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whocaresstillthelouvre · 3 months ago

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Teach Me How To Play Coach Miller

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Austin Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 3,275 Summary: You're home alone, relishing a lazy day when your hot neighbor knocks on your door. Seems his TV is out and he really wants to watch the Rangers game. You know nothing about baseball... maybe he can teach you a thing or two? Warnings: smut, porn with very little plot, age gap (reader's college aged, Joel's in his 30's), oral (f & m receiving), unprotected p in v, riding, baseball terms, Joel's a filthy liar but it benefits all of us, mentions of voyeurism and masturbation, big balls Joel Miller in gray sweatpants, no use of y/n, not beta read.

Masterlist

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It’s another famous hot September afternoon in Texas. Too damn hot to do anything besides walk outside, roll your eyes at the sweltering temperature, turn around and walk back inside. The thick humidity and overbearing heat makes your skin slick and clothing stick in all the wrong places– or maybe the right places– it depends on who’s looking.

A ring of the doorbell interrupts your lazy day movie marathon. The house is yours for the weekend, your roommates are all gone for a festival and your coursework is all done, so naturally you’re laid on the couch taking a reprieve from the overbearing temperature.

Another ring.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you grumble.

You open the door, your knees buckling at your bad luck.

GOD DAMNIT. OF COURSE IT’S JOEL MILLER. *THE* JOEL MILLER. The hot DILF you and your roomies all lust after. The broad, golden skinned GOD of a man that you all argue over who’s going to get to bed one day.

“Joel? H-hey,” you say, attempting to hide your embarrassment over how you look. It’s 4 PM and you’re still wearing what you woke up in… an oversized Rangers shirt of your ex-boyfriend’s over a pair of lace boyshorts… it’s too freakin’ hot for actual clothes.

“Afternoon–uh–so my cable box just stopped working and it’s the clenching game for the playoffs,” he nervously huffs, putting a hand to the back of his neck. “I know it’s crazy to ask, but can I watch the game on your TV?” He lifts a six pack of beer enticingly, “I brought this as payment.”

“Oh,” your eyes widen in surprise. Joel Miller… on your couch? Yes! Joel Miller on your couch! You open the door wider and step aside to let him in. “Of course, make yourself at home.”

He walks into your house… this is a dream come true, he’s in GRAY SWEATPANTS and they hug his thick body perfectly.

You take a precursory look around your living room, silently thanking yourself for picking up the house yesterday. Now the hunk of a neighbor you’ve touched yourself to while watching him mow his lawn is closer to you than he’s ever been.

You quickly stroll over to the coffee table, picking up the remote and handing it to him.

“Thanks for this, appreciate it sweetheart,” Joel says, sitting on the couch, taking up a whole cushion with his broad body.

Ohhhh, sweetheart. His eyes darken at the sight of your breath hitching, before his eyes gaze lowers to your bare legs.

“Yeah, o-of course,” you nod, feeling very underdressed with your handsome neighbor taking a seat on the couch you were just laid out on a few minutes ago. “I’ll go get an opener.”

Joel turns the game on and settles his back against the couch cushions, “Thanks sweetheart.”

The ceiling fan chains clang against one another, it only does this on high, it drives you crazy but the soft breeze it sends down is worth the annoyance. Your skin’s too overheated sitting only a couch cushion’s length away from Joel. Your foot nervously taps against the carpet while you try to focus on the book you’re reading. You’re overwhelmed by his presence, hearing his lips form around the beer bottle and taking a swig, the movement of his body against the couch cushions, the smell of wood and coffee he’s brought into the house. You sigh, turning your attention to the game, maybe today’s the day you’ll learn about America’s pastime.

“Why is it called a shortstop? Do they have to be short?” You ask putting your book down.

“No,” Joel chuckles, “s’just what the position is called.”

“Ah, and every team has one?”

“Yes,” he shakes his head, “what exactly do you know about this game, sweetheart?”

“Um, I know I like their tight pants.”

“Oh really?” Joel looks over at you, crooking his eyebrow up.

“Yep, and the guy throwing the ball is really tall and cute.”

“That’s called a pitcher sweetheart,” he shakes his head at your ignorance.

“And he throws to the…” your finger taps your cheek while you mock contemplation, “catcher?”

“That’s right,” he nods, his voice dropping an octave. “What else do you know?”

“I know there’s bases and home runs, adorable mascots and Cracker Jacks.”

“What bases?”

“Hmm. First base, second base, third base, and home.”

“Good girl,” he grins, “you’re a smart girl.”

“I know I am,” you smugly smile at him. “First base is kissing. Second base is above the waist, third base is bel—“

Joel’s laugh cuts you off. “Is that right? Seems you know all about baseball, you’ve… ‘played baseball’ before?”

“Mm,” you lean towards him, “I like playing baseball… I just haven’t in a few months… you know besides practicing with myself.”

He shakes his head, a devilish smirk lights his face as he angles his body towards you. “You practice a lot?”

“Yeah, especially when my hot neighbor is outside mowing his lawn and he gets all sweaty. My bedroom window looks right out on his lawn.” Joel’s eyes widen at the realization that you’re talking about him. “Sometimes he lifts the hem of his shirt and wipes his brow, I get to see a peek of his stomach, it’s super hot.”

“Funny,” he puts his beer bottle down and licks his lips. “I have a hot neighbor too. I’ve, uh, ‘practiced’ before while thinking about how good she looks running in her tight shorts and tiny tank top.”

Your core begins to pulse at his words, desire lights inside your body. Joel Miller has noticed you *and* gets off to the thought of you?! And now, he’s on your couch, sending you a lascivious look. Let’s ball.

“Can I play?” you ask, head tilted with a smirk before scooting closer to him.

“Yeah?” his eyebrows crook up. “You want to play with an old man like me?”

You nod. “Put me in coach.”

“Batter up baby,” he growls, grabbing and lifting you to straddle his lap. You’re thankful for your measly lace panties, less layers between you and Joel’s dick. “You wanna show me first base?”

You gulp, pouty lips agape begging to be kissed by Joel Miller. “First base,” you nuzzle your nose against his, “is kissing.”

“Mm,” he nips at your bottom lip, “then kiss me, pretty girl.”

You pull away, angling your head to look at the TV. “But what about the game?”

“They’re losing by four,” he grabs your chin, turning your head back towards him. “Plus, I don’t think it’s possible to care about the game when a pretty girl like you is on my lap.”

Leaning forward, you plant a soft kiss and suck his plush bottom lip into your mouth. Your heart flutters inside your chest when his mouth opens inviting you to lick into it as he lifts the hem of your shirt.

You swipe his hand away, “Not at second base yet.”

“Fuck,” he pants. “Been wanting to see you since you moved in last year.”

His confession rolls through your body, sending waves of want through your limbs. You want to rock your hips against him, you want to feel your bare skin against his, you want to feel him inside you, but you also love the game you’re playing and it’s not just every day your hot neighbor comes over to watch a ballgame and winds up with his tongue in your mouth.

You deepen the kiss, moaning against his lips as your tongues collide and explore each other’s mouths. Raucous shouting of the announcers on the TV interrupts your makeout session.

“Mmph, will you look at that? Rangers just hit a grand slam ’n tied the game. You wanna celebrate now?” Joel grabs the hem of your shirt and angles his eyebrow up.

“Show me second base Joel.”

Your shirt is lifted and tossed aside, your nipples pebble under the cool fan air and Joel’s attention. He stares, eyes wide in astonishment as he takes your bare chest in.

“Second base is above the waist stuff,” you direct. His large, calloused hands mold around the weight of your flesh.

“Mm, knew you’d be soft,” he rasps in awe. His touch drives you crazy, just an hour ago, you were dozing off on the couch to Romy & Michelle’s High School Reunion, now Joel Miller is holding your tits in his hands. He rubs the tips of his thumbs back and forth across your nipples. “Can I use my mouth on you baby?” he asks, his gaze moving from your chest to your eyes pleadingly.

“God yes,” you pant, rising up to bring your chest to his mouth. He clasps his lips around your nipple, sucking and pulling, swirling his tongue around the peak before letting it go with a pop. Your back arches, your weight settling firmer against him when he nips his way across your chest, taking your other breast into his mouth and suckling. Your hands snake underneath his shirt and run across the plush of his stomach petting your hands across the smattering of hair across his belly.

Joel buries his face between your breasts, breathing you in and groaning against your skin, his hands grab your hips and push your body firmer against his half hard cock still clad in his sweatpants.

He’s fully dressed, your teensy pair of lace panties do very little to stop your cunt from dripping onto the light gray fabric of his sweatpants. Your hips begin to grind against the shape of him, begging for contact. He ruts his hips up to tap against your core pulling a moan from you.

He snickers teasingly, “We goin’ to third base already baby?”

You whimper a measly yes, rocking yourself harder against him. Fuck the pace of game, it’s going to be a quick one. You’re so needy for him, you can’t believe this is happening with Joel “hot dad” Miller. Your roommates are never going to believe you.

You reach for the hem of his shirt, bunching it up before he chucks it off and throws it across the couch. You lean back, eyes widening at the sight of him. Good LORD, he’s perfect. His skin glows in the late afternoon light beaming in from the front window. His shoulders and arms are toned from all of the manual labor you always watch him accomplish. Your hands roam his soft muscles, exploring the plains of his body. He’s the whole fucking package. He looks at you with a smug smirk while you take him in.

You want to taste him and see if he tastes like the sweat and sunlight. Your lips find his collarbone, licking and sucking, tasting the slight salt of the sweat the heat leaves on everybody’s skin on days like today. Delectable.

His throat groans against your tongue, he shivers underneath you, you’ve never wanted someone so badly before.

“Fuck me,” you plead against his skin, “please.”

“Not yet, not yet baby, we’re still at third, you’re still learning all about baseball. I need to enjoy a game as sweet as you,” he implores, sliding a hand between your legs and petting your soaked panties. “This all for me?”

“Yesss,” you hiss, licking your way up through his scratchy beard to his mouth.

You gasp against his lips when he slides a thick finger inside. He chuckles a deep breath against your mouth, “So fucking wet aren’t you pretty girl?”

Your only answer is a garbled moan and a clench around his second finger that stretches you.

His fingers languidly fuck you while his thumb teases soft circles against your clit, you’re writhing from his touch, breathing mews into the air. He licks into your mouth swallowing every shattered breath that escapes from your throat. So many nights you’ve fallen asleep to the thought of this moment laying alone in your bed, gazing out the window at the Miller household. What would Joel Miller’s overworked hands and plush mouth feel like against your body? Well, now you know, and it feels even better than you could have ever imagined.

He licks his way down to your neck, asking “Can I taste you?” against your skin.

“Yes,” you cry out.

Joel lifts you with a grunt and lays you down against the couch cushions. He stands over you, running a hand across your body, mapping his way from your breasts down your stomach to the trim of your panties.

“You’re gorgeous,” he muses, his eyes turning black as he pulls your panties down, exposing your pussy to him. You spread your legs open encouraged by the possessiveness of his stare. He tosses your underwear behind him before settling on the couch between your legs with a deep growl. Your legs are lifted over his shoulders. “Fuck,” he sighs, planting a kiss against your thigh, “you’re so fucking hot. Let’s get to third base sweetheart.”

His eyes flutter shut at the first taste of you when he parts your folds with his tongue. Everything about Joel Miller is wide- his fingers, his shoulders, his chest. Right now, his wide tongue is driving you crazy as it swirls against your clit. He devours you, licking and laving all over your drooling pussy, drinking you down and savoring you like you’re his last meal. His eyes stay on your face the whole time, watching you fall apart against his mouth. Your fingers wrap around the dark waves of his hair pulling him in closer, hips undulating against his mouth getting yourself off on the feel of the bristle of his beard against your sensitive flesh. His tongue flattens and runs up and down the shape of you before he dips two fingers into your entrance and buries them knuckles deep. Your back curves at the overwhelming sensation of his tongue on your clit as your soaked walls clench around his thick fingers.

“Mm, close,” you whimper while your feet thud repeatedly against his strong back. He nods against your core, dark brown eyes still focused on your face. Your heart races at the way he watches you under his thick eyebrows creased in concentration. Of course Joel Miller is good at eating pussy, he’s a hard worker. You wail his name out when you orgasm against his mouth, your body tightens as you flood his fingers and throb for him. He kisses your swollen clit gently, letting a deep moan and chuckle out while you spasm underneath him.

Joel’s face glistens with you when he lifts his head up, “Welcome to third base.”

“You haven’t gotten here yet,” you arch an eyebrow and lick your parted lips, still panting for air.

He kisses each thigh with a loud smack before getting up.

He looms over your blissed out body on the couch and yanks down his pants and boxers, a gulp rolls down your throat at the sight of him. So fucking thick and engorged with a sweet drop of precum rolling down his shaft.

“Wow,” you gasp, rolling to your side to bring yourself eye level to his twitching cock. Your eyebrows rise in awe when he wraps his hand around himself and strokes.

“Yeah?” his voice smolders through you.

“I’ve thought about what you looked like naked, and now that I see it… wow.” You can’t believe the confession just left your mouth.

“Funny,” he collects a drop of precum on his fingertip and rubs it against your bottom lip,” I thought the same thing.”

Your tongue darts out to taste him, salty, bitter, so fucking manly. You want to taste more of him.

You bring your lips to the crown of his cock, kissing the tip and running your tongue along the length of his shaft. He gasps, leaning forward to rest his hands on the sofa back.

“Fuck sweetheart, that’s good,” he drawls when you suck him into your mouth engulfing the thick length of him in the wet heat of your mouth.

You cup the heft of his balls in your hand… thick cock, big balls, of course Joel Miller has big balls.

“You’re good at this sweetheart, really fucking good,” he huffs, rubbing his thumb against your cheek as you hollow them and suck him to the back of your throat.

Your eyes flutter up to watch Joel snarl down at you while his hips buck into your drooling mouth.

“Can’t keep lookin’ at me like that sweetheart, or else we’re not going to get to homebase.”

Your pussy clenches at his words, begging to be filled like your mouth. It’s as if Joel can read your mind, his hand lands in between your thighs and begins petting your aching cunt.

“Feels like she needs to have my cock in her, doesn’t she?” he says, tapping his fingers against your entrance. “Think maybe we should get to homebase?”

He pulls his cock out of your mouth and lifts you off the couch into his arms, he’s so fucking strong.

He leaves a searing kiss on your lips before settling on the couch, still holding you close to him.

“You ready for homebase?” he asks, gazing into your eyes.

“Put me in coach, I’m ready to play,” you smile, giddy at the anticipation of getting fucked by Joel Miller.

“Go ahead sweetheart, fuck me,” his drawl drips in arousal as you slowly sink yourself down on him, gasping at the feel of his thick cock stretching you.

Your hips rock back and forth to adjust to the size of him spreading you open.

“Knew you’d feel so good sweetheart, knew it as soon as I saw you,” he says, peppering kisses across your face and neck. “So pretty, so soft, feels so fucking good.”

Joel Miller always seemed too intimidating, too closed off, too attractive to ever be interested in a neighbor much too young for him, and yet here he is ignoring the baseball game he wanted to watch, instead burying his cock into your pussy.

You ride him, your pace turning more frenzied and desperate the more he chants your name.

The ticks of the fan chains clanging against one another accompanies the sound of your pussy bouncing up and down on his dick. Hips meeting hips, skin hitting skin, breath gasping breath, chain knocking chain. Your fingers wrap around his curls pulling his head up to kiss you. Your breaths puff against his, you can’t hide the blissed out smile that lights up your whole face as he pounds into you.

