to look at him again. “Yeah, you too Daniel.” You parted from him with a light smack to his arm.

Getting out the car, you sped to your front door. You were dying to turn around to catch his reaction, he always did such a good job of appearing so stoic and then crumbling at the very last moment at any sort of praise sent his way. As much as you tried to resist it, you couldn’t help but glance back at the boy. He was watching you from the car window, rosy cheeked and eyes hopeful.

But you couldn’t just leave him with that. As much as you desperately wanted to appear cool and mysterious, there was a part of you that clung to any interaction with him you could get. It’s what made you both so reluctant to hang up on each other during the occasional late night video call, only thwarted by Ellie politely reminding Danny he was keeping the other members of the household awake with his laughter.

Running back to the car trying not to trip over your own two feet, you hoped he couldn’t sense your own nervousness. You bang on the window, with Danny already in the process of rolling it down.

Air cold and still, lights dim.

“Thanks for the ride.” Leaning in, you pressed your glossy lips earnestly to his warm cheek. For a moment as you pulled away slowly, you could feel how close your faces were to each other. His breath on your face, you waited for anything to happen. “Y-yeah, no worries man.” Rushing back to your home, you couldn’t tell if you’d accomplished your goal or not. On one hand, he was flustered - it was obvious. But on the other, you’d almost wished he’d done something, anything, to keep you talking to him.

A few days went by with you beginning to narrowly miss each other at work, he would finish as you started or likewise. You hoped it wasn’t purposeful, although you’d admit that you hadn’t bothered to change any of your shifts since that night.

Legs hanging off the bed, you had been relaxing after a long day of kind-of studying. The fact you’d bothered to get the textbook out at all had seemed like a cause for celebration for you. Toying with the thought of teasing Dan via text, you were surprised to find the boy had already texted you.

DANNY

outside.

(sent at 23:04)

now

(sent at 23:05)

Alert, you stumbled your way to your bedroom window, legs still half dead from just lying around. And there it was, the trusty family Buick parked right outside. You could see his arm hanging from the window, fingers strumming something onto the car door. Those fingers had been thought about many times when Danny was on your mind. Long and kind of skinny, you imagined how they looked on the record decks he spent so much of his free time over.

Spinning the record, a single digit softly pressing down on the smooth ridge. How did he control them? Was he soft when he did it? Did he tug the record ever so slightly? Was he a little messy with his strokes? How much pressure did he apply? Did the rhythm depend on the listener?

This was going too far. And plus, you were keeping him waiting.

“Hurry the fuck up, I’m starving bro.” He whined as soon as your figure appeared in your front doorway.

“I ate already Dan,” Still searching for an explanation.

“Okay? Damn, you can watch me eat then! Just hurry up!” He nudged the horn, causing you to both jump. “I didn’t think that would be enough pressure to be honest, that kinda scared me too.” He admitted.

He was a little rough, you thought. Good to know.

“Why the fuck are you here, dumbass? I’ve got class in the morning.” You folded your arms, still not making any effort to get in the vehicle.

“I miss you, obviously.” He shrugged, as if it really was the most obvious thing in the world. It was like you could hear your heart ping inside you when he said that. You were starting to hate the recent way he’d been making you feel. He was certainly winning the teasing game.

You rolled your eyes, you were going to fight for this. “Danny, if you want to fuck me that badly you just need to ask.”

“Fuck off, I’m starving. I thought you loved me.” He pouted. Damn, he was good. Maybe this was all it was to him really, just a game. Maybe this is how he’s trying to set boundaries to imply you should just be platonic. Secretly, you hoped he wasn’t.

You huffed, “Fine.” And now both of you were driving to god knows what fast food place.

“Is your mom not pissed at you just taking the car all the time?” He shrugged off the question. “As long as I’m paying for the gas, she doesn’t care.” You hadn’t actually met her, despite hearing stories about her.

“Does she get annoyed at you coming home so late?” You were lightly prodding, not necessarily to simply tease but just to get a better picture of what it was like for him. He seemed once again unbothered when he responded, “I’m really good at staying quiet.”

“Aren’t you meant to be a DJ?”

“Yeah, but I guess I’ve had practice in other ways.”

What. The. Fuck.

Respectfully, you didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Gross, I don’t need to hear about all that.” You lightly hit his shoulder, almost frowning selfishly when he didn’t even take his eyes off the road.

“Hear about what?” He feigns ignorance, but you swear you can see a flicker of a smirk on his mouth. “Your sex life, Daniel!”

“Woah woah woah - I never said anything about sex! That’s just all your perverted thoughts, assuming the worst in me.” There it is, there’s that smirk he was so desperate to hide. You try to fight it with an eye roll.

“Dick.”

“God, penis on the goddamned brain! You’re so fuckin’ filthy, babe.” He was obviously joking and yet there was something there that had you squirming in the car seat. “Shut up. You win tonight.” His face warms up at your comment, you can’t find it in your heart to truly hate him for it. Your comment only happened to foreshadow what was to come.

By the time Danny gets and finishes his food, you’re both sitting in silence in some darkened car park. This is no different from the usual after work trips, but something really seems different in the air.

The silence was peaceful, almost kind of soothing. For a second, it felt like you two might be the only two people left at the end of the world. Of course, this wasn’t the apocalypse and the biggest hurdle in your life at the moment was the internal battle with your feelings for the boy seated beside you.

His hands were still gripping the steering wheel but the car was in a static standstill. You hoped he was just as nervous as you were.

“I’ve been thinking about what you were saying, by the way.” He finally spoke, causing your head to turn to him.

“I say a lot of things, Dan. Gonna have to be more specific.” A smug smile greeting him when he turned around to meet your waiting eyes. He sent a blank look your way, taken out of context it would’ve seemed like he was actually fed up with you.

“Like, the whole spending time with you thing. I’m glad we met too.” You couldn’t help but bite your lip, looking at him through long lashes, an almost siren’s gaze. “Danny, it seems like you’ve gone all soft on me.”

He almost cringed at your words. If there had been one thing that Danny had been when he’d been thinking about you recently it definitely wasn’t soft. He prayed that you weren’t secretly a mind reader, but you could tell you had prodded enough from the way the atmosphere shifted.

“I like going on these drives with you, it helps me clear my mind I guess.” Danny continued to play with the leather of the steering wheel. As bad as it sounds, he’d found a spot he could lightly rip up with his nails and it became his new fixation when he was fidgeting. “And I was maybe wondering if you’d like to go on more of them. With me… not just like after work or anything.” He stuttered, kind of scared to meet your gaze again. One thing he hated was how much you made him squirm. You had a specific talent for making him nervous, but at the same time the feeling was so addictive that he didn’t want you to stop.

“Is this like you asking me on a date?” Brows raised, your fingers fell to the hem of your shirt subconsciously doing the same fidgeting that Danny was performing in front of you.

“No! Not like, I don’t mean anything like pervy or that despite what I was, like, joking about-” He moved in defence, his hands raised as if to block her joke from reaching him.

“I’m fucking with you. You know I love our drives, they’re our drives.” You said it with such conviction that despite not really saying anything he completely understood what you meant. These little trips no matter how far they went felt special to them.

He softly chuckled, feeling like whatever barrier he’d been putting up was falling. “You’re obsessed with me.”

“Shut the fuck up, Danny.”

“It’s okay! I’m a little obsessed with you too! We can be mutually obsessed with each other - that’s how friendships work!” For a moment, you realised that maybe the way he spoke to you - the way you spoke to each other - was what kept you coming back to him. He was attractive, sure, but something was so free about the way you could speak around each other.

But also, god, he was so attractive.

He leaned back against the headrest, you took the time to appreciate his soft jaw. Those damn pink lips. As much as you’d been trying to not admit it you were desperate to feel them on your neck. There was nothing more you wanted right now than to lean over and kiss him with such ferocity that you’d both forget your own names.

You most definitely shouldn’t be feeling these ways. Aside from him being a friend, he was a co-worker. Relationships like that always ended so messily.

“I think I pity you actually, why do you have to stay so quiet, Dan? Couldn’t have been good if they didn’t even make you moan.”

“I didn’t say they couldn’t make me, I just said I was good at being quiet.” You both paused for a moment, where did you go from here? You could open Pandora's box, and let out whatever tension you’ve been feeling or you could stay within the safety of his friendship.

“Was hard for them to stay quiet though.” Your chest tightened, you felt like all of the air had disappeared in the car.

Holy shit.

“I’m sure they managed just fine.” Managing to choke out a swift comeback, trying to appear as sardonic as you possibly could. “Yeah, my hand sure helped.”

Another blow to the system. He was good at this.

He shifted, like he was preparing for his next hit. “You talk too much to be quiet, I think.” Another stab to your chest, screw him. You were going for the kill.

“Maybe I just need a helping hand.” Your eyes shifted to his own hands, still on the wheel. He’d noticed. He was coming for blood.

“That can be arranged, sweetheart.” If this was Mortal Kombat, his streak would be unreal. “I don’t think you’d be able to handle me.” You countered, you were ashamed to admit you were losing the fight. “I think I’m a little too wild for you, Dan.”

“Prove it.”

The killing blow.

If this was a film, this would be the part where you pounce on each other and fight for dominance with your tongues. But this is not a movie, and as passionate as that sounds, the thought of your tongue as some sort of roman gladiator kind of made you feel icky.

All you could do was respond with exhaling a breath you never realised you were holding, kind of amused. You tilted your head as if to say, ‘touché’.

And that was that.

He got you home safely as he would any other night, watching you as you entered the house. Through the peephole, you could see him linger for a moment staring at your door. He rested his head once again on the headrest, this time looking exasperated. Running a hand through his platinum hair, he started the engine and left.

Bed sheets twisted in hand, you weren’t proud to admit just how much of an effect his words had on you. But lying there, your fingers softly playing with your clit, you didn’t really feel guilty either. You thought once again of his own fingers on you, a little rough with you. The rhythm of them as they throbbed within you, he’d know exactly what tempo would ruin you.

Initially you were concerned about looking him in the eyes the next time you saw him, but when you got another good look at him that feeling quickly went away. He was intoxicating to be around. How were you this down bad for him?

The rides continued as normal, if not more frequently now. Always tiptoeing on the line between playful banter and the most delicious flirtation you’d ever partaken in was like whiplash. But you couldn’t stop.

Speculation about the other's sex life could be tried and tested, each playful answer given offering a thrilling image that would be used to fuel lonely fantasies behind bedroom doors.

After you had to travel to Oregon for a family emergency, contact with Danny again grew to a halt. It wasn’t like you were desperate to speak to him all the time but in the moments you weren’t busy, he was usually at work, in classes or looking after his sisters.

DANNY

miss u u massive fucking loser

(sent at 22:37)

YOU

die

(seen at 22:39)

miss you too

(seen at 22:39)

how is life without me?

(seen at 22:39)

DANNY

sucks

(sent at 22:39)

going to strangle bridget if she comes into my room one more time perhaps

(sent at 22:40)

as soon as ur back in the state ur getting ur cute little ass into my goddamn car and i am going drive u all around the city

(sent at 22:40)

YOU

that’s kidnapping?

(seen at 22:40)

DANNY

cry about it

(sent at 22:40)

what did u do today my beloved?

(sent at 22:41)

YOU

shopped for lingerie

(seen at 22:41)

It hadn’t been a lie, you had visited the local mall and picked up some stuff - some of it had just happened to be nice underwear.

DANNY

HOT

(sent at 22:42)

send pics

(sent at 22:43)

There was a great potential here that you had to consider. Danny could literally just be joking, this wasn’t too far out of the things you usually teased each other with. But, at the same time you wondered if this would be a good way of getting back at him for making you squirm. Would you be crossing a line if you sent one or two unsuggestive pictures to him?

