#probably not doing as much pickup work

[swan2swan]

Going back in, I guess.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[elodieunderglass]

Despite not being an expert on social etiquette he was certain that asking pretty girls if they were secretly horses was considered a faux pas.

Albert And The Water-Horse

It was a bright grey day, like a dove’s wing, and the surface of the sea was like glass. On a morning such as this, it was easy to forget the treacherous currents just out past the rocks or the out-of-town visitors who had drowned. Locals these days knew where and when to avoid the waters but there was always an outsider who failed to listen.

Albert had no intention of staying long. His obligations in town were sure to be brief and he was already looking forward to returning home. The farm was busy in early spring and his siblings needed him. Besides, the sea held little allure for a man of his nature. His heart belonged to the horses he rode and the green fields that raised him.

Even he could not deny the beauty of the day, however, as he strolled along the cliff path. He sang in a pleasant tenor, honed by many years of church hymns, enjoying thoroughly the experience of nobody interrupting him. The friend he was staying with was, he would grudgingly admit, dear to him but he had a teething baby and Albert’s patience only went so far.

Albert saw a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he found his song dying in his mouth. He stared down at a white horse trotting brightly along the stony beach below him. Albert was no mean judge of horseflesh and even from this distance he could see that this was a magnificent creature. It clearly belonged to someone – a silver chain gleamed around its neck - but it was unattended. As he looked, it tossed its head and sent a strand of seaweed falling from its mane.

Albert looked around for a way down to the beach but there was none. No steps carved in the cliff, no ladder, not even a suitably rocky outcrop where he might scramble hand over hand. He could only stare helplessly at the finest horse he had ever beheld as its nostrils flared and, all at once, it bolted from him. It ran with extraordinary grace. Albert wished he knew whose horse it was and where they planned to race it. You could not have a horse like that and not plan to race it. It would be spitting on a divine gift.

White as an egret’s wing, the horse was a flash of light in the distance before Albert truly had time to think. It was gone, and he stood in silence, wondering who dared let something so beautiful roam so freely.

That night, Albert escaped the raucous little home where he was staying to walk alone on the beach. He told himself that it was merely to get some peace and quiet whilst the baby was settled down but deep inside there was the wild hope that he might spy that horse again. Perhaps it would still be running loose. Perhaps the owner would ride it down by the water.

Instead, as he picked his way over break-ankle ground, he heard music. It was sweet and haunting, a lament that curled out into the sky and seemed to make the stars flicker in sympathy. Almost without meaning to, Albert followed it.

Round a bend in the beach, he saw her: a girl upon the rocks. She was dressed all in white, with silver slippers on her feet and a silver chain around her neck. Her glossy hair was ivory and her skin like marble, her eyes green and cold as malachite. She played the violin with her eyes half-closed. The music seemed to stir the clouds above her and set the little many-legged creatures skittering in the rockpools at her feet. Albert stood, transfixed.

If she had noticed him while playing, she gave no sign but when she at last stopped and lowered her violin, her face showed no surprise to see him standing there.

“I heard you,” she said, and her voice had a sting to it. “On the cliffs this morning. I heard you singing.”

Albert did not ask how she knew it was him. He did not ask why she cared. He did not ask if she was a horse, because despite not being an expert on social etiquette he was certain that asking pretty girls if they were secretly horses was considered a faux pas. Instead, he removed his cap and nodded awkwardly.

“Sing for me,” she commanded.

“If it pleases you.” Albert would do a lot for a pretty face, human or equine. “What shall I sing?”

“Anything.” She dimpled when she smiled. “Everything.”

He sang every song he knew – the church hymns, the old folk songs, the playground ditties, the tunes that crackled from the radio his sister loved so much. All the while, he could not look away from those green eyes. They held him transfixed, drawing richness and timbre from him that his voice has never had before, till the music that rang out over the water was not the singing of a barroom tenor but someone for whom the opera houses of the world should hold open their doors. It was not Albert – he knew that. It was her. Something in her had the power.

When at last the well of music ran dry, Albert’s throat ached. A fine mist of rain was falling on them both. He was cold to his core but the horse-girl was smiling.

“You should go,” she said. “Back to dry land. The tide will be coming in.”

Albert glanced down at the wavelets lapping at the toes of his boots. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” When she smiled this time, he could see the glint of teeth a little too sharp to be human. “Run, before you are drowned.”

Albert stayed stubbornly put. “Will I see you again?”

“Tomorrow.” Her green eyes flashed. “If you are brave.”

She stepped down from her rock. As soon as her toe touched the water, she dissolved into seafoam. The mass of her bubbled and boiled at Albert’s startled feet until all at once she grew again, the gleaming white horse with the mad green eyes, rearing up to strike his chest with silver hooves, before she turned and fled into the waves from which she came. Albert picked himself up off the ground, squeezing saltwater out of his cap, and splashed thoughtfully back to the protective wall that kept the encroaching tide from swallowing the little town whole.

He was no fool. He knew what became of mortals who tangled with the water-horses and their ilk. But she had not drowned him, had not eaten him up and let his liver float to the surface. Albert was not afraid. He knew he would be back.

The very next night, sure enough, he found the water-horse once again sitting on her rock with her violin resting in her lap.

“Aren’t you afraid,” she asked him, “that I will eat you?”

“Aren’t you afraid,” he replied, “that I will bring an iron poker to stab you?”

“I could smell the iron on you if you had it,” she said loftily. “You would never know I was about to bite until I did.”

Albert agreed that that was true. “Bite me if you will. I want to know your name.”

The girl laughed. “You could never speak my name. It is this.”

She made a sound like the shushing of water over smooth sand, the delicate whisper of a tide coming in at the end of the day.

“My name is Albert.”

“Albert.” She wrinkled her pretty nose. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” Albert admitted. “It means I am the eldest of my siblings, I suppose.”

“I have ten thousand siblings,” the water-horse confessed, “and I am neither older nor younger than any of them.”

“You must never be lonely.” Albert reflected on his own siblings, on the chaos of a small home crowded with people. “Maybe not lonely enough sometimes.”

She watched him as though waiting for a trap to spring. “There are millions of us. Everywhere a wave breaks, we are born. The little foals on the sandy beaches with the shallow tides. The great stallions where the surf rises higher than your people can build walls to trap it. The holy ones born where the deadening waves crash, where the herd runs as one to swallow the land.”

“Are they all your herd?” Albert asked.

The water-horse shook her pretty head. “Our herd is the bay. We run and run upon this beach, against these rocks. I ran here before the town came, so long ago, but I do not remember it well.”

“Why not?”

“There was nothing to remember. We run, we crash, we ebb and flow. What was there to watch but the birds?” She lifted her violin, evidently done with conversation. “I will sing for you now. It is my turn.”

Her voice was sweet and true, the language that of coral reefs and darting fish. She played sunlight on water and sang the swooping, diving gulls. She played shells forming great chalk cliffs and sang the waves sending them crashing down again. The longer Albert stood and listened, the less he seemed to be there at all. He was a pebble spun in the water, washed clean, ground smooth, adrift in the vastness of the ocean.

When silence fell, the moon was low in the sky. Hours had somehow passed. Albert shivered and pulled his jacket a little closer around him.

“You are cold.” The water-horse sounded troubled. “I have never been cold.”

“It will pass. You sing beautifully.”

“Yes.” She did not seem interested in that. “How does it feel, to be cold?”

Albert was not a man much given to flights of poetry. The question stumped him.

“It hurts,” he said, at last. “A sharp sort of hurt.”

The water-horse nodded solemnly as if he had imparted great wisdom.

“How does it feel,” Albert asked in return, “to run in the water like you do?”

“But that I can show you,” she replied. “If you ride on my back, you can see for yourself.”

Albert’s heart was in his mouth. “I would like that.”

“You truly are not afraid of me?” she wondered.

“I have never been afraid of horses.”

She laughed softly. “Do not fall. I cannot save you if you fall.”

She was magnificent transformed, as if sculpted from ivory by someone intent on portraying all that a horse should be. In awe, Albert ran his hand down her neck. He felt the coiled power in those muscles, the stillness where a pulse should beat. She nudged his shoulder with her proud head, urging him on.

With the rock as a mounting block, it was no hardship for Albert to swing onto her back. He wound his fingers into her sand-laden mane. He gripped his thighs tight against her wet glossy coat. He clung on for all he was worth, and his water-horse ran.

She ran fleet as the wind, faster than any ship, faster than any horse Albert had had the privilege to ride, out across the bay. Her hooves churned the sea into a drenching white wake. The salt spray in Albert’s eyes blinded him. When he dared to tilt his head back, he saw the stars racing by, wheeling in their constellations as they galloped in spirals, a grand carousel. Albert had never felt a gait so smooth, a pace so swift. Never had he had to fight so hard to stay on a broad back than now, muscles tight, hanging on by willpower alone. The sea below was dark and foreboding, black as ice on the road. He dared not risk falling.

A rocky outcrop approached too fast, jagged knives of stone protruding. Albert screwed his eyes up tight and braced for a swerve that never came. There was the sensation, for a moment, of strength and then… He opened his eyes as they drifted through the air, flung from a breaking wave, high over the rocks and glittering amongst the freezing spume. Albert threw back his head and whooped to the silent sky. His water-horse whinnied too as they crashed down into the water, plunging below till only Albert’s iron-tight grip on her mane kept him from being ripped clean away from her.

They broke the surface again to coast on the gathering waves. One bore them in, gentle as a leaf in a stream, spitting them out onto the slope of the beach. The water-horse never lost her stride for a moment, slowing to a trot and finally stopping back beside the rock where they had begun. Albert was so cold he could barely speak. Even as he slid from her back, he could not untangle his frozen fingers from her mane. His teeth chattered but his heart sang, his blood thrilled.

She changed form even as he held her, her mane becoming flowing hair, the warm strength of her shoulder supporting him becoming her small body, helping him down to sit upon the rock. She was still strong this way, all the power of her horse-form crushed into something so tiny and frail that it was a miracle her bones didn’t burst under the strain. She laughed the whole time, eyes dancing. She seemed to glow.

“I can feel your heartbeat,” she teased. “You are scared of me now.”

“I’m scared of hypothermia,” Albert grumbled but he couldn’t make his eyebrows frown. “I could never be scared of you.”

“Can people get so cold they die of it?” she asked. “I didn’t know.”

“I won’t die,” he promised, fighting to get his chattering teeth under control.

“You can let go now.” Her voice was softer, her fingers caressing the wrist of the hand that still held tight a lock of her hair.

“I don’t think I can.”

She unwound his fingers for him, prising them open. She held his hand like it was a foreign thing, tracing the veins, exploring the minute flaws in the skin. Her own skin was unnaturally smooth to the touch. Her lips, when she turned her head to kiss his palm, were powder-soft. Her open mouth gave off no heat but her teeth were razor sharp when she bit down hard.

Albert flinched but did not pull away. He held that wild green gaze even as he felt her fangs scrape against the bone and his hand throb in pain. She released him, drawing back slowly, cradling his wrist. Her pointed tongue darted out to lick the blood from the wound. Her eyes closed in satisfaction.

“Salt,” she said. “Just a little bit of ocean in you.”

“Is this the part,” Albert asked, “where you eat me alive?”

“Not yet.” She tasted his blood again. “I’m not ready yet.”

She dropped his hand suddenly and turned her face away. Albert, on the brink of leaning in to kiss her, was left with nowhere to go as she slid to the edge of the rock.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked, but the girl was already a horse once more, galloping into the sea, splashing him with her tail.

Albert made his slow way back to his friend’s house, nursing his bleeding hand, unsure why he wasn’t angry that she had done it. Perhaps the thrill of that wild ride still had him in its grip and nothing else could matter. Perhaps it was simply that he had never doubted she would not kill him.

The next night, his hand bandaged, Albert made his way back down to the beach. He found his water-horse waiting for him, sitting on the rocks and playing a merry air on her violin. She smiled as he approached, teeth bared, dimples on show. Albert did not hesitate to sit down beside her, ignoring the leeching cold of the stone beneath him.

“You came back,” she said.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He placed his hand over hers. “I am not afraid of you.”

She plucked a single note and set her violin aside. “You are not from here, are you? I had not heard your voice before the other day.”

Albert shook his head. “I’m from a long way south of here, inland. My family, we have a farm. We race horses.”

“Do you have a big family?” There was a note of longing in her voice.

“Not by your standards, maybe. Not an easy family either.” Albert grinned at the thought of his young sister. “A family that’s nothing but black sheep, if I’m honest with you.”

“What does that mean? Black sheep?”