Your body begins to tingle and quiver when his cock hits the gushy spot that makes you see stars.

“That’s it baby, that’s it,” Joel grits against your neck biting and sucking, marking you with his mouth and owning you with his cock.

You scream a choked sob when your orgasm lights through you, your walls clutch Joel’s cock as you come undone. He grips you harder, pushing you into his chest and holding you as close as he can with his tense muscles as he lifts you and pulls out painting your pussy lips with his cum. You collapse against him, gasping for air against his sweaty skin, darting your tongue out to lick some of the sweet salt so you can always remember the taste of playing ball with Joel Miller.

“Can I tell you something?” Joel asks, his voice radiates through your ear resting against his chest.

“Hmm? Yeah,” you sigh.

“My TV still works,” he sheepishly says. You sit up at the shock of his words. “I just really wanted to watch the game with a pretty girl.” He sends you a sultry, guilty smirk that you cover with your lips.

___ Tagging people who showed interest in my WIP a couple weeks ago for this. Along with my camp coven friends who helped.

@luxurychristmaspudding, @sizzlingcloudmentality, @sawymredfox, @magpiepills, @yxtkiwiyxt

@beefrobeefcal, @ace-turned-confused, @yopossum, @mothandpidgeon, @bitchesuntitled

@maggiemayhemnj, @jennaispunk, @timelordfreya

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #tlou joel #tlou fanfic #joel x reader #joel tlou

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becgenius · 4 months ago

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BIKER!SYLUS WHO...

!! street racing au, reader not mc, female reader, established relationship, petnames, reader has hair, smut, semi-public sex not rlly, size kink, m!receiving oral, dacryphilia, helmet stays on during sex, hair pulling kinda, cum swallowing, masturbation, lightly proofread, lowercase intended

wc. 1.5k

nsfw under the cut. minors dni.

biker!sylus who invites you to every one of his street races.

he says it's because you're good luck. it's really because the one thing he loves more than winning these races is seeing you proudly run up to congratulate him after doing so.

you both know he doesn't need 'good luck' to win; winning has always been a guarantee for him.

biker!sylus who gets you your own set of bike gear when you start dating.

your own pair of gloves, your own jackets, boots, helmets, body armor, balaclavas - you name it.

not to mention that he buys you multiple of each. a set in your favorite color, one in the color he loves seeing you wear, and one that matches his own gear.

biker!sylus who, nonetheless, thinks you look the best when wearing his gear.

biker!sylus who therefore loves to give you his leather jacket to watch his races. he wants everyone to know that you're his; that you’re there for him, and him only.

the cold air of the night nips at your cheeks as you stand watching the race. you're pretty sure there are five racers in total on the track, but everyone's focused on the two bikes practically leading the race.

you know that sylus is one of them. however you aren't sure if he's on the first or second bike. definitely the first, who were you kidding.

the fluorescence of the colorful traffic lights and blaring headlights contrasts sharply with the night's darkness and overwhelms your vision, and there’s the bass-boosted music from a nearby sports car clashing with the conversations of strangers and screech of tires against asphalt.

it seems that tonight's commentator - some guy with a megaphone - is also having a difficult time distinguishing the two leading racers. the sound is all distorted and you can only catch phrases at a time. you hear him refer to the racers as bike a and bike b. not helpful at all.

mentally scolding your past self for underdressing, you hug sylus's gifted jacket closer to your body and press your legs together as you stand among the crowd: your best attempt at preserving body heat. you're beginning to get annoyed with the loud audience around you and the way the wind is blowing strands of your hair into your glossed lips.

eventually, thankfully, one of the bikes ahead wins. you still haven't identified the driver; nevertheless, you approach the finish line… and so does what seems like every other person around you.

he sees you before you see him. you're about to call him but he catches your attention by a simple flash of his bike's headlights.

you see him leaning against his bike, stuffing a wad of cash into his jacket's inside pocket.

"there you are, dear. did you enjoy the race?" he removes his helmet, in turn revealing the sweaty, sticky mess of hair underneath, and holds his free hand out to you.

"sy! i almost lost you!" despite your outcry, you still manage to take his hand and allow him to help you onto the back of his bike.

"don't i always tell you to look for me wherever the winner is?" humble as always. but you can't blame him.

he slips the helmet he had just worn over your head and adjusts the chin strap. from your neck up, you're enveloped in the heat that was previously trapped inside the headgear. finally, he flips the visor down, and your vision tints black as your breath fogs up a spot on the glass.

biker!sylus who thinks it’s the cutest thing, seeing you perched atop his huge bike, wearing not only his helmet but also his jacket, both much too large on you.

biker!sylus who is more than happy to humor you when you tell him that you have a reward for him after winning a particularly close race.

biker!sylus who, after parking and turning his bike off in his private garage, stays put, because you told him to. he’s suspicious, curious, but never doubtful.

with the amount of vehicles parked within, it may as well be considered parking lot. fortunately, all you see are sylus’s insane collection of cars and bikes. no people in sight.

he's, again, leaned up against his bike, holding you upright as you press your chest against his and kiss him.

the kissing is deep and passionate and he loves it because he loves the feeling of your lips on his. but the kiss is also too short.

he is confused when you abruptly pull away from him wearing a sly grin. he's even more confused when you take the helmet from his bike seat and place it over his head, concealing his face.

"what's all this now, hm sweetie?" he asks.

biker!sylus whose eyes widen in both shock and understanding when you slowly lower yourself before him; not that you can see it though, from your tinted reflection in his helmet.

" 'm giving you your reward, of course."

biker!sylus who helps you undo his belt and shove his pants down enough to where you can comfortably hold his exposed erection in your hands.

he's dense and girthy, and it takes two of your hands to fully grasp him.

you look up, innocently smiling, to his concealed face as you kneel below him, soft cheek pressed against his hard dick before you slide his tip into your now open mouth.

he groans from above. loud. the helmet does nothing to muffle his noises, you learn.

"i love seeing this side of you, baby…" you feel his fingers run across the sides of your head, pulling hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail.

there's something that turns him on so much about seeing your seemingly innocent eyes gaze up at him while doing such a crude act as sucking his dick. he becomes impossibly harder inside your mouth.

you give him an agreeing hm in response, lips still surrounding his cock, and the vibrations send shivers down his spine.

tears run down your sore cheeks when you begin to pick up your pace. your jaw hurts from forcing it open so long and hollowing your cheeks for this amount of time has made them sensitive.

your head bobs itself efficiently up and down his length. you’re mindful of your teeth, and you use your tongue to swirl around his girth.

the only noises heard in sylus' garage were his moans, your gagging, as well as the squelching and slurping of you sucking him dry.

you don't notice that he releases your hair to wipe your fallen tears, and you gladly accept the attention. "such a good girl. you look so pretty sucking my cock like this."

his sweet, albeit vulgar, words were getting to you, and you feel yourself becoming more and more aroused.

so while your dominant hand is wrapped around sylus' dick, jerking off the length around his base that your mouth couldn't reach, your free hand slips down under your waistband and between your thighs to relieve your aching clit.

you continue sucking him off at that same pace, until he suddenly gets impatient. his hands find their way back to your head and guides it back and forth at a much faster pace.

at this point, you relax, fully allowing sylus to take control. your only focus is to keep your lips wrapped around his cock and to not choke; that, and your hand in your pants.

"fuck, princess, i'm gonna cum." he spits out in between pants. he flips his visor up to breathe in the fresh air and you notice that the screen's been completely fogged. "i want you to come too. think you do that for me?"

his head falls back after he sees your nod and a loud moan escapes from the back of his throat. your fingers move faster and press harder on your clit as you let sylus direct your head at whichever speed he pleases.

his cock twitches in your mouth, a telltale sign, before his hand on the back of your head stops moving and your mouth is suddenly filled with sylus's cum instead of his dick, which he pulls out with a pop.

you reach your own climax in seconds, eyes rolling and mouth hanging open as your fingers speed up and your cunt spasms around nothing.

sylus's cum is close to spilling out from the corners of your mouth as you fully take in your orgasm, but he stops it from doing so when he presses a gentle finger under your chin, sealing your lips and commanding an authoritative "swallow" that makes you do so without thinking twice.

he fully removes the helmet to catch his breath, chest dramatically heaving. you finally make eye contact with his dilated pupils.

he smirks at your dazed state, finding the whole situation amusing.

"who knew you had it in you?" he chuckles, shaking his head, "you're a naughtier girl than you look."

biker!sylus who wins street races, but only considers himself a winner as long as he has you to show him that he is!!!!!!

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augustinewrites · 1 year ago

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“let me take you to dinner tonight.”

you look up from the handful of tulips you’re binding with twine to meet reo’s expectant gaze.

“no.”

“come on,” he grins, taking the bouquet and placing it with the others. “we eat together all the time. in fact, we’ve already shared one morning coffee and one afternoon picnic. that’s basically two dates.”

“you mean the morning you brought me an overpriced coffee and the afternoon you almost fought a pigeon over french fries in front of my flowers?”

he doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with your statement, nodding fervently. “yeah. we’ve covered morning and afternoon. the next natural course of action is to have dinner together.”

he must read the hesitation in your expression, placing a hand over yours. electricity zips through your veins, but you don’t pull away.

“hey, no pressure. no expectations,” he tells you softly. “just think of it as dinner between friends.”

“can i at least think about it?”

“of course.” he checks his watch. “you have about ten hours to decide because i kind of already made a reservation.”

of course he did. because for all of your banter, he knows you could never say no to him.

“okay, fine, i’ll go out with you. but only because you’re cute when you beg.” you decide, rolling your eyes when he does a quick fist pump.

“i am cute, thank you. and i know i said to think of it as dinner between friends, but if at any point you feel the overwhelming urge to kiss me, you have my complete consent.”

“go to work, reo,” you laugh, gently pushing his shoulder.

“i’ll text you the details!”

_____

reo isn’t sure why he’s so nervous. he’s always been great at first dates– better than average, some might say. but something’s different this time around. maybe it’s the restaurant’s lighting, or maybe it’s the fact that it’s his first date with you.

he’d come a little early and ordered a bottle of wine, knee bouncing under the table as he scrolled through his phone in an attempt to chase his nerves away.

thankfully it’s not long before he spots the hostess leading you to the table (a few more minutes and he certainly would have spiraled). he’s quick to stand, walking around the table to greet you.

“hi,” he says, handing you a bouquet of roses before pulling your seat out for you.

“these are beautiful, thank you,” you say, reo beaming as you gingerly hug the blooms to your chest.

once you’re both seated, he sneaks a glance at you before opening his menu. you look a little nervous, restlessly shifting in your chair and shifting your gaze around the room.

“i’m sorry,” you blurt, curling in on yourself as if you’re embarrassed. “this place is– i probably should have googled it first. i’m so underdressed, i feel like everyone’s looking at me...”

“of course they’re all looking at you. you’re the prettiest person in the room.”

(and, oh man, the way you look at him when he says that…it was like being bathed in soft sunshine. he could sit there and bask in it all day.)

but you lift your menu to hide your bashful expression and reo reaches across the table to pour you a bottle of wine, just to give himself something to do with his hands.

“everything’s so expensive,” you murmur.

the restaurant he’d chosen was one he was familiar with, customary for business meetings. he supposed it was on the higher end of the price range, but it only added to his ability to impress.

money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy you a nice dinner and a pretty good bottle of wine.

“i asked you out, i’m paying.”

“we can just split it–”

“it’s fine,” he waves off. “but if you insist, you can just cover the next one.”

you look up from your menu, amused. “we just sat down and you’re already asking me on a second date?”

he meets your gaze, grinning. “can you blame me?”

_____

despite the initial shock you’d received upon entering the restaurant, you slowly feel yourself begun to loosen up. maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the fact that reo is…admittedly a really good date.

(not just because he’s nice to look at, in a nice shirt with the two topmost buttons undone and trousers that hug his rear perfectly)

as the night wears on, you tell him a bit about yourself. about the things you like to do in your free time, your pet at home, how you ended up running a flower stall in the concrete jungle of downtown tokyo. he listens intently when you talk, asking questions here and there to convey his interest.

though he mostly keeps the conversation focused on you, he tells you about himself too. he talks about the recreational league he plays with on the weekends and the roommate that’s been his best friend since high school. he even talks about the charity gala he’s going to next weekend, representing his family’s business (it’s legit, you can google it! he laughs).

you actually know of the gala he’s talking about. it’s an annual fundraiser, and the order they’d put in at the flower shop you used to work at was one of the most expensive you’d ever seen.

he insists on ordering dessert, the two of you sharing a piece of cheesecake as the night draws to a close. but before it does, you have to ask,

“why did you ask me out?”

he looks at you, seeming genuinely confused by your question. “what do you mean?”

you set your fork down, shrugging. “i’m not really your…type.”

“i have a type?”

“influencers, ceo’s daughters, models…” you say, to list a few.

“you did google me when i was in the bathroom,” he laughs. he doesn’t seem offended, just amused.

you did google him, which is how you know he’s had a string of high profile relationships - and eventual breakups.

“your last date,” you remember. “why didn’t you see her again?”

he takes another bite of the cheesecake, chewing thoughtfully before answering, “nothing was wrong with her. she just weren’t right for me.”

“but i am?”

he pauses, then answers confidently, “i think you might be, yeah.”

“is this the part where you tell me that we’re soulmates?” you tease, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours under the table. you’re trying to maintain a cool composure, but your heart is doing somersaults in your chest.

“no, because i’m a businessman,” he answers, nudging you back. “i believe in free will. when i see an opportunity, i just go for it. i’m not going wait for the universe to decide when i’ll get to be with my one true love.”

“so you believe in the human experience. subjective and objective choices. what about fate?”

“isn’t fate just a result of everyone’s choices? something inevitable, unavoidable.”

“description’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” you counter. “think of it this way, i chose to set up my stall outside the restaurant, but it was fate that you were heading into it that night, which led to me being in this moment with you.”

“one could argue that was just coincidence,” he points out.

“you could. but maybe it was serendipity.”

“now you’re just making up words,” he laughs, prompting you to throw your napkin at him.

then he leans his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers and resting his chin atop them. “to put it simply— i am here right now. it wasn’t some inevitable thing because i chose to be here. with you.”

influencers, ceo’s daughters, models. he could be with anyone else in japan, but he chose to be here with you. at the beginning of the night, you weren’t really sure what to expect from him, judging from your brief encounters at your flower stall. you’d known he was decently charming, sure, but tonight you’re getting the full picture.

and the way he looks at you now…it was like you hung the moon and stars.

“i like when you say it like that,” you admit, feeling heat bloom across your cheeks.

“the philosophy course i took in university is paying off then.”

you’re about to do something completely stupid like kiss him when you realize just how quiet it is in the restaurant. you’d been so distracted, so enamoured with the man in front of you that everything else had blurred into the background.

you lean back to look around. it’s completely empty, save for the waitstaff and hostess.

“did we stay past closing?” you frown, wondering how you’d lost track of time.

“it’s fine,” he assures you, reaching across the table to place a hand over yours. “i told you i made a reservation.”

“for the entire restaurant?!”

again, he doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with your statement. “what did you think i meant?”