When the pictures were delivered, two of you in different sets of lingerie, he almost dropped his phone. You’d be the fucking death of him.

After a few minutes of no response but the screen indicating they had been seen, you began to panic. Fuck, what if this had all back fired? Were these unsolicited despite what he had said? Were you too dumb to read between the lines?

YOU

heyyyy you good lol

(sent at 22:52)

sorry if that was too much

(sent at 22:53)

Still a few more moments of no response. Until, both turned to (seen at 22:56).

DANNY

no sorry! i was helping my mom with make dinner

(sent at 22:56)

YOU

dinner at 11pm?

(seen at 22:57)

DANNY

we’re a hungry bunch

(sent at 23:00)

Biting your lip, all you could do right now so far away from seeing his actual reaction was take his word for it. Your phone pinged with a new notification.

DANNY sent a photo.

It was similar to what you’d sent, with him being shirtless and in his boxers. He’d taken it from a mirror, kneeling on the floor - tattoos on display. The things you would do right now to be in that room on your knees were unspeakable.

YOU

cold in there?

(seen at 23:02)

DANNY

freezing

(sent at 23:02)

need someone in new lingerie to come warm me up i guess

(sent at 23:03)

Initially, you typed out ‘good luck with that’ but paused before you hit send. You couldn’t just let this escape you anymore.

YOU

i’ll be home soon

(seen at 23:06)

After that, you could hardly wait to see him. None of your other chats after that quite reached that level of promiscuity. You were craving even more of him after seeing him like that. No longer did you need to imagine what he looked like under the uniform.

It wasn’t long until you were back in Los Angeles and already getting ready for him to come pick you up. You’d thrown on a cute white milkmaid summer dress, trying to look effortless despite you having the outfit planned for your return since that night you exchanged pictures. The new lingerie was incorporated as well, of course. Even if nothing came of all this, you were going to go out there knowing you looked damn good. A red cardigan was added on top, giving enough coverage for the hot LA nights.

You practically jumped into the car when he pulled up outside your house, shouting to nobody in particular that you would be out late tonight.

Cheshire cat-like grin on his face, just being beside him again made you remember just how much you missed him. “Hey,” He began, starting the ignition.

“Miss me?” You winked, hand softly playing with the back of his mullet for a moment as if you were greeting a pet. “You don’t know the half of it, babe.”

“Where are we heading for food?” You enquired, nothing had really been planned beyond just seeing each other. “Well actually, I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to mine for dinner tonight. My mom is working super late so, um, she invited you. Means we can still go on a drive til she gets home.”

Beaming, you immediately started nodding. “Oh my god, Danny! You’ve been talking to your mama about me.”

“Not like we spend most of our time with each other.”

“You’re obsessed! How long have I been saying this?” Smug assertion rolling off your tongue so easily, you realised you hadn’t actually answered the question. “Yeah, I’d love to come.” He smiled.

“Where are you thinking of going in the meantime?” You began to play with the hem of your dress, lifting it ever so slightly to expose more of your thigh. His eyes flickered to the new skin on show, thinking of you in those photos again. “Um, takeaway milkshakes in the park sound good?”

“Sounds great, actually.” And so off you went.

He picked strawberry, you picked vanilla. You were sitting in covered darkness, the overhead light of the car on to allow you to see one another. Sneaking glimpses of each other as you finished the drinks, giggling when you caught the other.

“What’s in Oregon?” He asks, all you’d been talking about up to that point was the workplace gossip you’d missed during your time away. You shrugged, “Parents are from there. I grew up there actually, I go back and forth occasionally.” You stopped to take a slurp of the sweet beverage.

“My great aunt is ill but its whatever. We’re not close or anything with that side of the family, it’s still sad I guess, but I don’t know. Just not like, to be a downer or anything, y’know?” The boy nodded beside her, “Yeah my mom’s family is kinda distant.”

You knew about his asshole dad disappearing. He spoke about him so little that you didn’t want to pry when he was obviously going through shit that didn’t really concern you. “Her mom, my grandma, she was kind of nuts.”

“Bummer. Fuckin’ stupid family shit, am I right?” You tried to lighten the mood. “Yeah, such a pain in the fucking ass.” He smiled. The mood had obviously taken a nosedive, so you attempted to liven it up a bit.

“I actually lost my virginity in Oregon a few years back.” Hand filing through your hair to push it back from your face, you shook your head. “Was like this stupid guy that knew my cousins. It was terrible.”

“I think I’ve got you beat, mine was in the bathroom at some random gig I went to with a girl from school. We never spoke after it.” Your face dropped, evidently feeling sorry for him. “Don’t feel sorry for me, man, neither of us were feeling it.”

“Wow, I don’t even know where the weirdest place I’ve had sex is, honestly.” Thinking through the few escapades you had partaken in, you realised most had been in homes when parents were out.

“That gig one was probably mine. Actually, I got a blowjob under the bleachers in senior year once, that shit was crazy.” Jealousy struck through your heart, who gave him it? He answered the question for you, “It was Brenda Glemmer.”

That bitch.

“Wow, someone’s jealous.” You hadn’t realised that you’d involuntarily said that last part out loud. “She was a dick to me, my hatred is not blowjob related.” Failing to convince him, he rested a hand on your shoulder in comfort. “Sure thing, babe.”

Rolling your eyes, you suddenly remembered your craziest experience of all. “Actually, I think I have you beat! I once got ate out in a graveyard!”

“Jesus christ, I’m not at all surprised you give such goth gf vibes.” He smirked, finishing his milkshake. “God, what I would’ve given to be that guy.”

Cheeks heated, “Fuck you!” You exclaimed.

“Not if I fuck you first!” That earned a smack and more giggling. He continued, “I knew you were into kinky shit like that.” But when the giggling died down, the deep wanting returned.

“Ever had sex in this car before?” You found yourself staring out into the blackness of the park, your heart beating the fastest you thought it may have ever beaten.

“No, can’t say I have.” His hands are clutching the wheel again. “Thought about it, though.”

“Oh really?” You were on full autopilot mode now, the words exiting your mouth only coming out as an act of self preservation in case you pass out from nervousness.

“You know I’ve thought about it.”

You turn to look at him, and there he was, already waiting for you. “You really should do something about it then.”

“Maybe I’m worried the girl I like doesn’t want it like I want it.”

“I think she needs it more than she needs to fucking breathe, Danny.”

And that was that.

Lips desperately pressed to one another, needy to taste what you had been anticipating for months now. His face was just as warm as yours, the heat only adding to the feverish feeling.

You tasted like vanilla and sweetness, like sunset and cinnamon. Your hands knotting with his hair, he begged you to tug on it with a groan, you had to comply. It had been a while since you had last kissed anyone, but none had ever even come close to this. Laced with absolute desire and greed from both sides, taking whatever you could both get after wanting it so badly for so long.

His hands began to gently pull the cardigan from your shoulders, throwing it to the backseat before dipping his fingers under the straps of your dress. It was here, unfortunately, you had to stop him.

“Nuh-uh, not here. Too creepy.” You bit your lip, worried that you were out of options.

“I think I know a place.”

Hastily reversing, he sped off in the direction of his own apartment building. The underground carpark often lay abandoned after around 10pm, leaving it an ideal place for a potential late night escapade. His mom would get a ride to the front of the building, meaning if she did come home there would hopefully be zero crossover, especially with him having the remote with him in the glove compartment.

Right hand dropping to rest on your thigh, you couldn’t help but notice how good he looked with one hand on the wheel, brows furrowed in concentration.

For a moment, it was like neither of you really knew what you were going to do when you got there. You were kind of spoiled for choice, not really ever having a place to yourselves with you both still living with parents. This car granted multiple opportunities - or as Danny was thinking, interesting positions. He needed to try them all.

You could feel your arousal pooling beneath you, while Danny continued through the traffic, you crossed your legs over and began to grind your thighs together for temporary relief. Eyes flicking from the road to your sexually frustrated figure. Slowly, opening your legs ever so slightly, he holds the hem of your dress and lifts it back, exposing the underwear. He recognised it immediately, licking his lips.

“You’re fuckin’ bad.” You smirked at his words, “Like it?”. You feign innocence, twirling a strand of hair with your finger.

Danny groans, moving the hand from your thigh to brush his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, really, really like it.” His fingers go back to trace along your entrance, underwear soaked already. You couldn’t even feel embarrassed, not when the fingers you had been imagining on you for so long were touching you like this.

Your hand hovers over his own, and you press his digits into your cunt. You emit a dark sigh, a noise that makes Danny want to pull over and fuck you on the sidewalk out in the open. Guiding his hand against you, working you up into the unspeakable rhythm, you begin to knead your breast with your other hand. Feeling delirious with goosebumps growing on your skin, you lean forward to press kisses against his neck. Tongue flicking under his silver chain that you’ve been dying to taste for so long. “Stop distracting me,” He groans, without doing anything to stop you.

He was pushing a little harder on the peddle, doing everything in his power to not get lost in the view of your cleavage, knuckles white wrapped around the wheel.

After what felt like a lifetime, the car pulled into the darkened garage. He fumbled with the remote, almost dropping it in a rapid attempt to press the button. The buzz of the gate finally indicated, the shutter lifting. With that, you guessed your fate was sealed.

Danny made sure to park in the far back, if anyone did come down here they would hopefully have a hard time noticing the pair.

As soon as the keys were turned, Danny was pulling you into his lap. You started to rock your hips on him, not applying too much pressure in a further attempt to torment him.

“Too scared to take me upstairs to meet mommy right now?” You teased, running your hands through his hair. He made no effort to hide how much pleasure the sensation was giving him. “Just absolutely desperate to fuck you right now, if I’m being honest.” He was almost breathless, struggling to get the words out with you grinding on him the way you were.

You smirked, his right hand travelling from your hips, to your breast, to your neck. “So, so pretty.”

You stopped him, desperate to ask him a question that had been playing on your mind since it happened. “Were you really helping your mom with dinner when I sent those pictures?”

“Fuck no, they were saved to my camera roll the second they came through.” You scoffed. “I fucking knew it!”

“Yeah, yeah. As if it was hard.” He holds your hips down onto his own and for the first time you feel the thickness under you. Both of you breathing wildly, grinding into each other, knowing there's still far more to even come. It was exhilarating.

“I think I know something else that might be really hard right now.” Here you were, working yourself up on his lap. You were sure your wetness had soaked through his shorts. “Wonder whose fault that is?”

Your lips were back on his, and immediately it was like another hit of the most powerful drug. The way he moved with you, his grip on you was egging you on even more. You wanted to be so bad for him.

His fingers once again fell to your underwear, pushing them aside to feel just how wet you really were. “Fuck.” He murmured, beginning to rub his thumb over your clit. “Danny,” You moaned in retaliation.

Without warning, he sunk his middle and index fingers into you. Slowly pulsating inside you, you gasp for air. Falling back and-

BEEEEEEEP

The sound of you pressing against the wheel causes you both to jump, but also causes Danny’s fingers to go further inside you - leading to another moan.

You both giggle, not stopping with the new depth and pace as we works up into you. “I seriously need to stop doing that.” You fall against him, forehead placed against the other. “Wanted to feel you for so long.” He mumbles.

“Mhmm?” You were in too much bliss to properly respond as he nodded, “Feels good?” You nodded in return. He starts to suck on your neck, biting the areas you react the most to. You thought this feeling of closeness was unobtainable, yet here you were with him.

Pressing a light kiss, you whine when he removes his fingers from beneath you. He lifts his index to his mouth, licking it. “You taste fucking amazing,” Danny smiles at your wide eyes. “You want a taste?” Again, you nod. He places the two fingers in your own mouth. “Suck, baby.” He commands you and you follow without hesitation. His jaw goes slack at the sight of your sucking his fingers, tongue making little circles around his fingertips to show what you’re capable of.