“Oddities,” Albert explained. “Strange types. Lawbreakers.”

“Lawbreakers…” The water-horse fingered the silver chain around her neck. “Do you break laws, Albert?”

He admitted somewhat sheepishly that he did. The water-horse, if anything, seemed pleased by this idea.

“We do not have laws but we do have…ways that things are supposed to be.” Her troubled expression cleared. “Tell me more about inland. I’ve never seen it.”

So Albert told her. Once he had started talking, he found it difficult to stop. He told her about his siblings, about the scrapes he and Andrew got into as boys, about Augustine and his temper tantrums, about Alice-Rose dancing in the kitchen to the radio. His gruff love for them shone through all his insistence on their many sins and terrible natures. He told her about the fields of home, the turning of the seasons, the birds coming home to roost. He told her about hedgerows and vegetable patches and somehow, bathed in her enthusiasm for it all, even the tiresome chores took on a romantic glow.

And he told her about the horses. Oh yes, he told her about the horses. Every member of the little herd, every one who had ever passed through their gates, every point and foible of each. He told her about racetracks, about breeders and trainers and owners, about the place where he was utterly and entirely himself. Running. Free. With every word, he missed it more. He had been away nearly a week. He ached for home.

Through it all, the water-horse listened with rapt attention. She hung on his every word. Her green eyes glowed like stars.

“I wish I could see it.” Somehow, she had ended up pressed against his side, her head on his shoulder. “I have never been beyond this beach in all my life and I never shall. I should like to see the barley grow, just once. You shall leave soon and I shall not even hear about it then.”

“Come home with me,” Albert urged. “Let me show you everything.”

“I cannot.” She sat up, eyes fixed on the horizon. “I belong to my family and the water that made me.”

“Why?” Albert held her pretty little chin in his rough hands, turning her face to look at him once more. “Must you stay with them forever? Will they not let you go if you want it?”

Her tears had no salt in them. They were pure as snowmelt. “What I want does not matter. It is what I am.”

“It matters to me.”

The kiss tasted of brine. Her hands shook only a little more than Albert’s.

“Can you not outgrow them?” Albert demanded. “Are you never to leave the herd? Must you always be what they tell you you are?”

“Yes.” She kissed him again. “Yes, they would be so angry, you cannot know…you cannot imagine! I have a duty to my kin.”

Albert, on another day, might have understood but on that night all he knew was the horse-girl in his arms and the tears in her eyes. He did not want to let her go.

“Marry me.” He did not mean to say it until he already had. The moment it fell off his tongue he felt the rightness of it. “Be my wife. Let me take you away. You will have new kin, new duties. They cannot stop that, can they?”

“I am not human!” she protested. “I am not a woman.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

“There is not a church in the land that will marry us!”

“Is there one in the sea?” Albert clutched her close. “There are ways round everything, if you know who to ask.”

She clung to him, cold arms around his neck, face pressed against his cheek. He held her tight, the frailty of her, the strength, the sea-cold power and the ephemeral foam.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered against his ear. “Tomorrow, my beloved. Join me in the water. Grab hold of my bridle and don’t let go. Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

With a final kiss, she slipped from his arms and into the sea. Albert reached up to stroke, for a moment, the muscular neck of the most magnificent horse he had ever seen. She lowered her dished head to him solemnly, the fire in her eyes banked, before she turned and fled, dissolving into the waves.

The final night of his stay in the north, Albert went out to the beach again to collect his bride. He wore his strongest boots and a rose in his buttonhole. There was no girl waiting for him on the rocks this time. Albert felt a prickle of doubt but he pressed on. She had said to join her in the water and so he would. The sea was still that night, flat under a moonless sky. Weak currents tugged at his feet, leading him on.

The water was a shock of ice when it first rose above his boots. His feet were numb in seconds. It squeezed like a clamp around his legs, forcing the blood from them, but still Albert waded deeper. Little by little, the numbness spread up his body. When he was above his waist and the shore seemed so very far away behind him, his water-horse at last appeared.

She trotted forward and Albert reached out gratefully for her, twining his fingers into her sandy mane. She rippled and shifted till her girl’s body was there again, his hands in her hair, her eyes full of tears.

“What is it, my love?” He kissed her sweet cold lips. “Why so unhappy?”

“You must go,” she begged. “You must go now.”

“Come with me then!”

“They are waiting, Albert.” She clutched his hand tightly. “They know! They are going to eat you if you try to take me away. You must leave now and not come back.”

“I am not afraid of them.” Albert squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Come with me now and we will leave them all behind. They cannot threaten you.”

She shook her head urgently. “You do not understand. They are listening to everything you say. If I try to leave with you, they will kill you. You have to make it back to the beach. That’s all – just get to the beach and you’ll be safe.”

“What about you?” He tried to meet her eyes even as she avoided his gaze. “Will they hurt you?”

“They are my family. I will survive whatever they do to me.”

“No!” Albert kissed her fiercely. “I will not leave you here alone!”

“Please,” she begged. “They are my herd. They are my kin. I am of the waves. I cannot - I must not – go, I beg of you!”

“I love you.” He caught and held her wild green gaze. “Do you love me? Could you love me?”

She hesitated. She nodded. Her voice broke. “I could love you.”

“Then marry me.”

Albert folded her into his arms. He kissed her delicate mouth. He closed his hand upon the silver chain around her neck and, when she stepped back from him, did not let go. The silver was colder than ice, colder than anything Albert had ever felt. It burned into his palm but still he pulled. The clasp broke.

Suddenly, his water-horse was vast, a whinny screaming from her throat, hooves kicking the air above him before she plunged down into the depths, leaving him alone and trembling in the shallows. The silver chain still hung from his hand but even as he wound it tighter, it grew heavier and colder.

The sea rose around him. The clouds raced across the sky. The waves that had been lapping at the beach began to bite chunks out of it. Before Albert could strike out for the shore, a stallion burst from the water and hit him full in the chest. He was forced below the surface, mouth open in a startled shout. For an instant he grappled with the darkness, all direction lost. Bitter saltwater choked his lungs.

He surfaced, spluttering, only to be felled again by another horse as it flung itself madly at him. Silver hooves trampled. White manes shook. Nostrils flared and green eyes blazed. The silver chain was dead weight now, dragging him down, almost too heavy to keep above the sand of the seafloor.

Albert crawled. He stumbled. He fell to the terrifying weight of the horses, tumbled and tossed, pulled by the current, till it took all his effort to just stay in one place, avoid being swept out to sea. Every time he managed to get his head above the surface, he sucked in air only to be knocked down again, lungs screaming in protest, head swimming. The shore seemed so distant. Every now and then, sharp teeth tore at his clothes, nipped at his fingers, taunted him with the moment when they would finally rend flesh from bone and end it all. Still he did not let go of the chain.

Her hands found him, warm and human. Her arms still had the wild strength of the ocean in them. He clung to her and she dragged, spitting and screaming in a language like rock scraping against rock. Her family crashed around them, over them. He choked for air. He coughed up water. He felt sure that his arm would be ripped from its socket, that his hand would be torn from his wrist and sink into the sea with the terrible chain.

But there was the beach ahead. The sand turned to pebbles beneath his scrabbling hands. There was the rocky incline and his bride pulling him up, pulling him forward, as the horses dashed themselves recklessly against the rocks around them.

“The tide!” she shouted. “They will bring the tide!”

The water was climbing higher and higher around them, swallowing up the beach, trying to cut them off from the protective seawall ahead. She battled through it, screaming and begging, never letting go of his arm. The chain pointed like a compass needle out to sea, drawn by its own strange magnetism towards the horizon. It was all Albert could do to move an inch or two at a time. The cold was in his aching bones. His lungs seemed stiff in his chest, frozen solid, unable to draw breath, even as the sea retreated, even as he found himself staggering on dry land towards the rusty rickety ladder that would see them safely onto solid ground.

“They’re giving up,” he gasped out, but she only shook her head, dragging him on.

By the time they made it to the ladder, the wind was strong enough to blow branches from nearby trees. Albert risked a glance over his shoulder – and saw, at last, what his bride was so afraid of. A vast wall of water, clear as glass, and above it the foaming, churning madness of the herd, running as one.

“We weren’t fast enough.” She bent his failing fingers around the rusty ladder. “Hold on.”

The hand that clutched the chain could not be persuaded to grip anything. Albert had barely hooked his thumb around a strut before the sea hit him in the back and all was noise.

Albert clung. He felt the chain rip his skin. He felt the bones of his hand break. He felt his lungs fill up with water. He felt the hooves of the herd on his back, his head, his limbs. He could not let go. He would not let her go. He held on tight as the current ripped past him, through him, drowning him; as his broken bones screamed in white-hot pain; as his sturdy boots were torn from his feet by the sheer strength of the water.

The waves broke – and ebbed. The horses were sucked back from the beach. Albert reeled, half-blind, the world spinning and fractured. He scarcely knew with what strength he was climbing the ladder save the relentless pull of his bride’s arms, dragging him to safety. He collapsed onto solid stone just as a second wave hit. They reared up above him, tossed on the spray, blinding white and screaming, but they could not reach him now.

There was silence on the beach. The sea was a dead calm. The wind died away to a gentle breeze. The silver chain, wound so tight around Albert’s broken hand, now weighed nothing at all. Every part of him hurt. The world span in doubles around him. He knelt on the ground and hacked up a lungful of water, coughing and retching till only bile remained. He fell back, flat, staring at the uncaring sky. When he raised his shaking hand above him, he could see hoofprint bruises on his arm, as if he had lain down on the racetrack to be trampled.

But there she was, his bride, his water-horse. No longer was her skin marble but flesh, living and real, flush with blood beneath the surface. No longer were her eyes the madness of the deep water but grey-green, sparkling, human. When she reached out to him, fell laughing, sobbing, against him, he felt her warmth, her solidity, her personhood. He folded her in his arms as she wept freshwater tears into his chest.

“We’re safe.” His voice crackled wetly in his throat. “We’re safe, my love.”

“Stupid, stupid!” She sat up, face blotchy, hair a mess. “I told you they would hurt you! I told you to save yourself!”

“I’ll live.” He reached out to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “How about you? Will you live?”

She nodded, blowing her nose. “Like a mortal woman.”

It took all Albert’s strength to force himself upright. He knew broken ribs when he felt them. He was sure, too, that one eye would be too swollen to see through within the hour. But he sat up nonetheless because how else was he to kiss his little wife?

“I will take you home with me in the morning. You will be happy. I promise.”

“Won’t your people mind?” She seemed, for the first time, shy. “A wife with no name and no family?”

“Catherine is a good name.” Albert chose at random. “I have family enough for the both of us.”

“Catherine…” She weighed it on her tongue. “Catherine….Catherine…”

“Mrs Catherine Tiernan.” Albert laughed suddenly. “I never told you my family name.”

“I didn’t know humans had those,” Catherine admitted. “They will not think I’m strange?”

“They will not mind that you are strange.” Albert caressed her cheek. “My little love, you have nothing to fear.”

They sat there in the cold night till Albert felt strong enough to stand. He limped, his arm around his bride, down into the town, watching the blisters of frozen flesh where the chain had bitten deep turn to silver-white scars.

So it was. If the Tiernan family thought its newest member anything other than fully human, they never passed comment on it. The silver chain sat in an old jewellery box belonging to Albert’s mother, tucked safe at the back of a little drawer where nobody could stumble upon it. It never tarnished. Albert took it out occasionally, lay the links over the scar they had left and tried to remember the weight of it, the dreadful pull of the current. It was still a little colder than it should be. No matter how long he held it, it was never warmed by his skin.

Catherine never went near the sea again. She thrived, his tiny wife, on the farm, blessed him with a son and heir – and more besides. She delighted in the horses, in the barley growing in fields around the village, in the birds of the hedgerows and the songs that they sang. If she regretted her choice of husband, she never said so. But sometimes when the wind was blowing cold from the faraway coast, she sat on the steps outside and played her violin with notes so sweet and aching that Albert’s heart broke just to hear her and he would swear, if only for a moment, he could smell saltwater in the air.

---

I just really liked the idea of the horse-bride. I thought it was whimsical, and the mysterious Catherine Tiernan reminded me a lot of my great-great-grandmother Catherine, who was also a tiny Irishwoman who married an older man against cultural taboos, was a brilliant musician, and would absolutely have eaten a man alive if she was given the opportunity. This isn't my best work but I'm tentatively pleased with it and my therapist says that Killie-fangirling is actually good for me so I guess this is medically necessary fanfiction. It's the middle of the night and I haven't edited this. I'm really crossing my fingers and praying there aren't any glaring mistakes.

