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bodyswapmischief · 3 days ago

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The Height of Holiday Magic: A Very Meyers Christmas

@thegreatstoryteller , it's my time to return the favor. Another annual body swap and another story I hope you enjoy!

Henry gripped the steering wheel tightly as the snow-covered road stretched endlessly ahead. The rhythmic hum of the car's engine was soothing, a stark contrast to the churning thoughts in his head. He was glad to be heading home after months of college. Winter break meant cozy evenings, his mom’s famous hot cocoa, and the familiar scent of pine and firewood filling the house.

But beneath the excitement, there was a nagging weight pressing on his chest. It always surfaced when he thought of his dad. Locke was everything Henry wasn’t. Compared to Henry’s 5’6" thin and frail frame. Locke was 6'4 and strong, with a natural confidence that drew people to him. Growing up, Henry had idolized his father. But as years passed, admiration turned into something more complicated.

He glanced at his hands on the wheel. Dainty hands that were connected to an equally soft body. “Why couldn’t I have gotten his genes instead of Mom’s?” he sighed, his voice filled with quiet frustration. The thought made him clench his jaw. His mother, kind and petite, had passed down her smaller frame to him. He was constantly reminded of it every time he literally looked up at his father. “What’s wrong with me?” he whispered.

Outside, the snowflakes danced in the wind, oblivious to the turmoil in the car. Henry pulled into the driveway, the tires crunching softly over the fresh layer of snow. The sight of the house, its windows glowing warmly against the winter night, brought a flicker of comfort. He parked the car and sat for a moment, staring at the front door. Inside were his parents, eager to see him. His mother’s hugs always felt like safety, but his father…

He grabbed his duffel bag, stepped out into the icy air, and made his way to the door. Before he could knock, it swung open, and his mother’s beaming face greeted him. “Henry!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. Her petite frame barely came up to his chest, but her embrace was as strong as ever. “Hi, Mom,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Come in, come in. You’ll freeze out here!” she said, ushering him inside.

The familiar warmth of home wrapped around him, the scent of baked goods and pine filling his senses. Locke appeared in the hallway, his imposing frame nearly filling the doorway. “There’s my boy,” Locke said with a grin, his voice deep and hearty. He clapped a hand on Henry’s shoulder, and though the gesture was light, it felt like a small reminder of the difference in their builds. “Hey, Dad,” Henry replied, forcing his smile to stay in place.

They settled into the living room, Henry sinking into the couch while his parents took their usual spots. His mother peppered him with questions about school, friends, and the drive home, her voice warm and comforting. Locke chimed in occasionally, asking about his grades and plans for the future.

“Now that I'm settled in college, I was thinking of joining the gym and maybe a sports club..” Henry rushly added. Locke looked at his son and sighed, “Henry you do know I'm proud of you. You’re a smart guy. You should stick to that. The whole academic route.” Those words stung Henry. Even though Locke meant then to praise his son's natural talent in academia, all Henry could hear was that his dad would never be proud of him.

“I got a 3.8 GPA this semester,” Henry said, trying to sound proud. “That’s great, son,” Locke said sincerely, nodding. “You’ve been working hard.” But even as Locke’s words carried genuine pride, Henry couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. There was a gap between them, one he didn’t know how to bridge. As a boy, Henry could recall his dad, hoping he would grow up to be a jock. But, no matter what, Henry showed an ineptitude for anything athletic. Puberty was the final nail on the coffin. He wanted to impress his dad, but it was like the universe made that dream impossible.

Henry’s mother sensed the shift in his mood and quickly changed the subject to holiday plans, but the damage was done. Henry felt himself withdrawing, sinking deeper into the couch. Locke watched his son quietly. He didn’t push further, in fear of making things worse. The conversation with his parents wound down, and Henry excused himself to head upstairs. The long drive had left him drained, and unpacking his things was enough to keep his mind occupied, at least for a while. Yet, as he folded clothes and placed books on the desk in his childhood bedroom, his thoughts lingered on the quiet tension he always felt when it came to his dad.

After unpacking, Henry hadn’t realized how much time had passed. The muffled sound of voices and laughter drifted up from downstairs. Curious, he walked quietly to the staircase. His dad’s friends had come over, as they often did for their usual drink nights. Peeking, as he sat on the top step, Henry saw his dad seated in the living room with three other men. They spoke loud, half-empty beers in hand, their banter filled with the easy familiarity of lifelong friendships.

“Ah, it’s good to have the kids back, huh?” one of the men said, grinning. “Yeah,” another chimed in. “All our boys are home. You know what we should do? Get them together for some basketball. Just like the old days.” The group erupted in laughter, but then one of them nudged Locke. “Well, except for your kid, Locke. Henry’s not exactly varsity material, is he?” The words were a gut punch, but Henry stayed frozen in place, listening.

“Remember that one time we tried to play three-on-three, and Henry tripped over his own feet?” Another added with a chuckle. “Poor kid.” Henry’s chest tightened as the laughter rang out. He felt rooted to the spot, caught between anger and humiliation. Locke held up a hand, his laughter fading. “Hey,” he said firmly, his tone quiet but resolute. “My son might not be a jock, but he’s smart. Real smart. And that means more to me than any game ever could.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the men shifting awkwardly in their seats. Locke’s expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of frustration in his eyes. Henry swallowed hard and retreated quietly to his room. His father’s words should have been comforting, but all he could focus on was the hurt in Locke’s face when he said them.

Henry sat on the edge of his bed, his mind replaying the scene downstairs. The laughter, the casual mockery, and even his father’s defense of him. It all twisted inside him. He stared at his reflection in the small mirror on his wall. His scrawny frame mocked him as much as the voices of his dad’s friends. He clenched his fists, frustration boiling over. “Why can’t I just be different?” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “Why can’t I make him proud?”

The thought bubbled up before he could stop it, slipping from his lips like a whispered prayer. “I wish I had the kind of body that would make anyone proud… the kind of body Dad could brag about.” For a moment, nothing happened. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of the wind outside. Henry sighed, shaking his head at his own foolishness. In a sense of a familiar defeat, he went to sleep off his frustration. But the night would not play out like so many times before. The air in the room seemed to shimmer faintly as though responding to his words. A gift from an unseen force was being gifted.

---------------------------------------------------

Henry woke with a stiff haze.. As he moved, he noticed an unfamiliar sensation of weight and strength in his limbs. The bed beneath him felt larger, firmer than he was used to, and the light streaming through the window hit walls he didn’t recognize. Confused, he sat up, his movements sluggish as though his body didn’t quite respond the way it should. He blinked, taking in his surroundings. He seemed to be in a hotel room and a nice one at that.

“What…?” he muttered, his voice deeper, resonating in his chest. A startle that made him grab his own throat. His hands felt strong, and his throat was thicker. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and as his feet hit the floor, sooner then they should. He realized they were larger, much larger. His hands, too, were broad and calloused, veins prominent across their surface.

Heart pounding, he stumbled to the full-length mirror across the room. What stared back at him wasn’t his reflection. Instead, a towering, shirtless, muscular figure filled the 7’1" frame. Short blond hair, piercing eyes, and a physique that radiated athleticism, it was the body of Meyers Leonard, the professional basketball player. Henry’s breath caught in his throat as he raised his hands, watching the reflection do the same. He flexed experimentally, the muscles in his arms rippling with ease.

“This… this can’t be real,” he whispered, his voice still unfamiliar. Henry took a step back from the mirror, still reeling from the sight of his reflection. His hands trembled as he pressed them against his chest, feeling the solid wall of muscle beneath his fingertips. His pecs, broad and defined, moved subtly with even the smallest shift in his posture. He trailed his hands down to his abdomen, marveling at the ridged firmness of his abs.

“Holy…,” he breathed, unable to finish the sentence. He flexed his biceps experimentally, watching them swell. His fingers traced the veins that ran like rivers across his forearms, his skin taut over powerful muscles. The height was another shock. He turned and walked to the door, each step heavy yet controlled. The ceiling felt closer, the furniture smaller. His perspective on the world had shifted dramatically.

Standing near the bed, he glanced down at his legs. They were tree trunks of muscle, powerful and sturdy. The sheer size of them was astonishing. He bent down to touch his calves before sitting back on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, pulling one foot onto his knee. His jaw dropped.

“Look at these things,” he muttered, holding his foot up for inspection. The size dwarfed anything he’d ever imagined. His feet were massive, the kind that filled shoes designed for giants. He set his foot down and spread his legs, resting his hands on his knees. His thighs were so large, making the usual posture of sitting feel entirely different.

Henry’s heart raced as he tried to process it all. This body wasn’t just strong; it was a machine engineered for athleticism. He could feel the power in every movement, the effortless grace and control that came with it. “This is insane,” he whispered.

Henry’s startled reflection still stared back at him when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He turned to grab it, fumbling slightly with the device in his massive hands.

The screen lit up with a message:

Coach Johnson: Don’t be late. Practice starts at 11. Big game tonight. Let’s show them what you’re made of.

His stomach dropped. A game? Tonight? “Oh, no,” he muttered, pacing the room. “I can barely dribble a ball, let alone play in a professional game!” Panic surged through him as the implications hit. If this was really Meyers Leonard’s life, any misstep could cost him his career. Henry felt the weight of the responsibility pressing down on him. But, he couldn’t just stay in the room and do nothing. “Okay, okay. Start small,” he told himself, trying to calm his racing thoughts. “Shower. Get cleaned up. Maybe I’ll figure out what to do after that.”

He made his way to the lavish hotel bathroom. The shower was enormous, with a rainfall showerhead and plenty of room for someone of Meyers’ stature. A shower that would have dwarfed his original body. As the warm water cascaded over him, washing away his anxiety bit by bit, something strange began to happen. Echos of familiarity crept into his mind. With eyes closed, he reached for the soap instinctively. It was as if he had already known the layout of the shower from a previous use. “Wait.” He questioned. His tested this feeling. His mind was thinking of what he'd wear when he got out. To his surprise, memories of clothes he packed entered his mind.

Stepping out of the shower and drying himself, Henry felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could figure this out. He dressed quickly, slipping into a classic white T-shirt and black dock shorts that felt strange yet familiar. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at how perfect the fit was. Each piece fitted perfectly, tailored to accommodate Meyers’ broad shoulders and long limbs. Without thought, he found the keys to Meyers’ car on the dresser.

“This is all mine now,” he murmured, glancing at a mirror before heading out.It was all part of Meyers Leonard’s life, and now, somehow, his. He headed to the parking structure, his jaw dropping at the sight of the car parked where his memories told him he parked. A sleek, luxury SUV gleamed under the overhead lights, its chrome accents catching his eye. “Wow,” Henry whispered, running a hand over the smooth surface before climbing in. The interior was just as impressive; leather seats, advanced tech displays, and a faint scent of cologne mixed with the smell of the new car.

As he adjusted the seat, he realized he couldn’t quite make himself comfortable. “Man, even this is a tight fit,” he muttered, shifting awkwardly to accommodate his long legs and broader shoulders. The steering wheel felt smaller in his hands, and he had to angle his knees just right to fit under the dash. Despite the snug space, the car started smoothly, its engine purring with power. As Henry pulled out of the garage, a sense of familiarity settled over him again. He hadn’t seen the practice facility before, yet he knew exactly where to go.

He navigated the streets with ease, as though the route had been etched into his memory. The city around him felt both foreign and strangely recognizable, adding to the surrealness of the situation. “This is insane,” he said aloud, the deep resonance of Meyers’ voice still catching him off guard. By the time he pulled into the facility’s parking lot, Henry’s nerves were back. The sprawling building loomed ahead, and he knew he was about to face something completely out of his depth.

Henry stepped out of the car, his nerves flaring as he saw a group of tall, athletic men gathered near the entrance. His coach and teammates were already there, chatting and stretching, their voices echoing in the cool morning air. One of them glanced his way. “About time, Leonard,” the man called out, grinning. Henry raised a hand awkwardly in response, forcing a casual smile. His heart pounded in his chest as he hurried inside. He had no idea what these people expected from him. He barely knew how to hold a basketball, let alone keep up with professionals.

Inside the locker room, he found his assigned locker. His practice clothes were neatly folded, waiting for him. Henry fumbled a bit, pulling on the oversized jersey and shorts that fit his massive frame perfectly. The shoes were enormous, yet they slid on with ease, feeling like an extension of his body. “Alright, here goes nothing,” he muttered, stepping out of the locker room. The gym was massive, the polished floor gleaming under the bright lights. The other players were already warming up, dribbling, shooting, and passing with an ease that made Henry’s stomach churn. He grabbed a ball from the rack and hesitated.

As he dribbled experimentally, something happened. His hands moved instinctively, controlling the ball with precision. His feet adjusted to the rhythm, and his body shifted effortlessly into a stance that felt natural, even though it shouldn’t have been. “Leonard! Let’s go!” Coach Johnson barked, motioning for him to join a drill. Henry jogged onto the court, his steps fluid and confident despite his nerves. The drill started, and he found himself weaving through cones, making passes, and sinking shots with astonishing accuracy.

His body moved on its own, each motion guided by muscle memory. He was faster, stronger, and more coordinated than he had ever imagined. As the practice continued, he found himself keeping and more. He was a part of the team. He executed plays with ease, his passes crisp and precise, his shots smooth. Henry grinned, breathing hard but exhilarated. The sheer athleticism of this body, the power and control. It was intoxicating. For the first time, he felt like he belonged.

Practice wrapped up with a final whistle, and Henry found himself drenched in sweat but riding a wave of confidence he hadn’t felt in years. He began to shower and change back into his clothes. And, for a moment, he forgot the strangeness of his situation. He wasn’t Henry anymore. He was Meyers Leonard, an athlete at the top of his game.

“Yo, Leonard!” one of the players called, slapping him on the back. “We’re hitting up Joey’s for lunch. You in?” Henry hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. “Yeah, sure!” he said, trying to sound as casual as possible. The group headed out to a local sports bar, laughing and joking as they piled into their cars. Henry followed. Noting how natural he belong with these other tall men. These were the kind of guys who would’ve made him feel invisible back in his old life. Now, he was one of them.

At the bar, they claimed a large booth, ordering burgers, wings, and beers. Henry found himself laughing along with their stories, his deep voice blending seamlessly into the conversation. “Man, I hate these December games,” one of the guys grumbled, shaking his head. “Working this close to Christmas sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” another chimed in. “At least we get a couple of days off after tonight. You heading home for the holiday, Leonard?” Henry froze for a split second, his heart skipping a beat. “Uh, yeah,” he said, keeping his tone even. “I’ve got a flight tomorrow morning. Gonna rush back to see the family.” The table nodded in approval, and someone added, “Good for you, man. Your wife must be thrilled. And the kid, how are they doing?”

Henry forced a smile, feeling a bead of sweat form on his temple. He hadn’t even thought about Meyers’ family until now. “Oh, uh… they’re great,” he said, scrambling internally for details. “Really looking forward to seeing them.” Thankfully, the conversation moved on quickly, and Henry relaxed. As they joked and shared stories, flashes of Meyers’ life surfaced in his mind again. He remembered a ticket confirmation, Meyers had indeed booked a flight home for tomorrow.

Henry left the bar with his teammates, his laughter and easy banter masking the swirl of emotions within him. The day had been a whirlwind of experiences, and as the game approached, he felt a mix of excitement and nerves. Back at the arena, Henry threw himself into Meyers’ pregame routine. He followed the warm-up drills with precision, leaned into the stretches, and even mirrored some of his teammates’ rituals. The muscle memory guided him effortlessly, and yet, a part of him couldn’t shake how surreal it all felt.

As he sat in the locker room before the game, Henry took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. The energy around him was electric, teammates hyping each other up, coaches delivering final strategies, and the hum of the crowd just outside. But for Henry, the moment felt still. He pulled out Meyers’ phone, thumbing through the gallery. Photos of Meyers’ wife, her warm smile lighting up the frame. Pictures of a baby boy followed.

“This is my life now,” Henry whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe the sheer luck that had fallen on him. A loving family, a thriving career, a body built for greatness. But then, his thoughts turned to his own family. His real family. The ones who wouldn’t recognize him now, who had no idea what had happened to him. Did he still exist to them? Was the real Meyers in his body. The idea made his stomach churn. Was Meyers experiencing the same confusion and disorientation that Henry had? Dealing with the insecurities and struggles Henry had left behind?

Henry shook his head, trying to focus. “One step at a time,” he muttered, gripping the phone tightly. He needed to get through the game tonight. Everything else would have to wait. The roar of the crowd was deafening as Henry stepped onto the court. The bright lights, the energy in the air, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. His nerves had melted away the moment the game began, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and focus. He moved with the flow of the game, his body responding instinctively. Every pass, every jump, every sprint felt natural, like he’d been doing this his entire life, at least, Meyers had.

The game was intense, a back-and-forth battle that kept everyone on edge. Henry found himself thriving in the competition, feeding off the energy of his teammates and the crowd. He loved the camaraderie, the unspoken communication on the court, the shared goal of victory. “Leonard!” a teammate shouted, and Henry snapped to attention, catching a pass and immediately spotting an opening. Without hesitation, he made a crisp, perfectly timed pass to the team’s star player. The crowd held its breath as the ball soared through the air. The player caught it, squared up, and shot just as the buzzer sounded. The ball sailed cleanly through the hoop.

Swish.

The stadium erupted in cheers. Henry stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding as he processed what had just happened. They’d won. His teammates swarmed the court. He was wrapped into the celebration. In the locker room, the celebration continued. Music blasted, players danced and laughed, and Henry found himself caught up in the revelry. He leaned back against his locker, a grin spreading across his face as he watched his teammates. He loved this feeling, the teamwork, the exhilaration of victory, the shared triumph. It was everything he’d dreamed of but never thought he’d have.

As he toweled off and joined the others, someone handed him a drink, and they raised a toast to the night’s win. Henry clinked glasses with the team, laughing and savoring the moment. For a brief time, all the questions and doubts faded away. He wasn’t just pretending to be Meyers Leonard. He was Meyers Leonard. With the locker room celebration wound down, one of the players clapped Henry on the back and grinned. “Hey, Leonard, we’re hitting up Revolution to celebrate. You in?”

Henry hesitated, feeling a strange, instinctive pull of reluctance in his chest. It was as though Meyers’ body itself was signaling that this wasn’t something he’d normally do. Maybe Meyers was more of a straight-laced family man. But Henry shook off the hesitation. This was his life now, his body. And for once, he wasn’t going to hold back. “Yeah, I’m in,” he said with a grin, his deep voice cutting through the noise.

The team piled into cars, and soon Henry found himself stepping into a pulsating nightclub. The atmosphere hit him like a wave, the flashing lights, the pounding bass, the press of bodies moving to the rhythm. It was chaotic and exhilarating. He followed his teammates to a VIP section, where drinks were already waiting. Henry grabbed a beer and took a swig, letting the alcohol amplify the buzz of victory still thrumming through him.

As the night wore on, the vibe became electric. People recognized the players, cheering and congratulating them. For the first time, Henry was at the center of attention, not as an awkward, unnoticed college kid, but as a confident, admired athlete. Girls approached, smiling and flirting, their eyes wide with excitement. Henry couldn’t believe it. These women weren’t just talking to him; they were drawn to him.

The chaotic energy of the club, the high from the win, the drinks, it all mixed into a heady concoction. Before he knew it, a woman with striking eyes and a bright smile was leaning close, her hand resting on his chest. They exchanged a few playful words, though Henry couldn’t quite hear her over the music. Then it happened. She tilted her head, her lips brushing against his. It was tentative at first, but Henry leaned in, letting the moment take over. Their kiss deepened, the crowd around them fading into a blur of lights and sound.

For a fleeting moment, Henry’s mind raced. Was this what Meyers would do? What about his wife and kid? But he pushed the thoughts aside. Right now, he wasn’t worried about Meyers or his responsibilities. This was his night, his life, and he was claiming it.

Henry was fully immersed in the moment, his confidence swelling as he bantered and flirted with the women who kept gravitating toward him. For the first time in his life, he felt like the charismatic, confident center of attention. The girl he’d been kissing leaned in, laughing at something he said, and he flashed her an easy smile. The flashing lights and pounding music made the entire night feel like a surreal dream, one he wasn’t ready to wake up from.

But then a voice cut through the haze. “Yo, Leonard!” one of his teammates called out, making his way through the crowd. “What the hell are you doing, man?” Henry froze, turning to see two of his teammates approaching. One of them looked serious, his brow furrowed in disbelief, while the other was grinning, clearly amused. “You’ve got a wife, dude,” the serious one said, crossing his arms. “You forget about her or something?”

Henry opened his mouth, scrambling for an explanation, but the grinning teammate cut in. “Relax, man,” he said, clapping Henry on the shoulder. “Let him have some fun. This is what being a star is all about!” The serious one shook his head. “That’s not the Leonard I know. You’re always talking about how much you love your wife and kids, and now you’re out here acting like ... this?”

Henry felt a wave of shame and panic rise in his chest. He hadn’t considered how his behavior might look to the people who actually knew Meyers. But then the grinning teammate chimed in again. “C’mon, it’s one night. Let the guy enjoy himself. Besides, it’s not like anyone’s taking this seriously, right?” Henry forced a laugh, trying to play it off. “Yeah, yeah, just blowing off some steam after the game. No big deal.”

The serious teammate didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged and turned back toward the bar. “Just… don’t do something you’ll regret, alright?” As the teammate walked away, the other one leaned in, still smirking. “You’re not usually like this, but honestly? Kinda refreshing. Feels like you’re finally loosening up. Keep it up, man.” Henry watched him leave, the girl at his side tugging at his arm, trying to pull him back into the moment. But his excitement was starting to wane. His teammates’ reactions had shaken him, reminding him that no matter how much fun he was having, this wasn’t really his life.