Letting them go, you mumble, “I think I wanna go in the back seat, Dan.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, wanna taste your cock.” Well, that’ll do it. You’re practically launched backwards through the small gap to get to the back of the car. Danny instead swings the driver side door open, ejecting the chair forward and climbs in on top of you. Pinning you down, you reach for his dick as his hands grip your waist. Kissing you with a ferocity somehow not even present in the kisses from before, he presses you against him.

Pulling away to gasp for air, with your help Danny yanks his sweater and baggy t-shirt off in one fell swoop. His shorts get thrown on the floor, leaving him in his boxers. He reaches for the zip of your dress, pulling the straps down and ripping it off your body right from under you. “I’ve been thinking about you in this everyday since you sent me that picture.” He plays with the straps of bra, noses touching and breath light on your face. His soft eyes on your figure, taking a moment to take it all in.

“Well, maybe three times a day.” You softly smack his chest as you fall into him, giggling as he plays with the hooks at the back. You shake the bra off and reach for your underwear, leaving you totally exposed. Danny, giving a second to take in the view of your naked body, pulls down the waistband of his underwear. From the immediate sight of his cock, precum dripping from the tip, you’re compelled to lick it.

On your knees beside him in the back seat, you lick a stripe up the length of him before taking him in your mouth. You stay like this, head bobbing as he grabs a chunk of your hair and gently guides you with the other hand on your head. With a little difficulty, you look up at him, his head thrown back on the headrest and his mouth stuck in the shape of an ‘O’.

“Stop, stop. Fuck, c’mere.” He picks your torso up by your arms and guides your lips back to his, before pulling your legs over so you’re now straddling him.

Rubbing his length against your clit, he begins to suck on more bare spaces around your neck and chest. You hold his head as you rock into him.

“Danny, I can’t- I need to feel you now.” He nods hastily, and positions himself under you.

You lower yourself onto him, letting out a guttural moan at the feeling of him filling you. You wrap yourself around him as he grits his teeth, holding your hips as you start to ride him.

Face buried in his neck, you whimper as you set a steady pace, fingers twisted tightly in that blonde mullet you loved so much. Your knees dig into the seat, you can feel yourself coming undone.

He rips your head from the crevice, getting a good look at you as he starts to take the lead and rolls up into you.

“Such a pretty baby,” His hand wraps around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. The hand drops to your neck, as his other wraps around your thigh, giving more guidance. “Keep talking,” You struggle out, fucking yourself into him at this point. By this point the windows are fogged and you’re sure the car is rocking by now.

Your fingers wrap around his hand on your neck, begging him to hold it a little tighter, a little rougher. He tuts, before connecting his hand to your backside with a loud smack.

“You’re fuckin filthy, you know that?”

“Yes, yes, Danny, fuck!”

“Fuck, you’re better than anything I ever imagined.” With two taps to your waist, you both stop. You’re evidently growing weaker, all fucked out on his dick. He flips you around so your back is lying on the seat. You’re all sprawled out in front of him, hair kind of crazy, but he swears to god he’s never been more attracted to any human being ever.

He presses himself down on top of you, balancing his weight so you’re not crushed but something feels so intimate about the way he’s on you.

Smiling again, he plants out of time kisses onto your lips whenever he can. Forearm above your head to keep him balanced, palm lovingly on your crown to support you. His eyes watching your face closely, this was it. Fuck, this was really it.

The feeling that could only be explained as a tidal wave of wet hot rising, Danny’s pace guiding it to where it needed to go.

“I’m gonna, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He whimpers, picking up his pace while still visibly shaking. You pull his forehead down to yours as he continues to work his hips into you. Your thighs are holstered far above his hips, offering a perfect angle for you both. The feeling of him filling you up was enough to send you over the edge.

“Dan, shit, me too.”

“C’mon baby, needed this for so long. It’s always been you.” With those finishing words, you couldn’t hold back any longer. Body shaking with the orgasm rippling through you, Danny beginning to come down from his own.

For a while, you both sat in the corners of the back seat, as if you were boxers in a ring. Your eyes stayed trained on each other’s bodies as you caught your breaths.

You crawl over to him, finally resting in the space between his legs as his arms wrap around your body.

“Do you think it would be awkward if I could stay the night?” You finally announced. You turned to face him. “It wouldn’t be, like, weird if we slept in the same bed, right?”

“My dick was literally just inside you.” His palm resting on your jaw, lovingly stroking his thumb over your cheek. “And? Maybe you hated it!” He shook his head, “That was the best thing I’ve probably ever experienced in my life.” He left a kiss on your jaw, where the ghost of his fingers still lingered.

His mom probably would be fine with her staying as well, seeing as she wasn’t really judgy with the whole boy and girl sleepover thing.

“Just a fair warning, my sisters are a fuckin’ pain in the ass.” He shook you off him, beginning to locate both of your scattered clothing and collect yourselves. “That’s cool. I’m excited to meet them.”

For a second, he watched you get ready, still eyeing your body. Your neck and chest were covered in purple markings left by him. He smiled wistfully, appreciating his work along with your figure. You clocked him watching and rolled your eyes, “Perv.”

“You’re cute.” He skimmed his hands over each one, as if it was the world’s most abstract dot-to-dot puzzle. You realised just how many hickies covered you. “Fuckin’ asshole.” Before he could grab it, you snatched his sweatshirt from beside him, offering you more coverage than your cardigan would allow. “How the hell am I gonna cover these up when I see your mom?” Danny shrugged once again, still finding the whole situation amusing and honestly, kinda hot.

“Just say it’s a birthmark,” He began to press soft kisses on each hickey. “Or maybe I’ll just have to keep one hand around your neck at all times.” You lightly smacked him, but it didn’t deter him from the task at hand. Your gaze softened, lifting his chin up so you were both eye to eye.

“So obsessed, huh?” He nodded at your words, stealing another kiss from your lips. You’d let him take as much as he wanted of you. “You know it.” And another, and another, until he was kissing every inch of your face as you tried to bat him away.

Leaning into his ear you whisper, “Maybe later, you can show me just how quiet you can be?” He almost growls at your statement, you press a finger to his lips. The promise of more to come was exhilarating to the both of you. He parts with a soft bite to your neck, softer than the ones offered earlier.

He held your hand all the way to the apartment, and in the elevator you nestled into his neck. The feeling of him, his scent, so strong all around you was enough to make you totally intoxicated with the mere thought of him. Looking up, you catch him looking down at you, soft smile playing on his lips.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

#danny evil dead x reader #danny evil dead rise #evil dead #evil dead rise #morgan davies #morgan davies imagine #evil dead smut #danny evil dead rise x reader #danny evil dead #danny x reader #evil dead x reader

890 notes · View notes

nightfang22 · 1 year ago

Note

For the wayne smut could you add the idea of them losing their virginity to each other. Thank you<3

Of course I can!Thank you so much and I hope you love it!Sorry if it's not great,it is my first spicy fic.Anyways,lemme know what you think!

Virgin Lovers

Warnings:SMUT Minors DNI

Pairing:Wayne McCullough x f!Reader

Word Count:1.5k

His smile. His eyes. His lips. Wayne McCullough infected your every thought. He made you feel things that you had never felt before. As you were lost in thought, you didn't realize that your phone had been constantly buzzing. You picked it up on the third ring of the 4th call. "Hello?"

"Hey Y/n, you got any plans later?" It was Orlando. You and Orlando had always been good friends which is how you met Wayne. Orlando had introduced you two one day when you had begged him not to make you skip class alone.

*Flashback*

"Pleaseeeee Orlando? I don't wanna go alone and you're way better at this than I am! Besides, I'm only skipping to help you get these new Pokemon cards you wanted! I don't have to do this, you know." You pouted and whined until he conceded. "Fine fine I'll go with you. You probably wouldn't know what to look for anyways." You were about to make an offended rebuttal when something else caught his attention. Or someone, you should say. Turning around to see who it was, you thought it was just going to be the girl he's been constantly crushing on with a spinal cage. But no. When you turned around, you saw none other than Wayne McCullough walking in your direction down the hallway. You felt your heart pound and your cheeks flush. Your throat constricted and suddenly your mouth had run dry. You guess Orlando had noticed this and nudged you in the side with his elbow. "Oooo somebody got it bad, huh? Who is it? Is it the guy with the clarinet you have band with?" You jabbed him with your elbow back and tried not to stare at Wayne's gorgeously bruised up face. Orlando caught notice and smiled wide. "Oh, you got it bad for my boy, Wayne huh? Want me to hook you up?" Your head snapped violently in his direction. "I swear to the Gods Orlando, if you embarrass me in front of him I will kill you." Wayne walked up to us and looked at Orlando, giving a little head nod. "Wayne man! Where you been?" Wayne chuckled a little and it was this sexy soft rumbling noise. "Whatcha mean? I'm like 20 minutes late." Orlando laughed. "Yeah 20 minutes and like 3 weeks!" Orlando must have seen you fidgeting with the rings on the chain around your neck cause he put his hand on your shoulder and looked at Wayne. "Wayne, this is Y/n L/n. She's new-ish. She was new, like a month ago." You felt Wayne's eyes on you and you looked up at him through your eyelashes before smiling awkwardly. "Y/n, this is the man. The myth. The legend. My best friend, Wayne mothafuckin McCullough." Wayne punched Orlando in the shoulder and he winced. "Damn man! I'm tryin to do you a favor!" Wayne's eyes never left yours, even when you felt your cheeks tinge pink and you looked away briefly.

*Flashback Over*

You had been inseparable ever since. Wayne ended up cutting class with you and at some point you had completely lost Orlando and went to some record store where Wayne had asked you if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. You and Wayne have been together for 3 years now and you could never be happier.

"Uh not really. Probably just homework. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me and Wayne to this club off campus later? It's supposed to be super rave and like alternative vibes and I know that's your shit. It took me forever to get Wayne to agree and I maybe sorta already told him you'd go?" "Orlando!"

"I'm tryin to get a hot goth girlfriend! Help a brotha out!"

I sigh in defeat through my nose. "Fine. I'll go. But the moment anyone is too drunk, we're leaving. Got it?"

"Yeah yeah for sure! Thanks, Y/n! You the best!"

*Timeskip to the club*

You look around at your environment. It's a lot of flashing lights and loud music. Not really your scene. You scan the crowd for Orlando and Wayne when you spot them against the wall outside. You walk up to them and you notice Wayne's eyes scan up and down your body. You're wearing a faux leather 2 piece with a silver body chain covered in dangly purple and blue rhinestones with black sparkly platforms. "Hey guys, sorry if I'm late I-" You get interrupted by Wayne pulling you in by the waist. He keeps you close to him and it looks like he's glaring at something when you look up at his face. You look over and see him glaring at some guy. The creep looked like he was eyeing you and you weren't for it. You curled closer to Wayne before Orlando waved us to go inside with him. The place was loud but very hype and fun. It didn't really seem like your kind of scene though. You don't get why Orlando wanted us to come. Neither you or Wayne were much of the party type. After watching everyone dance for a while, you decided to call it a night.