[cameronsbabydoll]

ex!husband!rafe baby trapping you… again

warnings: manipulation, baby trapping, rafe being arrogant and condescending, explicit content 18+

wc: 1,643 — a/n: i went a little crazy with this but i’m kinda obsessed with ex!husband!rafe

you pull into the driveway of rafe’s ostentatious mansion, tires crunching on the pristine gravel, and already you’re irritated. the place is a monument to his ego—towering columns, a fountain that probably cost more than your car, and those floor-to-ceiling windows that scream look at me. it’s sunday, 6 p.m., and your son’s supposed to be packed and ready for pickup. except the house looks dead quiet—no little boy barreling out to tackle you with hugs. you grit your teeth, haul yourself out of the car, and stomp up to the door, banging on it with the side of your fist.

it swings open, and there he is—rafe cameron, your ex-husband, the human equivalent of a migraine you can’t shake. he’s leaning against the frame, white dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, showing off that infuriatingly sculpted torso. a glass of whiskey dangles from his fingers, ice clinking as he swirls it, and his lips twitch into that smug, lopsided grin that makes you want to slap him—or worse, kiss him.

“well, well,” he drawls, voice dripping with condescension. “look who’s gracing my doorstep. early, too. miss me that much, sweetheart?”

you glare, arms crossing tight over your chest. “where’s our son, rafe? don’t play games with me.”

he takes a slow, deliberate sip of his whiskey, letting the silence hang heavy just to mess with you. “oh, him? yeah, he’s at a sleepover. didn’t i mention that?” his brows lift, feigning innocence, but the glint in his eyes says he planned this down to the second.

“no, you didn’t,” you snap, voice rising. “you purposely didn’t, you manipulative—”

“easy, easy,” he cuts in, stepping aside with a lazy wave of his hand. “no need to storm off. come in. i’ve got dinner.”

you should turn around. you know you should. but then you smell it—garlic, rich tomato sauce, the unmistakable aroma of your favorite italian takeout from that little spot downtown you used to drag him to. your stomach betrays you with a growl, and rafe’s smirk widens, like he’s already won.

“got your usual,” he says, voice low and coaxing, stepping closer until you can feel the heat radiating off him. “figured you’d be starving after all that… hard work you do.”

it’s a dig—he’s always loved reminding you how “cute” your post-divorce life is compared to his empire of excess. you clench your jaw, but your feet move anyway, carrying you past the threshold. one dinner. that’s it. then you’re gone.

the takeout’s laid out on his ridiculous marble island, a spread that’s way too much for two people—pasta, bruschetta, tiramisu, the works. he pours you a glass of wine without asking, sliding it across the counter with a smug, “whiskey’s too harsh for you, princess. stick to what you know.”

you roll your eyes but take it, sipping just to prove a point. he’s lounging across from you, shirt still half-open, watching you eat like it’s a damn performance. one glass becomes two, then three, and soon you’re tipsy, the room softening around the edges. he’s telling some story about a client overpaying for a yacht, his voice all smooth and mocking, and you’re laughing despite yourself—because he’s still got that stupid charm that hooked you years ago.

“see?” he says, leaning closer, his knee brushing yours under the counter. “you’re always better off here. loosen up a little.”

his hand grazes your wrist when he refills your glass, lingering just long enough to send a shiver up your spine. you should pull away. you don’t. the wine’s buzzing in your veins, and he’s looking at you like you’re prey he’s been stalking for months—smug, hungry, knowing. before you can process it, he’s rounding the counter, tugging you off the stool with that effortless strength that always made you weak.

“c’mere,” he murmurs, voice dropping an octave, and then you’re in his arms, stumbling toward the master bedroom like it’s inevitable.

the bedroom’s all rafe—dark wood, crisp white sheets, a king-sized bed that’s probably worth more than your mortgage. he’s got you pinned against it in seconds, mouth crashing into yours, all teeth and heat and desperation. his hands roam everywhere—up your sides, gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt to yank it over your head with a rough, “off. now.”

you’re too far gone to fight it, hands fumbling with his shirt buttons until he just rips it open himself, smirking down at you like he’s doing you a favor. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he mutters against your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point. “always so needy for me, huh?”

“shut up,” you hiss, but it’s weak, and he knows it. his laugh is low and condescending, vibrating against your skin as he kisses down your collarbone, hands shoving your jeans down with zero patience. he’s pressing you back onto the bed, climbing over you, all broad shoulders and whiskey breath, and you hate how much you want this.

“look at you,” he says, voice thick with arrogance as he settles between your thighs, one hand pinning your wrists above your head. “divorced me, moved out, and you’re still right back here. couldn’t stay away, could you?”

you glare up at him, but he just grins, dragging his free hand down your stomach, slow and deliberate, until he’s pressing hard against your lower abdomen. “gonna give me another one,” he murmurs, eyes dark and locked on yours. “you’re mine, always will be.”

there’s no condom in sight—he doesn’t even pretend to reach for one—and you don’t stop him, too caught up in the heat of his mouth on yours, the way he’s kissing you like he owns you. he’s rough, relentless, sliding into you with a groan that’s pure smug satisfaction, like he’s proving a point. “fuck, you feel good,” he breathes, hips snapping against yours, deep and possessive. “knew you’d come running back.”

his hand stays on your stomach, pressing down just enough to make you gasp, and he smirks against your lips. “gonna fill you up, princess. make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.” he’s going harder now, all control and condescension, whispering filthy praise in your ear—“so fucking perfect for me,” “gonna look so good carrying my kid again,”—until you’re a trembling mess beneath him, clinging to his shoulders as he pushes you over the edge.

he follows right after, burying himself deep with a low, “that’s it, take it,” and you’re too blissed out to care about the consequences, lost in the haze of him—his weight, his scent, his infuriating victory.

—

you wake up alone, sheets tangled around your legs, head throbbing like a drum. the room’s too quiet, and there’s a note on the nightstand in rafe’s sloppy handwriting: “work called. coffee’s in the kitchen. you’re welcome. — r” you groan, rolling over to bury your face in the pillow, cursing yourself for last night. how does he always do this?

you drag yourself to his stupidly huge shower—marble, rainfall heads, the works—muttering about his overpriced body wash and the fact that you’re even here. you dig through his closet after, finding that old sundress of yours shoved in the back—floral, faded, a ghost of your pre-divorce life. it barely fits, clinging to your hips, and you hate how it makes you feel soft for him all over again.

you’re stomping around his mansion now, checking your son’s room—his little clothes are neat, toys in place, and it only fuels your grumbling. “fucking rafe,” you mutter, glaring at that gaudy gold lamp in the hall. “thinks he’s so fancy with his dumb rich-guy shit.” you don’t know he’s watching—sprawled in his office chair downtown, feet up, smirking at his phone as the security feed catches every word. he zooms in on you tugging at the dress, muttering about his “pretentious bullshit,” and he chuckles to himself. “still feisty,” he says, sipping his coffee. “love that about you.”

you leave in a huff, determined to put last night behind you. work’s a blur—meetings, emails, pretending you’re not replaying every second of rafe’s hands on you—and by the time you pull into your driveway, your cozy little house feels like a sanctuary. until you see him.

rafe’s leaning against his range rover, parked right in your spot, arms crossed, a handful of designer shopping bags at his feet. he’s in a crisp polo now, looking every bit the smug bastard he is, and that grin’s back—wide, knowing, maddening.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you snap, slamming your car door so hard it echoes.

he doesn’t flinch, just straightens up, sauntering over with the bags. “brought a little something for our newest addition.” he nudges the bags toward you—chanel onesies, a prada blanket, a tiny leather jacket that’s absurdly expensive. “gotta start ‘em young, right?”

your heart stops. “what are you talking about?”

he steps closer, crowding you against your car, voice dropping to that slow, patronizing drawl. “c’mon, sweetheart. you’re late, aren’t you? two weeks, by my count. don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

you freeze, mind spinning. the dates line up—last night, the wine, the no-condom recklessness—and your stomach twists. he sees it, the realization dawning, and his smirk turns downright triumphant.

“yep,” he says, popping the p like an asshole, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “guess i still got it. you and me? we’re a package deal, princess.” he leans in, lips grazing your ear as he whispers, “should’ve known you’d never really leave.”

you want to shove him, scream, anything—but he’s already strolling past you, bags in hand, letting himself into your house like it’s his. “where should i put these?” he calls over his shoulder, all casual arrogance. “nursery’s upstairs, right?”

and the worst part? you’re standing there, keys dangling uselessly, wondering how he’s still got you wrapped around his finger—and if you even mind.

[glamourscat]

Can I please request things batboys + Bruce does when they have fallen in love with someone? Things they do for their crush, hinting their feelings etc.?

୨ৎ Batboys + Bruce and what are they like when they have fallen in love ୨ৎ

A/N: when i think about them and having a crush, i always imagine them having a crush on someone they work with or are very close friend with.

──── ୨୧ ─────

DICK 

The worst out of the bunch in hiding his feelings

When he realises he is probably the most chill out of batboys

If his crush is also a vigilante he might pull some strings to patrol with them

His love is loud. There’s no other way of putting it. Thing is, Dick is just so loveable with everyone, most of the time at least. 

He is never shy to let others know how much he cares for them. So, at first you might think he is just being his usual self, just a bit more energetic

Then you pick up on the small things

Like his touch lasting just a bit longer than usual. Him being more protective. Him being around you more. Laughing at your jokes even when they are terrible

How would he hint his feelings? Easy. Terrible cheesy pickup lines, EYE CONTACT, like intense. More touchy than usual, hugs, ruffling hair, nudges… 

──── ୨୧ ─────

JASON

If Dick is the worst at keeping his feelings a secret, jason is the best

Truly you won’t know a thing unless you’re extremely good at reading body language

I imagine him, realising he has a crush, and gaslighting himself into believing he doesn’t

Then something happens, maybe someone flirts with you or simply you seek him out specifically for something you could have gone to anyone else, but you choose him, and he realises he is gone.

At first he might even distance himself and you’re like “what have i done?” because genuinely it’s like a switch happened

But when he comes to terms with his feelings I think his love would be more noticeable on the outside than inside. What I mean is that others would be more prone to pick up on his crush than you. 

He would sit besides you on the couch, thighs touching and everyone is like.. Jason? Allowing you in his personal space? Interesting

Would pay attention to the little things. You said you are cold? Here, his jacket is strangely flying on your shoulders

Gifts you books that remind him of you, annotated with specific passages. 

He doesn’t give hints, hell, in a way he hopes that you won’t notice how much of a sick idiot in love he has become. But in the hopes you do, well, he is cooked isnt he? ( a oneshot coming out soon) 

──── ୨୧ ─────

TIM

The worst. A mix between jason and dick.

If tim likes you, then you’re his best friend, there’s no other way around it lol. 

He would already be clingy, but when he realises he has a crush there’s two things going in his head:

1) panics. He starts running around his room over analyzing every little detail and trying to understand how, when and why he fall for you

2) goes down a rabbit hole. He will overthink everything he has done recently. Was he too clingy? Did you suspect something? Do you feel the same? 

After absolutely losing it, same tim, he will assess the situation. He is good at reading body language. He knows how to listen and he knows how to talk. He is observant and rest assured he will put his vigilante skills to action. 

He wouldn’t necessarily ask you out if he comes to the conclusion you like him back, i think it will happen randomly. Maybe one night you’re over at his, it’s 3am, he doesn’t have patrol tomorrow and you two are watching a show together. The main characters are having some sort of love emotional shambles, maybe there’s a kiss involved. He looks at you, you look at him. There’s a moment of silence unsure if you two should confess your feelings or laugh. At the end, somehow, his lips are on yours– the show long forgotten– as his cold hands cup your cheeks to deepen the kiss.

──── ୨୧ ─────

BRUCE

intense eye contact

he listens and listens almost as if the sole act of listening to your voice is soothing for him

Gifts. Like this man would just randomly increase his gifts. It wouldn’t be at once, but gradually you started to notice that one rose became 5 and then 10. Chocolates turned into gems.

Would ask you to accompany him at events, which is when you know, he is at least seriously interested. Because events and galas, as much as he is not a fan of them, are important to his image. 

Little subtle touches 

He doesn’t really express things by words if he can avoid it, so you need to be good at picking the subtle signs 

Gifts aside, they are nice and surely it’s one of his love languages, but when he makes the effort to get to know the true you and what your interests and hobbies are, safe to say he expects the same interest back. To know that you are at least interested in getting to know him not as batman, not as Wayne but as Bruce, and simply as Bruce will put you 5 steps ahead already. 