Henry gently pulled away from the girl, forcing a tight smile as he muttered something about needing a moment. He didn’t wait for her response. The swirling guilt in his chest was too heavy, too consuming, to stay in the noise and chaos of the club. Slipping past the throngs of people, he found his way outside. The cool night air hit his face, but it did little to calm the storm in his mind. He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, his broad chest rising and falling as the weight of the evening bore down on him.

He wiped his face, only to realize his eyes were wet. Tears? He hadn’t even noticed. He turned away from the bouncer at the door, hiding his expression as he struggled to pull himself together. The memory of that kiss played over and over in his mind. He hadn’t thought twice about it at the time, but now it felt like a betrayal. Not just to Meyers’ wife, but to the life this man had built; a life Henry was intruding on.

“This isn’t fair,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the muffled bass of the club. He had everything he’d ever wanted: strength, confidence, popularity, respect. The type of body that commanded attention, the life of a successful athlete. And yet, standing there under the cold streetlights, he felt hollow. This wasn’t his body. This wasn’t his life. It was Meyers’ life, carefully constructed and full of relationships and responsibilities Henry didn’t know how to handle.

His thoughts drifted to his family; his real family. His own connection that he would never have anymore being trapped in this body. He missed his dad, even though he’d spent most of his life feeling like he wasn’t good enough for him. He could almost hear Locke’s voice, offering some kind of sage advice, grounding him in a way no one else could. But what would Locke say now that Henry was living someone else’s life? Being selfish in that body? Stealing a life that wasn't his?

The thought of Meyers being trapped in his old, weak, awkward body twisted the guilt even further. What was he going through? Was he struggling to find a way back to everything he lost? Everyone he loved and cared about. Henry clenched his fists, staring down at the hands that weren’t his. Large, powerful hands that could grip a basketball like it was nothing. These hands should feel like a gift, but right now, they felt like a curse. “Do I even deserve this?” he whispered.

The tears came freely now, streaking down his face as he stood there, alone and uncertain. The life he’d always wanted was right in front of him, but it wasn’t his to live. And the unfairness of it all ... the sheer impossibility of finding a way to make this right threatened to crush him. Henry wiped his face and took a steadying breath. The guilt and confusion swirled within him, but he made a decision: he needed to leave. There was no point in staying here, pretending to enjoy the night. He flagged down a cab and gave the driver the address to Meyers’ hotel.

The ride was quiet, the streets gliding by as Henry leaned his head against the window, his mind racing. He thought about the flight tomorrow and about meeting Meyers’ family; his wife and kid. He knew now this wasn’t his life. It never would be. But if he was going to be stuck in this body, he owed it to Meyers to keep things intact. He had to live the life Meyers would have wanted.

When he got back to the hotel room, he took a moment to absorb the space. It was luxurious. He undressed. Sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at his reflection in the darkened window, the man looking back at him was everything he’d dreamed of being: tall, strong, confident. Yet, it all felt wrong. Kicking off his shoes, he stretched out on the bed, his body sinking into the plush mattress. He set an alarm on Meyers’ phone for the early morning flight and let his eyes drift closed.

As the exhaustion of the day caught up with him, he found himself whispering into the stillness of the room. “I just want to go back,” he said, his voice cracking. “I wish… I wish everything would go back and be perfect.” The words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, just as he drifted off, a faint, otherworldly sensation swept over him, like a ripple in the fabric of reality.

---------------------------------------------------

The next day, Henry stirred awake, blinking against the dim light filtering through his bedroom curtains. He yawned, stretching, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt normal. The familiar scent of his room, the creak of his old mattress, it was all unmistakably home.

A wave of relief washed over him. "I’m back." But as he shifted, something felt … different. His legs stuck out awkwardly over the edge of his bed, something that had never happened before. The covers felt tighter, almost constraining, as if they’d shrunk overnight. He looked down and saw his feet larger than he remembered, sticking out from beneath the blanket. “What the—?” he muttered, sitting up abruptly.

The movement felt strange, too. His body was heavier, stronger, and as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet thudded against the floor with a weight that startled him. Henry looked down at his hands. They were bigger, calloused in a way they hadn’t been before. He ran them over his arms, his chest, and his stomach. Everything was thicker and stronger. His heart raced as he stood, his head brushing the ceiling fan in a way it never had before.

“What’s going on?” he whispered, his voice trembling. He stumbled to the mirror on his closet door, his larger feet making unfamiliar thuds against the wooden floor. When he saw his reflection, he froze. It was him, or at least, a version of him. His face was unmistakably his own, but his body… His body looked like it had been carved from stone, tall and muscular.. It was as if someone had taken his DNA and remixed it with an athlete’s.

“Is this… me?” he said aloud, his voice deeper and richer than it had been the day before. He turned, marveling at the size of his shoulders, the way his arms bulged as he moved. He lifted his shirt and saw abs that looked like they belonged in a fitness magazine. His once-oversized pajama pants were now clinging tightly to his legs, stretched to their limits. Despite the initial shock, a flicker of joy began to spark in his chest. He wasn’t Meyers Leonard anymore, but he wasn’t the old Henry either. Somehow, his wish had transformed him into a version of himself that seemed almost… perfect.

As Henry stood there, still grappling with the sight of his new body in the mirror, a knock sounded at his bedroom door. Before he could respond, his dad, Locke, stepped in with his usual confident stride. “Morning, kiddo,” Locke said, his tone warm and easy. He glanced around the room and then gestured at the bed. “Sorry about the setup. Your old bed was falling apart, and we couldn’t get a custom-sized one delivered in time for your visit. Guess it’s a little snug, huh?”

Henry froze. He stared at his dad, waiting for some kind of reaction, shock, confusion, anything about his now towering frame. But Locke didn’t even bat an eye. Instead, Locke walked up to him and gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Hope you slept okay, though. You’re gonna need all the rest you can get before the big game.”

“The game?” Henry croaked, his deeper voice startling even himself. Locke grinned. “Yeah, the basketball game! The other dads and sons don’t stand a chance now that you’re playing. I mean, come on, my son, a soon-to-be pro? They’re in for a rude awakening.” Henry’s breath caught in his throat. He looked at his dad’s face, the lines of pride and excitement so vivid it almost didn’t feel real.

For a moment, Henry felt like he was going to break down. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep his emotions in check. This was what he’d always wanted. Not just his dad’s approval, but to feel like he deserved it. To feel proud of himself in return. “You okay, son?” Locke asked, his tone softening. Henry nodded quickly, clearing his throat. “Yeah, Dad. Just… thinking about the game.”

Locke grinned again and pointed toward the closet. “Good. You’ve got your stuff ready, right? Let’s show them what we’re made of.” As Locke turned to leave, Henry couldn’t help but marvel at the surrealness of the moment. Here he was, taller than his dad, stronger, and finally feeling like he belonged.

Henry watched as his dad left the room, his heavy footsteps fading down the hall. Once the coast was clear, he grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom. He needed time to himself, to process everything. As he stepped into the bathroom, he couldn’t help but glance at the mirror again. His reflection drew his full attention. The tall, muscular figure staring back at him still felt surreal, but the more he looked, the more he felt a rush of pride and excitement.

He ran his hands over his broad shoulders, flexed his powerful arms, and twisted to admire the sculpted definition of his back. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath, and even the way his abs tightened when he moved made him grin. “This is me now,” he whispered, his voice carrying a note of awe.

Henry stood there for a moment, taking it all in. He thought about Meyers, the man whose life he’d stepped into for a brief, chaotic day. A man with a family, a career, and a reputation Henry could have easily destroyed. But he hadn’t. The temptation had been there, but so had the guilt.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something strange on the counter. A small card, simple and plain, with elegant handwriting on the front: To Henry. He picked it up, curiosity prickling his skin, and opened it. The message inside made his heart skip:

"Henry,

You were given the opportunity to take what you wanted most. You could have claimed Meyers’ life and left him with nothing. But even when you stumbled, your remorse showed your true character. You’re a good person, Henry. And you’ve earned this second chance to become the man you always dreamed of being.

Merry Christmas,

Santa Claus"

Henry stared at the card, his emotions swirling with gratitude, relief, and a sense of validation he hadn’t known he needed. He looked back at his reflection in the mirror and saw himself smiling, a genuine, confident smile. For the first time, he was proud of himself.

Folding the card carefully, he tucked it into his pocket. As he finished getting ready, his mind raced with plans for the future. He would make the most of this second chance, and maybe one day, if the opportunity arose, he’d find Meyers and thank him in person.

For now, though, he had a game to play. A game where he could show his dad and himself what he was truly capable of. With a deep breath and a renewed sense of purpose, Henry headed downstairs to join his father, ready to step into his new life.

#body #swap #transformation #male #tf #mischief #stories #male body swap #male body tf #male transformation #7th Annual TG Story Exchange

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eddiesxangel · 8 months ago

Text

So High School | E.M x Reader

TJ's 2K Request Celebration

@ilovewomen0099 Request: So High School - Taylor Swift. I hope it’s what you wanted 🩷

Cw: tooth rotting FLUFF, making out, date night, allusions to smut.

wc: 1.2k

And in a blink of a crinkling eye

I'm sinking, our fingers entwined

Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights

“Babe, look!” Eddie points to the rickety wooden Ferris Wheel that didn’t look all that trustworthy.

“I don’t know about that one?” You hold back.

“Why? Are you scared? He taunts you as he pulls you in closer.

You’re in the middle of the fairgrounds, but you don’t care; the other people can walk around you.

“No.” You counter back, but it’s not very convincing.

“Don’t worry I’ll protect you.” He catches you off guard by peppering your face with so many kisses you’ve lost count.

Nothing made you feel as light and airy as Eddie had. Nobody could ever compare. You know he is in it for you, even if you’ve just started dating, you can feel it; he’s the one.

“Come in, scaredy cat,” he grins before pulling you to the line.

Eddie admired the twinkling lights that reflected off your skin as you gripped onto him for dear life. Somehow, he convinced you to come up with him.

“I might loose circulation in this arm but it was worth it.”

You snort in response at his lame joke. “Tell me how this is worth it.”

“Because you look so beautiful.” He tucks a piece of hair caught in the wind behind your ear, and you swear your heart skips a beat. Suddenly, you feel like you're sixteen and back in high school. Any time Eddie looks at you, you act like a schoolgirl all over again.

Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me

Walking together, fingers not daring to let go of one another’s, even if Eddie’s chunky rings were digging into your skin.

“You know the first time I saw you I ran and hid.” Eddie admits sheepishly.

“What?” you giggle, confused by the admission.

“God, I don’t know why I’m telling you this; you just bring it out in me, baby.”

“Please tell me” you give him the good old puppy eye look that you’ve figured out that he can’t resist.

“Ok, um-well, Dustin and I were getting coffee before Hellfire because, you know, we need our energy, and you were in line ahead of us. I didn't see you at first, but when you turned to your friend- I think you were with Tara? I'm not sure I wasn't really focused on her because when I saw you...you made my heart skip a beat, I swear. I didn't know how to approach you, so I told Dustin to order my coffee and hid in the bathroom." He rambled.

"Eddie-"

"Dustin busted my balls the whole night about it, too."

"So you saw me before?"

"Yes, and I let you slip away so you could imagine how grateful I was when I saw you again that night we met." Eddie wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, never wanting to let you go. He couldn't believe what his life would have been like if he had lost you in the crowd at Steve's party that night.

You felt an infectious sense of giddiness, reminiscent of a schoolgirl, every time you were with Eddie. Even though you knew it was the honeymoon phase, you cherished every single moment spent with him.

"Well, I first saw you at Steve's part and knew I had to have you. Your bad boy metal thing really got me going," you giggle.

"All a part of the brand, baby"

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

It's just a game, but really

I'm bettin' on all three for us two

As you were walking to the fairgrounds, you stumbled upon the Fortune teller's tent. Eddie gives you a knowing look, but you pull him along anyway.

"If you made me get on that Ferris Wheel, we are so doing this."

Before Eddie could argue how much of a scam this would be, you tugged his jacket sleeve and pulled him into the red and white striped tent.

The inside of the tent was a mesmerizing sight. Colourful fabrics and intricately designed rugs adorned the space, creating a warm and mystical atmosphere. Glittering crystals hung from the ceiling, catching the light and casting prismatic reflections across the interior. In the center of the tent, a small circular table stood, its surface adorned with intricate carvings and holding a clear crystal ball that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly glow. Seated at the table was an elderly woman with long, faded red hair that cascaded down her back. She was dressed in a dark green robe that seemed to blend with the surroundings, and her nails were painted black and extended six inches, adding an air of all-knowing.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" she sheepishly grinned.

"Hello, this is my boyfriend, Eddie, and I'm Y/N."

"Shouldn't she know that?" Eddie scoffed under his breath.

"Welcome, non-believer and his lovely girlfrined."

"See, she knows!" You nudge his side with your elbow.

"Babe, are you kidding me?"

You ignore him, plop him down, and sit in his lap, seeing only one chair.

"What is it you seek?" She quirks a brow.

"Nothing specific; tell us what you see for us.

"Baby, I don't think that's a good idea?"

"Hush." You shush him, and Eddie holds his tongue. He loved when you took charge, but this was a bit much even for Eddie.

You turn to the wise-looking woman across from you and watch as she examines you before taking out the tarot cards. She shuffled messily and flipped over three onto the table. You looked intently as you saw the lover's car, the three cups and the empress.

"What's the verdict? She going to marry, kiss or kill me?" Eddie jokes, and you playfully smack his chest.

"I see all good things here; you have a strong relationship with a potent feminine energy. Your friends support this union as do your family."

"Does that say lovers? Am I getting banged tonight?" Eddie whispers in your ear.

"Not if you keep it up." ou wiggle your ass into his crotch only to tease him more.y

"I feel confident in this power dynamic; you can keep him in his place while submitting when needed."

"She submits alright." Eddie snorts, and your eyes go wide with mortification.

"Edward!" you cry.

"Exactly my point. That will be thirty-five dollars."

Get my car door, isn't that sweet?

Then pull me to the backseat

No one's ever had me, not like you.

"M'lady," Eddie's oh-so-grandiose display of chivalry didn't go unnoticed as he swung open the back of the van door so you could put your giant plushie he won you in the back.

"Thank you, kind Sir." you present curtsy and reach into the van to place your giant teddy bear on the floor.

Eddie brushes past you, popping himself into the van before pulling you in after him. Quickly, he shuts the door and sits you both in the back bench seat pulling you into a needy kiss.

"Waited to do that all damn night." his hands find your ass cheeks as you're sat in his lap.

"We made out on that death trap you call a ride," you mumble into his mouth, and Eddie sees this as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, and you sense the urgency in which he needs you.

"Okay, big boy, let's take this party home."

"What, you don't want to fuck me in the parking lot like a couple of hory kids?"

"Please, that's so high school."

Tagging some of my swiftie mooties : @andvys @taintedcigs @ghost-proofbaby @ceriseheaven

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson concept #eddie munson #Spotify

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lymtw · 8 months ago

Text

Gym Buddies

"Hey, it's, uh, Toji from... Fuck, why am I telling you this? You already know. Well, you said I could hit you up if I ever needed a gym buddy... So, how 'bout it? Maybe in an hour or so? Alright, let me know."

You laugh as you listen to the voicemail for the third time in a row. He sounds dumber and dumber, but in the most adorable way, every time you play it again. You're tempted to get back to him, but it's been two hours since he left that voicemail. You weren't able to answer when he called because you had just gotten home from work and you left your phone on the couch while you went to change into comfy clothes. Maybe he'll answer if you shoot him a text message.

Hey, sorry I didn't get back to you earlier

Just got home from work

He didn't answer fast at all. You figured maybe the window of opportunity had closed and he went to sleep or something. So, you went to your kitchen cabinet and grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass. You put some popcorn in the microwave and transfered it into a bowl once it was ready. You set everything down on your coffee table, and picked up the TV remote, but before you could turn the TV on, you heard a buzz.

Don't sweat it, unless you're doing it at the gym with me ;)

I'm still down if you are. Want me to pick you up?

You giggle at the corny first message.

I could go for an hour or so.

Are you sure you're fine picking me up?

Just send the address. I'll be there soon.

—

Toji shows up at your place fifteen minutes later, honking twice to let you know he's there. You open the blinds to peek through the window, and he greets you with a raise of his hand above the steering wheel. Why you felt your heartbeat pick up after that, you're not sure.

You grabbed your things, turning off all the lights except for the porch light. You've stumbled on the stairs once, stumbled even twice, but you will not stumble a third time, so the light stays on.

Toji unlocks the car, looking around to make sure there's nothing in the way for when you get in.

"Hey," you smile, inspecting the passenger seat to make sure you don't sit on any of his stuff. "Thanks for picking me up." You enter the car, everything sinking in when the door shuts.

You look at the man beside you, taking in his appearance. He looks the same as last time, but for some reason you don't recall him being so handsome. Perhaps, it was your adrenaline getting in the way when you first met him, and the fact that he was pushing the hell out of you when your arms started shaking at the pullup bar.

"Don't worry about it. I know it's a little scarier to travel alone at night, so what kind of man would I be if I let you leave your house alone at this time?"

You laugh, putting on your seatbelt while he backs the car out of the parking spot. You kept yourself in check by declaring that he was only objectively attractive for now. You don't know him well enough to say he's a good man, or that you trust him entirely, but he's gaining some of your trust, given this is only the second time you've seen him, and he already knows where you live.

Throughout the drive to the gym, you and Toji talked about yourselves. How long you both lived in the area, hobbies, whether you were in school or working, or both. It was a conversation that scratched the surface off, allowing you both to dig deeper and make room for friendship.

—

Toji told you stretching is always a must, especially if he's working out with someone else. He doesn't want them to get hurt once the workouts got more intense, and he won't be held responsible for any muscle damage. He's being especially pushy with you, though.

"We're not moving on until you stretch, so get on the stupid mat."

He watches you pace around, turning to avoid his intense gaze. You sigh, bored and ready to start the more rigorous stuff. "I never do this. I usually start out with a run and go from there." You plop down onto the mat, just sitting there.

His brows furrow, the information not processing in his head. For someone who claims to go to the gym enough, you don't take the correct precautions necessary to avoid damaging your body. "That's a perfect way to develop shin splints, dummy." In his mind, his eyes are rolling straight out of his head. "Alright, just follow my lead. Mirror me."

He had you doing leg stretches, lunges, calf stretches, quads, the whole nine yards. There were times when he stopped to watch you, to make sure you were doing it correctly. When you got to the supine stretches, his eyes went low on your body. You felt like you were being torn with all the stretching. This made you gain a new level of respect for Toji starting all his workouts this way.

Toji kept his eyes on you, unable to ignore the groans and hisses you let out. He didn't know what compelled him to stand so close over your head, but he ended up helping you out. With his hand locked around your ankle, he pulled your leg back just a little more.

"Huh?" You tilt your head up to look at Toji. You weren't sure if you had missed something he said and he went on to the next stretch, but his touch had you shaking.

"You should be feeling more pressure in your hamstring. You're not pulling your leg back enough."

You could feel your face getting warm. You were unsure if it was the pressure of the stretching or if it was the touch his warm hand on your ankle, but in all that confusion, you still managed to mock him under your breath. "You're not pulling your leg back enough..."

He chuckles, hearing a good amount of that impression. "I got you, don't worry." He releases your ankle, the cool air from the ceiling vent hitting it as it dropped to the floor. "Switch." His hand beckons for your other leg, and he does the same for that one. He grabs onto your ankle, and pulls your leg back slowly until you tap the floor. "See how far you can actually go? You're more flexible than you think."

Toji was really enjoying watching the way your leg quivered with its unaccustomed use of certain muscles. He looks down at your uncomfortable facial features. Your nose is slightly scrunched, your lips are tucked, and your brows are pinched. It's cute, but he can't help but picture it in a more vulgar scenario.

He pats your leg before releasing it. "Good girl. Have some water."

Your eyes widened at the praise, something you had to let go of quickly because Toji was ready to move on to the next thing. That didn't stop your stomach from flipping around as you took a quick water break.

"Arms? Legs? Back? What do you wanna work on tonight?" His voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, um... your choice. I'm following your lead, aren't I?" You smile.

"Alright, then. You're gonna spot me." He picks up his water flask and walks ahead, assuming you'll follow. Your heart starts racing. He's joking, right? Right?

He puts his flask down, sitting on the bench in front of the huge shared mirror. "How much can you lift?" He asks, looking at your timid frame through the mirror.

"Um... well... I-"

"You don't, do you?" You see the hint of a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yeah, not really. I don't," you say, feeling a little embarrassed. You didn't know this was a good thing for him know. There was no challenge meaning he was going to take this opportunity to show off for you. Toji knew that any amount of weight he lifted that was over one hundred pounds would impress the hell out of you. This was Toji's equivalent of the bird mating dance. His muscles were the colorful feathers and him lifting a lot of weight was the attention grabbing dance.

"Wanna help me put the weights on?" He points at the rack with varying weight plates.

"Okay," you agree.

"How about ninety to start?" That is absolutely nothing to him, but he really wanted to you to believe that you would be spotting him.

"Sure," you confirm, following him to the weight rack after. You grabbed a forty-five pound plate with both hands while he grabbed another, holding it with just one hand. He laughed at the slight change in posture for your walk, from carrying the weight. You returned to the bench, putting the metal bar through the plate while Toji did the same on the other side.

He sat down on the bench, watching you through the mirror. "You ready?" He asks. "If I start struggling, you're gonna pull the bar up, yeah?" His serious expression really sells his little joke on you.

"Mhm," you mumble, with little certainty. Your hands shake as you near the head of the bench.

Toji lays down, looking straight up at your nervous expression with a sly grin. The sound of the bar coming off the ramps makes you jolt, something that Toji breathily chuckles at as he brings the bar down low then pushes back up. You lose focus by the fifth time he does this, narrowing your eyes on the veins bulging out on his biceps. He can see you staring, and it only fuels his motivation to do more reps. But then your eyes start wandering. You see the way his chest inflates and deflates as he continues to push, you notice the shape of his abs bulging through his shirt, and then you find yourself looking all the way down south. You start wondering if he could bench press you. Maybe at his place, with a lot less clothes on.

