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emisprocrastinatingbywriting · 2 days ago

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To Break Free

Chapter Two Summary:

Joel Miller has been called many things in his life, but a party planner has never been one of them. However, with how things had been left between the two of you after your disastrous date night, the pressure is on. Meanwhile, across the street, the forces of life seem to be working against you, as a letter in the mail and a broken AC nearly convince you to call the whole thing off. Nevertheless, the show must go on and with sweat running down your back, you venture over to the house across the street in hopes that some socialization might distract you from the past.

Warnings: NoOutbreak!Joel Miller/Reader, Sarah and Ellie as siblings, Neighbour!Joel, The Miller Girls as Wingmen for Both Reader and Joel, Tommy Is a Little Shit, Angst and Tooth Rotting Fluff, Both Reader and Joel Want Each Other So Bad, Pining, Soft!Joel, Mentions of Past Relationship/Abuse (read with caution), Mentions of Imbalance of Power in Past Relationships (read with caution x 2).

A/N:

Hey y'all, welcome back! This chapter is a bit long but like my username suggests, it's the first week back after the break and I'm running from my responsibilities rn lol.

This chapter starts off from Joel's perspective and shows where he's at after everything that went down in chapter one. We also learn more about reader's past, particularly the ex that she is trying super hard not to think about. It does give some perspective as to why she is hesitant to start anything with Joel but also, we can see her struggling with that because they are both down bad. A bit of a warning for some of the memories reader goes through pertaining to her ex. No physical violence, but he definitly took advantage of her as her professor and was emotionally abusive. If that is something you are uncomfortable with, please take care of yourself and do not read. You could always message me for a sparknotes version of the chapter if you don't want to miss out.

Either way, don't worry, there is loads of angsty fluff and pining as well. These two want to fuck each other so bad in this chapter that it hurts lol. Enjoy! <3

Chapter 2/10

Chapter 2: The Barbecue

The chips were set out, the drinks buried in tubs of ice, plates of meat and veggies waiting in the fridge for their turn on the grill, yet he couldn’t stop pacing. The moment that the sunrise had peeked through his blinds that morning, Joel Miller had been up and running. He knew he was being ridiculous. Despite his hectic schedule and two teens, the Miller home was usually kept rather tidy. However, the second his feet had touched down on the main floor, all his anxious eyes could see was filth. When was the last time Joel had scrubbed the walls or vacuumed in between the couch cushions? He couldn’t remember, which led to him starting off his day with a needless scrub down of every nook and cranny that any reasonable person would neglect.

Joel was being a bit much, he felt it in the glares that his daughters had both sent him at different points that morning due to his deranged scouring, but the usual embarrassment that came from their teasing was dwarfed by his nerves. Even when every surface in the house was practically sparkling from his efforts, he still couldn’t stop. Instead, Joel buried himself in the food preparations, further annoying his girls as he quizzed them on any food intolerances that any of his guests may have. By the time his worries about the food were soothed, after being reminded multiple times that they had already helped him write the list that he had brought with him to the grocery store, he was close to collapsing.

Something was brewing inside of Joel, something that made all of the air rush out of his lungs, that brightened the tips of his ears when his daughters teased him about it, that made him want to throw up when he thought about the last time he saw you. He had been stupid, so incredibly stupid that he had nearly had a panic attack when you left him on the porch that night. A migraine had gathered at the base of his skull after you bid him goodbye, forcing him to stumble home and collapse into bed with a frustrated huff. It was as if his brain was rejecting itself for bringing you any pain, betraying him for not being more careful with his words.

In his defense, Joel had been barely conscious at the restaurant that night, nodding along to a trust fund baby nearly half his age prattling on about the luxury homes he wanted the company to pump out for him. As much as Joel tried to stay present for the sake of the cash he was getting waved under his nose, he was out of his element. It was Tommy who usually handled all of the schmoozing, giving the clients that million dollar customer service smile that the eldest Miller lacked. However, after a mix up with the scheduling that had left the more sociable brother severely overbooked, Joel had been forced to step up.

“The thing is John, it’s John right? Anyways, I don’t want this to be a place for nobodies. This neighbourhood is going to be nice, a place where young families can go to be away from the rest of this dumpy town,” the client explained.

Joel had smiled politely, though he couldn’t help but imagine strangling the smug prick with his skinny necktie. He had seen tons of developers like him over the years, flashy assholes who wanted nothing more than to build a ridiculously expensive neighbourhood that made everyone else’s rents go up. He hated the homes that his wealthier client base always wanted. They were all the same, luxury homes that were devoid of any life or warmth. Just once, Joel wanted to go back to the basics, to work on a place with a little bit of character or at least be allowed to paint the outside of the building something other than grey. But with this guy, he knew there wasn’t any chance.

“I want the neighbourhood to look clean, ya know? And it can’t be trashy if all of the places look alike. Plus, with a fair price on the mortgages given how nice you’ll make it, we can make sure that the riff raff stays out,” the developer continued, his pointed words grating on Joel to no end.

“Yeah, I think I get what you’re saying,” Joel sighed, swirling the little bit of whiskey left in the bottom of his glass.

Joel suddenly wished he had taken a cab, maybe then he could have slammed enough drinks to make the meeting interesting enough to withstand. The client kept chattering, the sound of his nasally voice slowly blending into the upbeat hits that were making his ears ring. He thought about calling the whole thing off, wondering if he could ask for forgiveness from his brother later if he made up a good enough excuse. However, just as he was about to excuse himself with a fake family emergency, his eyes landed upon you. Or rather, they landed upon you with him.

Jealousy had seeped into Joel’s chest as he watched the way your date’s hand had pushed against your space between your shoulders, leading you to the table with a wolfish grin plastered across his face. All of Joel’s coronary arteries constricted at that, the sight of you being pushed into the table by another man making him burn bright with rage. And yet, he couldn’t look away. The heels that made your legs look a mile long, the makeup that accentuated all of the features that had haunted him since your first day in town, the messy updo that showed off the gentle slope of your neck, were all so infuriatingly perfect. Infuriating especially because Joel knew that it wasn’t for him.

Joel was jealous. He was jealous and he knew that it was stupid to feel that way. Afterall, he had only met you once. Christ, but what a meeting it had been, he thought to himself as he tried not to remember your damp body on display for him. However, no matter how hard he tried to remind himself that you were basically a stranger, that his stupid crush didn’t mean anything to you and shouldn’t, the green monster had been released. It clawed at the inside of his ribcage, tearing his heart to shreds the longer he stared at you all dolled up for another man. He had no claim over you and yet, the envy he felt towards your date had dug its talons into his soul and refused to let go.

Nevertheless, the more time went on, the more antsy Joel became. Something was off, he saw it in the way you squirmed uncomfortably in your chair, or how you began to shrink even further into your seat each time your date rushed off to the bathroom. It was only after the dickhead had shuffled back over for a third time that Joel truly understood what was going on and with you suddenly on the verge of tears, flashing the man across from you a forced grin, he was enraged.

“Anyways John, I’m sure your company will do fine. I’ve talked to your brother a bit. He seems more uh… my speed. I’ll get my secretary to send over the paperwork to him and then we can get started, okay?,” the younger man had asked him, stretching his hand out for him to take.

“Yep, sounds good man,” Joel answered, quickly shaking the hand outstretched to him.

The client had said his goodbyes after that, likely not wanting to sit and socialize with the gruff contractor that had begun to actively ignore him. Quite frankly, Joel didn’t care what the guy thought of him. His work spoke for itself. Plus, he would make his apologies later if need be but at that moment, he had bigger fish to fry.

Although the jealousy that Joel had felt was still there, flaring up every time his eyes raked over your beautifully done up figure, the edges of it had softened as the minutes ticked by. That man, whoever he was, was a certified asshole. Aside from the frequent trips to the bathroom, with each return making your date’s vice of choice more obvious than before, Joel couldn’t help but notice how silent you had become. Distress practically rolled off of your tense shoulders, reaching out to him from across the room and thickening the lining of his throat until he felt like he might burst out into tears himself if something wasn’t done.

Joel had willed himself to yell out, to beg you to speak up from his seat at the bar. He wanted to see you rip your date a new one and walk out with your pretty head held high, but none of that came to pass. Instead, his heart had gotten heavier and heavier as you got smaller and smaller, until he at last couldn’t take it anymore.

Before your date had even fully left the table for his final bathroom trip of the night, Joel was already halfway out of his seat. He slammed down a wad of bills for his drink before he left, not even looking at the ridiculous amount he had left the bartender as he hurried towards the other end of the room. His sole focus was the beautiful woman whose eyes were glossed over as she bounced off of the service staff with the grace of a newborn deer, trying and failing to keep it together as the rich pricks around her failed to hide their amusement.

“Oh honey,” Joel groaned under his breath as he spied your purse still slung over your chair, quickly switching paths so that you wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of returning for it after your frazzled escape.

Everything that had come afterwards had happened so fast that it was practically a blur to him now. Although, your teary eyed face was burned into Joel’s memory, still beautiful yet so raw as you tried to keep from balling in front of him when he finally caught up to you outside. And then came the punch he had launched at your date, an act of violence that was so out of character for a man his age, a man that had given up bar fights the second his first child had slid into the world, that he didn’t even know what to think. That ride home had been tense, with him trying not to freak out over the snap decision while he drove you home, terrified that it might get back to his kids somehow as you sniffled and sighed beside him.

It was at a red light that Joel had finally made up his mind about the incident. As he watched you try to wipe the smeared eyeliner off of your face, eyes red as a fresh wave of tears ruined your progress, he decided that he didn’t regret the punch one bit. How dare that asshole make you, or any woman for that matter, feel so horrible. The woman he had met a month prior had been tired, a bit sad even, but not diminished. There had been a flicker of light in your eyes, one that Joel hoped to stroke into a roaring flame someday if you gave him a chance, but in that moment it had all but vanished. And the longer he had sat in his truck that night, listening to you trying to breathe through your distress, the more he wanted to rain hellfire down on anyone who ever made the mistake of hurting you.

“Fuck’s sake,” Joel hissed, coming back to the present as hot water suddenly scalded his hands.

Dropping the glass he was scrubbing back into the soapy water, Joel placed both of his hands on the edges of the sink and sighed. He had tried not to let himself think about it since that night, about how hard he wanted to punch any man who made you frown like that. And that moment, with the way things had ended on Thursday, he was at the top of his own list.

Joel needed to make things right with you, he needed it like the air he breathed. For a month he had run to the front windows every time he heard the tell tale signs of your clunky Honda making its way back home, hoping to catch a glimpse of the goddess next door. And now, with the events of your date night still fresh in his mind, along with his piss-poor excuse for an apology the previous morning, he was close to driving to the coast and walking straight into the ocean. Joel sighed, growing more disgruntled by the second. He needed to make things right with you, lest he be doomed to pining for you from afar and getting teased by his family members until you inevitably met a more handsome man that he would be unreasonably jealous of.

“Look, I really appreciate what you did for me today. I know that this was not how you probably wanted to spend your Thursday, but you don’t have to stay. I’m fine, everything is great. You can go back to the people you’ve got and I’ll go back to… Uh, this,” you had laughed bitterly, gesturing towards the empty house, “I mean, this is all I’ve got, right?”

Joel Miller was not the best at expressing himself, that much was glaringly obvious. But your words, the way you had thanked him for something he had done on his volition while simultaneously disparaging yourself, had taken him completely off guard. It was preposterous, the thought of someone like you having nothing in your life other than the fixer upper you went home to at the end of the day.

If only you knew how much the girls adored you, practically gushing about the interesting woman that they cornered at every turn and forced into movie nights. Or, how Joel greedily sucked up any tidbit of information about you they sprinkled into their stories, cataloging everything he learned in case he may one day get the chance to use it. Whether you knew it or not, you had the Miller clan under lock and key, especially their patriarch. Though, given the fact that he had gone AWOL since your first day in Austin, he understood why you wouldn’t think to include him on your list of friends.

The last month of work had been tough. With the school year coming to a close and summer biting at his ankles, the company was set for a busy season of jobs and Joel had been running around like a chicken with his head cut off to keep up with the preparations. Each morning, he was gone at an ungodly hour, barely managing to wait for the coffee to brew most days. Still, that didn’t mean that Joel wasn’t looking for you in all that time, that he didn’t long to be in your presence again. The few glimpses he caught of you after work made his day and he found himself dreaming about the sundresses you wore or the way the light made your hair shine. Even his girls, as quick as they were to tease him about everything under the sun, had shifted their tact from razzing him to outright begging him to do something about his obvious attraction. In their words, he was getting downright pathetic.

“What’s got your head in the clouds?,” Tommy teased, his brother’s loud voice rudely snapping him from the thoughts that were unsurprisingly centered around you.

“New lady just moved in across the street, he’s in loooove,” Ellie singsonged, words muffled around a mouth full of the cookie dough that she had snagged from the freezer.

“Say it, don’t spray it kiddo,” Joel grunted, shaking his head at his daughter as she opened her mouth in defiance, showcasing all of her unchewed food before she flipped him off.

“S’that right? Well I’ll be, you didn’t tell me you were seeing anybody,” his brother laughed.

Joel sighed, suddenly wondering if it had been a good idea to invite you over. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you in his home, filling it with laughter and warmth as you left traces of your delicious perfume on hopefully every surface. Having you over was probably his greatest desire, second only to the far off fantasy of his crappy attempts at being funny being the reason you were laughing so hard, but he couldn’t help his own nerves. What if you didn’t have fun? What if Tommy said something embarrassing? What if you thought his home was a dumpster fire? What if too many people came? What if his girls told you about the stupid crush that he so obviously harbored? And worst of all, what if you never showed?

That last one was what Joel feared the most. He hadn’t meant to imply that you didn’t have anybody and yet, that was how it came out. The breakfast and the note he had left was a cheap apology, but he couldn’t think of what else to do. He was so sure that you would leave his gift on the porch to rot, perhaps even text him a long winded message that amounted to a succinct fuck you, but instead he had been surprised by a short thank you message, followed by a question about what time the event started. Joel had answered the text with shaky hands, buzzing with excitement and terror as he tried to answer as casually as he could. With all the information you could ever need, even with his many nerve induced spelling errors, there was no reason for you not to come. However, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to worry about it.

“Leave him be guys, he looks like he’s going to barf,” Sarah chastised as she strolled into the kitchen, drawing a few laughs from the rest of his family.

“Christ almighty, m’not gonna barf. Worry about yourselves,” Joel groaned, praying for any higher power to smite him before his nausea proved her wrong.

Nobody answered him, preferring instead to give each other amused looks as Joel returned to scrubbing the dishwasher spots from all of his best glasses. With how many red solo cups he had on hand in case any of the adults preferred a mixed drink instead of the sodas, beers, and coolers he had on deck, the quick scrub down was pointless but his brain couldn’t stop playing the what if game. Like what if all of the plastic cups got used up by the time you arrived and you were forced to drink out of one of his? The last thing Joel wanted was for you to see all the little white specks. That was careless. It was less than you deserved. And he couldn’t allow that.

“Dad, you need to chill out. The place looks great, we’ve got way too much food and drinks, and there will be plenty of people here to talk you up. Everything is going to be fine, I promise. She’s gonna have a great time,” Sarah said, nudging him away from the sink so she could finish up.

“I’m not, that’s not -,” Joel cleared his throat, “That’s not what this is. I just want everyone to feel at home. Is that such a crime? Everyone deserves to have a good time. I-I need to make things right with uh - with everyone. Why is that so hard for you guys to understand?”

Joel winced at his own transparency. He was usually better at hiding his love life from his family, if the flings he had over the years even counted as such. But you were different. He didn’t want you to be like the rest, he wanted you all to himself. Alas, he probably wasn’t even on your radar yet, which meant that claiming that you were a part of his love life was false.

“Right, well if you’re trying to impress everyone, then you should probably put in a little bit more effort than that, old man. Can’t be letting everyone think that you dress like a friggin’ slob,” Ellie suggested, her eyes raking up and down his figure in disapproval.

Joel balked, looking down at his outfit. He hadn’t even thought about what he was going to wear, too busy tearing through his house like a madman for any spec of dirt he could find. It wasn’t like dressing up was really his thing anyways. Most of his days were spent in beaten up work clothes or the sweatpants he threw on at the end of the day but he wanted to do better, even though he couldn’t remember the last time he had spruced himself up for a lady, much less one that had infiltrated his brain like you had.

“Hmmm yeah, and everyone would also probably appreciate it if you showered first. You’re a bit too rank right now to be pulling any moves on everyone, unless of course your goal is to make them gag,” Sarah chuckled as she placed the last glass back into the cupboard.

As much as Joel wanted to argue, they had a point. With sweat darkening nearly every inch of his shirt, his curls in disarray, and his body odor souring even the inside of his own nostrils, he was truly disgusting. His eyes snapped towards the clock, lips forming a grim line as he saw the time. One hour. He had one hour before people, perhaps even you, started pouring into his home. How in the hell was he supposed to shower, find something decent to wear, figure out what to do with his hair, and have one last meltdown, all before you arrived?

“There’s an outfit laid out on your bed, compliments of your two loving daughters who got woken up by your loud-ass cleaning spree this morning. Don’t change a thing about it, just put it on when you’re out of the shower and then fix your hair. Go,” Sarah commanded him.

“What? C’mon, I can dress myself!,” he halfheartedly protested, earning him a look from everyone in the room.

“Yeah, yeah, you can thank us after you ask her out,” Ellie chuckled, slapping him on the back as she swerved past to pilfer through the freezer once more.

Joel sighed, trying not to let his utter embarrassment overwhelm him as he started towards the stairs.

“Fine, just don’t be getting into the appetizers while I’m gone,” Joel announced, turning back to give them all a look before he started to climb the steps.

The half assed grunts of acknowledgement that Joel got in response were not encouraging, but he was too flustered to care. He took the stairs two at a time, needing to get as much distance between him and his family before he threw himself off the roof. By the time he got back to his room, he was so turned around that he could barely figure out how to get the shower going and almost ripped the faucet off the wall in his haste. Even still, the only thing that kept him sane in that moment, despite all of his panic induced spiraling, was you.

Joel didn’t know you. He didn’t know your favourite ice cream, or if you had broken any bones as a kid, or even why you had decided to work in a library of all places, but he wanted to. God, he wanted to know you so badly that it was driving him crazy. The way your energy bounced off of his in the few moments he had with you so far, reviving the small pieces of him that had been chipped away from years of focusing on his work, on raising his daughters, on keeping the past at bay for his family’s sake, made him feel like he was finally coming back to himself.

Every piece reborn made him want to try a little more, until Joel was foolishly ready to lose all of his senses and beg you to let him be your one and only. It was much too soon for anything like that, but being in your presence was like touching a livewire, like reading a book by a warm fire, like freefalling through the sky, like falling into bed at the end of a long day. It was as terrifying and exciting, as it was calming and gentle, and Joel wanted more. Scratch that, he needed more.

So, as Joel hurried under the lukewarm spray, scrubbing any trace of his hectic morning off of his body, he tried hard to not to think about all of the things that could go wrong. You would come, you would have fun, and Joel would be as charming as someone like him possibly could. Then maybe, just maybe, you might forget about his previous blunders and give him a second chance. Who knows, he thought to himself, sighing as he tried to remember the last time he had been so obsessed, a man could hope.

- You -

The fan was a stupid idea, especially with how downright disgusting your house had become as the hours ticked by, but what else could you possibly do? Your air conditioner, the beautiful beast that had served you for almost eleven years, had finally petered out and died at some point the previous night. Already curled up in bed, you hadn’t noticed until early that morning, when you woke up cranky and covered in sweat, the Texas heat oozing through all of your big and beautiful windows. Despite all of the tutorials online, the damn thing refused to work, leaving you with no other choice than to cook inside all day.

The morning had been tough, especially when a letter from someone you hoped to never hear from again came in the mail. Sighing as you felt how light it was, you abandoned it on the counter, not wanting to ruin the day before it had even begun. Nothing with him had ever been easy and you sighed, kicking yourself for believing that he would actually sign the divorce papers you had sent in the mail. Nevertheless, you decided to ignore how the unopened letter made you feel, choosing instead to focus on the day ahead.

With thoughts of Joel and his utterly confusing yet exciting presence running through your mind, you refused to let him rain on your parade. Across the street there was a handsome man who had first rescued you from back breaking labor during your move, and then later one of the worst dates you had ever been on. A man who, much to your dismay as a newly single woman for the first time in ten years, intrigued you to no end. You spent the entire day basically vibrating from excitement, counting the seconds until you could start getting ready.

A half hour before the barbecue was set to start, you jumped into the shower, hoping that a toe curling icy shower would help you race through your makeup routine without acquiring too much sweat. And yet, after five minutes of shaking from the cold, your limbs had slowly but surely thawed out. No matter how speedy your usual makeup routine was, there was no escaping the heat that caused it to melt off of your face.

Spraying yet another heavy layer of setting spray, you sighed. You had done your best given the circumstances. Despite the sweat that clung to your hairline, along with the annoying last minute outfit change after your first dress had become drenched in sweat, you looked okay. Not as great as you had originally hoped, but not awful. That had to count for something you supposed.

“Goddammit,” you sighed, already regretting your decision to accept Joel’s invitation.

As you stood in front of the mirror, fixing the straps on the pink sundress that showcased an appropriate amount of cleavage and hugged your curves just right, you couldn’t help but feel a bit silly. It was a barbecue, a family friendly event that Joel had invited you to, just as any friendly neighbour would. And yet, there you were, dolled up and sweating. At least if he had invited you out of some sort of neighbourly obligation, he probably wouldn’t notice how disheveled you were.

It was that thought that got you through the door and across the street. Joel Miller was trying to be a friend, and surely a friend wouldn’t care about another friend’s sweaty face on a day as hot as this one. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself as you knocked on the door, ignoring the way your heart pounded alongside the music you could hear coming from the backyard. It sounded packed inside, much busier than any typical barbecue, and you suddenly longed for the comfort of your own home again. When nobody came, you stood there in silence for a few more seconds, biting your lip as you debated retreating back to safety. However, all of your escape plans were foiled when a curly haired teen yanked the door open.

“Hey - oh shit,” Sarah cussed, concern trickling into her tone.

“What? What is it?,” you asked quickly, stomach twisting as her eyes examined every inch of your face.

Heart pounding, you ripped open your purse, pulling out a compact so that you could have a look at the damage. It was only then that you saw the travesty that the heat had created. The once nearly acceptable look was literally melting off of your face from the heat, creating a mess that even the kindest of strangers would be hard pressed to ignore. You looked like a clown that had gotten jumped, and given the sounds of the lively party going on behind the teen, you suddenly felt like one too.

“Shit, what the hell happened to you?,” Ellie exclaimed, popping up from behind her sister.

“I-I um, my AC broke and I couldn’t -,” you sighed, suddenly wishing you had never come in the first place.

“Oh my god, shut up Ellie! Do you think she needs to hear that right now?! Ugh, you’re as clueless as Tommy sometimes,” Sarah groaned, roughly shoving her sister’s head out of the doorframe,“Get out of here, would you? Go distract dad so I can sneak her upstairs. We’ve got some work to do.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to…”

Sarah’s gaze turned back towards you, playful yet pointed as she examined the state of you. Wordlessly she raked her eyes up and down your rumpled form, cocking her eyebrow as if to say really? Heat crept up your neck, a small laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation bubbling up from within as you watched Ellie soldier off in search of her father. It didn’t take long for her to find him apparently, as Sarah was soon rushing you up the stairs and into her room before anyone could see your disheveled state.

Although most of the original makeup had to be wiped off, you had to admit that the girl had a talent for eyeliner, and even managed to corral your sweaty strands back into a cute braid that kept it from sticking to the sides of your face. When Sarah was done you looked different, like yourself but slightly elevated. The makeup was a lot simpler than what you would normally do but it looked good, cute even.

“What do you think? I know it’s nothing fancy, but I think you look really pretty like this,” Sarah chirped, the hope evident in her voice.

You smiled back at her in the mirror, chest tight with emotion as you did. Maybe your only friends at the moment were two teenage girls but damn, were they better company than the vultures you had been friends with before coming to Austin. The friends you used to have would have gladly let you stumble through the party downstairs with your face basically dripping down down to your neck, but not the Miller girls. They had helped and much to your dismay, the eldest had even done a better job at fixing up your face than you had.

“It’s beautiful Sarah, I love it,” you said truthfully, giving her arm a squeeze as you turned around, “Thank you for this, I was getting ready to run home and bar the windows.”

“Eeek! Okay good,” she squealed, shaking your shoulders in excitement, “Now you can go meet everyone. Ugh, but you should probably go see dad first. He’s been asking us every two seconds if you’ve shown up yet. It’s like dude, she’s coming just give her some time to walk across the street before you freak out.”

“Y-Your dad asked about me?,” you asked lightly, trying and failing to keep it cool.

Sarah raised her eyebrows at that, her knowing look making you want to bury your head in the pillows and scream. The last thing you needed was for the stupid crush you had on Joel Miller to become public knowledge, much less the knowledge of one of the most chattiest people you knew.

“Oh big time. He’s been losing his mind about having you here since Friday morning,” she said with a sly grin, “Pretty much turned the house inside out this morning trying to get everything perfect. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dad so excited about having people over. He usually hates it but he got so nervous that he let Uncle Tommy be in charge of the guest list.”

You didn’t answer, too busy trying to control the visceral reaction your nervous system was having to her comment. Joel Miller had been freaking out… over you? That couldn’t be right, not when you had spent the last month convincing yourself that he was a figment of your imagination, or the past 24 hours trying to convince yourself that he was nothing but an overly friendly neighbor.

“I - um… I don’t…,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.

Sarah waved you off, holding out her hand to you instead with a comically wide grin.

“Come on, let’s get down there.”

The barbecue had turned into a bit of a house party in the time it had taken Sarah to fix you up. The house was filled with neighbours mingling with construction crews, kids playing games in the pool out back, and rowdy family members that seemed to be very interested in meeting you. Tommy was the first one you met after he caught Sarah trying to sneak you past. He was kind, seemingly familiar with everyone, and comfortable enough to give you a hug so forceful that it nearly knocked you off balance. It was a stark contrast to the more reserved way Joel carried himself, but it was refreshing nonetheless. His girlfriend, Maria, was less boisterous than him but no less kind, and you soon found yourself at long last conversing with adults your own age who didn’t seem like absolute assholes.

As the pair asked you about your career, education, even the home improvements you planned to do on the bungalow across the street, you felt uncharacteristically at ease. The two of them listened dutifully while you talked, while both of the Miller girls filtered in and out of the conversation as some of their friends showed up. And in turn, you listened to their stories, smiling through every tale that included the southern stud that had eluded you thus far.

Through their stories, you learned that the eldest Miller had once been a swimmer, that he needed glasses terribly but refused to wear them, and that he used to be in a shitty garage band when he was younger. Their stories helped humanize the confusing man. Instead of remaining the handsome stranger who had come to the rescue, he was suddenly the guy who used to shave all of his body hair in highschool so he could get the best time score at swim meets, the guy who gets his daughters to read the fine print on pretty much everything, the guy who once grew his hair out and sang at smoky bars throughout Texas. He was just a regular guy, albeit a handsome and thoughtful one, but a regular guy nonetheless. That comforted you to no end.

“Aw look, here comes trouble,” Tommy called out, interrupting his own juicy story about the time his brother had been kicked out of his own show for swinging on a guy in the crowd that had grabbed one of the waitresses.

“If I’m trouble, then you’re a goddamn villain Tomcat,” Joel drawled, flicking the brim of his brother’s hat as he did.

“Fuck you,” Tommy laughed, dodging another flick as he retreated back to Maria’s side.

“I see you found your way,” Joel said to you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since the disastrous date night just two nights prior.

You really wished Joel would stop looking at you like that. His eyes peered past your exterior, sinking deep into your soul as you took him in all of his glory in. The form-fitting jeans he had chosen, the white t-shirt that fit over his meaty biceps just right, the way his hair was pushed back from his face, the smell of his spicy cologne, was all enough to make someone as neglected as you faint.

You bit your bottom lip, trying not to swoon as you felt Joel’s eyes slide over your body, zeroing in on the way the pink fabric clung to the curves he had seen bare a little over a month ago. He looked just handsome as he had that day, the slight adjustments to his attire only adding to his usual sexy self. And with the heat of his stare scalding every inch of your body, covered or not, you knew that you’d happily give him another peek the second he asked.

“Yeah I mean, hard to get lost when it’s right across the street,” you awkwardly joked, earning a few chuckles from the group.

But Joel didn’t laugh, he just smiled at you, all of the lines in his face smoothing over as he did and you couldn’t help but stare. His mustache was trimmed to perfection, beautifully framing the pouty set of lips that stretched around the grin he gave you. A funny feeling trickled into your lower belly as you stared at his plush mouth, tightening the muscles between your thighs until you were throbbing there. Heart pounding in your chest, you snapped your eyes back up to meet his, knowing that if you stared at his lips any longer, you would be doing something utterly moronic like launching forward to kiss him. Dizzied and drunk off of his heady scent and hypnotic stare, you were frozen, wanting nothing more than to place your hands on the broad expanse of his chest despite the fact that his family was quietly watching the exchange from mere inches away.

“Good, m’glad you came darling,” he said quietly, almost like he was admitting something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Really?,” you squeaked.

A guffaw came from behind you.

“Christ, the girls are right. You two are really something else,” Tommy piped up, shattering the bubble of solace that the two of you had built.

Joel’s face twisted in annoyance, the tips of his ears going bright red as he glowered at his brother. The youngest of the Miller men just laughed and rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around Joel’s shoulders so he could playfully shake him.

“Ya know what? I think that grill is getting pretty lonely out there. Why don’t you two go check on the grub? Joel can flip ‘em and you can make sure he don’t burn nothing,” Tommy suggested, giving his brother a slap on the back for good measure before he released him.

“Oh um, yeah sure,” you stammered, unsure of what else to say.

The thought of being alone with Joel was daunting but with the way he stared at you even when you looked away, the heat of his gaze hot against the side of your face, you decided that you were game for any activity involving him.

“S’fine, you don’t have to help me sweetheart. I can handle it just fine if you wanted to mingle a bit,” Joel said quickly, the urgency in his tone making you frown.

Did Joel not want to hang out with you? Was the thought of spending time with you that awful? Your stomach roiled, dread leaking in through the cracks in your chest and poisoning the hopefulness that had taken root there. Given your many years living in the city, you couldn’t exactly say that you were a pro at barbecuing, but you were willing to try if it meant you could bask in his attention for a bit longer. You sighed, letting all of hopes of getting a moment alone with him drain out of you, shoulders sagging in disappointment. It made sense that Joel didn’t want you out there. Afterall, why would he want to awkwardly stand outside and make nice with the crazy woman across the street that was in constant need of assistance?

“I don’t have to if you don’t uh - if you don’t want me to. Doesn’t matter to me, I could just stay in here if that’s better for you,” you rushed out, trying to ignore just how much it really did matter for some reason.

“Course I want you to.”

Your head snapped up, eyes meeting his again and finding nothing but truthfulness behind them. Something warm and thick bloomed deep inside your belly, blossoming up towards your chest until you were sure butterflies were about to start pouring from your mouth the next time you spoke. Joel stepped closer, holding out one of those big hands that you had been imagining between your thighs. Looking up, you saw the same hope you felt mirrored back in him and you didn’t hesitate to give him your hand, happily allowing him to whisk you away from his family.

The warmth of Joel’s rough palm was soothing, along with the way he pulled you closer to him as he weaved throughout the crowd. It was as if he was shielding you from everyone else, keeping you safe from the construction guys who were drinking beers and talking sports, or the drunken neighbours in the kitchen that were doing jello shots that someone had brung. He even pulled you against him for a moment as a few of the neighbourhood kids scampered by, trapping you between his chest and the wall to keep you from getting soaked by the water guns that their parents were yelling at them to take back outside. His frame pressed against yours, his eyes vigilant as he timed his next move amidst the chaos. You tried not to react when he looked down at you for a moment, stealing all the breath from your lungs as his nose bumped against yours accidentally but just as you thought that your protector might finally devour you, he was on the move again.

When Joel finally reached the patio door, you were three sheets to the wind, completely drunk off of him and praying that he would never let go of your hand again. But alas, with the heat of Austin in full swing and the pool filled with families, there was no reason for him to keep holding it any longer. With no other crowds to conquer, Joel dropped your hand, breaking the connection that was sending a thrill up your spine so he could check on the food.

“Alright, so what’s the game plan?,” you asked shakily, trying to break the tension as you skipped up beside him.

“Game plan?,” Joel repeated, sounding incredulous as he turned to look at you with a toothy grin,“What d'ya mean?”

“The game plan! Your brother designated me as number two on the grill and I’ll have you know that I take my duties extremely seriously,” you said with a mock salute.

He snorted and shook his head at your antics, “S’that right? Well, how about you hand me that meat thermometer and we can see just how cooked these bad boys are.”

“Yes sir.”

It was meant as a joke really, another cheeky remark for Joel to snort over. However, as you watched his spine go rim rod straight, his dark gaze piercing through you as he turned to take you in, you saw the error in your choice of phrase. Although his cheeks were dusted with a light shade of pink, a bit of embarrassment reddening the high points of his distinguished face, his eyes were downright ravenous. A memory trickled into your mind, one where those same eyes had nearly swallowed you whole as they took in every inch of your nude body, and although the pretty sundress you had chosen was secured to your frame, you suddenly felt just as naked under his gaze as you had that day.

Was Joel thinking about your first meeting? God, you hoped so, and you tried to imagine what he would look like in a similar situation. Would Joel race to pick up his towel, apologizing as he tried to cover up his gloriously nude form? Or would he have the same problem as you did, would he be unable to move under your stare despite the aching cock below his navel? And the more you imagined the roles reversed, the more you realized that Joel should be commended for his restraint. If you had seen him in that state, his body still damp and his cock hard, your response would have been to climb him like a tree.