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #blue lock fluff #it's the flower shop au

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joelmillerisapunk · 7 months ago

Text

Beach Daddy I. Unexpected Encounters

Rich daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Wordcount: 5,849

Summary: You find yourself on a luxurious yacht, invited by your old roommate Sarah, only to discover that her new boyfriend is none other than your very recent ex. Feeling out of place and overwhelmed, you take solace in the kindness of Reggie, Joel's intern, who helps you navigate the ship and offers a sympathetic ear.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of cheating, reader has hair and wears a dress, you meet Joel, there's a few random oc's thrown in

Notes: Hi, I hope you enjoy 🥰 if you're feeling saucy after comments and reblogs and thoughts are always welcome! Ty @saradika-graphics for the dividers

As soon as the soles of your worn-out converse hit the wood of the dock, you know you're underdressed. Your old roommate, Sarah, has invited you to spend a few weeks on her father's boat. But as you approach the enormous white yacht docked at the end of the pier, you realize this is no ordinary boat. The yacht's sides are lined with three stories of windows, reflecting the ocean's crystal clear water.

From where you're standing, you can make out a double staircase leading to an upper deck with a circular swimming pool large enough to land a helicopter in. Men and women in matching black and white uniforms pace the decks, preparing the ship to leave the marina.

When Sarah invited you, you had no idea the vacation would be so extravagant. If you had known, you would have packed something nicer than your department store shorts and tank tops. Truthfully, you don't own anything that would make you feel undressed on a yacht that likely costs more than a private island.

"Wow," you say to yourself.

"What was that, miss? Is there something I can help you with?" The driver asks you.

"Oh, sorry, no, I’m fine. Thank you, though," you answer sheepishly.

"Don’t worry about your bags, miss. Someone from the ship will be down shortly to get them and take them to your room."

Sarah sent a Cadillac to the airport to bring you to the private dock her father owns. You appreciate the gesture more than she knows because even though you accepted her vacation invitation, you're on a very tight budget. Splurging for a taxi from the airport to the Florida coast would have left you choosing between buying textbooks or food when your next semester starts.

This vacation marks the beginning of a massive change in your life. After graduating with your Master’s Degree from NYU, you got accepted into Harvard Law School. You'll be moving out of New York City at the end of the summer and getting a new start.

You worked at a hole-in-the-wall bar to pay your tuition and barely scraped together rent each month from your tips. You lived in an apartment that you shared with your two roommates, Lin and Aubrey. You're not renewing your lease on that dilapidated and overpriced apartment, and the thought of finally getting to quit your job is a fantastic feeling.

After all of the excitement of opening your acceptance letter from Harvard, you notice a shift in the one person you thought would remain your constant through all of the change. That person is Todd, your boyfriend of two years. He dumped you with no explanation the night before graduation.

So when you receive a text from Sarah inviting you on a vacation, you accept without hesitation. You're still hurting from the breakup and wanting to be anywhere other than New York.

"Miss?" A woman in a white polo and black knee-length skirt asks you.

"Uh, yes."

"If you will follow me. Miss Miller is waiting for you."

"Of course," you say with a small smile. It's typical that Sarah would send someone to get you rather than meet you at the dock herself, but you ignore it. You're on a once-in-a-lifetime vacation, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it.

As you reach the deck with the swimming pool, you hear a high-pitched version of your name being yelled and you instantly remember why Sarah and you are friends. She has a way of making you feel special.

Sarah is lounging on a deck chair in a glamorous white bikini with a blue chiffon kimono. As she stands to greet you, you're surprised she's wearing high heels. You thought women only did that on the runway–or maybe in certain kinds of movies....

"Sarah! It is so good to see you. You look amazing, by the way." You're not surprised to see that Sarah already has a pink fruity drink in her hand.

"Oh, thanks. Daddy bought me a new yacht wardrobe while we were in Paris. Isn't this bikini just to die for?" She asks.

"It really is." You smile with your response.

"You look cute too. You’re always dressed like you're in a Gap advertisement."

Your smile almost falters, but you catch it before Sarah notices. You had almost forgotten how Sarah can make you feel special one moment and two feet tall the next.

"The yacht is gorgeous. I had no idea what to expect; I’ve never been on a boat like this before." You admit while brushing off Sarah's previous comment.

"I figured this would be a big treat for you. It’s a shame most of my other friends have a fashion show in London. Anyway, I am glad you could make it."

"I'm glad I could make it too," you say, still trying to maintain your smile.

Sarah snaps her fingers at a young man cleaning the pool while wearing a uniform that indicates he is part of the yacht’s staff. He immediately stops what he's doing, brings over a second pink drink, and hands it to you.

"Thank you so much," you say to him with a sympathetic smile. You take a small sip and are sure you will be having many more of these; it's delicious. The pineapple juice perfectly complements the rum.

"Good, right? It’s a Caribbean rum punch." Sarah says, clearly watching the enjoyment on your face.

"It’s really good. I’ve made these for customers before, but I haven’t had the chance to try one."

"Oh, you still work at that little dive bar?" Sarah asks, but she is clearly uninterested and does not intend to wait for your answer. "You are going to love the yacht," she continues without skipping a beat. "Daddy bought it last year; it is much better than his old one. You and I will be on the second floor, right off this deck, with the pool. Daddy is on the third floor in the main suite. He has a whole deck to himself, but each of our rooms has its own balcony."

You had not had a room to yourself in six years. In your apartment, all three of you shared one bedroom because you couldn’t possibly afford anything bigger. The thought of a room and a balcony all to yourself feels almost too good to be true.

"That sounds amazing, Sarah. I can not begin to thank you enough for inviting me. You have no idea how badly I needed this. I just went through the worst break -"

Sarah cuts you off before you can finish.

"Daddy keeps to himself. He says he has work to do or something like that. So most of the time, we will have the ship to ourselves. It's going to be the biggest party. Daddy even hired a DJ as part of the staff after I begged him."

"Who is us?" You ask wondering how many people she has invited.

"You, me, my boyfriend, and a few other friends. Everyone else will be coming a bit later. They’re taking Megan's private jet, so they'll get in just before we set sail.”

Part of you is nervous to meet the rest of Sarah’s friends. People who have their own private jets are not your usual crowd. However, you feel a bit relieved that there will be other people to entertain Sarah so you can find some time for yourself to relax. Sarah is the type of person who can party for hours on end. She always has to go to one more party, one more bar, or one more club before calling it a night.

“Maybe don’t mention to the others that you could only afford to fly commercial. If you do, at least lie and say you flew first class.”

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend Sarah,” you say, purposely trying to change the subject. “How long have you been seeing him?” Sarah must have changed more than you realized, because in the past she never would have settled for one man. Sarah knows this and flaunts it. She has a line of guys wanting to date her and she likes it that way.

“We have been seeing each other for four months now. He is absolutely amazing. You are going to love him. Plus he's super hot!” She gushes.

“Well, I can’t wait to meet him,” you say with a bit of a laugh.

“You will soon, he just went to our rooms to get his sunglasses. Oh, here he comes now,” Sarah says with a huge smile lighting up her face.

He walks out onto the deck, wraps an arm around Sarah’s waist, and pulls her in for a kiss. Then he turns to you as though you had never met.

“Hey, I’m Todd.”

“Todd?” you say, completely dumbfounded by the fact that your very recent ex-boyfriend is standing in front of you with his arm around Sarah.

“Yea, I’m Sarah's boyfriend. She told me one of her old roommates would be joining us.”

“Um, yea.” You respond awkwardly. At first, you don’t understand why Todd would act like he doesn’t know you, but then a lump forms in your throat. Sarah says they have been together for four months.

“Hey, you should go get changed, and we can all go up to dinner together. We're eating on the rooftop deck tonight.” Sarah says, completely missing the strangeness of your interaction with Todd. She snaps her fingers again at another member of the yacht staff. “Will you show her to her room?”

“Of course. If you will follow me,” the woman says and starts walking towards the double doors leading into the ship.

You glance back at Todd and Sarah and quickly wish you hadn’t. Todd is kissing her again, and then he winks at you as his hand starts sliding down her back. You turn away quickly before you have to see where his hand lands.

“You are in the first room to the right.”

“Thank you so much-” you pause.

“Molly.”

“Thank you so much, Molly. Also, I'm sorry about the snapping. I work as a bartender and always hate when people snap to get my attention.”

Molly smiles genuinely at you after your comment. “Thank you, but we are all used to Sarah and her ways. There is an intercom in your room. If you need anything, just press the button, and someone downstairs will respond.”

You nod and open the door to your room, but room is an understatement. The size and luxury of the room are unlike anything you have ever experienced. The main room houses a king-size bed covered in a white silk comforter. There is also a lounge area with two modern black leather sofas. And your suitcase is already waiting for you on an ottoman at the foot of the bed.

You sigh and throw yourself onto the bed face down in the comforter. It seems like a bad dream that Todd is here, pretending he doesn’t know you, let alone date you for two years.

You were comfortable, and your relationship was secure, or so you thought. It started with little things, like Todd bailing on plans you'd made and how he stopped inviting you to spend any time at his place.

Aubrey was always suspicious of Todd, but you never questioned him. Because you knew, deep down, he was cheating on you, but you went on pretending because it was easier than losing him. You didn’t have to pretend for very long because he dumped you the day before graduation.

You cried for hours on the living room couch as Lin and Aubrey comforted you and supplied you with all the ice cream you could eat. You picked yourself up the morning of graduation and packed away your pain. You would not let Todd, or anyone else, see you beaten; you thought maybe that would make you a good lawyer one day.

You walked across that stage and accepted your diploma with a giant smile on your face because you truly earned it and right after the ceremony, you let yourself fall into misery again.

And now he's dating Sarah.

Sarah had said that they’d started dating four months ago, which meant that Todd was definitely cheating on you. It was just hard to believe that he cheated on you with one of your friends.

Sure, Sarah and you fell in and out of touch as your lives drifted apart, but it still made the betrayal hurt more.

During college, you were very different people. Sarah attended NYU for the party life and never missed an opportunity to go out and have fun. You spent most of your time studying to ensure you didn’t lose your scholarship. Even though you had your differences, you got along for the most part, and while you were living together, you became close friends.

You allow yourself a few more moments of self-pity before pulling yourself off of the bed. You didn't let Todd see you beat at graduation, and you aren't going to let him see it now.

You make your way to your suitcase and roll it into the connecting ensuite. As you walk through the double doors of the ensuite, you are shocked again by the sheer size of the yacht. You take your time unpacking each item of clothing and hanging it in the closet. You pick out a black knee-length dress, which is the nicest thing you have brought, and change into it.

Just as you finish touching up your makeup, you hear the click of the door latch opening.

“Hey, are you ready? Everyone else is here, and we are all heading up to eat,” Sarah says while she bursts into the room without bothering to knock.

“Yeah. Perfect timing. I just finished.” You walk out of the ensuite and see her standing in a floor-length dress made of silvery fabric. She takes one quick look at you outfit and says nothing, obviously unimpressed by your simple choice. You follow her out into the hallway, where three women and four men in black tie attire talk among themselves.

Sarah makes quick introductions, but the only name you catch is that of the tall brunette woman, Megan, the one with the private jet. Your hands are already starting to sweat, and you're honestly grateful that most of the other guests ignore your presence as waiters bring plate after plate of food and set it in front of each of you.

“Megan, how was the flight here?” Sarah asks.

"Oh, it's the worst. My mom has to take the big jet to Japan for a business conference, so I'm stuck with the little jet. Hudson nearly hit his head on the ceiling because it's so small." Megan throws a seductive look at the tall man with blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Well, I'm sure you didn't have the worst flight. She had to fly commercial," Sarah says, gesturing towards you.

"You poor thing. I've never flown commercial, but I hear it's horrible. Do you really have to sit next to strangers?"

"Yeah, you do, but not in first class." You say remembering that Sarah had told you to say you flew first class even though you didn't.

It's typical of Sarah to throw you under scrutiny when you had planned to avoid talking about how you got here or anything else to do with money, for that matter. Luckily, the one dig at you seems to be enough for Sarah because she gets distracted by Todd.

"You are the sexiest woman I have ever met," Todd says as he runs his hand up Sarah's arm.

"You two are the absolute cutest," the woman sitting on your right says.

"Oh, I know, right? It's so fun that we are equally numbered men to women," Megan says, throwing another look at Hudson, who seems completely clueless.

You eat your meal in silence and try your best not to watch Sarah and Todd. However, it's hard to ignore the fact that Todd has abandoned his meal and is instead licking Sarah's neck. She laughs, runs her fingers into his mess of brown curls, and pulls his face to hers.

You make it all the way to dessert before you can't take it anymore and quietly slip away from the table. Of course, no one sees you leave; if they did, no one cares.

As the door closes behind you, a few tears start streaming down your face. You have to get back to your room before anyone finds you crying. You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks and do your best to keep any more from falling.

The day's events have finally hit you in full force. You're angry and hurt that Todd has been cheating on you the whole time, and now you have to spend your vacation watching him and Sarah together.

You're so distracted in your thoughts that you run straight into a rock-solid chest.

You had hoped you just ran into one of the yacht's staff members, but you quickly realize the man is not wearing the uniform. All you can see is a suit jacket. You pull back and continue to try to hold back your tears.

"I am so sorry; I should have been watching where I was going," you say while trying to plan your escape.

When you look up at who you ran into, you're met with the most beautiful brown eyes you've ever seen.

"Are you okay, Miss?”

—♡—

Joel is walking down the hallway on his way to the upper deck when he hears a loud burst of laughter. He sighs in frustration; this was supposed to be a quiet escape from work, yet his yacht is full of a bunch of twenty-year-olds.

He had invited Sarah, as a way to spend a bit of time together this summer. Then Sarah asked if she could bring her new boyfriend along, and he agreed without much thought.

Joel met Todd earlier in the week over breakfast, and he seemed like a good kid. He works in finance for his father’s financial firm in New York, so they immediately have so much to talk about.

He is very complimentary of Joel's recent purchase of Explore Air, the second airline that he now owns. It truly is a good purchase, and he has big plans for expansion.

Joel is impressed that Sarah has picked someone who is putting down roots, and he seems like a stable choice. Sarah has never introduced him to a boyfriend before, so he is taking their relationship seriously.

Having her boyfriend join them would be an easy way for him to get to know him better and also give Joel a little more time for himself, which is probably a little selfish. It’s not that he doesn’t love his daughter; he finds it difficult spending time with his daughter; they aren’t very close. He had only found out she existed fourteen years ago, and trying to connect with a ten-year-old with whom he has nothing in common has not been easy.

It doesn’t help that he has bought her everything she could possibly ask for–for the last fourteen years. In the beginning, he did it to make up for missing the first ten years of her life, but after that, it just became easier than dealing with her when she didn’t get what she wanted.

Sarah is now a spoiled and entitled twenty-four-year-old with no plans for her life other than partying and spending as much money as possible.

In classic Sarah fashion, his agreement to let her bring her boyfriend along turned into her filling each one of his guest rooms with her rich and arrogant friends. Sarah also hired a DJ against his wishes, but after a hysterical outburst where she accused him of not loving her, she got her way, just like always. So his quiet and relaxing vacation with his daughter quickly turned into him hosting a summer-long party.

Before he heads to his stateroom, he figures he better play the welcoming host and go up to greet Sarah and her friends. As Joel turns a corner, he bumps into someone. The woman has her head down, so all he can see is her hair.

“I am so sorry; I should have been watching where I was going,” the woman says.

When her eyes finally meet Joel’s, he is surprised it looks like she is fighting tears.

“Are you okay, miss?” Joel says in response. He feels dumb as soon as the words are out of his mouth. She, very obviously, is not okay.