He whistles, green eyes absorbing the flustered reaction on your face. "Eyes up here. Could've been crushed over here and you wouldn't have even noticed, doll."

"Sorry... fuck, i'm so sorry."

He laughs at how awkward you got after getting caught. He finished up a couple more reps before securing the bar back in it's spot. He sits up, only able to see your back through the mirror.

"What's up with you?" He asks, standing up from the bench.

"I don't think i'm the best person to spot you. Maybe someone else could do it. I could ask this guy if you want. Hey-"

"No, no. Nope. It's all good." He pulls you away from the guy doing squats next to you guys. "I was just messing with you." His hand rests on your shoulder. "You really think i'm not capable of lifting ninety pounds without struggling?" You still can't look him in the eyes after what happened earlier without going red, but that's fine 'cause he can look at you. "Sweetheart, I can lift you up so easily. I'm talking featherlight easy."

"I knew you could lift ninety pounds alone. You just like to make me feel dumb." You glance at him and hold back a laugh.

"Guess you're too smart. Is that why you let yourself get distracted so easily?"

You groan, the embarrassment from before flooding you again.

"It's water under the bridge, but listen, I'm gonna stay and do a couple more sets. You can chill here and watch me, or you can go to some of the other equipment, or... you can be the sweetest girl and do squats right next to me. You know, to keep me motivated."

"Toji, you dog." You smack his arm, giggling to yourself. Toji finds it really amusing when he makes you blush. You turn away or cover your face every time, like it'll hide the reason for why you're acting that way. "I'll pass on being a sweet girl, just this once."

Toji smirks, crisp green eyes raking up and down your body.

"I'm going on a run. I've got too much energy to just stand here or, you know, squat for you."

"That's too bad. Was really hoping you'd be my prize for finishing my sets." He watches your tongue dart out to lick your lips, completely mesmerized by how the gesture transitions to you nibbling on your lip. "Go on, but you're showing me your pull up game when I come get you."

You playfully roll your eyes. "Yeah, yeah. See you in a bit."

—

You ran a mile and a half to rid yourself of those lust filled thoughts that formed in your mind when Toji was around. You thought the lack of breath would be enough to cloud your mind and discard all thoughts in general, but you still found yourself looking for him on the other side of the gym.

"Looking for someone?" Toji asks, scaring the life out of your already racing heart. You gasp, turning the treadmill off. It slows you down at a good pace, eventually stilling you.

"Almost two miles. That's really good." He grabs onto the sidebar, watching you lean forward onto the control panel in an attempt to regain your breath. "Heh, you look like a tomato," he jokes, poking your cheek. "Come on, clean yourself up and drink some water. We've got one more stop and then we can head out."

He offers you his towel, seeing that you didn't bring one with you. Your legs feel like they're buzzing, and you feel incredibly sluggish, but still you pick your head up and have some water.

Toji watches your throat movement as you swallow the water. He notices how fast it's going, and he wants to tell you to slow down, but instead becomes distracted when some of it seeps down your chin and lands on your shirt. You really are a pretty picture in that moment. Your neck is glowing with a layer of sweat, your baby hairs on the back of your neck curl and stick to your skin, and your cheeks are flushed with color.

"I'm tired," you sigh. You use the towel to dab at your forehead lightly, handing it back to Toji afterwards. "Ready," you huff. You cleaned up the treadmill and waited for Toji to lead again. He seemed to be buffering though. "Hey, aren't you the leader here? Come on. I wanna go home."

"Yeah, my bad. Let's see those pull ups."

—

Reaching the bar has always been your biggest issue. It's like the starting height for some of the equipment is six feet. You stand beneath the bar, your arms stretched upwards, and you jump, barely grazing the metal.

"Too short?" Toji asks, ready to assist you.

"No. I'm gonna get it." Your arms go up again, your knees bend and you put all your remaining strength into your jump, still missing the bar. "Fuck. Yeah, i'm too short."

"Need a hand?" He asks, stepping towards you.

"Let me borrow your thigh, please. I'll dust my footprints off aft-"

His hands are on your waist, lifting you off the ground with ease. You freeze in shock of his gesture. "Grab the bar when you're ready. No rush." He chuckles.

His fingers are poking into your sides, leaving a ticklish sensation behind that snaps you out of your thoughts and pushes you to grab the bar.

You huff, your hands tightening on the bar as you hang for a few seconds before pulling up, slowly.

"One," Toji starts counting, watching you dip down again. Your shoulder blades flex as you bring yourself up, then down again. "Mhm, there you go. Got another one in you?" Toji asks, watching you look up. You exhale, and with slightly shaky arms, you pull yourself up, letting yourself hang for a couple seconds after.

"My hands hurt. Two more and i'm tapping out."

"I'll give you some of the salve I use for my calluses. Now, go."

You grunt, knowing how much harder it is when you pause in between. Your arms are worn just from hanging, but then having to pull yourself up again? It's a task and a half.

"You got it. Up, up, up!" Toji drills. The fact that you were able to do two was impressive enough to him, but you were a trooper for pushing yourself to do more.

Toji paces around you, supposedly taking note of your form, but really he's peeking at the exposed skin that is revealed by your shirt raising up. Your stomach, your lower back, your waist, it's all eye candy. He gives your ass a good stare down once he's behind you again, but something that unexpectedly got him was you doing the final pull up cross-legged.

You groaned at the burn in your muscles, the force of your arms having to pull your weight up one more time. Even though your arms were shaking and your hands were in agony, you pulled up. Your chin made it slightly above the bar before you quickly dropped to the ground.

"That was good. I'm done. I'm out," you blurt, exhausted beyond belief.

Toji grabs your hands, examining your palms. "Gnarly," he mutters, running his thumb across the thickened, rough skin. "I've got just the thing for these in my car. Come on."

—

"Just a little bit of this will do the trick." He grabs a blue tub of hand salve from his glove compartment, twisting the lid off to reveal a faded pink colored substance. "Let me see," he says, after dipping his index finger into the tub. You put your hand in his, and watch as he distributes the medication across the bumps on the upper part of your palm. "Your hands are way too pretty to have any type of damage on them," he murmurs as he rubs your palm until the salve is properly smoothed in. He does it for your other hand as well, his excuse being that he can't just start something without finishing it. "Good to go," he says, before releasing your hand.

"Thanks," you respond. Thank god he turned the light of immediately, because it would have been mortifying if he saw the furious blush on your face.

"Don't mention it, doll." He inspects his own hands, and though his have calluses as well, he doesn't want to hold you up any longer, so he puts the lid back on the blue tub and stores it in his glove compartment. "Let's get you back home."

—

You felt tension throughout the whole drive back to your house. There wasn't as much conversation going on as before, but there was something. You felt something. You kept trading glances with him, occasionally meeting eyes. He could take turns, looking into your eyes and watching the road, but you wouldn't let it happen. As soon as he made eye contact with you, you turned to look out the window.

The tension was driving you insane, but at last, you made it home.

Toji turned the car off, his headlights dimming down until they lacked brilliance. You unbuckled your seatbelt, and made sure you had everything you brought with you.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Toji breaks the silence, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other on the compartment between your seats.

"I wouldn't do it more than three times a week," you joke, grinning at him.

"Hey, that's better than nothing. That's three days out of my week that I expect to see you... at the gym." Toji realizes the pause in his sentence was very much noticeable, so he chooses to elaborate. "You know, you can hit me up whenever. For the gym, a random food run, whatever. I have a pretty open schedule."

You laugh, nervously. "I don't. I work five days a week. I don't really have time unless I force it."

This doesn't discourage Toji. Rather, it raises the stakes for him.

"How about forcing some time out for me?" He sees the hesitant look on your face and decides to double up. "What do you have to lose? A boyfriend?"

Your jaw drops. You don't know if he's assuming you have a partner or if he's foreshadowing himself in your life.

"Is that your way if asking if i'm single...?"

"Maybe." He chuckles. "Only if it's not offensive to you."

"It's not. I'm not hiding it or anything like that, but yeah, i'm single."

Toji nods in acknowledgment, a content grin on his face. "Good to know. I won't be limiting my calls or text messages anymore, so pick up, will you?"

You smile. "I'll do my best." You take one more look at the floor to make sure nothing is left behind, before opening the door and stepping out.

"I'll stay until you make it inside your house. Need to make sure no one hops out of the bushes and drags you away."

"Stop, i'll have nightmares." You look at the bush next to your staircase and sigh. "Goodnight, Toji. Thanks for the ride," you say, slightly unsettled by the scary thought planted in your head.

"'Night, doll."

You shut the door and go up the stairs, carefully so that you don't stumble like you did the last two times. This time would be really embarrassing, considering Toji is still there waiting for you to make it inside, safely.

You unlock your door and shut it behind you, quickly, locking up for the night. You fast walk to the window, hoping Toji is still there, and thankfully he is. You wave goodbye to him as he's reversing his car, and he reciprocates with a hand raised above his steering wheel like before. You watch him drive off, his taillights being the only things visible in the dark street, until they're gone.

You turn the porch light off and secure your home, shutting the windows and closing the blinds. Once everything is closed, you carelessly throw yourself on the couch and allow yourself to melt—fully dissolve, at the thought of your time spent with Toji.

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zvdvdlvr · 8 months ago

Text

Why’d You Have to Wait?

🔥 - synopsis. You get kidnapped on a case. Aaron’s coping mechanism? Self isolation. But when you’re recovering, Aaron wonders if staying away from you is the right thing to do. Jack convinces him anyway. Are things too far gone for Aaron to fix?

🔥 - warnings. Non descriptive torture. Scars. Burns. Very vaguely described mental issues. Slow burn. Friends ro enemies to lovers? Sad hotch. Angst. No happy ending.

🔥 - author’s note. Doing a part two. Hopefully this doesnt flop :)

Aaron had dreams about it now. They were so vivid- lifelike and real. Every time he had them he woke up in a cold sweat, heaving in the bathroom as tears dripped slowly down his face.

He hadn’t gone to the hospital to see you. In fact, Aaron hadn’t seen you since the day you almost died. He rode in the ambulance, but tore himself away from the hospital as he watched the doctors wheel you into the operating room. Your blood had stained his hands, face, and arms for days. Every time the white spots danced in his vision after emptying the contents of his stomach, he swears he can still see the glossy red liquid drip off his fingers.

You were well like. Not only by the team but by Strauss. She had given the team the time off to help y/n recover: sit in her room after another surgery, cheer for her during physical therapy.

Jack loved having time to see his dad after school, but he knew something was wrong after consistently hearing him pad to the kitchen during the middle of the night.

Tonight was no different.

Jack sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. He blinked owlishly around the room and stood up. The little Hotchner slowly followed the light to the kitchen and saw his daddy lean over the sink. “Daddy?”

Aaron turned his head and tried to smile at Jack. Aaron knew he probably looked a mess. “Hey buddy. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Before Aaron could set down set down his water cup, Jack crawled up the seat and watched his dad over the counter. “What’s wrong, daddy?”

“I just can’t sleep,” Aaron shrugged, facing Jack with his arms crossed. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

Jack looked at Aaron as if he had grown two heads. “You get up in the night a lot, daddy. And your eyes are red. You cough a lot too.“

Hotch wanted to laugh. Of course Jack knew something was wrong- he always knew. “Yeah. You’re right, kiddo.”

“You yell when you sleep sometimes too. What happened to y/n, daddy? She doesn’t come see me anymore.”

Aaron shuddered as he inhaled. Smart boy. “She got really hurt, buddy. It’s bad. I guess I just… get scared thinking about her getting hurt,” Aaron admits, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest.

Jack nodded. “Can we go see her?”

“I- I don’t think we should. She’s still getting better.”

Jack furrowd his eyebrows and tilted his head. “But I miss her.”

“I do t- I bet she misses you, too, Jack, but I don’t know how she’s doing. She might still-“

Jack sighed. “But daddy, she’d be so happy to see me!”

Aaron sighed. As much as he selfishly wanted to see you, he couldn’t. He’d do something he wasn’t proud of- embarrass himself, ruin his reputation of being a mentally and emotionally tough boss, ruin your friendship… No. Aaron couldn’t go by himself, but Jack could go with him. Why hadn’t Aaron thought of it before?

“Okay,” Aaron relented. A smile tugged at his lips when Jack’s face lit up. He scrambled off his chair and collided into Aaron’s legs and squeezed.

“Can I sleep with you tonight, daddy? Aunt Jess always stays with me when I have a nightmare.”

Aaron bent down and picked Jack up and nodded. “Yeah, buddy. Let me brush my teeth again.”

Jack wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and squeezed, as big of a hug his little body could give.

— 🔥

The days were all a blur for you. Now that you were all fucked up, nothing felt right anymore. Second defree burns crawled up the calf of your left leg. Small cuts littered your entire body, scarring and twisting your skin. The worst part was the long, twisting scar that started on your cheek about two inches away from your ear and pulled down to your collarbone.

The unsub, Barney MacMillian, was a sadist. A stupid fucking sadist. He thought he was punishing you for hunting him when he kidnapped and tortured you.

You know the team tried- they really really did try- to cheer you up, to get you back. But the fact that you now considered yourself a monster and how you started to believe the things MacMillian had whispered in your ear as he tore you apart, layer by layer.

Derek genuinely thought your scar was badass, but learned not to bring it up. Penelope just kept rehashing everything- something you had eventually told her to atop doing. Prentiss was cautious, testing the waters. But she eventually got back into a rhythm with you as your best friend. JJ didn’t do anything wrong, she was just really nice- too nice? Spencer was… himself. And you couldn’t thank him enough for just staying him, recitinf facts about burns and scars, knives and blood loss. It was morbid, sure, but you were always close with him and the way his brain worked.

Rossi was the one that kept you together through it all, though. He had conversations with you, long past visiting hours. He talked with you about anything and everything and somehow knew exactly what you needed to hear or talk about. But he kept making excuses for Aaron.

Aaron. The romantic feelings you kept trying to flush away turned into hurt every time Rossi’s eyes flickered away from yours when you asked about him. But you knew now. He didn’t care. He never would. That’s why he didn’t show. It’s the only plausible explanation of why he wouldn’t show up, shoot you a text, something.

So you turned your hurt into anger and stopped asking, ignoring the way your heart would drop to your stomach and how the acid in your stomach churned eveey time you heard his name.

You already had your resignation documenta stored neatly in a magazine in the second table in the nightstand to your right. You were done with it all.

— 🔥

That’s why you felt tears prick in your eyes when you saw Jack Hotchner leap into the room. His little eyes scoured your face, eyes dragging down the healing skin on your face. You heard Aaron’s footfalls stop short at the door. Your jaw clenched and you stared at Jack, waiting for him to start crying and ask to leave.

But he didn’t. He just smiled and leapt into your arms, completely unaware of the physical pain in your leg and body. He just wrapped his arms and legs around you.

You sat still, eyes looking at Rossi, who smiled at you. You hadn’t yet looked at Aaron and didn’t even want to. Carefully you wrapped your arms around Jack’s back, ignoring how fast the tears left your eyes.

Jack pulled back and looked at you with a smile that faded the second he saw your tears. In all of your time (almost 10 years) at the BAU, Jack had only seen you cry once. And that was during a movie.

“I thought coming to see you what make you happy,” he sad, voice sad. “Why are you crying?”

You smiled at him, sniffling pitifully. “I’m not sad, little J. I am really happy to see you,” you said. You hoped Aaron would hear the sharp undertone in your voice. Judging by Rossi’s huff of a laugh, he did.

“Oh! Well, I brought you stuff. I know you like the Black Widow because she’s really cool, so I brought you a coloring book,” Jack explained as he brandished his backpack full of stuff. You listensed intently, only looking up when Rossi got your attention and nodded to the door to signal him leaving.

Jack kept talking and you were overjoyed to listen. He was a pleasent little man, making your time more enjoyable. He opened up the coloring book he bought and started coloring after giving you a Beanie Baby he had that you mentioned you liked. He also got you a necklace- that Aaron no doubt spent a pretty penny for- that had your birthstone set in it. Jack watched you carefully as you opened it, and he put it on with his chubby fingers. You didn’t tell him that you would have to take it off soon after he left so it didn’t kill you when you slept. Hospital policy or something.

Soon after you finished your own coloring page featuring the Black Widow and Tony Stark making a hero landing, Jack turned on the T.V. and fell asleep.

“Hey,” Aaron said finally.

You nodded. “Hi boss.”

Aaron bit his lip. You stared forward, hand threading through Jack’s hair. Aaron felt his heart clenching in his chest. He didn’t know how you were gonna react when he came by, but he didn’t expect this- this silent treatment. He didn’t really blame you though. He wanted more than anything to make it up to you, to get you smiling again, but he knew the distance was probably better. For him at least.

“Y/n-“ Aaron started.”

You cut him off with. “Jack’s asleep, sir. It would be best not to wake him.”

Sir. You only called him sir if you were mad. Aaron swallowed. He knew he fucked up. Would he ever be able to fix his mistake, bring the old you back? He pondered the questions as he leaned back in his chair and watched the television show Jack chose before he fell asleep.

— 🔥

“Y/n is getting sent home today,” David’s voice crackled through the phone. “We wanted to take her out to dinner, something nice. Are you coming?”

Aaron sat at the kitchen table, checking over Jack’s homework. Jack himself was sitting a couple feet away on the couch. “Probably not. I have Jack.”

Rossi scoffed on the other line. “She loves Jack and he loves her. Bring him with you.”

“I don’t know,” Aaron sighed. He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. “Dave, she hates me.”

Silence. Rossi exhaled and shook his head. “She doesn’t hate you, but you’re giving her a lot of reasons to. Clean yourself up and meet us all at the address Garcia’ll send you. 6:00. Be there, Aaron. If not for her…” he trailed off, considering his next words carefully. “Then for Jack.”

— 🔥

David convinced you all to wait until ordering.

But when 6:45 rolled around and Aaron didn’t show, you just clenched your jaw and ordered a neat whiskey.

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loserlvrss · 7 months ago

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꒰ 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 ꒱ 김동현

summary : you and your boyfriend were truly opposites, but the saying has always been that they attract, hasn’t it?

genre : fluff, leehan x afab!reader, college!au, slice of life tws : language, zombies (yeah..), pet names, mentions of not eating (could be linked to a eating disorder but also idrk) author notes : cringe couple alert (that should be me) word count : 1.4k

your hands were covered in clay, grey-brown coating your skin. you could feel the uncomfortable, but familiar feeling of it drying on your wrists, and you were glad you wore something you were okay with getting messy; because today you had done so many pieces, you were covered in muck.

you had just finished a vase, the bottom a thick sphere, tapering off as it furthered to the top. you spread the wire, after picking it up from beside you, and ran it along the stone. you picked it up carefully, grabbing the damp sponge to smooth out any finger prints.

pottery was your hobby, and you were glad you majored in art. you loved doing pieces on the wheel, and you loved sculpting unconventional things. it never felt like homework to do, and you often found yourself forgetting all about time and spending hours in the schools basement; dusty and dirty, haired tied back, back and shoulders sore, and sweats caked over.

that being said, you also often forgot to have meals as collateral to your happiness, spend time with your friends, and do things that people would deem normal. you hated the saying that you weren’t like other girls but truthfully you’d rather be in this dimly lit room than a club, like the people your age were.

but there was also one person who refused to let you starve to death in this poorly decorated room. and truthfully, he hated the flashing lights just as much, if not more than you did.

“y/n,” you looked up, a smile plastering to your features at the sight of your boyfriend who had been doing work on his computer waiting for you to finish for the last however long. “you’re done?” you nodded, moving the piece to the side, preparing to take it over by your others waiting to get glazed and fired. “it’s pretty.”

“i was thinking about painting little fishes on it and putting it inside our apartment after it gets graded, what do you think?”

“only if you eat first.” he stated, making you laugh in response. “going to die in this ugly place one day, y/n. i swear i’m going to find your body, and that wheel’s still going to be spinning.”

you walked over to the sink, opting to listen as you felt your stomach growl at the thought of eating something for, maybe, the second time today.

“my girlfriend would be a zombie, oh my god, an artsy zombie. wait, what does that even mean?”

you tried your best to scrape the clay from under your nails, however you both were used to finding it in weird places—laughing about it like it was an inside joke.

“actually, i think you might be hot like that. imagine all the rotting skin—you’d never have to do skincare ever again because it’d be falling off all the time—messy hair, but i think you’d hate this being your forever ghost outfit.”

you made a grossed-out face at his obvious jokes; however if he had said this to, or around, anyone else, it would’ve seemed genuine due to his monotone nature and straight face.

“you’re so strange, donghyun. if zombies were your type, i could’ve done my makeup differently.” you pinched his cheek with wet fingers. “but i love you anyways… even if you wouldn’t make a hot zombie.”

“what?” he exclaimed. “no way you think this!”

you were taken aback. “i didn’t know you were so serious about us being zombies… we could be a silly-little zombie couple if you want.” you giggled.

he scoffed. “how romantic, y/n. truly,”

“shut up.” you stuck your tongue out at him. “what’d you bring today?”

he took out a glass container; because he refused the plastic ones, saying something about the consumption of microplastics and fish long before you two had even entertained the idea of being in a relationship, to which you replied, save the turtles, and thrusted your fist in the air.

“leftovers from last night.” he stated, uncovering the pizza you two had shared over a couple episodes of game of thrones. you were late to the hype, but you liked the show nonetheless. he had fallen asleep on top of you after your hand had made its way into his shaggy hair, half an episode in, small snores echoing against the drama.

you two woke up on the couch in the morning.