Joel licked his lips, sighing quietly before he shook his head at the look you gave him. He felt it too, whatever was growing between you, flowering under the hot sun as your neighbours bobbed in the pool just meters away. The swimmers were the only thing keeping the two of you in check, both sets of hands twitching at their sides like they were resisting the urge to grab one another. Another few moments passed, moments where you stared at each other through thinly veiled lust, before Joel finally turned away. He ran his hands through his hair a few times, messing up the carefully gelled curls in a way that you found incredibly endearing before he sighed and nodded towards the thermometer within your reach.

“Fuckin’ trouble,” you heard him mumble under his breath, which made you giggle a bit.

“Hm maybe, but I think you like that about me Miller,” you shot back with a wink as you handed him the thermometer.

Joel looked over at you again, making you freeze in place. His expression made you feel like his prey in the best way possible. Like any cheeky comment or seductive wink might cause him to break and throw you over his shoulder like some sort of caveman, stomping upstairs so that he could have his way with you despite the guests. Time slowed, the cacophony of noises coming from the party softened by the buzzing energy growing between you. He stepped into your space, his overwhelming presence growing ten times larger as his hulking frame towered over you again and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

The two of you were practically nose to nose when Joel leaned down, getting so close that you could see the flecks of a lighter brown, almost hazel, mixed in with the rest of the melted chocolate. He was bold, brazen in his powers of seduction as he watched you quiver from the proximity. Those big puppy dog eyes searched yours, the corners of his mouth turning upwards ever so slightly when he found whatever it was he was looking for. Perhaps he could sense just how drenched the gusset of your panties were from simply being in his presence. You didn’t care if he did, especially since his own interest was as clear as day.

“I do like it,” Joel admitted, his voice so soft that you almost thought you dreamt it.

A shaky breath was released from you as you shifted a tad bit closer, the blazing heat of Joel’s chest so enticing that you boldly placed both of your hands on his chest. He didn’t react at first, other than the tiniest hitch of his breath that you would have missed if you weren’t literally touching him, but then he moved. Two big burly arms wrapped around you, one hand resting at the small of your back and pushing you closer while the other gripped your hip, his gaze remaining steady as ever regardless of the embrace.

“Joel,” you whispered, not trusting your voice as a surge of want burned through the both of you like wildfire.

Surely Joel felt the way you shook under him, the nerves mixing with pure excitement as your eyes begged him to do something, anything. He studied your face, a deep flush creeping down his neck as the two of you stayed locked in an embrace that was somehow more intimate than any kiss you had experienced in your entire life. And Joel seemed to sense this, his arms holding you a bit tighter until you calmed from the overwhelming surge of emotions that his welcome touch tore from you. When the shakes were gone, laid to rest by the same man that had started them, all that remained was yearning for him, for Joel.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” Joel whispered, the hand on your hip moving up to brush a few errant strands of hair from your face, “I can feel it too.”

The admission struck you hard, making your eyes widen despite your best attempts to play it off. Joel felt it too. What did he mean by that? Did he daydream about you while he was at work too? Did he wonder what your voice sounded like in the mornings? Did he lay in bed at night, rubbing himself raw to the thought of you fucking the shit out of him? That last part sounded like a stretch but based on the heat gathering between you, along with the way his eyes periodically flicked downwards to take in the sight of your heaving breasts, maybe it wasn’t as far off as you had once thought.

“Joel! How much longer for the - Oh shit, well howdy there to you too neighbour! Looks like the two grill masters are getting along just fine out here by themselves,” Tommy hollered, his jab getting a round of raucous laughter from inside.

The Miller house was equipped with many things that made it beautiful, one thing being a sliding glass door to the backyard that the two of you were standing in front of. With the rest of the party turned towards you with shit eating grins, along with the intimate embrace on full display for what felt like the entirety of Austin, you suddenly wanted nothing more than to sink through the cracks in the boards below and cease to exist. The heat that you had felt when Joel touched you shifted into something much more menacing, something cruel and embarrassing, something that made you feel like you were miles away and being put on display for the millionth time by the man you had once thought loved you.

“Don’t,” Joel barked at his brother, his authoritative tone leaving no room for discussion as he slowly retracted himself.

Tommy’s face fell, a curious look in his eyes as they flickered between the two of you. After a moment, the younger man held his arms up in mock defense, earning an annoyed huff from the man beside you. Although everyone inside had already moved on from the announcement, you shifted closer to Joel, using his large frame as a cover from the heavy weight of shame that had been programmed into you for years.

“My bad y’all, it was a stupid joke,” Tommy said apologetically, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly, “Maria just sent me out to check on how long the food should be. She was gonna send the girls out to set up the salads and shit when you’re ready.”

“Send ‘em out in five minutes or so,” Joel grunted, annoyance laced through every single syllable, “Shouldn’t be long.”

With that, Tommy disappeared back inside, leaving the two of you alone again. You bit your lip as you watched him go, trying to see if anyone else was still leering at you from within the house but everyone seemed too busy chatting with each other to pay any attention to either of you. Sighing, you relaxed a bit. At least this neighbourhood moved on quicker than your last one.

“M’sorry about that sweetheart. Tommy doesn’t mean any harm but he’s just…,” Joel sighed and shook his head, “He’s not the best at reading the room. Embarrassing ya probably wasn’t his goal, he just never knows where the damn line is.”

“It’s… It’s okay, I just don’t really like being in the spotlight like that, ” you said softly, still feeling a bit antsy despite your best attempts at calming your racing heart, “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I know that Tommy didn’t mean anything by it, let’s just move on.”

“Why do you do that?,” he asked suddenly.

The question took you off guard, so much so that it broke through your nerves and diminished the shakes that were wracking your frame again. At first you thought that Joel was making a cruel joke, that he was poking fun at your inability to thrive in social settings, but when you looked in his eyes all you saw was an earnest curiosity.

“I didn’t want to make anyone upset or for any of your friends to get the wrong idea about you by seeing us like that. Plus, I know that I can be too much sometimes, just tell me if I get too annoying or something,” you sighed.

Too much, that had been your moniker for years. Whether it was the way you dressed, your apparently over the top contributions to conversations, or the love you had for your work when someone asked; the most common complaint had been that you were a presence that somehow overwhelmed and fell short at the same time. Slowly, you had learned to be quieter, to make yourself miniscule so that you didn’t distract from the real star of the show that you were meant to prop up, to be as perfect as you could when necessary before retreating back to your books and the lonely apartment you shared with a ghost. To be on display in any context where you didn’t look utterly flawless felt wrong. Worse than wrong, it felt like failure.

“You’re not too much honey, you’re just enough f’me.”

Stunned by Joel’s words, you blinked up at him, unsure of what to say in response to that. All of the oxygen left your lungs, the excess air whooshing out of you all at once, and you tried to think of something to say. However, luckily for you, he wasn’t done.

“Plus, how in the hell could I be embarrassed by someone like you? It’s me that you should be embarrassed about. Christ, I can’t even keep my damn hands to myself when I’m supposed to be watching the damn grill. S’all my fault really, I couldn’t help it,” Joel murmured apologetically.

You shook your head, absolutely shocked by his words. Joel didn’t move to hold you again, likely fearful of the reaction he would get after his brother’s joke had embarrassed you so badly, but he did reach out. A shiver ran through you as one of his thick fingers pushed your hair behind your ear, lingering near your jaw for just a moment like he couldn’t help his need for even the slightest of touches before he dropped it back down to his side.

“If anything,” Joel started, a playfulness to his tone as he turned back towards the food, “You’re the exact opposite of too much honey. I mean, it’s like I’m neighbours with a goddamn hermit or something. Only ever see ya coming back from work at the end of the day.”

A small chuckle broke through your frayed nerves, releasing some of the tension that had been building between you since the second he dragged you outside.

“My apologies Mr. Miller, I wasn’t aware that I had loyal fans watching my every move,” you teased, grabbing one the plates beside him so that he could start taking the food off the grill.

Joel laughed, “Well, all I’m saying is that I hope you don’t disappear on me again. Can’t be putting together an event like this every time I want to see that face of yours.”

“Oh, so this was all just a ploy to see me then?,” you asked, giggling at the dark splotches of red that flooded his cheeks in response.

“I-I uh, well not exactly. I do sometimes um, sometimes I have barbecues like this. I like to cook and the girls,” he cleared his throat, “The girls said that you like to er… eat food.”

Joel winced and you cackled, throwing your head back as you laughed at his shaky excuse. The thought of him hosting such a big event in hopes that you might come by was adorable, as well as a tad bit frightening. Nobody had ever done something so big for you and for some reason, you felt like you should apologize for making him go to such lengths. But his previous words played over and over in your mind - you’re not too much honey, you’re just enough f’me - and you let it soothe you.

Joel Miller was a grown man who made his own choices. Even if he threw you a million barbecues to get your attention, it didn’t mean that you were too demanding. You hadn’t even asked for the first one. He had thrown this party all on his own, simply because he wanted to get your attention. That wasn’t cause for fear, it was cause for celebration. Someone had done something for you, something that you had thoroughly enjoyed despite the momentary panic that came from his youngest brother’s taunting. Regardless of the little demons in your brain trying to ruin the moment, you decided to ignore them, to enjoy the warmth that came from having the attention be on you in a good way for once.

“Well, you have my number now so you could always text me if you wanted to see me. Not that this isn’t great, but it must have been a lot of work just to hang out with little old me. I can’t be that scary, am I? I promise that I don’t bite… usually,” you joked.

He chuckled, nudging you with his side as he continued to plate the food. It was a small gesture but it made you grin, the feeling of his body pressing into yours for even the most fleeting of moments so natural and calming that you longed for him to do it again. Physical touch was not something you had ever been averted to per se, but you had never yearned for someone’s touch like Joel’s. His touch lit a fire underneath your skin and you knew that the flames could only possibly be soothed by more.

“Like I said darling, you’re trouble,” Joel mumbled.

“Like I said, you like it,” you repeated, earning another nudge from him.

Joel didn’t say anything, he just smiled and shook his head at you. Which was good, as you were sure that your poor heart couldn’t have taken any more of his sweet words or lingering glances without having some sort of embarrassing reaction in front of the family members that were filtering out of the house with condiments and salad bowls.

As Ellie and Sarah slipped outside, you stepped away from their dad, trying to keep a reasonable distance in fear of overstepping. However, just as you moved away from him, Joel reclaimed the empty space, wordlessly gluing himself back to your side despite their presence. You looked over at the two girls, both of them busy with preparing the table full of food, before looking back at the man in question with a raised brow.

Joel followed your gaze, his eyes alight as he watched them for a moment before he looked back at you. He shrugged and rolled his eyes, dispelling all of your worries without a single word. He didn’t care. A small smile graced your lips, heat creeping up the side of your neck as you felt him gravitate closer every time one of your movements put space between the two of you again.

Joel really didn’t care how close he was, or that his family and the rest of the party were slowly making their way towards the food tables set up in the backyard. You couldn’t believe it. It was as if he was actually proud of it, silently claiming you in front of every single guest at his party regardless of what any of them thought, and it made you unreasonably excited. You weren’t even that dressed up and likely had sweat trickling down your back from the blazing heat, but Joel stayed in place, hovering at your side like he was meant to be there.

Never once had your ex showing you off at his fundraisers or networking events made you feel how Joel did in that moment. The praise you were accustomed to had always felt cheap, like he was rating you based on how fuckable you looked in front of his fellow PhD pricks. And somehow, regardless of how creepily some of them stared at you in those skin tight cocktail dresses, you never seemed to quite make the cut for him. But Joel Miller marking his territory as he was, proudly staking his claim as he kept his eyes glued to you at all times? It made you feel nearly ten years younger, like you were the wide eyed nineteen year old who screamed into her pillow when she found out that a boy that she liked thought that she was pretty.

So you leaned into it, into Joel’s warmth, allowing the handsome man to stay rooted at your side as everyone gathered around for dinner. He led you over to a chair next to his and you let him, uncaring of the way his arms brushed against yours during the meal, or that he laughed when you missed your mouth because you were too busy trying to sneakily glance over at him. It was hard to be embarrassed anyways when someone as handsome as him was leaning over, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb with a goofy grin glued to his face.

Although you had come across the street sweating and unsure where you stood with him, Joel had made his own intentions loud and clear from the moment you arrived. And despite the fact that just a week ago you had made the decision to steer clear of anything that wasn’t casual, it was becoming harder to remember why you would ever want such a thing. How could you possibly be bothered by something that felt so comfortable, something that eased all of the stress from your mind and made you forget what was waiting for you back at home?

So, you smiled and allowed Joel to lead you towards where the other adults were gathered in the backyard after supper, whispering a small thank you that made him beam when he brought you a new drink without ever being asked. Tommy was leading the group in one of his many stories but neither of you paid him any mind, too busy sneaking glances at each other and fidgeting in lieu of reaching out in the summer heat.

- Joel -

For nearly the entire night Joel had stood watch at your side, sucking up every bit of attention you would grant him as the party raged on into the early evening. Even as his house began to clear out when the families started to pack up their sun-drunk children, and oftentimes their even drunker significant others, he had been able to stay strapped to your hip. But when Tommy, fucking Tommy, had called him inside to find a broom he could use to clean up a broken bottle, Joel had been forced to leave you alone with Maria.

The task itself hadn’t taken long, a little less than five minutes altogether, and yet Joel had come back outside to find you missing. He slipped in and out of the stragglers that were slowly headed towards the exit, praying that he might catch a glimpse of the one person he had thrown the damn event for, but came up entirely empty. A heavy sigh fell from his mouth, something inside of him aching at the realization that you were gone. Your sudden departure stung, his gut roiling as he tried to think of a reason that you would leave without saying goodbye to him, but he couldn’t think of any.

In any other circumstance Joel would have let himself dwell on it a bit longer, perhaps even retreating to the sanctity of his room to wallow in his own sadness for the rest of the night but he couldn’t, not when he had two kids with his last name that were making their way over to him. His love life, as embarrassing and depressing as it was at times, was none of their concern so he shook it off and put on a brave face for them despite the sting of rejection that dulled his smile.

“How was the party? Did she like it? Did you finally ask her out? What are you two going to do for the first date? You’re the one planning it right? Can we help?,” Ellie babbled excitedly, getting an elbow to the ribs from her sister in return.

“Don’t overwhelm him, jeez,” Sarah admonished with an eye roll, before she smiled mischievously and turned back towards him, “But Ellie has a point, did you ask her out?”

Joel shook his head at the both of them, wishing like hell they would drop their incessant quest to hook the two of you up. He wanted to be with you so badly that it hurt, but he was a fully grown man who could get his own dates and the last thing he needed when he finally did take you out was to have to give his daughters credit for the idea. He wanted the date and whatever it entailed to come from him, from his heart like you deserved.

“First of all, the two of you need to stop being so damn nosy. I can handle myself just fine. And secondly, I will ask out whoever I want to, whenever I want to. I don’t need y’all giving me any notes on how to do it for Christ’s sake,” he said, wagging a finger at the both of them.

“I told you that he’s too chickenshit to ask her,” Ellie sighed, as if she had already predicted his inevitable fumble.

“Damn, I guess I owe you and Tommy twenty bucks then. I really thought he’d ask her tonight,” Sarah said, the shock evident in her voice.

“There were bets on it?!,” Joel asked incredulously, “Jesus Christ, we don’t even know each other that well yet. I can’t just go around asking out women without getting to know them first, that ain’t proper.”

“She’s not a stranger Dad, she’s the lady that you run to the door to stare at every time you hear her car come in,” Ellie chuckled.

“Ellie has a point there, and you can’t get mad at us for placing bets on it when it was Uncle Tommy’s idea. We are innocent children, he’s an adult,” Sarah added with a shrug.

As the smoke started practically pouring from Joel’s ears, he watched as both of his kids inched towards the door to the house. Ellie was already about halfway through by the time he had fully soaked it in, while Sarah was a bit slower to react than her sister. Joel wasn’t sure where Tommy was but given all the shit that the asshole had pulled that day, his days were fucking numbered. He was about ready to wring his brother’s neck the next time he came across him, so much so that he barely caught his eldest daughter’s rushed goodbyes.

“Okay well, have fun hunting down Uncle Tommy. We’re going to go to the movies with Riley and Sam. See you later dad, please don’t kill any of our family members while we’re gone,” Sarah shouted as she retreated into the safety of the house.

Utterly defeated by the day, Joel sighed and shook his head. He couldn’t be mad at any of them really, especially when he was such a lost cause these days. There had been attempts to establish a real relationship despite his hectic life, some successful for a time and some not, but none of them ever seemed to work out.

There was Marlene, a woman who he could have seen himself pretending to be happy with if she hadn’t abandoned him and their only child a few weeks after she was born. Then there was Tess, a heart break of major proportions that he desperately tried not to think about if he could help it, but after her the rest seemed to just blur together. His roster was an endless list of first dates and third ones, that inevitably fun first time together followed soon by the hard talk they all eventually gave him when they fell out of lust. It was all so meaningless, so boring that he had put it to rest a few years back but then, you.

What Joel felt for you, it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t sure how yet, or more importantly why, but he knew that you were different from the other women that he had tried to form a relationship with before. Perhaps it was the way your smile broke through all his defenses, shaking the dust off of a part of his heart that had been rotting for years, or perhaps it was just fate. Either way, all of his usual worries about trying again were nowhere to be seen, as if even his hyperactive nervous system understood that you were somehow the exception. And since you were the exception, Joel decided that he didn’t mind that you had left. He would throw one party after the next all summer long, going full on Jay Gatsby and letting the entire state trample through his home if it meant you might show up again someday.

As the last few guests filtered out, including his brother who he made sure to slap upside the head for distracting him, Joel hatched a plan. Since you had clearly left in such a hurry, you likely hadn’t gotten the chance to take home any leftovers. With how much you had “helped” on the grill, it wouldn’t be right for him to hog the remaining feast. If Joel happened to stroll over with a few plates of food in his hands, well that was just being neighborly wasn’t it?

Convincing himself that his ridiculous scheme would work, Joel hurried to the kitchen, his mind racing as he tried to remember what sides and desserts you had liked the most. It was only when he turned the corner, skidding to a full stop at the sound of someone humming along to the crackly radio in his kitchen, that he realized his plan was pointless. There you were, still clad in one the most gorgeous dresses he had seen you in so far, quietly tidying the space as if it were your own.

“Hey,” Joel breathed, in awe of the scene in front of him that seemed too good to be true.

You glanced back at him, “Hey stranger.”

“What are you doing sweetheart?,” he asked, slinking up behind you so he could lean against the other side of the sink.

“Dishes needed to be done and I hate saying goodbye to people as they leave. It’s always so fucking awkward. Irish goodbye is more my style,” you said.

“Yeah,” he chuckled softly, the warmth radiating off of him as he added, “Mine too.”

Smiling in response, you nodded towards the towel hanging off the stove, silently ordering him to work alongside you once more. And who was Joel to say no to a beautiful woman commanding him to help her? He happily bounded over to your side with the towel in hand, grinning ear to ear as the two of you worked in silence.

It was quiet but comfortable, the soft sounds of a Marvin Gaye song that he had long since forgotten the name of and the slight movement of water providing a warmth to the air that only brought the two of you closer. Joel couldn’t stop looking over at you, finding it hard to stay focused each time your eyes met his. He tried to remain calm, to remind himself that you had returned his advances just hours before, but he couldn’t seem to get his words in order. How hard was it to ask someone out? Apparently for Joel, it was nearly impossible.

“I wanted to ask you -” you started, the sound of your soft voice after such a long period of silence nearly causing him to jump out of his own skin.

“You wanted to ask?,” Joel asked once he recovered, hoping like hell that you were thinking the same thing as him.

You looked over at him for a second, the confidence you had faltering when your eyes met his.

“Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

Joel’s entire being drooped towards the floor, the hope he had squashed under your dismissal. Shy was not the word he would use to describe the woman who had flirted with him outside and yet, you seemed more flustered than you had been when he held you in his arms earlier that day. He cocked his head, trying and failing to pinpoint your change of mood.

“M’kay well, if you think of it again I’m all ears,” he joked, getting nothing but a forced smile in response.

Joel bristled, his jaw clenched as you turned and continued to make your way through the dirty dishes. He eyed the remaining pile, suddenly regretting the decision to use red solo cups and paper plates. If he had used his own, he’d be able to keep you trapped a little longer, perhaps even get you to ask him that question you had wanted to ask. But instead, the clock was running out of time so Joel did the only thing he could think of, he filled the space with his own frivolous questions.

“How’s that new house of yours going? Are ya sick of this town yet or what?,” Joel asked lightly, hoping he could break you out of the funk that you had been mysteriously drawn into.

But it didn’t. In fact, the question only made you sigh, shaking your head in defeat before you begrudgingly looked back at him.

“Look, whatever the girls told you, it’s totally fine. I shouldn’t have even said anything, the situation is under control. The repairman said that they would probably be able to get around to it by the end of next week when I called, so it’ll be fixed up in no time,” you said.

“Huh? The girls didn’t tell me shit. They’ve been too busy hanging out with their friends,” Joel said slowly, squaring his shoulder as he added, “But you do know that I own a contracting business right? Whatever it is, I guarantee I can fix it better than any of the other idiots in this goddamn town. Bet I’d be a hell of a lot cheaper too.”

Joel went through a rudimentary list of the potential problems in your home that he had noticed as you took in his words, trying to rank the issues on a scale of need so he could figure it out himself in case you decided not to tell him. The roof would probably need to be reshingled soon, but luckily the fact that you lived in a warmer state meant you probably had another year or so. It could be the faulty wiring in the downstairs kitchen, in which case he prayed that you would let him fix it before you electrocuted yourself trying to make toast. Or perhaps it was the window in your upstairs office, the one that he knew undoubtedly leaked when it rained, but all that would need was a fresh layer of caulk and it would be good to go.

“Oh um, it’s really nothing Joel. Forget I said anything. I wouldn’t want to take advantage,” you rushed out, trying to avoid eye contact as you pulled the plug on the empty sink.

Joel cocked his eyebrow, bringing his wet hands to his hips so that he could get into what his girls had coined numerous times as his signature dad stance. He gave you a challenging look, pulling out the big guns to get you to fess up to whatever fix your tiny home needed.

“Ugh fine, it’s just my stupid fucking AC. It broke last night while I was asleep and I can’t figure out how to fix it without literally shocking myself,” you confessed, rolling your eyes at the way his mouth popped open to form a perfect O.

“Jesus honey, you ain’t working on it while the damn thing is still plugged in are ya?,” he questioned, already knowing the answer based on your face alone.

“Maybe…”

Joel groaned, all of the worst case scenarios running wild through his mind as he thought about you attempting to fix it again by yourself. And the fact that you didn’t call him immediately to begin with? Absolutely unacceptable. What good was having a contractor that worshipped the ground you walked on if you didn’t let him tinker with any of your things? He groaned at his own stupidity, knowing that if he had worked up the courage to talk to you at any point in the last month, you probably wouldn’t have felt the need to call another person to come fix your AC.

“I’ll come by tomorrow. Just please, for my sake darling, don’t be touching it again until I get there alright? You could’ve really hurt yourself doing that,” Joel begged.

“Joel, it’s fine. I really don’t need you t-”

“I ain’t asking for your permission. I’m telling you that I’ll be at your house tomorrow morning to fix that old ass AC of yours and that’s that. And if you don’t answer the door, it’s a Sunday so I’ve got all day sweetheart. I’ll just keep on knocking until you answer it,” he cut in, grinning at the way your pupils dilated in response.

A small noise came from you, followed by a shaky nod that made Joel grin. You were so responsive to him, so easily affected by his words that it made him want to push the boundaries that seemed to only blur more the longer he spent time with you. He wanted to break them all down at once, to pour himself into you until you were fused together as one, but he refrained. To be with you in that way was a privilege, one that he hadn’t earned yet. So until that time, he would remain at your side, allowing his feelings for you to cross into dangerous territory as he learned more about the woman he’d happily get on his knees and grovel for.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out some way to thank you Miller. It seems that every time I get stuck, I’ve got you coming to my rescue,” you joked halfheartedly.

Joel chuckled, pretending to mull it over for a moment. He had an idea of how you could make it up to him but he didn’t want to push, especially with how much time you had already spent with him that day. Nevertheless, he was too greedy to stop himself, already dreading the thought of you walking back across the street.

“How about you stick around a bit longer and have a bowl of ice cream with me? That’d make us square,” Joel proposed, trying to sound as casual as he could.

You grinned, “Not sick of me yet?”

He shook his head and grinned back, “Not yet, no.”

Joel drifted over to the freezer, groaning when he realized that all of his many flavors had been cut in half by his kids’ inherited sweet tooth. All he had left was either chocolate or coffee, two flavors that you excitedly asked him to combine rather than choosing one. He went along with it, piling the bowls high with the impromptu mixture before he led you to the swing in the backyard.

It was a little bit off to the side, in a corner that held a garden and was blocked from the sun by the tree that it sat under, but it was the perfect place to sit at that time of night. With the sun setting on the horizon, turning the water in the pool a shade of pink that reminded Joel of bubblegum, he had to admit that his backyard had never looked better, even with the mess that the party had left behind.

“I know that I’ve probably already told you this today but you have a really nice place Joel. It feels so… -,” you trailed off, looking for the right word to describe it for a second before you suddenly smiled up at him and said, “ - homey. I’ve never felt so comfortable at someone else’s place before.”

Every inch of Joel’s face must have lit up like a Christmas tree at that admission, he could feel it in the way all of the unused muscles around his mouth worked overtime to give you what must have been his millionth smile of the day. You felt at home in his space. That alone made this friendly barbecue better than any first date he had ever had, and he hadn’t even asked you out yet.

“Fuck, that’s a mighty big compliment coming from you sweet girl. Thank ya,” he gushed, trying not to sound like the awestruck idiot he was.

You nodded, taking another bite of your frozen treat as your eyes took in the scenery once more. Joel suddenly wished he had the artistic abilities that his youngest possessed so that he could capture the way you looked in the golden light of the fading day. A picture couldn’t possibly do your beauty any justice, it couldn’t capture how the light danced in your eyes and polished every inch of your skin. Only someone with pure talent would be able to do that. But alas, the best Joel could do when it came to portraits was wonky stick figures, not the beautiful masterpieces you deserved to be depicted as. And he was about to tell you as much, spilling all of his lovestruck secrets as he watched you take another bite of the frozen treat, but then you spoke.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been spending so much time with your daughters. I know it’s a bit weird, but they have insanely good taste in movies, if I do say so myself,” you joked.

“So I’ve heard,” he chuckled.

Your smile faltered and Joel leaned in, trying to ground you without crowding you too much.

“Ellie and Sarah have been very kind to me. I um… I didn’t really have a lot of kind people in my life before coming here,” you sighed.

Joel tried to control his face, a strange mixture of emotions running through him in response to the statement. Pride came first, the dad in him unable to not feel some sort of way upon hearing that his children had been the compassionate people he raised them to be while outside of their father’s watchful eye, but then came grief and above all else, outrage. He wasn’t surprised that you had been around people undeserving of your presence, the constant apologizing and the way you sometimes shrunk in on yourself was enough to tell him that. What he was surprised at was how you still seemed to feel guilty about receiving the kindness of others, as if you didn’t think that you were worthy of it.

“Darling, you can spend time with the girls whenever ya like. They love it over there and I think…,” he sighed and shook his head, “I think it’s good for them to have someone like you around. Lord knows that I ain’t the best listener at times, but you? You’re easy to talk to and you understand them in a way that I can’t. Hell, they’d probably trade me in for you if they could.”

You smiled again and Joel sighed in relief. He liked you better like that, happy and carefree, not weighed down by the past. He longed to ask you about it, to know exactly why someone as amazing as you would fold in on yourself instead of standing tall, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t his place and given his own closet full of skeletons, he was in no position to push.

“That means a lot Joel,” you sighed once you were done, looking down at your hands before you added, “I just worry that I’m in the way ya know? Sometimes it feels like people are just being nice and inviting me to places because they want to put me on display, or because they feel obligated to, and I just hate it so much.”

“What do ya mean?”

“I don’t know. When I was with my ex, it felt like he was trying to show everyone else up. It was like I was in some sort of beauty contest that I never signed up for. And with my friends, my invite always felt forced or like an afterthought. Either way, nobody ever wanted me to show up somewhere and just be me so now I just can’t fathom why…,” you trailed off.

“I understand,” Joel said quietly.

And he did, truly. Although Joel was the oldest, that didn’t mean he was the most popular Miller brother, or even the smartest. He was quiet, sullen at times, and quick to anger before he had his girls. At most parties, he could be seen with a drink in hand, standing off to the side as he tried to dodge attempts to get him out onto the dance floor. And although Joel didn’t know what it was like to be dragged around like some sort of prize because of his looks, he did know what it was like to feel used. Such had been the case with the last few women he had tried to date, who had all snuck into his sheets and then ran for the hills the moment he brought up meeting his kids.

Then there was the friend comment, which broke Joel’s heart almost more than the admission about your ex. His heart had been broken once by a woman who he thought he would raise his daughter with, Marlene, but he had gotten over that easily as he watched Sarah grow. He didn’t hold any animosity towards the woman anymore, wherever she was. How could he when she had given him one of the greatest gifts? But what he would never get over, what he still could not forgive, was what Tess had done to him. It had been nearly fifteen years and thinking about his best friend’s betrayal still made him feel as he had that day. Having a shitty ex was one thing, but shitty friends? That was a hard pill to swallow.

“Yeah um, your girls told me a bit about you. I hope you don’t m-”

“Of course I don’t mind,” he cut in, stopping the needless apology before it was even fully out, “You can ask them or me anything ya like darling, I want you to know me.”

You blinked, cocking your head at him for a second before you looked away. Deep in thought, your ice cream was all but abandoned, melting in your lap as you stared off into space. Joel sighed and scooched over, getting a bit closer so he could lift the bowl from your lap before it ruined the pretty pink dress you had on. He scooped the bowl up, reaching across you to put it on the small table attached to the side of the swing but when he leaned back, you were looking at him funny, like you either wanted to jump in his lap or attack him violently. Not sure which one it was, he chose the safest option and started to move out of your personal space but once again, your actions shocked him.

Lifting your feet up off the ground, you quickly scooched closer to his side, placing your head directly on his shoulder in a way that made him feel warm all over. Joel paused, unsure what to do with himself for a moment before you let out a small disgruntled noise that kicked him into action. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders, allowing your body to relax under the weight of it as he pulled you close. With you glued to his side and the sunset slowly fading into dusk, Joel was astounded by his own luck. He waited for the harsh sting of reality to come but it never did. All he got instead was a sleepy, “This okay? I can move if you want,” from you.

“Don’t you dare sweetheart, you’re perfect right there,” Joel murmured, moving his head so he could press his cheek against the top of your head.

Joel wasn’t sure what you used for shampoo but he needed the brand name ASAP. That and your perfume, or was it a body lotion that made you smell so good? Whatever it was, he was on a mission to find it so he could buy some for himself. He wanted to spray it everywhere, to have your signature scent saturate every surface of his home, his truck, his office, but he knew it wouldn’t be the same. There had to be something about you that made it so delicious, and he knew that he would forever chase that key ingredient in hopes to one day bottle it for himself.

“Joel?”

“Yeah?,” Joel murmured.

“Thank you for inviting me. I had a really good time today and I hope…”

He waited for a moment, giving you a chance to speak up before he asked, “You hope?”

Joel felt you shift beneath his arm and moved his head back, giving you just enough space to look up at him from where you were slumped against his side. Your face was close to his, so close that he could feel your tiny breaths puff out against his lips but he didn’t pay it any mind. It was your eyes that he was looking at, so expressive yet so guarded, a small part of you still holding on to the wall you had built around yourself despite everything.

“Nothing, it’s just…,” you tried, clearly struggling to articulate whatever it was you were feeling, “You’re kind too and I hope… Well, I need to be around kind people right now and I hope that I can see you a bit more if that’s uh - if you’re not too busy with work or family.”

Without even thinking about it, Joel leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against your forehead. It wasn’t even remotely sexual, nothing but a trick he had used multiple times to soothe the cuts and bruises of his kids over the years, but it was intimate. Nevertheless, you didn’t seem to care, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips before you snuggled back into his side.

“You ain’t getting rid of me that easy,” Joel whispered, placing his cheek back atop of your head as the two of you watched the last bit of sun dip below the horizon.

“Good.”

-You-

The party had ended around 8pm that night, but you didn’t leave Joel’s house until well past midnight. After the impromptu heart to heart, you had fallen into a dreamless sleep, unknowingly squishing him into the corner of the swing as you napped. You were mortified when he finally woke you up, vehemently apologizing for trapping him in his own backyard as you tried to fix your rumpled dress, but he waved you off.

“Darling, I was fine. If I wanted to get up, I would’ve told ya, but I was comfy like that and you’re cute when you sleep. Hell, I would’ve let ya nap on me forever but I just didn’t want us to get rained on,” Joel had chuckled, gesturing vaguely towards the sky.

Before you could even react to the flattery, Joel had reached out and smoothed some of your hair back in place, pulling the few strands that had fallen from your braid back behind your ear. It made you squirm under his gaze and he held his hand to you as the raindrops began to fall. What started as a drizzle soon turned into an all out downpour and Joel hurried you towards the backdoor, the both of you laughing like kids as the heavens suddenly opened up and drenched the two of you.

“Joel! The bowls!,” you shouted over the sound of water slapping against the pavement around the pool.

“Fuck ‘em, I’ll get them tomorrow” he yelled back, forcing another round of boisterous laughter from the two of you as the rain beat down against your backs.

Joel practically ripped the door open trying to get the two of you back to safety, earning another round of giggles from you as he practically launched you inside with the hold he had on your hand. Stumbling in, you barely managed to catch yourself on the island in his kitchen and wheeled around to face him. He hurried in behind you, cussing as he pulled the sliding door closed.