“Yes. I’m just heading back to my room, uh, sir,” she says as she straightens up, obviously not wanting to be caught crying.

“Oh right,” Joel replies, suddenly realizing that she called him sir, so she must be one of the maids.

He starts picking through his memories, trying to remember when he’d hired her. Reggie must have been the one to interview her because he surely would have remembered a woman so captivating.

“Before you do that, would you head up to my stateroom and unpack my luggage? I'm afraid it's been delivered later than usual. Had some business I had to attend to before leaving port, and I didn't get here as early as I would have liked.”

“Oh - I am - Uh -” she starts staring at the floor.

Joel stands waiting for her response. He thinks it is cute how flustered she is; perhaps it's because he makes her nervous. That's pretty common with new hires, but oddly, she makes him feel a bit flustered, which is completely uncommon.

“Yes,” she stammers.

“Thank you so much -” he says with a smile, leaving a pause in hopes that she would tell him her name, but she quickly turns and heads in the opposite direction. He can't help but stare as she walks away. As she slips around a corner and out of sight, he sighs, knowing he needs to make an appearance upstairs.

Joel walks out onto the deck, where a large dining table is placed and decorated with an extravagant centerpiece. The stars reflect over the ocean and create a stunning backdrop for his daughter's dinner party. He is really impressed at how well the staff has done at transforming this space, most likely with very particular instructions from Sarah.

“Daddy!” Sarah screams as he makes his way out onto the deck. She screams a lot, but he notices most girls her age do. Thankfully it looks as though their dinner party is just wrapping up; waiters are clearing away everything from the table.

Sarah runs over and hugs him.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he says kissing the top of her head. “Is everything goin' alright?”

“Everything has gone perfectly so far. The yacht is so awesome; I think my friends could die out of jealousy.”

Joel remains silent, not knowing how to respond to Sarah's need to be the envy of other people. He would leave figuring that out to her mother, Marnie. They hardly speak other than when she needs money from him, which is more often than he'd like.

“Good evening, Mr. Miller,” Todd says as he makes his way over and shakes Joel's hand.

“S'good to see you again, Todd.”

“Likewise. I’d like to discuss a real estate investment I'm working on for a client when you have the time. I would love to get your opinion.”

“Of course. We can talk about it tomorrow night over some drinks.”

“I look forward to it, Mr. Miller.”

Joel continues to greet Sarah's friends and make small talk for as long as he can manage. He makes his exit by lifting a glass of champagne in the air and toasting, “To an amazing summer.”

Sarah's friends echo his toast, followed by cheering and chatting amongst themselves. Joel slips out and heads over to a hidden elevator, which goes up one more floor where his room and private deck are located. He really hopes that the group makes their way to their rooms soon. He's exhausted and can not wait to slip into sleep.

He opens the double doors to his room and is slightly disappointed that the maid he met earlier was already gone. His suitcase was missing from where he left it, so she must have come and gone while he was greeting my guests.

He immediately makes his way to the bar cart and pours himself a glass of whiskey taking a long sip of his drink, he can't stop his mind from wandering back to the maid he ran into. It’d been a long time since someone had caught his attention as she did. She did seem much younger than him, though. He wasn’t sure that would be a problem.

He walks over to the screen mounted on the wall next to the door, and at the press of a button, the wall of windows at the far end of the room slid open, eliminating the barrier between his living room and private deck. That feature was one of the main reasons he purchased this particular yacht. He thought there would be nothing better than feeling the ocean breeze and hearing the waves even while hiding away in his stateroom.

He steps onto his deck and could see the dinner party continuing without him one deck below. The muffled sounds of conversation and laughing are the only sound drifting up to him.

Joel sips his drink and watches the white foamy waves follow the yacht as they move through the water. It's the only way he can tell they're moving as the sky darkens to a deep blue. He sits back, relaxing, and imagines the woman's eyes staring back at him.

—♡—

“Are you okay, miss?” the attractive man asks after you run directly into him.

“Yes. I’m just heading back to my room, uh, sir,” you respond.

“Oh, right,” he says, lost in thought. He pauses for a few seconds and then continues.

You stumble over your words, mortified that he clearly thinks you are a member of the staff rather than a guest on the yacht. However, you suppose you look nothing like the typical guests.

“Yes,” you finally say, deciding it is easier than trying to explain the mix-up. He thanks you and continues standing there, staring at you, making sure you are actually going to go unpack for him.

You quickly turn and head back down the long hallway. You must be headed in the right direction because the man does not tell you otherwise. Unfortunately, this is leading you in the opposite direction of your room.

You take a few turns, trying not to accidentally run into the man again and have to explain that you don’t work for him. You should have just told him from the start, but he startled you, and you got a bit distracted staring at his face.

He has a very nice face and a very nice body, and you can’t stop thinking about him. It isn’t too long before you are completely turned around; the ship is so outlandishly large.

Exhausted and embarrassed, you find a small alcove off of the main hallway, lean your back against the wall, and slide to the floor. You just need a minute to yourself to get control of your emotions, but a door opens next to you and cuts that time short.

You jump to your feet and smooth your hands over your dress.

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve met,” the man says. He is very clean-cut, with smooth black hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. You guess that he isn’t much older than you are.

“I’m a friend of Sarah’s,” you introduce yourself, not wanting to get mistaken for part of the staff again.

“Oh, wonderful. I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” he says with a genuine smile. You feel at ease in his presence, happy to have finally found someone who isn’t already judging you.

“I am, but I may need some help. I ran into someone down the hall, who mistook me for one of the maids and asked me to unpack for him. I don’t want anyone to get into trouble if it doesn’t get done,” you say, slightly embarrassed. “Can you help me?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that happened to you. Do you know who it was?”

“Uh, it was a man wearing a very nice suit - but that probably doesn’t narrow it down much.”

“Not exactly,” he says with a sympathetic grin.

“He was tall with dark brown hair that perfectly complements his brown eyes. He had a concrete jaw that was peppered with black and silver facial hair. His voice was deep, had a southern accent, and he smelled like sandalwood,” you say, picturing the man in your head.

After a few moments, you realize you’ve said way too much. If you could have jumped off the railing and into the ocean, you would have.

“That is Mr. Miller,” he says quickly, saving you from further embarrassment. “I am his intern, so I can make sure someone goes and takes care of his luggage.”

Did he say… Mr. Miller? As in, Sarah’s dad?

“Thank you so much,” you say. “You will have to forgive me. It’s been a long night, and I’ve been so rude and haven’t asked your name.”

“You can call me Reggie.”

“Well, thank you so much, Reggie. Can I ask you for one more favor?”

“Of course,” Reggie says with his signature smile.

“I got a little turned around after leaving the dinner party upstairs, and I’m not sure how to get back to my room.”

“It would be my pleasure to escort you back to your stateroom, Miss,” he says and offers you his arm.

“Thank you so much,” you say as you take his arm, absolutely delighted by the gesture.

Reggie is leading the way back to your room when he says, “Please don’t hold it against Mr. Miller for mistaking you for part of the staff. He has been under a lot of stress lately and passed the hiring off to me. Since you weren’t at the dinner party, it’s likely he just figured that you were a new hire. He really is a kind person and would have never intentionally offended you.”

“He didn’t offend me. I know I don’t fit with Sarah’s other friends, so it was an easy mistake to make. I could have straightened everything out, but I was a little distracted by some personal issues.”

“Do you need to vent?” Reggie asks innocently.

“It’s just that I went through a really difficult breakup, and I hoped this trip would help me get my mind off of him. It hasn’t worked out that way,” you say, trying to remain as vague as possible.

“I’m very sorry. Was it a long relationship?”

“Two years.”

“Ouch. Well, just give it a bit more time. With what Miss Miller has scheduled, I’m sure you will have plenty of distractions to keep your mind off of things.”

You laugh. “I’m sure you’re right. There is never a dull moment with Sarah around.”

Just as your conversation wraps up, you reach your door. You are so relieved to be back in your room that you could have hugged Reggie. You feel like you could talk to him about anything, and it helps you to feel as though there is at least one person on this ship who has not immediately judged you.

“Thank you so much for all of your help, Reggie. I don’t know what I would have done had I not run into you.”

“I’m here to help anytime. That goes for all of the staff on the yacht. If you need anything at all, just ask.”

You nod as Reggie walks away, and you slip into your room.I You head straight to the bathroom for that giant tub you discovered earlier. You have never been so in need of washing away the events of a day before.

You soak for almost an hour when the water starts getting cold, you reluctantly pull yourself out and wrap yourself in a fluffy bath towel.

You change into your pajamas, a pair of gray shorts, and a Harvard T-shirt. Your grandfather sent you the T-shirt as soon as you told him you’d been accepted; he was so proud.

You pull out your phone to send him a quick text telling him that you are okay. You should have sent it as soon as you arrived, but you forget in the chaos of seeing Todd with his arm around Sarah's waist.

You type out a quick message reading, "Hi Gramps. I made it safe. I will keep you updated. Love you." When you go to hit send, you realize you have no service. So not only would you not be able to contact your grandpa, but you can't update Lin and Aubrey about this horrible situation you are in. You sigh in defeat and toss your phone onto the bed.

Instead of talking with your friends, you use the intercom system in your room to call down for a cup of chamomile tea. You are shocked at how quickly there is a knock at your door. You take the tray and make your way out onto your private balcony.

The balcony is large enough to fit a lounge chair and a small breakfast table. You quickly make plans to put that to use in the morning. It would be amazing to sip your coffee and listen to the sound of the ocean.

You take a seat on the lounge chair and place your tray in front of you. A tiny teapot and matching cup are accompanied by a small plate of macaron cookies. You pour yourself a cup of tea and bite into one of the pink, dainty cookies.

You can't help thinking that this vacation would be perfect if you could spend the whole time in this room. Unfortunately, you would have to come out eventually and face Todd. You could have told Sarah the truth about Todd being your ex, but now that you are sailing, you have no escape.

It would have made the rest of the vacation unbearably awkward if you'd told Sarah. You have to keep this secret, at least until you are all back on land. A flash of shame hits you when you remember the other secret you would have to keep from Sarah.

The fact that you are undeniably attracted to her dad.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

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lovedrruunk · 8 months ago

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It would be so cool if you could write a venture x reader where Y/N is too nervous to speak to Venture so Mercy wingmans for them‼️

‘The best wingwoman ! ଘ(˵╹ᴗ╹)━☆

Venture (Overwatch) x GN reader

Authors note!; super cute request!!! Did I tell u guys I'm a mercy main…. DISGUSTING I KNOW!! But I also main Ana so it cancels out… also tbh there’s a lot of requests that I haven’t gotten to *YET* simply bc idk how to go about them :( but this one came to me rlly easily !! Ty!!! also finished this whole thing while listening to phantom of the opera on repeat for 2 hours (i need 2 write a moira fic omg...) UPDATE: HELLO??? THE MERCY MYTHIC? okok ill stfu now sry!!

Earlier today, you were dragged to a work party by your colleague and guardian angel, Angela Ziegler. You begged her to let you stay home, but she refused, saying she wouldn't be able to go without you since you were the only coworker she actually enjoyed spending time with. And so, being the amazing friend you are, of course, you agreed to go to keep her company!... Just kidding!

Angela knew you too well. Once she mentioned that the cutie from the Wayfinder Society was attending, you did a complete 180, now asking her what you should wear. She couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, amused at how predictable you were when it came to romance.

Sloane Cameron, also known as Venture, also known as the cutie from the Wayfinder Society, had quickly captured your attention ever since you first met them a couple of months ago when the Wayfinder Society was adopted by Overwatch as a sub-branch. Being the head anthropologist for Overwatch led you to spending a good amount of time with Venture and their team. Granted, it was just work and sharing data and all that, but you couldn't help but find them super intriguing. They were funny, lively, and so passionate about their work! But as badly as you wanted to get to know them, you just couldn't. Their confidence was a blessing and a curse, being the cause of why you liked them and the cause of why you were so terrified of talking to them.

Every week or so, you and Angela meet up at the cafeteria at Overwatch's headquarters to catch up while drinking your morning coffee/tea/whatever, which you of course just use as time to gush about your overwhelming crush on your new coworker. But last week... last week, you had decided enough was enough. You made a promise to Angela that by next week, you would at least ask them if they'd want to hang out outside of work. Feeling pumped and confident, you had excitedly gotten all dolled up for the party.

And now, here you were. The party was in an old Victorian mansion with lots of expensive art and chandeliers, nothing less for Overwatch, of course. The first time you had attended a work party, you were extremely underdressed, assuming it was a casual get-together, not at all expecting it to be an elegant and serious "ball" like party. You cringed at the memory before Angela snapped you out of it, handing you a glass of champagne.

"So? Is today the day?" she questions as she leans against the back wall you had been standing next to.

"I don't know, Angela..." you whined as you not so discreetly stared at them from across the room.

It was the first time you had seen them in formal attire, and you couldn’t help but admire how they looked good in everything.

"Go ask them to dance!" She suggested happily.

"What!? No way! I can't dance, especially not with them!"

“Oh, don't give me that! The worst they could say is no."

"'No' is definitely not the worst they could say. They could say 'get away from me' or 'why are you talking to me about something other than rocks' or 'your foundation doesn't match your neck.. and no I would rather drop dead than dance with you'."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious!- Wait!! Did you see that? They smiled at the new rookie! What if they like her!? What if they came here together!? What if they're dating!? Married!!? Oh my god, and now they're chatting it up with Tiff from communications! They're laughing, what's so funny!?"

"You have got to be kidding me..."

"Right!? She's not even funnier than me..."

Catching you off guard, Angela grips your shoulders, forcing you to face her.

"Shut up," she says sternly, fighting off the urge to smack you in the face. "Just ask them. You'll never know until you do... And if you don't, I owe that infuriating geneticist twenty bucks..." She murmurs the last part to herself angrily.

"Y'know what? You're right!"

You quickly finish the glass of champagne, putting it on the table next to you. Feeling encouraged by your friend, you take a deep breath before marching towards Venture... right before turning your heel and marching straight back to Angela.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up..."

"You haven't even said anything!!!"

After a bit of back and forth, Angela is fed up and tells you that if you weren't going to do anything about it, then she will.

As she makes her way towards Venture, you whisper yell at her, begging her to come back and let you give it another try. But knowing you, she decides to ignore your desperate pleas as she continues to happily strut towards them.

From the distance, you can't make out what they're talking about, and it's driving you nuts. Angela's back is facing you, but Venture's face lights up, so you decide to take that as a good sign. And just as you start to smile... Angela turns around and points at you.

You freeze in place for what felt like a year before your eyes focus again. Venture is grinning as they wave to you, and Angela uses her hand to call you over. You force a wide smile (not aware of how crazy you look) as you timidly walk up to the two of them.

"Y/N! I was just mentioning to our sweet Cameron over here how you love to dance! They've never been to a party like this, isn't that crazy!"

"Yeah!! Wayfinder never had the funding by itself to afford something like this! I've never really had a reason to learn how to dance, so I have no clue; was hoping you could teach me!?"

"Me? Oh, sorry! I don't know how to dance!"

"But... Dr. Ziegler just said.."

"I know! Poor little Angie... ever since her last birthday, her memory has been terrible!! Must've confused me with Lena!"

You could feel the death glare Angela was giving you, but you continued to smile innocently at them.

"Well... I guess this would be a good opportunity for us to learn, don't ‘cha think?" Of course. Of course, they would somehow find a solution to your excuse.