“do you want me to heat yours up?” you questioned, motioning to the microwave that was probably older than either of you. “you know i’d rather have it cold as leftovers… but if you want me t—”

he took a bite, focusing back on his laptop. “don’t worry about it, love.”

you, too, took a bite. “what are you even working on?” you asked curiously, looking over his shoulder.

his face was inches from yours when he turned. “can you chew any louder in my ear?” you scoffed, pushing his head lightly to the side, and mocking an obnoxiously loud chew at him. it was probably the least sexy thing you could do. he laughed. “it’s my research final. twelve pages in. i’m writing about aquaculture and its impacts on the environment—did you know that they’re actually bigger than agriculture? not that either are greatly sustainable.”

you admired how different you two were, but you loved listening to him go on and on (and on) about the ocean and fish, even if you had no idea what anything truly meant. he really did suit being a marine biology major in your eyes. his enthusiasm was your enthusiasm.

you did love his little fishtank though. and despite him denying it, you knew he loved that you named them all.

“my final is much better than yours,” you laughed, watching his eyebrows furrow behind his glasses. “all i have to do is make a couple pots—which we’re gonna use for our herb garden after! our green onions and garlic are getting so big!” you cooed. “i was thinking about using their old pots for our basil and rosemary plants, do you think that they would work?”

he took his last bite, using both hands to type now. “i think that would be fine, love.”

“and we can use our new vase as our table centerpiece? your mom’s going to come over for dinner soon, i think she’d like it—maybe i’ll make her one.”

he knew that once you put your mind to it, there was no stopping you. “i’ll get you some pretty flowers for both of them.” he was just glad that you had eaten something before the idea popped into your head.

you pondered. “what’s her favorite color, baby? do you think i should make her a couple mugs or a vase? or a cutesy little plate collection? or a pot? fuck it, i’ll just do them all, she has a gar—”

“y/n,” he cut your ramble off. “you’ve already made her a cutesy plate collection for christmas, and a mug for mother’s day, and a couple pots last semester.”

you pouted. “but those plates are deco—”

“make her the vase, love. her favorite color is purple.” he smiled sweetly. “i’ll help you paint it after you’re done turning it. we can give it to her as a slightly-early birthday present when she comes over, yeah?”

“we’ll get her calla lilly’s, right?” you pleaded.

his hand rested against your cheek, taking a break from the keyboard. “yes, and you can tell me all about the meaning while we stand in line.”

you grabbed his wrist. “great… now c’mon!” he eyed you as you pulled him up with you. “you made me watch that fish documentary with you the other day, so i’m going to show you how to make this vase now.”

“baby, i have three pages left,” he tried to compromise, but you blocked it out. “i’ll just help you paint it.”

“no,” you whined, which he found more adorable than annoying. “she’d love it so much more if you helped me spin it, don’t you think?”

he knew that there was no use arguing with you—after all if this whole art-thing didn’t work out, law had always been your alternative.

“fine,” he gave in, sitting down on the stool as you happily skipped over to grab him an apron and collect an adamant amount of clay. “but if i find clay inside my keyboard after this, you’re in for it.”

“terrified. so scared. i’m shaking in my boots, donghyun.” you shuddered playfully. “i guess you’ll actually get what you want if that happens—a zombie girlfriend—luckily for you, though, this zombie girlfriend of yours has a toothpick and a lot of love for her living boyfriend.”

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— perm tag list .ᐟ send an ask to be added c:

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the-whispers-of-death · 10 months ago

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John Price finally getting Grumpy!Reader's engagement ring. He had measured your left ring finger while you were sleeping (it was for a good cause) and he went to several jewelry stores to find the perfect engagement ring. It's everything you could ever want in an engagement ring, you'll love it and hopefully you'll say yes when he proposes.

But first, he has to ask for permission to marry you from your kid. After all, he's isn't just marrying you, he's officially becoming your kid's step-father (hopefully also adopted father if they want him to adopt them). So, he has to make sure they'd be okay with you two marrying.

If your kid's little, he's not too worried about them saying no. Especially since they've been calling him "Dad" so genuinely and have been so happy when he stays over. They tell him they want him in the house all the time, so he's almost certain that they'd give him permission to marry you.

Still, he crouches down to their height level to look them in the eye. "Hey, kiddo. You love I love your parent a lot, don't you?" he asks, easing them into their conversation. He smiles when they nod. "Sometimes, when people love each other so much, they get married. Which means that they're legally recognized as a couple and they move in together. And so I love your parent so much that I want to marry them, be officially a part of this family that we've created. You, them, me. The three of us together."

He lets the words sink in, lets your kid process what he said. "What do you say to that? You like that idea?"

Your kid thinks about it for a while before asking, "Would you adopt me?"

"If you'd like me to, kiddo. I'd be honored to adopt you," John says, smiling. His smile grows even wider when your kid says he can marry you and he picks them up, swinging them around and making them laugh. "I love you so much, kiddo. I'll love you and your parent for the rest of my life, I promise."

Now, if your kid's a teenager, then John's going to be very nervous because your kid honestly got your grumpiness (because they're a teenager and also because kids can emulate their parents a little) and so while he knows they tolerate him, he doesn't know if that's enough for them to be able to be okay with him marrying you. Liking your parent's partner is one thing, being okay with them integrating their life into yours is another.

"Hey, mate," John says to them when picking them up from school (or practice if they practice a sport, either way you're not available to pick them up). He waits until they're settled in the passenger's seat and he's driving home. "So you know how I love your parent and we've grown even closer over this past year?"

Your kid eyes him warily out of the corner of their eye before nodding. And then it dawns on them. "You want to marry them?"

John nods, his palms sweaty as he grips the steering wheel. "Yeah, I want to marry them. But only if you're okay with it."

"Why?" they ask, surprised at that answer. Apparently, they had been thinking John would just marry you without caring if they were okay with it or not. "You care about whether I'm comfortable with your guys' relationship?"

"Of course I care. You're their kid and... I've grown to think of you as my own too," John admits sheepishly. He makes a turn into the subdivision. "So yeah, I care about whether you're okay with us marrying or not. It's not just them and I, you're also being affected by this and I want us all to be a family."

They think on it for a while before smiling shyly. "I'm okay with you joining our family. I like having you around." They then glance at him, smirking. "But uh, you're going all the way with integrating into our family, alright? I'm getting adopted by you, that's my one condition."

John laughs, relaxing now that he's gotten their permission to marry you. He pulls his car into your driveway and parks. "It would be my honor to adopt you and officially call you my kid."

"Thanks, Dad."

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

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phoenixblair666 · 5 months ago

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It Only Takes One Second: A Logan Howlett X Fem!Reader Story

This story takes place in the X-Men trilogy. It's a romance between Logan and Fem!Reader, where the reader goes through a traumatic experience that allows her mutant powers to emerge. She goes to Xavier's school in search of sanctuary but finds Logan instead. When He helps her learn how to use and control her powers, he creates a valuable new member of the X-Men, but what started as helping a new recruit find their footing, turns into a blossoming romance.

Authors Note: This story will be in multiple parts. As of now how many parts, is to be determined. The story starts off slow, but additional parts will be added. Enjoy! ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Word Count: 1,207

Reading Time Approximately: 5 Minutes

WARNINGS: Mentions of Traumatic experiences (Car crash), Mentions of Anxiety, Mentions of Hospitalization

(Part: 1) How It All Started

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .

Driving has always given you a sense of peace. That certain feeling of highway hypnosis was more than welcomed; the cool breeze in your hair, the gentle warmth from the sun shining through your windshield, and classic tunes fit for a twenty-three-year-old woman playing through your out-of-date stereo.

You never feared the long roads during these trips, nor did you fear where they would take you. Living in a van had its perks. One day you may want to lie beachside, lemonade in hand, the next you're driving through the Rocky Mountains, taking in the natural sights. Today that feeling changed.

Screeching tires echoed through the twined peaks on either side of you, the smell of burnt rubber filling your vehicle. You tried to take control of the wheel as best you could, but the invisible ice covering the pavement made it incredibly difficult. Your car swerved one way, then the next before the sound of metal against metal was heard, airbags deploying, scraping your face, leaving first-degree burns against your skin. Now you were airborne, freefalling off the side of a mountain. Time feels as if it slows as you watch the raging river below get closer and closer with each second.

Then it happens. Suddenly your body senses the air surrounding you. The way the gaseous molecules float freely, only parting ways when they touch your solid form. You can feel the vibrations from each of these molecules not on your skin but deep within your muscles, a sensation that is completely foreign to you.

The car is only a few yards away from crashing into the aggressive waters when your body begins to use the surrounding air as leverage, and you begin to float on your own accord. It's not gravity lifting you from your seat, but it's you, manipulating the natural resource. Everything happens too quickly for this newfound ability to be of use, and before you know it your car is making an impact with the water. The surface of the river is like concrete against the metal, crushing the hood to your knees. Your windshield shatters, allowing water to flood the interior of the vehicle, and then everything goes black.

��═════════════════════════════

The smell of rubbing alcohol and soap is the first thing your senses pick up, then the constant beeping in your ears. Your fingers feel the rough texture of fabric as you weakly grip a set of white sheets. All of your senses slowly come back, one by one, acclimating you to your surroundings. Finally, your eyes flutter open. Your vision is blurry, but you can see the bright fluorescent lights shining down on you. You blink hard, trying to make the rest of the room visible, succeeding when you begin to notice the objects around you. A countertop with a sink, an empty armchair, medical posters, and IVs wrapping around your arm with a small needle filling your body with a plethora of drugs.

Just like the rest of your senses, the unfamiliar buzzing in your muscles returns. Once again, you feel the sheer power of the surrounding air in your body. This is a sensation that is completely new to you, it is frightening. Your heart begins to quicken, and the machine next to you detects the rapid pulse, alerting nearby nurses. You begin to paw at the IVs that adorn your arm, ripping the needle from your skin and discarding it on the floor, allowing liquid to pool on the clean white tiles. Your body begins to hover as you panic, lifting a few feet above the bed. A nurse opens the curtain that led into your room, gasping at the sight before him.

As you float, the feeling of uncertainty washes over you. Everything that was happening to you in this moment was unnatural, almost alien. The fact that you survived the horrible crash the day before, and now you can fly without trying, was some sort of strange miracle.

Nothing in your life has been or will be the same since this day.

══════════════════════════════

The sign against the brick wall was a clear indicator that you had reached your destination. You had heard from one of the doctors a few weeks ago that there was a place for 'You people' that acted as a sanctuary. Until then you had heard few stories of mutants, let alone seen one for yourself. And now here you are, standing at the entrance of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. You inhale sharply, feeling a ball sit in your chest, all worries flooding your mind at once.

Hesitantly you take one heavy step forward, then the next. Gravel crunches under your combat boots as you make your way to the large mansion-turned-school. Two large oak doors decorate the front of the classic old building, and an elegant porch covers them, while vines grow upwards against the brick, some even covering the many windows that adorn the structure. A large water fountain sits in the middle of a rounded driveway, and different types of foliage surround the man-made body of water.

What was once gravel turns into a stone path, leading to the driveway. Your steps become more wary as you approach the stairs of the porch. The unknown sits behind the oak barriers, making your heartbeat thump against your ribcage. A few more steps and you are right in front of said barrier. Lifting your arm had proven to be more difficult than expected as thoughts raced through your skull. Despite this, the rough skin against your knuckles meets the solid object with three small knocks.

Your anxiety spikes as you wait for someone to answer. You almost don't notice that you're holding your breath, barely able to remind yourself to keep breathing. One of the doors swings open, making you jump at the abrupt motion. A tall man peers down at your shorter self, eyeing you intently. His hair is pitch black and came to two catlike peaks at the top, with facial hair that hugs his jaw but stopped above his lip and chin, leaving only a small amount of stubble. His eyes are a light hazel color, resembling two rounded drops of honey and his body is quite built. He wore a white, wife-pleaser that showed every muscle under his lightly tanned skin, along with a dark blue, denim pair of jeans.

Your breath hitches in your throat, as your eyes meet his. The stare lasts longer than you'd like, but when his hardened expression turns curious, you find it easier to find your voice. "Is this Xavier's School for the Gifted?" You ask sheepishly, searching his eyes for a silent response. The man looks you up and down, then to the gate that you had entered from. Once his eyes meet yours again, he smirks. "Do you know how to read?" He questions, lifting an eyebrow. You nod quickly, feeling quite small at the hands of his satirical response. His features change for a third time, and he smiles. "Then I think you're at the right place."

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:

You try to match his smile, but it comes off as nervous. He chuckles at your shy exterior before opening the door further and allowing you entrance.

Part 2: Nightmares

#logan x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #x men #xaviers school for gifted youngsters #hugh jackman

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jeridandridge · 2 months ago

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Happy Haunts

Melissa Schemmenti is a tough cookie. Until she watches a horror movie.

When you got to work on this particular stormy Halloween you didn’t expect to run around the entire school looking for a child dressed as Thanos, but here you are dressed in your best Captain Carter costume going through the halls with Melissa.

“Okay this stagnant chocolate smell is making me wanna barf.” You groan bringing your arm up to cover your nose.

“This kid thrives on chaos that’s for damn sure.” The redhead nods eyeing you slyly. Your toned arms were on full display in your tight shirt, the material complimenting your body well. “So, what are your plans for tonight, Cap?”

Chuckling you glance at the scarlet witch with a smile. “Well, I’m third wheeling with Jacob and Zach. We’re going to a haunt and I’m almost certain Jacob will run out. What are your Halloween plans with Mr. Year round candy guy?”

Having a crush on a coworker was hard, but it made it even more difficult knowing she was dating someone, especially a guy that was so irritatingly nice like Gary.

Melissa chuckles, immediately sobering at your question. “Gary? He’s a nice guy, but it didn’t work out.” She shrugs.

“Oh.” Is all you can say. That was new information and you felt bad for thinking it, but you were glad it hadn’t worked out between the two. Maybe you could grow some guts and finally ask the redhead out.

After following trails of candy wrappers and chocolate baby Thanos is found by Chad, and his reign of terror over Abbott is finished. Now in the break room after dismissal you sit with your plastic shield on the table with a cup of coffee in hand watching the rain splatter the window.

“Hey Captain,” Melissa gets your attention, purse slung over her shoulder, “How’s about you let the scaredy cats go to the haunted house and you come get scared with me?”

“Are you calling yourself scary, Mel? ‘Cause I don’t buy it.” You tease grabbing your own bags ready to leave. The idea of spending more time outside of work with Melissa had your heart fluttering in your ribcage. The little crush you had since you started teaching at Abbott went from a spark to a roaring fire fast, and now, thanks to class prep and staff meetings. it may be time to act.

“We can hand out candy and watch something scary.” Crimson lips turn into a smile that you’ve only ever seen on the Cheshire Cat.

“What kind of wine should I bring?”

“Red, six o’clock. Don’t be late.” She shoots you a smile over her shoulder.

She might as well be a real witch with the hold she has on you already. In the couple hours you had between work and Melissa’s, you went home to freshen up, opting to stay in your costume for now and being a change of clothes for later just in case the night went late.

At six o’clock on the dot you knock on the paper ghost covered door with a bottle of red wine in gloved hand, chuckling at the sound of scared squeals from kids down the street. “Let me in there’s monsters out here!” You joke.

When the door opens Melissa’s there in all her scarlet witch glory sans her boots. Taking in the sight you can’t help but smile. “Oh my god, Mel.” You laugh adoringly. “Without the boots you’re just adorable. You don’t have the threatening witch look.”

The redhead rolls her eyes adoringly opening the door wider. “Quiet, muscles. I’m giving my feet a break before the kids start coming.”

Following her in you close the door kicking your boots off already enjoying the warmth and smell of the house.

“What’s that smell? My mouth is watering.”

Cape flowing behind her the redhead goes to the oven letting out a wave of warm air as she pulls out a pan of pizza.

“Margherita mozzarel.” She smiles sliding the colorful pizza onto the wooden tray.

You shake your head with a smile moving to wash your hands at the sink. “How did you manage that in just two hours?”

“Magic, hon.” She winks rotating the tray as she cuts into the dough, your breath catching in your throat.

“Where are your glasses?” You hum reaching for the wine bottle trying to distract yourself.

“Right here,” her voice is soft, her hand even softer as she holds onto your arm to reach past you to the cupboard. Bringing two glasses out between her fingers Melissa smiles setting them on the counter beside you. It’s like she was doing it on purpose.

Dinner eaten and two glasses of wine in, you and Melissa are chuckling away on the front porch handing candy out to the kids. When you see her shiver slightly from the cool air, you wrap your arm around her shoulders gently running your thumb over her skin. “These rugrats are slowing down, feel like going back in?” You ask knowing she has a movie planned.

“Yeah,” Melissa smiles warmly at you, standing up with an empty candy bowl. “Let’s see how long you can last.”

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes wide as you duck your head, all of a sudden very worried about tripping as you follow her into the house.

“You know, these movies can get scary.” She teases you.

“Yeah,” you chuckle nervously, “yeah, movies.”

As you change out of your costume in Melissa’s bathroom, you lean against the door taking a breath. She was teasing you, that’s all it was. You two were having a fun night as friends. Clad in your sweatpants and a Flyers t-shirt you meet Melissa back in the dim living room chuckling when you see what’s ready to go on tv.

“This all you got Schemmenti?” You tease sitting next to her, Laurie strode paused on the tv screen.

“Hey, Michael is horrifying okay.” She argues sprinkling the flavor seasoning over her popcorn.

“There’s no way you’re afraid of these movies, Mel.”

“I’m not,” she scoffs playing it off, patting the cushion next to her, “I’m thinking about you. Now sit your cute ass down.”

Rolling your eyes you sit shoulder to shoulder as the eerie music starts, smiling when you catch Melissa looking at you.

“Watch the movie, scaredy cat.” You whisper reaching over for a piece of popcorn.

As the movie continues you both move slowly, fingers reaching into the popcorn bowl cautiously as the stormy night on the tv screen unsettles you. When a thud comes through the speakers Melissa flinches almost dropping the bowl.

“Dolce Gesú!” She lets out in Italian looping her arm with yours. Pink nails dig into the skin of your forearm making you hum in protest. Slowly pulling away you reach back wrapping your arm around her shoulders instead holding her close. Smelling the wine mixed with her make up from the day you can’t help but smile.

The Halloween classic continues, and at some point you end up laying on the couch, Melissa practically on top of you with her face hidden in your neck.

“You can’t have sex while a killers on the loose!” Her muffled voice comes out, soft breath against your skin making you laugh.

“They’re horny teenagers, Mel they didn’t get the memo.”

Throughout the rest of the movie Melissa plays peek a boo with the screen, using you as a human shield. Eventually your hand finds her back. Fingers moving lazily against the warm fabric you sigh contently enjoying this feeling, grateful that Melissa is comfortable enough to be this vulnerable with you. Before you know it, the eerie piano plays again as Melissa rests her chin on your shoulder meeting your eyes.

“I have a confession to make, hon.”

“What’s that?” You ask quietly, a dazed smile that you couldn’t help on your lips.

“I’m not afraid of scary movies.”

Taken aback for a moment you look into jade eyes, pupils dilated and looking at you with nothing but pure admiration.

“You- so this-“ you stammer, a soft chuckle rumbling in Melissa’s chest you can feel against your body.

Resting her hand on your hip the redhead tips her head up kissing your cheek.

“You’ll figure it out, hon.”

Mind going a mile a minute you lay there stunned until you feel her lips on your cheek. “Wait, Was this a date?” You ask quirking a brow feeling totally stupid.

Melissa smiles moving to hover over you.

“I thought it was. Do you want it to be?”

Instead of saying anything, you sit up, hands on the older woman’s hips as you lean in placing a soft kiss to her lips. It doesn’t turn into anything else then, you both exploring new ground cautiously, hands moving slowly until your arms are around her waist.

“You could’ve asked me out.” You chuckle keeping your arms around her. “You didn’t have to act scared over a movie.”

The redhead playfully rolls her eyes gently cupping your cheek.

“Not that I’m complaining.” You lean in nuzzling your nose against hers.

There’s a comfortable moment of silence at the simple action, Melissa’s fingers playing with your hair.

“Alright, hon. How’s about we go on a real date this weekend?” She suggests.

Smiling softly you nod keeping your hands on her hips.

“It’s a date.”

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #Melissa Schemmenti #Melissa Schemmenti x reader #Jacob hill #Melissa Schemmenti x you

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gh0stsp1d3r · 7 months ago

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ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

the prologue- piece of shit

Series masterlist

Warnings- mental/physical abuse, neglect, mentions of blood, read at ur own risk

“J.” You sighed in relief when he came out, wrapping your arms around him quickly and tightly.

“Hey, y/n.” He mumbled, returning the gesture.

You all walked outside, your heart sinking with each step.

“I wonder what restitutions gonna be on a 2019 Malibu.”

“I’ll pay it off. All of it. I swear, dad.” JJ said.

“Shit. 30k? When you gonna clear that, big guy? When all you do is smoke weed and hang out on the south side?”

JJ looked at the ground, you worried for him as you both stopped in front of the car.

“Get in the car.” Luke spoke, getting into the drivers. “Let’s go.”

You looked at JJ, giving him a small smile and patting his shoulder before going into the backseat.

JJ sat, Luke staring ahead at the street in front of him.

“Dad, I swear-“

JJ was cut off when your dad lunged at him, punching him. You let out a scream, trying to stop your dad and pull him off, but he just pushed you back into the seat.

Luke got on top of him, JJ struggled against him.

“Thirty thousand dollars! Do you know what you did to me? Damn-“ he yelled, JJ groaning in pain.

You shouted in the back seat, sobbing out your brothers name while your dad and him argued, your dad hitting him multiple times, his blood splattering onto the windows.

You desperately tried to grab your father’s hands, try to pull them away, but he just slapped your hands away, all his focus still on JJ, who he felt had disrespected him.

You shouted and cried, JJ leaning his head against the bloody window as your father finally stopped, leaning back in his seat.

—-

The drive back was Luke shouting at JJ, while you tried to intervene from time to time.

“Dad, that wasn’t his fault, It wa-“

“You, shut up! I told you already, young lady, stop tryna defend him!” He slammed his hand onto the steering wheel, you swallowing the lump in your throat.