Wayne took you home and got you settled inside, laying you down in bed. You just laid there staring at his beautiful face. "I love you." Wayne never blushes but his cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. You don't know where the courage came from but you leaned up and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss quickly evolved into a heated makeout session. Wayne crawled into bed on to of you, pulling away only to take off his shoes cause he knows you have a thing about shoes on the bed. His hands roam your body in your pretty outfit. You pull away tossing off your body chain and making quick work of his shirt. Wayne wasn't necessarily 'buff' but he was very well tones and had a gorgeous frame. Your hands glided from his shoulders down to his waistline, working on the button of his jeans. He pulled away to look at you. "Are you sure? I-I mean I've never. And you've never. What if you regret it?" You pull him in for a sweet kiss. "I could never regret it. If anything, I wouldn't want to lose it to anyone else." That must have really got him going cause he practically tore off your clothes. He slid his jeans off along with his underwear and kissed my neck, pulling a gasp from you. When he pulls away, you finally have a good chance to look at him and holy fuck. You didn't realize your boyfriend was so….well endowed. Big enough that it looked like it might hurt. Wayne grabbed something out of his wallet and when you noticed what it was, he looked at you sheepishly. "Orlando gave it to me." He shrugged and smiled shyly. He rolled on the condom and crawled back over you. "And you're absolutely sure?" You nodded and placed your arms around his neck so that you could play with his hair. He placed himself at your entrance before stopping. "Hang on gimme your leg." You looked at him confused before lifting your leg and he placed it up on his shoulder, doing the same with the other one. "I read somewhere that it hurts less if you do it like this." He realigned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You felt tears prick your eyes as he stretched you and he kissed your forehead, stopping. He made you look into his eyes. "Are you okay? Do we need to stop?" You shook your head. He stayed still, waiting for you to adjust until you nodded you head. He began to move and even though it hurt, it was a good hurt. You moaned softly as he bottomed out inside you. Wayne gently bit down on your shoulder and kissed it before placing his forehead on yours, beginning to find a steady rhythm. Your moans were the sweetest sound he had ever heard and he just wanted to keep hearing them. With one especially rough thrust he hit that special spot inside you and you arched your back while digging your nails into his and he ate that shit up. He continued at that pace as you screamed out his name in pure ecstasy. You felt the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and your breathing picked up more. He held you close as you came crashing down from your high as his hips stuttered, painting the inside of the condom with his seed. He pulled out slowly, tossing the condom into the bin. He got up to grab a towel to clean you up and brought back a glass of water for you. After you're all cleaned up, he crawls back into bed with you, covering you up and pulling you close as you slowly fall asleep in his arms.

#wayne 2019 #wayne series #wayne mccullough x reader #wayne x reader #wayne mccullough #orlando #x reader #y/n #x y/n #smut #female reader #established relationship #lemon #fanfiction #fanfic #spicy #not enough people write for this fandom #please gimme more asks #please please please

813 notes · View notes

deathofacupid · 7 months ago

Note

helloo this is my first time in a while requesting so if this doesn't make much sense then that's whyy

could I please request peter parker with an s/o who does competitive cheer as a sport, and gets hurt a lot because they have a lot of main parts in routines (like tumbling nd holding girls up nd stuff), peter is always concerned for them cuz they r always hurting something but he also loves seeing them perform at comps and stuff

if you want a better understanding of the sport u could research! but thanks in advance <3

pom-poms and bruises | peter parker

a/n: your request was great, no worries! i did do my fair share of research, but lemme tell you, my knowledge on cheer (or, like, any sport) is mad limited. if i got some information incorrect, i apologize in advance! i took... creative liberties (?) and changed some minor details - instead of competitive cheer, it's high school cheer. enjoy the fic, and i hope i did this request it's justice. sorry this took so long!!

summary: peter can't help but worry seeing you all bruised up, but no matter what, he's your biggest fan.

warnings: the ouchies, innuendos to sex

pairing: fem!cheerleader!reader x peter parker

word count: 1.8k+ words

"oh jeez," peter sighs, rubbing his thumb over the bruise on your cheek. it was a blue-purple, indicating that it was fresh. "what happened?"

you wave him off, grinning, "you know how it goes, battle scars and all."

"scar?" he cocks a brow.

sighing, "battle bruise isn't half as badass."

"right, i forgot the most important thing is proclaiming our dominance in the social hiearchy of the big ol' globe. and obviously not our physical health."

"you wouldn't understand, baby. it's a full time job."

gently, peter pushes you up against your locker. leaning in to whisper, he says, "i wouldn't, angel? best believe i've got battle scars of my own."

"ugh. so not the same. not everyone has the luck of getting to be a human-spider."

"yeah, okay, luck."

"you seriously cannot complain," you deadpan. "that bite did you favors! like, down there, you grew at least- mmph-!"

peter covers your mouth with his hand, "we are not having this conversation."

"it was a compliment! i mean, it's not like you sucked before or anything. i'm just saying it... improved... you."

"somehow, this isn't going the direction you think it is."

"oops. i didn't mean to hurt your over-inflating ego."

"first off, if anyone has an ego that needs to be kept in check, it's you."

"don't blame me," you tell him, "blame the girls," you're referring to your cheer team, pinching his cheeks. "but... maybe i can compensate with a kiss?"

he feigns annoyance, "i suppose." in response, you lean in for a kiss, melting at his touch.

peter kisses your bruise as well, letting it linger for a moment longer. "does it hurt?" he asks.

"barely," you shrug, leaning in for more, but he isn't quite focused on that at the moment. giving you a look, he softly pokes your cheek, to which you wince.

"right. barely."

"don't be a worry-wart, worry-wart."

"i'm not! 'm just concerned!"

"puh-lease," you scoff. "you come back worse! remember that time you broke and entered into my bedroom, then proceed to bleed out onto that cute new rug?"

he looks down, epitome of cute puppy. "yes," peter says, guilty, "i do."

you pat his stomach, nuzzling your nose against his. "see? so you have nothing to worry about. me, on the other hand," you trail off.

"nah. you don't have anything to worry about either, angel."

"watch me worry anyways," you snort.

he pinches your cheeks, and you swat his hands away. "watch it!"

"you're my intellectual property."

"oh, so you're objectifying me now?"

"wait- no! no, of course not!"

"lemme me just say right now, may would not be happy."

peter groans, shoving you away.

"no!" you giggle, "i'm sorry! i won't snitch!"

he peeks an eye open, turning his head just barely to look at you. "fine, i guess," peter pulls you back.

"hey, petey?"

"hm?" he asks, nuzzled in your neck. there's just a few minutes before class starts, and he wants to make the most of it.

"are you coming to the game? it's my first year of being captain, and, well, it'd be cool if you came." suddenly you're more bashful than giggly, and he's quick to assure you.

"are you kidding me? of course i'm coming. i'm not missing the chance to see my girl shine.

"you sure? because i know you don't care for foot-"

"shhh," he presses his palm to your mouth. "yeah, i hate football, but i just to happen to love y- god!" he exclaims as you lick his hand, but in your defense, what did peter expect?"

"you put in on my mouth!"

peter narrows his eyes at you, "vermin."

"see you tonight?"

"see you tonight," peter replies as the bell rings. with one last kiss, you part ways.

your hair was done, two yellow and blue bows to tie the look together. midtown theme eyeshadow was painted on your eyelids, with stars dotted on your cheekbones. you have your cheer uniform on, and you're basically jumping with how giddy you are.

part of you is nervous, because you don't want to mess this up. every year, a senior is picked to be captain, with a junior as a mentee. not only do you have to set a good example for the junior this year, but you have to wow everyone.

checking your makeup one more time, you grab your purse, heading out to the car.

by the time you get there, your teammates are already stretching. on the other side of the field, football players are warming up. last year, liz was captain, well, before she moved. then she got replaced by gwen.

you knew liz and peter... okay, so you weren't completely sure, but they had something. some part of you wanted to be better than liz, entirely for peter. you know it was silly, but you felt like you had something to prove. some families are already in, which is funny, because there's an hour to the game.

it's normally parents and friends of the cheerleaders/players that get here before most people, but there are some occasions.

peter's here, you know that. you haven't looked for him yet, but as you get up, you scan the bleacher. finally, you spot a curly, brown-haired boy (it helps that he's waving like crazy) and his aunt. you blow a kiss to them, grin present of your face.

tasha, one your girls, taps your shoulder, "we're gonna run our routine a couple times, okay? just before the game starts." you pull your eyes away from may and peter, nodding at her.

the familiar music of your routine starts playing. the first part's easy, synchronized movements, shoulder-to-shoulder.

as the routine progresses, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. you spot the base of the pyramid, their arms outstretched, and with a deep breath, you allow yourself to be pulled upwards.

their grip is firm and reassuring as you climb, hand over hand, until you reach the apex. a split second later, you're soaring through the air, launching into a full backflip.

as you launch yourself into the backflip, you feel your body twist off-axis. the ground rushes up to meet you, and with a sickening thud, you land flat on your face. a gasp escapes your lips, the sting of impact radiating through your jaw.

the cheers falter for a moment, but your teammates are quick to react. they rush to your side, concern etched on their faces. you sit up, momentarily stunned, but the pain quickly makes itself known.

just as soon as it's there, it's gone, leaving you slightly sore. "i'm okay!" you call out, lopsided smile on your face. the first person you look for is peter, who's already heading towards you.

gently, he moves everyone away. "jesus, are you okay? what'd you fall onto? your head? wait, are you dizzy? lightheaded? nauseated?" peter grabs your by the chin, hurry to inspect everything on your face.

"baby, baby," you say, cradling his hand. "i'm okay, i swear. i might've bruised something... like my ego," you joke, smile on your face, but he is not amused.

"no? okay. well, honestly my jaw is too, or will be," you point to the left side. "'s red?"

"yeah," he winces, "it's gonna leave a nasty bruise." you're sure it's not as bad with makeup on, but you can't be sure.

"does anyone have concealer?" you call out.

jenny, a girl that's your shade nods, "yeah! i'll grab it!" she tosses it to you, and you catch it perfectly.

peter presses his lips together, "so no concussion?"

"because i caught it? to be fair, that was mostly luck."

his eyes widen. "but no! i don't have any concussions!"

peter tilts his head, "icepack?"

"nah. i'm good, really."

he hesitates, "okay. be careful though, seriously." you don't feel like hearing a lecture right now, so you nod quickly.

"i will, i will!"

"because i swear-"

"you won't have to! i'm all good. now leave," you joke, "you're embarrassing me. if i wanted to be smothered, i would've asked for my mom."

he blows a raspberry at you, and gives you a quick kiss. "be careful," he repeats, "and good luck!" he jogs back over to may, and you watch him leave.

jenny giggles as you brush yourself off, "you guys are so cute."

blushing, you murmur a thanks. quickly, you grab your phone to cover up the forming bruise. and there's not really time for another run-through.

all you can do is hope it won't happen again.

there's a small dance at the start of the game and some other here and there, but it's not anything crazy. what is crazy is halftime.

as you get into your position, you fidget. "you'll be great," one of the girls tell you.

"thank you," you smile.

"yeah, no, you will," says another.

you don't feel super ready, not after that fall, but there's not much you can do about it.

the song, louder than before, echoes through your eardrums, a roll of excitement passes through you. no matter how anxious you are, you'll always love cheer.

it's your safe place.

the music swells, and you launch into a series of cheers with your teammates, your voice ringing out in perfect unison. as the routine progresses, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. you spot the base of the pyramid, their arms outstretched, and with a deep breath, you allow yourself to be pulled upwards.

their grip is firm and reassuring as you climb, hand over hand, until you reach the apex. a split second later, you're soaring through the air, launching into a full backflip.

you twist perfectly, landing with a confident thud back in the waiting arms of your base. the crowd erupts in cheers, and you beam, the thrill of the successful stunt coursing through you.

you did it, and everyone's squealing. peter's not that far from where you are, and you can hear him shrieking; "that's my girlfriend!"

you grin at him, and he whoops again.

the rest of the game flies by, and you finish the last routine. midtown ends up winning 20-17.

peter scooping you up in his arms, spinning you around. "that was awesome! seriously, like, mind-blown! and you didn't fall this time!"

may comes up beside him, hugging you, "you did fantastic, sweetheart. freaked me out with that fall, though," she chuckles, and you kiss her cheek. "my bad," you tell her, rubbing the back of your neck.

"hey, pete, hun, i'm gonna head out, okay? hospital shift was crazy."

you frown, "was it late?"

may sighs, "two a.m. to five p.m."