"Great idea!!" Angela claps her hands together happily. "Why don't you two head to the dance floor? You'll only learn from experience!"

"I agree!"

Before you can say anything, you're dragged by the hand of a very excited Venture, and although your palms are sweaty and your head is spinning, you can't help but feel so much excitement.

. . .

And so as the dancefloor clears and the two of you are making your way out to the gardens, you spot a grinning Angela and a scowling Moira putting away her wallet.

#venture overwatch #overwatch x reader #venture x reader #moira mention bc i love her #MERCY MYTHIC IS CRAZY #Moicy 4eva idc

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shitsndgiggs · 4 months ago

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YN is a small town girl who met Kenan by chance and is now dating him. He brings her to Istanbul to meet his teammates but when she sees how beautiful the other WAGS are and how beautiful Turkish women and models are, she can't help but think that she isn't good and pretty enough because in her eyes, she is a nobody. But Kenan won't allow his pretty girl to have a single bad thought in her mind.

YOU BELONG WITH ME - KENAN YILDIZ

When you feel out of place amidst beautiful women, Kenan is always there to let you know your worth

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I never imagined that my life would change so dramatically. Growing up in a small town, my world was simple and predictable.

Meeting Kenan was like a whirlwind that lifted me from my ordinary life into something extraordinary.

It felt like a fairytale, but now, as I stood in the bustling city of Istanbul, I couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that I didn’t belong.

Kenan had invited me to meet his turkish teammates and their significant others at a posh rooftop lounge. It was a beautiful evening, and the city lights twinkled like stars. Yet, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being out of place.

The women here were stunning—tall, elegant, and dressed in designer outfits that looked straight off the runway. They exuded confidence, and I felt like a plain, small-town girl in comparison.

Kenan, sensing my unease, gently squeezed my hand. "You okay, love?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

I forced a smile, trying to hide my insecurities. "Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed."

We made our way through the crowd, and Kenan introduced me to his teammates and their partners. Everyone was friendly, but I couldn't help but feel like I was underdressed and out of place.

I found myself comparing my simple dress to their glamorous attire, and the more I did, the smaller I felt.

We eventually found a quiet corner where we could sit down. Kenan's arm was draped protectively around my shoulders, but my mind was racing with doubts.

I tried to join the conversations, but my self-consciousness held me back.

When Kenan excused himself to speak with one of his teammates, I was left alone, nursing my drink and fighting back tears.

I overheard a few women discussing their latest modeling gigs and high-profile events, and it only made me feel worse. What was I doing here? I was just a nobody.

Kenan returned and immediately noticed the shift in my mood. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, his eyes searching mine.

I shook my head, not trusting my voice. But Kenan wasn't having it. He gently tilted my chin up, making me meet his gaze.

"Talk to me, Y/N," he insisted. "What's going on?"

I took a deep breath, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I just... I feel like I don't belong here, Kenan. Everyone is so beautiful and glamorous, and I'm just... me. A small-town girl who doesn't measure up."

His expression softened, and he pulled me closer. "Y/N, you are the most beautiful person here. Inside and out. Do you know why I fell for you? Because you’re real. You’re kind, and you have a heart of gold. Those things matter so much more than fancy clothes or model looks."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I looked away, trying to compose myself. "But look at them," I whispered. "They're perfect."

Kenan cupped my face in his hands, his gaze intense and unwavering. "No, they're not. Nobody is perfect. And you—you're perfect for me. You don’t have to compete with anyone. I love you just the way you are."

I bit my lip, feeling the warmth of his words seep into my heart. "But what if they think I'm not good enough for you?"

Kenan's eyes flashed with determination. "Then they don’t know what they're talking about. You are more than enough, Y/N. You are everything to me."

He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering as if to seal his words. "I brought you here because I wanted to share my world with you. Not to make you feel less than. You are my equal, my partner. Never forget that."

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. Kenan’s love and reassurance were like a balm to my wounded self-esteem. "Thank you, Kenan," I whispered. "I needed to hear that."

He smiled, brushing a tear from my cheek. "Anytime, my love. Now, let's enjoy the evening together. And remember, you belong here because you belong with me."

As the night went on, I felt more at ease. Kenan never left my side, his presence a constant reminder of his love and support.

#football imagine #football x reader #turkiye #kenan yildiz x reader #kenan yildiz

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maximotts · 2 years ago

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Just a quick milf Wanda thought because I’m homosexual and I need to write this. Pls ignore that I had this queued for Wednesday and put it back in my drafts because of that creepy anon I got, here be the thing 💖

cw for implied smut and lingerie shopping, but there’s nothing truly explicit in this, just Wanda being flirty

Wanda asking you to run a few errands for her because she’s unexpectedly busy with the boys since Vis decided to come pick them up around dinner instead of lunch. And yeah, maybe you had a few things to do with your Saturday already, but she sounded so overwhelmed on the phone.

You could just picture Wanda slumped against the kitchen wall watching Billy and Tommy run circles around her, her sentences rushed as she tried her hardest to be quick with giving you the list of places she needed you to stop by, “Oh, for the last stop, be a peach and pick something out for me. I trust your judgment.”

She said it so innocently, you hadn’t thought of anything of it, noting her errands and setting off to start your drive around town. Each time you mentioned to a shop’s person you were you were picking something up for Ms. Maximoff, their face lit up, perfectly agreeable to help you grab whatever she asked for and praising your helpful nature.

The last place was in the next town over, a small store you’d never paid much attention to. The second you stepped through the door, you realized why.

It wasn't that the lingerie store was tacky or crude, but you certainly felt underdressed in your denim cutoffs amongst the lavish mannequins. You could barely make eye contact with the shop owner while trying to ask for Wanda's order, the older women clearly amused with your struggle.

Upon revealing there was nothing set aside for her, a reminder of Wanda's words mortified you: pick something out for me. For her. Lingerie... for Wanda. On your judgement. To your albeit limited knowledge, the only person she’d worn anything like this for lately was you.

Steam had to be blowing from your ears. If not for the fear of disappointing her, you would've run away.

Suddenly each outfit was visible on Wanda and not only was it impossible to pick, the process of being shown all the details and advantages of every choice by the shop owner left your face hotter than the sun.

As soon as you pick one, you put the purchase on Wanda's tab and sprint with the box to your car. The drive home only makes your anxiety rise, wondering if and how to present it to her, hoping your taste in lingerie isn't offensive; there were way too many racing thoughts.

Finally you settle on just putting the box on her bed and busying yourself with putting as many things from your errands away as you could. But by the time Wanda comes back that evening, you're wondering why you lingered in her empty house for so long. She hadn't asked you to do anything more than complete some tasks for her, certainly not to lurk without purpose.

Wanda doesn't care, thinks it's sweet you'd wait for her return instead of running off to some party on Saturday night. "Here to keep me company, sweet pea?"

You figure saying no sounded rude and it gave you an excuse for being in her home still so you went along with it, rattling off the completed list of tasks and explaining what you'd put where just in case you were wrong about anything. If Wanda noticed how you left out the last shop, she didn't say anything, granting you a bright smile and pulling you in for a kiss that made your heart melt.

"I'll go change into my house clothes, then we can curl up and watch a movie. Give me ten minutes!" As soon as you heard Wanda shut her bedroom door, you remembered the box you left at the end of her bed and you waited with baited breath for a scream, a gasp, any indication that she'd opened the package at all... but none came.

For some amount of painfully long minutes, you heard nothing, leaving you stone still on the sofa, feverishly wiping your clammy hands over your legs. And then, finally, her voice called out from upstairs, "Come up here, please. I need your help!"

She didn't sound mad, just... normal. You didn't know what to expect as you climbed the carpeted stairs, but then as you turned the corner you saw Wanda standing in her bedroom doorway, grinning as she toyed with the sleeve of her new dark blue gown. "So this is the kind of thing you want to see me in?"

The actual dress was a little shorter than she typically wore, ending at her upper thigh, and much lower cut, accenting the slight push the bodice's corseted fit gave her chest. "It was a hard decision. You'd look beautiful in the whole store."

"Well aren't you a charmer," Wanda beckoned you closer from where you fidgeted in place, drawing you in until you were mere inches away. "Let me pay you back for all your hard work today, sweetheart. I'll even show you how to take me out of this once I get tired of wearing it."

#wanda is so silly I wuv her #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fic #milf!wanda au #motts writes.#maximotts

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justmystyles · 1 year ago

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Now You're In My Life - Part 9

catch up here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 3.8k

summary: you and Harry have dinner with your family.

warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.

a/n: this is a very silly fluffy chapter, not going to lie. hope you enjoy it!

*i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“Are you sure we’re not underdressed?” Harry asked, as you drove through the streets of your hometown.

You smiled over at him, squeezing his hand, which had been linked to yours for the entire ride. “Promise. My sister and I always coordinate for family dinners. We decided to use tonight as the inaugural run for our new track suits.” Your eyes travel over him, appraising his outfit. “Yours isn’t an exact match, but at least you had something on theme.”

“Yes, well I didn’t have much warning.” He joked before turning his attention back to the road.

After sitting in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Harry brought your joined hands to his lips, kissing them softly. “I love you, girlfriend.”

Your heart fluttered as your gaze traveled to Harry. Even though you could only see his profile, the content look on his face was possibly the best sight you had ever seen. “I love you too, boyfriend.” You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to hearing him say it, but you were certain you’d never grow tired of it.

“So what exactly am I in for here?” Harry asked. “Will your dad be giving me a proper interrogation?”

“Oh,” you paused thinking it over for a minute. “I actually have no idea. I’ve, well I never…”

“Am I the first guy you’ve brought home?” He asked incredulously.

You simply shrugged in reply. “Right there, take a right,” you change the subject, pointing out your parent’s driveway.

Harry pulled in, putting the car in park, you tried to remove your hand from his, but he only squeezed tighter. “Hey,” he tugged your arm gently, you looked up at him in response. “This is kind of a big deal, being the first guy you bring home to your parents. I want you to know that I don’t take that lightly.”

“Yeah, well you didn’t give me much of a choice. You kind of invited yourself.” You say, trying to lighten the moment.

Harry smirked and shook his head. “Fine, get out of the car. I’ll come back for you in a couple of hours.”

“No way, Jose. You RSVP’d, no turning back now.”

Harry’s expression sombered as he leaned in, resting his hand on the side of your neck, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Don’t wanna turn back. Only forward, only with you.” He loved the back and forth the two of you shared, but he was also desperate for you to be more open and vulnerable with him. He had gotten a taste of it earlier in the day, and he wanted more.

Overwhelmed by his sincerity, you surged forward, pressing your lips against his, deepening the kiss immediately. You lingered like that before Harry pulled back with a chuckle. “Let’s put a pin in that for later, princess. Don’t know that meeting your parents half hard would make the best first impression.”

“Valid.” You giggled, kissing him on the nose before reaching to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“And don’t you dare touch that door young lady,” he chastised.

“I know, I know. Always a gentleman.” You sighed sarcastically.

Harry comes around, opening your door and helping you out of the car. Your eyes immediately travel to the front window, you see your parent’s faces quickly disappear behind the curtain. You laugh to yourself, you know your family too well.

You turn the doorknob, stepping into the split level ranch home you grew up in, an instant wave of nostalgia and comfort washing over you. You can see your dad straight ahead in the kitchen, putting together a cheese plate, you glance to the right, your mother sitting on the couch. You couldn’t see her fully with the Christmas tree in the way, but you were sure she was trying to act nonchalant as if you didn’t just catch her gawking at you through the window.

At the top of the stairs, your family dog is waiting for you, tail wagging uncontrollably. “My sweet little Dubby, my favorite family member.”

“Heard that,” your mother shouted.

“You were supposed to.” You snap back.

Harry chuckles at the exchange. You stop halfway up the stairs so that you are eye to eye with the dog, you cradle her face in your hands, speaking in baby talk to her.

“Um… love, are you sure she’s not going to bite you in the face?” Harry asks, a little unnerved at the Dalmatian’s teeth on full display.

You look at him with a furrowed brow before turning your attention back to Dubby. “Oh no no no, she’s smiling! She smiles at me every time I come home!”

Harry nods and approaches the dog cautiously, still not fully convinced. He holds his hand out, she gives it a quick sniff before licking it and placing her head underneath, encouraging him to give her pets which he eagerly takes her up on.

“See, you’re in.” You pat him on the back before continuing up the stairs, entering the main living space, Harry following behind.

“I’m here,” you announce. “I see Mel’s late as usual.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Your dad comes out from the kitchen, wrapping you in a hug. “Not yet, we told her to be here later.”

“We wanted to meet your guest first.” Your mother continues as she steps up to you.

“Oh, that was actually kind of a genius move.” You nod your head in approval before hugging your mother. When you step out of the embrace, you take a deep breath before linking hands with Harry. “So, mom, dad, this is my boyfriend, Harry.” You feel yourself blush slightly. It was the first time you got to introduce him as your boyfriend, and it just felt right.

Harry squeezed your hand gently, also loving the feeling of hearing you claim him like that, before letting go to greet your parents. “Mister and misses Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure.” He reaches out, shaking each of their hands.

“Please,” your mother waves off his formalities. “David and Tina.”

Harry nods in understanding as your parents lead you both to the couch. You take a seat and Harry sits down beside you, taking your hand instantly.

“Drinks?” Your father offers.

“Water, please.” You say with a smile.

“I’ll take the same.” Harry says. Your father nods and retreats to the kitchen. As your mother takes a seat in an adjacent armchair.

“So, I must admit,” she begins. “You’re definitely much more normal looking than we expected.”

Your free hand immediately flies to your face. “Starting out strong.” You mumble. Harry chuckles and leans into you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m just saying,” your mother holds her hands up defensively. “We’ve never seen any of the guys you’ve dated. We just assumed they were those dirty boys with long hair and tattoos all over the place. Boys who call themselves musicians.” She uses air quotes around the word musicians.

You and Harry exchange a look, trying not to laugh. She was practically describing him now, and definitely describing him a couple of years ago.

“So Harry, what do you do for a living?” Your dad asks as he returns with a tray of drinks, placing them down on the coffee table in front of you.

A single bark of laughter escapes you. You turn to face Harry with an arched brow, waiting with baited breath for his answer.

“Well, I have my hand in quite a few things actually, I own a couple of busin–”

“No no no,” you interrupt him. “Not all the side hustles, your actual job. And maybe you should take your jacket off while you tell them.”

He narrows his eyes playfully at you. He knew once they understood what he did and who he was, it would be different. But he didn’t want to just come out and say he was a multi platinum recording artist.

The conversation was mercifully interrupted by the opening of the front door. “You guys always complain that I’m late, so look at me showing up early.” Your sister announces as she comes up the stairs, greeting the dog on her way by. She freezes in her tracks when she sees you and Harry sitting on the couch. “Why the fuck is Harry Styles in our house?”

“Wait, why does that name sound familiar?” Your mother asks.

“Because he’s like one of the most famous singers in the world,” your sister replies. “He was in that band, One Direction. You know? The poster on my wall?”

You smirk, reminding yourself to thank your sister for the perfect setup. “Yeah, you know he’s the musician on the poster with long hair and tattoos?”

Your parents’ faces turn beet red at the revelation. “I’m very sorry, Harry. We didn’t mean…”

“No, it’s fine. Really.” He assures your parents. “You just want the best for your daughter. I want the best for her too.” He turns to you and smiles. “Though, perhaps I went for the wrong sister if she’s the one with the poster of me.” He chuckled, standing to shake your sister’s hand.