JJ had glanced back from the side, shaking his head at you, his way of telling you to stop. When you got back home, JJ stormed into his room, pacing.

You began to follow JJ before your dad stopped you.

“Jesus, stop followin’ him. Go get me a fuckin’ beer. Or two.” He said to you, nodding over to the kitchen. You sighed, going into the kitchen and grabbing two bottles, handing them to him. He popped them open and began to shout again, making you flinch.

“By sittin’ around doing nothing! I’m gonna tell you right now, you are a worthless piece of shit!” Luke shouted.

You felt terrible, scratching at your skin as you looked down at the floor, you felt like a failure of an older sister. Always at your dad’s beck and call- it was why he had a little bit of a soft spot for you. He didn’t hit you as much as he did JJ.

No, he more so liked to throw misogynistic comments at you. Or call you names, or toss insults and scream and yell. But he rarely hit you- only when you did something truly to piss him off.

Like that one time when you showed up to school and had told some counselor about what he did. You were 13 at that time and he never forgot about it.

But JJ always got the worst end of it, he was the one getting hit more than anything, you didn’t know whether it was because of your mom or whether it was because of his rebellious nature.

“Shut up!” He shouted from inside his room, pacing it with his hands tugging at the roots of his hair.

“Your mama knew.”

“Shut up!” He was enraged at the mention of his mom, God he hated it. Your heart sunk at it.

JJ threw things around the room, growling and screaming in anger, they continued to go back and fourth for a while.

“Get your ass in here!” Luke shouted, you watched the two argue again for a while, things escalating until you broke it up.

“Dad, dad, chill out, okay? It’s done.” You spoke, putting your hands on your dad’s chest. He heaved, JJ stepped back away from him.

“Why do you always fuckin’ protect him?” He asked you now, looking down at you.

You didn’t answer, just looked back down to the ground.

“Huh? I asked you a question! Why, y/n?!” He scoffed. You shook your head and began to cry again.

Luke backed away, shaking his head as he sat back down onto the couch.

“God, I raised a bunch of fucking losers.” He mumbled with a laugh, taking another sip of his beer.

Finally, Luke had fallen asleep and you and JJ were left alone out in the living room.

“Jj..” you mumbled, sitting in front of him now with a bandage and some alcohol.

He breathed heavily, not glancing up at you.

“Can you let me clean it at least?” You whispered to him, tears falling down your face again. He looked at you now, and back at his dad.

“Please?” You pleaded, he didn’t say anything as you dabbed his face with a cloth full of alcohol.

“Sorry.” You told him when he winced in pain. He didn’t respond. You grabbed a pink bandaid- the only ones left you had, putting it onto his face and sighing, standing up again.

He wordlessly walked to his room, packing a bag full of clothes and other things. You furrowed your eyebrows, eyes following his every move.

“J?” You questioned when he stood at the door, bag slung over his shoulder. You stood up, going to him now.

“I gotta go, y/n. I can’t be here.” He told you, your hands going to his face, rubbing off the dirt he had.

“What? Jj, I- I mean I know tha-“

“You should leave too.” He told you, you shaking your head.

“I- JJ, I get it, I do, but I- I mean-“

“I gotta go, y/n. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not goin’ to.”

“Are you gonna be back- or- or-“ you stuttered out.

He shook his head. “If you need anything, I’m at John B’s. You know that.” He held back tears of his own.

“Jj, what about- you’re just leaving me?”

“Then come with me-“

“I can’t! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” You whispered to him, shaking your head. “I can’t, JJ.”

“I’m sorry.” He said again, pushing your hand away from his face.

“J- JJ- are you serious right now?” You laughed like it was some sick joke, following him outside, he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“JJ!” You shouted as he started his bike and drove away, giving you one last glance.

“Fuck.” You cried out, sitting on the grass, putting your hands over your head. You were completely and utterly alone.

—-

JJ didn’t talk to you for months after that, you’d been busy taking care of your dad and make sure he didn’t end up in jail again.

And you ended up paying off the 30k, slowly and gradually with the money you had saved up for college or a car. You didn’t know what for, really. Just saved it up since you were 10.

Along with that, you’d taken on three jobs. Things seemed okay for a little, you had a boyfriend for a few months, Luke was out of jail, and you had managed to keep three steady jobs for a while.

That was until JJ showed up again, taking the keys to the phantom. Everything changed after that.

#jj maybank x sister reader #jj maybank x reader #maybanks sister #maybank!reader #jj maybank x y/n #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x reader

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mermaidgirl30 · 11 months ago

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✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Pt 3: October Surprises and Secrets Slurred ✨

dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

-Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

-Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

-Word Count: 13.2k

- Tags: Porn with Plot, dbf! Joel, fingering, oral, face riding, dirty talk, dom! Joel, (reader is 25, Joel is mid 40’s)

- Chapter Summary: Your relationship gets more heated with a lot more intimacy going on between you and Joel, but will you finally get caught?

- A/N: I love this series so much and can’t wait to bring you more filthy scenes between these two 🤭 Sorry not sorry this chapter is so long, it’s worth it 😉 Reblogs are appreciated and I always love seeing your comments ❤️

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

October rushes through Austin as the cool, autumn breeze whisks through your soft curls. The campus is buzzing with focused, anxious students who rush to get last minute papers and assignments in for midterms. You have been diligent and already turned in your law papers, so you’re now free of midterm anxiety, unlike the other students in your classes.

The historic, massive library is filled up with laptops splayed all over tables and empty Starbucks coffee cups that sit next to their cramped hands that struggle to keep writing in notebooks. Sunlight beams through the stained-glass windows as you pass through the library, making your way out into the cold to go find your car somewhere in the mix of all the campus traffic.

As you open the library doors, you get a shot of cold air that blows right through your purple cardigan, and you wrap it around yourself to try to keep the chill from seeping down into your bones. When you cross campus, your mind wonders to Joel and how much you want to see his handsome face right now. The thought of his massive hands cupping your chin and those pretty coffee colored eyes staring down at you make you shiver with anticipation.

Joel, Joel, Joel. He’s always on your mind, never letting a minute pass without him there. You both can’t leave each other alone, not able to go a day without speaking to one another. He always asks if you have plans after school or when your shift gets over at the coffee shop off Main Street. It’s almost like you’re a normal couple. Almost. There’s just that itch behind your ear that’s always buzzing when you’re with him. That loud, annoying ringing in your ears that reminds you that you’re sneaking around your parents, mostly your dad. You honestly have no idea how he would react to the news, so you’d hide it for as long as you could. Your mom might take it lighter, but your dad. He might actually lose it, and you do not want to see that happen.

When you get to your shining Nissan Rouge and hear the click of the unlocked door, you jump in and slam the door shut, throwing your belongings over in the passenger seat. As you put the silver key in the ignition and turn, it barely hums to life and then dies again. The glowing orange check engine light blinks in front of you, and you pound your hands on the sleek steering wheel.

“No, fuck! Please, work for me,” you beg as you turn the key and try again, praying for a miracle. The engine spurts out a pathetic, muffled sound and then magically starts up as the car hums to life once again. “Oh, thank God,” you sigh as you wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Joel. He’d know what to do. You pull out your phone and dial Joel’s number in a hurry, trying to keep your patience as you tap your nails on the black steering wheel. Joel picks up on the third ring.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he drawls into the phone, his voice sounding like thick honey and sinking its way down into the pit of your stomach where warmth spreads.

“Hi, handsome,” you respond, a small smile spreading quickly over your face as the sound of his deep voice automatically soothes you.

“How was school? You get all your essays turned in? I don’t even have to ask, you already did. Didn’t you?” he asks with the sound of a light, raspy laugh on the end of the line.

“Just got them in today, actually,” you smile.

“Look at you gettin’ them in early. Such a smart girl, aren’t ya?” he purrs, making you bite your lip in response to the audible praise.

“Mhm,” you hum, your voice suddenly turning shaky as you look at the glowing engine light that warns you you shouldn’t be driving the car right now. Joel notices your shift in tone and responds with an edge to his voice.

“Everything alright, darlin’?” he asks concerned. It gives you goosebumps the way he’s always so protective, so careful of you.

“Umm-I’m fine, it’s just my car. My check engine light came on just now, and a few minutes ago I couldn’t even get it to start,” you respond back carefully with furrowed brows.

“Oh, shit. That ain’t good. You need a ride home? I can come get you-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “No, no. You’re at work, and my car came back on.”

“Darlin’, I don’t care that I’m at work. I don’t want ya drivin’ if it ain’t safe,” he says with a serious tone. You can tell he’s getting worked up, the way his breath falters and his sighs come out deep and clipped.

“Joel, really. I’m not that far from campus. I can make it home. Promise,” you respond with a more lighthearted response, hoping that Joel will settle with that answer.

“I don’t know if-”

You cut him off again. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll make it home,” you push.

You hear a long sigh and you can visually see him running his thick fingers through his patchy salt and pepper scruff. The vision of it makes warmth spread against your thighs as you squeeze your legs shut tight. “Fine, but I’m lookin’ at your car tomorrow and fixin’ it. S’not safe for you to be drivin’ it with your check engine light on,” he says with a raspy huff.

“Oh, you’re gonna fix it for me?” you ask with a stupid grin planted on your face.

“Mhm, gonna try my damn hardest to,” he replies as he clears his throat.

“And what do I owe you for your services, Mr. Miller?” you ask in a flirtatious voice.

You hear his low chuckle in the receiver, and it makes you giggle in response. “You don’t owe me nothin’, sweetheart. Just wanna make sure you’re safe,” he says with a light laugh. The sound makes your heart pound against your chest. Sweetheart. Safe. The words nearly take you out. He’s such a gentleman.

“Alright,” you say with a giggle. “I guess I’ll let you get back to work,” you sigh, not wanting to hang up on the handsome man that has your heart beating erratically for those gorgeous honey brown eyes.

“You be careful goin’ home, darlin’. Text me as soon as you make it there. I mean it,” he says with a serious, clipped tone.

“I promise,” you say back in a non serious tone.

“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later, beautiful. Remember, as soon as you get home,” he reminds you with a knowing tone in his voice.

“You got it. I’ll talk to you later,” you slur into the phone.

“Alright. Bye, gorgeous.” With that he hangs up the phone as you hear the line click dead. You throw your phone in the passenger seat and turn up the radio as Breaking Benjamin blares through the loud speakers. You nod your head to the beat and start to drive off, praying the car gets you there in one piece.

The glowing check engine light stays on the entire drive home, but you make it back safely. You park the car in the hooded garage and turn off the engine, letting it sit idle in the cool room. Whenever you make it through the door, you run straight into your dad as he almost spills his hot coffee all over his pressed white shirt.

“Shit, sorry dad! Didn’t see you there,” you apologize with frantic hands that steady the coffee cup in his hand.

“Careful now, I have a Zoom meeting in five minutes!” he sighs with the hint of agitation in his voice.

“Sorry, dad,” you apologize again.

Before you head to your room, you turn and tell your dad about your messed up car. “Oh, dad, before I forget to tell you. Joel’s coming over tomorrow to take a look at my car. The check engine light came on, and he’s gonna try to fix it for me,” you say lightly.

“Why didn’t you just ask me first? I could’ve taken a look. You sure asked Joel pretty quick there,” he says with his eyebrow raised and the hint of suspicion in there.

You gulp and try not to let your widening eyes give you away. “Oh, uhhh. I just thought you’d be too busy to take a look at it, and you know how good he is with fixing cars,” you shrug innocently.

“And you thought he’d be less busy than me tomorrow?” he asks with the tic of his jaw and wondering eyes staring questionably at you.

Your heart is in your chest and you feel the faint drops of sweat forming on your forehead. “I mean, I just didn’t want to bother you is all. Figured once I told you then you’d just tell me to ask Joel anyways,” you lie with a straight face, keeping your composure together.

He looks at you a few seconds and then nods, face relaxing a little. “Yeah, you’re definitely right, hun. That’s exactly what I would’ve done. Alright, well I need to hop on this call, so I’ll see you later.”

He turns into the direction of his office and you round the corner into the entryway and relax against the wall, breathing out a long sigh of relief. That was close. Too close for comfort.

You head up the stairs and back into your bedroom filled with lilac walls and scents of vanilla and citrus hanging in the air. Apartments. You need to find an apartment and fast.

The air is stuffy and hot in the garage, even though the autumn breeze blows gently outside as it carries red and golden leaves across the driveway. You’re wearing a light blue hoodie and cut off black denim shorts while you sit atop the wooden workbench in your garage. You gently kick your dangling legs off the side of the workbench and stare at the most gorgeous man working on your car. Joel Miller.

You watch the way he picks apart every single wire and car part he can get his hands on. His tousled dark curls sit slicked back against the top of his head by sweat that cakes his forehead, his grey t-shirt bunches around his thick arms every time he flexes and reaches under the hood, and his hands stay covered in grease and dirt from tearing apart your car piece by piece.

You can’t help but gawk at how ridiculously hot he is right now, can’t help the way you bite your lower lip seductively and run your tongue across the bottom of your lip in hopes to get a taste of him. You start to wonder what it’d be like to be bent over the hood of your car while he takes you from the back, start to imagine how good it’d feel to have his thick cock between your slick center as he fucks you senseless into oblivion. Can’t help the burning need in between your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and choke down a moan as slick starts to pool in the center of your lacy underwear.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asks with concern hinting in his voice as he washes his hands in the garage sink, stepping closer to you as he wipes his hands off on a bunched up rag. “You look a little flushed there,” he says as he steps in front of you, just a few inches from meeting your knees.

“Umm, yeah. I’m fine. Just got a little hot, I guess,” you gasp out, nervously panting as your jaw drops open.

He slides up to you and stops right in front of your thighs, locking his knees up with yours as his t-shirt sticks against his broad chest and bulging biceps. You can’t help but stare at him and his pretty brown eyes with flecks of gold that sneak out and catch you unawarely. You want to run your fingers through his messy greying hair, want to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him until you taste every single part of him as you unravel yourself around him.

“Why don’t you close your jaw, sweetheart. Gonna start drooling if you keep it up,” he smirks as he cups your chin and helps you close. You swallow away all the heat and try to calm yourself as he stands before you, but you can’t. He’s too much, too fucking much.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” you say flirtatiously as you bat your long eyelashes at him, feeling your blush paint the edges of your cheeks crimson.

“You gonna tell me what you were thinkin’ about?” he asks with the tic of his jaw, leaning his weight against the bench as his hand gently brushes your hip.

“I was just thinking how hot you looked leaning over the hood of my car. And your messy curls, how I want to run my fingers through them right about now,” you smile as he leans against you, taking his other hand and placing it against the top of your thigh as he gently runs his rough hand down to your knee.

“Oh, yeah? S’that right?” he laughs as he takes his other hand and pushes your thighs apart, stepping in between them as he runs calloused fingers up and down your smooth skin, turning your breaths ragged from the heat of his massive hands on you.

“Mhm,” you choke out, already worked up from his light flirting and the weight of his thick fingers on you.

“What else were ya thinkin’ about, hmmm?” he hums out, his eyes growing darker by the second.

“I was thinking…” you start as you run your fingers through his damp curls, making him groan as your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. “How good it’d feel if you fucked me on the hood of my car,” you purr, whispering into his ear seductively. You feel the bulge in his jeans already starting to form, feel how turned on he’s getting at the thought of you spread wide open for him on the top of your car.

“Christ, baby. Such a dirty girl, aren’t ya? Wantin’ me to fuck you senseless while I make you cum all over my cock. That’s what you want, ain’t it? To make you scream my name while I make you cum again and again and again…”

His voice lowers with a growl as he wraps his hands around your hips and drags you forward, ending right on the edge of the workbench as your legs clench around his back, his hands moving over the denim of your shorts as he snakes a hand up under the material, finding your soaked lace absolutely ruined for him.

You choke out a moan as he dips his fingers under your lace, slowly spreading your folds as his thumb finds your clit and circles you meticulously, stifling another moan out of you as you dig your fingers into his back and wrap your legs tighter around him.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Always ready for me. Always so needy, ain’t that right?” he smirks as he continues circling you, making your heels dig into his back as you slide a hand through his messy curls and drop your lips to the shell of his ear. Ragged moans leave your lips as he pushes two fingers inside your dripping hole while his thumb continues dancing over your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Feels so good, daddy,” you pant, biting down on his earlobe as you hold in a loud moan while he circles you faster, getting you all worked up over him. You hear the sloshing noises of your wetness and his fingers pumping in and out of you, and it’s so fucking hot that more slick slides down your center as you start to come apart around him. You’re so close, almost there already.

“That’s right, baby. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he coos, curling up his fingers inside you as he hits the spongy part of your walls that elicit another moan deep into his ear as your toes curl in your Converse.

“Joellll,” you whine into his ear, dragging your fingers against the curls that sit matted to the back of his neck.

“What is it, baby? Can’t handle daddy’s fingers, huh?” he teases as his lips ghost across yours effortlessly. “Tell daddy what you want,” he smirks, speeding up the shift of his thumb against your aching clit.

“Want you…. oh, God,” you moan as he curls his fingers inside you nice and slow, moving them up further as you latch around him tighter.

“Go on, finish your sentence,” he smirks with clenched teeth as he works you over nice and thoroughly.

“Want you to fuck me,” you whine against the shell of his ear.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart. Don’t want your father findin’ you with my cock buried deep in that wet pussy now, do ya?”

You whine out as your breathing becomes hard to control, tattered moans filling his ear like a choir of angels. “No, don’t want that,” you gasp out, your fingers tangled in knots against the back of his soft t-shirt. “I want you though. Want you so fucking bad,” you groan as he continues building slick around his thick fingers.

“Wanna put this hard cock inside that pretty pussy of yours. Wanna fuck you so hard over this bench right now that you won’t be able to stand for the rest of the night. Wanna cum inside that drippin’ pussy while you moan my name as I take you from the back,” he growls as he fucks his fingers up inside you deeper, hitting the spongy area again and again as you feel your orgasm about to take flight.

“Want you to moan my name so loud when I make you cum that everyone in the neighborhood knows just who you belong to,” he growls with clenched teeth as he presses down harder on your clit, rubbing it in just the right area that you feel yourself start to spill. You feel the white hot heat start to take over as your eyes roll back and you clench up against his fingers that continuously curl up inside you.

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming,” you moan as you bite down on the scruff of his jaw, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you close your eyes and bite back your moan as you let him have it.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl. So good for me,” he praises as you take a few seconds to come out of your blissed out daze, his fingers gently releasing out of you as he brings them up to his mouth and sucks, staring at you with blown out pupils. Your eyes go wide as you watch him drink down your cum, humming to himself as he licks them clean.

“Taste s’good, darlin’. Can never get enough of you,” he purrs as he pulls your drenched underwear back over your cunt and straightens your shorts out again. You grab the back of his neck and pull him toward you, planting your lips over his as the taste of sweat, black coffee, and you enter your mouth. He wraps his hands around your hips and slithers his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste all of him as his senses envelop you, sweat and all.

Before you can get lost in him anymore, you hear the jostle of the doorknob and the squeaking hinges as the garage door starts to open. Joel jumps back out of your reach and grabs the bottle of synthetic oil off the back of the shelf, drawing his dark eyes away from you as you compose yourself with a quick breath and legs that clash together.

Your dad looks up at you with concerned eyes and purses his lips. “Honey, you feeling okay? Your face is all flushed and your eyes are so wide they look bloodshot.”

Your blood runs cold as you gulp down your nerves and flick your eyes over to Joel, watching as he stares at your idle car as he runs a hand nervously up the back of his neck. “I’m okay, dad. Just got a little too hot is all,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, trying to get rid of the flush of your crimson cheeks.

“Oh, sorry about that sweetie. Want me to get you a bottle of water?” he asks with a gentle nod your way.

“Yeah. Thanks, dad.”

“Alright, honey. Be back in a minute.” He turns to Joel and slaps him on the back in a way that best friends only do. “How’s the car looking? Figure out what’s wrong?” he asks as he looks around the open hood of the car.

Joel loosens the top of the oil and sets it down beside the front wheel. “Yeah, there seemed to be some loose wires that got tangled around each other. I fixed ‘em. The serpentine belt looks to be pretty worn out, so I can stop at the hardware store tomorrow and get a new one. Should be an easy fix. And the car needs an oil change, so I’ll get that done real quick. Then it should be good to drive smoothly,” he says as he plays with the used towel in his hands.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Joel. You sure do take care of my little girl,” he smiles in thanks.

Joel smiles back and chuckles. “Anything for your daughter, George. I always got her back.” He turns your direction and winks at you secretly, making your cheeks turn bright red at the secret meaning behind his words.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller. Maybe one of these days I can get you to go on a date with one of Claire’s friends. Trust me, some of her friends already drool over you. Should ask one of them out. Could use a woman around the house. Maybe get you laid one of these days,” he teases as he claps a strong hand over Joel’s back.

Joel’s fists clench and his lips twitch at the mention of dating other women. You won’t lie, you feel a heavy weight against your chest and the tinge of jealousy runs hot down your throat. Joel would do no such thing. Mine.

“Nah, man. Thanks for the offer though. I’m good,” he responds. A breath you had been holding blows out, the wave of jealousy washing away as soon as he says the words.

“You sure? Wouldn’t hurt to at least have a night in with one of them. How long has it been, huh?”

“Dad!” you say forcefully, making both of them look your direction as you dig your nails into the wood, jaw locked into place. “Water?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows.

“Right, sorry. Be back in a minute.” With that he races back inside and slams the door shut.

“So, my dad’s trying to hook you up with one of my mom’s friends?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, mostly joking around with him.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. Already have my best girl right here,” he nods your way, curling his lips into a crooked smile. You can’t help but smile back at him and melt at his words. My best girl.

“That’s right. I’m your girl,” you say possessively.

“Damn straight you are,” he smirks, making butterflies flit through your stomach.