“Holy fuck, I thought we’d have more time than that,” Joel whistled, watching as lightening struck the tree the two of you had just been lounging under.

“More time? How long did you wait to wake me up?,” you chuckled.

Joel turned to look at you, the sight of how soaked he was reigniting that spark between your legs. The shirt he had on was tight against his chest, showing off the strong physique you already had a feeling he possessed. The thick corded muscles in his arms were glistening, along with the tantalizing spot on his neck where rain water dripped from his curls. And the way he was looking, catching how you squeezed your thighs together at how breathtaking he looked, it told you that he felt the exact same way.

“I uh…,” Joel started, swallowing once before he started again, “I wasn’t ready for ya to leave yet honey. I just really didn’t want today to be over, ya know?”

You gave him a small smile and dipped your chin, suddenly feeling bashful. It didn’t help that your whole body was basically on display, the pink dress glued to every curve, every hip dip, every imperfection as stood in front of him. And yet, when you looked back up, Joel didn’t seem to see the same thing you did. At first, you thought he might be in pain, the heavy crease between his brows making it seem like he was suffering from a migraine of some sort. But as you watched as he raked his eyes up and down your figure, taking in everything, you knew that it was desire for you that had twisted his face like that.

“Jesus, what the fuck happened to you two?”

You gasped, turning towards the teenager that had just strolled into the kitchen. Ellie’s eyes bounced between the two of you, cocking an eyebrow at the obvious tension before she shook her head and headed towards the fridge.

“What the hell are ya doing here? I thought y’all were headed to the movies,” Joel asked, seemingly just as flustered as you were.

“In case you forgot old man, movies are like really long TV shows that you go to see and they are usually about 2 to 3 hours long. We left at seven forty five man,” she sassed as she dug through the freezer and pulled out a tub of cookie dough.

Looking over at the clock, you balked. It was a little bit after a little bit after twelve, well past your usual bedtime as a certified homebody. How long had you been outside for? You didn’t even remember what time it had been when you snuck inside to do the dishes, much less when they had been finished.

“I’m so sorry Joel, I should probably go. I didn’t realize it was that late, you probably want to get to bed soon,” you apologized, trying to pinpoint where your shoes and purse had gone in the hours since you arrived. .

“You think I’m letting ya go out there in this?,” Joel asked incredulously.

The wind howled outside at that moment, as if mother nature herself was trying to highlight his point. Even with how dark it was, you could see the way the trees shuddered, the branches thrashing under the gusts blowing rainwater every which way. But still, the last thing you wanted was to overstay your welcome. Which, given the fact that Joel’s youngest daughter was moseying back upstairs in her pajama pants with a tub of half eaten cookie dough in her hands, you were pretty sure that you already had.

“Joel, I’m not made out of sugar. Plus, I wouldn’t want to put you out seeing as you’ve already been stuck with me all day and I -”

“Enough of that, c’mon sweetheart,” Joel sighed as he held his hand out to you again.

“Wait, what?,” you questioned, pulse quickening as Joel grabbed your hand again.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” he said, dragging you out of the kitchen without another word.

What you expected was for Joel to bring you towards the couch in the living room, perhaps even cover you in one of the many throw blankets that had been left on various surfaces in the room, but instead he led you towards the staircase. You squeaked as he yanked you up the steps and through the hallway, bypassing the room you knew to be Sarah’s and what you guessed was Ellie’s based on the daunting keep out sign that was tacked to the door. It was only after you passed the upstairs bathroom that you realized where he was bringing you.

“You’re taking me to your room?,” you burst out, unable to keep it in.

Joel turned back, a sly grin on his face at the look of your flustered face. He laughed, shaking his head as he stopped at the very last door in the hall.

“Well, it’s where I keep my clothes sweetheart,” he chuckled, turning back to open the door as he added, “Unless of course you want to try squeezing into one of the girl’s clothes. I’m sure they’d be real comfy for ya darling.”

The thought of trying to squeeze your frame into a fourteen year old’s clothes was downright embarrassing. You were a fully grown, thirty year old woman, with all of the curves and extra padding that came with that. And with how skinny the two teenage girls were, you shuddered to think of even attempting such an impossible task.

“Okay fair enough. There’s no way these hips would fit in either of their jeans,” you chuckled, before you stuck a finger in his face,“But no funny business Mr. Miller. This is a clothing swap, nothing more.”

He laughed and nodded along, “Of course honey, wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

With that, Joel left you hovering near his bed, disappearing into the walk in closet to fetch you some decent clothes. Although you longed to sit on the foot of his bed, to feel the creamy texture of what looked to be the softest sheets you had ever seen against your skin, you refrained in fear of getting them soaked. Instead, you floated around, taking in small pieces of the man while he was busy digging through his clothes.

There was a guitar in the corner of the room, along with a record player with a milk crate of records that unsurprisingly held the greatest hits of a few country legends. An ensuite bathroom was attached to his room, where he had left out the tub of hair gel he had used that morning and the cologne you loved so much. A painting of a deer hung above his bed, while a picture of two chunky toddlers that had to be Ellie and Sarah was placed on his nightstand. A TV hung on the opposite end of the wall over his dresser, which of course held more pictures of his girls and even one of him as a kid.

You picked up the old picture, smiling when you recognized the Miller brothers. They were boys whenever it was taken, no more than six and ten, but you could see exactly who was who based on their expressions alone. While Tommy was captured mid-laugh, missing several of his baby teeth as he grinned maniacally at the camera while clutching his mother’s leg, Joel was more reserved. His smile was small, surprisingly awkward even, though you could tell it had been a happy day based on the large fish he held in his hands and the proud looks that both of his parents were giving him. It made you slightly jealous but you pushed the feeling away, reminding yourself that it wasn’t right to long for something so trivial as an adult.

“Whatcha got there?,” Joel piped up from behind you, his deep voice causing you to jump and fumble with the frame.

“Shit, sorry. You scared me,” you laughed nervously, placing the picture down before you shattered it.

He shook his head and stepped forward, placing a set of soft looking clothes on the bed so he could examine your choice.

“Ah, that’s a good one. That was the first fish I ever caught and it was a twenty one pound channel catfish. Pops was so proud that he damn near cried. Tommy was excited too but I don’t think he really understood what was going on, he was only in first grade. He just liked that everyone was cheering,” Joel laughed.

“I don’t know anything about fishing but I’m gonna assume that twenty one pounds is really impressive?,” you tried.

He snorted, “Ah yes, my apologies sweetheart, I forgot you were a city girl. Yeah, it’s a pretty good catch for that kind of catfish. Anything higher than twenty pounds is considered a score.”

“I was only a city girl after high school Joel, I didn’t grow up in Miami,” you sassed, rolling your eyes at him, “For your information, I grew up in a small town before that. Everyone knew each other and had their noses in everyone else’s business, same as here probably.”

“S’that right? Well pardon me darling, I must’ve misjudged ya. Didn’t realize I had a certified backwoods beauty gracing me with her presence,” he joked.

“Yeah well, I haven’t been back there since I left for university so the city has probably rubbed off on me a bit,” you sighed, trying to remember what it felt like to be back in that town.

It had been twelve years since you left home, filled with dreams and ready to leave behind the place that had held you back for far too long. With nothing but twenty bucks to your name and a flashy scholarship with your name on it, you had taken the first bus out of town. You remember that day, when your eighteen year old self had left for the airport practically vibrating with excitement. Nobody had even known you were going and you didn’t care to tell them, knowing even at that age that your big dreams would have been laughed out of the house. You sighed when you thought of that day and all of the aspirations you had once held, knowing that with how your life had turned out after meeting your ex during that first year of university, they would have been right.

“No family then?,” he asked carefully, as if he already knew it was a touchy subject based on the way all of the muscles in your body tensed up.

Schooling your face, you turned to him and said as casually as possible, “Nope, just me.”

It wasn't really a lie, you hadn’t seen any of them in years. No family members had been invited to your graduation, your wedding, or your thesis defense during master’s, despite the fact that they were all probably still alive and well. Your parents were likely still in the same run down town, smoking on the porch as they watched the cars go by and bickered over who had drunk the last can of coke. And the one brother you had was likely either in jail or somewhere commiting the felonies that would inevitably bring him straight back. They had never liked you and the feeling was mutual even as a child, so to call them family would be a great exaggeration. And as far as your former in-laws went, you knew they were likely relieved that you had vanished out of thin air. They were probably thrilled that their precious boy had finally gotten rid of the trailer trash he had chosen, most likely already planning which debutante they wanted him to marry with you out of the way.

“Well,” Joel started as he awkwardly cupped the back of his neck, “I suppose it’s a good thing you chose this place then.”

“Why’s that?,” you questioned as you drifted over to the pile of clothes he had left out.

He shrugged, “I ain’t gonna let ya get lonely over there.”

A small grin spread across your face, growing by the second as you took in the truth of Joel’s promise. Whether you realized it or not at the time, the Millers had been at your side since your very first day in town. It had been mostly the girls of course, one or both of them constantly knocking at your door after they got out of school, but Joel had been there for your two most vulnerable moments. All in all, given the fact that you were now a runaway of two separate towns and families, they were probably the only people you had.

“Thank you Joel,” you said softly.

“Don’t thank me honey, I don’t need it. Just go get dressed before you catch a damn cold,” he grunted, gesturing towards the bathroom so that you could change in privacy.

The clothes that Joel had given you felt just as soft as they looked, although they did sort of swallow you whole once you put them on. The grey sweatpants were so long that you had to fold them at the waist, while the sweater went halfway down your thighs. Joel was just so big and broad, so undeniably beefy that you could barely fill out his loungewear even with your curves providing some extra padding. Not that you minded really, as wearing his clothes allowed his scent to drift into your nostrils each time you moved. After hanging your drenched clothes in the shower, you shook your hair out of the braid Sarah had put in, allowing it to flow freely as you moved back into his room.

Joel was just coming out of the closet when you came back in, a fresh pair of sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt hugging his frame as he swaggered towards you. Given the hefty bulge that he was sporting, you knew that he didn’t have any boxers underneath and you tried hard to ignore it. It was the middle of the night and he was in the sanctity of his own home, he could do whatever the hell he wanted. However, the closer he got, the more obvious the outline of his cock became and you quickly focused all of your attention on making direct eye contact with him instead of staring at the beast that hung from his lower half.

“How do they fit? M’sorry baby, I know that my clothes are a bit big but I couldn’t find anything smaller than that,” Joel apologized.

The word baby bounced around in your mind, hitting all of the pleasure points as you tried to remain calm. Had Joel called you that before? You weren’t sure, but it stuck out compared to the other terms of endearment he had used so far. Sweetheart, honey, darling, those were all terms that you had convinced yourself were just a part of his Southern charm, regardless of the fact that you had never heard him refer to anyone else in that way. But baby? That felt different, almost special, and you wanted more than anything to hear him call you that again.

“Y-Yeah, they fit alright. I’m very cozy,” you said meekly, going weak in the knees from the dazzling smile he sent your way.

“Good now, let’s see if we can scrounge up some leftovers. I don’t know about you but I’m fucking starving,” he said.

Again, Joel didn’t ask for your hand as he had before, he just took it and dragged you down the hallway behind him. He brought you to the living room first, gesturing for you to sit down on the couch before he threw a thick blanket and the remote control at you with the command to put something interesting on.

“I can help you in there though!,” you protested as you tried to get up and follow him, not wanting to leave him with all of the work as you lazed about on his couch.

“You are helping me, now pick something for us to watch while I go get us a snack,” Joel called over his shoulder, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

The rest of the night followed a similar trajectory. Joel came back with plates filled with way too much food and sat at your side, uncaring that you had decided on a trashy reality TV show that you secretly loved. He even asked a few questions about one of the love triangles, laughing along as the contestants started screaming at each other over god knows what during one of the reunion episodes. Sitting on Joel’s couch, stuffing your face as you indulged in one of your guilty pleasure shows felt good, natural even. However, after you had passed off the rest of your meal for him to devour, you made the mistake of looking over to the clock and realized that it was way past time that you said your goodbyes. It was one thirty in the morning and with no more rain falling outside, along with the sleepy yawn that Joel gave once he was finished eating, you knew that it was time to leave.

Ever the gentleman, Joel demanded that he walk you home, ignoring your assurances that you would be fine. He had even offered his own bed first, claiming that he would sleep better on the couch anyways if he knew that you wouldn’t slip on the slick pavement outside, but you shut his ridiculous worries down. At an impasse, the two of you had agreed that you would not stay the night but that he would walk you home, even if it was slightly ridiculous to think that you would run into danger in the thirty seconds it took for you to get to your front porch. It had been a quiet walk, one where neither of you said anything, almost as if you were both too scared to ruin it.

“Are you sure that you’re alright over here honey? It’s gonna be mighty hot tomorrow morning with that AC of your broken and like I said, I really don’t mind sleeping on the couch tonight if it means you’ll get a good sleep. It’d make me feel a whole lot better,” Joel tried one more time as he stood with you on the porch.

“I’ll be fine Joel, it’s just one night and plus,” you added, a bit of mischief in your eye as you reached up and fixed his collar, “I’ve actually got a handsome handyman coming by tomorrow, so it should be fixed in no time.”

A deep crimson crept up the side of his neck, flooding his face with colour as he tried hard not to let your words affect him too much.

“Sounds like a lucky guy,” he murmured, his breath hitching as you took a bold step into his space.

“Hm, we’ll see,” you teased.

Leaning forward, you placed a tiny peck on his cheek, lingering there for a moment to take in a heavy whiff of his scent. The kiss was light, barely a brush of the lips against his scratchy beard, but it seemed to hit him just as hard as any passionate makeout session would.

“Night Joel,” you whispered, giving him a small smile as you slowly moved away.

“Night sweetheart, I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he breathed, hands bunched up at his sides like he wanted to reach out but knew that he shouldn’t.

You smiled, “Hope so, handsome.”

With that, you left Joel on the porch, his cheeks still flushed as you pulled the door closed. Pressing your back against the wood, you couldn’t help the girlish squeal you let out as the day flashed before your eyes. Had all of that really just happened?

Joel Miller was good, so good that you couldn’t believe the day that you had just had. He had thrown a party for you, nobody had ever done that, and he had spent nearly the entire day at your side simply because he wanted to. And afterwards, he had cuddled with you on the swing, letting you rest against him until the rain dragged you both back inside. Not to mention the fact that he had clothed and fed you, unwilling to let you walk back home in a storm despite your vehement reassurances that you were fine. It was as if someone had made the perfect man in a lab for you and you suddenly couldn’t remember why you had ever wanted to keep him at a distance in the first place.

That is, until your phone started to ring. You drifted over to the kitchen, still running on a high as you unplugged your phone and accepted the blocked number. Although it was strange to get any calls in the middle of the night, as you were usually asleep well before midnight, you figured it would be best to answer. Afterall, maybe it was work. With how much it had rained that night, you couldn’t help but worry that the one hundred year old basement of the library had finally flooded, meaning that you would have to go deal with it before the water destroyed the precious microfilms down there.

“Hello?,” you answered, still chipper as ever despite the late hour.

“Oh, so no answer during the day but you fucking pick up in the middle of the night? I’ve been calling you since three o’clock this afternoon, where the hell have you been? Were you out with someone else? Better fucking not have been, you’re still my goddamn wife.”

Fear, pure unadulterated fear rushed through you and turned the blood in your veins into ice. It was him. After more than a month of radio silence, a silence so potent that you had assumed that he had finally let you go, there he was, spitting venom through the phone.

“H-How um - how did you get this number?”

A snort came from the other line, followed by what sounded to be a heavy glass being slammed down on what had to be his mahogany desk. You had heard that sound too many times to not recognize it, even miles and miles away. Each time he had brought you into that dreaded room, the same one you had once been impressed by as a doe eyed nineteen year old that saw it for the first time as his research assistant, it was always to give you some sort of talking to. The talks were always about your behaviour, your outfit, or something stupid you had said. An invite to that room always came with a reprimand from him, drinking vodka on the rocks as he critiqued every inch of your being, before he inevitably expected you to spread your legs for him whenever he felt like it. It made you nauseous to think about it now, about how cruel you had let him be, stupidly believing that even when he toyed with your mind that it was out of love, but that was then.

The nineteen year old he had hired, the same one that he had shaped into his perfect girlfriend at twenty, then his perfect little wife by twenty two, then his trophy piece for events after he got tired of pretending to care, all still lived inside of you. Real life isn’t like the movies, where the woman leaves her ex and suddenly becomes a different person altogether. That girl who just wanted someone to pay attention to her, who desperately needed love, was still there, along with the wife who had held onto something gnarled and twisted in hopes that it would one day make sense again. However, none of those women were under his spell anymore, his ongoing affair had made sure of that. And as broken as every single version of you still was, they were equally just as pissed off.

You cleared your throat, trying to sound more confident as you asked, “Why did you call me?”

“That’s all you have to say to me right now? After weeks of me trying to track your ass down? I am your husband you stupid bitch, watch how you fucking talk to me,” he spat.

You straightened up, rage coiling in your gut and tensing all of the muscles in your back like you were readying for an attack. Husband? He thought that he was still your husband? After all that he had done? You tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

The memory of his face when you caught him with that poor young woman flashed through your mind. He hadn’t looked guilty that he was caught, just disappointed that his little game had ended before he had the chance to truly sink his talons into his next victim, which soon morphed into disgust when you had the audacity to cry in front of him over his betrayal. And later, when you had asked him outright for a divorce? He had been smug, reminding you that you’d never find another man like him, that you were nothing without him, that it was childish to ruin an eight year marriage over something that every husband did from time to time. It was enough to make you want to reach through the phone and strangle him.

“You stopped being my husband the second you started fucking your research assistants behind my back Peter, now what the hell do you want from me?,” you hissed, feeling as though you could breathe fire as you spoke his name aloud for the first time in over a month.

“Oh really? Well, we will fucking see about that you goddamn whore. I bet I wasn’t the only one who stepped out, you just like holding shit over my head,” Peter shot back, but you were too angry to let his insults or ridiculous accusations phase you.

“Listen to me you asshole,” you started, ten years worth of rage seeping into your tone as you spoke through gritted teeth, “You are nothing to me anymore, do you hear me? Nothing.”

“Don’t be a fucking dramatic,” he sighed, almost sounding bored.

“No, you don’t get to say shit like that to me anymore,” you seethed, letting all of the resentment peek out for the first time in ten years, “I don’t give a shit what you have to say, or what your friends think, or especially what your stupid parents want, I am fucking DONE!”

“But -”

“Sign the divorce papers Peter. Or don’t, I really don’t give a fuck anymore. Just know, I’ll be filing for a petition to divorce your ass next week if I don’t get them in my mailbox by Wednesday. You can take the apartment, the money, the cars, everything, I’m out.”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Try me bitch,” you snapped, ending the call before he had the chance to respond.

You whipped the cell phone across the room, too angry to care if it broke as you watched it bounce against the back of the couch and hit the hardwood.

“Asshole,” you hissed to no one in particular, the sound of your voice echoing off of the empty walls.

Peter had taken everything from you, everything. He had taken your twenties, draining you of life, of who you were as a person, before forcing you into being the woman he wanted. And you, so desperate to have someone love you, had let him. You had grit your teeth through the entirety of the marriage, hoping that one day the two of you might return to how it had been during those early days. But being a thirty year old woman with a lifetime of experience gave you some perspective on the matter. Those early days, with all of the gifts and the compliments, had been an elaborate ruse. He had drowned you in affection, knowing that if he got you to love him, you would be easier to bend.

Peter had taken pieces of you, slowly and carefully, so that you didn’t notice until it was too late. He was a political science professor, so you couldn’t major in that, it had to be literature and history. He wanted to stay in Miami so that he could get tenure, meaning that moving out of state after undergraduate for a masters in New York like you had hoped was out of the question. He didn’t like short hair, so yours had to be long. Heels soon replaced all of your more comfortable shoes, as he thought you looked frumpy in flat ones. At formal events, you had to always wear a dress, which meant that every pair of dress pants you owned had to be thrown away. He didn’t want you to be smarter than him so a PhD degree became a pipedream, even though a seat at Notre Dame had once been offered to you. Pieces upon pieces were taken, until you had no idea who you were anymore without him.

As you marched up the stairs in your home, reeling from the call as you walked into the bathroom and started quietly taking your makeup off, you couldn’t stop looking at the person who stared back at you in the mirror. She had more lines on her face since the last time you had seen her, as well as a bit more junk in the trunk, but she was there. For the first time in years, the girl who had her own wants, her own dreams, her own fucking life, was there. She looked exhausted, albeit a bit rough around the edges from her time locked away, but her re-emergence was something remarkable.

Peter had cheated on you. Hell, he had probably been doing it for years, but you didn’t care anymore. That had been the least of the injustices he had perpetrated against you anyways. It was the manipulation that had been the worst thing, the tactics he had used to force you into a life that was meant to nurture only him being so devious that you had happily skipped towards your cell and helped him throw away the key. But his last offense had shown you the light. It had ended up being the exact thing you needed to tear you from your prison cell and shove you back into the real world again, a world that didn’t revolve around him. It didn’t matter if Peter didn’t sign the divorce papers, or if he took every single thing you owned in court, you would be fine because at the very least it would mean that you would never have to see him again.

So, as you finished up your nightly routine, letting all thoughts of your previous life go down the drain with your face wash and toothpaste, you put Peter to rest. There would be a time to think about him, perhaps even dissect the damage he had done to you in greater detail when you met with the attorney, but it was not the time for such thoughts. Absolutely drained from the day, you crawled into bed, pulling the hem of Joel’s sweater up to your nose so that you could take a hit of his delicious scent. Your ex, wherever he was and whoever he was with, could go fuck himself. You had a home, a job you loved, and a handsome man that had a crush on you, a man that you knew would never say any of the shit that your ex had to you even if he was upset. Peter didn’t own you anymore and he never really had, you were free.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfic #angst #comfort #no outbreak!joel miller #no outbreak au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x female reader #Soft!Joel #soft!joel miller #joel miller fluff

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variousqueerthings · 2 years ago

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A striking demonstration comes from research investigating the risks people perceive from technological, lifestyle, and environmental hazards (like nuclear power, smoking, and ozone depletion). These studies routinely find that women perceive higher risks to themselves, family, and society from such hazards.

[...] Flynn and colleagues then subdivided the sample by ethnicity as well as sex, and discovered that one subgroup stood out from all the rest. Society seemed a significantly safer place to white males than it did to all other groups, including nonwhite men.

[...] Flynn and colleagues then established that it was a particular subset of white males who were particularly cavalier about risks: those who, in response to the social justice movement’s currently fashionable suggestion to “check your privilege,” would take significantly longer than others to complete the task. These men were well educated, rich, and politically conservative, as well as more trusting of institutions and authorities, and opposed to a “power to the people” view of the world. A number of studies have now replicated this socalled “white male effect” with other large U.S. samples, and the research points to it being “not so much a ‘white male effect’ as a ‘white hierarchical and individualistic male effect.’”

[...]

Interestingly, a recent study conducted in the more socially egalitarian and gender-equal Sweden failed to find the “white male effect.” This national survey of nearly fifteen hundred households found that, all else being equal—and in stark contrast with the U.S. data—Swedish men and women had very similar perceptions of lifestyle, environmental, technological, health, and social risks. 36 The survey found instead just a “white effect,” with people from foreign backgrounds, who are subject to social disenfranchisement and discrimination, perceiving risks as higher than did native Swedes

- Testosterone Rex, Cordelia Fine

(bolded by me)

#cordelia fine #testosterone rex #i know some people in the tags are calling her a terf #but a. i cannot find any evidence of that (in fact she seems openly pro-trans)#and b. please do not throw the baby out with the bathwater #this is a very well-sourced text + i'd argue she's very much staying within her lane of research #can one go one further with all of this and point out ex. in this section #that it's not just dependent on race and sex but also (cis)gender #or that there being no distinct traits that one can say belong purely to men or women belongs within a trans politics #or that testosterone as an argument for either *men are all more powerful* or *men are inherently more evil* is considered bioessentialism #etcetcetc. yeh -- but that's not what this exact text is for #i am glad i read it after frans de waal because i think some of the things i was struggling within in his text #(that he would occasionally bring up a queer philosophical and/or political quote out of context without having the prerequisite #academic background -- or indeed quite the will -- to go into it in a wider context -- and he would therefore imo WEAKEN #his arguments accidentally by misrepresenting esp what trans people were/are saying about gender roles when actually #we're very much on the same *side* so to speak)#is exactly what she's doing the opposite of in her text -- she's sticking to what she knows #(this whole book is basically going *both bioessentialism and genderessentialism makes no sense we need to be more complex*)#if she DOES *reveal* herself as transphobic down the line i would be surprised but i would also still value this book/delusions of gender #im highlighting this moment in the book but she also doesn't go very deeply into intersectional politics beyond this point #whether that is a bug or a feature is up to you -- mentioning trans people and disabled people at this point might have been a good idea #simply as a way of highlighting that there are even more nuances to consider than sex race ethnicity #because a lot of her argument is *things are more complicated than the surface makes it seem*#however: might be worthwhile reading some trans and disabled writers for that focus -- those texts do exist #ramblerambleramble

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anantaru · 10 months ago

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HSR + HOT THINGS HE DOES WHILE DOING IT

— ꒰ including ꒱ — aventurine, dr ratio, sunday, boothill x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, dom hsr characters, oral (fem! receiving) & fingering, established relationship, hitting it raw, dirty talk, tit play + biting & marking, prone bone ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ

— ꒰ AVENTURINE ꒱ + shamelessly moans into your ears

his moans have that kind of power that attack you with the lightest bit of touch but rumble inside your nerves with an utmost generosity that continued to burn an everlasting need into the rigid twist of your belly. he flips you over to your stomach and kneads the handful of flesh on your ass, greedily as his hands retreat— now, he uses his hand to keep your hips sealed against his aching half, while the other was positioned next to your head to refrain his weight from leaning and crushing against you.

aventurine's mouth was hot against your ear, too hot, in fact, that your body manifests swells of electric jumps on your limbs and muscles, your blood thrumming as you're audibly hissing out petulant sobs through your slacked jaw.

"tell me how it feels, yeah?" he sighs between gritted teeth, savoring the anticipation as his eyes squeeze shut, hips aligned and drawing his oozy tip against your entrance before pressing into your hole.

"ugh, fuck—" he grunts, "you'll mess me up today, hm?" as he moans deeply into your ear, so grateful to you as you shakily exhale through your mouth, your hole melting around his thick shaft before he inches further through your plushy walls.

aventurine was unashamed of gasping out those lecherous noises for you, brazen to the point where he's telling you how you feel as you squeeze him and cloud his mind with your milking compression indulging in him, "aah— you feel so nice, so soft, i'm losing my mind," he cheekily laughs between his whines, feeling elevated.

he kisses your neck as you sob, your walls feeling all of him inside as you exhale between a shaken embrace— but it's telling how much it turned you on when your boyfriend was this vocal with the pleasure you caused on him, his tongue darting across your neck before he loudly groans into the skin, your hole tensing and letting go, tensing and letting go, adding pressure again.

your eyes roll back as he grinds himself in you, always holding against your ass to fondle with the skin as he repeatedly pressures and pulls his cock through your creamy hole, entering all his inches inside an eager cuddle.

the sensation of having him claim your body in such way made your stomach do flips and tumbles, and the hums into your ear only multiplied the ways you responded to him with fizzy tears pulling at your lashes. right there, aventurine spills his brazen moans right against your ear, shamelessly between affectionate words of love, sending your inmost nerves into hard overdrive.

— ꒰ DR RATIO ꒱ + pulls your face to him before you climax

before he advances forward to his original plan, veritas will make you feel like you're mounting off pleasure and ah, your silhouette was charming to look at, no? you're so sweet when you hide your face from him. yet he doesn't understand why you're so embarrassed to show your flustered state? regardless, he loves when you do that, hiding the real taste, doesn't matter if he's suckling on your clit or watching how you suck him off, you're always warding off his enticing gaze.

the tantalizing signs of your embarrassment were enough for dr ratio to focus on all the different regions of your body— not only that, but he inspects your breathing and how it shudders through you, not to mention how it hitches when he grinds into your cunt.

with that, he can determine that you prefer it faster, although mixed in with a couple slow grinds once he's sheathed himself fully inside. a combination of both can do a lot more, and channeling it into one was his speciality. you're making it just that easy for him.

you wonder why? well, it's because you make everything look so sexy that it's so easy to figure you out.

after finding the perfect tempo for the both of you, your warmth clamps around him before losing yourself in each precise, calculated push of his hips overloading from the feeling of being close to you, or ah, being one with you, correct? it's how you're throbbing and creaming his entire base full that he realizes you're right there, feeling an upcoming wave of pleasure making itself visible.

"i'm cumming, i'm, aah, fuck," you moan beneath his hypnotizing pair of eyes as his hips rush through you, spreading your poor, little cunt apart as your hole flexes around his shaft. veritas knew he had to be quick with it, so after hearing you sob and wince, he draws himself off your neck and cups your face roughly, casting his eyes on you.

the man was gorgeous and he knew it, much to your dismay— he could also be a total idiot about how annoyingly handsome he was and that he always knew how to use it to his benefit— although in this moment, his face was soused in his sweat, messed up around his forehead and covered with fizzling lust for you.

a strangled cry rips from your throat and vibrates through his eardrums as your body vividly shakes under him. you're whimpering at the embarrassment of having him look at you while he's forcing the eye contact with his hand bending around the softness of your cheek.

you had no idea how much of a difference it made to look at him and become so, vulnerable.

you squirm under his searing silhouette, crying out the most beautiful sounds as your sore hole twitching around the base, utterly spent as veritas only admires the glow in your eyes, nothing more and nothing else.

the two of you exhale shakily in your afterglow, wet skin clinging to the sheet and relishing in its dirtiness.

— ꒰ SUNDAY ꒱ + kisses your clit before going down on you

he holds himself back, he needs to, because fighting the urge to bury his face where you needed him the most was always worth it— before he latches on your clit, he uses his rough thumbs to push the plushy skin protecting your clit aside to plant his plump lips over it, ghosting his mouth on top as he's almost successful enough to distract you from two digits bumping against your weeping hole.

sunday adjusts his face on your pussy before planting a wet kiss on your clit, his lusting eyes turning dark in the dark light as he roams two fingers inside your cloying hole, "give it to me, i know you can do it," he takes each necessary step to make you arch your back and gush all over him— your bothered silhouette making his cock ache and balls throb in his boxers.

his digits ascend over the slopes of your velvet walls as he presses delirious sensations on your cunt before spitting on your pussy repeatedly, messily grinning against your folds when you wince to every single droplet of his saliva hitting your cunt.

what doesn't come as a surprise is that sunday likes being messy with it— he needs to feel the wetness, the sheer contact of a hot tongue on your throbbing skin that he asks himself, can you feel it too? oh silly, of course you can, there was no room for debate by how you're reacting to it.

he swallows your arousal pooling on his tongue as he laps at your clit while his fingers graze along the sponginess of your walls, your pussy holding and clenching around the two digits. your eyes were half lidded, almost closed, your body so responsive that your cunt pulses at nothing but the tip of his tongue nudging into your clit.

"so obedient you are, my dear," he rasps before your fingers slope around the loose strands of his hair to press him into your heat, your back arching and your cunt spasming as you ride his face.

sunday hums happily, satiated, "what a good girl you are," he praises you enlaced in a wanton voice, thrusting his fingers roughly as you cum inside a silent cry.

— ꒰ BOOTHILL ꒱ + teases you with his teeth

your saccharine alike face prompts a menacing grin from him as he settles you on his lap before tilting your head a little— his eyes drizzling into the space on your neck and how he could feel your heart beat from that precious spot. boothill tests the waters, his insatiable hunger for you being so painful as he sighs out excitedly. he grazes into your neck and drags the sharp edges through your sensitive skin— always holding you on his waist with one hand wrapped around while the other toyed with your soft tits.

boothill has everything under his control, okay? you needn't worry— in fact, he always tells you to not torment yourself when all you had to do was trust him with your pleasure.

a smile stretches across his face as he brazenly flattens his tongue against your neck, feeling your pulse thud on the wet muscle before squeezing your tits to mess up your focus. you cling to his strong shoulders as you arch your back when he rolls a nipple between his digits, "you like that, don't you?" he drawls, your moan bending when he pinches your tit again.

your eyes roll back, and ugh, it feels so good, his rough yet precise touches were capable to induce waves of sparks from your breasts to all the way down, hitting your aching pussy. you're humping against his thigh and drool, more so stain your panties with your slick. the swell of his bulge was heavily pressing against your clothed folds, and boothill knew it wouldn't take long until you'll beg him to fuck you.

alongside those mesmerizing touches that marked up your breasts, the man took his time and acted unhurriedly as he sucks on your neck, shielding his eyes as he dips his head right above your collarbones. your skin mists with drops of his saliva as you find his hair beneath your hands, tugging slightly at his strands.

boothill moans into your neck, the vibrations setting a fire on your wet core, "let me consume you..." you hear him murmur playfully, his sharp fangs tauntingly pressing into your neck as you arch your back, "pretty, mh, you're so good, so lovely, so pretty, and ugh," as he stammers, his tongue blazing wildly across the pulsing spot that he's bitten, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he calls your name.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #boothill x reader #aventurine x reader #Sunday x reader #dr ratio x reader #boothill smut #aventurine smut #dr ratio smut #sunday smut #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #Sunday x you #aventurine x you #dr ratio x you #boothill x you #hsr drabbles

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peachsukii · 3 months ago

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— emergency contact

it’s been two years since you’ve seen your ex-boyfriend, and didn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. a nasty villain fight lands you in the hospital during an overnight patrol and leaves you unable to tell the doctors who to call in your dazed state.