“Nope, you got the right one.” Your sister assured him. “You’d be barking up the wrong tree here.” You and your parents laugh, your sister has always been particularly blunt.

Harry nods in understanding as you stand, greeting your sister with a hug.

“This explains why you were so distracted when I called the other night.” Your sister observed.”Watermelon sugar, am I right?.” She winked and nudged you with an elbow making you and Harry giggle.

“What does that mean?” Your parents ask simultaneously. The three of you freeze, your eyes went wide, head snapping over to see Harry blushing. Your sister slaps her hand over her mouth.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” You say quickly.

Your mother sighs. “You never want to explain anything to us. We’re not young and cool, we don’t just know things.”

“I am not explaining what it means.” You shoot daggers at your sister, silently cursing her for bringing it up.

“Oh,” a moment of realization washes over your mother. “It’s a sex thing, isn’t it?”

“JESUS!” You shout, covering your face in your hands. You spread your index and middle fingers slightly so that you can see Harry, whose face is a deep crimson from embarrassment.

“Nevermind, I don’t want to know anymore!” Your father throws his hand up in defeat and walks back into the kitchen.

You take a deep breath, sinking back into the couch. “This is going great.”

Harry plops down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. “It’s alright princess, I think things are going just fine.” He kisses the top of your head.

Your dad returns from the kitchen, handing your sister a drink. “Let’s all just start over,” he suggests. “Harry, how did you end up in the music biz?”

You drop your gaze, shaking your head in embarrassment at your dad trying to sound cool. Harry laughs again, patting your thigh softly. “Well, I auditioned for this show X Factor when I was sixteen.”

“Oh, Y/N and I used to watch that all the time!”

“You did?!” Harry says surprised, looking over at you in shock.

“Absolutely, it was appointment television for us. I loved listening to Y/N’s thoughts on the singers, she always knew what she was talking about. She has a good ear for music.” She smiled proudly at you. “Can’t sing for the life of her, but she has a good ear.”

“And that’s why you’ll never hear me sing.” You say to Harry, before turning your attention to your mother. “He wasn’t on the one we watched though, he was on the UK one.”

“No, we performed on the American one. A couple of times, actually.” He looks at you with a cocky grin. “Little miss ‘I never paid attention to One Direction’.”

“I obviously wasn’t paying attention if I don’t remember it happening.” You wink at him before turning back to your father. “What’s for dinner anyway? I didn’t smell anything when I came in.”

As your father begins to explain that he called for pizza, listing off the different things he ordered, Harry leans in closely, speaking low enough for only you to hear. “You’ll be paying for that comment later, missy.” He warned as he playfully pinched your side.

Despite the awkward start to the evening, things started to simmer down. Harry was getting along great with your family. You didn’t doubt he would for a second. Your dad and Harry seemed to be in a spirited competition to see who could tell the worst joke. You, your mother and your sister were the true losers of that battle.

After dinner, everyone retired back to the living room except for your dad who made a stop off in the kitchen to light the candles and bring out your birthday cake. He lowered the lights and entered the room as your family and Harry sang happy birthday to you. You looked around the room, unable to contain your smile. You were glad you had never brought a guy home before. None of them would have fit in even half as well as Harry had.

You looked over to him, he was singing with that wide, dimpled grin that you loved so much. You were so overwhelmed in that moment that you felt tears start to prick your eyes. Harry’s brow rounded in concern, you gave him a reassuring smile and thumbs up as the song ended. You turned back to the cake, blowing out the candles as the people closest to you in the world cheered for you.

Once the flames were out, Harry pulled you close, placing a kiss on the top of your head and murmuring I love yous into your hair. Your family watched on fondly. They had never seen you so happy, and they were grateful for the boy that had permanently engraved the smile on your face.

As you were sitting around enjoying your cake, your sister excused herself to the basement. She returned soon after with a familiar box. Your eyes went wide.

“Nope, no way, not happening.” You protested. Your parents laughed as Harry looked on trying to understand what was going on.

“Absolutely! We always watch home movies and go through old pictures on birthdays.”

“But this is different, I have a guest with me.” Your tone was pleading. You weren’t ready to be embarrassed on that level in front of Harry. Not yet.

“Why don’t we leave it up to our guest?” Your mother suggested.

Everyone looked at Harry expectantly, while his eyes locked on you. He grins, eyes never leaving yours as he answers. “I would love to see all of it.”

You cover your face with your hands and groan with defeat. He chuckles, grabbing your wrists and pulling them down as your sister sets up the videos. He leans in and places a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your revenge when I bring you home to meet Mum and Gemma. I promise.”

Your exasperated frown quickly became a smile. Everything had happened so quickly with Harry, that you hadn’t thought about going home with him to meet his family. But he clearly had. You got butterflies in your stomach knowing that he was excited for that to happen.

You were pulled out of the moment by the sound of the television, you looked up to see your three year old self toddling through a petting zoo. “Oh man, you’re really going to start with this one?” You bury your face into Harry’s shoulder, and he wraps his arms around you, his eyes locked on the screen.

As the video continues you work your way around, pointing out animals to your mother who is holding the camera. For some reason, you considered every sheep and goat to be a cow, and informed your parents of that. As you approached one particular ‘cow’ it had its head down, eating some pellets. You bent over, likely to place a kiss on the top of its head, as you often did with your dog and cats at home, when it abruptly lifted its head, a horn butting you right in the nose.

The room bursts into laughter, Harry included. He turns to face you, seeing that you’re trying to suppress your own laughter while giving him a faux stern look. He leaned in, brushing a soft kiss to your pouted lips.

The videos continued, and you knew what was happening. Because it was your birthday, and you had brought a guest, you were the main focus of the selections. There were more embarrassing moments, like the time you rocked too hard on a rocking horse and ended up falling off backwards, but there were also nice memories as well. Dance recitals, school plays, birthday parties and more.

A video played from Christmas day when you were roughly eleven years old, the whole family was gathered at your grandparents house, and the camera panned around, getting shots of everyone. When they panned into the den, they found you teaching your grandmother the Macerena. You had recently learned it at your friend’s birthday, and you always loved showing your grandmother the cool new things. And she loved learning them from you.

You watched on, subconsciously shifting, rubbing the tattoo on your left wrist. The tattoo you got for her. You feel Harry nudge you, and you look over to him, tears pooling in your eyes. It had been nine years since you lost her, but there wasn’t a day that went by where you didn’t think of her. There were so many moments in your life you wished you could have told her about, had her there for. So many things you felt like you still needed to learn from her. Harry cupped your cheek, brushing away a stray tear. He looked at you with a question in his eyes, mouthing the words ‘you okay?’ You nodded in response and sniffled, composing yourself before turning back to the screen.

“Are you going to the cemetery tomorrow?” Your mother asks.

You freeze, you had been so caught up in the bubble you had created with Harry over the last few days that you didn’t realize that the anniversary of her passing was the following day. “Oh, I didn’t think about it. I mean Harry’s only in town for a few days. Maybe I could go aft–”

“I don’t mind,” he interrupts. “I’ll go with you if you’d like.”

“Yeah?” You look at him in question, he nods. “I would probably want to pick up my grandfather first, he’ll want to go.”

“Excellent, I can’t wait to meet him.” Harry assures you.

“Okay then,” you say, turning back to your mother. “I guess I am.” You pause, looking back over to Harry and taking his hand. “I mean, we are.”

Your parents watched the two of you fondly. They had always been concerned about the kinds of guys you were seeing, especially since you barely talked about them and never brought them around. But seeing you and Harry, how affectionate he was with you, how tender and kind, they knew that he was exactly what they had always wanted for you.

The night went on a bit longer, you watched a few more movies and went through some pictures. As you were talking and reminiscing with your family, Harry listened with the utmost attention. He meant it when he said he wanted to know everything about you, and this whole night had been an amazing step in the right direction.

At one point, when it came up that your parents had left your bedroom exactly as it was when you left for college, Harry insisted on seeing it. You took his hand, leading him down the hall to the last door on the right.

“That door stays open, young lady!” Your mother shouted from down the hall. “No watermelon sugar!”

“Moooommmmmm gross!” You hear your sister groan

You froze in your tracks, pinching the bridge of your nose. Harry chuckles, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. You open the door and step through. “Here it is.”

Harry’s eyes sweep the area, taking in every detail. The walls are a pastel green, yellow and white gingham curtains match the sheets on the double bed. He runs his hand along the ornate carvings of the cream and gold headboard, and notices the matching desk and dresser. It’s definitely not the room he pictured for you, until he focuses on the wall decor.

The first thing that catches his eye are the black angel wings hanging over the window, he then notices the posters, loaded with images of the kinds of guys your parents expected you to bring home. “It is definitely you. Perfectly punk rock princess.”

“Yeah, well we did the full ‘big girl’ redesign when I was 12, and then my tastes changed, but my family’s budget didn’t, so we just added on.” You shrug.

“I love it, really.” He assures you. “It’s like your beautiful brain exploded in here, it’s a little bit of everything I love about you.” He places his hands on your hips, you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.

“You know,” you say coyly. “You’re the first boy I’ve ever had in my room.”

He arched a brow, and smirked. “Really?” You hummed in reply, and he pulled you closer, dropping his lips to yours, deepening the kiss instantly.

You pull back, slapping his chest playfully. “Harry, my parents are right out there.”

“Mmm,” he begins trailing kisses down your neck. “Now tell me we should be studying for the big test on Friday.”

You burst out laughing, pushing out of his embrace. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“You love it.”

“Very much,” you look up at him, your expression softening.

He links your fingers with his, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

You nod in agreement, leading him out of your room. You both say your goodbyes to your family, Harry thanking your parents for their hospitality and promising to come back to see them next time he’s in town. You and your sister agree to get together soon.

“I think they really liked you,” you tell Harry in the car on the way home.

“I really liked them,” he smiles. “Definitely felt like a part of the family.”

“Good,” you squeeze his hand.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for the rest of the ride home. You can’t help but let your mind drift off, thinking about how someday he may actually be your family. You know it’s way too early to be thinking like that, but you can’t and won’t stop yourself. You’re in love, and you don’t expect that to change any time soon.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles meet cute #harry styles fluff #harry's house #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry style imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #love on tour #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic

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scary-event2369 · 1 year ago

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Yandere CEO (One-Shot)

This one takes just a bit longer to get to the spicy scenes, but you get to see him in a more “dere” form before the “yan”. Word Count: 2560

Warning: Not proof read, very shitty writing ahead. (wrote this in one sitting again)

Content: Fem Body Reader (No gendered/pronouns used), age-gap (yan is 36 reader is 24), public sex, dub-con, minor hair pulling, breeding mention at the end, the yan is just a tiny bit aggressive

—

“Let me take you out for dinner,” my boss said, leaning on my desk looking down at me. His casually rolled up sleeves revealed well-defined, muscular arms. I greedily looked at them, trying not to be too obvious. Prying my eyes from his arms and my work, I looked up at him. His beautiful dark brown eyes met mine. The CEO, Daniel Li, was the head of the largest security and protection company. He was extremely rich and extremely good looking. With his tall stature, sun-kissed complexion, an enchanting, pearly-white smile, and full lips, he exuded charisma. He was twelve years older than me, but it didn’t show in the slightest. He had that mature older look to him, but to think he was thirty-six years old was off to say the least.

“Why? What’s the special occasion?” I asked him slightly confused. I was trying to think if I missed any big sales he did, but nothing was coming to mind. “It’s been one year since you’ve became my secretary,” He said, still looking at me with those dark chocolate eyes of his. “We must celebrate.”

“Has it really been a year?” I asked him, a little bit amazed by how quickly time passed. “It feels like just yesterday you showed me my office,” I laughed a bit.

His gaze softened a bit as he kept looking at me, “Yes, already a year,” he said gently. “Please let me treat you to dinner.” I thought about it for a second. I really had nothing to do at afterwork, and I wasn’t in the mood to cook anything…

"Sure, why not? I'm up for it," I replied. His eyes brightened, and he said, "Fantastic! I'll pick you up at seven. Make sure to dress fancy.” Dress fancy? Was working here for a year really that much of a special occasion? I thought. However, I kept this to myself and simply nodded, glancing at the clock. It was nearly five o'clock, almost time for me to sign out. “That sounds good,” I told him as I began to gather my things, “Are you going to tell me the restaurant or will this be one of your many secrets?” I joked He let out a deep chuckle, “You know me so well! It will be a secret for now, but trust me you’ll enjoy it.”

—

We arrived at the restaurant,and describing it as fancy would be the understatement of the century. It was easily the most elegant, posh looking place in town. I did as he said and chose the fanciest outfit I had, but I still felt underdressed. "Mr. Li," I uttered, my eyes widening as I took in the breathtaking building. "I know I said it was okay that you’re taking me out for dinner, but this place is just too… extravagant." Turning towards him, I realized that he was already fixed on me. His attire, usually professional, had been elevated to a whole new level. “Trust me my little assistant, you deserve this,” he said, parking the car. He quickly got out and went over to open the door for me, offering his hand. "You're truly the best assistant I've ever had, and it's only right to treat you to something extraordinary."

I sighed, knowing that once he set his mind to something, he was set. "Alright... but don't let this become a habit. I might get spoiled," I quipped, accepting his hand as I stepped out of his sleek black Aston Martin.

He gently squeezed my hand as he guided me toward the entrance. I could have sworn I heard him murmur, "I want to spoil you," but I might have been mistaken.

Then again, maybe I wasn't wrong at all.

The moment we stepped inside, I was completely overwhelmed. I’ve been to fancy restaurants for business purposes but this was a whole different level. I wasn’t even listening to her as I was just so caught up by the interior before me.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting prismatic light across the room. Soft yet elegant classical music was playing throughout the building, it was mixed with the soft hum of conversations. The carpet beneath our feet exuded a deep, almost regal shade of blue, complementing the chairs that appeared to be very comfortable.

"Are you alright?" Daniel's concerned voice pulled me from my entranced state. I hadn't even noticed the hostess gesturing towards our table. My cheeks flushed as I replied, "Yes! I'm sorry."

His laughter accompanied us as we followed her to our table. Only when we were seated did I realize that we were still holding hands. I quickly let go. “I can’t be holding hands with my boss! This is strictly professional!” I screamed at myself internally.

Daniel's expression dropped, his eyes revealing a hint of disappointment the moment our hands stopped touching. However, the hostess, who presented us with menus, diverted our attention.

“What do you think you’re going to get?” He asked, his disappointed look gone as he was going through the menu. It was hard, everything seemed so good it was seemingly impossible. “I don’t know, there are so many good choices,” I said, analyzing every single item listed. I glanced at the price tag and felt my heart drop out of my ass. “Everything here is so expensive! I really would feel bad if you paid it all.” He chuckled, his response laced with warmth and sincerity. "Don't worry about the price. I'll gladly treat you to whatever you want."

I was about to protest when our waiter approached. He appeared to be of a similar age to me and had a charming, welcoming smile. "Hello. I'm Zach. I'll be your waiter for this evening. May I start you off with any drinks?" I returned his smile, saying, "I'll just have water, thank you." Zach jotted it down and then turned his attention to Daniel, as did I. His blissful looking attitude was long gone, he had that cold and somewhat annoyed look as he glared at the waiter. “Water,” he said coldly. The waiter nodded, casting a wary glance in my direction, likely due to Mr. Li's intense stare. "I'll be back with your waters shortly," he said before walking off quickly.