"oh, may, you should've gone home to get rest!"

"and miss my lovely girl's big night? you're crazy."

"aww," you coo, hugging her again. "sleep well, okay?"

"oh, please, i'll be knocked out like a baby." you laugh as she leaves.

"we should totally get ice cream," peter says.

"ooh, yes!"

"wait, don't you have an after party?"

"i'd rather spend it with you," peter pecks your lips. "and, we can have extra dessert," he winks.

you frown in confusion, "like cupcakes too? can we get cho- oh. oh! i really, really like that idea."

"good. i'm gonna let you know how badass of a girlfriend you are."

"why don't we skip straight to the second dessert? switch things up?"

taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod @one-piece-frvr7 @477strberry

#spiderman #peter parker #peter parker x reader #fluff #angst #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker imagine

162 notes · View notes

juyeonszn · 1 year ago

Text

JUST FOR ME

PAIRING ji changmin x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.26k

GENRES kinda fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, apparently ji changmin has a secret, established relationship, a whisker away ref <3, dacryphilia lol, making out, oral (m!receiving), face fucking lol, cum eating lol, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY ji changmin had a secret.

MORE hellaur hellaur!! i cannot believe i’ve written 8 of these in the past month like i’m actually sick in the head. but maybe u guys are even sicker for reading them idk… once fawntober is over i think i might spontaneously combust. ANYWAY i would like to dedicate this to the resident jichang lover <3 beam <3 consider this a late birthday gift <3 if u enjoyed pls rb!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

Ji Changmin had a secret.

A very big secret that he would never dare tell to anyone else. Not his friends. Not even you. Whether it was because he wanted to keep this to himself, take it to the grave type beat, or because he was embarrassed— the world may never know.

But as you cuddle into his side, sniffling over this stupid animated movie, he realizes that his big secret might be harder to keep to himself than he thought.

He’s seen A Whisker Away with you probably hundreds of times by now, and he’s seen you cry each and every time, but for some reason this is the one that gets to him. The sight of your pretty tears trickling down your cheeks, eyes slightly puffy and lips pouty, has his thinking clouded. Typical Y/N behavior, living in his mind rent free like it was your career.

He hopes the thick comforter of your bed hides just how turned on he is, licking his lips when a tear drips down your chin and onto your chest. Don’t even get him started on your pajama choice. Nothing but a thin camisole and flimsy linen shorts. Did you know that you were just one action away from sending him into cardiac arrest?

Changmin doesn’t even notice that the movie has ended and the credits are displayed, eyes still trained on the stray teardrops rolling down your sternum. It’s not until you’re reaching above your head to stretch, leg bumping into his hard on.

You turn to him with wide eyes and a gasp. “Changmin! No way you’re fucking horny right now.”

“I’m not?” His response comes out more like a question than a statement, so of course you don’t believe him in the slightest. You give him a pointed look.

“How could you possibly be hard after watching that?” Your eyebrows raise, judging him wholeheartedly without knowing the full story. Though, he’s almost certain you’d still judge him then, too. Who wouldn’t? Getting turned on by the sight of his girlfriend crying wasn’t exactly something that people would think is normal.

“That’s— uh— that’s not what— you know what, never mind. We can just go to sleep if you’re tired—” Changmin really wished you weren’t so persistent sometimes. Then again, your persistence was the reason you were together in the first place.

“No, I’m wide awake now,” you simper, a sly little smile that looks out of place paired with the tear streaks on your cheeks. “Lemme help you, Min.”

You peel back the covers, straddling his lap. Changmin groans, throwing his head back when your barely clothed warmth presses down on his erection. Your fingers card through his hair before you lean in to kiss him.

It’s slow at first, lips moving together gently as you work yourself up. One of the things Changmin loved about you was the fact that you were always so eager to please. He had a tendency of not asking for anything unless absolutely necessary, but with your keen sense of perception, you just knew when he needed a little extra care. Like right now, for example.

His hands find your hips, grinding them into his own as he nips your bottom lip. You sigh into the kiss, parting just enough to catch your breath. He slips his fingers under the waistband of your shorts but you shake your head.

“Mm-mm,” you start to pepper kisses all over his face and jaw, trailing down his neck. “Let me do the work. You just relax, okay?”

The service top he was, Changmin thought it would be a bit difficult to just let you have the reins. However, he pulls away his hands anyway, allowing you to exhibit your magic. You smile contentedly, shimmying down so your face was level with his crotch.

Changmin watches with bated breath as you haul his sweatpants and underwear down his legs in one go. He fists your hair in a makeshift ponytail, darting out his tongue to wet his lips when you leave a sweet kiss to the tip of his cock. He hisses as you wrap your hands around the base, pumping his length agonizingly slow.

His hips buck up into your hands, teeth gritted when your lips envelope the head. Your tongue drags over his slit, collecting the precum that’s begun to form. You moan when the taste of him settles, one hand sliding under his t-shirt to claw at his abdomen.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, you take him fully into the warm coziness of your mouth. Every time you gave Changmin head, you tried not to push yourself to swallow him wholly. You were afraid of embarrassing yourself by not being able to fit his impressive size down your throat. This time was different. You felt the need to provide him the best pleasure possible.

He thinks he might combust, focus zeroed in on your plush lips going further down his length and meeting your hand. Your eyes flutter open, making contact with his as you twist your wrist and start to bob your head. Changmin groans, using his free hand to fist at the sheets below you. You looked so fucking filthy like this, ass perked up in the air as you sucked him off like your life depended on it. But good God, you managed to still look absolutely gorgeous, even with the drool dribbling along your chin.

Instinctively, his grip on your hair tightens and he pushes your head down, forcing you to engulf his cock more than you already had. You gag, but steel yourself to power through. Changmin accepts his fate and lets himself loosen up, a conniving grin spreading across his lips.

“Gonna let me fuck your face, baby?” He coos, bending his knees and putting his feet flat on the bed.

You moan in approval, pulling off just to respond. “Mhm. Want you to feel good.”

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he bites his lip, bringing your face closer to kiss your swollen lips, your hand still jerking him off. “I’m gonna ruin you.”

He can taste himself on your mouth and it makes his release that much more exciting. You break apart, returning to what you were doing previously. This time, however, Changmin doesn’t hold himself back. He starts to fuck up into the wet heat of your mouth, cock sliding down your throat with a choked groan following each thrust.

Your eyes water, and before you know it, tears are tracking on your cheeks. He nearly whines, all sense of restraint lost completely as you continue to wrap around him, tongue swirling around the tip and running along each vein. Changmin feels insane, his orgasm building up higher and higher the more you take him— the more you cry for him.

It’s when one of your teardrops drips onto his stomach, your thumb swiping across his hip bone, that he cums into your mouth with a moan so out of character, you almost join him. You try to swallow everything he gives you, but it’s so much that you have to pull off of him, feeling it slip down the side of your mouth. Your hips roll into the bed to release some of the friction that formed.

Changmin wipes away the mixture of saliva and cum on your chin, stamping another slow kiss to your lips. You straddle him once again, whimpering when he presses up into your already sensitive cunt.

He smiles, fingers dipping into your shorts. “You did so well, baby. Let me return the favor.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz changmin #the boyz q #tbz changmin #tbz q #ji changmin x reader #ji changmin smut #changmin x reader #changmin smut #q x reader #q smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

339 notes · View notes

angelicpoison12 · 5 months ago

Note

Can you do angel dust x shy autistic male reader, the reader loves the texture of angels fluff.

absolutely!! I love autistic!reader fics sm thank you for requesting this! 🫶 i added the reader being nonverbal because as a selectively mute autistic, i feel like there aren't enough fics w/ being selectively mute!

wordcount: 741

tags: fluffy cuddles, tooth rotting fluff, nonverbal!reader, reader can't find their comfort object and has a shutdown, Angel being Angel, (platonic) use of petnames, Angel lets you touch his fluff teehee, SFW

— ✃☕︎︎ —

you enjoyed touching things. specifically, soft things. you always had a soft comfort object nearby to keep you calm; whether it was a small piece of soft cloth, a stuffed animal, the sleeve of a soft sweater, a blanket-whatever it was, it kept you at ease. today, all went to shit because you couldn't find it. "fuck, where is it? where is it?!" you nearly shrieked. you felt like the entire day was ruined, and it hadn't even gotten started yet.

you knew you needed to calm down. but how?

your mind finally hit 'fuck it', and you decided to just go on with the day without your comfort object. you'd be okay, right?

sitting in the hotel's lounge, you muttered in annoyance under your breath, not really wanting to deal with anyone right now. of course, we can't get everything we want, right?

"hey babycakes," you heard. you slowly lifted your head and turned your chin away from the voice, knowing from the Brooklyn-Italian accent that it was Hell's hottest porn star in the Pride Ring. Angel Dust. he sat next to you, kicking his heels up onto the table in front of the couch. "whats the matter with you? somebody gotcha blue?" Angel asked. your cheeks puffed with air, and you huffed, squirming to the furthest corner of the couch. "look, when somebody asks ya something, it's kinda rude to not respond, dollface." Angel said, his eyes softer now, not having the usual glimmer of mischief that they usually held.

you opened your lips to say something, but closed them, not wanting to act out. Angel could tell you weren't feeling the best. he didn't know you too awfully well, but he knew you weren't one to shut down without something going wrong. "lemme guess. uh.. somethin' bad happened?" you nodded. "hm. well what happened? was someone mean to ya?" you shook your head. "damn, okay. not makin' this too easy for me, toots. uh.. lost something?" you perked up and nodded vigorously.

Angel scooted closer, and you didn't push him away. well, not like you could anyways, you were basically smooshed into the corner of the sofa. "what'd ya lose, toots?" he asked. all you could do was rub your thumbs against your forefingers, as if you were feeling the pads, seeking sensory attention. Angel immediately noticed this and it was as if a lightbulb had clicked in his head. "ohhh.. i get it. ya always got somethin' with ya. you can't find it, dollface?" you nodded, your lips pursed in a sad pout, eyes wide and soft like glass. "aw, doll.. it's okay. can-uh, can i touch ya?" your eyes widened, and you quirked a brow. Angel was quick to throw his hands up and say, "no-no, no, not like that, babycakes-just uh.. i just wanna hold ya. maybe give you some comfort, y'know?" hesitantly, you nodded. you squeaked when Angel effortlessly pulled you into his lap, holding you with his four arms around you.

you noticed his fluffy chest, his soft jawline, pearly white teeth with his golden fang, mismatching irises, extra eyes, and spotted hair. you noticed your hand involuntarily reaching for his chest. you were quick to cower back. you knew Angel felt vulnerable enough having you in his lap, and you didn't want to push his comfort too far. Angel gently brushed some hair from your eyes as he said, "it's okay, babycakes. go ahead, i just got done brushin' my fluff this morning, it'd be a shame to let it go to waste." he said with a chuckle, smiling as he led your hand to his fluff. you swallowed, and tenderly squeezed his left fluff breast. you blushed, your cheeks a soft rosy blush. you pressed your ear to his chest, listening to the gentle, comforting melody of his heartbeat.

"aw, yer adorable, toots." Angel nearly cooed. his upper set of arms held you closer, pushing your head deeper into his fluff. you gazed up at him. from the nose down, your head was buried into the sweet-smelling white fur. you nestled closer to him, and you swore you heard his heartbeat quicken when you reciprocated, your arms holding his waist. "feelin' better, babycakes?" Angel asked, his voice soft. you nodded into his chest, nuzzling him like a sweet cat would. "good."