✮ content. late 20s. ex-boyfriend bakugo, hospitalization, sappy confessions & second chances. distance makes the heart grow fonder kind of deal.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

Sharp, shooting pain down your back and a desperate cry from your partner ⎯ that was the only thing you remember from the last…four hours? Time is becoming illusive at this point, blending together with how fast everything unraveled around you.

Were you injured on patrol? Did that villain slip through your fingers and escape? Where was your partner in all this chaos?

“Doctor, she’s waking up,” you hear in the distance, muffled but clear enough to understand. A nurse walks into your blurred vision, a soft smile on her lips. “Hi hon, you’re in the hospital. We’re taking you to your room now, hang tight.”

All you can manage to do is nod in acknowledgement, the world spinning on its axis and making you extremely dizzy. Your eyes fall closed, a hazy sleep welcoming you in seconds.

When you wake next, you're not quite sure how much time has passed. The room sits in darkness, the only sources of light coming from the moon outside the window and the various machines chirping around you. There's a static in your head, as if you're stuck on a radio frequency that hasn't been adjusted to the correct channel. Even with all the noise in your head, a familiar voice can be heard outside in the hallway, one you'd never mistake for anyone else.

"It's late," a nurse says, presumably trying to convince him to go home. "Are you sure you want to stay? We can try her other contacts again in a few hours."

"M'sure. Do I need'ta sign in or whatever?"

"No, that's alright. I'll notate it on her chart and let the front desk know. I'll be back in a bit and we can talk more about treatment."

The door slides open to prove you're not imagining things ⎯ your ex isn't a manifestation of your delirious state. Bakugo's standing in the dim light of the hallway, tip toeing inside and shutting the door as quietly as possible. When his eyes fall upon your hospital bed, he notices that you're awake and sighs. "Been awhile."

You don't have the energy to do this dance with him, to go back and forth with lightheartedness like old times. "Why are you here?"

His lips press into a straight line, jaw clenched tight as he seems to silently ask himself the same question. He makes his way over to the bed, taking a seat at the edge by your feet. "I'm still one of your emergency contacts in your hero file."

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. There's no way you haven't updated your database profile in two years...right? Bakugo catches onto your confusion and explains before you have a chance to press him further on the matter. "M'the only one who answered."

What time was it, anyways? Your eyes bounce around the room swiftly to find a wall clock. You squint a bit to read it, finally making out the numbers. 4:30...am?

"What did they call you for?" you yawn, rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes. "I don't even know what happened."

He takes a deep breath as a large hand finds your thigh, resting atop the thin blanket. His touch makes you want to melt into a puddle, memories of your past relationship coming back in waves.

"They didn't tell me much, only that it was life or death. Thankfully, your ass chose life." He shakes his head, a quiet huff escaping him. "Somethin' about a villain's poison quirk. Ya got hit in the spine and it paralyzed you temporarily, an' you fell from someplace high up. Your partner caught ya and the paramedics got to you just in time."

Oh. Well, that explains the pain from earlier.

"But why did you answer their call, Baku⎯" you cut yourself off to correct his name as it leaves your lips. "Katsuki?"

"I'm not heartless, just 'cause we haven't talked in ages doesn't mean I don't care about ya."

You shift in your bed a bit, eyes gravitating toward the window to avoid his gaze. Truth be told, you two ended on decent terms and not maliciously. Wrong place, wrong time...at least, that's what you two chalked it up to. You were both too busy with hero work, too absent from each other's lives to properly be a couple. After a year, you convinced yourself that you were satisfied watching him from afar, catching brief glimpses of his life through interviews and news reports. That was your excuse, a cowardly way to keep him out of reach and prevent you, and him, from getting distracted.

"Hey." Bakugo's fingers squeeze your thigh to recollect your attention, the blanket crumpling under his palm. You're terrified to look at him, knowing full well that in your battered state, you'll crumble like stone if he says anything remotely sweet. Those vermillion eyes of his always had a way of making you weak ⎯ soft. "I was thinkin' on my way over here that I should'a called ya, reached out to keep in touch. M'sorry for not doin' that."

"It's...fine," you stammer out, a shaky hand coming up to wave off his concern. "We don't have to talk about that now."

"I don't wanna only talk to you when you're hurt, or worse..." he trails off, screwing his eyes shut to avoid the dread lingering in his chest. "Look. What m'gettin' at is you scared the shit outta me, and it made me realize that I've got a lot to say after all these years."

Oh boy, you brace yourself for impact, expecting the explosive nature to come pouring out any second. But, it never comes.

Before you could stop him, Bakugo's on his feet and leaning over the bed, arms slung around your shoulders to pull you close. A strange but familiar veil of comfort drapes over you in the moment, pulling on your heartstrings. Your eyes begin to sting when the words he whispers finally reach your ears. "M'done usin' hero work as an excuse to avoid you. I wanna talk this shit out...when you're ready. I'd love to make ya dinner again."

You can't help but let out a breathless laugh, arms finally coming up to return his hug. "Only if you promise to make your special katsudon. I've been craving it for weeks."

He chuckles over your shoulder, squeezing you a bit tighter in response. "Deal."

Who knew that a villain was what you two needed to face your fears, to finally admit that the spark was never smothered into nothingness. And this time, something tells you that you'll both make damn sure it stays ablaze.

happy softie sunday!! I know it's been awhile since I've written one. hope you don't mind some baku-sap :)

✮ network. @pixelcafe-network

✮ tags. @slayfics @maddietries @starieqq

@liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague

@napbatata @Yoyolovesdaiki @kirishimaeijiromyman

@strwbrrykthv @awkwardchick87 @stunies @sakufilm

#reis softie sundays #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #soft bakugou #bakugo fluff #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia fluff

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jayktoralldaylong · 17 days ago

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One of my favourite things about Arcane is that all the couples can be read as toxic, which is GREAT.

I'm tired of people bringing morality debates into dark media. Let dark media be fucking dark. You guys wouldn't survive a day in the TMA fandom, needing everyone to be as good as gold. How are they going to make for enjoyable complex characters if they're not morally grey. In fact, I wish there'd been more expansion on just how morally black they can become!

"CaitVi is so toxic" According to lesbian statistics, that sounds just about accurate. 💀 Heck, I wish Caitlyn had done more (Not really, but it would have been nice to further explore the darkness in her heart). Isn't it adorable how she immediately folded as soon as Vi called her cupcake? Caitlyn's like one of those villains that will consistently do the most....until it comes to someone else hurting her girlfriend. The only one allowed to hurt her girlfriend is her. 💀

Then let's talk about Vi. Someone pointed out how Vi never cared about Zaun's independence in the first place and many people yelled that they were wrong. But actually, they were right. Vi never wanted Zaun. Zaun was Silco's dream, and Jinx inherited that dream cause Silco would never shut up about it. Vi wanted Piltover to take responsibility for all the shit they allowed to happen in the Undercity. That's a part of the reason she joined up with Caitlyn in the first place. Let's not forget she wasn't dissuaded when she dragged Jayce down to fight with her and he killed a child. Children been dying, it's been her whole life. Someone needed to do something about it, and Zaun would have just isolated the people from all the privileges that Piltover SHOULD have been providing for them. Some people just can't accept that Independence cannot in fact solve every problem, and sometimes independence is colonisers running away from the responsibility of fixing the mess that they started in the first place.

Besides, we all know Vi joined up with the Enforcers because "I feel like I am worthless if I can't be of service." She'd already run out of family members to serve, Caitlyn was the next best thing. She's just like Jayce.

And speaking of Jayce, let's talk about his violent levels of codependency with anyone who'll give him attention. People LOOOOVE to talk about Mel, but it's there with Viktor too. When bro wasn't basing his worth on his inventions, he was centering it around Viktor.

Viktor who decided at some point in his life that he would not LIVE without Jayce. He was fine dying without him, but living without him was unacceptable. Oh how healthy. 🙄😂 Viktor be the kind of toxic ex to threaten divorce 500 times over, then burn the world when you actually leave him. Jayce is no better cause he's the kind of guy to keep going back to his toxic Ex.

Yes, Mel is manipulative. That's what I love about her. How are you guys failing to give this woman the praise of being an outsider in Piltover, but running their entire council. 💀 Girl raises her hand once and the whole government starts spinning. She was the best sugar mummy Jayce and Viktor could ever ask for. She kept the whole city running. Literally the entire of Piltover dancing on her palm. And yes she manipulated Jayce but let's not forget she thought that was a love language. 💀 You wanna be mad at someone, be mad at Ambessa for raising her that way.

I also don't think it's fair to blame her for the Undercity situation, she's not native. Monkey see, monkey do, and not a single one of those Council members actually cared about the situation down there, it was deplorable. 💀 Jayce did way more in his two weeks as Councillor than any of those drug pushing, money laundering, Piltovian heads of government.

And that just covers MelJayVik, we don't even need to get fully into TimeBomb, cause we know what's wrong there. 💀 Surely we have not forgotten the many teammates Jinx has killed, but making sure to never kill Ekko cause that's her man. Ekko has a lot to unpack, like how his consistent and unwavering love for Jinx is an indication of a lot of doors he might not be ready to open. I know they dynamics go crazy and I love to see it.

Ambessa and Sevika are a crack ship but I'm sure we all know bedroom dynamics go crazy with Mrs. Warlord and Miss Liberation. I love it when characters clash in a toxic heap. It's insane and should be explored.

Quit saintifying my toxic ships with your woke morality debates. If you want everyone to be sunshine and rainbows then you should be watching literally anything else. 💀 "It's not healthy." GOOD, I like it that way. 💀 Angst, spice and trauma are the recipe for a plethora of explorative fanfiction. Any of their dynamics can be taken in any toxic direction and I want that EXPLORED.

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ervotica · 7 months ago

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milf!reader fucking coach!patrick because she wants her son to get accepted into his tennis program and they’re old friend who used to fuck in college but she despises him but she’ll do anything for her son👀

warnings; smut, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), cum eating, a smidge of foot stuff if you squint, hate sex, exes (ish) to lovers (ish)

a/n; your honor i need him actually

imagining him wolf-whistling at you when you seek him out on the courts, racket strapped over your shoulder, hand limply holding a basket of tennis balls as you watch him practice his serving, trying and failing not to ogle his entire body through his clothes.

a sweat soaked tank top, slick and transparent. the smell of musk and man and tennis. thick corded thighs dusted with dark hair as he moves fluidly, as though the racket is an extension of himself. a thick bulge in his shorts that, no matter how much you hate him, you want to have your mouth on.

he’s all fire and passion and heat, and you know from experience that trait rings true in all areas of his life.

“so, you’re a milf now,” he drawls, beckoning you closer with a tip of his chin. your mouth is dry, chest so hollow it feels like you’re about to crumble from the inside out.

you roll your eyes, hoping to look more confident than you feel, taking place on the other side of the net.

“and you’re still a prick. your point?”

“why are you here?” he presses, tossing the ball up and catching it with a skilled ease that has your stomach flipping.

“how do i guarantee my son a place in your tennis program?” the words feel heavy on your tongue, struggling not to curl your lips into a sneer at the sight of his smug expression.

“you think i’m a prick but you want me to teach your son?”

“i think you’re a prick but i know you’re good at tennis. and you’re a good teacher. and i want him to be good.” his brow quirks. at least you’re honest.

he discards the tennis ball behind him and crosses the distance between you, long legs coming up to step over the net.

“i can think of a few things.”

that’s how you find yourself at his place, legs slung over his shoulders. it’s wet and dirty, each rock of his hips squelching as he feeds you his cock into your needy cunt inch by inch.

“yeah, know this pussy missed me, baby,” he rasps, pinching at your twitching clit. his throat works around a thick swallow, lips parted in a groan when you clench your cunt round him, shifting your hips upward to allow him to sink further into the wet clutch of you.

“stop talking to my pussy, you freak,” you hiss, quickly silenced as he flattens his thumb over your swollen bud, rolling it in tight circles until you’re creaming round him, wailing with the sheer force of your orgasm

he lifts your ankle, turning his flushed face to mouth at the smooth skin there, huffing hot air against the sole of your foot that has you squirming.

there are some perks to fucking patrick zweig.

he knows every inch of your body, knows what makes you tick and which buttons to press to keep you babbling nonsensical filth beneath him. knows your pussy, knows how to fuck you until you cry.

you’re clinging to his shoulders, almost drawing blood as you dig your knuckles further into that skin, because you know him just as well. know that this gets him going, keeps him rutting into you with that fervour that - despite yourself, despite hating him - you’ve missed so desperately.

because despite hating patrick zweig, no one fucks you like he does.

when he cums it’s in excess, spurt after spurt of it until you’re plugged full and it’s flooding you, dripping out of your spasming hole and gathering over your furled asshole. he gathers some of it with two fingers, feeds it into your eager mouth.

“i’m sure we can work something out about those tennis lessons, sweets.” and he grins, all teeth. the look should have you balking, send you running, but you find yourself drawn to it, clinging to the familiarity of him.

you’re caught in his honey trap once again, and he has no plans of letting you get away this time.

because you both know, no matter how much you claim to hate him, he’s the best sex you’ve ever had.

and he’s sure he can make you love him. just with a little time.

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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

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seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #stranger things x you #eddie munson fanfic

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coffee-and-geto · 2 months ago

Text

“WHO YOU GONNA CALL? CURSEHUNTER!”

“That’ll cost you 33,000 yens, ma’am.” “What?!” “Unless you offer other methods of payment. I’m flexible by nature, though.”

pairing: curse hunter! toji fushiguro x f!reader | kinkoctober m.list

summary: for halloween, you and your group of friends — where your boyfriend has taken a break from your relationship — decide to spend the evening in an old mansion turned into a hotel. with a rather strange staff and weird things going on in the mansion, everything leads you to end up calling a specialist to the situation — toji, the curse hunter for your evening can do his job, sure, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let you off the hook so easily when you can’t afford him…

warnings: +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, AU with curses, haunted house, (slight) angst, cheating because the reader has an (ex) boyfriend but he’s a cheater, utahime makes an appearance, sex (p in v), squirting, oral (f! receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, fingering (f! receiving), overstimulation, lot of teasing, doggy + missionary positions, size kink.

wc: 5,963

“Wow!”

“It’s a really scary décor!” comments one of your friends, covering her mouth as her jaw drops in surprise.

“Same for the staff,” you add with a frown, glancing around at the spooky theme that’s everywhere—the walls, the bedrooms, even the kitchen and living room. But you can’t ignore how strange the staff in the lobby were when you all checked in for your rooms.

“Don’t be silly, it’s all part of the ambiance.” Your boyfriend nudges you playfully with his elbow, flashing his usual smirk, but this time it doesn’t work. You’re so tired of him.

“And she’s right,” snaps Utahime, who links her arm with yours to pull you further away from the annoying duo made up of one of your friends and your boyfriend. “But of course, coming from you…” She scrunches her nose, looking annoyed.

You sigh. “It’s fine, Hime, I can handle it—”

“This jerk needs a scare big enough to make him crap his pants, believe me,” she interrupts, gently tugging you along as she takes the lead to find your bedroom. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

You glance back toward the rooms of the others, including your boyfriend, then look forward with a disappointed pout. His attention should be on you, not anyone else—it should be shining like a star for you, not for some friend.

“Do you think the story about this manor is true?” you whisper when Utahime finally finds room 311-1.

She shakes her head but hurries to unlock the door, casting nervous glances at the dim hallway lights, which are anything but reassuring. “The point is to get us in the mood, obviously, but the staff went a bit too hard with the costumes…”

Finally, you both step into the room, where the soft, victorian decor makes your friend sigh with relief.

“At least the room itself isn’t weird,” she laughs, relaxing a little.

You smile faintly, taking in the shared bedroom. “Yeah, not too bad.”

In the next hour, the two of you have fun picking apart the manor’s ambiance, spinning wild theories about the place. Your mood lifts again, and since you already had dinner on the way here, at least you don’t have to worry about the creepy staff involving you in some haunted-house-style horror event.

Or worse, poisoning you.

But what a ridiculous idea, right?

There’s no reason for that. No one would do that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come.

~~~~

Why always you?

Of course. Your brain had to convince you, “No danger; they haven’t announced a Halloween night event yet!”

“You will be paired up in twos by random draw,” a staff member dressed as the Joker announces cheerfully, handing out small slips of paper with numbers and a map that looks much like a pirate’s treasure map, but is actually the hotel floor plan. “When you enter the first room — different for each pair — you’ll find an object and a riddle that will indicate which room is next.”

He bounces slightly in front of the reception desk, nearly giddy with excitement, which is unsettling given the blood-red lines around the corners of his mouth.

“This means that whoever finds the most hidden spots will win a prize at the end of the night,” he concludes, looking over your group one by one. “But be careful — this mansion has a spooky history, and some ghosts may come to visit!” He laughs, joined by a few others.

As you examine your number, you look around for your boyfriend, hoping to have drawn the same number so you can spend some time with him despite the break he recently put on your relationship. But no.

One of your friends — Nami, the one who’d commented on the decor — is already giggling beside him, paying no attention to you or the boundaries she’s crossing with her little “friendly” touches.

You inhale deeply, trying to ignore the sharp sting of jealousy. Just then, Utahime leans over your shoulder, checking your number. “Hey, looks like we’re together!”

You let a smile spread over your face and head with her to the first floor, where the first prize is hidden.

“I hope they didn’t hire any actors to scare us, or I might just hurt someone,” you mutter darkly, the dim lighting and ornate wallpaper in the hallways sending a chill down your spine.

“Same,” Utahime chuckles softly, pulling out a small flashlight. She switches it on and shines it ahead. “This should help, right? Check the map.”

You do, studying the hallway details on the paper to get your bearings. “Yeah, we’re close to room 456,” you say, looking up.

In a long walk that feels like it stretches out forever, Utahime and you move at the same steady pace, maintaining a comfortable distance, wrapped in silence as though no one else is on any floor.

“We’re here,” you announce as Utahime shines her light on the brass plaque for room 456.

You open the door carefully, flicking on the light, and catch a vague movement out of the corner of your eye near the edge of the sitting area. You snap your head in that direction, but there’s nothing.

“Did they set up special effects?” you wonder aloud.

“Probably,” Utahime reassures you, heading towards a bookshelf where a velvet-covered box with emerald and gold accents catches her eye. She grabs it, opening it to find a slip of parchment and a key.

You take a more careful look around the room, inspecting every corner, and almost miss what Utahime has found until she calls out to you.

“Next room, here we come!” she says happily.

~~~~

“Is it just me, or have we been walking for a while?” you remark after several minutes of silence, back in the hallway but on the second floor this time.

“Yeah, feels like it.” Utahime swings her flashlight around, lighting up the walls, curtains, and carpet in the dimly lit halls. It’s as if the already faint lights were growing even weaker.

BANG!

Both of you jump, turning in unison towards the unknown source of the noise.

“Fuck,” Utahime curses, “them and their damn effects.”

You exhale a shaky breath meant to calm your still-racing heart, but the cold breath on the back of your neck isn’t helping. “Utahime, is that you—” You turn to look at your friend, who’s cautiously moving closer to you, when a piercing female scream echoes throughout the hotel.

“Can we cancel this night?” Utahime doesn’t wait for your answer, grabbing your arm and dragging you into a frantic sprint down the corridors, where more and more doors seem to open and close on their own.

Then, suddenly, something grabs you by the arm, pulling you into the darkness.

When you finally open your eyes, you’re half-sprawled on the floor in partial darkness, with only the faint candlelight the hotel keeps in the eerie corridors as a precaution. You stand up immediately, pulling out your phone in an attempt to send a message to your friends’ group chat, but no one is active.

You then try to call reception, your eyes scanning an environment that no longer feels amusing in the slightest. This has to be part of the game.

Doesn’t it?

But after several rings, no one picks up.

“Goddamnit,” you mutter.

You resign yourself to finding a door, a room, or anything that could help you call the police or figure out a way to avoid getting caught by a real ghost in this creepy manor.

Your gaze scans the walls, your phone’s light barely illuminating the darkest corners due to its low battery. And the only thing that stands out is a notice pinned to the wall that has you scrambling to get your phone out again.

IN CASE OF EMERGENCY DURING THE HALLOWEEN HUNT, IF THE RECEPTION DOESN’T RESPOND, CALL THIS NUMBER:

You dial it, barely caring who it might reach given the seriousness of your situation.

After the second ring, someone picks up, their tone filled with mocking amusement and a hint of nonchalance:

“Hello?”

You’re saved.

~~~~

Back to square one — you’re anything but saved.

“This is the emergency response?” you spit out, feeling lost and baffled as you stand before a man approaching you about twenty minutes after a more-than-frustrating phone call.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with toned muscles and an arrogance that seeps from every pore of his skin.

“Toji Fushiguro, at your service, ma’am,” he replies sarcastically, giving a slight bow, a smug smile stretching the scar across his mouth.

“And you are…?”

“A curse hunter — don’t ask too many questions, I’m used to it,” he cuts you off, striding past without a glance. “Just follow me.”

You stand there, speechless, frozen to see if he’ll react, but he just keeps whistling and walking.

You were in deep trouble.

Reluctantly, you catch up, glaring at him coldly as he gives you a quick glance. “Do you have the money?”

“That’s really all you care about?” you retort bitterly. “Isn’t the hotel supposed to cover emergencies like this? We’re all lost, and—”

“Careful!!” Toji pushes you against the wall, pulling out a unique sword with a red and gold hilt and slashing it sharply through the air.

Nothing seems to have been hit at the moment, but the distinct sound of the slice is unmistakable.

“So, it wasn’t a joke when they said there were ghosts?”

“Curses,” he corrects, sheathing his weapon. He surveys the rest of the hallway and looks up at the ceiling. “They’re on the floor above.”

Several minutes later, you’re there, with high-pitched screams filling the air; among them, you recognize Utahime’s and some of your other friends. You start to rush to her, but Toji grabs you by the waist.

“Hold up!” he tuts, looking a bit more serious. “The lady stays here.”

“But my friend is in there!” you protest, struggling to break free.

“What a little firebrand!” Toji grumbles, pinning you against the wall. His warm breath brushes your face, and you hold back the urge to kick him. When he breathes in to speak, your intoxicating scent fills his nose. “I’m the pro here, got it? I’ll save your friend, and then we’ll talk about the price.” He releases you when you hold his gaze firmly enough to make him trust you.

“If anything happens to her, I’ll make you eat every one of your damn curses, okay?”

He snorts before disappearing down the corridor.

In the next hour, all the curses are quickly neutralized — even if no one actually sees them, their heavy, lingering “presence” was enough to give away what was happening.

“Most people went back to their rooms,” Toji informs you, guiding you toward your floor.

“That was fast.”

“As usual,” he sighs, hands in his pockets.

“Why isn’t the staff responding?” you ask, feeling more reassured and open to conversation now.

“It’s a real haunted manor, so they know that when you play, you just risk being bugged by the curses, nothing more.” He shrugs, pulling out his phone to check the time, and you mentally slap yourself for noticing how his forearm muscles flex slightly. “Plus those fuckers are never there on time to pay me, even though they require my services.”

“Oh, right, your payment…” You avert your eyes, walking past your room without entering. Maybe it’s best to go look for the staff…right?

“I only take cash,” Toji says, putting his phone away. “And I charge by the half-hour.”

You blink, swallowing nervously because you know you lied earlier on the phone when he told you the amount he typically earns per job.

“…Yeah?”

He chuckles softly, stopping to face you, while you do the same. Up close, he’s breathtaking — his emerald-green eyes, sharply defined jaw, his whole form could have been sculpted from ice.

“That’ll cost you 33,000 yens, ma’am.”

“What?!”

“Unless you’re offering alternative methods of payment. I’m flexible, by nature,” he adds ironically.

Your face falls, and you try to stay calm, knowing you’re in real trouble if he realizes you barely have enough for a can of soda.

“Great, so, I’m going to get paid by a pretty lady, huh?” he whispers, leaning in dangerously close until your back gently hits the wall.

“Can’t you lower the price?” you ask, slightly flustered, forcing a smile to hide the panic clutching at your insides. “Maybe my friends and I can work something out to pay you.”

“But it’s the one who calls who pays,” Toji coos softly, lifting a hand to play with a strand of your hair. “They didn’t ask for anything.”

“But they were saved,” you insist, feeling like a pleading child trying to avoid punishment.

Toji gently shakes his head, a barely-there smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t you have a boyfriend? Maybe he’ll take care of it, then.”

“Yes, but…” You feel a chill at the mention of your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen since the start of the evening, “we need to find him. He’s probably asleep.”

“Describe him to me, I’ll tell you if he’s around,” Toji murmurs, and his words feel like a subtle threat as you describe him. His brow furrows. “You sure?”

“Yes, why?” Suddenly, your heart starts pounding faster.

What’s with that reaction?

He doesn’t respond, darting off down the hallway without waiting for you to catch up — though you do, anyway. It’s as if each step drives a knife deeper into your chest.

Please, don’t tell me they—

You freeze, stopping in front of a room with a slightly open door, where your boyfriend is indeed present.

But he’s not alone.

Perched above him on a sofa is Nami, straddling him, passionately kissing him. The worst part is seeing them smile at each other without noticing you, your boyfriend’s hands gently stroking his “friend’s” hips.

“They have been here since I came.”

You flutter your eyes closed.

Toji stands silently beside you. “So, he’s cheating on you, or am I wrong?” he murmurs, perhaps also feeling uncomfortable at the sight.

You step back, your chest tight, biting your lip. You hold back tears of both anger and hurt. It stings a thousand times more seeing your partner betray you like this rather than just admitting he no longer loves you, doesn’t it?

You look up at Toji, your eyes likely already red and gleaming.

No, this is definitely anger. You just want to let some curse devour him whole.

“I don’t have the money, sorry,” you admit through clenched teeth, turning on your heel to leave. “Do whatever you want; I don’t care anymore.”

“Hey.” He loosely grabs your wrist, stopping you.

You barely turn back. You’re hurt, yes, but also furious that you didn’t end things with your boyfriend yourself. What a shame, right? It should’ve been you hurting him, not him hurting—

“You know what I see?” Toji takes a few steps toward you, a mocking smile on his lips. He leans in to speak near your ear, his well-built chest brushing against yours. “I see someone filled with rage. You want revenge, don’t you?”

But you’re in no mood to laugh.

He sighs, realizing his attempt at humor fell flat. “Alright, alright. Listen.” He stands in front of you, hands still in his pockets as he leans against the wall. “I’m not the best at comforting people, but… how about a deal?”

You blink.

“We’re both in an… awkward situation, you see. I need to get paid, and you’re on the brink of committing murder.” A smile spreads across his lips.

You still don’t smile.

“So,” he looks down, a bit distracted and uncomfortable despite his smug expression, “I wasn’t totally joking when I said I’d accept other forms of payment. Plus, I think your lil’ guy here needs someone to teach him a less—”

But you cut him off instantly, grabbing the collar of his black T-shirt with both hands and pulling him toward you to crush your lips against his.

Toji, surprised for a second, quickly recovers, gripping your hips to pull you impossibly closer, his lips following yours, attempting to soothe the fury they carry in anger.

He moves backward with you, eyes closed as he pushes open another slightly ajar door to a room, kicking it shut behind him. He pulls back, watching you intently.

Your gaze softens oddly as it meets his. He raises an eyebrow, almost repeating his question from a minute ago, and you nod. “I accept,” you murmur, and his face lights up.

Leaning toward you again, his lips capture yours in another heated kiss that ignites with raw desire. “Fuck. What kind of boyfriend he is, huh?” Toji growls between breathless kisses. “With a girlfriend with lips this sweet, hmm?”

Your feet tangle with his, each step unsure, trying to avoid falling anywhere other than the softness of the couch. You gasp, trying to catch your breath, but everything about Toji makes breathing impossible. “Toji, you—”

“Bet he’s got a small one, doesn’t he?” The blush flooding your face makes him smirk, his scar brushing your jaw as his mouth descends to your pulse. “Knew it.” He nips at your shoulder, his tongue darting out to leave a mark that’ll remind you of him for a good while.

“Toji, please—” you sigh, wincing in pleasure as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your neck, leaving two hickeys in his wake. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the sweet sounds spilling out — especially when he brings his knee up between your legs, rubbing it sloppily against your heated core.

“Let ’em out, doll,” he mutters, his hands roaming across your chest slowly before he yanks, popping the buttons off and exposing your bare skin to him. “I want him to hear just how good I make you feel, how loud I can make you scream my name.”

He doesn’t even give you time to protest; he’s already unclasping your bra and kneading your soft breasts, leaving you arching with pleasure from his teasing alone. And if his hands can do this... what about his cock?

He takes his time, pinching and rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. You moan for real this time, back arching, chest heaving with quickened breaths. “Ahh— Wan’ more,” you whine, the sound going straight to his strained, clothed arousal.

“Am I the one who’s supposed to be saying that?” Toji laughs, enjoying the sight of you squirming and pouting under his teasing, his tongue swirling and rolling over one breast while his fingers toy with the other.

“Toji.”

He lifts his head, pulling his mouth from your breast with a wet pop and tilting his head to the side, that devilish grin still on his lips. “What is it, doll?” He doesn’t even bother wiping away the thin string of saliva connecting his lips to your sensitive nipple.

You writhe beneath him, trying to shimmy off your pants, but the tight space between you two makes the task more challenging than expected.

He chuckles — a rough sound — and grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head, trapping you beneath him. “Getting needy, are we? Looks like you need a hand,” he coos, sliding his thick fingers down your bare chest before slipping the tip of his finger under your waistband.

The touch is electrifying. Both infuriating and warm, as Toji tests your patience.

With his finger still just inside your clothing, he trails it down to your hips before stopping. “Lift your hips for me.” You obey, his low “good girl” making your poor core clench around nothing. His finger is soon joined by the rest of his hand, and he easily slides it down to remove your pants in one smooth motion. “There you go…”

“When I said I wanted more, I meant here,” you mumble, glancing down at the small damp patch in the center of your panties, so exposed for him.

“Naughty, huh?” Toji releases your wrists, kneeling down between your thighs. He grips your hips tightly, his thumbs pressing firmly, leaving slight indents in your skin. “So pretty, so soft,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your inner thighs, kissing and nibbling until you’re gasping.

“You— You’re teasing,” you pant, burying your fingers in his dark hair, tugging lightly when he brushes his nose against your puffy clit through the damp fabric.

“I am,” he admits, laying the flat of his tongue over the wet patch before inhaling. “Smells and tastes so good, doll.” And your cheeks go flush again as he quickly strips your panties off and tosses them onto the couch’s headrest.

“Sh-shut up!”

“You’re adorable when I get dirty with you, but you’re just as dirty, so don’t,” he says, wrapping his sculpted arms around your hips and pulling you against his face. “try to turn the tables,” he finishes, his voice muffled between your drenched folds. “Wonder why that jerk cheated on you,” he adds, lapping at your clit as you let out needy whimpers.

“Shit. Easy, I’m sensitive,” you babble, digging your nails into his shoulder as he starts devouring you with real intent.

“Love those sounds, by the way,” he murmurs, sucking on your sweet bundle of nerves, ignoring the persistent ache in his pants as his cock begs to be freed, desperate to plunge deep inside you.

Your eyelids flutter closed, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, trying to keep Toji’s name from spilling from your mouth as he tightens his grip on you, practically smashing your soaked core against his face but the way his lips close everytime around your clit with slowness is just unbearable.

Sounds of heavy breaths, licks, and wetness fill the room, turning the atmosphere almost sauna-like. Your pulse pounds in your temples, your heartbeat frantic.

“You’re still not loud enough.” And he remedies that quickly, pressing his nose against your clit as he slowly thrusts his tongue inside you, your walls clenching around it with lewd, wet sounds because of how slick you are for him. And now, he’s thrusting his tongue even deeper, humming in approval when you throw your head back, tugging harder on his dark locks.

“Shit! Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” you cry out, toes curling as your nails dig into his skin before scratching it up.

“That’s it,” he purrs, helping you buck your hips against him as you mewl and moan thanks to his tongue. “Let him hear how good ya feel, yeah?” He brings a hand to your clit to rub it gently, then pinches it roughly. He bullies your snug cunt with each deep and precise thrust of his tongue, brushing your sweet spot every time, and you’re sure you’ll die if you don’t come right after.

And he probably knows it, because as if reading your mind, he withdraws his tongue from your twitching insides and licks his lips shamelessly — your glossy juices shining on them.

“Wanna hear how good you feel louder, doll, ’kay?” He brings a finger to your trembling entrance, pressing gently against the delicious barrier just waiting to be crossed. “You’re so close, baby,” he chuckles, eyes dilated with desire. “Hear me out, I’m gonna make you cum, and you’re gonna be a good girl. Understood?” He gently pats your thigh.

You nod, lips trembling from anticipation, eyes half-closed as he inserts his forefinger into you — and now you’re even tighter with his digit replacing his tongue. How would it feel with something bigger? The pad of his finger hits your sensitive g-spot right away.

“Ah!” you whine. The knot in your stomach coils tighter, ready to explode. “Toji, I’m almost cumming, please, just—”

He cuts you off, a low grunt escaping his lips as he crashes his mouth on your clit, treating it like a toy and bullying it over and over until you can’t stop your legs from shaking uncontrollably — as he finger-fucks you and sucks on your oversensitive clit.

“Fuck! Feels s’good, Toji, please,” you moan, your insides throbbing around his finger, while his second finger joins the first, finger-fucking you as you squirm on the couch, feeling the wet patch under your ass marking the mess you’re making.

“Cum, doll, now,” Toji orders, his voice strained, unable to ignore the throbbing in his own pants. His mouth is relentless on your clit, his fingers curling inside you just right, as if coaxing your body to surrender completely.

Right at the edge, you wrap your legs around his neck, sobbing out his name as you cum — hard. Your walls clamp down around his fingers, your body trembling as you release.

Your boyfriend never made you cum this hard, not even close.

You realize you actually squirted when you hear Toji swallowing, his eyes fluttering closed as he drinks every drop, even as your body keeps spasming after he finally pulls his fingers out of you.

When your breathing slows, Toji pulls back from your thighs, looking up to meet your gaze after the powerful orgasm he just brought you to.

“Tell me…” He licks the last traces of you off his chin, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that the first time you’ve squirted?” he asks, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your oversensitive clit.

You bite back a whimper, trying to steady your trembling legs. “Y-Yeah,” you confess, swallowing hard, noticing his black shirt dampened with your cum. “I didn’t mean to make that mess, I’m sorry—”

“Why’re you apologizing?” He kisses your inner thigh, soothing your shakiness with soft caresses. “The only one who should be begging for forgiveness is the jerk in the other room,” he mutters in a low, rough voice. The contrast between his tender kisses and harsh words about your boyfriend makes your heart skip a beat. “I bet he’s crying like a lil’ boy,” he chuckles.

You force a smile, though there’s still a slight sting from the betrayal. “He should be, yeah.”

His expression softens. “C’mon, doll, don’t give me that look,” he sighs, rising from his crouched position to remove his pants. “Just forget him, even if it’s hard, hmm?” He ignores the growing bulge in his boxers, leaning down to kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You hum, kissing him back slowly, eyes closed. With each kiss, you feel a warmth, a tenderness there that surprises you. Why do his lips feel so gentle, so... caring? A feeling you can’t quite place?

Between kisses, you take soft breaths, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. He doesn’t resist, his tongue teasing along your soft, warm lips.

“Want to stop?” he murmurs, his voice unexpectedly soft and low.

You flutter your eyes open and shake your head. “I’d like to continue, if you don’t wanna stop,” you mutter back.

His gaze softens more, seeing you beneath him, flushed and vulnerable. “Of course. I don’t think I could stop even if I tried… especially not with…” His gaze drops, his cheeks flushing slightly, “...this.”

You glance down at his painfully hard length pressing against his boxers, the small wet patch testifying to how badly he wants you.

“Mm, sorry,” he grumbles.

But you gently cup his face, pulling him into another kiss as you reach down to slip his boxers off. He helps you free him from his strained confines, and you both share a heated kiss. Toji leans over you, leaving soft kisses along your lips, cheeks, jaw, and down your neck.

The tender moment gradually heats up as impatience grows, your legs tangling with his. When something warm brushes your stomach, you shiver, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist.

His size… he’s big. His cock is thick and already straining, eager to be buried deep inside you.

“Can you fuck me?” you whisper, blinking up at him with soft, pleading eyes.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Toji chuckles, a low rumble shaking his chest.

He grabs you by the hips, laying you down on the couch to position you as he aligns himself at your entrance. Toji takes his cock in his hand and guides it to you, so big compared to your cute, petite pussy that’s about to take all of him in so well…

When the flushed tip of his cock brushes against your soaked folds, you hold your breath to keep from moaning even before he’s begun. But Toji can be a bastard in his own way — drawing slow, torturous circles around your puffy clit, then sliding down to gather your juices from between your folds, which he spreads apart to make room for him.

“As honest as you,” he scoffs, gently tapping your tight ring of resistance with the tip. He looks down at you, your form much smaller than his — Toji is big all over, from his muscles to his cock, and all he wants is to ruin your smallness.

And this bastard keeps eye contact, teasing the entrance with his slick tip, just to watch you break — your lips parted, eyes slightly squinted, hands weakly gripping him.

“Toji,” you moan weakly, squirming gently. “Please, just more, please.” And your voice is so soft, so velvety, he might have come right then.

Oh God, you’ll be the death of him.

And as if it wasn’t enough, you keep repeating his name in that same tone, making his urge to slip inside you unbearable.

“Fuck, doll, don’t moan my name like that or—” But you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling his tip to your dripping entrance so that it’s already inside, your gummy, warm walls tightening around him, drawing him in deeper.

“I wanna take it,” you whine softly, bucking your hips forward, your snug cunt swallowing half of him. “Oh—”

“Ah— Shit,” Toji hisses, leaning down to press your small body against his, burying his face in your neck. But the worst part is, he seems to lose control of his body, which thrusts deeper into you on its own, your clingy walls gripping him tightly from the start.

He stretches you too quickly, but it feels so good you wonder if you might be ovulating. “Ah— Oh— Fuck, s’deep, s’big,” you babble, low and cute mumbles, as you curl your toes and roll your eyes back from his size. “Too big, Toji, too big.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He pushes in even deeper until you’ve taken all of him and his tip brushes your womb.

Without even moving, he nearly came. But he has to hold back. To make you come on his cock, fuck you senseless, and let you scream his name so that the entire manor knows you’re his.

“Mine,” Toji groans, thrusting gently into you once you’ve adjusted, his hips meeting yours perfectly. “So wet f’me.” His breathing becomes ragged, his thoughts consumed by how impossibly tight you are. “And so fuckin’ tight.” He speeds up the pace a little, reveling in the sound of your mewls growing louder. “Gonna make you mine tonight, ’kay?”

In the room, only the squelching sounds and the slap of skin against skin fill the air. Your mind spins, the pleasure so intense and overwhelming that you can barely respond to what Toji says.

You’re reduced to a pile of whimpers, thinking only of TojiTojiTojiToji.

And he knows it, especially as you tighten around him and he lets out a guttural groan. His hips pound into you with more speed and roughness, but it’s still not enough. He wants you to fall apart for him when you cum, fucking your little pussy with his big, big cock.

Such a filthy size kink.

Then he pulls out, grabbing your hips to flip you over onto your stomach, making sure the plush cushions support you properly, and he slams back in, pounding rougher, deeper, and so much better than a second ago.

Now, you feel him at a depth you’ve never reached before, your sweet cunt clinging to him each time he pulls out only to push in just as deep. “Ah! So deep, so deep, Toji,” you sniffle, unable to keep your moans quiet any longer. “Wanna cum, gonna cum with you.” You bury your face between two cushions.

The heat between your two bodies is almost unbearable, small beads of sweat rolling down Toji’s toned chest as he chuckles, half-breathless, leaning over you to sink even deeper.

And you wonder how it’s even possible.

“You take it so well, doll,” he purrs, tightening his grip around your waist as your twitching insides pulse around his cock, right on the edge of making him spill his hot load inside you. But the rhythmic slap of his heavy balls against your clit is enough to keep him from the edge, for now. “You want to be filled up? Say it, baby. I don’t— No, he can’t hear you,” he chuckles, kissing your neck as the depth makes you see stars through tears of pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine louder, “wanna be full of your cum, please, Toji.” His thick, heavy balls are now the biggest turn-on, so big you just want to drain them to fill yourself up. “I’m close, so close,” you sob, pleading with him.

“Me too, doll, so let’s cum together, yeah?” he chortles, because, God, how small and cute you are. He admires, for a moment, the hickeys covering your skin and the scratches you left on his arms. He’s fucking you like a mad, possessed man.

You sniffle, nodding and writhing to take him fully, but you already have. Your wet, tight, warm cunt swallowing him up, desperate for every inch. He’ll fulfill his mission. Even if he wasn’t paid, he stopped caring about that long ago. Now he just wants youyouyou.

And as your synchronized hip movements, bringing the both of you to the edge, you cum hard again. Your sweet pussy clenches around his length, swallowing and milking him as your shaky legs can’t support you anymore. A cry of pleasure escapes you. Toji shuts his eyes, moaning your name as he empties himself inside you, filling your womb with his thick, sinful load.

Only stolen breaths, the overwhelming scent of sex, and small whimpers remain in the aftermath. Silence falls, all troubles vanish, and the night finally grows peaceful.

You wipe away the dried tear tracks on your cheeks and turn your head slightly to meet Toji’s calm gaze. “What about my shirt?”

“I’ve got a spare; want it?” he offers, not pulling out right away. You simply nod, and he adds with a smirk, “An’ if you’re free tonight, you’re up for a little getaway with me?”

“But Utahime and—”

“They’ll wake up like nothing happened, I promise,” Toji reassures you, and you grin.

“Deal.”