I turned my attention to my boss who had a displeased look on his face, “Are you alright?” I asked him, my voice laced with concern. This seemed to be enough because his face brightened up again. “Yes! I am fine, my little assistant.” I chuckled softly at his sudden change of mood, “That’s good! I thought I did something to displease you.” He quickly shook his head, “No! You could never do anything to displease me,” he said swiftly, yet sincerely.

Playfully rolling my eyes, I returned to looking at the menu. "Yeah, sure." Mr. Li chuckled, his eyes still fixed on me. "I really mean it. You're the most perfect person I've ever met. You're the only one who's ever met my standards." His compliment made my cheeks flush even more. "I-uh, well, thank you, sir." He was still smiling at me, “You can just call me-” Before he could finish his sentence, the waiter returned with our drinks, and my boss's mood soured instantly. “Here you guys go. Are you ready to order?” He asked, looking between us again. "I'll have the Steak au Poivre, medium rare," Mr. Li replied with an almost eager tone, as if wishing the waiter away. “Oh! I’ll have that also,” I told the waiter as I handed him my menu. He smiled at me and our hands brushed as he collected the menus. "That's a great choice; you'll love it," he said, still gazing at me as he walked away. I turned to Daniel, who appeared even more pissed than before. "He seems nice," I mentioned, taking a sip of water. This darkened his expression further. "Do you like him?" he asked, his voice low and threatening. Confusion overcame me as I met his intense gaze. "Uh, I guess so? He seems like a good waiter," I responded hesitantly. This was clearly not a good answer because, suddenly, he took my hand and basically dragged me to the male’s bathroom.

He quickly brought me into a stall, trapping me between the door and him with his big arms. He was glaring at me, his breathing heavy. “S-Sir?” I stammer out confused. He quickly shut me up by pressing his lips against mine in a deep aggressive manner. He nipped at my bottom lip, causing me to let out a surprised yelp. This made it the perfect time for him to push his tongue in my mouth, wrapping it against mine. I groaned at the sensation, only then did he pull away, our swollen lips and the trail of saliva connecting our lips being the only thing. I was going to say something before he grabbed my cheeks, squishing them. “You’re good at riling me up,” he said, his tone deep and smokey. His breath was rigged as he peered deeply into my eyes, “The way you looked and talked at that guy… it seems you want to make me jealous.” I was confused, riling him up? “Sir, I don’t know-” he cut me off by connecting our lips again in another long and possessive kiss. My hands went to his chest clutching his jacket as he continued the kiss. I didn’t know if I wanted to pull him closer or push him away. After a moment or two he pulled away again. “You’re pretty eyes should only look at me. I must be the only one who you pay attention to,” his voice was still dark and stern.

He let go of my cheeks, trailing his hands down my sides. I shiver at his gentle yet aggressive touch. He bent down, pushing his face deep into my neck. “You’re intoxicating,” he murmured as he started to kiss my neck. “Sir, I don’t think-” he bit my neck causing me to stop and let out a small yelp. “Don’t call me sir,” he demanded, his voice was commanding “Say my name… call me Daniel,” he continued to pepper my neck with kisses and nibbles. My hands went from his chest to his dark hair, running my hands through it, completely messing up the put together look he had. “Daniel,” I whispered out, trying to hold back the moans. I felt him smirk against my neck as he pulled back, turning me around. “Put your hands on the door,” he commanded. I did just that and lifted up my dress, pushing my panties aside. “Good job,” he whispered in my ear, his hand gently caressing my ass before gently going up and down my soaking folds. “You’re so wet, just from my kisses?” he laughed momentarily. He then paused for a moment before he smacked my ass hard, causing me to whimper and my knees to weaken momentarily. “Unless it’s from that waiter… Did he make you this wet from a smile?” His tone filled with anger and jealousy. I shook my head, “N-no of course not,” I said breathlessly. He grabbed a handful of my hair as he inserted two digits into my greedy hole. “Better not be, because this body, this pussy is mine,” his tone was aggressive as he started to move his fingers hard. My knees weakened more as I let out loud moans. The empty bathroom filled with the noises coming from both lips. It echoed making the whole thing more embarrassing, yet exciting. “I can't take it anymore,” he growled as he took his fingers out of me, to unzip his pants. His shaft was twitching, rubbing against my entrance. “D-Daniel wait,” I whimpered, we needed to think about this! He was my boss and I was his secretary. This would never work. He didn’t care though, he shoved his manhood inside me. I let out a long and loud moan, he let out a couple grunts as well. “Shit, you’re tighter than I expected.” He gave me a moment to adjust to his size before he started moving.

He started off as slow, warming me up to the sensation of him being deep inside me, however it didn’t take him long to be ramming into me, hitting places I didn’t think was possible. I was moaning loudly from the pleasure, “What if someone comes in?” I managed to ask between the pleasure I was feeling. He laughed as his hands were on my hips, holding me in place as he thrusted over and over again. “If someone came in and saw you like this, I would strangle them with my bare hands.’ He kissed the back of my shoulder, “Only I'm allowed to see you like this.” I blushed, it was a bit scary since I knew he meant it, yet it turned me on more. “You clenched around me more when I said that!” he laughed between groans as he sunk his cock deeper into me. The force he was going at his balls smacked against my sensitive clit causing me to whimper and moan more. It didn’t help he kept pleasuring my g-spot, it was obvious he was skilled in what he was doing.

The force at what we were doing caused the stall door to open, luckily he was holding me so I didn’t fall. Instead of closing the door and continuing, he brought me to the sink. I put my hands on the cold porcelain. “What are you doing?” I moaned out as he started to pick up the pace. “Look in the mirror,” he demanded. I shook my head, too embarrassed to do so. He grabbed a chunk of my hair, forcing me to look in the mirror. “Look at yourself as I fuck you.” The expression I held was one of pure pleasure, my eyes were droopy, and my lips were parted open. He smiled as he could tell I made eye contact with myself, “You’re so fucking hot.” I closed my eyes as I felt the pressure building up, I wouldn’t be able to take much more. Daniel let go of my hair to grab my cheeks again, forcing my head up and my eyes open to look in the mirror once more. This time I got to look at his face, he was smiling, it was clear he was feeling just as good as I was. “Come on, look in the mirror as you come over my dick,” he growled, kissing my cheek. I moaned as I looked in the mirror, finally releasing all over his cock causing my knees to buckle and lean onto the counter more. My walls pulsated around him, causing him to come soon also. The thick white liquid reached me deeply. It seemed like he didn’t want to pull out. “You would look so pretty swollen with my kid,” he muttered as he slowly pulled himself out, kissing the back of my head. He fixed my panties before the mixture of our juices could leak out onto the floor. I was still panting as I looked in the mirror once more, meeting his gaze. He smiled at me, clearly happy and not in a mood like before. “Let’s go, we don’t want our dinner to get cold.”

#yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere #yandere ceo #ceo yandere #yandere one shot #tw yandere

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mikareo · 1 year ago

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⌗ RENAISSANCE ₊ ˖ ་. rin itoshi x fem reader (2.1k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ he's never been one to appreciate art, but you've given him a new set of eyes— the love he feels for you is overwhelming, and he hopes it lasts forever. (bonus for rationalism and romanticism; necessary to read first!)

contains; colorblind!rin, painter!reader, rin’s mom is reader’s art mentor, swearing, immense fluff, kissing, sae and rin actually have a good relationship, extremely inaccurate depictions of colorblindness author's note; bonus ending for rationalism/romanticism!

This is a fancy-ass venue.

Rin can’t help but feel underdressed for the occasion, despite being clad in a fitted white button up and black tie, whilst his dress-shoes cramp his feet in the worst ways imaginable. He almost looks like that one moviestar in the romantic comedy you love so much. Was it the one with the rich guy in Singapore or the one where they worked in an office and he was a businessman? Rin can’t remember. Whatever, it doesn’t really matter either way. He’s distracting himself too much, he needs to focus— tonight is one of the most important nights of your career. No, it is the most important night for your future career. His mother contacted every big art distributor and critic that she has professional relationships with. It’s your night…and wow did you kill it.

It’s almost as if you’ve plastered yourself across the walls. Every art piece that his eyes roll over is exceptionally you - your personality, your passions, and your heart - and it’s obvious you’ve spent months curating the most perfect array of paintings a person could muster.

He can read your story like an open book while he slowly makes his way through the gallery. There are paintings depicting your childhood, ones that remind him of the stories you tell him of your primary school drama and premature interests. That one must be when you broke your arm while learning to ride your bike. You’re particularly stuck on that story— strongly stating how upset you were because it was your dominant arm, halting your ability to paint for seven weeks. Referencing your painting passion, there’s a whole array of canvases dedicated to your love for art; beginning with inspirations of immaturity to skillful selections of texture techniques. Rin is obviously no art critic, but if he were, he’d write a whole expose on how amazing you are.

With his mind so engaged with your talent, he’s oblivious to the people passing by; so oblivious that he doesn’t even notice his own family approaching.

“She’s talented isn’t she?”

Holy shit. The familiar voice of his mother startles Rin, but he instinctively wraps a loose arm around her waist and greets her with a grin. She returns the affectionate expression and it’s painfully obvious that he got his smile from her, and even more painfully obvious that they’re all related when Sae walks up with his teeth beaming. Long lashes and a toothy grin, the physical brand of the Itoshi family; famous in not only football, but good looks!

“Y’know I always knew she had an innate ability.” Miss Itoshi has a faint smile on her face, gazing at her youngest son with nothing but pure happiness. It’s a true display of a mother’s love for her youngest son, and Rin doesn’t know what he’d do without her guidance. She squeezes his side and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. God, he’d be so embarrassed if his teammates saw this. “Though, I always thought she specialized in artwork.”

Hm? Rin sends a puzzled glance in her direction. What is she going on about?

His mom continues, knowing her son well enough that he needs a clear explanation in order to understand anything at all, and presses her hand against his chest. “I didn’t realize she was so skilled at touching hearts.”

His heart is beating faster at the mere thought of your beauty.

There are tears behind Miss Itoshi’s eyes and Rin can feel the waterworks attempting to break his own dam. They’re an emotional duo, him and his mom, Sae gets tired of their antics sometimes— but Rin knows he loves them. Their mom always knows the right thing to say. “I never thought I’d see you like this, Rin.”

Sae smirks, nodding in agreement. “You seem so at ease. It’s cute.”

Reflexively, he pulls them both into a big hug— which is the first hug he’s given Sae since he was nothing but a young boy, six years old and playing soccer for the very first time. Rin finally understands what it means to love and be loved, all because of you; and now he can apply that same love to his older brother, who was his rival for so long. The overwhelming comfort he feels in his family’s arms is the same warmth he felt when he made his first goal and ran into his mother to celebrate his newfound passion. For a long time, Rin believed that it was only possible to have that one singular passion. Oh how wrong he was.

“I get it now.” he says softly into their ears. “She helped me understand.”

“And we’re happy for you,” Sae pats him on the back as hard as he can, eliciting a threatening glare from his younger sibling, to which their mother laughs.

“Check out the centerpieces down the hall.” Miss Itoshi nudges Rin on, standing beside Sae. “I think you’ll love them, sweetheart.”

With their encouragement, he carries on with the gallery and down the straight hallway of evolving paintings. Every step he takes, seems to carry him into a new era of your life. It’s almost as if he’s time traveling through memories that seemingly morph from abstract to realistic art; and he learns more and more about you with each passing second, ultimately leading towards one large painting in the center of the room.

Holy shit. You’re breathtaking.

Never in Rin’s life has his world stopped due to paint on canvas— but right now, it feels like every single brush stroke is a frozen second that he gets to relive again and again, just basking in the presence of your beautiful skill.

The way you’ve outlined your hair with thin lines and highlighted your lovely cheekbones, is nothing short of masterful. If he looks close enough, he can understand the comforting feeling of cupping your face with just his eyes. He didn’t even know you did self-portraits, but now he wishes he could hang this very one right above his couch; to show off the talent of his amazing girlfriend for everyone to see (not that he actually has many friends other than his teammates).

Where are you? He needs to let you know how special it is to be with someone like you—

“Cat got your tongue?”

Speak of the devil.

“Do you like it?” You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly. “What do you think?”

You said the same thing when you first met.

Rin looks between you and the painting, now realizing that no matter how masterful your skill is, it’s impossible to capture just how gorgeous you are in any form of art. You’re simply exquisite. The most talented painter in the world wouldn’t know how to appreciate your beauty. Davinci? No. Botticelli? No. Di Angelo? Not even he could sculpt your features to perfection. However, despite his high standards, Rin believes that your self portrait is the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

The familiar feeling of flusteredness grows on his cheeks as he holds eye-contact with you, wondering what color it is you’re wearing. He bets it’s red, you always wear red around him. “I love it.”

As your right hand finds his palm, the left reaches up and cups his cheek. With a gentle touch, your lips are on his and Rin feels his head take a spin on the merry-go-round of love. He can’t get enough of you. If he had a choice, he’d spend every waking second of his day peppering you in light kisses on every part of your body— and he’d make sure that you never felt loneliness again. You deserve nothing less than the absolute best, and he’s made it his life’s goal to give that to you.

Slowly, he begins to feel your smile against his lips and you pull away with a lovesick gaze. He pulls you into his chest, cradling your head and kissing it softly before whispering how proud he is, and it’s almost unbelievable how far Rin’s come. Somehow you’ve lured him into a bottomless ravine where the only resource to live is to be hopelessly in love with you— and truthfully, he never wants to escape. You're everything to him.

“You love it?” your eyes are shining brighter than the sun. “You haven’t even seen my best work yet.”

“Oh?’ Rin raises his brows, mocking surprise at your statement. “Well now you have to show me. It’s only fair.”

You place your hands on his chest and peck his lips before spinning him around. He’s confused for a moment, wondering what you’re doing when you could’ve just led him to the canvas instead of guiding him around like it’s a dance class…but then he sees it.

He sees himself.

Never in his life has he completely understood what being in love is. Yes, he's felt love. From his mother, who raised him to be the man he is; caring, thoughtful, and compassionate. From his brother, who helped him understand ambition and sacrifice. From his teammates, who challenge him to be the best he possibly can and to support one another without holding grudges. He's felt different types of love from so many people in his life. Familial. Platonic. Admiration. This is different, though. The love you show him is true love. It's the kind of love that movie stars win awards for portraying. It's the fantasy that kids dream about having when they grow up into big adults. It's the thing he thought was impossible to obtain, but was lucky enough to stumble upon you in that empty art studio on the best day of his life.

He didn't know love could be expressed in this kind of way. Through the very same paint strokes and brush marks that used to make him nauseous with hatred. Seeing your masterpiece, he doesn't understand how he could ever hate something so amazing. Art is spectacular. No. Your art is spectacular. You are spectacular.

"You love it right?" You're trying your best not to giggle at his awestruck reaction. "Want to know the best part?"

Rin can feel himself nodding, desperately reaching for your hand in an attempt to ground himself from the air he's walking on— and you begin to explain. "It's a dual piece. Notice how we're facing each other?"

Oh my god, you are facing each other. He hadn't noticed it before, but he can see clearly now. You've placed him in the dead center of the room, giving him a full view of both of the paintings— opposite of one another on two opposing easels. "Tell me more, baby." His voice is nothing louder than a whisper, only for you to hear.

"I'm painted in black and white."

Oh?

"You're painted in color."

...Oh.