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[janiehellion]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 ⋮ 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔩 𝔇𝔦𝔵𝔬𝔫

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Daryl Dixon was a quiet but curious young man—shy, inexperienced, and way more innocent than you’d expect. It was just you, him, and... a vibrator.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Virgin!Daryl Dixon ⋮ Smut ⋮ Language ⋮ Cunnilingus ⋮ Sex Toys ⋮ Mention Of Drugs & Alcohol ⋮ Dub-Con

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 6.925 𝑺𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈: Pre-Apocalypse AU 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Fem!Reader

𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚: @dixongrimesgirl

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ⋮ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

The Chattahoochee was a whole different level of disgusting, even for a bar so close to the deep woods of Georgia. Low ceilings, broken lights, and the smell of piss and beer were present in every corner. Regulars stumbled in every night and day, a lot of them already drunk or high, but most of them?

Both.

It was the kind of place that was sticky no matter how much bleach you poured on it and where you could smell the bad life decisions coming from a mile away.

You worked behind the bar, pouring shots of moonshine and avoiding the greedy touches of men like it was just another part of the job. Which, in a place like this, it practically was. Located in the heart of the most godforsaken area of Georgia, it was the perfect place for the kind of people you’d rather not run into at any time.

Safe to say, Merle Dixon had been hitting on you since day one, coming at you with even worse pickup lines while high on who knows what. He'd lean over the counter, smirking, smelling like alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat. "Hey, sugar tits, gimme 'nother," he’d laugh, putting a half-torn dollar on the bar like it was supposed to impress you.

"Watch the damn language, Dixon, or that’ll be your last drink for tonight," you’d answer, not even looking up as you poured him another shot.

"Hey, c'mon now," he’d answer you, "don't be like that. Ya know ya wanna gimme a shot at somethin’ else, don't ya?" He'd grin further, which seemed more lustful than charming, his eyes staring at your tits like they belonged there at all times.

You'd roll your eyes and shove the glass across the bar with a little more force than necessary. "In your damn dreams, Dixon. And keep your damn eyes up here, or I’m gonna rip ‘em outta your damn skull," you’d warn, but not entirely without sarcasm. It wasn’t the first time he behaved like that, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

Then there was Daryl, his little brother, always standing or sitting nearby, almost like a shadow, or rather, like someone who didn't belong in a place like that. He wasn’t the type to come up and throw a pickup line at you; hell, he barely spoke at all. Just stood back while Merle tried to flirt with you, as if he was embarrassed to even be there.

You’d catch Daryl looking at you with these sideways glances, his arms crossed over his chest like he was waiting for whatever bullshit his brother might do next. Or maybe he was scared, and he just had no clue what to do with a girl who would throw a bottle at someone's head and talk filthier than any man in the bar.

One night, Merle was high on meth that had his pupils blown wide, and he was drunk as always. "Y'know, darlin'," he slurred, leaning far over the bar, "I could make your night real fuckin' interestin’. Got a little somethin' else with me that’ll loosen ya up for some fun." He took out a tiny baggie—powder—white and unmistakable.

"Fuck off, Merle," you said with a smirk. "Go snort that shit somewhere else, where I don’t have to watch your annoying ass. Ain't your damn babysitter." You were used to it, but he was starting to piss you off more than usual. "And don’t even think about offering it to anyone else inside this hellhole. Last thing I need is you getting the whole damn bar high. Do that outside, with those who are probably shitting all over themselves right now."

Meanwhile, Daryl was sitting on a stool nearby, again, his eyes looking from you to his brother. You couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable he looked, the way he watched Merle and every other person around. There was always something different about him—he was quieter, more... soft. The kind of guy who stood back and kept his head down.

"Leave 'er 'lone, Merle," Daryl mumbled, more to himself than to his brother. But he seemed to be sick of the whole scene. Not that Merle ever listened, or would ever listen to him.

No, Merle just rolled his eyes before shoving the baggie back into his pocket, not even looking in the direction of his brother, keeping his focus only on you... and your tits. "Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just tryin’ to show ya a good time for once." He grabbed his drink and stumbled off, probably to piss in a bush outside, and you were left with Daryl, who still just sat there.

Some time later, you grabbed a dirty rag and started wiping the bar down, side-eyeing him. "You gonna say somethin’, or just keep sittin' there?" You teased, soon throwing the rag under the counter and pouring him another drink.

He shrugged, looking away, clearly not sure what to do with himself. "Ain’t like I could stop him if he tried anythin’," he mumbled, looking down into his glass.

"If he tried, he'd go home without his dick. Not that it'd make much of a difference for him," you said back, smirking at him and trying to get him to loosen up a bit. "You come here just to watch me shut him down every night?"

It was a half-serious question, but you knew the answer. Daryl wasn’t like the other assholes—he didn’t hit on you, didn’t try to grab your ass or tits when you passed by, and never once called you some stupid nickname like sugar tits.

"I… jus' end up 'ere," he said awkwardly, his fingers tapping down on the counter. "Ain’t got much else to do."

"Well, at least you’re not tryin’ to snort coke off my tits or ass," you answered, making him go red in the face.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat, and you couldn’t help but find it kind of adorable.

"You know, since you come here enough, Dixon 2.0," you continued, "might as well help me close up sometime and throw the rest of these assholes outta here. Would get you a drink on the house."

It was just a passing suggestion, a simple idea, but his eyes looked up, like he was considering it, and for once, he actually looked into yours. Not in that drooling, perverted way his older brother did, but with curiosity. "Maybe," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dunno."

"You know what? Just think about it."

And so, the routine went on. Merle would walk in, and Daryl would sit nearby, quietly sipping his own drink while keeping an eye on his brother. And secretly, on you.

Tonight, though? Tonight was different. Somehow, you’d gotten him here, in your home, alone, without Merle, who was probably stinking of booze and piss all over again somewhere. His brother must have gotten his hands on something strong, or whatever it was, it gave you the perfect excuse.

You’d leaned in close while Daryl was mumbling about his brother and told him he should come over; maybe help you with something, and you told him it was important. You hadn’t even needed to lie all that much—he’d just nodded, eyes wide and nervous, and here he was, following you home like a little boy.

When he got to your place, he just stood there, all tense, and moving from one foot to the other like he didn’t know where to put himself. And you—well, you liked watching him squirm and being nervous, knowing well you were the one making him feel like that.

Daryl wasn’t even in the door for five seconds before you threw your bag on the floor, walking inside without saying anything else. No pretenses, no "make yourself at home." You didn’t bother with shit like that. If he was here, he was here on your terms, and you weren’t about to treat him like a guest.

"C’mon in," you said, standing next to the door to finally close it.

You saw him gulp, eyes looking around like he was searching for a quick exit he could use just in case, but finding nothing but trouble. So he nodded, stepping in, his shoulders hunched as he stood there, awkward as hell. Every inch of him screamed that he was nervous, but he didn’t run, not yet. You liked that about him. Quiet, sure, but still stubborn.

Meanwhile, your place was kind of a mess, clothes lying around, bottles on the tables—some empty, some half-full. A few were left over from last week, but hell, you weren’t cleaning for anybody, especially not for him. Daryl didn’t seem to mind, though; if anything, he looked like he was trying hard not to stare around too much, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, his face all red once more, while you kicked off those awful heels that made your feet ache.

"Go on and sit down in my room," you said over your shoulder as you turned around, smirking as you heard his quiet huff. "I'm gonna get outta these damn clothes and put on something more comfortable."

"'Kay," he muttered and nodded again, sounding like he’d swallowed his own tongue.

Once in the bathroom, you pulled off the way too tight top and short skirt in the bathroom, letting yourself breathe for once. That outfit was a real curse; your bra always felt as if it was pushing your tits all the way up to your chin, but it kept the tips flowing, so you kept wearing those clothes.

But tonight? You’d rather die than let Daryl see you in it for too long. Poor boy was already chewing the inside of his mouth and choking on his own words like he might say the wrong thing and die on the spot.

But what you didn't know was that the second you went away to change your clothes, Daryl’s hands started twitching, like his body was on alert between curiosity and unease. A few of your clothes were tossed across the bed, smelling like that bar you worked at—smoke, sweat, and alcohol. It all felt like a place he shouldn’t be at, but here he was, sitting down on your bed and touching your clothes to shove them aside.

He told himself he wasn’t snooping, just trying to figure you out as he sat there nervously. Hell, you were already a mystery to him—a tough girl working in a bar where skirts and shorts barely covered what they ought to and heels high enough to bring any man to his knees.

So here he was, and his mind started running wild, wondering if every woman’s place was like this—half-dirty, with clothes tossed around, magazines piled up, and so much more.

Then his eyes landed on a big box sitting half-shoved under your bed, an open corner poking out like it had been forgotten as his foot bumped against it. He should’ve left it alone, but there was that itch, like he couldn’t look away. Daryl crouched down, sitting down on the floor, his fingers fumbling with the top until it opened up. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he looked inside.

It was filled with... things. Smooth, soft, strange-looking things in different shapes and colors, each one making him more confused than the last.

"What's this stuff?" He whispered, eyes squinting as he picked up a small pink thing with a rounded end. It fit in his hand, smooth but with some weight to it. "This for her... work?" He mumbled, rolling it over in his hand like it might magically turn into something he recognized. Maybe it was a tool, or even one of those weird bar gadgets he didn’t know about.

Another catch of something sparkly and soft shoved down in there made his heart beat faster, and before he knew it, he was pulling out more—the things looking weirder by the second. There was a wand-looking thing, and he held it like it might explode, wondering what the hell you were doing with all this.

"Drugs? Gotta be for drugs," he muttered, frowning as he inspected the box. Could be some kind of injector, maybe? He knew about that stuff—the guys that Merle met sometimes, passing around different things for the good times. But nothing here made sense, and there wasn't any instruction manual in sight.

He looked around like you’d come back any second and catch him, heat burning inside of him as he thought about what this meant. Were you hiding something? Was it… Was it for some kind of secret thing you did when no one was around?

"Damn it, what’re ya up to?" He said, biting his lip, his hand brushing over the surface of the smooth, strange thing, feeling his pulse race at the thought that you did know exactly what these were for.

And yet he didn’t. Not a damn clue.

"Hell’s this?"

He felt a cord between his fingers, pulling it slightly, as if tugging on it might magically make it make sense. Maybe it was for listening to music? But it had no sound, and no little earbuds or anything that he could see.

Setting that one down, he picked up another—an oblong thing with ridges along one side. It looked almost like a flashlight, but there was nowhere for the light to shine from. He pressed his thumb over it, turning it this way and that, but nothing happened.

"What the hell?" It had to be for something specific. You wouldn’t just have random stuff lying around like this for no reason, would you?

Then he found another, rounder one, with a strange little button on the side. He pressed it, flinching a bit when it buzzed all of a sudden. The damn thing nearly jumped out of his hand, and he held it tight to stop the vibrations.

"Damn thing’s possessed," he nearly yelled, feeling his cheeks burn. It felt... weird. Too weird.

And you? You had barely slipped into the bathroom, taking off your work clothes and enjoying the idea of how Daryl would squirm alone for a moment in your bedroom. The way he’d stumbled his way in earlier, not wanting to make eye contact like he didn’t know what to do with his own hands? It was almost way too easy to tease him.

And there he was, practically glowing red, sitting next to the box you kept under the bed. A simple big box—hell, he was behaving so cautiously, like he’d just discovered a bomb or a dead body. But what really caught you was the thing in his hand. A vibrator.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin’ me," you whispered, loud enough for him to hear. His head moved up, eyes wide as if he’d just been caught robbing a bank.

"Shit!" The vibrator fell out of his hand, hitting the floor, but that was only the start; the thing started buzzing further—vibrating across the floor and right toward your feet. Daryl didn’t move; he didn’t even reach for it. He just sat there, staring at the buzzing vibrator like it was going to bite him.

"Gonna tell me what you’re doin’ with my stuff?" You asked, half-amused, half-teasing, waiting to see what half-assed excuse he’d come up with, as you leaned against the door frame. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out at first.

"I… uh—" he stammered, swallowing loudly, his hands fidgeting like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. "I thought… I mean—thought it was, like, stuff for..." His voice trailed off, eyes looking to the ground, too ashamed to meet yours.

"Yeah? Stuff for what?" You pressed further, stepping forward, taking the vibrator and turning it off, stopping the noise but not the look of pure mortification on his face.

"I… thought it might be, y'know... Maybe it was, uh, y’know, things for... for bar stuff, or somethin’. Yer work." His voice was quiet, like he might get in trouble just for saying it out loud.