~~~~

Meanwhile, back in the room with Nami and your ex, a 4 grade curse — harmless but just annoying enough — flits around happily. Nami is fast asleep on the floor, but your ex has dark bags under his twitching eyes, having not slept a wink.

Between your cries of pleasure and everything else that went on, he understood that the mysterious man who had come to “rescue” them was thoroughly enjoying everything he’d been hoping to do with you for weeks, despite your refusals — the reason behind your “break” or rather, breakup. The curse, left by Toji on purpose, has a parrot effect: it repeats everything it hears in a loop, driving anyone nearby mad.

“Ah! Shit, Toji! Feels so good!” it shrieks in a piercing voice, buzzing around your ex’s head like a fly.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

a/n: hey everyone :) so okay okay, this fic contains much more smut than i usually write (hope at least it’ll be worth it haha). i still feel bad about having missed kinkoctober but anyway, at least we’re here <3 i’ve struggled a bit with the start of the fic but the smut was (for once lol) quite easy to write. happy reading <33

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobeenhappy-blog @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq

@sanemistar @monokaix

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reidmania · 5 months ago

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loml | spencer reid

summary; after you and spencer reunite at JJ’s wedding after being broken up for two years, you are quick to realise it will never be the same as it was, you’re the love of his life, and he is the loss of yours.

warnings; exes to not lovers but something!! no happy ending, angst, fem reader, season 7 spence, mentions of arguments, falling back into feelings because its familiar, they are so in love, jj’s childhood friend!reader, reader wears a dress, no use of y/n cus ew, reader has long enough hair to have up, they are so meant to be its not even funny, everyone can see it. they are perfect for each other TIME IS MEAN!!!

an; hey this was ur fault ! also i made so much shit up abt the wedding because i cbf rewatching that ep tbh 🥰🥰

‘what a valiant roar, what a bland goodbye’ is this fic

also this was written in an hour and im sick and im pretty sure its horrible and doesn’t make sense but thats so okay!! lmk if u want a part two!! they deserve better pls want a part two!!

‘Who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames? If we know the steps anyway. we embroidered the memories, of the time I was away, stitching, "We were just kids, babe", I said, "I don't mind, it takes time" I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed. I felt aglow like this, never before and never since. if you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary. you and I go from one kiss to gettin married. still alive, killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried. in your suit and tie, in the nick of time. you lowdown boy, you stand up guy, holy ghost, you told me I'm, the love of your life’

You remembered it all too well.

The lights gleamed around the garden, there was some background music playing, quietly in the distance, probably louder for the people surrounding it. Whereas you had found yourself settled in a quieter corner of the beautifully set garden. The ceremony was beautiful, you sat through and tried to avoid shedding tears seeing someone so important so happy.

You were alone, watching the guests of the wedding dance when you felt the presence behind you. The familiar cologne filled your senses in a way that made your head spin and chest ache with familiarity and overwhelming comfort. Two years since you and smelt the cologne and it still had the same effect on you.

You remembered the conversation as if it was a broken record playing on repeat in your mind. How your head turned towards him and the smile lit up his face. Its not like you had ended on bad terms — not at all. It was a mutual agreement to break up all those years ago. You were just at two different points in your lives and it was beginning to clash.

His voice was gentle when he said your name. You had seen him around earlier, your heart had skipped a beat and your stomach filled with familiar butterflies, but you didn’t approach him. Now here he was, standing in front of you, saying your name as if no time had passed at all.

You repeated his name back, a smile on your face as you stood up from the white garden chair that had been delicately placed around the table. His arms enveloped you almost as soon as you were standing. You could recall the way they felt, safe, secure and the exact same as they had two years beforehand.

“You look great” He had mumbled into your hair, his hands pressing against the small of your back, furthering your presence against him, trailing of the silk of the floor length dress you had worn, face buried into your hair as if he had been waiting his entire life for this moment.

Your hands rested on the back of either of his shoulders, head resting against the front of his shoulder. You were sure he could feel the small breath of air you let out against his neck before you pulled yourself away from the hug. “So do you. It’s been so long.” You had said, eyes trailing over his face, taking in every noticeable change since the last time you had seen him.

“Too long.” He agreed, eyes mirroring yours as they danced along your features, as if he was committing it to memory.

The words had made your chest tighten and warm all at once. It wasn’t long before you were sitting at an empty table, catching up. You told him about everything that had changed in your time apart as did you. And then the topic swiftly changed as the two of you danced along fond memories of your years spent together.

“We were so young” He mumbled after you had recalled a specific memory of the two of you having pillow fights on late Saturday nights, a small thing that became a common ritual every night Spencer had been home on a Saturday. Your smiled had widened at his words — although only two years ago the maturity between you both and grown massively.

He added quickly as he reached out to take your hand, a familiar movement you had been neglected of the last two years. “I was too young, immature.. You always deserved more than what I could’ve given you then.” His words were sweet and sincere yet you begged to differ.

“I think that was the happiest i’ve ever been.” You recalled. Everyday spent with Spencer was a memory you kept safe in a secure part of your mind. You looked back at photos from that time, there was a certain gleam in your eye, one that wasn’t found in any photo recently, despite being content with your place in life currently.

Being with Spencer was a sort of fever dream, a sort of perfect you’d only find in a film or a romance novel, things like falling asleep while he read to you, or slow dancing in the dim moon light that gleamed through the kitchen window at late hours, small love notes left around the house, that was something that you failed to find anywhere else — not for a lack of looking.

His eyes stayed on yours, his skin glowing under the warmed yellow lighting of the fairy lights that dazzled the garden with their gleam, his eyes holding a certain sparkle you could only describe as nostalgia. “Me too.” He had said, eyes dropping from yours to your hand in his.

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart soared with the warmth from his touch, your mind fogging from any sense of realism, until your thumb traced his knuckles and it lacked the familiarity everything else did. His hands had grown rougher, more callous although the same soft in your touch.

“Dance with me?” He offered, eyes lifting to meet yours again. Voice gentle and barely above a whisper as if he was scared you would reject him, maybe even more scared you would accept and it wouldn’t be the same as it was.

You nodded, accepting anyways.

His hands dragged yours to the crowd of other people dancing. His hands moved to wrap gently around your waist, your arms slinging over his shoulders to wrap around his neck as his arms pulled you in close. Chest to chest. Heart to heart.

The music fell into background noise as your focus was pulled instead to the sound of his gentle breathing, and slow heartbeat as his head rested atop of yours that was press into his shoulder. You fell into step as if no time had passed at all, you swayed gently in his arms.

“I’ve missed you.” His words came out as a whisper and your heart pulled. This was wrong, you could feel it in your stomach yet the thought was quickly replaced by the feeling of home that buried itself in your ribcage as his hands trailed gently up and down your sides in a soothing familiar motion.

You wanted to reply and tell him you had missed him too, that every night you laid in bed and recalled every last moment between you too. How people from your past still asked about him, how their faces fell when you laughed and admitted you were no longer together.

You wanted to tell him that in the time that had passed you had still the framed photos in a box under your bed, how you hadn’t changed a single detail in your apartment just in case one day he came over. You wanted it to be familiar.

It was, This was. Everything about Spencer was familiar and it was safe.

“I think we needed the time.” You exhaled out, honestly. Maybe if you were to try again now it would end up differently. Maybe he was right in what he said earlier — you were both too immature to handle the intensity of the love the streamed between you. The pull that seemed magnetic the minute your eyes laid on his.

He hummed gently as his arms stopped their movements on your side and instead rewrapped themselves around your waist, dancing down your back, holding you close as he inhaled your scent. This was all he ever wanted.

“Everyone still tells me I was a fool for letting you go, that I was meant to be with you. I think they were right.” He mumbled out into your hair. You remembered being told the same thing. You remembered your friends telling you how sorry they were and how they could have never imagined you and Spencer ever breaking up, ‘you guys were the great love story’ they had rambled.

You shook your head against his shoulder. It was meant to happen like that. Maybe this was all you would ever be. Meant to happen, but never actually happening.

“Maybe” You exhaled, unable to bring yourself to say more as you relished in the moment. The distance of the last two years between you both seemed to disappear as your focus remained on everything that was the same.

The difference, he was different, you were different. Your likes and dislikes had changed, as you assumed his. How if you were to try again you would have to relearn one another. Everything he once knew about you was a distant memory, a familiar reminder of what had once been. Of what was once lost.

His lips pressed against the side of your head and your heart pressed against your chest uncomfortably as your heart beat increased. His hands left a burning trail on your skin even over the fabric of your dress. It was too similar, and too different all at once.

The love between you and Spencer was loud. You loved each other loudly. It was never meant to be a secret, everyone saw it in the shared glances, even now, in the way his touch was significantly gentler with you than anyone else, how your body relaxed in his grasp.

The love between you was loudest in the silence.

Everyone could see it.

Your mind burnt with the memory of the night you broke up, he brought the idea of a breakup up. He suggested it and you whole heartedly agreed. Not for a lack of love. You both mutually expressed the amount of love you had for each other throughout the entire conversation. It just wasn’t the right time. The conversation happened, he mumbled out ‘don’t be a stranger’ as he kissed your forehead in the doorway of your home.

You had let out a wet chuckle as his fingers brushed away the tears that stained your cheeks, similar ones on his own. You agreed, he mumbled an I love you, and then a ‘ill see you soon’

And you hadn’t seen him since.

Until now.

You hadn’t been bitter about it. You were partially glad you hadn’t seen him. You knew if given the chance in those two years you would’ve ran back to him in an instant. Told him how you were sure your heart hadn’t been beating regularly without him by your side, then listened to him ramble about the science of broken heart syndrome as you pressed soft kisses against every inch of his face.

“Whats going on in your pretty head?” He asked. You let out a laugh at his sweet words. The sentence something he had used numerous times throughout the years of your relationship whenever you found yourself lost in thought.

Everything had changed, yet stayed the exact same.

“I don’t think I’ll ever move on from us.” You mumbled out honestly. The words a weight on your chest, a truth that had been buried down your throat you failed to admit to anyone else.

His touch provided a specific burn against your skin, his voice playing an irreplaceable melody in your mind, his sweet words and whispered nothings written on every butterfly that filled your stomach, his eyes unparalleled to another. the feeling in your chest that only he could arise. the smile on your face only he could provide, the gleam in your eyes only present when he was too.

He had left a mark on you, your relationship had left you in a daze for the last two years without you even realising it. nothing would provide the same fulfilment as being by his side did.

Every feeling with him had been new and original, a sort of happiness you didn’t know was humanly possible. You were pretty sure he provided you with a dangerous amount of dopamine, an addictive amount.

If Spencer was a drug, then you had been going through withdrawals for years.

“I know I will never move on from us” His admission carried a different weight than yours did. Despite being the same the meaning was different.

it left your heart heavy and regret flowering in your chest.

“I should go, I told my roommate i’d be home early.” You whispered out, against the soft fabric of his suit jacket. His arms tightened around you momentarily before releasing his hold on you.

His eyes were lidded when he looked down at your face, your arms fell from his shoulders and your stomach twisted at the familiarity of the loss of his touch.

“Don’t be a stranger.” He said, voice quiet, meaningful and honest and you felt an overwhelming urge to vomit. Everything left unsaid over the last two years coming up in the back of your throat but remaining unsaid.

“I won’t.” You promised.

His lips pressed against your forehead as he squeezed your waist gently, before letting you go.

The movement was natural, like you would spend every day of the rest of your life doing it. as if you would wake up in the morning tangled a-mess in his arms, the you would find yourself a giggling mess during a pillow fight on an upcoming Saturday night. As if you were finally going to happen.

You didn’t see him again after you left that night.

You burnt with the memory of his arms and his lips against your skin that night for the next years of your life.

For a love so loud everything seemed so quiet. You recalled the goodbye between you two that seemed so peaceful and tame, an understatement of the love that blossomed when in one another’s presence.

An invalidation of everything he had made you feel.

For a great love story, someone had to experience a great loss.

And he was yours.

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imaginespazzi · 1 month ago

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Part 12: Fleeting Moments Of Forever

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 13

I let my guard down and you pulled the rug (I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved)

(In which a depressed by recent events author spreads her depression)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff if you squint really hard, Hurt with a little bit of comfort if you squint really hard again (basically just squint you guys!)

Words: 12.3K

TW: Swearing (as per usual), a man (ew), brief reference to parental abandonment

A/N: Good morning/night my lovelies <3 Not quite sure what to say when it's one in the morning and I'm slightly delirious but I'm only a couple of hours late with this. There's a lot going on in this chapter and I'm sure I will once again be spammed with asks calling me evil, but remember lovelies, it's for the plot! I will be editing this chapter at some point tomorrow because I just really don't have the energy to edit but I wanted to get this out for you guys by tonight. So if you're reading tonight and see mistakes, please feel free to point them out and I'll fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves!

May 2033

~ A few minutes ago ~

Azzi feels like shit as she runs up the stairs behind her daughter. She feels like a shit mother, she feels like a shit sister-in-law-sort-of-kinda-thing and most of all she feels like a shit ex-girlfriend-turned-complicated-current-situationship-or-whatever. And saying those complicated relationship titles in her head only makes her feel worse. Because really it should’ve been so simple; it had been so simple. And Azzi had chosen to make everything complicated and difficult instead.

Drew’s words had been like a shot going down wrong, an accusation she knew she deserved but one that stung all the same. Paige’s silence -the fact that she hadn’t been able to give Azzi the assurance that she’d forgiven her- had been like the terrible chaser after that only made her feel more nauseous. And the after effects of it had been Azzi exploding all her feelings on her baby girl who’d just wanted some damn soda.

Letting the guilt fester, Azzi pushes open the door to Paige’s bedroom to find Stephie cuddled up against lavender pillows, one of Paige’s few hoodies that hadn’t made it to the Fudd household draped around her tiny little body. Azzi’s heart constricts at the sound of her daughter’s hiccoughs, tightening even more when she notices the wet patch Stephie’s tears have created against the pillow.

“Stephie-bean,” she says softly as she climbs onto the bed, reaching out to brush a hand across the little girl’s curled up frame.

“Go away Mama. I’m mad at you,” Stephie’s petulant reply is immediate as she shrugs off Azzi’s hand, furling away further into herself.

“I know sweetheart-”

“You yelled at me,” Stephie continues, trying to keep her voice as firm as a five-year old’s can be but it’s too many emotions for such a little soul and Azzi can hear the telltale sign of a fresh new set of tears just waiting to fall.

She tries again, gently pulling Stephie’s back against her chest and this time, there’s little resistance as the little girl goes easily into her mother’s arms. Azzi tightens her arms around Stephie’s waist, pressing a litany of featherlight kisses into her hair in between apologies, “I’m sorry. Mama’s so sorry sweetheart. I shouldn’t’ve yelled like that baby-”

“No you shouldn’t’ve,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, as she turns her body around to face her mother’s and Azzi’s hands instinctively move to wipe away the tears tracks on her face, “you were so loud. I don’t like when you yell.”

“I know bean,” Azzi says, the tight grip of remorse squeezing her heart harder at the melancholy in her daughter’s words, “but Stephie baby you know soda’s bad for you-”

“But it’s Friday Mama and I only wanted a little,” the little girl whines immediately, “I swear Mama I would’ve only had a little bit and then I would brushed my teeth so hard and they’d be sparkling white like this,” she pulls her cheeks wide open so she can bare her pearly white teeth at her mother, “see!”

And despite that heavy pit in her stomach, Azzi can’t help the slight peal of laughter that rumbles throughout her and elicits a matching grin from her daughter. She ruffles the little girl’s hair before pulling her flush against herself, Stephie’s head burrowing itself into the crook of her neck and for the first time tonight, Azzi finally feels like she can breathe again. Because at the end of the day, what matters most is the child wrapped securely in her arms and as long as she has Stephie, Azzi thinks, no matter what, she’ll find a way to survive. For Stephie.

Something soft and fluffy brushes against her skin and Azzi reluctantly unfocuses from Stephie to find that the arm of the hoodie that had previously been draped over her daughter’s body, is now wrapped around both of them. Paige’s hoodie. She stares at the material, eyes blinking back tears as that wretched feeling of something’s missing whirls around her. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling; this secret craving that Azzi had often found herself hiding away from when she and Stephie were alone. A craving to have Paige there too, a craving for the two of them to be cradled in the blonde’s strong arms, a craving for this almost perfect picture to be complete. And now that she’s had a taste of what it’s like to have that - these past few weeks having felt like a tester of what it could be like to live in a dream that Azzi had thought she was no longer allowed to dream- Azzi wants nothing more than for it to be permanent.

Another wave of guilt crashes against her as her mind flickers back to the bitter note she’d ended the conversation down stairs on. The stinging emphasis she’d placed on my daughter echoes loudly in her ears and even though Azzi knows that technically she hadn’t said anything untrue, the image of Paige’s face falling -the sparkle in her eyes dimming at the reality of the younger woman’s words- makes Azzi’s heart stutter with regret. There’s a part of her that thinks it’s all happening too fast, a part of her that’s in a constant duel with the rest of herself that’s ready to call Stephie theirs. And she knows it’s only been a couple of weeks -knows that it’s a little insane to have already carved out a place for forever on a shelf that’s plagued with uncertainties- but the truth is that there’s always been an unfilled space in Azzi and Stephie’s world that’s just been waiting for Paige to step in and claim it. It’s always been hers; they’ve always been hers.

“Mama,” Stephie’s quiet voice mumbles against her chest and Azzi distractedly hums in return, “why does Miss Buecks have to learn to say no to me?”

“Because she likes to say yes a little too much and she definitely likes to say yes to you but if she keeps saying yes all the time, she’s gonna spoil you. Well more than you already are that is,” Azzi teases goodnaturedly, tugging at Stephie’s nose.

The little girl pouts loudly before indignantly refuting her mother’s statement, “I am not spoiled. I’m a good girl. A very good girl. A very, very, very, very, very-”

‘Okay, okay, okay,” Azzi says, hushing the little girl with a slight laugh before she can continue to repeat herself, “you’re my very good girl who’s just a little bit spoiled.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Stephie admits, scrunching her nose, “but how come you never make Aunty Leen or Aunty J or Aunty Tessie or any of your other teammates say no to me?”

“Because-well,” Azzi struggles to find the words, “Miss Buecks is- she’s just- it’s different and she’s around a lot more,” she’s around all the time, “and so she’s gotta learn to say no to you sometimes.”

“Like Pops had to learn to say no to me if he wanted to keep helping Nana babysit?” Stephie asks earnestly and Azzi laughs at the reminder of how she and Katie had basically had to force Tim into learning how to say no to his persuasive granddaughter.

“Yeah something like that,” she says with an amused grin.

“So Miss Buecks is like-” Stephie pauses, hesitating slightly before a soft smile -one that bears an uncanny resemblance to the one her mother sometimes has when thinking of the same woman- appears on her face, “she’s like family?”

Azzi’s breath hitches in her throat; the delicate mix of sincerity and innocence in her daughter’s voice makes her pause. Because Stephie says it like it’s the most simple yet most important truth in the word, that’s it’s common knowledge she’s known all her life. Paige is family.

“Yeah,” the brunette breathes out finally, the edges of her lips slightly upturning into a grin that matches her daughter’s, “I guess she is.”

Stephie nods quietly as she mulls over her mother’s answer and Azzi can practically see the cogs turning in her brain before her daughter’s dark brown thoughtful eyes look back up at her, “so does that mean we can keep Miss Buecks forever?”

“I-’

“I mean cause you said she’s family right?” Stephie babbles on, ignoring the way Azzi’s eyes have widened considerably, “and family- family is forever right Mama? That’s what they say? So- so if Miss Buecks is family that means she has to stay forever? We get to keep her forever?”

Azzi blinks rapidly at the onslaught of words falling from her daughter’s lips. Stephie makes it sound so simple; she makes a forever with the three of them sound like a given, like something that’s meant to be. And it makes her think of that night eight years ago, when Paige had made it sound just as simple.

Be mine forever.

It was Azzi who had made it complicated; obsolete even.

But, she thinks, she won’t this time. As she looks back down at her daughter, the hopeful smile on Stephie’s face as she awaits Azzi’s answer, feels a little bit like fate is giving her another chance; a clear sky to re-write her own destiny in the stars. This time, with Paige.

“Do you- do you want that,” Azzi asks slowly, “do you want to keep Miss Buecks forever?”

If possible Stephie’s smile grows even larger as she gives her mother what can only be described as a ‘duh’ look, “of course Mama. I want Miss Buecks forever and ever and ever. You want that too don’t you Mama?”

Azzi pauses for a second, letting herself be immersed in the idea.

“Yeah,” she says softly, her eyes suddenly misty. And she knows that there’s still so much left unresolved, that tonight had revealed a chiasm of problems they’d have to still build a bridge over to get back to each other. But for a chance at a forever Azzi had thought she’d long forsaken, Azzi’s willing to try, “yeah I think I’d like to keep Miss Buecks forever too.”

The squeal Stephie lets out practically bounces off the walls in tandem with the little girl springing off the bed and Azzi laughs as her daughter wraps her small hands around her mother’s much larger ones, trying to tug her along.

“Stephie wait sweetheart, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

Stephie sighs impatiently, “we’re going to Miss Buecks, Mama. We can’t just make this decision without her,” she continues matter-of-factly, “we have to tell her.”

“Tell her what Stephie?” Azzi laughs as she finally lets her daughter pull her off the bed and start dragging her out the door.

“We have to tell her that she’s family and we have to tell her that we want to keep her forever.”

***

They’re about halfway down the stairs when Azzi begins to hear the whispered hissing of an argument between Paige and Drew going on in the kitchen and she feels dread wrap itself around her whole body. It doesn’t take a genius to gauge that it’s likely about her -more specifically about her and Paige’s relationship- and suddenly it feels like something dark has been cast all over her, stomping out the brightness that she’d felt just mere moments ago.

Azzi hesitates on the last few steps, causing Stephie to impatiently look up at her as she contemplates whether or not to interrupt whatever altercation is going on in the kitchen. For as long as she’d known them, Paige and Drew had never seriously fought but then again, when Azzi had known them, Drew had been a child; a kid who would never have doubted his sister's decision, or Azzi’s for that matter. But the man that had walked into their lives tonight is one that had been witness -perhaps even a victim- to all the terrible decisions the two of them had made in the last eight years. It’s only natural, Azzi thinks, that he’d be wary of their relationship. He’d seen the burn marks that their relationship catching on fire had left on his sister’s skin and it was only natural that he’d blame the woman who’d held the matches.

“Mama,” Stephie presses as she tugs at Azzi’s hand, “come on,” she whines, “I wanna see Miss Buecks.”

“Steph-” Azzi tries to say, her instincts going haywire when she hears Paige’s voice more clearly now -stop it Drew- but then Stephie pulls hard and she’s practically tripping down the rest of the stairs, trying to keep balance as the little girl holding her hand continues to drag her towards the kitchen.

They’re still speaking too quietly for Azzi to pick up exactly what they’re saying but there’s a resigned urgency in Drew’s voice and a fearful sadness in Paige’s that makes bile rise at the back of her throat and suddenly Azzi’s very sure that whatever this conversation is, she really doesn’t want to hear it. But her feet keep moving, letting Stephie lead the way as the claws of it takes a second for everything to fall apart sink into her heart.

“-there’s a reason you only wanted to be here for this season,” Azzi hears Drew say as they finally reach the kitchen door and she forces Stephie to a halt. Every part of her is screaming to take her daughter and turn away, to not listen to wherever this conversation she clearly wasn’t meant to hear is going.

“I know,” Paige whispers and Azzi’s heart stutters as she takes in the blonde’s red-rimmed eyes as she leans against the table, “I know.”

Azzi opens her mouth, ready to alert the brother-sister duo of their presence but before she can say anything, Drew’s speaking again and as the words roll out of his mouth, Azzi feels her blood run cold.

“Stick to the plan Paige. Let the Liberty be the end goal. You’ll be in New York by the end of October.”

The plan. Liberty. New York. October.

The words run around in a frenzy through Azzi’s brain creating a mixture of confusion battling with the sense of an unwanted realization that makes her feel dizzy. It’s like someone pricking a needle against the bubble of forever she’d just let herself believe in and there’s a loud pop echoing in her head. The noise hurts. Azzi had known Paige’s contract with GSV was only for a year; she’d even considered -perhaps even expected- that when Paige had signed it, she probably wasn’t planning on staying forever.

But that was then.

Surely things would be different now.

“Miss Buecks,” Azzi’s dragged out of the cacophony of her mind by the sound of her daughter speaking. Stephie’s voice is wracked with fragility as she clings tightly onto her mother’s hand, her face morphed into a combination of betrayal and please tell me i’m wrong as she looks at Paige, whose face has gone ashen at the sight of the two of them standing by the doorway, “you’re moving to New York?”

“Stephie,” Paige whispers, eyes brimming with tears as she falls to her knees in front of the little girl, hand moving to grip her her shoulders, “sweetheart I-”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie says again, her usually boisterous tone replaced by a meek, desperate one, “are you going to New York? Are you- are you,” her voice breaks and the next words come out in a barely there whisper, “are you leaving us?”

Say no, Azzi thinks, please say no, say you aren’t leaving, promise you’d never leave. But as she watches Paige open and close her mouth, choking on air as she tries to give an answer, she knows it’s wishful thinking, knows that it’s a promise Paige isn’t going to make.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s voice is shaking, holding back her tears as tight as she’s holding onto the hope that Paige will give her the answer she wants- the answer she needs, “are you leaving us?”

“I-” Paige bites her lip, hands running up and down Stephie’s shoulder and arms, almost like she’s trying to memorize what it feels like to be able to touch her, almost like, she’s not sure when she'll get the chance to have her this close again again, “I don’t- I don’t know sweetheart I-”

It’s the wrong answer and Azzi closes her eyes as Paige cuts herself off with a small gasp of air when Stephie rips herself out of the blonde's grasp

“No,” the little girl says harshly, pushing herself behind her mothers legs.

“Stephie-bean,” Paige says helplessly, looking from the little girl to Azzi.