"I wanted to show how love knows no bounds. There's beauty in how you see me and how I see you. It doesn't matter that I'm colorless to you, you still look at me like I'm the prettiest girl in the world; and I only wish you could understand how vibrant your eyes are, Rin. You're the most handsome man I've seen in my entire life."

He loves you.

He loves you so, so much.

A part of his heart feels like he's falling in love with you all over again. It's growing larger and larger, unable to contain the capacity of feelings he holds for you. He's so overwhelmed with joy that tears begin to fight to escape his eyes, ultimately dripping down his cheeks like watercolor on paper, and he sweeps you into the tightest hug known to man.

There's really only one thing left to do. One thing to close this chapter and carry on with the rest of your love story, something that's sacred only between the two of you. Something that he hopes to say to you everyday, every night, every hour, and every minute that he can.

"I love you."

this is the end of this series! every part was such a joy to write and i'm so thankful for all of the feedback i've been given. more fics coming soon love y'all <3

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

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come-away-with-me87 · 4 months ago

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The Art of Love Chapter 8

Chapter 7 here

******

Shouta then turned to you, and said, "I'd like to officially ask you this in person. Would you like to go on a date with me on Friday evening?" You smiled up at him, "I'd like that." He returned your smile, "great, I was thinking I could make you dinner at my place. Does 7:00pm sound good?" "That sounds perfect," you replied. He smiled at you once more, "have a nice night, Y/N. I'm looking forward to Friday." With that, he turned around and walked out the classroom door.

*****

The remainder of the week went by uneventfully at work, and suddenly, it was the end of the school day on Friday. Eri really seemed to be opening up more and more with each passing day; she especially seemed to hit it off with Hana, which made you happy to see. You'd have to tell Shouta about their friendship when you saw him later that evening. After school ended, Shouta came to pick up Eri, gave you a wink, and told you he looked forward to seeing you that evening. Your heart fluttered a bit at his wink; it felt nice to have someone interested in you again, someone to flirt with.

You went home and started getting ready for your date. Even though you were just going to his dorm for dinner, you still opted to dress up. You chose a floral halter-style maxi dress since it was warm outside. You wore a pair of gold gladiator-style sandals with it. You usually wore your hair up in a loose bun for work, but tonight, you decided to wear it down in its natural state, which was shoulder-length and wavy. You put on some foundation, eyeliner, mascara, and a tinted lip balm. Before you left, you sat down on your couch.

The nerves were starting to settle in. This was your first date since Kento passed away, and even though you felt comfortable around Shouta, you still felt very nervous as you didn't know what to expect tonight. You haven't opened up to a man in years, and you were scared of being vulnerable. And what if he wanted to kiss you at the end of the date? Would you kiss him back? Your nerves and all of this inner turmoil was beginning to make you feel slightly nauseous. Should you back out of the date, saying you weren't feeling well? No, it was already 6:00pm; he was probably cooking for the two of you.

You went back into your bedroom and pulled up the picture of you and Kento you had on your nightstand. "Oh, Kento..." you tearfully said to the picture while trailing its frame with your finger. "Would you be happy for me? You would want me to try and move on, wouldn't you?" Not long after that, you had an overwhelming feeling wash over you; a feeling of calmness and peace. What was this feeling? You looked down at the picture again, looked at Kento's smiling face, and smiled down at the picture. "Thank you, Kento." Instead of putting the picture back on the nightstand where it stood alone, you put it on top of your dresser, where you had many other framed pictures of family and friends. It was time to move forward.

By that time, it was around 6:45pm, so you grabbed your phone, purse, and keys. You got into your car, and started your drive over to Heights Alliance where Shouta resided. When you arrived at the campus, it was exactly ten minutes later. You parked your car, walked towards the gate, and saw a buzzer system where it permitted you access to the campus. You found Shouta's name, pressed the button, where he issued you access and the gate opened up. "What a good security system," you thought to yourself, thinking of the safety of both the students and staff, especially after all the attacks you've been reading about lately.

You walked up the stairs into the staff campus, and eventually came across the door that had the same number as the buzzer system. You lightly knocked on the door, and heart footsteps approaching the door. Shouta opened the door, and gave you a smile, "wow. You look absolutely beautiful, I feel underdressed." You gave him a small laugh, "oh stop, you look great yourself." And he did. He wore his usual black attire, but this time, there was no scarf and he had his hair back in a low ponytail, which really emphasized his nice jawline and collarbone.

"Come on in, dinner is almost ready. Can I get you a glass of wine in the meantime?" "Sure!" you replied, "anything I can help you with?" "Nope! You just sit and relax, and it will all be ready soon." He poured you a glass of white wine, and motioned for you to sit on the couch in the living area. You looked around his dorm; there wasn't much decor; it was actually rather simple looking. Based on what little you knew about Shouta, though, that seemed to be quite fitting for him. He then came into the living area and announced that dinner was ready. You followed him into the dining area, and looked at the display of food he had set out on the table.

"Wow Shouta, this all looks delicious." He made baked chicken, roasted potatoes, roasted asparagus, and had side salads with crumbled bleu cheese, glazed pecans with some sort of vinaigrette dressing. "Thank you," he replied, "I'm not much of a cook, but I wanted to make something nice for you." You looked down at your feet and blushed at his statement, quietly saying, "that's kind of you." You both sat down and started digging in; the food was as delectable as it looked. You both sat in a comfortable silence while eating, taking sips of your wine every so often.

Once you were finished with dinner, after him continuously refusing, he finally allowed you to help him clean up; you washed the dishes while he dried them and put them away. After cleaning up, he suggested that you both grab your glasses of wine and make your way back to the living area so you could sit down, talk, and get to know each other better.

******

To be continued...

******

Tag list: @lili-pond ; @jaguarthecat ; @big-denki-energy ; @ivydoesit23 ; @salientseraph ; @dreamofkaty ; @simp-hub ; @bluebreadenthusiast

#aizawa shota #aizawa #shota aizawa #eraserhead #aizawa shouta #bnha shouta aizawa #mha aizawa #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa #aizawa shota x you #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #bnha aizawa #shota aizawa x female reader #shota aizawa x reader

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edutainer2022 · 3 months ago

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So, there's another piece to this story, set after Jeff's return, I've been tinkering with over the week, dodging missles and blackouts. While the power is up, I'll put it out. There IS more to come. I have high hopes for the long commute to Vienna over the weekend.

Bit One

Bit Two

***

He marginally remembered a quick tender peck on his forehead, or maybe he dreamt it up, conflating the endless years of longing for his mother and for his wife even before that. The scent of his eldest's aftershave, laced with a familiar wiff of One's fumes, lingered and calmed him down. He came to think of it as home and hope over the past months. Jeff next woke up to an anxious face of a different son.

John's hologram practically vibrated with anguish, bouncing on the bedside comm unit. Eyes wide and wild, John looked all too much like an Alan Jeff last remembered - eight years old and left at the Warton boarding school for the very first time.

"Dad!!! What's going on!?!! Are you alright?!!!"

Jeff's headache still didn't agree with the yell, audible practically from orbit. He didn't master much but an incoherent grumble to that.

"Somebody called 911 to the TI Conference Room for Mr. Tracy! I can't get through to Scott's comm! You were supposed to have a meeting first thing today! Are you okay!?"

Words rushed and stumbled one over the other, so unlike John's usually impeccable, professionally honed articulation. It took an extra moment for John to compute Dad's state of underdress - a testament in and of itself of the ginger's distress.

"Dad? Are you still in bed?"

Awareness was catching up with him and with it the heavy drag of gravity and dread. His ginger spaceman was still faster on the uptake, his own overwhelming horror finally pinned on a name:

"SCOTT!!!"

TBC

#methinks i have astronomy #thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #scott tracy needs his dad #jeff tracy goes soul searching #john tracy didn't sign up for this #my fic #jeff tracy

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fefe-the-cat · 3 months ago

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Tips for Going to See Broadway Shows

Wednesday matinees are usually cheaper than other shows.

You can buy tickets to see previews. The procedure is basically the same as seeing the show post opening night. They may skip over some scenes but when I went to see a show in previews, they didn’t. Previews are like dress rehearsals.

Don’t be afraid to communicate your needs to the staff. I went to see The Outsiders yesterday and I was very anxious and overwhelmed. Everyone in the theater (staff, audience, cast, crew, EVERYONE) was so supportive and helpful.

Lottery tickets usually only cost about $30-50 (Hamilton has a $10 lottery) but they are a little bit risky. You don’t get to choose your seat and if you win a ticket you you have to make sure that you can get there on short notice so don’t enter the lottery if you’re not sure you can.

A lot of Broadway shows are on tour before, during, and after their runs in New York. If you want to see a show, but you can’t get to Broadway, you can always wait for the show to be a little bit closer to you. Many shows also perform internationally and have runs simultaneously in many locations, so don’t lose hope if you can’t get to Manhattan.

The dress code is basically nonexistent. Don’t worry too much about underdressing. Wear something you can walk in.

New York is actually pretty easy to navigate. Most of the street names are just numbers and it’s pretty grid like so you always know about how far you are from where you need to be.

There are no bad seats. Theaters are usually small enough that you can always see and hear the occurrences on stage. Orchestra is better for capturing details, but no matter where you sit, it’ll be great.

#theatre #musical theatre #broadway

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givethemsmut · 6 months ago

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Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Seventeen | Where It All Started…

Dom brought me straight the WWE medical team, standing by my side with his arms folded up against his chest. The news stayed the same, I had lost the baby and the numbness I felt was overwhelming.

Maybe it was the pills they gave me helping to ease the pain but either way I felt far away.

Once the doctor confirmed, wrote some more prescriptions for more meds, Dom showed me to the Judgement Day bus. He had promos and damage control for being out.

“WWE scrapped the idea with Randy. Now I gotta find out what I’m doing. Doc said to take it easy so stay here, in bed. I’ll be back to check on you.” He said that before kissing my forehead and leaving me there.

Brushing off the clear worry across his face I got underdressed, crawling under the covers, and clamping my eyes down closed as the cramps kept pounding through me. The voices bullied me until I fell asleep finally.

Reaching for the bottle of pills before even reaching for my phone I swallowed two whole without any water.

Unlocking my phone I saw the texts from Dominik clouding my notifications when I read each one carefully.

Dom: Don’t watch RAW until I can talk to you.

Dom: Please just listen to me. I’ll explain later.

Dom: Text me when you wake up.

Dom: It’s too much to text. They want to do a storyline with Liv now that Rhea is out on injury. I’ll explain more later, I promise.

Dropping my phone down on the bed, searching for the remote, and flicking on the TV to RAW just like Dom advised me to not watch. It was just starting when I watched Liv in the middle of the ring with her title belt.

My phone buzzed and I saw his name come across the screen again.

Dom: I’m about to go out. It’s just a storyline. I’ll explain. Call me when you’re up.

I ignored his message and let all of my attention focus on the TV when Dom rushed out towards the stage trying to get a word in edgewise but couldn’t. The crowd was too loud shouting “you suck” for him to even defend himself.

Climbing the ring, toe-to-toe with Liv, she backed him into a corner. Caressing his face and hair I sat up straighter. It’s just a storyline echoed in my head but none of that mattered when you’re forced to watch it.

“I want everything Rhea has,” she almost had melody to her voice before Finn interrupted them.

I was glued to RAW, not daring to take my eyes off it and ignoring every call of Dom’s. He was ring side for another match when he slipped out of the ring only to be attacked by Liv’s mouth.

My boyfriend, the father of our child I lost, was kissing Liv for a storyline. The same girl who wanted him before.

Dom had exited the screen and almost a few moments later I got another call. Answering it I put it on speaker phone, letting it sit on the bed, while I debated the silence.

“It’s just a storyline. I have no control over the storyline. I didn’t even kiss her back.” He pleaded for some kind of mercy.

In a shaky whisper I responded, “I just lost our baby. That’s the last thing I need to happen, Dom.”

“Fuck,” was all I heard before the line went silent again.

“I shouldn’t be here, Dom. I thought being close to you would help but it’s not.” I tried not to cry but I couldn’t help it. The small sobs wrecked through my voice.

Hanging up I didn’t wait to exchange goodbyes when I locked the door to the back bedroom on the bus. Hiding next to the bed I sat on the floor crying knowing I had lost our baby.

The knock at the door was loud, forcing my shoulders to jump up to my ears. “Baby, please open the door. Let me explain their plan.”

I ignored him when my phone buzzed. An old WWE friend, not mutual but just someone I clicked with.

CM Punk: Feel like escaping? I heard you’re hiding on some bus.

Me: Dom is trying to break the bedroom door down. Kind of busy.

CM Punk: I can creat a distraction. Gimme me five.

I laughed for the first time in over 24 hours. It felt familiar and comforting.

Yanking the door open I forced myself to look at him. “It’s just a storyline. You know we have to act, not just wrestle. I’m sorry you saw that, I tried to warn you, mi amore. I didn’t want you to see.”

“So it’s okay as long as I don’t see it? Dom. We aren’t just some new couple dating where my feelings are wildly invalidated. We’ve known each other forever, we were starting a family, and that shit is what we would do to hurt each other. Why don’t you get that? I finally gave in and we’re still playing old games.” I said it before grabbing my bag I brought with me and pushing past him.

“Where are you going?” Dom shouted after me but I kept walking. With his long legs it wasn’t hard to catch up to me, grabbing my arm and forcing me back until I collided with him. “Don’t fucking do this. Fans are right there, watching.”

“Watching you, not me. I’m gonna go book a hotel room. I just need some space.” I didn’t know what I needed but space sounded good. The wave of cramps shot through me like an actual bullet when my knees buckles and I grabbed onto Dom.

He held onto me, lowering down and shouting for security to get medical when everything seemed to blur out of focus. It was honestly a relief from trying so hard to fix everything and to give into him the way he wanted.

It felt deserved to just close my eyes and bow down to the pain tearing through me.

I woke up in a hospital hooked up to wires and machines chirping routinely. “Dom?”

I felt his hand before I heard his voice, “I’m right here. There was an infection, they did a procedure but you’re okay now.”

“I can’t have kids again?” I whispered my biggest fear out-loud since the first time we got pregnant.

His chair screamed against the tile floor, getting as close as he could. “They didn’t say that. We won’t know that. You just need to rest.”

“So going back home?” I knew the second the pain brought me to my knees I was going home. My body had freaked out, rejected the happiness and forced me to get all the space I threatened us with.

“For now. You need to rest. You can come back out for Mania babe. My mom is gonna stay with you.”

“I have friends…” We grew up adjunct to WWE, all my friends were mutual friends of Dom, other wrestlers.

“Finn is off before Mania. He can stay with you a few days.” Dom offered and I looked at him like he was kidding. “I have the rotation set up already.”

“Don’t joke. I don’t need babysitters.” I quipped before sitting up and feeling every sore spot come alive.

The nurse interrupted us when she swiftly got to my side and took my vitals. “We’ll discharge you tomorrow with everything you need. Cramping and bleeding are normal. Make sure you take your pain medication and call us if it exceeds the dosage.”

I took in every word. “When can we try again? When is it safe?”

The nurse’s face dropped and I wanted to crawl inside myself. “Sweetie, let your body heal first.”

Dom handed me my bag after she left and I rummaged through it for the pain pills. Swallowing them whole I pushed my earbuds in and drowned out the world. Everything felt broken inside of just me and I didn’t know how to handle that.

#dom mysterio #wwe fanfiction #fanfic #wwe #fanfiction #dom mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio fanfic #dom mysterio fanfic #dominik mysterio x reader

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