Your dad comes back with a cold bottle of water and leaves the two of you alone again, closing the door to go answer a phone call. As you let the fresh water quench your thirst, you watch Joel meander his way under your car, taking his time to change your oil out. You watch his soft t-shirt lift up just a tad, exposing thick dark hair that trails underneath the waistband of his jeans.

It takes everything in you not to go over and straddle him as he works, slipping your hand underneath his jeans as you pull his hard cock out and go down on him, taking him in your mouth nice and slow as you make his ropes of cum slide down the back of your throat. You hold back the temptation, knowing you can’t do that here. Not when your dad’s lurking around the corner of the house.

You sigh and watch him work, making light conversation with him as he puts the cap back on and crawls out from underneath the car. Grease stains his grey t-shirt, and he has a smudge of grease across his nose.

“Joel, come here. You’re a mess,” you giggle as you grab a towel from the metal shelf and jump down off the workbench, going over to stand in front of him. You wipe off the grease from his nose and wipe off his hands next, making sure you get off as much as you can.

“Baby, I could’ve done that,” he smiles as he grabs the towel from you, wiping off what he can from his ruined shirt.

“It’s fine, I wanted to help,” you shrug.

He looks at the grease stain on his finger for a second then back up at you, mischief written all over those hazy brown eyes.

You back up against the wall and raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning, Miller?” you ask suspiciously, holding in a laugh as you see the playful smirk pulling at his lips.

“Me, planning? Never,” he scoffs, the smirk planting firmly against the corners of his mouth. In a flash he cages you against the wall with his thick arms and smears some grease on your jawline. Your eyes go wide as he does it.

“Joel!” you whine as you push against his chest playfully. “That’s not funny,” you say as a giddy laugh escapes your throat.

“It ain’t funny, huh? Then why are you laughing?” he asks as a deep chuckle ruptures from his chest.

“Get it off, now,” you demand playfully as you try to grab the used tan towel from him. He grabs it back from you.

“I got it, I got it,” he laughs as he uses the pristine end of the towel to clean off the grease from your jawline. When he promises he got it, he throws the towel up on the workbench as you reel him in for a kiss. His lips are soft, plush, and they taste like Joel.

“Oh, that reminds me. I got somethin’ for ya,” he says as he breaks the kiss, digging around the back pocket of his dark faded jeans.

“You got me something?” you ask with a surprised lilt to your voice.

“Mhm,” he hums as he grabs his leather wallet and opens it up, digging around to find what he’s looking for.

“What’s the occasion?” you ask curiously, watching him dig around excitedly as his thick fingers push around old receipts and folded up papers.

“Don’t have to be an occasion to get ya somethin’, darlin’,” he chuckles. “But this is kind of an early birthday present, since your birthday’s next month.” He finally finds what he’s looking for and pulls out two tickets that have a matte gloss covering both sides. You flip them over and your eyes go wide at what the tickets say. Two general admission tickets to see Ghost at the Moody Center on November fourteenth sit carefully in your hands. You gulp back tears as you stand frozen in awe as you stare at the glossy tickets.

“Joel…” you gasp out, your eyes probably as wide as an owl right now.

“Thought you’d like ‘em. I know how much you’ve wanted to see ‘em for a long time. Took me a while to find out when they were gonna come to town, so I jumped at the chance when I saw ‘em post new tour dates. And Breaking Benjamin is gonna be their opener. I know how much you like them too and…”

You jump into his arms and wrap your hands around his neck as you thank him over and over again for the best gift ever. You grab his shirt and pull him in for a long kiss as you run your hands through his tousled curls. When you break the kiss, you stand back to look at him in his pretty face as your arms stay wrapped around his neck.

“You’re gonna take me to go see Ghost?” you ask sweetly with big eyes that water faintly.

“I’m gonna take ya to see Ghost,” he nods with a crooked smile as he looks down at you with brown doe eyes that you want to sink right into as they swallow you whole.

You pull him in for another long hug as his strong arms wrap around your waist. “You’re the sweetest, Joel,” you say as you plant your lips on his cheek, staying in his embrace for as long as you can.

“Anything for my girl,” he smiles as he cups your chin, bringing his lips down on yours again. When he pulls back, he keeps his calloused thumb trailing against your jawline, making you dizzy with lovesick thoughts.

“Hey, what’re you doin’ for Halloween?” he asks as he keeps his coffee eyes focused on you, his thumb trailing light circles across your cheekbone.

“I didn’t really have any plans. Sometimes my friends will drag me out to the bars or we’ll find a Halloween party to go to. How come?” you ask, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Umm well, you wanna come over to my place? We could watch some scary movies, make some popcorn, order a pizza. I know how much you like those classic horror movies. Would be nice to have some company,” he smiles shyly as the corners of his mouth rise up into a crooked grin. He’s perfect, so perfect.

“Joel Miller asking me to watch scary movies? You don’t even really like them,” you laugh as you hang around his neck, his left hand digging deeper into the side of your hip.

“Yeah, well. You rub off on me a lot. And besides, anything to make my girl happy. I jus’ like spending time with you is all, darlin’,” he drawls, his eyes glistening with flecks of light and dark brown mixing together to make a pretty coffee color. His crooked smile makes a dimple press against his cheek, and the lines against his eyes crinkle into complete warmth that fills the hard lines in his face. You think he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life. Because he is.

“Joel… you leave me speechless. Truly. I’m so, so lucky to have you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” you gush to him as you rest your forehead against his.

“No, darlin’. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You stifle out a laugh and bring your lips down slowly over his, this kiss more slow and romantic than all the other ones. Who would’ve thought you and Joel Miller would’ve ever been a thing? But here you are. Completely and utterly wrapped up in each other, and you just can’t get enough.

You hear the jiggle of the door handle and see the door opening fast into the garage. You jump out of Joel’s grasp and take a few steps back, separating the distance between him even though it’s getting harder to act like the two of you aren’t completely crazy for each other. You’re out of breath, still dizzy from all the emotions of the last few minutes with Joel. And he looks the same, pupils dilated and a flushed face as he looks up at your father.

Your father stops and puts on his glasses to take a closer look. “Joel, you feeling okay? Your face is flushed too. You good?” he asks as he hands Joel a water.

“Yeah. Just got up too fast from under the car. Should be fine,” he nods as he flicks his eyes over to you, the look of affection returning to his brown doe eyes you can’t get enough of.

“Alright, well dinner’s ready if you wanna stay. She made chicken enchiladas tonight, so pretty sure you’ll wanna stay,” he laughs.

“Sure, wouldn’t miss those,” Joel nods as your dad smiles back at him.

“Well, come on. Come and get it while it’s hot.” Your dad turns toward the door and goes through, leaving it open for you and Joel to follow.

Joel takes your hand in his discreetly and leads you through, rubbing the pad of his calloused thumb against the back of your hand, making you feel all tingly and giddy inside. Before he drops your hand, he brushes your knuckles with his lips and places a slow kiss against the back of your hand. You blush on the spot and smile up at him as he returns one back, and then he drops your hand as he walks into the light of the dining room.

Fuck. You have it bad for Joel Miller and you’re falling fast. Very fast.

Halloween Night

You spend the entirety of the afternoon getting ready for your night in with Joel. You shower, douse yourself in Victoria’s Secret Bombshell perfume, and pick out the perfect Halloween costume to wear. You go with a short black mini dress that barely grazes your thighs, the long sleeves hanging off your shoulder that leave your neck and the tops of your shoulders exposed to the cool air.

You carefully fix your hair into loose spiral curls and secure a long pink bow in the back of your silky hair. You apply shimmery pink eyeshadow to the hoods of your eyelids, draw perfect cat eyes with liquid eyeliner, and purse your lips after applying the shiny pink lip gloss. After slipping on a pair of black heels, you look at yourself in the full length mirror and grab the pair of fuzzy black cat ears as you top off your costume. Joel’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this getup.

After nervously driving over to his house, you now stand on the front of his porch and wait for him to come open the door after you ring the doorbell. You pull on your sleeves, your legs shaking as the cold evening wind hits your bare legs. After a few seconds he opens the door and pulls it back.

“Hey, sweetheart. You…” His voice cuts off as his brown eyes go wide as he lets out a low whistle, slowly taking in your figure from head to toe.

You twirl around slowly for him, letting him see all of you and watch him fall apart. “Trick r treat,” you smirk. “Gonna give me something sweet to eat?” you purr, batting your dark lashes up at him sweetly.

You hear him curse quietly under his breath and watch him rake his hand slowly over his patchy beard. “Goddamn, darlin’. Such a pretty little kitty cat. And that dress, fuck,” he bites out as he gazes his dark eyes over your long legs. “Prettiest girl that ever stood in my doorway, that’s for sure. C’mere,” he calls as he grabs your waist and pulls you into his broad chest, pressing his lips against yours as you chase the taste of his black coffee scent you so desperately love.

When you pull away you click your tongue at him. “Thought you were supposed to have a costume on today?” you say with a raised brow, playfully pushing at his chest.

“This is my costume,” he replies with an amused expression on his face.

Your eyes trail down him slowly. He wears a Halloween black t-shirt, an open red flannel, and dark blue jeans that form against his muscular thighs. You shake your head and pull off your cat ears, placing them over his tousled dark curls as you position it to balance on his head perfectly.

You laugh as you take in the big, strong man with the fluffy cat ears on. “There. Now you have a costume on,” you giggle as he just shakes his head and pulls you inside while he shuts the door behind him.

“Funny, very funny,” he chuckles, a dimple forming against his cheek which makes you only melt more for him. “Wanna take ‘em back now?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, holding a laugh in as you watch him examine his face in the mirror, sighing as he takes in the fuzzy ears atop his head.

“I look ridiculous,” he groans, crossing his arms over his chest as his biceps pull at the red flannel, making you anxious to curl up against them on the couch.

“No, you’re adorable,” you respond, lingering your hand against his soft t-shirt as you curl your hand around it.

“Don’t think so, darlin’. That’s all you. You gorgeous girl,” he says with a low drawl, his caramel eyes honing in as he backs you up against the wooden staircase, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. Before he leans in, the front door twists open and he pulls away from you in a hurry, putting as much distance between the two of you before Sarah walks in.

Your eyes grow wide as you weren’t expecting her to be here tonight. Sarah gasps as her eyes flick from you to Joel, clearly confused on what’s going on. Her long curls fall over her shoulders as she stands in a Cowboys jersey and black yoga pants with war paint smeared across her cheeks.

She says your name with questions ringing in her tone. “What are you doing here? On Halloween? Shouldn’t you be at a party or something?” she asks as she looks over your outfit carefully, her eyes going over to Joel as she takes in the cat ears that sit perched atop his head.

“Uh dad, why are you wearing those?” she asks as a giggle sounds loudly across the lit up hall.

He throws the ears off and hands them back to you, running a hand through his messy curls as he works to stay composed. “Don’t worry about it,” he says defensively. “And she came over so I could work on her car,” he confirms.

“But you just fixed her car a few days ago?” she says with raised brows, her eyes flicking back and forth between you and him.

“Uhhh yeah. But the light came back on this morning, so I brought it over. Joel said he could take a look real quick. I was just about to head back out. Shouldn’t take too long,” you say with a calm, collected demeanor, giving nothing away.

She eyes you both suspiciously and finally nods. “Okay then. Whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “But anyways, look at you! That outfit is so hot, my dad would never let me wear anything like that,” she pouts, crossing her arms over the orange jersey as it scrunches up underneath her.

“Maybe when you’re thirty,” he teases. She just shakes her head and sticks her tongue out at him. He chuckles out a deep laugh in response.

“Whateverrrrr,” she drawls out. She turns back to you and beams her pearly white smile as her curls bounce up and down as she moves. “Bet you’ve got all the boys wrapped around your finger in that outfit,” she smirks out. Joel’s eyes grow a shade darker as he focuses on you, trying his best not to say a word in response.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe just one,” you smirk, your eyes flicking over to his brown irises as you face Sarah again, careful not to give anything away.

“Oooooo you have a boyfriend? Why haven’t I met him? Is he cute? Is he a good kisser?!” she yells excitedly as she hounds you for information.

“Sarah!” Joel warns, telling her to calm down as his eyes narrow over her.

“Sorry,” she whines, giving you a small smile as you return one to her.

“What are you doin’ back here? Thought you were goin’ to your friend’s to go trick r treatin’?” he asks with raised brows, hands on his hips as his jaw clenches up.

“I am. Just forgot to grab my purse,” she says as she reaches around you and grabs her purple over the shoulder purse and heads back to the door. “Alright, heading back out. Guess I’ll see you sometime soon?” she asks as she looks over at you behind her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will,” you nod her way, waving a quick goodbye to her.

“Sarah?” Joel calls before she heads out the door.

“Yeah?” she asks before closing the door.

“Not too late, alright?” Joel says with his brows furrowed together.

“Yeah, be back before midnight,” she promises.

“Sarah?” he calls out again, making her groan at the name.

“Huh?”

“Love you,” he says softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his face relaxes into happiness.

She smiles gently and nods. “Love you too, dad.” With that she closes the door and runs off to the burgundy Cadillac that awaits her out front.

You can’t help but smile at Joel, butterflies flitting through your stomach as you take in his soft side. He’s always so careful and gentle with Sarah, always telling her how much he loves her. He’s such a softie, and you can’t help but fall for him even more as you watch him.

“What?” he asks as he snakes his arms around your waist, backing you up against the stairwell again.

“You’re such a softie,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck while you run your fingers through the scruff on his neck.

“Only for Sarah and you,” he grins, dropping his lips down to yours as you drink him in again, feeling every surface of his plush lips against yours.

He breaks the kiss after a few seconds and pulls you into the living room. “C’mon. I’ll get the movie started then I’ll call in a pizza for us. Pepperoni?” he asks as he leads you over to the cream colored couch and sits you down against the soft cushions.

“Pepperoni,” you nod. He turns on the tv and pulls his phone out, heading into the kitchen as he calls Pizza Hut and places an order to be delivered to the house.

You take in your surroundings of the darkened room. Vanilla candles sit sprawled against the glass coffee table, the large display of the tv glows in the near distance as the menu comes up for the movie Scream. You hear Joel in the other room hang up the phone as he places it down on the counter.

“You want some popcorn, baby?” he asks from the other room, his voice carrying into the living room like a song you want to put on repeat.

“Mhm and a Dr. Pepper, please,” you call back.

“I gotcha, baby. Be right there.”

When the popcorn is done popping and the cans of soda are taken out of the fridge, he joins you on the couch and places one hand on your thigh as the other one presses play on the remote, making the movie hum to life as the beginning titles show across the lit up screen.

You take a sip of Dr. Pepper and pop some popcorn into your mouth as the buttery taste slides down your throat conveniently. You curl your legs onto the couch and fold yourself against Joel, letting your arms wrap around him as his arm flexes behind you. He pulls you tight to his side as his hand runs gently up and down your arm, causing your body to fully relax against him as you breathe in his cologne and woodsy scent. He smells like a piece of heaven, your piece of heaven.

He takes a drink of his Dr. Pepper and places it on the coffee table, leaning back into you as he adjusts himself into the back of the cushions and lays a soft kiss against the top of your head, making you melt beneath him.

When the scene of Ghostface asking Casey what her favorite scary movie is comes up, Joel mimics his voice and asks you the same thing in a more southern, non scary tone. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asks mysteriously as you giggle into his chest.

“You should know this one,” you answer back, eyes flicking up to his as he looks you over carefully before responding.

“Halloween,” he answers automatically.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner,” you yell out, pulling a laugh from deep within his chest as you hear it rumble against your ear.

“Knew it,” he says proudly. “And what’s mine?”

You lay your head in his lap and look up at him, deep brown eyes staring down at you as he awaits your answer. He’s so pretty that it physically hurts. “Joel, The Lord of the Rings does not count as a scary movie,” you laugh out as he smiles down at you.

“Sure it does. It has spiders, orcs, dark themes.”

You push his chest playfully. “It’s fantasy. This is a scary movie,” you remark as you point to the tv, watching Ghostface chase his victim across the yard.

“Yeah, well. Still,” he vocalizes with a sigh. “Would you watch all of ‘em with me?” he asks faintly, his chocolate eyes glazing down to yours.

You turn to him and nod. “Of course I would. I’d watch amything with you,” you reply with a smile.

The corners of his lips curl up into a soft smile and he leans down and kisses you without holding back at all. He tangles his fingers in your curls and you open your mouth up, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth as he finds your tongue, dancing around as you drink down the taste of him slowly, passionately.

One hand slides down to your thigh as he grazes calloused fingers up and down your inner thigh, making you breathe heavier as he bites at your lower lip, heating up the room as the two of you start to get lost in each other. His hand reaches up, up, gently sliding the edge of your dress up your thigh, working his way nice and slow to where he wants to be. To your aching center that yearns for his touch.

Before he can make it any further, the doorbell rings, forcing the two of you apart as you lift up off his lap. He sighs as he pushes off the couch, muttering something under his breath that sounds like a complaint of interrupting him when he was busy with you. You giggle at his ramblings and wait till he comes back.

You hear the exchange of pizza and money and can smell the fresh cheese and pepperoni that wafts through the air of the dark living room. After another minute, Joel comes in and sets the pizza on the coffee table, telling you to eat up. You grab a slice and take a bite, letting the warm goodness fill your stomach as you set your eyes on the movie again, trying to keep focus on that instead of the handsome menace of a man that sits next to you.

“So, what’s so attractive about a killer that wears a mask? I don’t get it. With all the viral videos of masked men goin’ around, I don’t get the fuss. I even catch Sarah’s friends talking ‘bout it sometimes.” Joel shakes his head and takes another bite out of his pepperoni slice.

You giggle in response. “I don’t know. Guess that’s kind of a part of the dark romance culture now and can be kinda thrilling? A masked man in the bedroom. I mean, I get why they like it. It’s just something new and intriguing, a little dangerous, exciting even…” You stop there, not wanting to give away that you too might have a mask kink.

“Oh, is that right?” Joel smirks deviously, one of his eyebrows rising higher as he looks directly at you. “You into that shit, too?” he asks curiously as he takes his last bite, lapping his tongue along his lower lip and wiping away the last evidence of red sauce from his mouth. You try your best not to bite your lip, wanting to lick every single scrap of sauce off him slowly.

“I mean, I get the hype. Guess it would be kind of hot,” you blush, looking down at your lap to hide the crimson of your cheeks.

“I knew it,” he says as he claps a big hand on his thigh in knowing. “So you’re saying if I ever bought one of those dumb masks, you’d want me to wear it in the bedroom?” he asks as his eyebrows go up curiously while his hand digs into the back of the couch forcefully.

“I think I’d just prefer to see your handsome face, Joel. Besides, I don’t see you doing that anyways,” you laugh and hit him playfully in the shoulder.

“You’re right, darlin’. Don’t think I’d do that either,” he chuckles.

“But,” you lean into his chest and press your glossy lips to the shell of his ear seductively. “Think I’d let you put me in some handcuffs though,” you purr out as you tug on his earlobe and pull back with a sly smirk on your face.

You see the way his pupils expand and the way his chest rises and falls deeper as the blood flows thicker in the veins of his neck. You see the way he adjusts himself on the couch and clears his raspy throat. You started something, and now he’ll have to finish it.

You smile to yourself triumphantly and turn to face the tv, scooting up to the edge as you reach for your Dr. Pepper and take a refreshing sip, setting it back down on the glass coffee table when you’re done.

You hear Joel’s voice come out raspy and deep behind you. “Is that right, sweetheart? You’d let me handcuff those pretty wrists to my headboard?”

You squirm on the edge of the couch and press your legs together, feeling the heat start in your center like a volcano that’s about to rupture. “Mhmm,” you hum out carefully, trying to suppress a moan from coming out of your throat.

“Hmmm.” He leans over and presses his lips against the shell of your ear, his hot breath breathing down your neck and making you feel things you can’t control. “Think I need to go buy a pair of handcuffs then, sweetheart. Show you all the ways I can make you cum while you’re tied to my bed. What do ya think of that, huh? Sounds… erotic as hell,” he whispers darkly in your ear, leaving you panting for more as you keep your eyes focused on the movie on the big screen, watching Ghostface run down the stairs after his next victim mercilessly. He presses a gentle kiss against your cheek and scoots back into the couch, leaving you breathless and wanting.

Just when you think he’s done teasing you, he starts playing with your pink ribbon and runs his hands through your long waves, making your heartbeat gallop like the hooves of a racing Clydesdale against his touch.

“Such a pretty pink ribbon in your hair, baby,” he teases, starting to tug on your hair harder now as he pulls lightly on the curls.

“Mhm, it is,” you reply with a breath held.

“You know I love when you do your hair like this, in these curls. So long and soft to the touch. Can easily do this.” He tugs your head back and pushes you down into the couch. Your hands grip the side of the couch while your ass is up in the air, exposing all for Joel to see.

You feel his hands raise your skirt up to your hips, exposing the meaty flesh of your ass as you feel the cool air brush against the backs of your bare thighs. You hear Joel hum out in approval as he fixes his massive hands over your ass, one hand trailing down as his fingers brush the soaked material of your lace which makes a groan escape your lips.

“White lace, huh? Looks s’good on you, sweetheart. Already so wet for me, ain’t ya? Look at you drip, so fuckin’ wet, baby. Goddamn,” he whistles as he takes his thumb and trails a long line down your center, gathering more slick against the material. You whine out and he chuckles lightly.

“S’right, baby. Gonna make you really whine in a minute,” he murmurs as he slides the wet lace down your legs, gently unclasping your black heels and dropping them to the floor as he unhooks the lace from around your ankles and disposes them on the ground, leaving you completely bare for him to look at.

He slides his calloused thumb over your wetness, and you shiver with need. “Joel, please,” you beg, another whine purring out of you as you feel the pad of his thumb ghost across your clit, leaving you with a pent up cry in your chest.

“What do ya need, baby? Tell me,” he asks, barely touching your folds with the tops of his fingertips which makes you clench up over nothing.