“No, no, no, no,” Stephie says; each no is louder than the last, “how you don’t know? You’re an ‘dult. ‘Dults are big. They know everything so how you don't know Miss Buecks?”

“It’s not that simple bean-” Paige tries to say, her hands outstretched towards the little girl, fingers clenching and unclenching like they don’t know how to be still unless they’re clasping onto her.

“It is,” Stephie yells, “are you leaving us or not? Yes or no Miss Buecks?”

“I-” the blonde splutters, still unsure of what to say.

“Stephie,” it’s Azzi who cuts Paige off this time, opening her eyes as she bends down in front of her daughter, pulling the little girl into a hug, “baby it’s okay. It’s going to be okay-”

“No it’s not,” Stephie screams as she wrangles herself out of her mother’s grip, the force of it causing Azzi to stumble backwards and something like if you’re going to hold me, hold me forever catches in her throat when Paige instinctively reaches out an arm to wrap around the her waist to keep her steady. The contact makes Azzi shiver and she has to fight the urge to let her shoulders relax, the urge to let herself melt into the warmth that Paige has always exuded. They stare at each other for a second, Azzi trying to drown herself in the ocean blue of the blonde’s eyes as Paige tries to find some semblance of stability to hold onto in the brunette’s earthy ones.

“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, that one syllable coated in layers of emotions that Azzi thinks she’d be willing to spend an eternity peeling through if it would bring her one step closer to keeping the woman in front of her from leaving, from going to fucking New York.

“Mama I wanna go home,” Stephie’s adamant voice pierces through the silence and Azzi tears her gaze away from Paige -but not before she can catch a brief glance of the older woman’s face contorting in pain- to look up at her daughter's cloudy face.

“Stephie-bean,” Paige speaks before Azzi can, heartbreak laced in her tone as she practically pleads with the little girl, “sweetheart please-”

“You promised you’d try to stay” Stephie bursts out, big fat tears cascading down her small face, “do you even rem-ber? At Nana and Pops’s house when I was scared you left you promised you’d try. But you’re not- you’re not even trying to stay Miss Buecks,” the little girl accuses, “you- you- you lied to me Miss Buecks.”

“I didn’t Stephie- I didn’t lie-” Paige tries to explain between her own tears and they’re still pressed so close together that Azzi can feel every shake of the older woman’s body against her own, “I didn’t lie sweetheart. I’m still- I’m still trying-”

“You’re not-”

“I am. I am Stephie. It’s just-” Paige’s eyes flicker towards Azzi who flinches at the unspoken implication, “it’s complicated.”

“Then un-comp-icate it,” Stephie stomps her feet petulantly before a series of heavy sobs wracked her tiny body and she heaves loudly, clutching at her chest.

Concern floods through Azzi’s veins as she shuffles towards her daughter, still on her knees and Paige follows her lead, the two of them inching closer, “Stephie-”

Something shifts as Stephie looks at the two of them through tear-stained eyelashes; the anger and fight slowly dissolving into the air. And then, if possible, her face crumples even more before she’s falling into Paige’s lap, one arm tightly wrapping around the blonde’s neck as her other hand reaches out to grab onto Azzi’s bicep, binding the three of them together in a mess of limbs on the cold kitchen floor.

“Please don’t go Miss Buecks,” Stephie wails as Paige clutches the little girl firmly against her chest, her hands brushing through her dark curls as she tries to comfort her, “please, please, please Miss Buecks I don’t want you to go. Don’t go to New York. Please don’t go. Please stay- stay with me and Mama forever. Please Miss Buecks.”

“Stephie-”

“Please don’t leave us Miss Buecks,” Stephie cries, her breathing unnaturally heavy as she shakes in Paige’s arms and Azzi reaches out a hand to soothe her back, trying and failing to keep her own tears at bay. Azzi’s chest tightens as Stephie continues to babble, begging Paige to stay as the blonde continues to hold her, droplets of water streaming down her face as she gently rocks the little girl back and forth. Because despite the way Paige has practically melded Stephie’s little body into her own, Azzi can see the way that the older woman still can’t seem to say the words that the little girl wants to hear, can’t seem to bring herself to guarantee forever. And it feels like the threads of the dream she’d just started weaving, are slipping out of her fingertips.

Azzi doesn’t know how long they sit there -Stephie still pleading in Paige’s arms and Azzi stroking her back- but eventually her daughter’s words begin to turn into nonsense, her breathing slowly evening out until there’s nothing but silence; the gravity of her emotions having lulled her to sleep. The silence is deafening as Azzi tries to figure out what exactly she should do next, take her daughter and run or succumb to that part of herself that wants to follow Stephie’s lead and beg Paige to never leave them. She still doesn’t quite understand what’s going on, what sort of plan Paige has about moving to New York and if she’s honest with herself, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to know; a part of her that wants to go back to ignorant bliss they’d been living in for the last few weeks. But as she stares at the dried tear tracks staining her daughter’s face -that familiar guilt of all we do is hurt the people around us reverberating between her and Paige- Azzi knows there’s no going back.

“We should talk,” Paige says finally, her voice small as she looks at Azzi, “please.”

Azzi swallows as she wipes at her tears, ignoring the way Paige’s eyes trace her fingers, like they wish it was her brushing them away instead. She ignores the part of heart that wants that too, wants Paige’s comfort, just wants Paige.

“Yeah, yeah I guess we should,” she says finally, “but um- I should- um,” she gestures towards Stephie’s sleeping body, “should uh- probably put her to bed first.”

“Right- yeah- yeah of course,” Paige nods awkwardly as Azzi reaches to pry Stephie off of her.

The little girl lets out a low sleepy whine, her hands tightening around Paige’s neck, “no Miss Buecks don’t let me go.”

“Stephie,” Azzi’s heart breaks at the fear etched on her daughter’s face, despite being fast asleep, at the idea of being taken away from her Miss Buecks.

“I’ve got you sweetheart,” Paige whispers softly against the little girl’s hair before looking back at Azzi, her eyes swimming with guilt, “I can- I can take her upstairs.”

A part of Azzi wants to say no, wants to start taking out stitches in the places where Stephie and Paige have already sewn themselves together. There’s a part of her that regrets having ever given them the needle in the first place, a part of her that wishes she’d never let her daughter get so attached, when there were so many uncertainties about the strength of the thread between them.

But instead she says, “fine,” as she follows Paige up the stairs, heart constricting at the softness with which the other woman holds her little girl.

“Put her in one of the guest rooms,” Azzi calls out quietly when Paigs starts to turn into her own room.

The blonde stops in her tracks, turning around to face Azzi and she has to look away when she sees the stricken expression on Paige’s face. They were meant to be having a sleepover. The night was supposed to end with the three of them curled in Paige’s bed, supposedly watching some random movie but in actuality, Stephie would have dosed off in the middle of it and Paige and Azzi, with their hands entwined over the little girl’s body, would have spent the rest of it talking about everything and nothing. That’s how it was meant to go; it was meant to have been just another night like any of the other ones they’d spent together the last couple of weeks. But now that normalcy seems like an out of reach fairytale.

“Az-” Paige tries to argue but there isn’t much fight in it and just the slight defeated shake of Azzi’s head is enough to have the older woman biting her lip and doing as she’s asked.

Azzi hangs back by the doorway as Paige gently places Stephie down on the bed, pulling up the moss green covers over the little girl’s body. It feels wrong, Azzi thinks, as her mind drifts back to a few moments ago when Stephie had been cuddled in Paige’s purple bedsheets; that had felt right, like a place her daughter could truly belong. She shuffles her feet nervously as she watches Paige caress Stephie’s cheeks before pressing her lips against the little girl’s forehead.

“I love you Miss Buecks,” Azzi hears Stephie mutter and she digs her fingernails into her palms.

Paige lets out a quiet whimper, shuddering slightly as she echoes the words back, “I love you more Stephie-bean.”

That should be enough, Azzi thinks, it should be enough that Stephie loves Paige and Paige loves Stephie to keep them together. And it’s not fair that it isn’t but if there’s anyone that knows that sometimes love isn’t quite enough to keep two people together, it’s Azzi. There’s too much there, too much history and she’d been naive to think the past wouldn’t cast a dark shadow on her present.

The walk back downstairs feels like it takes an eternity; like they’re climbing back down from a tall mountain. Azzi walks ahead of Paige and she can feel the blonde’s gaze lingering on her back, can practically feel the tension vibrating off of her body at the prospect of the talk they’re about to have. Drew stands at the bottom of the stairs, nervously pacing with his hands stuffed in his pocket. His eyes move up to meet Azzi’s when she finally reaches the last step and he looks a lot like the little boy who’d once accidentally spilled a glass of water all over one of her favorite books. He has that same guilty look he’d had back then when he’d apologized profusely, swearing he’d save up all his pocket money just to buy her another one.

“I’m sorry,” Drew says in a rush, “I didn’t know you guys were coming back down and I didn’t know Stephie was gonna hear that-any of that. I swear Azzi- you know I wouldn’t have said any of that shit if I knew she was gonna hear-”

“It’s fine Drew,” Azzi reassures him, hesitating slightly before reaching out a hand to gently pat his cheek and she’s relieved when he doesn’t immediately back away, “I know you didn’t mean to.”

Drew lets out a small sigh of relief, “okay good cause I really didn’t. I uh-” his gaze flutters between Paige and Azzi, “I’ll um- I’ll let you guys talk now,” he pauses in front of Paige, who looks about as miserable as Azzi feels, “love you no matter what Paigey,” he whispers before giving her a quick peck on her forehead and squeezing her shoulder.

And then it’s just the two of them and the heavy burden of everything they can no longer ignore.

***

April 2027

Azzi grips the armrest tightly, her eyes screwed shut as the plane shakes rapidly while preparing to land. For someone who’s pretty-well travelled and has dealt with her fair share of turbulent plane rides, Azzi still finds herself going ridgid every time an aircraft she’s on starts getting a little too bumpy. She can practically hear Paige’s teasing voice -even after all this time- calling her a big baby but the blonde would have laced their fingers together anyway, distracted her with some random story and she’d have held on to her hand -no matter how sweaty- until the plane stopped moving.

God, Azzi misses her so fucking much.

But hopefully she won’t have to for much longer. Azzi’s not quite sure what’ll happen after she lands in Dallas, hasn’t -in a very un-Azzi-like step- even really practiced what she wants to say. But, and she knows it’s a little dramatic but she thinks she can probably come up with a mix of apologizing, begging for forgiveness and declaring her undying love that would atleast get Paige to consider giving her another chance.

There’s this hollow ache in her chest that hasn’t gone away for the last two years. And Azzi had tried to ignore it, had tried to shift her focus to everything else -everything good- that was happening in her life. But even after she’d had an All-American last season at UConn, even after she’d let that team to a back-to-back national championship, even after she’d been the first pick of the 2026 draft to GSV, even after she’d won rookie of the year, there was a still lingering pain -a deep rooted sense of something she’d lost- etched through her whole body. The thing is that Azzi knows she can survive -can even succeed- without Paige- but she doesn’t want to. Not anymore.

The decision was a long-time coming, the inevitable leap of faith to chase after what she wanted most in the world. But it had all clicked into place at the most mundane of times. She’d been at the park on her regular morning run and she’d seen a family -two women who’d looked at each other like they’d stop breathing if they looked away and their beautiful baby girl who was happily swinging in between them- and suddenly everything else had felt so insignificant in comparison. She’d been forced to admit the truth she’d been trying so hard to run away from. That was the future Azzi wanted -perhaps not immediately but eventually- and she wanted it with Paige.

Azzi hadn’t let herself overthink it, knowing that if she gave herself enough time, she’d more than likely talk herself out of it. Instead, she’d booked the tickets from San Francisco to Dallas in a rush and then called Ice -the newly anointed Dallas Wing rookie- and it hadn’t taken much to convince her former teammate - who’d all but squealed at the idea of her ‘parents getting back together’- to pick her up from the airport and drive her straight to Paige’s.

“She’s gonna be so happy,” Ice had assured her, “I mean I’ve only been here like a week but I know for sure she misses you Az. Oh my god this is so exciting,” and Azzi had laughed as she’d listened to the sound of her friend giddily clapping, “I’m so excited for the two of you. You belong together.”

A serene smile crosses Azzi’s face, and she knows it must look a little ridiculous just smiling to herself like this, but all she can think about is that she’d be with Paige soon. And she’s not naive enough to think that everything would miraculously be okay; she knows just how deeply her rejection must have pierced into Paige’s soul. But if the other woman gives her the chance, Azzi’s ready to spend an eternity making it up to her.

She sucks in a deep breath as the wheels of the plane collide with the runway, her eyes crinkling slightly as she realizes the weather app had lied to her and instead of the ambient evening she’d expected, it’s torrential downpour outside. In hindsight, maybe that should have been her first sign. But for now, Azzi smiles at the raindrops trickling down the window, clichéd memories of kissing in the rain -”baby come on, it's romantic, who cares if we get sick”- flooding her brain.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Dallas Fort Worth International Airport. The time outside is currently 7 pm in the evening. We hope you had a good flight and on behalf of Delta Airlines, we wish you a pleasant stay,” the pilot’s voice croons throughout the speakers as Azzi fidgets with her necklace, her last Christmas gift from Paige.

Just a little while longer baby. I’m coming to you. Forever.

***

The nerves she’d kept at bay hit Azzi all at once as soon as she climbs into Ice’s car; the thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong barrage into her mind as she watches the windshield wipers furiously fight against the rain. What if Paige doesn’t wanna see her? What if Paige isn’t willing to give her another chance? What if Paige hates her?

“Dude,” Ice groans, briefly looking away from the road to flick Azzi’s arm, “I can literally hear you thinking. Chill the fuck out!”

“I’m trying,” Azzi whines, leaning her head against the cool window, “Fuck, Ice what if this is the dumbest shit I’ve ever done in my life? What if she sees me and is like ‘what the fuck are you doing here,’ what if she tells me go home? Oh my god Ice why the fuck did you let me do this?”

“Let you?” Ice splutters indignantly, “oh no no no. You are not putting this on me. You didn’t even let me say anything when you called. It was literally ‘hey Ice, I’m coming to Dallas, make sure you pick me up in 6 hours okay thanks’ and next thing I know you’re in Dallas,” the younger girl mimics the phone-call as Azzi continues to groan.

“This is why I leave the spontaneous shit up to Paige,” she says, stressfully rubbing her face.

“Yeah but-” Ice gives her a lopsided grin, her tone softening considerably, “she’s gonna love that you did this for her Az. Trust me dude- the two of you- you’re meant to be. Everyone’s always known that. She’s gonna be so fucking happy to see you.”

“Thank Icey,” Azzi says softly, dragging in another deep breath, “I needed to hear that.”

“Any time Az, any time,” Ice reaches over to squeeze her hand and Azzi finally lets herself relax into her seat.

The rest of the car ride consists of reminiscing their time at UConn -it’s strange to think that they’re both alums now- and Ice telling Azzi stories about her move from Connecticut to Texas. Anticipation builds in Azzi’s stomach as she glances at the GSP, eyes fixating on the ‘3 minutes till your destination’ bubble on the bottom left corner.

Her destination.

Azzi thinks no matter how much she’d tried to fight, no matter how much she’d tried to turn and walk the other way, all roads were always meant to lead here. Paige was always meant to be her final destination. She’s not one for fairytales, doesn’t think life began with once upon a time, but as Ice’s car comes to halt opposite the blonde’s apartment, Azzi hopes that her life has a happily ever after where she and Paige get to write the ending of their stories together.

“We’re here,” Ice says slowly, smiling ear to ear as she turns towards Azzi, “go get your girl.”

“Okay, okay-” Azzi whispers to herself, “you’ve got this Azzi. Just fall to your knees and tell her you’re sorry and that you love her,” she shoves Ice when the younger girl snorts at her little pep talk and then breathes in deeply, “it’s gonna be okay. I’ve got this. I’ve got this!”

“You’ve got this,” Ice affirms, forever a supportive child.

Taking one more breath, Azzi’s just about to step outside, when she sees her. Paige is walking, almost running towards her apartment. Despite the rain, in typical Paige-fashion, the blonde doesn’t have an umbrella. Strands of wet hair are plastered against her forehead and little droplets of rain cascade down her face and neck. Her shirt sticks to her body so that Azzi can see the definition of her abs and the younger woman would love to take a moment to appreciate just how fucking hot Paige looks but instead, her eyes follow the bulge of the blonde’s biceps down to where her hands are interlocked with someone else’s. Someone else who’s not Azzi.

She gasps for air but she swears it’s carbon dioxide that settles in her lungs instead because god, does it burn.

Paige is laughing, eyes twinkling as she and a beautiful woman -a beautiful woman who isn’t Azzi- race to get out of the rain. She hears Ice curse behind her, sounding just as confused as she feels as the two of them watch the scene unfold in front of them, watching Paige and the woman come to halt right in front of the blonde’s apartment building.

“Az maybe we should-”

“Who is that?” Azzi cuts Ice off, her eyes still transfixed on the two smiling women.

Ice sighs, “her name’s Olivia. She’s a reporter for the Dallas Morning News-”

“And who is she to Paige?” Azzi asks bitterly, as if she doesn’t know the answer, as if the way Paige is wrapping an arm around that woman’s waist isn’t enough of an answer in itself.

“I don’t know. Azzi I swear I didn’t know she had a-” Ice hesitates, “she hasn’t told me anything about another woman.

Azzi doesn’t say anything, hand tightly gripping the car door she hadn’t even had a chance to open as she watches Paige brush a loose strand of hair out of the woman’s face.

The tip of the dagger pierces against her heart.

The woman smiles at Paige as she wraps her arms around the blonde’s neck and now they’re pressed flush against each other, barely any space between them.

The dagger digs deeper.

Paige caresses the woman’s cheeks.

The dagger twists.

It happens in slow motion; Paige moving ever so slowly as she presses her lips against the woman’s.

And the dagger lodges itself somewhere so deep inside Azzi, she thinks it might be permanently entrenched inside her soul.

It’s funny, Azzi thinks as she watches the two women break apart -their hands intertwining again as they start walking into the apartment- anyone else watching this scene would perhaps think of it as something straight out of a romantic comedy. But to Azzi, it feels like the climax scene of a tragedy.

“Can you take me back to the airport?” she says slowly, still watching Paige’s retreating back.

“What- no Azzi I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ice disagrees immediately, “c’mon we’ll go back to my place and I swear I have some good vodka left over from my housewarming party-”

“Ice please,” Azzi begs, her voice hoarse, “I just wanna go home. Please.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever you say Azzi,” Ice concedes softly, already starting to pull away from the curb.

“You can’t tell her about this, you know that right?”

“Az-”

“No Ice. She’s moved on and she’s allowed to move on,” the words feel like thorns on the tip of her tongue, “she looks happy. I won’t ruin that. You can’t tell her. You can’t ever tell her.”

“Fine,” Ice nods reluctantly, “I won’t say anything.”

Azzi allows herself one more look back at the apartment, allows herself one more second to dream of Paige running back outside, spotting her and telling her that all of this is just one big misunderstanding, telling her that she hasn’t found someone else, telling her that she’s still Azzi’s. But dreams aren’t reality. No, reality is the fact that Paige looked happy, looked happy with someone that wasn’t Azzi. And even if that damn fucking dagger -sharpened with the image of Paige and someone else- is making her bleed out, Azzi thinks that her heart will still a find way to keep beating, as long as she knows that Paige is happy.

***

The almost two thousand dollar last-minute flight back to San Francisco passes by in a blur. Azzi feels like she’s sleep-walking as she gets into the uber, pressing play on a voice message Ice had left her from after she’d gotten on the plane.

“Azzi please text or call me as soon as you land. I’m really worried about you dude. I’m so fucking sorry. I had no idea. I texted Adam after -he’s a team manager that’s really close with Paige- and I guess she and Olivia have been dating since the end of the season last year but Paige is keeping it highkey on the DL like the team barely knows and I swear Az- I didn’t know. Fuck please don’t do anything stupid Azzi. Text me as soon as you hear this and then just- just go home and sleep and call me tomorrow morning. I love you Az, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Since the end of the season, Azzi thinks slowly, her brain still a fuddled mess. That meant that Paige had been with someone for almost eight months. And Azzi knows she has no right to feel this hurt, let alone feel that tiny spark of betrayal that’s lingering underneath it. She’s the one that had let go; it’s only natural that Paige would eventually find someone else to hold on to.

“Where to Miss?” the uber driver asks as Azzi’s typing out a short ‘landed’ text to Ice.

It’s almost two in the morning and sleep prickles against Azzi’s eyes, her body feeling barely functional but the urge to just forget is stronger than the wave of tiredness washing over her body. And so she ignores every good instinct she has and instead of giving the cab drive her home address, Azzi tells him to drive to the nearest bar instead.

It’s a heat-of-the-moment decision -taken as sordid images of Paige wrapped around another woman cloud her ability to think- and she doesn’t know it’s about to change the trajectory of her whole life.

***

May 2033

The silence in the living room is deafening as Paige and Azzi find themselves sitting on opposite sides of the sofa. Azzi’s fingers tap against her thighs; resisting the impulse to reach over and touch the other girl, comfort her and be comforted in return. This night has felt like one of the longest in her life, all the hits falling like dominoes with the two of them at the end of the line. And perhaps it’s the way she’s starting to feel the bruises now as she absorbs everything that’s happened tonight that has her thinking fuck it and turning to Paige with a pleading look on her face.

“Can you just-” Azzi hesitates as she scooches just slightly closer to the other woman who regards the movement with wide eyes, “I know- I know we have to talk and we will but I just- it’s been a long night and I’m just so fucking tired and I just- I miss you-” she says and she’s not sure how it’s possible when Paige has been here the whole night but it’s the truth, “and I just- can you just hold me? Please?”

Paige is so still that for a moment Azzi thinks maybe she’s asked for too much but then the older woman is moving -so fast like she’s scared the brunette will change her mind- and Azzi feels herself being lifted sideways onto Paige’s lap. The blonde’s grip is iron tight as Azzi buries her head into the crevice of her neck, breathing in the smell of all things Paige. She reaches her hand out gently, placing it against the older woman’s chest, trying to stabilize the two of them to the steady beat of Paige’s heart as the other woman rubs her hand up and down Azzi’s back. They stay like that for god knows how long and Azzi wishes she could just keep them like this forever, in each other’s arms.

But they need to talk.

And Azzi reluctantly untangles herself Paige, closing her eyes when the blonde lets out a soft whimper. She doesn’t move all the way to the other end of the sofa this time; choosing instead to sit right next to Paige with their legs pressed togethers and it’s not nearly enough -too little when all she wants is to be consumed by Paige- but at least it’s something.

“I was going to tell you tonight,” Paige starts slowly, “you remember in the car when I said I would explain the whole Angie thing to you, well that- that’s part of this whole mess.”

Azzi furrows her eyebrows, “Angie? What does- what does she have to do with this?”

“I’ll get there okay- just- just let me start from the beginning,” Paige says nervously, “just listen okay.”

Biting her lip, Azzi nods, signaling for the older woman to continue.

“I didn’t want to come to GSV-”

“Because of me?”

Paige sighs, “yes. It- it just- it felt like such a bad idea at the time. You broke my heart Az,” she shoots Azzi an apologetic look when she flinches at the bluntness of it, “and coming here- being around you- I was scared it was gonna be a reminder of that all the time. Every time I’ve seen you these last couple of years Az- it’s hurt. And I just didn’t- I couldn’t live with that every day.”

It’s not something Azzi wants to here but she understands it; she’d felt the exact same way when Colleen had first told her about GSV being interested in Paige.

“But more than anything,” Paige continues, “I was scared that coming here meant giving you a chance to do it again. Because the two of us being together for more than just a fleeting moment- well it felt inevitable that something would happen and I was just so scared that it would be something bad. And so I fought Talia every step of the way until she forced me to come here and I met Stephie,” a soft smile flitters across the blonde’s face, “and she just- she said I’d look good in purple.”

Azzi laughs, “and that’s all it took huh?”

“You know me. A little bit of flattery will get you everywhere,” Paige grins, “but it wasn’t just her,” she nudges Azzi, “it was you. I was so sure you were gonna tell me to turn it down, tell me that there was no way this was gonna work. But you didn’t. You’re always surprising me I guess. Baby you said you wanted me on your team and that was it for me. No matter how much I said I needed time to think or whatever, as soon as you asked me to come here, I knew I was a Valkyrie.”

“I lied to Colleen that it was for the team,” Azzi admits, “think I even lied to myself about it that I wanted you here to help us win a championship. And yeah maybe that was a little bit of it but I just-” she looks down shyly at her lap, “I just wanted you. Here. With me.”

They’re quiet for a little bit, letting their confession dangle in the air until Azzi breaks it, her mind back to focusing on the revelation from before, “I don’t get it then Paige- what was Drew talking about then? What is this whole plan thing with the Liberty? Being in New York by October? I know your contract is for a year but I just-” she shrugs, “I just assumed you were gonna renew with us so where- where does New York even come into play in all of this? I’m just- I’m just so confused.”

Paige chews at her bottom lip and fidgets with her fingers, two tell-tale signs of her nerves as she keep her gaze firmly away from meeting Azzi’s, “I guess- I guess all my fighting against GSV got through to Talia and after I’d made up my mind to sign with the Valkyries, she- she figured out a verbal deal with the Liberty. They didn’t- they didn’t have the money for me this year but next year with Sabrina retiring- next year they will and GSV knew they were gonna get Angie to be their point guard of the future and it all just- it all made sense. I’d stay here for a year, mentor Angie so she could be my replacement for next year and then I’d-”

“Then you’d leave,” Azzi says bitterly and this time it’s Paige who flinches, “but you said- you said Stephie and I convinced you to come here- so- so what? We only convinced you to come for a year?” she asks, her tone sharper than she intended it to be.

“No it wasn’t- it wasn’t like that,” Paige tries to justify, “I just- it scared me how easy it was for me to be convinced. It was one moment with Stephie- one moment with you- and I was ready to make a decision for my future based just off of those two little moments. Do you know how scary that is? And I knew- I knew that coming here- being around the two of you would just- it would make me fall so fucking fast -and it has- and I was just so scared that I’d get my heart broken again and I just- I needed an escape plan.”

“You needed an excuse to leave us,” Azzi says venomously.

“That’s not fair Azzi,” Paige says quietly, “you have to understand how afraid I was of history repeat itself Az,” she reaches for the younger woman’s hand, enveloping it between her own, “when I lost you the first time, I was so fucking broken and it took me so long to fix myself- I- I don’t even know if I did ever fully fix me. You can’t blame me for being scared of having to go through it again.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second before she finally lets out a sigh because Paige is right and she can’t- she won’t hold whatever decision the other woman had made before they’d found their way back to each other, against her.

“Okay. Okay. I- I get it. I get why you were scared. I get why you had a whole backup plan and-,” she grins teasingly at the blonde, “and now I also get why you were such a bitch to Angie.”

Paige laughs a little, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s and closing her eyes, letting themselves melt into a comfortable silence as they bask in each other’s presence and for a moment’s Azzi feels floaty and free until Drew’s words replay themselves inside her head.

“Paige,” she says slowly, earning a little hum of acknowledgement from the other woman, “it’s over now though right? The deal- you- you’re gonna tell the Liberty that it’s off? No more New York right? Not even as an escape plan?”

The blonde stiffens, her eyes opening immediately.

“Paige,” Azzi presses, lifting her forehead so she can study the older woman’s face properly, the false comfort of a few seconds ago being replaced by a leaden pit in her stomach.

“I- I don’t know,” Paige whispers, so quietly that it takes a couple of seconds for Azzi’s ears to even pick it up. But when it does finally register -the repeat of what she’d said to Stephie- it feels like something’s slowly cracking inside Azzi, until the cracks get larger and larger and something shatters, the pieces of it lodging themselves in every organ of her body.

“You don’t-” Azzi swallows, pulling her hands out Paige’s, “you don’t know?”

“Az-”

“No,” Azzi holds her hand out in a stop sign as Paige tries to grab for her, “how- how can you not know,” she keeps speaking even when the blonde tries to reply, “Paige you- you were the one who pushed for this. You were the one who begged- who convinced me to try. Why- why would you do that? What have we been doing for the last few weeks Paige if you’re still thinking about leaving at the end of the season? God Paige- how can you even say that you don’t know?”

“I thought I did,” Paige bumbles out, “these past few weeks have been everything to me Azzi and I thought I knew but tonight- everything Drew said-” she stops suddenly and Azzi knows whatever the young man had said isn't something Paige wants to repeat back to her.

“What did Drew say?”

Paige hesitates, “he thinks you’re gonna break my heart and that I’ll lose you and that I’ll-” she clutches her throat like the next words are physically painful to say, “that I’ll lose Stephie.”

“And you- you think he’s right?”

There’s heartbreak etched all over Paige’s face as she shrugs helplessly, “you’ve done it before Az. You let me go. You- you said no-”

“And you’re one who left,” Azzi bursts out, tears cascading down her face as she rises to her feet.

Paige guffaws up at her, “what?”

“I know I said no but you left literally the next fucking day before I could say anything else. God Paige, I know I fucked up and I know that it’s mainly my fault. Trust me I’ve regretted it every single day,” Azzi sobs, “but you- you left Paige. I know I let you go but you didn’t hold on to me either. You just- you left.”

“Azzi-”

“I understand why you had an escape plan before,” Azzi says, wiping away her tears, “but I can’t be with you if you still have one now. Especially not when Stephie’s involved. She’s already so fucking attached and if you can’t promise not to leave her then I- I can’t let her get anymore attached. I can’t watch my baby girl cry like she did tonight- not again Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige says again, like it's the only word she knows; the only word that matters.

Azzi falls to her knees in front of the other woman, wrapping her hands around Paige’s tightly wounded fists.

“I get that you’re scared and I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel like heartbreak is inevitable with me,” she presses a kiss against the blonde’s knuckles, “but Paige I- I can’t- live like this, I can’t live knowing that you could leave me -leave us- any second. I need you to trust me, I need you to believe in us and I need you to tell me you’ll stay. And if you can’t do that then-”

“Please don’t say it,” Paige breathes out, her shoulders radiating with tension.

Azzi stands back up slowly, delicately placing her lips against the older woman’s forehead. She feels Paige shudder under her touch as she tries to put every little bit of emotion, every little bit of please choose me, please choose us, please choose to stay, into that kiss.

“Just- just think about it- sleep on it I guess. Take your time Paige but I- I need more than ‘I don’t know’ as an answer,” she says finally, the words lingering between them as she brushes away a couple of strands of the blonde’s hair before letting out a sigh as she puts some space between them, “I should go.”

Paige’s fingers immediately wrap around her wrist as the other woman blinks up at Azzi with pleading eyes, “don’t go-”

“Paige-”

“It’s late. Stephie’s asleep. Just- just stay.”

You stay, Azzi wants to scream because how can Paige ask her to do the one thing that the older woman herself is scared to do. But she’s exhausted and driving home -to a house that’s entrenched with the memories of the last few weeks but wouldn’t have Paige in it- sounds like something dreadful. And so she nods, shooting Paige another longing look before she heads towards the staircase.

“Az,” she hears the other woman call out just as she’s about to climb onto the first step, making her stop and turn her head over her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“You know right? You know that- that I-” Paige gulps, “you know that I lo-”

“No,” Azzi says immediately, shaking her head rapidly, “say it to me when you can tell me you’ll stay.”

***

May 2027

Azzi taps her foot incessantly against the hardwood floor as her gaze nervously flitters towards the front of the restaurant, where a man in a light blue polo shirt and dark jeans has just walked in, his own eyes scanning the premises in search of someone. She has the ridiculous urge to shrink in her seat, to hide away from his wandering eyesight as if he’s not the reason she’s here in the first place. Taking a deep breath and counting to ten Mississippis, Azzi finally raises her hand, trying to wave him over.

“Tristan,” she calls out, attempting to arrange her features into a smile to match his when the man in question finally spots her.

“Hey,” Tristan choruses, his eyes twinkling as he slips into the seat opposite Azzi, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kinda shocked you called. Not that I’m not happy- I mean, who wouldn’t be happy if a pretty girl called but I- I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Azzi tries to give him a humorous grin, “so you just gave me your number expecting nothing?”

She’s trying to make a joke but it comes out flat and she hopes he can’t read just how uncomfortable she is; won’t call her out for the uneasiness that she knows is radiating off of her.

“Expecting? No. Hoping? Definitely,” Tristan smirks and Azzi’s reminded of the charm he’d exuded that night in the bar.

The memory makes her want to throw up- well she supposes it’s probably not just the memory but also her little situation. She regards the man in front of her warily; he’s not bad to look at and at first glance he doesn’t exude any major red flags. And she’s almost ready to give her way-too-fucking-drunk past self a pat on the back because she'd made multiple dumb-as-fuck decisions that night -exhibit a: fucking a random stranger in a bar while mourning her ex- but at least she’d had the sense not to choose a complete psychopath.

“Well I called,” she announces awkwardly.

Tristan raises an eyebrow, “it’s been a whole month.”

Azzi bites her lip, “better late than never?”

The man in front of her snorts, “I suppose so but honestly I wasn’t expecting you to call at all. I mean- I figured you’d have gotten back together with your ex.”

That causes Azzi to suck in a sharp breath, her fingers digging crescent shaped scars into her palms.

“I mean,” Tristan continues, oblivious to the way his words cut into the woman in front of him, “you just- you sounded like you really loved her and the way you talked about your relationship- it just- it sounded so perfect and I know I don’t know her and I know- I know you mentioned she was seeing someone else but you just- your relationship like- that shit sounded unbeatable and so I just- I guess I just assumed that if you wanted her back- she’d want you back-”

“She’s engaged,” Azzi says loudly and it would be comical how quickly that shuts Tristan up if it wasn’t for the fact that saying those words out loud, feels like shooting an arrow into her own heart. She can still see the engagement announcement floating behind her eyes; can still so clearly see the pictures of Paige down on one knee for a woman who was beaming down at her, for someone who had said yes.