#hazbin hotel #masterlist #angel dust x reader #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel dust x male reader #angel dust fluff #angel dust drabble #angel dust x gn reader #angel dust x autistic!user #angel dust x autistic!reader #angel dust x mute!reader #angel dust x mute!user

138 notes · View notes

storiesandthingsofthatnature · 1 year ago

Text

Cradle Snatcher (Pt. 1)

Summary: You had told Leon that perhaps after he graduated from the police academy than maybe you would give him the time of day. You two have an age difference but it’s nothing too big. However it still weirds you out. But, with Leon Kennedy, can you really say no?

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: RE2! Leon Kennedy x fem! reader (afab) Warnings: Age difference (5 year age gap), breeding kink, biting, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t be silly~), cream pie, pre-ejaculation, dom/sub dynamics lemme know if I missed anything! Disclaimer: MDNI!!! 18+ only! A/N: Hi there! So I’m very new to the RE fandom so please be nice to me uwu. Anyway, I’ve been reading a lot of dominant Leon and while that shit is nice I also feel like subby Leon is just as hot~ I hope that I did him justice. Like the title says this is pt. 1 so pt. 2 shall be out soon enough! :D If you like my writing be sure to think about popping up in my inbox for some requests :3c I do other fandoms so just lmk! :D I may even make a post about my rules and such, idk. If I get enough of a following :3 Alrighty! Enjoy! :D

You had told Leon that when he had graduated from the police academy then perhaps you would give him the time of day. To be honest, you just felt like a cradle snatcher. Leon was about 5 years younger than you. He was 21 when he graduated and you were 26 and already a lieutenant in RPD. You didn’t want to have a relationship get in the way of work anyway but Leon was hellbent on making you see him as more than a new subordinate.

It all started when you were just the ripe age of 21 yourself. You were called to a high school to talk about RPD and how it may be a nice career choice for the young minds of Racoon high. Leon was one of the bright eyed students that sat right in the middle, his stare never leaving your silhouette as you talked about what could be expected on the job. After class, he had stopped you to ask a few questions. You were happy with his curiosity and answered all of his questions with fervor. You were a budding rookie yourself and anyone who was interested in the same subject that you held dear was a friend automatically.

Somehow he had wrangled your number out of you, saying that he would love to discuss further on possible internships and things of the like. It seemed like he was truly interested in policing and while that was true he was also very interested in you. Coupled with your beauty and passionate standing with justice and helping people, he couldn’t help but want to be sure that he had some way of keeping in contact with you.

However, he didn’t make a move until he was 18 and had just graduated high school. You two had interacted a lot since the first day, Leon following your shadow for “on-the-job” training and even studying on his own when he could. On the eve of his first day at the training academy, he confessed to you about how he felt. He was a blushing mess and he ran over his words a lot but it was probably the cutest confession that you ever had the pleasure of witnessing. It was full of pure innocence and a part of you wanted to ruin it~ But you stayed strong and gently let him down.

Again, you would feel like a cradle snatcher and while there was not that big of an age difference you still felt weird about it considering he had just graduated high school and was barely legal. But he was persistent, wanting to know the reason why. You couldn’t come up with a logical answer other than “You’re younger than me I’d feel weird.” And not wanting to lie to him you told him just that. He then started to ask if it would be because he was less experienced and that made you blush considering what that entailed. With a stutter you mutter a quick,”Maybe after you graduate.” And then quickly ran off to your office.

You really didn’t think that he would actually wait until he graduated to try again. You were sure that he would have found some cute rookie cop girl, to your dismay, and find happiness with them. However, when he invited you over to celebrate his graduation, you should have known something was off when it was just you. But you did not say anything as you two hung out and drank in celebration. Like the good boy he was, he hadn't drunk any alcohol until he was the legal age, you introducing him to new beverages and mixes.

After a few shots, Leon couldn’t help but try again. “Will you go on a date with me, [y/n]?” You choke on your drink, a part of you thinking that you should have seen this coming. But another had hoped that it wouldn’t happen. You cleared your throat of the froth,”Leon…” “I know what you’re going to say. That I’m too young for you but I think that’s absolute bullshit. I also know that it’s probably because I’m not all that experienced-” You sigh. “Leon, it’s not that-” “So let me prove to you that I can please you just as much, if not more, than any other guy you’ve been with. Use me.” You felt yourself go into cardiac arrest. He asked what now?! “Use…You?” Leon inched closer to you, eager to prove himself. “I can be your fuck toy.” He declared and you nearly passed out. “Leon.” His stare was stifling, filled with admiration and intent. “Please?” He asked, his fingers finding purchase on your thighs. “I know I can make you feel so good, just let me try?” He seemed to beg, his forehead coming to rest against yours. You audibly gulp. “Have you even been with anyone, Leon?” He gave a shy smile. “I’ve made out with a few girls but nothing more. Wanted to save myself for you.” He admitted and you have never felt so flattered.

You felt your resolve slipping away. Leon was a very handsome young man. You were sure that a lot of people would love to make him happy. But for some reason he wants you and you couldn’t understand why. “Why me?” You asked, your eyes resting on his lips. You licked your own and Leon’s pupils seemed to dilate at the sight. Leon gave a small laugh. “I could count the ways but I feel like we’d be here for a while and I really want you to fall apart on my tongue right now.” You gently push at him in play,”I’m serious.” He pulled back to look at you. “If I tell you, will you let me?” He was basically asking you if he had a chance and you just couldn’t say no to those beautiful, blue eyes.

You give in. “Fine.” You whisper and the giant smile that etched onto his face makes your heart swell. He was on you like glue, kisses eager and sloppy but you pushed him back gently. “Uh-uh, no reward until you tell me.” You gently laughed but you felt out of breath. His inexperienced kisses were enough to punch the air out of your lungs. Maybe you had it worse than you thought. He felt like whining but he kept it from bubbling out,”Your personality; from how passionate you are about your work to how motherly you are when you are amongst others that you have to look after.” He seemed to say that last bit fondly and that caught you off guard. “Motherly?” You wonder aloud and he nodded. “You handle people so well and in such a gentle way. It’s both nice and hot to see.” Well at least he was honest, you thought to yourself.

“Hot? How so?” You muse and you could tell that he was getting a little impatient. He wanted to touch you but you were going to see how long he could last before he snapped. His blush was heavy,”Do I really have to explain that part?” You hum,”Obviously, rookie. I’m very interested.” He gave a reluctant sigh,”You acting motherly…Makes me wonder how you would act if we had kids..” He admitted softly, you having no idea that this is what your Leon was thinking of you this whole time.

“Oh?” You ask with a glint in your eye. At first you weren’t really for this but now you were starting to get into it. Perhaps you had feelings for Leon that you hadn’t wanted to come to terms with. It’s just having him spill his heart out like this was moving and you couldn’t help the heat forming between your legs from his words. “Does my rookie want to make me a mommy?” You ask with a purr and Leon felt like he was about to explode from the embarrassment. You giggle at his reaction and cup his face in your hands to have him look at you. “Red looks nice on you.” You winked and he wanted to cup his face in his hands and groan.

While the idea of getting pregnant was definitely not a good idea for you right now, the thought of getting knocked up after this little encounter was enough to make you think twice on logistics. Well, if you had to make a “mistake” with anyone you feel like Leon would be the ideal partner. You find your way onto his lap, his expression turning surprised as you settle yourself over him. “[Y-y/n]?” You gently quiet him with a chaste kiss. “While I would love to learn more about how you feel about me, I can’t help but get riled up by that little imagination of yours.” You say and Leon audibly gulps. You place your arms across his shoulders, crossing your forearms behind him as you lean forward to brush your lips against his. “How about it, rookie? Wanna make me a mommy?” You whisper and Leon bucked his hips up against you.

“C…Can I?” His voice sounded hopeful, filled with pureness yet sticky with lust. You giggle and give a few languid kisses to which he shivered from. “As long as you don’t dip on me if you actually do end up getting me pregnant.” His hands found purchase on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he said,”Never.” That was the most confident he had been all night and it made you stutter. “O..Okay. You better keep your word.” You gently joke but at the same time, hope that he truly meant what he said. You lean forward again to capture his lips with yours, Leon returning with fervor. He took your lead and found a place between your hips. He kept his hands against you like you were going to run away and you slid your fingers through his hair to massage his scalp to try and tell him otherwise. He sighed contently into your lips, hips beginning to grind against yours. “S-Sorry.” He whispered, feeling a little embarrassed by his behavior but you give a shake of your head. “No, baby, don’t be. Feel good?” You ask and he gives a fervent nod.

“Such a good boy.” You purr and he groans from your praise, his hips picking up in pace. You let out little moans of your own, wanting Leon to know that he was being so good for you and your sounds alone were enough to nearly make him cum in his pants. He stopped grinding suddenly, brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to suppress his orgasm. “No, no no, that won’t do.” You say as you begin to grind down on him. “N-no, I’ll cum too soon.” He groaned and you hummed,”It’s not good to keep back your own pleasure. Besides, don’t you want me to see how good you look when you fall apart?” You say with a sly smile and he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “This was supposed to be the other way around….” He commented and you laughed.

“This is going to be your first time, right? Let me show you the ropes, rookie.” You say and you saw Leon visibly shiver. Suddenly, grinding was not enough for you and you fumble with the front of his jeans. He watches bashfully as you free him from his clothed restraints, his hot cock standing proudly against his shirt. You lick your lips at the sight. “Yes, I think this will do very nicely.” You tease and it was his turn to shove at you. You giggle as you wrap your hand around the base, a nice moan emanating from the back of Leon’s throat. “Hmmmm, let’s see~” You muse as you stroke him lazily, wondering just what you should do for his first time. Suck him off? That was tempting but didn’t he say that he wanted to be used?

“On your back, rookie.” You command and while he was a little confused he followed your instructions, you straddling his lap once more. “What are you-” “You want to be my fuck toy, right? Then be a good boy and lay there while I use your cock for my own pleasure, okay?” You say in a breathy voice and Leon was left in a stupefied state. “Yes, ma’am!” He practically squeaked out as he laid back against the cushions of the couch. You give a smile at him and begin to undo your own jeans. Slipping off both them and your panties in one go, the sight of slick connecting to the fabric made Leon’s hips buck up.

“Look what you did to me, rookie. Such a mess, huh?” You tease once more and Leon whines. “I’ll help clean up, ma’am. P-promise.” You hum in satisfaction and settle yourself over his tip. “Just one rule, okay? No touching - This is only for my pleasure, right?” You ask with a tilt of your head and Leon bit his bottom lip as he nodded. “Good~” And you slowly sank yourself down on him. Your head was thrown back as you were filled just right. God, past partners just couldn’t compare!

Meanwhile, Leon’s eyes had shut completely tight as a silent groan left his mouth. Fingers dug into the cushions below as you suddenly felt a hot gush of something within you. “Ohhh, baby, did you cum?” You wonder aloud and Leon wanted to die. “I-I can keep going! I p-promise-” He didn’t want to disappoint you, not like this and you shushed him with soft kisses. “Shhh, I know, my love. This pussy is just that good, huh?” You bite at his skin and heavy pants left Leon. “Mmmm, ‘s really good.” He managed to say, giving into the pleasure further now that he was sure that he hadn’t upset you.

Feeling a little merciful, you say,”Just let me know if it gets too much.” And you raise yourself once more, falling back down onto Leon as you feel his tip brushing the entrance of your womb. “Mmmm, such a good boy. Letting me use him like this~” You tease as you pick a rhythm that is both stimulating yet controlled. You knew that Leon was feeling oversensitive right now and if not careful you could actually hurt him and you could never do that to him. You were the one in control right now and that meant you had to be responsible. Make him feel valid even though he wants to be used like a toy.