"For work?" You laughed and crouched down to sit next to him. "Yeah, Daryl, because every bartender needs a vibrator in her kit. So… You wanna tell me why you’re snooping, or am I just supposed to guess?"

You reached over, brushing a hand along the edge of your toy box, taking in the way his eyes tried to look at each item inside. Poor boy had no clue what half of it was for, but he looked at everything like it might burn him.

"Am sorry! I wasn’t… Jus'… waitin’ on ya an' got curious, I guess," he murmured. "Didn’t mean nothin’ by it."

You leaned in closer, enough that he could probably feel your breath on his face. "Curious, huh?" You asked, eyeing the way his shoulders tensed up. "You don't know what that stuff is?"

"Uh…" He blinked, looking between you and the vibrator like it might suddenly start buzzing again. "Not… really. No."

"Oh, you really don’t?" You pretended to be surprised. "It’s a toy, Dixon. A fun toy. For women. And men sometimes as well."

"That for real?" He asked, voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

"As real as it gets, sweetheart. And judging by that look on your face, I’d bet you don’t have much experience with this sorta things." You raised an eyebrow, daring him to admit it.

He swallowed hard, his eyes dropping back to the floor. "Ain’t never… really..." He trailed off, his whole face full of embarrassment.

"Never what?" You asked, leaning in so close you could smell the cigarettes and sweat on him, and somehow, it drove you wild. "Fucked a woman? Or even fucked yourself, huh?"

"I—" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, a sound that told you everything you needed to know. "I don’t… don’t really know… how… t'do any of that."

"Oh, honey." You leaned back a little. "You look like you’re about ready to pass out."

Daryl trembled, trying to look anywhere but at you, his whole face burning. "I—I jus'… I dunno what to do with... all that," he continued, motioning awkwardly toward the box.

You smirked, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. "Guess no one’s shown you how a woman uses one of these before, huh?" You watched his reaction, loving every little deep breath he took and every embarrassed flinch.

"N-no… But what if... maybe they could've been... for, uh, drugs?" His face somehow went even more red, and he looked ready to sink into the floor.

"Drugs? What, you think I’m hiding some kind of dealer setup in my own bedroom? And especially right under my damn bed?" You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Trust me, they’ll get you high, alright—but not the way you’re thinkin’."

The embarrassment on his face was almost painful to watch as he shifted on the ground. "Like I said, I—I don't... Ain’t never done stuff like that before, okay? I—I mean, I done that with myself... sometimes. But not really... okay?"

You smiled, letting your fingers move over his, watching as his breath stopped, his eyes looking up to meet yours for a desperate second. "Well," you murmured, "maybe I could show you a thing or two. If you’re up for it, that is."

Daryl swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he glanced between you and the box again. He indeed looked like he was about to pass out, but he seemed curious—curious in a way that he couldn’t quite hide.

"Oh, c'mon, I know you want to," you whispered, clicking your tongue, standing up, and taking off your shirt slowly. His eyes looked up fast, staring at you, and he shifted on the spot, pressing his thighs together. That’s when you noticed the growing bulge in his pants—it was more than obvious he was already hard as a rock.

"Damn, Dixon," you chuckled, "you’ve got a real problem, don’t you?" You let your shirt fall down to the floor. "Hey, don’t just sit there looking lost—c’mon, no way you're that scared of undressing a woman!"

He stammered something, some half-strangled "n-no," his hands gripping his own thighs like he had to hold himself back from reaching for you. That only spurred you on, raising your brows as you grabbed him to stand up and guiding his trembling hands to the hem of your pants.

"Well, here’s your chance," you smirked, waiting for him to open the button. You watched his fingers fumble with it, shaking as he pulled down the zipper, and then, when he managed to pull your pants down over your hips along with your panties, his eyes widened like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

"Keep goin’, don't be shy," you whispered, guiding his fingers down your thighs until your clothes hit the floor.

He just stood there, staring, mouth opening like he wanted to say something but didn’t have the slightest clue what to do next. You leaned in close, eyes locked on his, before you knelt down again and took the vibrator out of the box once more, pressing the button and letting it hum.

His eyes shot to the toy, watching with pure terror and fascination, and when you pressed it into his hand again, he held it like some foreign, sacred object he was too scared to break.

"Here," you mumbled, laying down onto the bed, legs spread just enough to give him a view he couldn’t tear himself away from even if he tried, before you pulled him next to you and guided his hand between your legs, pressing the vibrator to your thigh and dragging it higher. "Just like that, Daryl. Feels interesting, doesn’t it?"

Daryl could barely breathe, staring down as if hypnotized, the muscles in his whole body tensing up. When you moved his hand to press the vibrator against your pussy, you felt him stiffen, his other hand gripping his thigh to stop himself from trembling. The toy was vibrating against you, and you let out a quiet, satisfied sigh, glancing up just in time to see the way his eyes stayed on you, watching every little twitch and shiver of your body.

"I bet you’re a quick learner," you teased, reaching down to guide his hand again, moving it with the toy so it hit just right, and damn, if it didn’t feel good. His mouth fell open a little, and he sucked in a breath when you suddenly moaned, pressing yourself harder against the vibrator. His hand moved a bit awkwardly, like he didn’t quite know if he was supposed to be touching you this way, but the look in his eyes said he wanted to keep going more than anything.

You let out another moan, a little louder this time, just to see the way he reacted. His grip on the toy tightened, and you didn’t miss the way he was fighting with himself, clearly struggling to keep himself in check as his cock pressed harder against his pants, his breath coming out faster and shorter.

"Poor thing," you whispered, pulling his hand away for a moment, just to watch him struggle. "Bet you’ve never been this hard, huh?" Daryl's eyes looked at you, wide and mortified, like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. But the look he gave you—so desperate, so needy—only made you want to push him further.

"You wanna see what this thing can do to me?" You asked, not giving him time to answer as you pressed the vibrator into his hand again and guided it back between your legs. "Just keep it steady, like that. Right there." You rocked your hips against it, letting out a shaky breath as the lust built itself up inside of you, still watching as he clung to every little sound that left your lips.

Daryl's eyes were glued to you, his mouth open, and you noticed the way he kept moving his hips, trying to get rid of his hard-on. But no matter how much he squirmed, it wasn’t enough. He was near leaking through his pants by now, his cock being so hard he couldn’t think straight, and the sight of you practically coming undone in front of him had him on the edge himself.

"Feels good, doesn’t it, Dixon? But... don't you want to feel that too?" You taunted, moving your fingers along his wrist, pushing him to press harder and the toy just a tiny bit into you, wanting to let him feel every little tremor that wracked your body. He just nodded, lost for words, breathing hard, his eyes moving between your face and the way your hips bucked against his hand.

"Keep going, just like that," you urged, and he obeyed, pressing the vibrator a little harder, his other hand softly brushing against your thigh as if he needed something to hold onto to keep himself from falling apart. His face was so close now, so flushed, eyes wide with need, lips parted as he struggled to keep his breathing steady.

"Y’know, Daryl," you moaned, "you’re doing a hell of a job for someone who’s never touched a woman before, not even with toys." His face burned, but he kept going, kept pressing that toy against your pussy, completely mesmerized by the way you reacted.

"You like watching me, don’t you?" You murmured, letting out another moan that left him swallowing hard. "Don’t think I haven’t noticed... that you can’t keep your eyes off me and how damn hard you are."

He tried to come up with a response, something about "I... I didn’t mean to..." but his words trailed off, and he was just there, helpless, utterly at your mercy, his hand tightening on the toy as you let out one last moan that left him breathless and staring, before you snatched the vibrator from him and clicked it off.

The little tremor it left in his hand was nothing compared to the way he stared at you now, still holding onto that last bit of control.

"Think you can do it without help?" You asked, grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand to your pussy and to make him feel how wet you were, his fingers twitching as they moved along your folds. Daryl nodded but was holding on for dear life and trying not to slip.

"I... I dunno," he mumbled, eyes glued to your pussy.

"Oh, for the love of... here," you growled, placing your hand over his, guiding his touch lower, rougher, until you dragged his fingers exactly where you wanted them. But Daryl was a mess, barely holding himself together, his other hand still clamped over that hard bulge in his pants as he lay there beside you.

"Now, watch closely," you instructed, pressing his fingers just the way you liked it. "Doesn’t take much, does it?" You smiled, letting your free hand move down his chest, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. "Bet you’d come just feeling me touch you."

He whimpered, the outline of his cock pulsing through his pants, a wet spot already forming itself. It didn’t take much to notice the hesitation in his every move, making him so easy to toy with.

You leaned back a little, pushing your tits forward. "Go on and position yourself over me," you dared, and as soon as he did, you lifted his other hand from his bulge to your tits, watching as he sucked in a breath, his hand shaking as if he were holding something he had no right to touch. "Ever felt these before?"

Daryl shook his head, still wide-eyed, his eyes looking into yours for a second before dropping back down, like he was afraid to look too long.

"Then make the most of it." You reached down, pressing his other hand harder against you. "I want you to use that mouth of yours now," you smirked, pushing him down to press his lips against your nipples. His breath was warm and shaky, and he hesitated, his mouth just an inch away from you. You raised an eyebrow, daring him, and after a long, deep breath, he finally leaned in.

"That's a good boy," you praised, your fingers running through his hair, feeling him shiver under your touch. He was so damn easy to play with, each little whimper and moan only turning you on more, urging him to suck and lick, his tongue slow but eager, desperate for more.

"Gently," you ordered, glancing down to see him lose himself, his hands now touching you like he didn’t want to let go. The poor guy was panting, his eyes squeezed shut as he sucked and kissed your nipple, as if the sight alone would push him over the edge.

You soon moved your hand down, feeling the outline of his cock through his pants, feeling him flinch, his breath stopping as you gave him just a bit of what he wanted. "This what you want, Daryl?" You whispered, teasing him and squeezing his shaft just enough to make him groan, his hips bucking, desperate for more. "You do, don't you? But now, I want you to eat me out."

Daryl couldn’t even get out a response, his mouth still on your nipple, but the look in his eyes told you everything.

"Pathetic, but also really cute," you laughed, unzipping his pants just enough to reach inside, your fingers wrapping around his cock and making him gasp, his whole body tensing as you squeezed him. He was thick, hard, already wet from the pre-cum that leaked from his tip, and the way he moaned, quite high, only made you want to drag it out and tease him until he was begging to come.

As you quickly positioned yourself over his face, you could see how he was a nervous wreck the moment your ass hovered above him. "Oh, please, don’t just lay there. Get to work," you teased, lowering yourself down, your pussy brushing against his lips.

When he finally opened his mouth, it was like you flipped a switch. The moment your folds hit his tongue, he moaned, the sound muffled against you. It sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but grind against his face, pushing him harder against you.

"God, you’re a natural," you gasped, encouraging him with your hips. "Just like that, baby. Don’t be shy; use your tongue."

Daryl’s mouth worked hesitantly at first, but the more you ground down, the more confident he became. His face was buried in your pussy, the taste of you driving him wild as he licked and sucked, trying to figure out what made you feel good, and the way he looked up at you, eyes full of wonder and lust, only made you want to ride his face harder.

"Yeah, keep going," you panted, feeling your legs tremble as he finally got into a rhythm. "Good boy, just like that," you moaned, feeling the tension building inside you. He was so focused, so eager to please, and the way he hungrily licked and sucked made you see stars.

"Don’t stop, Daryl. I’m so close," you urged. "Yeah, that’s it," you moaned, pushing your hips down even harder. "Don’t you dare stop. Just like that—yes!"

The way he held your thighs, trying to hold you against him, and the way he whimpered against you—those sweet little sounds pushed you right over. "I’m cumming! Fuck!"

Your body tensed, and you ground down harder again, shaking and feeling him groan against your dripping pussy as you let go and came, completely lost in the moment.

You felt him drink it all in, and you knew he was just as lost as you were. The second you pushed yourself off his face and watched him, face red and lips parted, you could tell Daryl had no idea what to do with himself. Wide-eyed and panting, he lay there as if you’d just dragged him straight into some fever dream he wasn’t even ready for. He seemed so helpless as he tried to piece together the storm of feelings that’d just hit him.

"Still with me, Daryl?" You asked, letting your weight push him further into the bed. His eyes looked down between your legs, then looked away, like he didn’t have the courage to watch.

"Y-yeah…"

He shuddered, that helpless little whine slipping out as you leaned down, your mouth right over his. He was as stiff as a board beneath you, looking both horrified and desperately curious at the same time.