“Oh,” Tristan’s saved from having to say anything more when the waiter appears with a menu.

“What can I get you guys today?” the waitress asks cheerfully.

“Just the salmon for me please,” Azzi says, still a little lost in her thoughts.

“And for you sir?” the waitress turns to Tristan after jotting down Azzi’s order.

“I will have the chicken with a waldorf salad on the side but with no nuts please; I’m allergic to most nuts,” Tristan responds politely as the waitress nods and starts to walk away but it’s the last part that perks Azzi’s ears up.

“You’re allergic to nuts? Is that like- is that genetic?” she asks.

Tristan seems a little taken back by her curiosity of his allergy but he nods his head yeah and Azzi pencils that little fact into her brain, figuring it would be an important tidbit to share with her doctor.

“So your ex is engaged,” Tristan repeats, looking apologetic when his bluntness makes Azzi flinch but it’s replaced by a smirk as he lounges back in his seat, “so you called me for what? A rebound? I mean look Az, you’re a gorgeous girl but only being called for a rebound might just give a guy a complex.”

She knows he’s trying to be suave -charming even- but instead all it does is give her the ick and Azzi’s reminded of why she’d avoided men since her mistake of a boyfriend back in her senior year of high school. Hell, she’d only dated him because she and Paige had been trying their hands at another attempt of being just friends and the blonde was dating some pretty girl. But he’d been the first and last man she’d ever been with -which wasn’t surprising considering it had taken her and Paige only a year after to finally get together- until that night at the bar.

Azzi barely remembers anything about that night beyond flashes of memories but she remembers the morning after clearly, remembers the regret that had coiled itself around her ribs. She’d practically run out of the hotel room, barely managing to keep the tears at bay in the back of the uber. She hadn’t even made it to her bedroom, breaking down in the middle of her living room floor as everything that had happened the night before -seeing Paige with someone else, being with someone else- hit her like an avalanche. Azzi doesn’t know how long she’d sat in a sobbing mess on the floor but at some point she must have fallen asleep, because her next memory is Colleen towering over her, a look of pure concern on her bestfriend’s face as she shook her awake. And then she was crying again, this time wrapped in the comfort of Colleen’s arm as she let the regret of all her mistakes -from the past and the present- flow down her cheeks.

All she’d wanted after, was to just forget about the night -forget the image of Paige kissing a stranger, forget the image of herself walking up next to a stranger- and for a little while, the world had even granted her that wish. That was until a mandatory pre-season checkup had given her news that would make sure she’d never forget that night.

“Azzi?” Tristan clicks his fingers in front of her face to get her attention, “you still with me?”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to come back to reality instead of staying lost in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she finally puts into words the truth that has become the epicenter of her world.

“I’m pregnant.”

Tristan stares at her with a shell-shocked look on his face, his eyes unblinking and wide as his mouth slowly morphs into a ‘O’ shape, “you’re- you’re pregnant?”

“Yes,” Azzi nods, her tone shifting from nervous into something more businesslike, “and before you ask, yes it’s definitely yours. But you don’t have to feel pressured to be involved beyond whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m more than financially capable of taking care of a child by myself and I’m very lucky to have a great support system in my friends and family so I’m not depending on you for any-”

“You’re keeping it?” Tristan cuts her off, sounding almost disbelieving that, that was the choice she was making.

Azzi stops at his words, tongue darting out to wet her lips. She’d gone back and forth with the decision from the minute she’d found out. Most of the factors in Azzi’s life pointed towards an abortion being the best thing for her. She was an athlete at the beginning of the peak of her career and she was only 25 years old, a young adult who’d just started this journey of life. For all her responsibleness, Azzi was still figuring out how to take care of herself. How could she possibly take care of a baby?

She’d been just about to call Dr. Myers when instead her phone had opened to the instagram app; Paige’s engagement announcement the first thing on her feed.

There’d been a thousand and one emotions that burst through Azzi but she’d fixated specifically one of them; loneliness. It was a ridiculous thing to feel for a girl whose family had moved across the country for her; whose best friend had become her manager and followed her to a brand new state. But Azzi felt it every time she was alone, sometimes even when she was surrounded by hundreds of people. She was so fucking lonely.

And that’s when she’d decided she wanted this baby, a baby she could love and a baby who’d love her back, a baby who would fill this aching whole in her heart. A baby that would be hers.

Azzi would never be lonely again.

“Yes,” she answers Tristan’s question without a hint of hesitation, “I’m keeping the baby.”

“Wow- okay- this is- sorry,” Tristan shakes his head, his previous casual demeanour having changed to something far more rigid, “this is just- it’s a lot to process.”

“I understand,” Azzi says gently, “take your time.”

Tristant stares down at the table for what feels like an eternity and when he looks up, well, Azzi doesn’t really know the man in front of her at all- hasn’t even had the chance to ask him his last name, but she knows what the guilt in his eyes means. She remembers seeing it when she’d met her own biological father, only once, only for an hour and never again but a snapshot of it has been saved to her brain ever since.

“I’m sorry,” he says, standing up from the table, “I can’t do this. I’m not ready to be a father. I can’t have a baby. Fuck me. I’m barely an adult. I can’t take care of a child. I’m sorry, I just- I can’t.”

“I understand,” Azzi replies clinically even though her stomach lurches a little at the rejection, at the realization that her child would grow up with the ever-present question of why didn’t he stay, just like she had.

Azzi hadn’t called Tristan for lunch with the intent of getting anything out of it. The plan had simply been to do her due diligence by telling the father of her child that she was pregnant. After that, the decision would be in his hands and she’d made peace with the fact this -what had just happened- could be one of the outcomes. She hadn’t come here under the guise of reconnecting, finding a husband or any of that, not when, even thinking of any of that -despite the fact that Paige is engaged to someone else- feels a little bit like cheating. But Tristan's response still stings.

Because he might not have been her first option to raise a child with-really she’d only ever wanted any of that with one person- but Azzi thinks if he’d wanted to try, she would’ve liked having a partner to watch her child grow up with

“I’m sorry. I’m really, really, really sorry,” Tristan repeats again as he starts to back away, “I wish you-” his eyes flicker down to her stomach, “I wish both of you the best.”

Azzi nods, “thank you,” and the words of gratitude are for a little more than just his best wishes.

Tristan pauses for one second, hesitating as he looks at Azzi's belly one more time with an indecipherable emotion in his eyes, something a little like regret. But it’s not enough to make him stay and Azzi watches, with a hand on her stomach, as he turns walks out of the restaurant. Through the window, she watches him walking down the street, getting smaller and smaller until he rounds the curb, disappearing out of sight. And Azzi lets out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding.

“Oh,” her head snaps towards the waitress, who’s carrying two plates of food and looking awkwardly at Tristan’s abandoned seat, “your uh- your friend- where is he?”

“He’s gone,” Azzi says quietly.

“Is he coming back?”

“No,” Azzi shakes her head, “no, I don’t think he is.”

***

May 2033

The memory burns against the back of Azzi’s eyelids as she lies, wide awake, in Paige’s guest room with Stephie tightly snuggled against her chest. She’s not sure what exactly had triggered the memory because honestly, she doesn’t think about Stephie’s father -her sperm donor to be more accurate- that often. He’d existed for a mere second in the clock of her life, disappearing almost as fast as he’d appeared. But there’s a part of Azzi that will always be thankful to him, because he’s part of the reason she has this beautiful little girl who’s sleeping in her arms.

A little girl who she loves and who loves her back, a little girl who’d filled the aching hole in her heart. A little girl, that was hers.

And Azzi hasn’t been lonely ever since she’d been handed her little girl.

Until tonight.

Her eyes drift to the other side of the bed and she can’t help but focus on just how empty it looks, can help but be immersed in the feeling of something’s missing. It’s the first night in weeks that the other side of the bed isn’t filled and everything about it feels so fucking wrong. Azzi sighs, resting her cheek on Stephie’s head as she rubs her hand up and down the little girl’s shoulder. She can’t sleep and she knows -by the little telltale frown on her daughter’s face- that the little girl might be asleep, but it’s the kind that’s deeply troubled.

She’s just about to close her eyes for another unsuccessful attempt at letting her exhaustion lull her into a slumber, when she hears the sound of footsteps right outside her door. Azzi rises up slowly, gently disentangling herself from Stephie as she squints through the little gap between the door and the floor. It doesn’t take a genius to know who it is and Azzi’s heart thumps anticipation as she watches the shadow of feet pacing back and forth. Suddenly they disappear and disappointment -even it’s ridiculous to feel it after the events of the night- courses through Azzi. Sighing to herself again, she lays back down, closing her eyes.

A minute later they shoot open at the sound of the door being pushed and Azzi sits back up again, something like relief -something like i’m so glad you’re here, i'm so glad you came back please don’t ever go again- rushing into her veins. It takes a second for her eyes to adjust to the sight of the figure in the dark but once they do, Paige is practically illuminated by the moonlight streaking through the windows. The blonde looks at her, not a speckle of shock at the fact that she’s awake because Paige knows her, knows her the way Azzi had known Paige was awake too, knows that they’d never been particularly good at falling asleep after an argument.

“Can’t sleep,” Paige admits out loud in a whisper, nervously shuffling her feet by the doorway.

“Me neither,” Azzi confesses, her hands brushing through Stephie’s hair.

Their revelations -and the i can’t sleep because i can’t sleep without you hidden behind them- hang in the air, waiting for the two of them to say anything else as they stare at each other in the dark room.

Paige speaks first, stumbling towards the bed, “can I just-”

“Yes,” Azzi breathes out before the question’s even finished, “please.”

Despite the urgency in their words, Paige is slow, climbing into bed, like she’s waiting for Azzi to take it back. The blonde slips underneath the covers, her hands immediately moving to rub Stephie’s back where they collide against Azzi’s fingers and that lightest bit of contact elicits a breathy gasp from both of them. There’s so much still left to say, so much still left to fix, so much they’re not sure can be fixed, but as Azzi slowly lies back down, her fingers interlocking with Paige’s over Stephie’s tiny body, she thinks that she might not survive, if these fleeting moments don’t lead to forever.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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wooyoungiewritings · 1 year ago

Text

A "First" Date - Yunho x Reader

Summary: Your best friend Yunho and you always find dates for each other, trying to help each other out with love. You always try to find the best ones for each other, but one day, Yunho sets you up with his “friend”, and you quickly realize that your best friend wants to prove a point. And maybe he actually knows you better than you think - in multiple ways.

Word count: 13.6K

Genre: Fluff, smut (it's so cute but oh gosh so dirty)

warnings: Best friend Yunho with fem reader (fem pronouns). Yunho is *cough* BIG *cough*. YUNHO HANDS, Oral sex, messy blowjob, fingering, dirty talk, light choking, unprotected sex, spit, aftercare, honestly it's one big warning because there's SO MUCH I got carried away. But lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Yunho in any way.

“What happened to the last girl I set you up with?” You ask, looking to your side to see your best friend, Yunho, widening his eyes.

“Are you serious? She wanted to lick my toes in the middle of the restaurant.” He responds with a shiver, “I’m not a kink-shamer, and I respect being open for a foot kink, but I know when things cross my personal line.” He leans further back on the couch as you both stare up at the ceiling, blankly looking at my white loft.

You and Yunho always hung out. It made it even easier having him living in the house next door, so you were practically spending every day together. Since he helped you get your lunch back from a bully when you both were 6, you two had been inseparable, and everyone knew that. Whenever the two of you met someone new, the first initial thought was that you were dating, but the two of you quickly set the record straight. You were just friends.

But people didn’t always believe the two of you, though, thinking that you must hook up secretly, but the truth was that you’ve never done that. You’ve never kissed, never sexually touched each other. But Yunho has been the one person in your life who you always would go to, no matter what you need. A deep talk? Yunho would let you talk your heart out and listen for hours. A hug? He’d drop everything in his hands. He knew everything about you and would gladly hold you close whenever you needed it. He was there to keep you safe from anyone and anything, and he’d gladly do it.

But the thought of Yunho that way wasn’t strange to you either.. He was tall, handsome, respectful, funny.. He was every girl's dream, and whoever would end up with him would win the lottery. So you would lie if you said you hadn’t wondered how he acts around a lover, how his big hands would feel gripping your thigh while he is driving the car, or how he would whisper intimate things in your ear with his deep voice. But you would never admit that to anyone, especially not him.

“What about that marketing guy I set you up with last month?” Yunho’s head turns to you and you immediately shake your head.

“Ooooh, no no no. He showed clear signs of still being in love with his ex and searching for a rebound. I’m not looking for that.” You sigh, at this point losing track of how many failed dates you’ve been on this year.

For the past few months, Yunho and you had helped each other on dates, being each other's wing(wo)man. You were both at a point in your life where you wanted something more serious, so why not get help from the person who knew you the best?

A smile crept up on your lips, wanting to hear his opinion on the thought that just popped into your head.

“I’m still down to a second date with that guy from your old work-” You begin to tell Yunho but he quickly shakes his head before you can finish the sentence.

“Fuck no. You’re not going out with him again.” He spoke like a father to a child who did something rebellious. “He doesn’t treat women well.”

“Well, you set me up on a date with him, so you must have some kind of idea of him and me together.” You tilt your head to the side as he once again shakes his head.

“That was before I knew what kind of person he was. Sending you on a date with him is still my biggest failure in this entire wingman show,” His voice had a hint of humor in it, but his eyes were serious. “If he asks you out again, I hope you say no. And if you don’t, I’ll hunt him down and tell him to leave you alone. End of story.” He relaxed on the couch once again, ending this topic like a strict parent.

And you never had the intention to go out with this guy again. He treated you alright on the date, but the chemistry wasn’t there. And when Yunho found out that the guy he set you up with was a cheater, liar, and borderline mentally abusive, he was quick to end the “relationship” on your behalf. But Yunho never told you what kind of person the guy actually was, he just told you he wasn’t a good person. But that was typical Yunho - he was trying to protect you and didn’t want you to worry too much.

You roll your eyes at his protectiveness. "If you keep scaring my dates away, I'll never find the one." You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Or you should just open your mind up and start seeing the difference between who's a sociopath and who treats you well. Use your critical thinking skills."

“That’s rich coming from someone like you.” You joke, but still with a hint of truth behind it.

“Someone like me?!” He sat up straight on the couch and looked at you with a shocked expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s hard to find someone who matches exactly what you want. That’s all I’m saying.” You put up your hands and leaned back on the couch while he looked at you, still with a confused expression.

“What? I may be critical, but I always give my dates a good time.” His hands find their way behind his head, feeling satisfied with himself. One thing Yunho knew for sure would be that he would never leave a date feeling unsatisfied. Whether it would be him doing a little extra on the date to make them feel special, or them, full on having sex in his car. No matter what, he would take good care of them.

“Well, apparently not, or you would’ve let that girl lick your toes.” Your comment had him rolling his eyes at you.

His tongue clicked. “Oh, shut up,” He shook his head before finding his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. “Speaking of dates, you have a date tomorrow.”

The sudden change of conversation topic left you sitting straight up on the couch, excited to hear more.

“Already? Who is it?” You lean forward towards him to get a look at his phone, but he is quick to send you a glare and push you away from the view of his screen.

“Damn, you nosy..” He scoffed. “It’s one of my good friends. Can’t say more for now.” He darts back at the screen and types something you can’t see while you send him a glare. Not a single glance is being sent in your direction as he’s too busy typing something on his phone.

“Well, alright. Where does he want me to meet him?” You ask as you lean back on the couch.

“I’ll just forward the message he sent me,” A moment after a sound comes from your phone, and you see an address and a time in the message from Yunho. “This one doesn’t have an ex or a thing for toes, so you’re good.” He locks his phone as he sends you a confident smile.

“Perfect.” You smile and mentally prepare yourself for the date tomorrow.

***

Namsan Park (parking lot) 6:30 Tell her to wear something nice and comfortable :)

You keep your eyes on your phone as you make your way toward the location from Yunho’s forwarded message. You weren’t given much information about what you were getting yourself into, but you trusted Yunho. And you showed that by voluntarily meeting a random guy in the park as the sun was slowly setting for the day. The signs weren't too good so far, but you kept an optimistic mindset.

And with you wearing a dress and a thin jacket on top, you start to realize what a mistake you’ve made with your choice of clothing.

The parking lot comes into sight and your heart starts beating faster. It’s always scary meeting someone new for the first time, so of course you were a bit nervous.

As you walk into the parking lot, your eyes start searching for anyone who looks like they are going on a date. A few cars are parked here and there, but no man in sight. Well, that’s before you take a few more steps and see a tall guy next to his black car, back turned to you as he looks at the landscape in front of him.

His hands calmly resting in the pockets of his slack pants, and his black hair looking messy.

Messy hair you’ve seen before. The tall figure. Broad shoulders. The black car.

You stop and look at him, and he turns around with an innocent smile on his face.

“What are you doing here?” The confusion is evident in your voice.

Yunho’s face lights up even more as he makes his way towards you with his hand reaching out.

“You must be Y/n! Hi, I’m Yunho, nice to meet you.” He waits for you to shake his hand but you just look at it before glaring up and into his eyes again. His eyes travel down to your dress, and he instantly knows he has to focus on what he is doing.

He’s taking you out and that’s it. But gosh, he didn’t expect you to look like that in your little black dress that he had never seen before.

“What are you doing?” You try again, hoping he’ll answer why he’s here and why he was acting like this. Where was your date? Was he your date?

His reached-out hand slowly falls to his side as his smile turns a little awkward and a nervous laugh escapes his lips. “Oh, Yunho has told me so much about you, so I thought I’d like to meet you myself and see what a date with you would be like.” He tried clarifying as you realized what was happening. You were actually going on a date with your Yunho. Your best friend. The realization made the smile on your lips freeze, but you couldn’t help but think how unusual he was acting. He was all dressed up, acting like you’ve never met before, and behaved like the two of you hadn’t just hung out yesterday.

Silence filled the air between you as you tried to figure out what was happening. Yunho then left a quick, slightly annoyed sigh before finding his phone in his pocket. “Sorry, I have to make a short phone call.. Excuse me for a moment.”

His back turned to you as he took a few steps away, while he looked down on his phone. Your eyes squint as you watch him bring his phone to his ear. A short moment later, your phone starts buzzing in your hands and Yunho’s name appears on the screen. A giggle leaves your mouth before you accept the call and bring it to your ear.

“Hello?” You answered, looking at Yunho’s back turned towards you a few meters away.

“Hey.. Are you on the date yet?” His voice through the phone was back to normal, and another short laugh escaped through your lips.

“Yes, I just got here.”

“Alright.. Just wanted to let you know that he’s a little nervous, so be kind to him.” His voice was stern like he was actually talking about one of his friends and not himself.

“What a loser.” You smirked as you observed his reaction a few meters away, not being able to hold back your normal behavior.

“Hey! I’ve known this guy for years, I know he’s up for a good time, so be positive on this date. Alright?” His voice lowered so you could only hear him through the phone. This whole situation seems unreal to you, having your best friend take you out on a date, but you are up to trying something new. And this way, you could see how Yunho normally behaved on first dates, which was something you’ve wondered about before.

“I’ll try my best.” You smile.

“Good.. Let me know how it went later, and if he’s being a creep, let me know and I’ll come kick his ass. Good luck.” He hung up the phone and made his way back to you with an apologetic face like he didn’t just speak to you on the phone. “I’m so sorry, I promise, no more phone calls for tonight.” He smiled innocently and opened the door to the passenger seat. “So? You’re up for a date?”

***

“A reservation for two, Jeong Yunho.” Yunho smiles at the man behind the small desk at the restaurant. The dimmed light and the waiters dressed in tuxedos all summed up the atmosphere of the restaurant. This was not something you’ve ever done with Yunho, despite sharing countless dinners with him over the many years. A short moment after the waiter confirms the reservation, you feel Yunho’s hand guiding you after the waiter by the small of your back, leading you to your table.

“I feel.. Underdressed." You nudge Yunho when the waiter leaves and you walk to your side of the table. You may be wearing a dress, but it wasn’t the fanciest one you owned, and now you regret not wearing it. Before you can grab your chair, Yunho is quick to pull it out for you and send you a smile. You try to hide your smile as you sit down and he pushes the chair forwards.

“You look perfect.” He whispers in your ear before going to his side of the table, sending you a wink when you meet his eyes. His words and his behavior all confused you, because you weren’t used to seeing this side of him. He was always respectful, but never like this towards you. And one thing was for sure; he was not making it easy for you.

You’ve only been on the date for 30 minutes, but whenever your hands would touch or he would say something with pure softness in his voice, you would feel your heart melt a little. But this was all just a date to see how the two of you usually behave on dates, it’s not like it means anything… right?

You keep glancing at him over your menu, hard to keep your eyes off the handsome man in front of you. His hair is perfectly ruffled, a black button-down with the sleeves nicely rolled up and his pretty hands holding the menu in front of him. Never had you imagined eating dinner with him like this would do something to you, but the flying little animals in your stomach were telling you differently.

You both ordered different food along with something to drink, and the waiter left you both staring at each other, after pouring both of your drinks.

“Thank you for coming on this date with me.” Yunho smiles from across the table.

“I’m happy to be here,” You smile back. “I'm happy Yunho encouraged you to ask me out.” You grab your glass and take a sip while trying to hide the smirk creeping up on your lips.

“I just had a good feeling about you, Yunho has told me a lot about you.” He’s back to wearing the typical smirk you know. If it wasn’t your best friend sitting in front of you, this date would be looking a lot different. But the way your breathing becomes shaky and your eyes wander to long fingers around his glass, you can’t help but romanticize this whole situation.

“So do you usually go on a lot of dates, Yunho?” You ask, playing with the whole idea of the two of you just meeting for the first time.

“I go out once in a while.. But I’ve never really gotten on a second date with the same person,” He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “Whenever a date goes bad, I usually blame my best friend, she’s the one who sets me up.”

You want to roll your eyes at him, but keep it to yourself. Instead, you crack a genuine smile at his comment.

“Oh, so you have a girl best friend?” You tease.

“I do. We’ve been friends ever since I can remember,” He informs you like you’re not the person he’s talking about. “I think the two of you would get along pretty well.” He says in a quiet tone, a smile still on his lips. His eyes travel to your lips that carry a small drop of your drink, and he has to fight everything in himself not to lean over and touch your lips.

A first date wouldn’t do that, he thinks. Don’t touch her.

You sense his focus on your lips and you’re quick to lick your lips, removing the drop.

The way he’s looking at you makes you want to thank the restaurant for having dimmed light because you know you’re blushing like crazy and you’re absolutely hating it. This shouldn’t feel so exciting and new, and somehow you can’t help but wonder if this feels normal to him or if he’s just putting on an act for you.

And you honestly don’t know if you want to know the answer.

“And what about you?” He raises a brow. “Do you usually go on dates?”

You skim away, thinking of a good answer to match his energy. His relaxed figure makes you slightly intimidated, especially with the way his arms are resting on the table, and him eying you up and down. The sexual tension is definitely there, and it’s a tension you haven’t felt before. It makes you wonder if it has been there before, or if it’s the setting that makes you want to explore what it is. You shrug, leaning forward as well.

“I don’t mind a date here and there,” you respond. “If it was up to me, though, I would be going out a little more. But my best friend who sets me up on the dates, he’s uhm.. He’s a little protective of me.” The smirk is back on your lips and he holds back his smile by pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Something that makes his jaw clench and another flutter runs through your stomach.

“Is that so?” He asks teasingly. “You have a protective guy best friend?”

“I do.. Does that make you concerned?” You tilt your head to the side and Yunho responds by squinting his eyes. Two could play this game, and with the way he was looking at you, you didn’t want the game to stop anytime soon.

“My immediate thought is no.. But I guess it depends on whether or not you think I should be concerned?” He teases back. He’s good.

“I think you should ask him then.” You smirk.

A smile also reaches Yunho’s lips as he leans back in his chair. “Alright.. Guess I’ll have a little chitchat with him later.”

***

After almost two hours of you and Yunho eating dinner, laughing, and sending smirks in each other's direction, you walk out of the restaurant after Yunho paid, and onto the street. It is fully dark outside, and the thin jacket you are wearing is not helping much.

But that’s when you feel something heavier on your shoulders and look to see Yunho place his blazer on you. His tall figure behind you makes your breathing stop for a second, and you almost stop him and tell him you’re fine, but he’s quick to interrupt you.

“Wanna get some dessert? I know a good place.” His eyes sparkle, even when the sun is gone. You’re close enough to smell his cologne, and it’s safe to say that you’re getting more and more mentally weak for him.

You clear your throat. “Uh-yeah.” You shake your head to get out of the trance Yunho has put you in, but is instantly back when his hand guides you from the small of your back. His touch burns through every layer of fabric and touches your skin. He has touched you many times and placed a hand on your back or your shoulder, but never did you feel a spark like this.

Yunho knew a good spot further down the street that sold ice cream cones, so you both got your favorite flavors (he paid, once again) and you were now sitting on the swings in the park nearby. A comfortable silence fills the space between you as you both enjoy your dessert, swinging back and forth on each swing.

“So..” Yunho starts halfway through his ice cream while you’re not even at the cone yet. Your eyes go to him as he shifts his attention back and forth between you and his dessert. “How do you think the date is going?” His big eyes lock with yours, and he looks slightly nervous.

“Depends on who’s asking,” You lick your ice cream while a wrinkle forms between Yunho’s brows. “It is my date, Yunho, who’s asking, or is it Yunho, my best friend, who’s asking?” You explain and he looks away for a moment to think, before looking back at you.

“Your date, Yunho, is asking.” He answers.

“Then I think it’s going very well.” You smile, meaning every word.

Going on a date with him was not on this year's bingo card, but you didn’t mind tonight. If anything, you were actually enjoying seeing this side of Yunho.

“And what if your best friend asked?” One of his brows shot up curiously and you shake your head.

“Then I’d tell him to wait until I get home. I won’t expose myself in the middle of a date, that’s embarrassing.”

A laugh comes from Yunho and you smile at the sound. Another heat sneaks up in your cheeks, hearing him enjoy himself in this setting, and you look away. If he knew what he was doing to you, you weren’t sure you would be able to ever look him in the eyes again.

Yunho finishes his ice cream long before you and just looks at your side profile as you make your way through the dessert. A prominent smile keeps decorating his lips.

You continue finishing your chocolate ice cream, in your own world for a moment, until you hear footsteps approaching you. You look over to see Yunho make his way towards you, feeling your mouth dry out from the way he looks in the dimmed light. The moon and the few streetlights are the only things lighting up the park, and the shadows on his face create a stunning view.

You freeze when he takes your hand and pulls you up from the swing, looking down at you with heavy eyes. He’s so close you can practically feel his body heat. A smile spreads on his lips when he looks down at your lips. His fingers rest under your chin, and suddenly you’re feeling his thumb trace over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches at his sudden act, but when he removes his hand to show you chocolate ice cream on the tip of his finger, a giggle leaves his mouth.

“You’re messy.” He looks at his finger before looking into your eyes. And your mouth completely dries when he licks the ice cream off his thumb while keeping eye contact with you.

Everything inside you is going crazy, leaving you speechless. Such a simple little thing usually doesn’t affect you, but Yunho licking ice cream from your lips, off his finger while maintaining eye contact is making the butterflies practically fly out of your stomach and into your entire body.

“Let’s get you cleaned a little, come on.” He takes your hand in his and he could practically take you anywhere he wanted. Your brain was not functioning at the moment, only focusing on what just happened, and how it feels with his hand holding onto yours. A small convenience store comes into sight, and Yunho pulls you with him and over to a small table by the window, where a couple is sitting, eating ramen. He grabs a napkin and turns around to look down at you and starts wiping your lips with the napkin.

You swallow nervously as his eyes are focused on your lips, and when he finishes removing some ice cream from the corner of your mouth, looking satisfied, your gaze automatically drops to your feet.

Yunho notices the way you avoid looking into his eyes, and a smirk creeps up on his lips. He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to make you nervous, but he loves seeing you like this. Loves seeing you react to him this way.

The couple at the table next to you finishes their ramen and walks out of the convenience store just as rain starts to pour outside. A sudden downpour catches the city off guard, sending people running with their hoods up.

“Guess we can stay here for a few minutes until the rain stops. What do you think?” Yunho asks, looking back at you after looking through the big window display.

"Sure." Is all you say before you turn around and begin scanning the shelves at the store. You try to avoid meeting Yunho's gaze as you make yourself look occupied, but you sense him trailing behind you, keeping you within his line of sight. Meanwhile, the young cashier at the desk is engrossed in a show on their phone, oblivious to the two of you taking refuge from the rain.

You walk down one of the isles and stop when you see a specific kind of chips you used to love. You remember them from a few years ago but haven’t been able to find them in stores ever since.

“You like those?” You hear from behind you and look to see Yunho standing close to you, eying the chips you were just reminiscing about.

“Uhm, yeah.. I thought they stopped producing them.” You say.

You don’t get to react before Yunho grabs the bag of chips and goes to the desk to pay. You’re left in the aisle, looking at him paying for the snacks you didn’t think you needed, and he returns with a smile on his face.

About 15 minutes pass, and you and Yunho are sitting at the table in front of the window, eating chips and waiting for the rain to stop. You push the chips, lying on the table, towards Yunho and he takes one and brings it to his mouth.

“I don’t think the rain is going to stop.” You say as you see the piles of water get bigger and bigger by the minute. Yunho stands up from his chair, glancing outside to spot something before looking back at you.

“My car is close to the restaurant.. If we don’t wanna get too drenched, we have to run. You’re up for that?” With a daring smile, he asks if you want to run in the pouring rain. Suddenly, something changes within you and you feel an unexpected surge of excitement. You eagerly nod in agreement and he takes your hand, leading you out of the store. You both take a moment to mentally prepare yourselves under the shelter before setting off to run as fast as you can.

“Are you ready?” He asks with a smile, somehow finding this whole situation funny.

“Ready.” You answer, and Yunho counts down from three before you both sprint towards Yunho’s car. As you run with Yunho, the water splashes up on your bare legs and he still holds on tightly to your hand. You find yourself laughing and getting drenched in the rain. Running with squinted eyes and without a care feels liberating. If you were on a date with someone you didn't know, you would have been concerned about how you presented yourself, how you spoke, and how you looked. But with Yunho, you feel comfortable being completely drenched.

You spot Yunho's car and sprint past the restaurant where you had dinner earlier. Yunho unlocks the car and giggles when he sees you. He rushes to the passenger side and opens the door for you. After you jump in, he closes your door and runs to the driver's side.

He joins you in the car, and you can't help but laugh when you see him. He's completely soaked, with wet hair stuck to his forehead and his button-up shirt clinging to him. Laughter fills the car as you make eye contact. Suddenly, you remember that you're wearing his jacket and start to feel guilty.

"Oh, your jacket--" you begin, but he interrupts you by reaching into the back seat and pulling out a black hoodie. He hands it to you, still panting from running, but you shake your head. "Wear the hoodie yourself. You're more soaked than I am."

"Come on, you'll get sick if you don't warm up. I'm fine." he insists, and you eventually accept the hoodie. You take off your drenched jacket and he throws it in the back seat. Your skin is glistening from the rain, and you start to feel cold. Yunho notices and steals a quick glance at your wet neck area. He realizes that you're not wearing a bra under your dress and takes a sharp inhale. Clearing his throat, he watches as you pull his hoodie over your head.

Stay focused, Yunho, he thinks.

Immediately, Yunho’s scent wraps around you like a warm hug, and since you were just wearing a little black dress, and Yunho’s clothes are obviously oversized, the hoodie covers most of your thighs as well.

“Let’s get you home and in some dry clothes.” Yunho says, kindly reminding himself to let the date end (for now), so he starts the car, turns up the heat, and heads towards your homes.

The drive was calm, both of you just listening to the rain pouring and clicking on the windows. You couldn’t help but think about how fun today was, and how thankful you were that Yunho ended up being your date. Whether or not he did it to prove a point, you enjoyed yourself and almost didn’t want the night to end.

Yunho drove past his own house and parked in front of yours. “Is this your house?” He asks while looking past you and at the house with an impressed expression.

“It is, good guess finding the exact address.” You joke, and he’s quiet for a moment.

“I’m psychic, I forgot to mention.” His smile makes you melt for the hundredth time tonight, and you prepare yourself to exit the car when you remember something.

“Oh, your hoodie.” You say, about to take it off, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

“Keep it for now. I have a feeling I’ll see you again.” He sends a wink in your direction.

“Oh, cool.. Well, thank you for tonight, I had a pretty good time.”

“Me too.. But I should head home, it’s getting late and the drive is pretty long.”

You have to fight not to laugh at him, so you just nod and unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Of course. I’ll see you soon?” You ask, hoping you’ll see him soon soon. He immediately understands what you mean and he nods.

“You will.”

You send him one last smile and pull the hood from the hoodie over your head before heading out of the car. You don’t get as drenched as earlier, because you’re quickly able to lock yourself in and close the front door behind you.

A curiousness hits you, and you immediately look out of the window. Keeping an eye on Yunho in the car, you can’t help but laugh when he backs from your house over to his, turns off the car, and runs to his own house. When he locks himself in and disappears out of sight, you remove yourself from the window.

Your head is spinning from the night, how much fun you had, and how much you enjoyed being on a date with Yunho. An actual date. And even though you can’t help but think he did this for fun and to prove how good he is at dating, you almost wish this wasn’t the case. Because he was so much better at going on dates than you thought.

A knock is heard on your door, and you’re positive you know who’s waiting on the other side. You run to open the door and see Yunho, no longer in his button-up and slacks, but in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, still with hair damp from the rain.

“There you are! I was waiting for you to come home, I was worried I sent you on a date with a psycho.” He walks past you and into the house. You close the door with a consistent smile as you watch him get himself comfortable on the couch in your living room.

“You were keeping an eye on me?” You lift an eyebrow as you sit down beside him.