“Need your fingers, your mouth,” you beg, your voice high-pitched from want. With need.

“That so, darlin’?” he teases as he spreads your folds with the tips of his index and middle finger, sliding them up until you can feel them pressed against your clit, drawing slow, meticulous circles as you hear the wetness gathering on his fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as you dig your fingers into the side of the couch, clawing your light pink fingernails as a way to get ahold of yourself before you’re lost into a sea of lust.

“S’right, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need,” he coos.

Before he takes it any further, he drops his hand from your center and lays back against the couch, leaving you out of breath and waiting. “Why’d you stop?” you whine as you turn in the direction he’s in and see him smirking up at you with trouble written all over his face.

“C’mere,” he calls as he curls his index finger in his direction, beckoning you to come over to him.

You look questionably at him and raise a brow. “What?” you ask as you slowly scoot your legs over his, dropping down on his hips carefully.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Not there, sweetheart. Up here,” he smirks as he points to his face. Your eyes go wide at the meaning.

“You want me to…” you trail off, unable to finish your sentence.

“S’right. Want you to sit on my face. C’mon now,” he smirks, a devilish grin taking over his face as his eyes grow dark. He places his hands on your hips as he slides you up his broad chest, stopping just before you get to his neck. You pause right there, blushing as all of a sudden you get extremely nervous.

“Joel…” you choke out, unable to finish your sentence.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he says gently, lifting your dress above your hips as it exposes your bareness for him. He drags his eyes down your center and licks his lips, his eyes blown out as you feel his breath pick up beneath his chest. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. Drippin’ and screamin’ my name,” he groans as his eyes devour you in full. “C’mon now. Sit on my face,” he demands.

You gulp and scoot your hips up, hovering just above his mouth as you stay there, nervous and turned on at the same time.

“I didn’t say hover, sweetheart. I said sit,” he demands, digging his hands into your hips as he tries to lower you down, but you hold back, afraid to crush him.

“But won’t I crush you?” you ask with your breath caught in your throat.

“The only thing that’s gonna crush me is if you don’t sit the fuck down and ride on my face. Now sit!” he growls as he forces your weight down on top of him, the curls above your mound sitting atop his curved nose as he breathes you in deeply.

He inhales your savoury scent and drags his rough tongue all the way from your dripping hole to the tops of your folds, catching the end of your clit as you whine out with need.

“Goddamn, baby. Taste and smell s’good, darlin’. Hold on tight. Not gonna stop till I make you cum all over my face, not gonna stop till you moan my name, not gonna stop till you’re all mine,” he growls as he hooks his arms around your thighs and dives back in.

He slowly drags his tongue over all of you, slotting himself between your folds and lapping meticulous circles around your puffy clit. You feel more slick spill out of you and feel him take your bundle of nerves into his mouth, sucking and slurping as every single nerve ending comes alive against his mouth. When he releases, he shoves his tongue into your wet hole, plunging into your core as you vibrate and fall apart against him.

You twist your fingers into his tousled curls and moan his name with a lull, lost in complete bliss as he works his tongue up and down up and down, making the room foggy with the smell of your arousal and the loud moans you’re giving him. “Joellll, fuck,” you moan as you pull at his hair, sliding yourself up and down his mouth as you ride his face exactly like he wants you to.

He groans at your movements, groans at the way you tug on his curls as his tongue works and works to make you fall apart around him. He slaps your ass hard and digs his nails into your thighs as he speeds up his hot tongue.

He’s pulling, sucking, munching at your clit as you feel the building orgasm. You feel it start in your spine, sliding down to rest in the pit of your stomach as you’re almost there, feel it about to take flight as your toes curl and your fingers slip deeper into his wild locks. He knows you’re close, knows exactly what he’s doing. He can’t speak, too far gone in pleasuring you with his mouth, too deep with sucking your throbbing bundle of nerves again and again as his nail beds prod into your flesh.

He loves to feel you come apart, loves to taste your arousal drip down his throat, loves to hear you moan and thrive while you’re about to come undone, and loves when you pull his hair and moan his name while he has his way with you.

You grind your pussy against his mouth, feel how soaked you’re getting him, and it just makes you that much closer to spilling yourself all over him. You feel him groan against your folds, hear him practically whisper the words into your ear as he licks and sucks you repeatedly into his drooling mouth.

Atta girl. There ya go.

Say my name, sweetheart.

C’mon. Give it to me. That’s a good fuckin’ girl.

He pulls your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks hard, setting off every single nerve ending in your body. He sucks nice and slow and you feel yourself fall apart right there on his hot tongue. You roll your hips and feel the heat slide down your body as you clench over nothing and spill yourself all over his mouth, hearing his groan as he laps up all your slick while you fist his hair roughly through your fingers.

You take a minute to let your panting die out and wait for your body to come back down to earth after your intense face riding orgasm. When you slide back to rest on his chest, you see just how drenched and glistening his mouth and beard are from all your slick and cum. And fuck is it hot.

He smiles up at you as he catches his breath, his blown out pupils relaxing into pure brown warmth as he watches you with admiration on his face. It’s probably the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Rode me s’good, baby. Love the taste of you,” he hums, his crows feet crinkling up at the corners of his eyes as you get lost in those pools of warm honey.

“Yeah, well, I have an excellent instructor with an experienced tongue,” you purr, winking down at him with a big smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles and responds, “Always happy to put my tongue to good use. Especially for you.”

You bite your lower lip and grin down at him, completely entranced by him. You’re so lucky, so fucking lucky. The luckiest girl in the world.

You shift off him and start to turn the other way as you move your legs away from his chest. Before you can crawl to the other side of the couch, he grabs your calves and pulls you back toward him. “Now where do you think you’re goin’, sweetheart?” he asks with an edge to his voice.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask as his large hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you back up to him as he tangles you around the roots of him, firmly planting you to his chest.

“M’not done with you yet, baby girl. You’re gonna give me another one,” he purrs, his deep voice thundering out of his chest like a bear ready to attack.

“Another one? But I’m… I’m so sensitive and…”

He shuts you up quick. “No, you’re not too sensitive. I know what you can handle, and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it like the good girl I know you are,” he growls as he drags you back up to him, hovering just over the edge of his mouth as you feel his hot breath connect with your wetness that’s already dripping for him again.

Fuck.

He wraps his strong arms around your hips and tugs you down where your folds are connecting with his plush lips, and the feeling is already overwhelming. But you need it, need him. You suck in a breath as he licks a long stripe up the entirety of you and you moan out for more.

“Need you so bad, daddy. Please,” you beg, digging your hands into the thighs of his dark jeans as your nails embed in him.

“I’m gonna give it to ya, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna lick every inch of that pretty pussy,” he purrs as he licks another stripe up your folds, spreading you out to devour your needy clit.

You groan out and dig into his jeans, needing something to latch onto. When you open your eyes and look down, you see his bulge pressed against the thick fabric of his jeans, begging to be released.

You take your hand and grab around his thickness, working him through the denim of his pants. You hear him groan under your touch and bite your lip at the idea that dances through your mind. You’re going to sixty-nine with him. This is what’s going to send you over the edge.

You carefully unzip his zipper and free his bulging erection, taking him in your hand as you see the precum release from his slit and lap over the edges of his tip, working your hand nice and slow over him to spread the precum over his entirety.

His skin’s soft in your hand as you slide it back and forth over his large length, feeling the thick veins that spider around him that end just underneath the tip of his head. His head is red and swollen and screaming for you to taste him, and you’re happy to oblige.

Just as you meet your lips at his head and slide your tongue across his drenched tip, he shutters underneath you and lifts your hips just enough to speak as you feel the salty precum slide down your throat all hot and bubbly like.

“Fuck, baby. What’re you doin’?” he says with clenched teeth as you squeeze his cock, gliding your hand up and down his shaft as you turn to face him, smirking down at him with a devilish grin forming on your lips.

“What do you mean what am I doing? Isn’t it obvious? We’re sixty-nining,” you purr, licking your lower lip as you watch his pupils blow out into big black pits.

“Sixty-nine, is that right? You’re a dirty girl, kitty cat,” he smirks as he takes his index and middle fingers and pushes them inside you nice and slow, curling his fingers up to hit that spongy soft spot that makes you clench up against him and moan out slowly.

“That’s right, right there. That feel good?” he asks as you bite your lip and nod at him, choking out another moan as he curls his fingers higher, setting a wildlife throughout your entire core.

“Yes, daddy. Feels incredible,” you groan as you rock against his fingers, letting your own hand twist up and down his hard, wet length in your hand. You want to taste him, now.

“Fuckin’ sixty-nine. And with the prettiest girl in the world? Shit, baby. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger like that pretty pink bow in your hair,” he says with a gentle laugh that sounds a little like unbelief in his voice.

You giggle out a laugh as you stare at him as he smiles up at you between your legs. “Got you wrapped around my finger, do I?”

“Mhm, that’s right, sweetheart. All mine,” he says with a crooked grin curling up over his lips, sending your heart into overdrive.

“All yours,” you confirm with a soft smile.

He takes a minute to look at you, warm eyes focused on your face softly. Then his eyes shift into something dark and carnal as he brings you back down to his mouth.

“Well, go on, darlin’. I’ll take care of this needy pussy while you show me how good you can suck my cock,” he smirks, letting his fingers release from you as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down on him again. You choke out a moan as his tongue presses deep into your folds and up your dripping hole.

You focus back on his hard cock in front of you and go back down, circling his head as you lap up his salty precum and then dive down on him, taking his long length in your mouth as your hand slides up and down him slowly, savouring his taste on your tongue.

You take him as far in your mouth as you can, making sure you hit the back of your throat and choke on him while tears spill down your face as you take him deep in your throat over and over again.

You hear his moans fill the room as his tongue circles your clit, hearing your own moans get washed out by the sound of you gagging on his thick cock as your spit drips down his length and into the coarse hairs that cover his base.

The wet, sticky, messy sounds of Joel eating you out and the gagging sounds of you deep throating his massive cock again and again mix together, forming a wet, harmonious melody that reverberates off each other. It causes more slick to slide down your center as he licks and sucks and pulls on your needy clit. It’s too much, too fucking hot. This is the best, most intimate thing you’ve ever done. But you have a feeling this won’t be the end of it because he’ll want more, you’ll want more. It’s only going to get hotter, more primal, more possessive as you continue.

Joel Miller may be a fucking menace, but you’re no better. You’re a temptress spinning your web as you trap him, seducing him to you, pulling him and making him yours. Both of you wrapping each other into a complete tangle until both of you are completely, irrevocably bound to one another. Just like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to him as he is to you. Two hearts beating wildly for the other just the same.

The room is hot and sticky as both of you get lost in each other’s ecstasy. Moans echoing off the walls as you both are close to orgasm, both so fucking high off each other that you never want to come down. You just want to stay where your bodies are panting in sweat as you continuously get lost in each other’s bliss and euphoria. You’ve never experienced a high quite like this before. Never experienced anything ever like this. It’s just you and Joel, two bodies completely consumed in the other with no plans of ever slipping away from each other. It’s just Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You start to clench up, feel your walls fluttering as they’re about to spill, feel the way he sucks your clit into his giving mouth as his tongue travels up the entirety of you, covering you in his own spit and drool. And it’s so fucking hot.

“C’mon, baby girl. Give it to me. Cum for me. Wanna feel it,” he groans as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks hard. And that’s when you come apart for him, that’s when you feel yourself let go.

You release your lips from his cock and feel a string of drool fall from your lips and attach to the tip of his head, thinking of nothing as you throw back your head back and moan his name as it echoes across the room. “Joellllll, fuck,” you moan as you release white hot liquid all over his mouth. He’s greedy and takes it all, licking you clean as you hear his mouth drink you up, leaving nothing behind.

You rub up and down his cock faster, feeling him stiffen underneath you as his breath goes shallow. Ragged moans leave his chest as he grips your thighs tight and moans out your name slowly.

“Oh fuck, oh shit,” he slurs as you lap at his tip, teasing him before you take him again.

“That’s it, daddy. Go on and cum for me. Wanna take you all in my mouth,” you purr as you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing up and down as you deep throat him, hearing the gagging noises that send him over the edge. He’s right there, just on the edge. You go down again and hold your mouth there as you take him deep, feeling your throat constrict around his thick cock.

“Baby, m’gonna… gonna cum… oh, fuck,” he moans as you feel thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throat, swallowing his large load down as the salty, delicious taste dances down your tastebuds.

You work over his length nice and slow, not stopping till he’s finished cumming. And just when you think he’s done, he surprises you and pours out more inside your mouth.

You see his hand shoot to his sweaty forehead as he grabs at his messy curls, see his eyes roll back as he moans your name again and again. It sounds like music to your ears, something angelic and addictive sinking into your soul at just the sound of him cumming. It’s your sanctuary, your favorite tune in the world. And you’d never get enough of it, never.

When he’s finished sending his spend down your throat, you slowly release your mouth from him as drool cakes your chin. His cock is so messy with spit and drool that you blush at the job you just did on him.

You feel his chest heave up and down underneath you, his breathing gradually slowing down little by little. You take a second to catch your own breath, gulping down breaths of fresh air that smells like him. There’s something beautiful in the rhythm of both of your breaths in sync. It’s almost like you share the same heartbeat, something so intimate about it that you can’t even shake the euphoric feeling. It’s the best thing you’ve ever experienced. He’s the best thing. Joel is.

After a few minutes he helps you sit up as he pulls his briefs and jeans back up over his softening cock. When he sits up, he grabs your lace panties from the floor and pulls them up over your legs, securing them back into place over your overstimulated pussy. He pulls down your dress over your thighs and lays back down against the couch, bringing you down with him.

You sink into his side and wrap an arm around his chest as he cradles you in his arms gently. He takes his hand and runs it up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps over every square inch of skin he marks as his own. And this feels right, all of this feels right. He feels right.

He presses a kiss against your forehead and showers you with the perfect aftercare cuddles. He’s so good, the absolute best at aftercare. It’s always been your favorite ever since the first time he did it with you in this very living room that you sit in now. Joel Miller might be dominant in the bedroom, but he’s a big softie underneath it all. He’s the perfect combination of rough around the edges and pure honey everywhere else.

“Did s’good for me, sweetheart. Always do s’good for me,” he purrs as he places another gentle kiss over your forehead. “My perfect girl,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words. My perfect girl.

“Mhm, your perfect girl,” you whisper back as you snuggle into him more, sinking into his chest as his soft t-shirt scrapes along your jawline.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, his raspy chuckle that sounds like a symphony of guitars in your ear.

“Me too,” you whisper back.

As the movie comes to an end, Joel grabs the controller and puts on Halloween as you hear the theme song play from the speakers. He relaxes his arm back down around you and pulls you closer to where your cheek is nestled in the crook of his neck as he takes his other hand and runs his fingers through your waves. And this might be your favorite thing ever. Being in his arms. You never want him to let go. Never ever.

You feel yourself start to slip into unconsciousness, feel yourself relax into him as the darkness pulls you under. You don’t know when, you don’t know how, but after a few minutes of cuddling you and Joel fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth as sleep takes you down fast.

And then something happens, something unexpected and unwelcome.

After what seems like hours of sleep, you’re woken up to the harsh lights of the living room being turned on. You jolt awake and sit up, blinking a few times to get your eyes situated to the fluorescent lights above. Joel rubs his eyes and follows your lead, adjusting to being woken up from a deep sleep. Your jaw drops when you see who’s standing in the corner of the room. Sarah.

Oh, fuck.

“I knew it, I knew!” she jumps up and down as her long curls bounce up and down along with her, a big smile spread across her face as she can’t seem to keep her excitement down.

“Shit,” Joel mutters under his breath as your eyes go wide in panic. You try to speak but you can’t. You’re frozen, not knowing what to do or say. You’ve been caught red handed.

“I knew it all along! This is so exciting! You and dad? Oh my God, I’m a genius,” she squeals as she jumps again.

“Sarah! Calm down,” Joel warns as his eyes narrow slightly. Sarah stops jumping but continues beaming at the both of you. You feel like your heart is about to come out of your throat. Your dad. What if she tells your dad?

“Sarah, you’re not gonna tell my parents are you? They’d kill me,” you rush out with your breathing uncontrolled. It feels like you're about to throw up with the knot that’s in your stomach. Joel notices your panic immediately and does what he can to calm you down.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he urges as he cups your chin and turns you toward him, his deep brown eyes almost calming you down. Almost. “She’s not gonna tell them. Right, Sarah?” he asks as he turns to her, giving her that knowing look.

She imitates her lips being a zipper and acts like she zips them tight. “My lips are sealed. Promise,” she nods as she looks back and forth between the two of you, your anxiety slowly calming down at the confirmation.

“See? She won’t say a word. It’s gonna be okay, darlin’,” he confirms as he soothes you over, one hand rubbing your thigh to calm you down. You nod in acceptance.

Sarah calls your name and you look up. “I’ve noticed the way dad’s looked at you for a while now. Been wondering when he was going to make a move,” she laughs, shaking her head. “He’s liked you for a long time, even if he never told me. I could see it in his eyes.”

You just look over at Joel and smile at him. “Yeah, I’ve liked him for a long time, too,” you say quietly. Joel meets your eyes and smiles at you, the corners of his lips curling up to form those perfect dimples again.

“This is so cute, I think I’m gonna throw up,” she says as she claps her hands together.

“Alright, alright. Go on up and go to bed, it’s past your bedtime,” he says as he points at the clock that says five past midnight.

“Okay,” she groans. “Night, love birds,” she sings as she leaves the room and heads up the stairs.

“You sure she won’t say anything?” you ask nervously, anxiety still swirling through your gut.

“If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s keeping secrets. So, think we’re safe,” he confirms as you blow out a breath you had been holding.

“That’s a relief. I guess she was bound to find out at some point, right?”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” he says as he nods his head. His calloused thumb shifts against your jawline and he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You lean into him and get lost in his scent, in his abundance of warmth. When you hear the creak of the stairs, you pull apart from his lips fast.

Joel leans over the couch annoyed and peeks up at the stairs. “Sarah?” he asks in a deep voice, warning her to stop spying.

“Uhh, yeah?” she asks nervously.

“Bed. Now,” he growls. She obeys and runs up the stairs, not wasting a second of time. He sighs in annoyance. “She’s never gonna let me live this down,” he groans.

“Hey,” you say as you grab his hand and entangle your fingers in his. “I’ll be right there with you through it.”

He rasps out a chuckle and looks you in the eyes, calm brown eyes returning to look at you. “You want me to take you home? I can drop your car off tomorrow.”

You shake your head no. “Can I stay here tonight? Don’t really want to go home. I’d rather stay with you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. You always have a place here.” He pushes a curl behind your ear and pulls you back in, planting his lips against yours as a warm wave of peace and serenity cloud your mind.

“C’mon. Let’s get you up to bed.” He pulls you up and picks you up bridal style as you squeal out and wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss his cheek and tuck your head against the crook of his neck as he carries you up the stairs. And somehow you know it’ll be okay. Things will turn out okay because you’re with Joel.

So when he pulls you tight against him under the sheets and you're wrapped in his t-shirt with his arms around you, you know you’re in good hands. Nothing can ruin what you and Joel have. Not even your dad. Joel has your whole heart and nothing can change that now.

Tags: @amyispxnk @janaispunk @blueseastorm @joelmillersblog @joelalorian @heartstoptrying @littlevenicebitch69 @getitoutofmymindwrites @akah565 @keylimebeag @dugiioh @laurrrra @untamedheart81 @roostersforevergirl @itsokbbygrl @pedrostories

Part 4

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

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Drabble Roulette: Andy - Public Sex

Hey hey! This weekend (July 6 -7) I’m going to be playing drabble roulette! I’ve curated a list of characters, tropes, AUs, and kinks and I’m spinning the wheel! Hopefully I can do this once a month as a little writing exercise.

Character: Andy Barber

Warnings: this drabble includes noncon, cheating, public sex. Please mind these warnings and take care.

Explicit, 18+.

You yawn as you hang your towel over the bar. Work trips are exhausting. You have even less time yourself and with it goes all your energy. In those few hours you have, you try to enjoy them.

You’re over reading. Too stagnant. So, you finally decide to venture down to the hotel pool and swim a few laps. They’ll tire you out enough to fall asleep and get some of the kinks out from those uncomfortable conference room chairs.

Thankfully, you’re the only one who got the idea. It’s offseason for most hotels. Kids are in school, parents are stuck in offices, and only those on the road take up the vacancies. You bask in the solace as you sit on the edge and dangle your legs into the water.

You slide down slowly, adjusting to the temperature little by little. You walk deeper into the pool, dipping down so your shoulders are beneath the surface. You spread your arms and take a breath. You put your head under and pull through the water with your arms, kicking to propel yourself further.

You lose yourself in the familiar motions. You touch one end, bob up, take a breath, and turn back the other direction. Back and forth, back and forth.

You latch onto the lip of the pool to steady yourself. You cling to it to keep from sinking under as you paddle at the deep end. The chlorine dries your nose hotly.

“Long day?” A voice echoes in the airy empty space.

You didn’t notice the man. He’s still dry as he stands at the other end of the pool. Your fun is spoiled. You won’t go, you’ll just have to share.

“Mmhm,” you hum back.

He walks along the edge, eyeing the water. You think you recognise him. He might be one of the faces you passed at the continental breakfast bar that morning. You see so many it’s hard to remember.

He’s tall and his shoulders and arms are rounded with muscles. He wears black shorts and turns to face you, showing off a lined stomach and buff chest. You plunge back under and start another set of laps. When you take another break, he’s doing the same, arms cutting up and under. He’s faster than you.

He passes so close you feel the water move. You quickly make distance as you fall into another cycle; shallow to deep, shallow to deep. When you come again, you can’t spot him. You don’t look very hard. He doesn’t matter.

You veer off to the side of the pool and hook your arms over the edge, crossing them as you hang from the tile. You lower your head and even out your breathing. You are suitably tired.