He was very vocal with his pleasure, groans and moans leaving his throat as he tried his best to not grab at your hips. “[Y/N], please-””Aw, what is it baby? What do you need?” You ask in a sweet, saccharine voice. “Wanna t-touch you. Can I?” His fingers scratched at the fabric beneath him, itching to cause you even more pleasure. You hum in thought, hips gyrating instead of bouncing to tease Leon even more. “I dunno. Should I?” You ask with a lilt and Leon couldn’t refrain himself from letting out a frustrated moan. At that little display you tighten your walls and move in a way that makes both of you see stars.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease!” Leon said in a hurry, your ego receiving a nice fluff from the sight underneath you. “Oh, alright.” As soon as you gave the go ahead, one hand found its way to your clit while the other reached underneath your shirt and bra in one go. “Ahhh, so eager~” You say with a small smile, his fingers hungry in their assault to bring you close to your own climax. “W-want to you cum on m-my cock.” Leon looked at you with blown out eyes, the once blue hue being taken over by the void of his pupils. “Yeah? Make me, rookie.” You challenge and he was happy to accept.

Even though his touches were that of a novice, it was still Leons’; warm, loving, seeking - it was more than enough to bring you near your orgasm. Your bounces become sloppy and you give your own whine to which Leon couldn’t help but smirk at. “Gonna cum soon.” You warn and Leon starts to meet your thrusts with his. “Mmmm, Me too.” He says with a slur,”Gonna cum in you again. Make you a mommy.” He promises against your skin as those words seemed to be what brought you completely over the edge. You let out a delicious cry of Leon’s name and coupled with the intense clamping down on his cock, Leon couldn’t stop himself from coming a second time. His hands found their way to your hips, pushing you down flush against his pelvis so that he could aim directly into your womb.

“Such a pretty girl. MY pretty girl. Gonna be so full with my kids, fuck-” He started to babble to himself, holding you against his chest as he released inside of you. The feeling of hot cum spilling into you was far more pleasant than you thought it would be. You felt nice and marked, full with Leon and the possibility of having a little one with him. It made your heart swell. You give a small giggle and lean back, looking Leon in the eyes. “Now then, want to try to take the lead for this next one, rookie?”

#resident evil #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #subby!leon #sub leon kennedy

921 notes · View notes

midnightwriter21 · 1 year ago

Text

jjk hcs: their favorite types of kisses

characters: reader x gojo, reader x geto

warnings: language (i have the mouth of a sailor sry)

AN: i am a geto apologist til the day i die argue w ya mama

also if u want another part w diff character lmk!!

SATORU GOJO

giving: a kiss to the top of YOUR eyelids

we all know that he has the most beautiful & powerful eyes of all time

but it’s your eyes that knock the breath out of him

no matter the color he thinks they’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen

in his mind your eyes overpower his any day

i mean your eyes are the only thing to ever have the ability to bring the strongest sorcerer to his knees

and besides your eyes are the first to ever see him

the real him

not gojo satoru, the honored one

or gojo satoru, the six eyes

you just see, him, satoru

the satoru that hogs the blankets at night

the satoru that lets a few tears slip during romance movies but you better not bring it up bc “no i just got something in my eyes!!”

the satoru that adopted two children at 16 and had no idea what he was doing but did a damn good job at it

the satoru that loves you because you see the things that other people wouldn’t be bothered to see

receiving: a kiss to the underside of his jaw

this is a tall ass man

so it’s unlikely (but ofc always possible) that you’re tall enough to plant a kiss on his cheek without him bending down for you to reach

big tall man make me go brrrrr

he will bend down for u ofc

after teasing u to death

but he thinks it’s much cuter to see you stand on ur tip toes to give him a kiss

plus he’s hot, he knows he’s hot

i can hear his annoying ass rn, “cmon babe you gotta be careful kissing me there! this jawline is sharp enough to cut steel”

like yea.. it is.. but shut the fuck up an lemme kiss u some more

i love him

SUGURU GETO

giving: a kiss on your forehead

I LOVE HIM HE WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING TO HURT ANYONE EVER I KNOW BECAUSE HE TOLD ME SO

ahem… anyways

sweetheart of sweethearts!!

he’s a lil more reserved when it comes to PDA but not to the point where he’s not gonna show you affection

he’s just not the typa person to have a full on make out sesh with you in the hallway if ykwim

but he will plant a kiss in the middle of your forehead after he walks you to your next class

oh y’all just finished a mission and you’re going back to your dorm to take a nap?

1. bold of you to assume he’s not coming with you and kissing you on the forehead before y’all fall asleep together all cuddled up

2. if he’s not taking a nap with you, he’s tucking you into bed and leaving a kiss on your forehead before he leaves your room

id marry him cause he’s never done anything wrong in his entire life

receiving: a kiss to the top of his knuckles

HE WOULD RECEIVE KISSES EVERYWHERE IF IT WERE FROM ME

again… ahem.. anyways

jujitsu sorcery in the wise words of nanami kento “SUCKS”

it sucks

and he uses his hands to fight and kill allegedly on the daily

his hands have been covered in blood

his hands have brought death upon people no they haven’t

so for you to kiss them?

geto takes it as a declaration of undeniable, unfaltering loyalty and love

which it is obviously

it means a lot to him

and sometimes when his doubts get to him and he thinks he’s unworthy of someone like you…

press a kiss to the top of his knuckles and those thoughts and insecurities disappear

324 notes · View notes

black-cat-2 · 1 year ago

Text

Omg, omg, omg I have this very specific idea for a Bucky x reader fanfic stuck in my brain and I need someone to write that immediately!

Hear me out:

So, in the timeframe between ‘Bucky gets away from HYDRA’ and ‘Steve finds Bucky’ Bucky befriends Reader and later, after Wakanda or something, he comes back in contact with her. But: no one except him knows about their friendship because he finally has something of his own and he won’t let anyone destroy that for him. Anyway, wayyy later (FATWS timeline or something) a rough mission has him drag Sam to Reader’s place for like a night or something. And I’m talking about a confused Sam. “What are we doin’ here, man?” Sam. “This ain’t your place. Why you got a key?” Sam. While Bucky doesn’t even bother to answer, instead opening the door all like “Doll, I’m home”. And like, their vibes are gonna be so domestic and cute and with all the cuddles that it’s practically obvious that they’re more than friends. Bonus points if they cuddle during the sleepover and he grumpily mutters “Fuck, I missed that.” But since they didn’t put a label on what would usually be considered a friends with benefits situation, Reader just awkwardly looks at Bucky and says they’re friends when Sam asks what exactly they are. And once they’re alone (like without Sam around)… damnnnn I need a feral Bucky. “Lemme show you that you’re fucking mine and mine only, babydoll” Bucky.

Hhhhhhhhhhhh

God, I’m a sucker for friends to lovers and possessive Bucky, I’m so sorry…

Edit: I also love the aspect that Reader could be from just about anywhere in the world since Bucky was practically on a hiding marathon when they met. Plus, the Reader can be just about anyone, with any random job. No need for being a Shield Agent or something :)

Anyway, could anyone write that? 🥹💖

Edit 2.0: It’s been written! If anyone wants to write their own version of this, feel free to do so, I’d love to see y’all’s ideas to this. I’ll just add them here ☺️

My Person by @winterarmyy

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x bestfriend reader #bucky barnes x bestfriend!reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x bestfriend reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky smut #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x reader #request #can someone write this #please im begging #please i need this #please i need it

229 notes · View notes

sparklyballoonballoon · 6 months ago

Text

The Owl House Post-Finale/Post Watching and Dreaming Roleplay Request

Anyone up for an Owl House roleplay with me? I was hoping for a roleplay that takes place during the timeskip of the show, sometime after the finale.

I also want Palisman to play a big role in the roleplay as well. I love the concept of palismen so much that I was hoping if we RP that we can have it play a bigger role than it did in the canon series.

I also wanna do a thing with King going to Hexside and making friends, falling in love, and even making some enemies in the process. Maybe have him form his own Hexsquad.

Here are the ships I wanna do for this RP (some of the names of the characters of the canon background characters are based off of MoringMarks headcanons):

Luz x Amity

King x OC

Cat x Sibley (Pufferfish bipedal demon in the abominations track with the sloth Palisman)

Boscha x OC

Amelia x Lucas (the blond guy with the black beanie in the oracle track uniform who is a part of Boscha’s group in the episode Once Upon a Swap)

Eda x Raine

Jerbo x Edric

Viney x Emira

Skara x Fled (The brown bat biped demon who was in the beast keeping hexside uniform who went to grom with Skara)

Gus x Matt

Vee x Masha

Perhaps the two human students who talked to Luz and worked the haunted Hayride with Masha at Thanks to Them, along with Vee and Masha’s friends could also play a role as well.

Anyways, anyone wanna roleplay with me? OCs are allowed BTW. Anyways, lemme know in the comments below if you wanna roleplay with me

65 notes · View notes

muneca-lemon-steppa · 1 year ago

Text

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 4

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader, 3.1k words

Warnings: talking about home fire, cursing, talking about trauma

A/N: Hi everyone! This chapter is a little different. It's more about developing our characters, understanding what exactly is going on, and setting it up for later events. I'm sorry if this isn't particularly exciting, but I feel like this was necessary for the storyline I'm going down? I don't know, if you guys have thoughts lemme know! As always, I love hanging out with you all on here. It is so much fun, and it's just a reprieve and joy. And if you're finding this for the first time hello!! If you want to catch the first parts just click the tags that say Interviews for New Beginnings, and itll all be there! I promise I'm going to make a masterlist! I just don't know how to hyperlink and it's stressing me out. Anyway I'm sorry I talk so much! Love you guys! - Mo

The tailor shop was not always your family’s tailor shop. When your mother and father first immigrated to Camden, it was the one shop that agreed to hire them. Mr. Kahn was the originator, an older gentleman with large round glasses, the most illustrious beard you’ve ever seen, and the most soothing voice. When he saw the the pitiful young couple that would one day be your parents, he not only opened the doors of his shop, but his arms and his heart and his home.

Your father had been a tailor by trade in his home country, and quickly picked up the new skills and tricks that Mr. Kahn had so generously gifted. Mr. Kahn had no children himself, and his whole family had to stay in his own country as well. Like two lonely ships at sea your parents and Mr. Kahn found each other, and built a a new family. He was there for the birth of you and Eli and your brother, and there for the arrival of your grandparents. And when he passed away, he gave the shop and the home above the shop to your family, his other family. In honor of Mr. Kahn, your father and uncle kept the name Kahn’s and Sons. Though people knew you weren’t the technical Kahn Sons, everyone gave their regards to the beautiful picture of Mr. Kahn that hung in the front. His bright and shining smile and twinkling eyes kept watch over the shop, your family, and anyone who crossed the threshold. Anyone who looked at the painting smiled, remembering his gentle voice and his grand laughter.

That painting is the only thing that survives the flames.

As the sky turns a pale white, all that can be heard above the shocked voice and the rises smoke are the screams and wails of your mother, screaming and asking God why why why? Your aunt and grandmother holding her and weeping as well, praying and begging for an answer. You sister Esther on your hip keeps whispering, “What happened? What happened to our store sissy?”

And you have no answer. You have nothing in your chest but a numb buzzing, and acid in your throat. You feel hot hot tears making canyons in the ash that covers your face. You see Eli, your father, uncle, brother, grandfather, and other neighbors trying to move out any molten machines from the wreckage. When you make eye contact with Eli, he just shakes his head, tears having wiped the majority of the ash away. He looks at you as if yo say, “I don’t even know why we keep looking.”

Esther begins to cry, the smoke bothering her eyes, and you just begin to rock her and walk down the street to take her away from the wreckage. No child should have to see something so horrible as this.

People begin to stop and ask what happened. Who did this? Why Kahn’s? Why your father’s shop? You just walked past them. How would you know? How could anyone know? All you knew is that your sister was crying and coughing too hard. You just needed to get away. You just needed to get away. Just away.