“Needed to make sure he was a gentleman, you know? So what do you think? How was he?” He looks at you with the subtle smirk he had been carrying the entire night like he knew he was a good date. He could be humbled a little.

“I mean.. he was a little..” You search for the right word. “Weird.”

He completely loses the confidence shining through him, and a deep wrinkle forms between his brows.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know, I think he thinks a little highly of himself. You know, he’s not all that.”

Of course, you’re teasing him, but also not entirely wanting to admit how good of a date he actually was. Yunho had always been a confident guy, because he knew he was good-looking, well-mannered, funny, and had been one of God’s favorites when it came to size. So a little teasing wouldn’t hurt anybody.

Yunho looks at you a bit confused. “I don’t-”

You interrupt him. “He also didn’t let me pay for my part of the dinner. It just came off as-”

“Well, maybe he just wanted to make sure you were having a good time without-” Yunho interrupts you as well, clearly having his pride hurt, but stops talking when he meets your eyes and sees the teasing look on your face. “Nevermind..”

You crack a smile and tilt your head. “You can tell him that I had a great time,” You’re downplaying like this wasn't the best date of your life, “I’m really curious about who he is.”

When you meet his eyes, there’s a certain flash of something you can’t describe. But he’s quick to go back to the behavior you usually know, making you wonder what that look meant.

“I will.. But unfortunately, he’s not gonna be in town for a while, you see, because he needs to go home and back to school which happens to be in.. Venezuela. Sooo.. Sorry.” He shrugs and leans forward, resting an elbow on his thigh to hold his head.

“Oh well, he wasn’t that amazing either.” You shrug as well, looking away from him, pretending not to care.

A scoff leaves Yunho’s mouth. “You’re acting like you don’t care, but I know you’re gonna dream about him tonight,” He teases with a confident smile and your jaw drops when you look at him. He’s too much. “He’s probably gonna be in your little late-night fantasies-”

“Shut up!” You push him on the shoulder teasingly.

You hate how he knows that, that is true. He’s most definitely gonna be in your fantasies tonight.

He tries to grab your hand but fails. Instead, he goes to poke you in the side. “Am I not telling the truth?” He laughs.

“No!” Yes.

You try pushing him away, but he’s way too strong, and the two of you end up trying to grab each other's hands, getting control of the other. It ends up with a little fight on the couch, and you find yourself lying further down on the couch while Yunho hovers above you. You can’t help but laugh at the situation because you know you’ve lost. And that is being confirmed when Yunho’s had too much and pins both of your wrists above your head with one of his hands, while his other hand is placed on your waist.

The feeling of him pinning you down like this, hovering over you, is gonna play in your mind the entire night.

This is not good, you think.

Both of your breaths are heavy after the small fight you just had, and when meeting each other’s eyes in this position, it’s like something changes for a moment. His eyes go dark when looking down at you and his hand holding yours. The same goes for you because your heart starts to beat faster, and you can’t help but get excited by this situation and the feeling of his touch. You can’t see your hands, but you know how his hands look, and you know yours look good being pinned down by him.

The silence goes on for a few more seconds, before you come to your senses and clear your throat. “I’m gonna get something to drink, want some?”

It’s like he realizes the position as well, and loosens the grip on your wrists. “Yes please,” He lets go of you and stands up. Either it's the fact that you just had a small fight, or it was the way Yunho looked at you, but you feel incredibly hot and lift the hoodie over your head and throw it on the couch when standing up. You make your way to the kitchen when you hear him follow behind you. “I’ve been eating these awful chips tonight that dry out my entire mouth-”

“Hey!” You turn around to see him back in his teasing element with a smile on his face.

“What?” He asks.

“You said you liked them!” You fight back, entering the kitchen completely, him following you behind quietly.

“Nooo, that was the other Yunho. He was just being polite to his date and didn’t want to make her feel bad for having poor taste in snacks. I’m your best friend, on the other hand, and it’s my job to be honest with you.” He leans up against the doorframe, crossing his arms and you have to focus on not looking at him.

You find some glasses from the cabinet and shake your head. “So the other Yunho is a liar then?”

“There’s a difference between lying and holding back the truth.” His argument is weak, so you shake your head as you pour some water into the glass.

“Well, I think I liked the other Yunho better then. He was a gentleman, this one,” You point to him, sending him a glaring elevator look, “Is an ass.” You hand him his glass and pour up something for yourself.

His hand goes to his heart like it just shattered from your words. “An ass!? Come on, you can’t choose a favorite Yunho. You’re gonna make me feel jealous of myself.” He laughs and you can’t help but roll your eyes, not even trying to hide it.

You take a sip of your water, and you quickly feel his gaze lingering on you. Specifically your body in the dress, now that the hoodie wasn't hiding it. You catch his eyes traveling down to your bare legs and up once again.

“You’ve been staring a lot at my dress tonight.” You say looking away, distracting yourself by cleaning up your glass.

“I could say the same about you staring at my hands,” His words make you shoot your eyes in his direction, slightly panicked that he knew. The smirk grows on his lips, while you freeze, not knowing what to say. “What, you thought I didn’t notice?” He says as he slowly starts to walk closer, placing his glass on top of the counter while keeping his eyes on you.

Your body thoughtlessly takes a few steps back, until your lower back is pressed against the counter on the kitchen island. He’s walking slowly, but somehow he's in front of you within no time, caging you between the island and his towering body. His hands are placed on each side of you on the counter, time seems to have stopped, and your breathing quickly fastens.

“So.. Is there a reason for the staring?” He stares down at you and you can’t help but look away from his piercing eyes. Your breathing has already stopped and you’re sure you barely can’t get any words out. “Look at me,” His deep voice commands and without a doubt in your mind, you immediately listen and look into his eyes. A small scoff leaves him like he knows you’re under his spell, and he tilts his head slightly to the side. “Hmm?”

Your mouth goes dry, searching for the right words to say. “I could ask you the same.” Is all you manage to say.

“And my answer would be yes.” He’s quick to say like he has nothing to hide. His confidence shines through, and it makes your heart beat even faster.

You’re quiet for a moment as you take in what he just said. “And what is the reason?” You ask, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. You’ve never seen this side of Yunho before (only when he’s been flirting with girls at parties) and you honestly don’t know how to act back. You know exactly where your mind goes when thinking of his hands, deep voice, and dominating manner, but you can’t admit that to him.

His eyes linger on your lips for a moment and then back to your eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

Never has the tension been like this between the two of you, and it’s like you both know what the other is thinking, but neither of you is doing anything about it.

“It’s not something best friends say.” His voice turns to a whisper and your breathing stops again. You can’t look him in the eyes, afraid to expose yourself so your eyes instantly shoot away.

It’s not something best friends say.

Your mind is going crazy, and all you wanna do is know what he’s thinking about. The game you’ve both decided to play, leaving nothing but subtle thoughts for the imagination, is killing you. But he just fully admitted that he’s been thinking the same thing as you because you would never directly admit to him how he’s been running through your mind tonight. But he has, in ways you won’t even be able to put into words.

“What are you thinking about?” He’s still keeping his eyes on you and you somehow find the courage to look back into his eyes.

“It’s.. It’s not something best friends say.” Is all you say and you see a change in the way he looks at you. Everything burns inside Yunho, and he wants so badly to do what he’s been thinking about for hours and hours, but he’s not sure you’re ready. Your friendship would change in an instant, and he wants you to be sure.

He opens his mouth, getting ready to ask, “Can I ki-”

“Yes.” You interrupt him before you grab him by the collar and smash your lips against his in a heated kiss. Everything comes crumbling down, like you both had been waiting for this to happen, in a messy, eager kiss. His hands find their way around your waist to pull you closer, not leaving his lips from yours. The counter from the kitchen island is pressing against your back as he towers over you, devouring your lips. He picks you up effortlessly and places you on the counter, and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer. A muffled moan escapes his lips against yours, as he feels you against his hardening cock. He pulls back for a second to get a look at you, his eyes traveling down your body.

“Holy fuck.. You look so fucking beautiful.” He breathed, looking into your doe eyes. The spark in them is enough for him to miss his lips on yours, so you’re back in a messy kiss in a split second. “I’ve been wanting to tear this dress off you all night.” He mumbles against your lips, slowly making his way down your jaw and onto your neck.

“You should’ve just done that.” You run your fingers through his hair as you lean your head back, giving him more space to run his lips over your neck. One of his hands runs in your hair, grabbing the back, holding you in place before feeling his breath on your ear.

“Careful,” His deep voice is next to your ear, and you can practically hear him smirking. “Don’t get cocky with me now.”

Just when he’s about to kiss you again, he pulls back and looks deeply into your eyes. You realize the look in his eyes has changed a bit, as he tries to read your face.

“What?” You ask confused. Is he regretting this? Is this a bad idea? Does he not want to do this?

His breathing is ragged, but he holds eye contact for a few more seconds before speaking.

“If it gets too much.. If you want me to stop, please let me know, okay? Because I don’t think I can hold back from you once you let me do this.” His touch on you is now softer than before.

You can’t help but crack a smile at the way he asks permission for this to happen, but there’s not a single part of you that doubts this. You want this. You want him.

And the thing is, he wants you too, if not more. Everything inside Yunho is exploding, and he can’t even believe he isn’t kissing you right now. If it stood to him, you were both naked at this point, but he wants you to be sure about this. He doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable or about to regret this, because you mean more to him than anyone has ever done.

Your hands grab his head as you pull him into a softer kiss. A promising kiss. A kiss that tells him that you’re sure about this. His hands grab the counter, fighting himself not to go too crazy.

“I want you, Yunho.” You look deeply into his eyes. “I trust you.” The words change something in Yunho’s eyes, and he takes a quick deep breath before crashing his lips onto yours again.

His hands quickly find your body, traveling around your waist and up and down your thighs, getting used to the touch of you under his control. Your fingers run through his hair, but you instantly grab a hold of his locks when you feel his fingers press against your clothed pussy. The touch of his fingers alone is enough to make you moan, and he’s taking his time running the tip of three fingers up and down your core, sending shock waves through your body.

“You’re dripping wet.. Is this what you thought about when looking at my hands all night?” He asks. You can’t even get out any words, so you just nod eagerly. Another scoff leaves Yunho’s mouth and suddenly the feeling of his touch disappears. “Lay down.”

You’re listening to his commands like a dog to their owner, and your back leans down on the cold counter. You feel his hands run from your thighs to your hips where he’s grabbing your panties to pull them down. Air hits your core, and suddenly you hear a deep chuckle coming from Yunho.

“Of course..” He says to himself.

"What?" You ask nervously.

“Of course, you have such a pretty pussy. You really don’t have any flaws, do you?”

He pushes your legs apart before digging in, tugging you forward a bit so he has easier access. You look down at him to see his tongue immediately find its way through your slit. All nervousness leaves your body as he starts tasting you. He lets out a satisfied groan when he starts sucking your clit, and he looks absolutely amazing from your point of view, in his relaxed clothes and slightly messy hair.

“And you taste fucking amazing,” His words are muffled, almost not daring to remove his mouth as he leaves his tongue everywhere on your pussy, wanting to taste as much of you as possible. He’s eating you out like it is his last meal on earth, and a moan escapes your mouth.

The straps from your dress hang loosely off your shoulders, exposing just the right amount of your breast, to leave little to no imagination. Yunho is quick to run one of his hands up your stomach to pull the dress down and grab one of your tits. You close your eyes, only to widen them quickly when you feel him insert one of his long fingers inside you. He smirks a little as he looks up at you, seeing how you react to his touches.

“This fucking dress.. and you don’t even wear a bra under it,” He’s squeezing your tit, slightly pinching your nipple. “You’re so fucking hot.”

You start to feel incredibly sensitive and start closing your legs, but Yunho is quick to let go of your breast and push your legs apart, before devouring your pussy again, while his long finger works in and out of you.

“Oh, we’re just getting started, sweetheart,” he says, loving the sounds coming from you as you try to keep yourself from screaming in pleasure. “Ready for another one?” He adds another finger to your hole and a gasp escapes through your lips. His long fingers work their way with your pussy and when his lips wrap around your clit, you feel a spark running through your entire body.

His lips remove themself from your cunt and he pulls you up, still with his fingers deep inside you, and he smashes his lips hard against yours, so you’re able to taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

“Please, Yunho..” you barely got the words out, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep you up.

“Tell me what you want,” he grumbles next to your ear as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you, making sure to have his knuckles pressed hard against your heat every time his fingers go in.

“I want.. I want you to fuck me.”

A smirk appears on his lips, finally hearing the words he’d been dreaming of for longer than he imagined. But he wasn’t ready. You weren’t ready.

“You’re so cute. But you’re not ready to take me yet, sweetheart.”

You slightly pull back to look into his eyes, but when you see the look in his eyes and feel the pressure from another finger being added to your hole, you know that he wasn’t playing around. He has a massive cock, and you are going to be filled. He was preparing you. His free hand pushes your legs further apart and presses your abdomen down on the counter to keep you from moving too much. Your eyes roll back as you use your hands to keep you from lying down, steadying you.

“Oh my God..” your words are mumbles at this point, and with the speed of his three fingers going in and out, you know you aren’t going to last much longer. “Yunho, I’m going to come.”

As if something switches inside of him, he quickly bends down and starts to eat you out while his fingers work inside you. The feeling of being filled by his long, thin fingers and his tongue sucking on your nub was a feeling you never felt before, and it didn’t take you long to start feeling your orgasm spread through your entire body. Your legs start to shake and you feel yourself crumble under his touch, eyes rolling back and feeling sensitive to every touch he leaves on you.

“So fucking delicious,” The noise of him slurping your juices filled the entire kitchen, “All sensitive and shaky already,” He stood up and pulled you closer to him, pushing some hair behind your ear in a caring manner. “And you don’t even know whats yet to come.. How adorable.”

Your breathing is fast, not ever experiencing this kind of orgasm. Not even the expensive vibrators you’ve gathered over the years could do it like Yunho. And you wanted more of him.

His fingers left your hole and you looked at them to see them shining and soaked in your juices. He slowly raised his fingers to your mouth, and you sucked them clean. You felt messy, dirty, and sweaty, all thanks to your best friend who just gave you the best orgasm of your life.

“Such a good little slut,” his eyes locked on your mouth as his fingers smeared across your lips, “My little slut.” His hand grabs the back of your head and presses your lips against his in a sloppy kiss. Another groan leaves his mouth and he slowly moves his lips down your jaw and onto your neck.

His words send an intense rush through your body, and you never expected to be so turned on by being called a slut. But Yunho knows what he’s doing, he knows you well and you’re probably easy to read because you’re responding to his words by moaning when you feel him kiss your most sensitive spot on your neck.

Your eyes caught the growing bulge in his gray sweatpants, looking more massive than anything you’ve ever seen. The urge to see it, feel it, taste it is everything on your mind, so you reach out your hand to touch it on top of his sweatpants. A deep groan is heard from the back of his throat as he continues to kiss your neck.

“You feel that?” He asks, slowly wrapping his fingers around your throat. He looks down at you as you nod, still stroking the outside of his bulge. “You feel what you do to me?” His deep voice whispers in your ear. You wish you could give him the same amount of pleasure he just gave you. He’s standing between your legs, but you wish you could press your thighs together to cause any kind of friction between your legs, even after an intense orgasm.

Just hearing him talk like this and seeing how big he is, even under his sweatpants, sends sparks through your entire body.

“Let me take care of you too.” You’re practically begging to touch him, feel him. Never have you been so eager to move quicker, but Yunho has you under a spell, and he knows it because a satisfied smile spreads across his lips before he presses his lips on yours. This time was much softer than the other times, starting as a slow kiss and slowly deepening. The hand from your neck moves to your cheeks to deepen it even more, and the warm feeling inside you grows even bigger.

“Not here, sweetheart.. My first time fucking you won’t be in a kitchen.” His words were so vulgar, but his eyes were full of care and trust. And you don’t trust anyone as much as you trust Yunho, so you nod and he wraps your legs around his waist as he kisses you again.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you feel him remove you from the kitchen island and carry you to your bedroom, still with his lips pressed against yours. Having him basically living with you, seemed to show because he knew the way to the bedroom with his eyes closed and you wrapped around him.

The soft touch of your madrass was under you as Yunho threw you on the bed and climbed on top of you, never separating your lips.

“If I knew your lips were this addicting, I would’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he gives you a final deep kiss before standing up beside the bed. “And as much as I love this dress on you, I need you to take it off. Now.”

You don’t waste a second getting out of the dress, and since you don’t wear a bra under the dress, and Yunho already took off your panties in the kitchen, you are already left naked. Yunho lifts his black t-shirt over his head, throws it on a chair, and is left in the gray sweatpants that still have a big bulge showing. His back muscles tenses as he moves, making him even hotter by the second. He turns around to see you sitting naked on the bed on your knees, hands placed nicely on your thighs, waiting for his instructions.

A smile spreads on his lips as he runs his eyes over your body, walking closer to you.

“Look at you.. Beautiful and waiting for me to tell you what to do. You like that?” His hand runs through your hair, sending shivers down your spine. “You like when I call you names? Like sweetheart? or slut?”

You nod while looking up at him with doe eyes.

His hand grabbed your hair from the back and pulled it down, causing you to look up at him straight. “Use your words.” He demands, looking straight down at you.

“Yes, I love it.” Your answer and a satisfied smile spread on his lips.

“That’s right, baby.”

Baby. Once again, his words make you wetter at your heat, so you press your thighs together even more to cause any kind of friction.

"Now..Before I fuck you,” he lets go of your hair and lightly cubs your cheek. “You’re gonna have to suck my cock. Is that okay, sweetheart?” his tall body towered over you sitting on the bed. His thumb caressed your cheek, letting you know that you’re safe with him and he’d never do anything you wouldn't want.

You lean into his hand and place a kiss in his palm, before looking up at him to nod.

“I’d like that.”

He bends down to kiss you before giving you the next demand. He straightens and you look down to see his massive bulge in the sweatpants, practically fighting to be free.

“You were so eager to touch it before, so do it.. now.” His voice is stern, and you didn’t hesitate to pull down the sweatpants and his boxers to see his cock spring free.

His cock is the biggest you’ve ever seen, rock hard and flat against his stomach. Not only is it incredibly long, but also thick. The veins running up and down his shaft are pumping and the tip is glistening with pre-cum. His hand wrapped around it to give it a few strokes, and all you could think about was how that ever was going to fit inside you.

“You alright, sweetheart?” His words make you look into his eyes instead, and a smirk appears when he sees your reaction to his cock. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it fit. Do you trust me?”

Instead of answering him, you slowly reach out to grab his girth in your hand, feeling how hard and warm he is under your touch. A small gasp escapes through his lips when you start pumping his cock slowly.

The way he’s looking down at you shows so much dominance and power, but he’s still running his hands through your hair and trying to show you as much care as possible, even when having these roles. Keeping that in mind, all of your small concerns go out the window, and you feel a new confidence take over your body, as you feel ecstatic over the idea of sucking his cock the way you have always wanted to.

“Spit.” He demands and it doesn’t take you long to spit on his cock and move your lips to the head, leaking pre-cum. Your hand is pumping his girth while you run your lips over the head of his cock, mixing spit with pre-cum. Given everything Yunho has been doing and saying to you so far, you’re convinced that he’s into the same shit as you, so you decide to go all out. You spit even more on the head of his cock, before trying to take him in your mouth.

“Holy fuck,” his breathing changes and he makes a small noise from the back of his throat.

You start to drool on his cock, trying to take as much of him in your mouth as possible. Your lips are stretched all the way, and you’re doubting that you’re able to take all of him, but you’re willing to try.

“Look up at me,” You look up at his command while bobbing your head, feeling pre-cum and spit fall on your chest. “You’re so fucking perfect, you know that?”

His words make you want to do even better for him, so you try to take even more of his cock into your mouth. You almost make it to the beginning of his shaft, but feel a gagging sensation take over you, but you try to fight it. Tears form in your eyes as you try to breathe through your nose.

Yunho groans then, “Fuck, baby,” he sounds strained. “All these years I spent with you, I didn’t think you were such a cock slut.”

You finally pull back from him to breathe, feeling spit and pre-come everywhere. In your mouth, on his cock, on your tits, on your hand. It’s messy. After catching your breath, you decide to continue sucking him, and you feel one of his hands rest lightly on the back of your head as he pushes his dick back into your mouth.

Another groan leaves him as he starts pumping his cock in and out of your mouth. The noises coming from you slurping mix with his ragged breathing. You feel him wrap his hand around a few strands of your hair, helping you bop your head at a comfortable speed. A series of small groans leave him, and his breathing gets faster before he quickly takes a step back.

“Baby.. Hold up,” he pulls his cock out of your mouth and you notice how red the head of his cock is. It’s throbbing and basically begging to come. You wipe the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand to remove the mess you’ve made.

“Was it okay?” You ask, a little confused why he didn’t just come in your mouth.

He is almost letting out a chuckle as he leans down to kiss your lips.

“It was.. Out of this world” He caresses your cheek with his thumb and says; “I just want to be inside of you when I come.” He lifts you on your knees, so he can hold you closer. His lips crash against yours, letting him taste himself on his tongue, but he doesn’t mind it. Especially when it comes from your mouth.

He pulls back and holds your waist with one hand, while he cups the other one right by your mouth.

“Spit.” He instructs again.

You do as he says, still tasting his pre-cum in your mouth when you spit in his hand. He smirks when his hand drops to your pussy and rubs your spit in between your folds. A gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling of his fingers running through your folds, and you quickly need him to give you another orgasm, asap.

As if he knows exactly what you're thinking, he turns you around and pushes you down on the bed, so you land on your front. You’re surprised by his manhandling, but when you feel him bring your ass up in the air to smack it, you’re running with it.

You’ve never had sex with someone where you didn’t have to tell them what to do or what you liked. But Yunho knew exactly how to please you. It was almost like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You feel him plant kisses, bites, hickeys, and smacks on your cheeks, leaving you with a stream of moans and gasps.

“You’re mine from now on, you understand?” He smacks one of your cheeks and kisses it right after. “I’m going to leave marks on you, so if anyone ever tries something, they will see who you belong to. Got it?”

His.

The sound of him calling you his was something you only imagined would happen, and never did you think it would feel so good to hear.

Yunho pulled you out of your thoughts and turned you around, facing up, before he crawled onto the bed and on top of you. You felt his dick press against your pussy as he steadied himself over you.

“I said; Got it?” He asked, and you nodded before quickly responding.

“Got it.”

“Good girl.” He positioned himself better between your legs, and you could already feel the excitement of him inside of you. “If you want me to go slower or stop, let me know.” Yunho grips his cock in his hand, stroking it a few times before rubbing the tip between your folds. Your hands are on the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. The feeling of his huge cock pressed against your entrance is making you impatient, but when you feel him slowly enter your hole, you’re thankful that he’s taking it slow.

You wrap your legs around his waist as you feel him stretch you out, and with the help of your spit and your wetness, he slides in a little easier. But you would lie if you said you’ve tried anyone bigger than Yunho.

“Fuck, you’re tight” He grunts, slowly filling you up more and more.

It doesn’t take you long to feel full of him. He groans whenever you clench around his cock, taking it as a sign for him to go slower. He’s already going pretty slow, but he would never pressure you. He knew he had a large cock, so it was important for him to make sure you felt good, first of all.

He stops and you let out the breath of air you didn’t know you held in, feeling his length and trying to accommodate how thick he is.

“You’re taking me so well, baby, but you can take more.” He looks down at you and takes your hand in his, pinning them down next to your head. Yunho lowers down to plant a kiss on your forehead, and you close your eyes, ready for him to continue.

“I need you to relax for me, baby.” He instructs and you do as he said. Even when you thought you couldn’t fit more of him, he filled you up even more. “That’s right.” His way of switching from calling you “slut” to calling you baby, making you feel cared about, almost loved, was everything you needed. Your hands clench in his, almost scared you will hurt him with the way your nails are digging into the back of his hand.

With a final push, you feel his hips against yours, and a gasp leaves your mouth. You can’t even imagine if he had tried entering you without warming you up with his fingers and getting you so wet first. Never have you been so full, your eyes rolling back at him hitting your spot without nearly doing anything, almost making you cry in pleasure.

“There,” He says, looking down at you. You let go of his hands and pull him down for another kiss. “You’re okay?”

Instead of answering, you press your heels into his back to make him move and feel if he could enter you a bit more - He could. A smirk appears on his lips and he lets out a groan when you feel him clench around him.

“You’re ready to be fucked like the little slut you are?” You feel him slowly pull out, before pushing inside of you again, trying to make you get used to his size. You couldn’t believe he was fitting inside you. “Has anyone ever fucked you like you wanted? Or have you just been waiting for me?” He smirks as he looks down at you. He leans down, bringing his hands under you to hold you tight and whisper closer to your ear. “I bet you’ve been fantasizing about getting pinned down and fucked for years, haven’t you?”

“Y-Yes.” You manage to say as his speed quickens, and you feel him more and more - even though you didn’t think that was possible. “I’ve been waiting.. for you.”

“You feel so fucking perfect around my cock, don’t you think?” His pace is getting faster and faster, and you can barely get any words out at this point. “You were made for me.”

“Don’t stop, Yunho, please!” You beg, biting down on his shoulder. You feel his breath on your neck, his arms holding you tighter as he continues to fuck you.

“Never,” You hear his smile, and he grabs your waist to turn you both around. Suddenly riding him, sitting on top of his cock makes you feel him deeper than before, and a muffled scream leaves your mouth. The feelings send a shockwave through your body, and you feel yourself fall forward on top of him. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, locking your arms behind your back as he holds you tight against him.

He can not get deeper in your pussy, so he takes the opportunity to ram his cock deep inside you. He lifts his hips as he’s slamming his cock into your cunt at a fast speed, and the sounds of skin slapping against each other fill the entire house.

Quickly you feel another orgasm approach, never experiencing an orgasm without having to stimulate your clit. But Yunho is so deep inside of you and rails you so quickly, that it isn’t necessary, “Yunho, please!”

“Your moans are so beautiful, let everyone hear how good I fuck you,” His one hand holds both of yours behind your back, as he uses the other to hold your head close to his ear. “You’re only gonna take my cock from now on, understand?” His grab on you tightens as he fucks you faster. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum.”

“Come inside me, please!” You cry out, barely even being able to speak as your mind whitens. He buries his face in your neck while ramming his cock into you at a fast pace. He hits the right spot every time, making your moans consistent. His hard grasp on you somehow makes you feel like you can let go of everything and make him do whatever he wants with you. So when you feel your orgasm approach, you don’t do anything to hold it back. Yunho feels you clench around his dick as you climax, sending him over the edge as well.

His deep groans hum in your ear as you feel him empty his balls inside you. “Fuck, baby..”

You feel his warm load spill into you while he holds you tight on top of him, making you take all of it. You feel your heart pumping in your entire body, ragged breaths coming from you as you relax on top of him, and his tight, domestic hold on you becomes a soft and affectionate hug.

Yunho still being inside you, you seem to find it relaxing laying on top of him in his arms. And if Yunho could, he would stop time and lay here with you for just a little more. As your eyes are closed, you feel him run his fingers through your hair and down your back. One thing you didn’t expect when going on a date today, was ending up having your best friend fuck your brains out till you forgot how to speak. But this somehow felt so right.

“Are you alright?” His soft voice asks, still with a few gasps left in his voice.

“Uh-huh.” You slightly nod as you open your eyes to see a blur, barely able to use any words.

“We need to get you cleaned up..” Yunho gently pulls out of you and you collapse on the bed next to him. The last thing you wanted was to stand up and clean yourself, so you just shook your head and closed your eyes again.

“Soon.. I’m so tired though..” You excuse, still in a haze from the orgasm. You feel Yunho’s hand run through your hair, and the way he’s slowly massaging your scalp, makes your eyes feel even heavier.

“Wait here then.” You hear him say and soon the bed feels empty without him. A few moments later, you hear him enter back in the bedroom and a wet cloth runs over your skin. You’re slowly waking up to feel his hands softly on you, and you look down at him, and your heart flutters at your best friend sitting on the bed next to you. He’s so focused on cleaning you, removing all the dried spit and cum from your chest, stomach and thighs.

His touch is soft, especially when he slightly parts your legs to clean the most sensitive area, and when he accidentally graces your most sensitive spot, a small moan escapes through your lips. You still feel an incredible sensation around your lower region, so when he quickly looks up at your face to see you’re okay, he tries his best to hide his smile, feeling proud he left you a moaning mess a few minutes ago.

“Sorry..” He whispers as he continues to clean up, making sure to be extra careful.

The wet cloth is doing its job, and you’re free from any fluid on your body. Your eyes are closed again and you suddenly feel the bed getting heavier next to you. You feel the duvet cover you and an arm wrap around your body to pull you into Yunho’s chest. Your back is flat against his front, and with the warmth of his body, you’ve never felt more safe.

Slowly drifting off to sleep, you manage to hear a few words before you’re completely out.

“Goodnight, my love.”

***

The light shines bright in the bedroom, making it hard to see anything when you open your eyes. Everything is a blur, but when you reach out your arm to feel nothing but an empty bed, you’re quickly rubbing your eyes to see clearly.

There’s a bend in the pillow where Yunho slept, but no Yunho in sight. You pull up the duvet to cover your naked body when you sit up to get a better view of the bedroom. There’s no sound of anyone in your house, and the feeling of slight panic rumbles your stomach.

Did he leave? Did he regret what happened between you and wouldn’t want to see you again?

Just as thoughts start to flood your mind, the bedroom door opens and Yunho enters, tip-toeing into the room, just wearing his gray sweatpants. When he sees you sitting up, panic immediately shows on his face. “Oh shit, sorry, did I wake you?”

“No no, I was just confused about where you went.” You shake your head, suddenly relaxed to see him this morning.

A smile spreads on his lips and he makes his way to you on the bed. “I’m right here, baby.” He crawls on top and hovers over you before leaning down to kiss your lips. It’s a reassuring kiss that tells you he wouldn’t ever just leave like that. He pulls back after a moment and looks down at you with a soft smile on his face. "Good morning."

"Good morning." You smile back, not at all used to waking up like this, but you’re not at all mad about it. “So.. Do you usually stay the night after a first date?” You shyly ask while he looks down at you.

“Usually not.” He shrugs with a smirk. “What about you? Do you usually have your first date sleeping over?”

“Usually not.”

He nods slowly "Interesting.." He bites his lip to hide his smile, but the smile slowly falls off his face and gets replaced by a wrinkle between his brows. He gets quiet, and you wonder what suddenly went through his mind. “I need to tell you something..”

Your heart suddenly starts pounding, concerned about what he’s going to say. Yunho takes a deep breath, still holding himself up by his arms on each side of your head.

“Look, yesterday was something new for both of us, and we both know how when you’re.. having sex, you feel a lot of emotions, and sometimes blurt out something without actually meaning what you’re saying..” The nervousness is evident in his voice. “I just need you to know that.. the things I said yesterday.. I meant it.”

You’re completely quiet, just now trying to figure out exactly what he’s talking about.

“I meant when I said I want you to.. be mine. And when I said you're beautiful. And, yeah, I don’t know, I’m just not sure I can go back to being best friends with you, because what we did yesterday.. best friends don’t do that.” The look in his eyes is hard to describe, but there’s a hint of hope. Hope that you perhaps feel the same as him. “I guess I’m trying to say; how about we continue what we started?”

Voice lowering down to a whisper, he stares down at you with such an expression you want to wrap your arms around him and hug him. The dominating guy he was last night is completely switched to the most precious and small man.

You can’t help but let out a giggle, finding this entire situation cute. “I’d love that.”

The wrinkle between his brows immediately disappears and he releases a breath he didn’t know he held.

“Yeah?” He asks with a huge smile on his face.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Okay.”

Fireworks are exploding in both of you as he leans down and kisses you with such intensity, he wants to fill out all the space that separates you from him. He wants you as close as possible, and he’s sure he’s never going to get tired of hearing you giggle.

Moving his lips against yours, you never imagined how right this would feel. He pulls away, but only to lay down next to you and pull you towards him. Placing your head on his chest, he wraps both of his arms around you to hold you close. The feeling of safety and warmth is burning from every cell of you, and you never want to feel this with anyone else but Yunho.

Yunho kisses the top of your head occasionally as you both lay there, just enjoying the silence and each other’s company. But you can’t help but say what's on your mind.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have to start getting ready.” You say, and he immediately tightens his grab around you.

“Five more minutes, then I’ll let you go.” He mumbles against your head.

Sigh.. “But I have to shower.”

He’s quiet for a short moment before looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “Shower?” He asks like he has something on his mind. You nod and he looks away shyly before getting the courage to say what he’s thinking. “I mean.. Since we’ve decided to upgrade our friendship to dating, I guess it wouldn’t be weird to.. you know.. shower together?”

Butterflies take over your entire body, and you try your best to hide your smile. Yunho and you don’t have anything to hide from each other anymore, so a shower would be innocent compared to what you two did last night. You look up to meet his eyes, slightly shrugging. “I guess you’re right.”

Just when you thought his smile couldn’t get bigger, his eyes wrinkled from the smile and he gets all energetic like a puppy you just offered to take on a walk.

“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asks, making sure.

“Sure.” You downplay how badly you actually want to do this. You want to do everything with Yunho, because the two of you just opened so many doors of possibilities, and you can’t wait to share every moment with him.

A giggle leaves his mouth and he kisses you passionately. “I’ll go get it ready for us.” The smile does not leave Yunho’s mouth as he pulls his t-shirt over his head, and he finds your robe in your dresser. He’s running around the room, getting stuff ready to bring to the bathroom, smiling and giggling nonstop.

“What?” You can’t help but ask.

His eyes dart to you before he runs over to kiss you one last time before heading to the bathroom to prepare the shower for the two of you.

“I'm just so happy”

#ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #yunho #jeong yunho #kpop fic #ateez fanfic

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