"Think you can handle more of this?" You whispered, one hand moving down and wrapping around his cock as you took it fully out of his pants.

"W-wait," he stammered, trying to close his legs in a last attempt to get some space, but you only held him tighter, giving his cock a slow, teasing stroke. It twitched in your hand, leaking all over your fingers like he couldn’t stop himself.

"Sweetie, look at you," you smiled, swirling a finger over the tip, just to watch him jerk, hips lifting up like he was begging. "So needy aren't we?"

Daryl let out another whimper, his face going beet-red, those shy eyes looking away once more as though if he didn’t look at you, he’d somehow be less mortified.

"Feels so good, huh?"

His whole body was practically trembling with need, and he was leaking—a lot. His cock throbbed in your hand, pre-cum dripping so much it smeared along your fingers.

"Damn, Daryl," you whispered, smirking as your fingers now teased along the underside of his cock. "Didn’t know you’d be this easy, really."

You soon leaned down, your mouth just over his cock; the slightest lick of your tongue along his tip pushed another bit of pre-cum out, and you couldn’t help but laugh, loving every bit of his need.

"Baby, look at you, leaking everywhere," you teased again, wiping the tip with your thumb before bringing it to your lips, licking off the taste. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, you pulled back slightly before leaning up to kiss him, letting him taste himself on your lips.

It made him moan again, his hands reaching out to grip your body as if needing to ground himself. "P-please…" He whispered, but you didn’t give in just yet.

Instead, you reached down, grabbing your vibrator again. You saw the way his eyes narrowed, with pure nervousness all over his face, as you suddenly pressed the toy to his cock, starting at the lowest setting. The buzzing made him gasp, his hips jerking involuntarily against you as you dragged the vibrator along his shaft, right along that sensitive spot just under the head. Every time it brushed up and down, he leaked more against your hand, only making it messier.

"Oh s-shit…" He whimpered, sounding utterly wrecked.

With a smirk, you leaned back and held up the vibrator for him to see, his eyes following it, dazed, and lips parted. "I think that’s enough; otherwise you might explode on the spot," you said, watching his expression drop just slightly as he looked at you switching it off and tossing it back into your toy box all of a sudden.

Leaning up, you gave his lips a slow, lazy kiss, feeling him melt against you, even more needy when you pulled away and slipped back down. And damn if he didn’t start leaking more, a fresh drop of slick pre-cum glistening right there, just begging to be tasted.

"How sweet you are, Daryl," you murmured, slowly moving your tongue along the underside of his cock, not missing the way his hips jerked up instinctively, even though he didn't seem to understand why. One gentle lick. That’s all it took for him to be close again, and he was helpless against it.

"Just relax and enjoy it," you continued, letting your tongue move along the tip of his cock and the desperate little gasp of his driving you wild as he grabbed the sheets, practically sobbing as he tried to hold back.

You wrapped your lips around just the head, barely enough to count as anything. But to him? It was like fireworks going off.

"N-no, I—oh fuck, I can’t—" He breathed out as his head fell back, his body shivering under you.

And when you took him just that tiny bit deeper, that was it—he lost it. Hard. He tried to hold it, tried to push you back even, one hand weakly pressing against your head, but he was already too far gone. The orgasm tore through Daryl, overpowering him completely.

His whole body stiffened, a helpless cry coming from his throat as he finally lost it, filling your mouth with his cum as he came. Before he even had time to process it, you’d swallowed every last drop from his throbbing cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you looked back up at him.

He was still shaking, his mind clearly blown, and when he finally managed to look at you, it was with that same wide-eyed shock.

Daryl just lay there, still in shock, his body trembling as reality sank in. "D-did ya really jus'—" His voice cracked with disbelief all over his face as he tried to wrap his head around what just happened.

You smirked at him, leaning in close, your lips moving softly against his in a teasing kiss. "What’s the matter, sweet boy? Never had someone swallow your cum before?"

He quickly shook his head. "I—I thought ya might get pregnan' or somethin'!" He stammered in embarrassment, his mind racing with the wildest thoughts.

"Oh, cutie. You really think it’s that easy? I'm sorry, but that's not how it works," you laughed, nudging his arm, enjoying the way his shoulders tensed up like he was trying to hide from you. "What? Can’t even look me in the eye after that?"

He opened his mouth, but whatever words he thought he might stammer out just died right there, and his hand went up to scratch the back of his neck.

"I... I didn’ mean to..." he finally managed to say, his voice cracking in the middle, his face still as red as a tomato.

You raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t mean to what? Coming in record time?" You let out a sarcastic scoff, and he near cried, ducking his head as though it would save him.

"I-I dunno, I thought... I jus', I mean—" he stumbled over each word. "Jus' ain’t never been with... y’know, anyone... like that."

"No kidding," you replied dryly, watching him shrink even smaller, if that was possible. "Anyone coulda guessed that, by the way, you freaked the hell out." He winced at your words, but hell, it just made him look all the more adorable, laying there.

When you placed a hand on his thigh, he went stiff as a board all over. "Easy, Daryl," you murmured. "No one’s laughing at you... much."

"I-I’m... sorry," he mumbled again.

"Sorry?" You scoffed, tilting his chin up to force his eyes to look at you. "For what? That you came too soon, or that you actually loved it?"

He tried to look away, but your fingers held him in place. "Both, I reckon," he answered, his voice shaking. It was like he thought he’d done something wrong, like he needed to apologize for being human.

"Nothing wrong with it, Dixon. Means I sure as hell did it right." You laughed, running a thumb over his jawline as he stared back at you.

"Bet that head of yours is just spinning right now, ain’t it?" You said, half-mocking. "Poor, sweet Daryl, don’t know what to do with himself now."

It was easy to see what he still needed—what he wanted, even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it. You didn’t have to guess, though. He was desperate for something more, desperate for you to just tell him what to do. It was obvious that he had no experience with women or anything like this, but it didn’t matter to you. If anything, it just made it better. You wanted him nervous.

"Hey," you said softly. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed. Not at all." You could see that he wanted to apologize again, wanting to make up for how pathetic he felt.

"Tell you what," you said, kissing his cheek. "You’ve got a lot to learn, Daryl Dixon. But I think you’re gonna like it. You just need to stop worrying." His hands moved to your waist, but they were hesitant, unsure. "And me? Well, I’m not here to judge you."

You took his hands and placed them back on your body, guiding him again. This time, he didn’t hesitate much, but it seemed as if he was trying to copy the way you had guided him earlier, trying to find some way to make up for what had happened. But that, for now, was enough.

"Don’t worry," you said, grinning at him, "I’m going to teach you."

Because you would. And he had no choice. Maybe that was what you liked most. The way Daryl needed you now, the way he didn’t even know what he wanted, but he was willing to follow you with your help along the way.

And he was only going to fall deeper.

[totalfreakingloser]

I absolutely love that I have never once been in a romantic relationship and yet the song my brain has decided I need on loop is Night Shift by Lucy Dacus

[dorkszn]

COME AND GET THAT + logan howlett

SYNP — being home for the summer from school isn’t so bad. it isn’t so bad until your motorcycle stops working. and your dad tells you to call over the man that inspired you to get the bike in the first place and the closest one who could fix it, his best friend and your longtime crush, logan.

WARNINGS — masc reader, age gap ( no duh ), reader’s dad is kinda a dick, subbot reader, oral, petnames, logan’s a little mean, slight degradation, kitchen sex, hair pulling, eventual smut, porn with plot | 3.4K ( im sorry 😭 )

PART TWO ( coming soon )

Summertime. It’s such a wonderful time. You get out of school and can drive back to your hometown. You see your parents and siblings and get to flop onto the mattress of your old childhood bedroom.

But your favorite part? Getting to see your dad’s best friend, Logan. Who seems only to be getting hotter and hotter with each passing year. Only maybe you’re just getting more worked up and shy with every year that passes because each summer you can barely stand to look him in the eye or be alone in a room with him.

You’ve been home for about a week or two by this point, getting back into the comfort and schedule of your hometown life. Luckily but also somehow unfortunately, you have yet to see Logan since you returned. Hell, he probably doesn’t even know you’re home.

So imagine your surprise when you’re standing outside of your parent’s house with your dad, examining your sleek motorcycle that just wouldn’t start. You know how to do basic motorcycle care that of course, Logan taught you. He was the one who inspired and motivated you to get the damn bike anyways. So why were you surprised when your dad suggested calling him?

“Guess I’ll give Logan a call and see if he’s busy. He should know how to fix it,” your father says in a small sigh as he stands up straight.

“Wait, call Logan?” You repeat even though you know it’s dumb question and that you were just nervous to see him again since winter break.

“Yeah, Logan, you got a problem with that or something, squirt?” Your father responds slightly mockingly as he repeats your obviously odd question. You just grumble slightly under your breath.

“No, dad, just… go ahead and call em’,” you say in a sigh as the two of you stalk back towards the house. After that, it only takes half an hour before the inevitable and you see that familiar pickup pull into your driveway.

You reluctantly trail behind your dad like a clingy pup instead of a grown man to go greet Logan. You don’t miss the way he smirks with his signature cigar between his lips as he very slowly drags his eyes on your body.

“And when was I gonna find out my favorite college kid was home?” Logan asks gruffly, plucking the cigar from his lips with an outlet of smoke. His voice damn near sends shivers down your spine everytime you hear it.

You just opt for shrugging and giving him a casual smile. “Find out when you find out, I guess,” you say and of course, he lets out that little chuckle and snort that you love so much.

Logan puts his calloused, large hand out for you to greet him correctly only for him to grab your hand and pull you into him. You can’t help the small, very unmanly yelp that leaves you when he grabs you so suddenly. The smell of him hitting you so quick it damn near makes your mind spin. Cigars and ash and wood and leather and just him. Gosh, it almost drives you so crazy you barely notice the light headlock he put you in.

When you do finally notice, it definitely does not help the flare of heat in the pit of your stomach. You try to brush it off, tugging at his incredibly strong and veiny biceps with a small grin to pry him off of you. Finally, he releases you and you can’t help but take in a relieved breath.

“Still as much of a little shit as ever, kid,” Logan taunts, placing his cigar back between his lips. Lips that you wanted to feel on yours so bad. “You sure you ain’t getting smaller with each year?”

You roll your eyes for the second time that night. He knew you weren’t getting smaller. It just seemed like he was getting bigger even at his grown age. And damn, is he big. 6 feet 2 inches and 205 pounds of pure muscle. “Yeah, I’m sure, Logan,” you end up mumbling in response as you stuff your hands in your pockets.

Logan just chuckles again. “Yeah, okay,” he responds sarcastically. With another puff of smoke, he looks to your father then your bike. “So, what’s the problem, Bub?” He inquires.

You trail your father as he walks Logan over to your motorcycle. The same model he recommended years ago. You barely listen as your father explains the situation to his best friend, your eyes stuck to the man in the red flannel.

“Looks like you just need an oil change, kid. And your fuel filters clogged,” Logan says in a small grunt as he stands from his kneeling position next to your bike.

“Damn, squirt, you can’t tell when you need an oil change?” Your dad questions, pinching the bridge of his nose. You frown slightly and your brows furrow.

“I just didn’t notice, okay?” You grumble in reply.

Your father sighs before looking back at Logan. “Could ya fix it, Howlett?” Your father questions, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah, could change the oil if the kid wants. The fuel filter, on the other hand, you’re gonna have to replace the part. I’m assuming you don’t just got one layin’ around here,” Logan explains and he dusts his palms off.

“Perfect. Time for the kid to learn to do something for himself,” your father says with a grin of mock-approval. Oh, how you wish your mother was here instead. Logan just lets out a small chuckle that seems just a little bit forced. “Well, I gotta head off to work. Help Logan out, will ya? Get him whatever he needs or asks for.” Your father sighs to you.

He’s going to leave? The two of you? Alone? Does he actually want you to pass away? “Yeah, dad, I got it,” you say to cover up the way your heart almost immediately started racing. Then it was only minutes later before you were watching your father pull out of your driveway and zip down the street, leaving just you and Logan.

Logan turns to you and damn you could almost feel the way he looked at you. You nervously pull your eyes away from the street and to Logan who offers you his usual smirk when you look at him. “Get me your old man’s box, will ya?” He requests.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmur before turning and walking back towards the house to get your dad’s toolbox. And are you being paranoid or is he definitely watching you walk away?

You eventually come back with your dad’s toolbox in hand. Logan turns to you when he hears your footsteps despite them being damn near silent. He’s always so astute and aware. It scares you and somehow turns you on at the same time.