On the other side of Camden, Alfie Solomons walks in to the office, after a long night of praying and bargaining for his secretary to be at her desk when he came in.

Despite his pleas, he is not surprised to see that her desk has been untouched, the stove has not been lit, and the air is too cold to breathe in. He rubs his face roughly, more for punishment than for comfort, and caresses the calendar on the abandoned desk, before tenderly picking it up and taking it to his own desk. Alfie found himself soon flipping through those wrinkled and pressed pages. Noticing the arrows and tiny scribbles on your near penmanship. As he further explores he finds himself chuckling lowly at the small characters of Tommy, Ollie, and even him and Cyril. He notes the repetition of his own name, with a small delicate heart over the i. He nearly completely smudges away the small heart with his tracings when Ollie knocks him back to Camden, “Uhm Alfie…”

“What?”

And that’s when he noticed it… the silence. There were people in the bakery, same amount as usual all doing what the need to do. But he heard… nothing. It was silent. All he could hear were the scuffing thuds of work boots against worn down floor boards, and the moaning creaks of barrels being turned over. Alfie got up from his desk, brushed passed Ollie to look at his men. But they weren’t his men. These were phantoms wearing the clothes of his men. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”

Ollie tenderly stepped behind Alfie, “Alfie… there was a fire last night…”

The blood in his heart immediately froze. His lungs shrank in his chest, and the air was suddenly sucked out of the room. “Where?” Alfie asked, though he already knew.

“Kahn’s… Alfie it’s scorched.”

Alfie couldn’t even finish listening. He had to go. He had to go. Damn the secrecy. Damn what your family knew or didn’t know. Damn what the men would think, seeing him run to see if his w… secretary was hurt. That didn’t matter. The Mad Baker be damned. “Ollie. Get the car. Grab two men from downstairs. We’re going to Kahn’s now. NOW!”

Though the drive to your home from the office was merely 20 minutes, a drive he knew well, it felt as though it took years off his life. The closer the car got, the denser the crowds of people were. The more clearly he could see the dissipating smoke and ash.

When Alfie was a young child, he struggled with fear. Thunder sent him under the covers, loud fights sent him behind his mothers skirts. The dark petrified him, necessitating two candles to defend him from nightmares. This fear followed him through childhood until he was 10, when he was assigned to give a small speech in front of his class. Poor young Alfie Solomons, so terrified of the 20 pairs of eyes that stared at him, that he threw up. He fled in tears away from the gasps and laughter, and back into the arms of his mother. There he wept profusely, embarrassed but mostly angry about how cowardly he thought of himself. His mother, hushing and consoling him, was broken-hearted at her son’s agony. Her only child. Her pride and joy. “Ahhh varóbushik. You know… it is not bad to be afraid… fear is not a sin my love.”

His eyes, ocean like in his tears looked up at his mother, “But I need to be brave. Like papa was.”

She smiled softly, “Mm yes papa was very brave. But you know… bravery isn’t the absence of fear… no it’s… it’s surviving even when you are afraid. It’s doing what you are afraid of even when you are scared. That is brave. You are brave every day my sweet Alfie.”

Alfie curled closer to his mother’s side, rocking and swaying with her as she continued to stroke his unruly hair, “Alfie, I have a trick for when I’m scared. I used it when I was leaving my home country.”

Alfie looked up, hopeful for a spell or a tool to keep him from fear, “What is it mama?”

“I let myself be afraid for 10 seconds. I count backwards from ten, and let my body feel the fear. And with every breath, and every number, and release that fear. By the time I get to 1, I am no longer afraid. I push through it. If you can manage to push through to 1 every time… I think you will find that you can do anything my darling boy.”

Alfie nodded, and resolved to always make it to 1. Even as a Captain in the war, right before the charge, as he saw the enemy approaching, he started the count. He always made it to 1, and always won.

But the counting wasn’t working now. In the car to Kahn’s and Sons Alfie couldn’t make it past 5 before his mind fled to you, wondering why hadn’t seen you in the crowd yet. Why he hadn’t heard your voice above the engine of the car yet. Why he hadn’t heard you call for him yet.

The sick in his stomach almost made its way out of his mouth when he saw what was left of Kahn’s and Sons. The emerald green wood of the front had been destroyed, leaving a festering and open wound. The windows of the above apartment had been blown out, and he could see and smell charred wall paper and clothing. Anything that could be salvaged was already, piled up in a pathetic little hill to the side. The fire department had long left, the police wouldn’t be there for another day, and the neighbors could only hold who Alfie assumed to be your family, as they wept.

“Mr. Solomons?”

Alfie turned swiftly, as if he was afraid to miss your phantom’s last moments on Earth. But you were there, solid. As solid as the ask caked to your face. He willed his arms to stay at his side, so as not to crush you in his arms, or embarrass you. Your eyes begged him to say something, to say anything. To make sense of this. The fire. His presence. Your position. But what was he to say? What role is he to play in this? Esther looked at Alfie curiously her reddened cheeks pursued together, “Are you sissy’s boss?”

A million words could’ve been dictated from the stare you gave him. They can’t know… not now. Not like this. Alfie just smiled softly at Esther, “No little bird, I’m just a neighbor. Your sister’s boss is has an office near mine. But I hear she is a very smart sister. Is that right?”

Esther giggled and nodded, proceeding to babble at Alfie, competing with him in amount of words that could fall out of the human mouth. You couldn’t help but stare at this scene. The smoke and horror seemed to wash away, and all you could see is Alfie and Esther. Esther finally smiling after a night of pain. Alfie chuckling and playing with a small child, speaking with Esther as an equal. Teaching her a clapping game and asking her questions about her favorite dolls. It felt too natural. Too sweet and real and too tangible. It felt as if it was a window to a life you could have and wanted so badly but will never have. It was too much. Your strangled inhale brings Alfie’s eyes to yours, but before he can say anything of comfort your fathers voice booms over, “Mr. Solomons! My daughters are of no concern of yours! What could you possibly take from us at this time? Have you no compassion? No human decency!”

Your father pushed between you and Alfie, a formidable blockade. Alfie mad no move, essentially chest to chest with your father, staring right into his eyes. “Shalom sir. Was checking if the rumors were true. It’s a shame.”

“It is a shame, now please leave. There is nothing more you could take from us. This city is over run with your like, killing and blowing each other up, and what about us hmm?? We take the shrapnel. We either pay your protection fees and starve with a slightly better chance at surviving the blowbacks? Or we save our money to feed our children, and still suffer the consequences of your war? Now Mr. Solomons what more can you take from us?”

It was no longer a question where you got your mouth from. Your father was old, but in his eyes you saw the anger and fire of his youth, of a man out through war. Alfie typically wouldn’t allow this, by anyone. But frankly, what little memories Alfie had of his own father, he saw in yours. And he couldn’t help but feel as though this fire was his fault. Maybe if he hadn’t fought with you yesterday, this fire wouldn’t have happened.

Alfie swallowed down any regret of the night before. The time was not for regret. The time was for solutions. And if Alfie wanted to be a part of the solution, he needed to speak to your father. As businessmen, “Mr. Abraham. I am sorry for your loss. Despite your reservations, you still live in Camden. And as a resident of Camden right? You live under Solomons protection. Now this right here? This is wrong. And I’m going to personally right, see to it that it is resolved.”

Your father began to bristle at this, “The police will do an investigation. We don’t need a gangster mucking about.”

Alfie chuckled, “You know the police won’t do a fucking thing about this. They don’t care about these sort of things they’re in everyone’s purse. Fuck, some of them are in mine.”

“I will not be indebted to another tyrant.”

Your free hand flew to your fathers shoulder, “Papa please… if you won’t allow a mitzvah… please just… just speak business with Mr. Solomons.”

Your father turned to you, “This is none of your concern! Please go to your mother immediately!”

But you stood your ground, “Mr. Solomons is offering you a solution papa! You are impeding a solution and the possibility help and a necessary alliance! And for what?! Pride?! Look at this! We have nothing! The shop is destroyed and we out home is burnt! What other solution could you possibly have?”

Your father just stared at you, mouth open, the emotions of the day washing over him. It was true. There was no other choice. And you were too old for him to be able to shield you from that reality. You clutched a shocked Esther closer to your side, “Papa… just… listen to what Mr. Solomons has to say… He is a business man. He can be reasonable, that’s what people say.”

Your father looked at you, and in that moment he saw you as you fully were. No longer that small child that sat with him until the late hours listening to him read. Not the little girl who cried about hurt birds who didn’t have a papa to take care of them. But a full woman. A whole woman with a firm mind and kind heart and strong temper. In an instant he felt the joy of watching his child, the mourning of losing his little girl, and the wonder of who you became seemingly overnight. He nodded, and turned back to Alfie, who was hiding his smile underneath an unkempt beard. Your father straightened and said, “Well Mr. Solomons. What are your proposed terms for such a partnership?”

Your father proved to be a shrewd businessman, nitpicking with Alfie over every detail in this partnership, which according to the terms would be reviewed every 6 months, with an option of either side to cancel the business relationship at those meetings. But Alfie knew he was never going to be the one to cancel it, as long as it kept him tied to you. You were the assigned scribe to the terms, which you fell easily into like walking. Mr. Solomons would provide housing to you and your family for the time it took to repair your family's home. The home was a block away from his office and home, providing easier access and protection for your family while an investigation was to take place. The investigation, Alfie insisted, would be conducted by his own men, and any policemen in his purse. Alfie insisted to your father that this was more for his own benefit than your father's, as it would solidify his position as the protector and the owner of Camden town. Your father acquiesed to Alfie's demand that the perpetrator would be dealt with in his own way, not involving the actual legal system.

Kahn's and Sons would be repaired and restocked through the use of Solomons men and contacts, which would be completed within in the next two months. Upon the finished construction, two men would be on guard of the shop during the day and night, reduced to one man upon the capture of the man who committed the act. Payment for the housing, rebuilding, and protection would be based on the services of Mr. Abraham and his family. Information obtained during client conversations, as well as tailoring and laundry services necessitated by the entirety of the Solomons Company. Services would be traded according to the going rate of Kahn and Sons prices. And upon the equitable exchange, Solomons laundry and tailoring services would then be discounted at a 45% rate. At the end of the negotiation, both men shook hands, both fighting to keep pleased looks off their faces and keep the air of solemnity and certainty and expectance.

As soon as their hands released, they nodded and gave Shalom, with your father giving directions to his own family, and Alfie barking orders to Ollie and his men. You stayed firmly planted next to Alfie, Esther being taken by your father. You looked at him quizically saying to him, "That is the most generous offer you have ever given in your life."

Alfie gruffed, "You hardly have standing to say that seeing as you only been working with me for 7 months."

"Am I still employed?"

"You better. Or else the entire office is going to shit. Ollie is moping. I can't read your handwriting. And you messed everything up in my office I can't find anything."

You smirked, "I told you, you need new glasses and your office was a pig pen. You should be thanking me profusely."

Alfie just grumbled. He would never admit that the way you spoke to him now made him feel better than he had in the past 12 hours. You allowed your fingers to brush his and the rings stacked on them, "Thank you Alfie.", you let out in a whisper, not looking at him.

He took a quick breath in at the contact, immediately craving more. But he bristled out instead, "For what?"

Your eyes remained planted at the dirt on your shoes, "For coming. For... checking in."

Alfie gently brushed his finger tips against the top of your hands, hanging by your sides, the closest he could get to holding your hands, "I had to. Now get over there, your mother keeps looking over Eli's shoulder. I'll meet you all where you'll be staying."

You nodded, cheeks and hands hot, "Yes Alfie. Shalom."

"Shalom Darling."

Tag List: @jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia @autumnleaves1991-blog @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @character---obsessed @solomons-finest-rum

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinders #alfie solomons fanfic #Interviews for New Beginnings

198 notes · View notes