Before you can lift yourself up and over, the water splashes behind you. The man grips the slightly raised lip on either side of you and raises himself up. He crushes you against the side as he does.

“Woah, what the--”

“Work trips are lonely, huh?” He grits as he nuzzles your crown. “Nice to unwind?”

“What are you doing, you creep?”

“Shh,” he hushes you and surprises you as he loops his thick arm around your neck, “don’t wanna draw too much attention.”

“Hey, you--” He flexes until you can’t speak.

“Come on. Two strangers, passing in the night...”

You pull on his forearm and kick your legs. He pushes into you, grinding his pelvis against yours. Where your toes barely touch, he has his feet planted flat.

“No rules on the road,” he purrs along your ear.

You tug on his arm harder, “get off--”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he pulls his other hand from the pool, the glint of gold on his finger flashing in your vision. He feels along your side as he crowds you against the tile. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

You whimper as his hand tickles along your stomach and his fingers creep along the top of your bikini. You push your elbow back and he grunts. He's not deterred. You dig your nails into his wrist.

“I’ll scream--”

He tightens his arm again and tuts, “you’ll be begging for more."

He snarls and shoves his hand down your bikini. You puff out desperately and wriggle, unable to free yourself of his grasp. You should have just stayed in your room and finished the damn book.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #drabble #drabble roulette #defending jacob

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 1 year ago

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 43

Part 1 Part 42

Will’s loitering around the school, Dustin, Will, and Lucas plastered to his sides like burrs as he waits for Jonathan to get out of school and pick him up. The hallways are almost empty – everyone else allowed to take buses, and ride bike, and walk home; Will left the odd one out.

Even his friends who are dawdling by his side as they walk the empty parking lot have bikes chained up at the front of the school. They’re only still here because Will’s not allowed to be left alone. By anyone.

The air is crisp, biting into his cheeks, but it’s too crisp to be the other side. Snow is on the horizon, not ash. He can smell it.

Mike’s talking about El in a hushed voice, moaning about Hopper blocking all access like the protective Father he isn’t. Will wishes his problems felt as small as Mike’s are,, and promptly feels bad about the thought.

It’s just, winter is in the air, and the sky is getting darker earlier each day. In a few more weeks, Will’s not sure he’ll even be able to get home after school without the specter of the Demogorgon hunting him from the shadows between each tree.

He wishes he didn’t live so close to the woods.

He wishes he could live in Steve and Eddie’s pockets like they live in each other’s. He only feels covered when he’s looking at Steve Harrington’s broad back.

Jonathan’s car pulls into the empty parking lot, and Dustin, Lucas, and Mike run off with shouts of goodbye. Only Dustin looks back, waits for Will to shuffle into the passenger seat before waving and peddling quickly to catch up.

Jonathan’s heat is up high enough to hurt. Will sinks into it, puts his frozen hands up to the vents to dethaw.

“How was school?” Jonathan asks, The Doors playing near silently from his crackly radio.

“It was okay,” Will says, thinking of Zombie Boy shouted out at him like a slur in the hallways. Thinking about how sometimes he’ll walk up to his friend’s and be greeted by abrupt, strained silences, like a few days in the Upside-Down has made him a freaks among the freaks.

Jonathan hums, but doesn’t press. WIll loves him for it. As they drive toward home, the long-familiar fishhook feelings hooks and yanks his stomach. In a moving car, it’s almost a queasy thing, like he always imagined being on a sailboat would feel. He’s being pulled in two directions and his organs are sloshing around with it.

“Can we go see Steve and Eddie?” Will asks quietly.

Jonathan’s hands clench hard, shitty steering wheel vinyl creaking. He sighs, like a dog when you won’t share a piece of your dinner no matter how hard it begs. He takes a u-turn without a word, heading toward Forest Hills, knowing just like Will does that if they’re not already there, that’s where Steve and Eddie will end up soon.

Will knows they’re not there yet before Jonathan parks in the vacant spot where Eddie’s van usually presides. He puts it in park, doesn’t take the key out of the ignition, turns the heater down just a hair.

“I just don’t get it,” Jonathan says, looking at the Munson’s closed front door, not looking Will’s way at all.

“Get what?” Will asks, even though he knows.

Jonathan sighs that same sigh. “Just–” he runs a hand through his discheveled hair until it partially covers his eyes, “you spend a few days with them and now it’s like they’re all you think about.”

Will looks down at his lap, can’t meet Jonathan’s eyes even when he feels his brother turn to look at him. Left unsaid in the space between them is that Jonathan doesn’t get them, doesn’t get him anymore, when they’re all each other has had for years.

“You weren’t there,” Will says. He knows it’ll hurt even before Jonathan breaths in like he’s been shot.

The heater and radio static break up the silence. Will can still feel it.

“Can you–” Jonathan srarts. Will sees, out of the corner of his eyes as Jonathan reaches out toward him before dropping it. “Can you try to explain?” Will looks down at his dirty sneakers, thinking. He doesn’t have the words. But hten Jonathan says, “please?” all quiet and desperate and Will turns.

He pulls his feet up onto the seat, arms wrapped around his knees, turning his body to face Jonathan as Jonathan does the same. Jonathan’s knee bangs on the bottom of the steering wheel, but he gets it all the way up to mirror Will’s posture, both their shoulders hunched, both of their arms around their knees.

“I was really scared,” WIll says, for the first time admitting something that was obvious. “And then they saved me.”

Jonathan nods, meeting his eyes. “And that’s it?”

Will shakes his head, looks down at the stick shift separating them. “No,” he says, fidgeting his fingers anxiously. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Jonathan reaches across the car, covering Will’s knee with his big palm and squeezing. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” He doesn’t understand, Will can tell.

“No,” he says, shaking his head, eyes prickling. The fishline is slackening now. He can feel it. They’re on their way. “This isn’t like that.”

“Like?”

“Like, a stupid teenager thing,” Will says. How does he say this isn’t about puberty, or growing up, or a fight with his friends, or even the isolation of the school halls where everyone treats him like he’s oil and everyone else is water.

“Okay,” Jonathan says in that calm, quiet way that always calms WIll down. “What is it then?”

Will looks back down at the stick shift, Jonathan’s foot now propped up against it after he’d stretched it out. His sneakers are too small – Will can see his pinky toe pushing up against the side.

“Like, there’s something in me,” Will says. “And it’s in them too.” Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but Will can feel his eyes on him. “I can feel them, right now.” He whispers it out, a secret in this car confessional of two.

“Feel them, how?”

“It’s, itchy? When they’re too far.” WIll says, struggling to find words he’s not sure exist. “And I can tell they’re turning into the trailer park right now.” He touches the hollow just below his ribs, looks up into Jonathan’s eyes. “Right here.”

Jonathan’s brows are furrowed, eyes intense, just as Eddie’s van comes peeling into view, parking haphazardly in front of Eddie’s trailer. Jonathan’s eyes go wide. He hadn’t gotten it until this moment. Will can see it hit him in the dilation of his pupils. “Like El?” he asks, quiet as Eddie tumbles out of the driver’s seat and rushes over to open the passenger side door for Steve like a goofy knight.

“I don’t know.”

Jonathan glances over just in time to watch a wan-faced Steve take Eddie’s hand to hoist himself out of the van. “Do they?”

Part 44

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b

#steddie upsidedown au #my fic #steddie fic

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rootedinrevisions · 4 months ago

Text

Painted Him Perfect

SUMMARY: Inspired by Alexandra Kay’s song "Painted Him Perfect." Tyler and his soon-to-be ex-wife grapple with the stark reality of their crumbling marriage as she makes her way to Oklahoma to finalize their divorce. Despite the façade of a perfect relationship portrayed to their fans, her heartfelt video revealing their separation exposes the cracks hidden beneath the surface.

WARNINGS: ANGST. DIVORCE.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

She stared into the camera, her finger hovering over the record button. It felt strange—foreign, even—to sit in front of the camera like this, alone. The space next to her on the couch seemed too big, too empty. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

With a shaky breath, she pressed record.

“Hey guys,” she started, her voice soft but clear, “I know you’ve all been wondering... asking where my ring is, and why I haven’t been around much lately.” Her throat tightened, but she pushed forward. “It’s hard to say this, and I’m a little embarrassed, but... I guess it’s time I be honest.”

The camera was unforgiving, capturing every flicker of pain in her eyes, the quiver in her voice that she tried so hard to hide.

She paused, swallowing hard. Just say it, she told herself. Rip the Band-Aid off.

“Tyler and I... we’re in the process of separating.” The words were out now, floating in the space between her and the camera, no longer just a thought she could bury deep inside. “I... we gave it everything we had. But sometimes, even when you love someone, it’s not enough to fix what's broken.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She had to stay strong, for them, for herself. “The truth is, I painted him perfect. I painted our relationship perfect. I wanted to believe that what we had was flawless, but... it wasn’t. And it’s time we both move on.”

With trembling fingers, she reached out and stopped the recording. The silence in the room felt deafening. She stared at the dark screen for a moment, letting the gravity of what she’d just said sink in. It was done. The video was out there, and soon, everyone would know the truth.

Hours later, the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road was the only thing keeping her tethered to the present as she drove. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the divorce papers lying in the seat beside her like an unspoken weight. The highway stretched endlessly in front of her, but her thoughts were stuck on the video she’d recorded earlier.

I guess it’s time I be honest...

She’d replayed those words a dozen times since pressing upload, still second-guessing if she’d said too much, or too little. Had she painted herself too much as the victim? Had she been too hard on Tyler? Or maybe, she’d gone too easy on him. After all, he’d let her do all the talking. He hadn’t been the one sitting there in front of the camera, baring his soul. That had been her.

I painted pink skies at sunrise to cover all the blue... she thought bitterly. For years, she’d made excuses, drawn pretty pictures over the cracks in their marriage so no one would see.

Seven years. It felt like a lifetime, but also like it had gone by in a blur. High school sweethearts, everyone had called them the perfect couple. She’d believed it too, for a long time. She’d even convinced herself that love was supposed to hurt sometimes, that the sleepless nights spent waiting for him to come home, the tears shed quietly so no one else would hear—that was what real commitment looked like.

The reality, though, had been far different. The long-distance stretches while Tyler was off filming for the channel, the pressure to always be “on” for their audience, the way they’d smile through the tension in front of the camera, and then barely speak off it... It had eaten away at them, piece by piece, until there was nothing left to salvage.

A sharp pang of regret twisted in her chest as the road signs blurred past. She didn’t know if she was more upset about the end of their marriage or the fact that she had to drive all the way to Oklahoma to finalize it. Just his signature, she thought, glancing at the divorce papers again. Then it's done.

But why did it feel so unfinished? Why did a part of her still ache to see him? To talk to him one last time? Would this be the closure she needed, or just another painful reminder of how far they’d fallen?

She sighed heavily, turning up the music on the radio, trying to drown out her thoughts. The fans would know by now. The comments had probably started pouring in—shocked, confused, supportive, heartbroken. She hadn’t checked yet. She wasn’t ready to face it. What she’d told the camera had been the truth, but somehow, it still felt like a betrayal.

“Tyler and I... we’re in the process of separating.”

The phrase echoed in her mind. Even saying it aloud had felt surreal. How had they gotten here? The perfect couple. The YouTube sensation. The high school sweethearts that everyone thought had it all. We painted it perfect—a lie they both were complicit in.

She gripped the wheel tighter as she neared Oklahoma, her heart pounding in her chest. Would he fight it? Would he avoid signing the papers like he had been doing for weeks? So much so that she was now driving to where he was because he refused to come home. Would he try to stop her from walking away? Or would he finally just sign the papers, let her go, and close this chapter of their lives?

The thought of seeing him again stirred up something painful and raw. She wasn’t sure what was worse—the idea that he’d try to convince her to stay one last time or the fear that he wouldn’t.

The neon motel sign flickered dimly in the distance, casting a dull, orange glow on the cracked pavement. As she pulled into the parking lot, her heart sank further into the pit of her stomach. This was it—the place where everything was about to end. The place where she'd officially close the chapter on a love she'd clung to for too long.

She parked and sat there for a moment, staring blankly at the dashboard, trying to steady her nerves. Tyler and his crew hadn’t arrived yet. The thought brought a small wave of relief, but it didn’t last long. He’d be here soon enough. She’d have to face him, and there’d be no more hiding behind a screen or carefully crafted words. No more painted pink skies.

With a deep breath, she grabbed her overnight bag and made her way to the office, the cool night air doing little to ease the tension winding through her body. The clerk handed her a room key without much fanfare, barely making eye contact as he rattled off the directions. She thanked him quietly before heading to her room.

Once inside, she dropped her bag on the floor and sank onto the edge of the bed. She texted Tyler that she was there and what room she was in. Then she looked around. The room was small, plain—just a bed, a TV, and a small table near the window. It was far from the kind of places she and Tyler used to stay when they traveled together for his channel, but maybe that was fitting. Their relationship wasn’t anything like it used to be either.

She kicked off her shoes, curling her legs up under her as she sat on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. The silence was suffocating, the weight of her decision pressing down on her more than she had anticipated. She needed a distraction, something to fill the space, so without thinking, she reached for her phone.

She hesitated for a moment, her finger hovering over the YouTube app. She hadn’t looked at the comments since posting the video. A part of her didn’t want to. But the other part—the part that had shared her life with these people for years—needed to know how they were reacting. Did they hate her? Did they blame her? Or maybe they were just as confused as she was.

Opening the app, her video was the first thing to pop up on her feed. The thumbnail image was a still of her sitting on the couch, her eyes downcast, hands folded in her lap. She clicked on it and scrolled down to the comments, bracing herself for whatever she might find.

The messages were already flooding in. Thousands of them. Some were supportive:

"We love you, and we’re here for you, no matter what. 💖"

"I can’t believe this... You and Tyler were my favorite couple, but I respect your decision. It must have been so hard."

"I always looked up to you two. My heart’s breaking, but I understand."

She blinked back tears as she read through more of them. Some were shocked:

"What? I never saw this coming!"

"Please tell me this isn’t real... you two seemed so perfect together."

And then there were the ones that cut deep, even though she knew they didn’t mean to:

"I thought you guys were the real deal. It’s hard to believe all those vlogs were just a lie."

"I don’t know how to feel about this. I feel like I’ve been watching a fake relationship this whole time."

She bit her lip, scrolling faster, her chest tightening with every message. It wasn’t a lie. She and Tyler had loved each other. Maybe they still did, in a way. But what they had wasn’t enough anymore. They had grown apart, and pretending otherwise would’ve been cruel—to themselves and to the people who’d supported them for so long.

Her finger paused over a comment that stopped her in her tracks.

"Why didn’t you fight harder to save it? Real love is worth fighting for."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, and she quickly wiped away the tears that had begun to spill. She had fought. She had given it everything she had—four-hour drives one way just to see him for a night. She had sat through numerous sessions of couple’s therapy with tears in her eyes, hoping, praying that they could fix what was broken. But in the end, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.

She threw the phone down on the bed, her hands trembling as she ran them through her hair. Why did she look at the comments? What had she expected? Closure? Validation? She didn’t know. But now, sitting in this dim motel room, alone with her thoughts, all she felt was regret. Maybe not for the video, but for the way things had turned out.

The truth was, she had to be honest with them. She owed it to the fans who had supported them, who had cheered for their relationship, even when things were far from perfect behind the scenes. They deserved to know why she wouldn’t be around anymore. They deserved the truth.

But it didn’t make it any easier.

She leaned back against the headboard, pulling the thin motel blanket over her legs as she closed her eyes. Her mind wandered back to the good times, the times before everything had gone wrong. The road trips, the late-night filming sessions, the moments that felt so real, so genuine. She had painted those moments perfect in her mind, just like she had in the videos.

But now the paint was peeling, and all that was left underneath was the raw truth. They had fallen apart, and there was no covering it up anymore.

The sound of tires crunching gravel outside made her sit up straight, her heart jumping in her chest. She stood and moved to the window, peeking through the thin curtain. Tyler’s truck had just pulled into the lot.

He was here.

Her heart raced as she watched him get out of the truck, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was dreading this meeting just as much as she was. His crew began unloading their gear from the back, but her eyes stayed locked on Tyler.

This was it. The moment of truth.

She stepped away from the window, her body tense as she moved back to the bed, her thoughts spinning. In a few minutes, she’d face him again. The man she’d spent nearly a decade of her life with. The man who, despite everything, still held a part of her heart.

And all she had to do was get him to sign the papers.

A soft knock echoed through the small motel room, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. Her heart stuttered as she stood, wiping her clammy hands on her jeans before making her way to the door. She hesitated for a second, hand hovering over the knob. She wasn’t ready for this—for the finality of it all. But it had to be done.

With a deep breath, she turned the handle and pulled the door open.

There he was, standing just outside her door, looking as worn and exhausted as she felt. Tyler’s eyes met hers for only a split second before darting away, his jaw tense, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and something about the sight of him made her chest tighten.

"Hey," she said softly, stepping aside to let him in.

"Hey." His voice was low, hoarse even, as he walked past her into the room. He paused in the middle of the small space, turning slightly as she closed the door behind them, sealing them off from the rest of the world.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The silence between them was thick, suffocating, weighed down by everything left unsaid. She stood by the door, leaning against it, her arms crossed over her chest. Tyler shifted on his feet, his eyes glued to the floor, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her.

Finally, he broke the silence. “So... the video.”

She swallowed hard, the guilt already gnawing at her. “Yeah.”

Tyler lifted his head slightly, meeting her gaze for the first time since he walked in. There was a tightness around his eyes, a frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “You didn’t tell me you were going to post it.”

Her stomach twisted at the hurt in his voice. "I thought we talked about—"

“We talked about saying something, but we didn’t agree to this,” he interrupted, his voice sharp but not angry. Just... tired. “You went ahead and posted it without even running it by me.”

She exhaled, pressing her back harder against the door. “I know. I’m sorry. I just... I felt like I had to do it. People were starting to ask questions, and it didn’t feel right to leave them in the dark.”

“And it felt right to tell the whole world before we even finished this?” he asked, his voice quiet but laced with emotion. “Before we talked about this in person? Before we even signed the damn papers?”

His words hit harder than she expected. She had told herself she was doing the right thing, that she owed it to their fans to be honest. But she hadn’t considered how Tyler would feel, how he might see it as another layer of their relationship unraveling without him being able to stop it.

She dropped her gaze to the floor, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just... I needed to be honest with them.”

There was a long pause, the air between them thick with unsaid words. Tyler rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a breath like he was trying to gather his thoughts.

When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “Are you really sure you want to do this? End it like this?”

Her heart clenched painfully at the question. She had known this moment would come, that he’d ask. And yet, standing here, face-to-face with him, she still wasn’t sure how to answer. She felt like she’d been unraveling for years, trying to hold onto a marriage that was slipping through her fingers. But now, standing in front of the man she’d loved for more than a decade, she wasn’t sure if letting go was the right thing anymore.

Tyler took a step closer, his eyes pleading. “We can fix this. We can try again—go to a different therapist, take some time away from everything, whatever it takes. Just... don’t throw it all away. Not like this.”

Her chest ached at the vulnerability in his voice, the desperation that was so unlike him. This was Tyler—confident, easygoing Tyler who had always been the strong one, the steady one. But now, here he was, asking her to give them one more shot, to believe in what they once had, even though she wasn’t sure she could anymore.

“I don’t want to give up on us,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I still love you. I know things haven’t been perfect, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fix it. We’ve been through so much together. Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to try one more time?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she blinked them back furiously. She had wanted to believe that for so long—that if they just worked harder, they could fix what was broken. She had made excuses for their distance, for the growing cracks in their relationship, because she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. But now, after everything, she didn’t know if they could go back to the way things were.

“I don’t know if I have anything left to give,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Tyler’s face fell, and for a moment, she thought he might walk out right then. But instead, he took another step toward her, his hand reaching out to touch her arm gently. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just... let’s not make any decisions tonight. Let’s take some time. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Her resolve wavered, and she hated herself for it. She had been so sure, so certain that this was the right thing. But now, standing here in the same room with him, she could feel her walls crumbling. A part of her still wanted to believe that they could make it, that they could find their way back to each other.

But another part of her knew that they were too far gone.

She stepped back slightly, creating space between them even though it hurt to do so. “Talking tomorrow isn’t going to change anything.”

“I’m not ready to give up,” he said, his voice thick. “But if you are… I guess I don’t have a choice.”

His hand fell to his side, and for a long moment, they just stood there in silence, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. Tyler’s jaw clenched, his expression hardening even as the hurt shone through his eyes. Slowly, his gaze drifted to the small table by the window where the divorce papers lay, neatly stacked, the pen resting on top of them.

The silence stretched between them, oppressive, until finally, Tyler moved. He walked toward the table, his movements slow and deliberate. She watched as he picked up the pen, holding it in his hand like it weighed a thousand pounds.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring down at the papers. She saw his shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath, and her heart ached at the sight. This was it—the moment they both had been avoiding for so long.

Without looking at her, Tyler leaned down. The pen hovered above the line where his signature was supposed to go, and for a second, she thought he might not do it. But then, in one swift motion, he pressed the pen to the paper and signed his name. The scratch of the pen was deafening in the quiet room, each stroke feeling like a nail in the coffin of their marriage.

When he finished, he dropped the pen on the table, the clatter sounding final. He kept a copy for himself, rolling it up and putting it into his back pocket. He then pushed the other copy of the papers back across the table toward her, but still, he didn’t look up.

“Let me know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you change your mind.”

She stared at the papers, her heart heavy as she realized that it was really over. He had signed, but the weight of the decision still hung in the air between them, unresolved and agonizing.

She watched as he turned toward the door, every step he took feeling like a knife twisting deeper into her chest. Just before he reached for the handle, he paused, his hand resting on the knob.

“Whether it’s me or someone else…I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for,” he said softly, not turning around. “I really do.”

And with that, he walked out, leaving her standing in the middle of the room, alone once again.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Angst

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