“Atta boy,” Logan says as he takes the box from you and holds it like it weighs nothing more than a bottle of water. “Thanks, kid.”

Atta boy. Gosh, what would you give to hear him say that again. “Yeah, no problem,” you respond. You can’t help but watch him for a few minutes before turning and walking back towards the house. Your father would definitely force you to stay and watch Logan so you could “actually do something right.” But thankfully and also unfortunately, he isn’t there and Logan could care less.

And for the next 45 minutes, you spend your time inside trying to distract yourself from the man outside. The man you were home alone with. You leave the door ajar just in case he needs anything which of course he doesn’t. He’s just that good, right?

You lean against your kitchen counter, feeding your cat, James, a blonde cat who is somehow more accident prone than you are, blueberries. Your mind is practically running on autopilot out of boredom. But you’re acutely aware of the sound of the front door opening and shutting. As well as the heavy footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

Logan turns the corner, his flannel gone, leaving him in just a tanktop and jeans. A tanktop that practically put all of him on display. The muscles and veins in his arms, the firmness of his chest. Specifically that vein on his right biceps that runs all the way down to his forearm.

There’s a few oil marks staining his skin, on his neck and arms and chest. A little on his cheek. How the hell did he get that dirty? Hell, not like you’d know. You hardly touch the inside of that motorcycle, willingly.

His dog tags hanging perfectly in between his pecs. How you would love to trade places with those things right now. “S’all done, Bub,” Logan tells you as he steps further into the kitchen.

“Right, yeah, thanks,” you say, reluctantly stopping your ogling to grab him a water from the fridge. Logan flicks his hands as he finishes washing them and takes the water from you. He leans against the counter across from you.

“How’s college treatin’ ya?” He inquires, watching as you feed James another piece of fruit.

“It’s okay, nothing special. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice school but it’s not like it’s Ivy League or anything,” you answer in a small shrug as you pop a blueberry into your own mouth. Logan can’t help but watch your lips and throat as you do so. His eyes shamelessly trained on you.

“Well atleast you got somethin’ going for ya,” Logan murmurs, finally looking away as he folds his arms over his chest. “Got a boyfriend waiting there too?” He asks. You give him a look. He chuckles. “Or a girlfriend.” Logan adds.

You just roll your eyes which contrasts the smile on your face. “Answers no to both,” you answer, watching James pluck the blueberry from your fingers. And Logan feels a little too happy to see that little smile on your face again.

“Really?” Logan replies, raising a brow in response. “Those little college kids to stupid to see what’s in front of em’ or something?”

You look over to him and see his little eyebrow raise, a quiet snort leaving you. “I don’t know. I just don’t talk to people like that. Hard to be seen when you’re acting invisible, y’know?” You say nonchalantly.

“Gotta put yourself out there one day, Bub,” Logan sighs. “Can’t keep comin’ back to this place and just hoping for it.” You watch him as he speaks and you can’t help the way your eyes repeatedly drop down to the soot on his muscles. You gotta get those stains off before you go nuts.

“It’s more of a choice than anything,” you tell him as you turn and grab a clean rag from one of the lower cabinets. Logan’s sharp eyes follow you as you move around the kitchen. “People there just don’t really “impress” me.” You add as you wet the rag with warm water.

“Oh, boys there ain’t good enough for you, huh?” Logan questions teasingly, that grin returning to his face. You step in front of him and hold out the damp rag to him. Logan silently gestures to his skin in response.

You swallow and suddenly, your heart is beating a million beats a minute. Your eyes fall from his to his chest and neck as you slowly reach the rag to his skin. “Nah,” you finally answer lowly as you begin to gently scrub at his skin. “All the way in university and still ain’t mature enough.” You mutter, watching the oil stains fade away under the rag.

Logan’s eyes are low as he looks down at you, his eyes trained on your face and lips as you speak and wipe him down. “Oh right, not mature enough f’ya,” Logan murmurs. “Need an older guy to take care of you… don’t ya?”

Your hand pauses on his chest and your eyes move back up to his. A swirl of desire and need mixing in his dark eyes. His gaze alone almost makes you shutter. “Yeah… think I do,” I say in a slightly hoarse whisper.

Not knowing what else to do, you let out a barely there breath and raise the rag, going to swipe at some of the stains on his cheeks. Your heart almost stops in your chest when he grabs your wrist instead. His other hand comes up to grab your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.

“And what would your old man think about that, huh?” Logan questions lowly, his breath fanning your lips. You part your lips to answer but your words get caught in Logan’s rough lips. Your whole body tenses up for a moment before immediately melting into him.

You let him hold you, you let him push you back into the other counter behind you. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of his earlier cigar still lingering. But it only serves to make you weaker. You groan into his mouth as his large hand suddenly slips from your wrist to your crotch, squeezing you through your sweatpants.

“School got you all pent up, yeah?” Logan asks in a huff of a breath as he just barely pulls away from your lips. Once again, he steals your lips before you can answer. Palming you through your sweatpants while his tongue explores every inch of your mouth.

He’s not wrong. It’s been just you and your hand for months now. And somehow Logan just barely touching you through your sweats is better than any night of you fucking your fist.

You can’t help but whine into his mouth when he pulls away, his hand running over your hips and waist instead. But the feeling of him pressing himself against you in his jeans quickly silences your whines. His half-erect cock grinding against your as he rolls his hips. Logan pulls back in a low groan, a thin shiny string of saliva connecting your kiss-swollen lips.

“Been thinking ‘bout you since winter, Bub. Y’know that? Pretty ass been on my mind for fucking months,” Logan says to you in a heavy breath as he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip. You just look up at him, still in slight shock at it all but your mind falling prey to the pleasure and want.

“What? You wanna do something about that?” You question quietly, your voice not matching your smug and suggestive words.

Logan smirks down at you a bit. “Damn right,” he answers, his hand on your chin shifting to your hair as he grabs a fistful of it and tilts your head to the side. His hips rolling against your again as he sinks his teeth into neck. His name falling from your lips in a whimper.

Your hand subconsciously falls to his belt, weakly trying to still his hips against yours which of course doesn’t work. Logan pulls his teeth from your neck while simultaneously guiding your hand down from his belt to the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Feel that, pretty boy? Feel what you’re doing t’me?” Logan mutters against your bruising skin. And you do feel him. A lot of him. It made you lose your breath further while shooting sparks of further arousal to your gut. “Wanna help me out, Bub? Little favor for changin’ your oil?” He requests as he sucks at your flesh, hungrily and greedily.

You move almost immediately to your knees. Breath shaking as he backs up just a bit to look down at you. A devilish grin covering his face. “Well, aren’t you just an obedient little thing,” he comments as one of his hands finds his belt, the other still in your hair.

Your heart pounding in your ears as you watch his belt unbuckle, as he unbuttons his jeans and zips them down. Your mouth damn-near watering as he tugs down his pants and boxers just enough for his dick to spring free. And oh, your jaw is going to be aching for hours.

“Look at you, all cock-thirsty. Nobody been givin’ you any attention, huh?” Logan says as he pumps himself a few times, gently guiding your head to his already leaking tip. He doesn’t have to ask before you part your lips. Maybe it was a little pathetic how quickly you dropped for him. But you couldn’t care less at the moment.

You let him sit himself on your tongue and he just basks in the view. A bit of his pre dripping onto the pink muscle. That sight alone pushed him further, pushing his hips forward until he was almost buried in your throat to the hilt. “Damn, pretty boy, you done this before or something?” Logan groans before he’s moving.

His hand in your hair keeping your head still as he begins fucking your throat. You try to keep the tears from glossing up in your eyes as he hits the back of your throat but you can’t. He doesn’t mind.

“Fuck, how has nobody claimed this perfect throat yet? Taking me so fucking well,” Logan grunts, staring right down into your glossy eyes. You let out a choked whimper around him in reply, the vibrations of the sound going straight to Logan’s cock, making his eyes fall shut as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Right, can’t answer with your mouth full of dick, can you?”

Another muffled whimper which results in him tugging on your hair. “Guess your old man was wrong, huh?” Logan pants over the sound of his balls lewdly hitting your chin, a mix of his pre and your own drool slicking the skin. “You did learn to do somethin’ useful. Damn good cock-sucker.”

Your hands hold onto his thighs as he repeatedly stuffs your face to the hilt, his fat tip kissing the back of your throat. Your nails dig into his skin through his jeans only for his eyes to roll in response. A hoarse and gruff “oh fuck” slipping through his teeth. “Been doing this for those college boys? That how you brought your little grade back up?” Logan questions roughly as he looks down to you.

Such a pretty sight you are. Eyes watering, lashes glistening, mouth full, and your lips a wet mess of your fluids.

“Mmm,” your denial doesn’t leave as words, just muffled choked sounds. A small smirk grows on Logan’s face.

“No? Ain’t that a shocker. You’d— shit— you’d make some good fucking money. Sucking cock for cash, clearly doesn't take much to get you to anyways,” Logan says, almost taunting you with his words. Taunting how fast you got on your knees for him.

You can only respond by pressing your tongue flaccid against his cock, feeling his veins pulse over the muscle. Only for him to tug on your hair when you swirl your tongue over his tip. “Fine by me,” Logan says, his voice breaking into a breathy moan. “Pretty little throat is all mine.”

You feel your own hard-on twitch in your pants at that. The idea of being all his. Even if it’s just for the summers and winters. Logan doesn’t miss the way you take him in more greedily, the way you keep letting him glide across your tongue, the way your breathing just barely steadies when you finally find a rhythm.

“Yeah? You like that idea, Bub? Being all mine?” Logan says strained, the snap of his hips growing sloppy and stuttering. All you can do is let out a muffled groan around him, staring up at him with your big eyes as the tears finally slip over. They only worsen their streams as Logan pushes your head down, giving you hardly any room to breathe as his cock twitches and he cums down your throat.

He doesn’t let you go until you’re digging your nails into his thighs again and he finally lets go of your hair. You pull away and practically gasp for the breath you lost. Coughing and heaving and sniffling as dribbles of his release rolling down your chin, followed by your tears.

“You okay down there, Bub? Too much?” Logan asks as he chases his own breath.

“No, no, i—i'm okay,” you manage to get out as you wipe at the tears and your slick chin. Logan’s low eyes drop to the tent in your sweatpants between your legs. His eyes then pull back up to yours.

“What time does your old man get off?”

[matchingbatbites]

The woman is fucking stunning. A goddess amongst mortals, a vision sent from the heavens to bless any who may see her. Eddie could honestly go on, but she has to return her focus to the man currently standing at the counter and not the beauty that just walked through the door.

"Here's your change," she says as she passes over the few coins and receipt. "Pickup is at the end of the counter, and they'll call your name when it's ready.

The man gives Eddie his thanks before walking away, and then Aphrodite incarnate is stepping up to the counter. God, she's even more beautiful up close. The slant of her nose, the artful swoop of her chestnut hair - the twin moles on her cheek that are eerily familiar for a reason Eddie can't quite place.

"Welcome to Black Roast Café, can I have a name for your order?"

"Hi there," the woman says with a soft smile, and god, Eddie feels bad for ever making fun of Jerry Maguire. You had me at hello, indeed. "Uh, Stevie is fine."

Eddie nods and types the name into the system. "Okay, Stevie, what can I get you?"

The woman - Stevie - doesn't even look at the board before she rattles off her order. "Can I please get a large, iced caramel latte, with three shots of espresso, a pump of white chocolate, and extra whip? Oh, and a butterscotch blondie."

Eddie's brain shudders to a halt. The order is specific, unique, and it's one she's heard before, from- well if she's being honest, from the only man that's ever made Eddie question her lesbianism.

Steve had been so beautiful and so kind. He was her absolute favorite customer before he'd moved away two years ago, following his best friend when she transferred to a different university to complete her master's. Eddie had mourned just a little, had grieved the loss of sunshine he brought to her days.

Eddie's eyes snap to the two moles on the woman's cheek and everything clicks into place. "Oh shit! You're back!" she says, her filter absolutely failing her. Stevie's smile fades a bit, replaced with a tinge of nervousness as she shifts in place.

"Oh, uh, I didn't- I wasn't expecting you to-"

"Remember you?" Eddie cuts in as she finally punches the order into the register. "Honestly, your order is a hard one to forget. Clearly I was right about all that sugar going to your hips."

It's a gentle tease, one she used to make back when- before, because the order really is just so sweet. It works the way Eddie hoped it would, because Stevie just laughs softly and smooths her hands over her full, curvaceous - fuck, Eddie, head out of the gutter - her hips.

"Yeah, I could probably stand to cut back a little, huh?"

"Don't you dare," Eddie retorts, offended at just the suggestion. "If anything I encourage more, because you're- you look amazing, actually."

The woman blushes, so pink and pretty, and bites into her lower lip the way Eddie wants to. "You think so?" she asks as she hands her card over to Eddie.

"Uh, totally. Like, you were attractive before - and that's coming from a lesbian - but now you-" Eddie pauses, taking a second to run the card as she shrugs. "You're like, glowing. And it only makes you more beautiful."

There's no response from Stevie as the receipt prints, and it's not until Eddie is handing back the card that she sees the stunned look on Stevie's face, her flush even darker. Fuck, that might have been too much.

Before Eddie can apologize though, Stevie takes her receipt and blurts out "I think you're hot."

Huh?

"You do?" Eddie asks, and Stevie nods.

"I've always thought you were hot. But you have the little-" She points to where Eddie's nametag is, to the little lesbian flag sticker that she stuck on it. "The sticker, and like- My best friend, Robin? She's also a lesbian, and she's talked about how annoying it is when guys hit on her and I didn't want to be like that, so I never said anything."

God, Stevie's just as sweet as she used to be, and much more considerate than Eddie even knew. She probably wouldn't have minded getting hit on by Steve at the time, and now that Stevie is standing before her, more beautiful than she's ever been and claiming that she finds Eddie attractive? Well, there's no way Eddie can't make a move.

"How long are you in town?" Eddie asks.

"Oh, uh, we just moved back, actually. Robin finished her master's program and got a job at a local museum translating documents and artifacts."

"Okay, that's cool as hell and I definitely want to hear more about that, but first- Do you want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

The question seems to surprise Stevie, and it takes her a second to process it. "Are you sure? Even though I'm-"

"The most beautiful woman I've ever seen and way out of my league? Yeah, I'm pretty sure, sweetheart. And I'm not above begging if I have to."

Stevie blushes again and oh, Eddie is already addicted to the way it floods her cheeks, is in love with how alive, how happy she looks. "Then yeah, I'd really, really like that." She grabs a pen from the nearby cup and scribbles her number on the back of her receipt before passing it to Eddie. "Call me when you're off?" she asks, and Eddie nods, beaming.

"The moment I clock out," Eddie promises, and Stevie giggles - giggles! Stevie's name is called and Eddie is thankful that the store is practically empty, because for a second there she genuinely forgot where she was.

Stevie gives her a wink and a "Talk to you later, Eddie," and Eddie barely waits for her to leave the store before she's adding Stevie's number into her phone.

"Okay," Chrissy says as she slides up beside Eddie. "Who is she and how did you get her number so easily?"

Eddie grins as she saves the new contact under Stevie 🩷🌹😍 "That, darling Christine, is my future wife."

[flawssy-227]

The Babysitter | Joel Miller x F!reader

hello :) first time writing/posting a pic in actual years (first time on this blog also). hope you enjoy. please leave some feed back!

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader, no outbreak au! Sarah lives! slight age gap

summary: you baby sit for Joel and the two of you can't keep your hands off each other

warnings: slight age gap, dirty talk, babysitter kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, m!receiving oral, mentions of dicks... I think that's all

word count: 1.9

rating 18+

The sun had long faded in Austin, the only light in the Miller’s living room was coming from the floor lamp and the television, which was on but turned down low so you wouldn’t disturb Sarah. You had just put her to bed at Joel’s request. A short text sent to you earlier, knowing that you’d be babysitting a little longer than normal on Tuesday night.

Gonna be a late one. Sorry princess.

You’d simply given him a ‘thumbs up’, not really minding hanging out with your favorite 8 year old. Your afternoon had been wildly enjoyable with Sarah–she was way too mature for her age and it was probably inappropriate how much you considered her a friend, but whatever, you’ve had a stressful couple of weeks and she was one of the only bright spots. Well, her, and her incredibly attractive father that you sometimes hook up with.

Things with you and Joel were… how should you put it? Complicated? 

You had started babysitting for Joel and Sarah during the first semester of your Master’s program at University of Texas, just a little over a year ago. You and Sarah fell into an easy routine–you would pick her up from school, help her with her homework, and give her some of the feminine energy she was surely missing with only having Joel and her Uncle Tommy around. And you really enjoyed it. You were never one for little kids, and at her age, you were certain she would be annoying as hell to deal with, but nope, Sarah Miller was intelligent and inquisitive, albeit a little headstrong. You admired her, and really respected Joel for doing his best practically on his own.

You and Joel also fell into an easy routine. One night of staying late and sharing beers led to you face down and ass up on his couch and having one of the best orgasms of your life. You both promised each other you would quit, not wanting to complicate anything since you and Sarah had such a close bond, but you quickly broke that promise, again and again and again.

After a few months of hooking up a couple nights a week, Joel told you he was seeing someone–Tess, an age appropriate mom from Sarah’s class and he wanted to pump the brakes on whatever it was the two of you were doing. You acquiesced, begrudgingly, but it was only a few weeks later that Joel said things didn’t work out and you ended up back in his bed, on his couch, and bent over the kitchen counter.

It wasn’t serious between the two of you. You had a lot going on with wrapping up the last semester of your Public Policy Master’s, and he was busy building his business and raising his daughter. But that doesn’t mean you would be opposed to something a little more serious developing. In fact, you were pretty sure you were in love with Joel. But he definitely didn’t need to know that.

You must’ve been completely zoned out as you didn’t hear Joel’s old pickup truck pull into his driveway before he entered his living room and called your name.

“Hey princess,” he said, that deep Texas drawl that made your insides melt flowing easily from his pouty lips. “How’s Sarah?”

“Perfect, as always.” You glanced up from the couch shooting a smile his way.

God, he loved your smile.

“She helped me make dinner and then we did her homework. I deep conditioned her hair, too,” you added. “You know, you gotta take her to a salon once in a while, Joel. You know, one that knows about black hair?” You had been bugging him that the 15-in-1 monstrosity he calls shampoo he and Tommy use would not work on Sarah’s curls.

Joel smirks to himself, absolutely loving the way you care about his daughter. “I’m workin’ on it, darlin’.”

A comfortable silence hits the room and Joel goes to his fridge to grab two beers. Your gaze is back on the TV, some old episode of Law & Order playing that barely has your attention.

“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, reaching for the beer without looking at him.

“Had a date.”

“Tommy Miller has a date? Now that is surprising.” You giggle as you take a sip of your beer. Joel tracks the way your throat looks as you swallow.

He takes his time to take in what you’re wearing. A sweater that tapers around your waist perfectly and a short black skirt. You look sexy, effortless. Joel realizes you always do. Like everything you wear is custom just for you.

“Is this how you dress for work, darlin’?” He lets his large fingers play with the edge of your skirt, barely grazing over your skin. “Kinda slutty,” he adds, smirking at your surprised face.

You school your features quickly and he knows he’s screwed by the sickeningly sweet smile that graces your face. You quickly place your beer on the coffee table in front of the couch and turn to face Joel. “Me? Slutty? No, Mr. Miller, I’m a good girl.”

Joel eyes you from head to toe so slowly that you feel little bursts of heat crawling over your skin. He frowns at you playfully, groaning exaggeratedly as he takes another draw from his beer. “Don’t know about that, princess. Good girls don’t wear slutty little skirts like this to work.” His hand slides up your skirt and grazes over the damp slit of your underwear before he tugs them down your legs. The low whistle he lets out sends a chill down your spine. 

“And good girls definitely don’t wear tiny little panties like this to work.” He brings your thong to his nose, lewdly taking a deep inhale that only makes your wetness grow greater. “Dirty girl,” he sighs out. “Trying to seduce your boss?”

You moan at the sight of him, it was so debauched, so dirty, but it only made you more eager to fall into whatever role play this was. 

“No, Mr. Miller, I would never try to seduce you. I promise I’m a good girl,” you plead. You watch as he absentmindedly toys with your damp thong, running his other hand over his growing bulge. You get an idea that’s going to drive Joel wild.

“Can I show you, Mr. Miller?” you ask, earning a quirked brow from Joel. “Can I show you just how good of a girl I am?”

Joel groans at how easily you fell into this dynamic tonight, not necessarily what he had planned when he came home. He spreads his legs and pats his thighs, “Yeah baby, show me how good you can be.”

You eagerly hop off the couch, taking a throw pillow with you and placing it on the ground and kneeling on it in between his legs. You let your hands rub across the tops of his thighs and give him a wide eyed look that he would almost call innocent if he didn’t know you better. You reach for the zipper of his jeans, grazing your fingers over his bulge before you pull his hard cock out and sigh dreamily. Joel definitely had the best looking dick you’ve ever seen.

Growing impatient at your slow pace, Joel grabs the back of your head and you instinctively stick your tongue out to lick at his tip. You groan at the heady taste of precum on the bulbous head. You slowly start to jerk him off, keeping your mouth only at his tip to tease him.

“You gonna show me how good little babysitter’s suck cock, princess?” he peers down at you, watching how your eyes flutter closed at his words. 

You let out a needy whine. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”

You inhale deeply, making debauched eye contact with Joel before you take as much of him as you can down your throat. Joel was big–thick and long in a way that your friends swore you were exaggerating. You’ve taught yourself how to take him down your throat, proud that you were able to go from taking a meager 4 inches of him when you first started hooking up, to now being able to brush against his trimmed hair at the base.

You can taste the sweat from his work day on your tongue as you start to move up and down. Your cheeks hollow out to make a suction and drool is pooling from your mouth. You’re trying not to gag, but the sheer size of Joel makes it damn near impossible. He looks down at you, eyes filled with something a little more than lust as he watches you swallow his cock further into your throat. Spit bubbles are pooling at the side of your mouth and your eyes are glassy with unshed tears. He shuts his eyes tight trying to stave off his orgasm–wanting to enjoy you just a little while longer. You release him with a pop and jerk him off as you start sucking his balls.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Miller?” you ask teasingly, voice already sounding a little hoarse from the exertion.

He looks back down at you, willing himself not to cum. He hums and nods the best he can, scared words will be too much for him.

You shift on your knees, readjusting as you gear yourself up to take him again. Joel thrusts slightly into your mouth, fitting perfectly and you moan around him, the vibrations making him twitch in the back of your throat. You push him deeper into your throat and Joel places his hand on the back of your head in a way that’s less forceful, and more caring. Like he’s just reassuring you that he’s there. He’s making little grunts and moans and you can’t help but drool a mix of your spit and his precum down onto his balls.

You look up at him and see his brown eyes softly looking back down at you. Way too sweet for what you’re doing.

You’re getting sloppier and sloppier, veering towards cock drunk as Joel tells you he’s about to cum.

“Where d’ya want me, baby,” he slurs, in his own fucked out state.

You can’t let up now with Joel being so close to finishing. You bare down, deep throating him to a point that nearly makes you gag, but you will yourself to power through it. Joel starts to thrust into your warm, wet mouth before he moans a little too loud and spills his cum down your throat. 

He’s so deep you barely taste him, only letting yourself up when you feel him relax underneath you.

You both catch your breaths for a moment and after a while, Joel pulls you up from your underarms and sets you over his lap. You almost forgot you weren’t wearing any underwear as your now soaking heat is pressed over his wet cock. Even soft it’s firm and thick. 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes heavily. Brown eyes looking down into yours before he kisses you sloppily, tasting himself on your tongue.

You smile appreciatively, dropping your head to his shoulder and smelling the remnants of his cologne from earlier in the day. You’re insanely horny now but happy nonetheless that you made him this fucked out, feeling a surge of confidence at the thought.

“So,” you start, your smile breaking the warm silence between you two, “am I a good girl?”

Joel laughs, rubbing absent minded circles on your back. He thinks he loves you. “Yeah, princess, you’re the best damn girl around.”

**if you made it this far please leave a like, comment, reblog or a dm with some feedback! I want to get back into writing so this was just me dusting off the cobwebs... ty :)

Read more of their story

[ericscroptop]

Smokey And Sweet

✧ pairing: neighbor! lee jeno x fem! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), mentions of food and eating, mentions of death (no actual people die/have died), smoking from jeno & reader (cigarette), cursing, teasing, car sex, semi-public sex (oops), missionary, big d!ck jeno, fingering, protected sex, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, praising, pet names, some drool & spit, kissing, shy reader when it comes to godly men like lee jeno, slightly bad-boy jeno but more so his aura, reader & jeno are in their early 20s

✦ word count: 11.6k words (i literally couldn’t stop)

✧ synopsis: new boy next door takes an interest in you and decides to take you as a warm welcome into town.

ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

Winter had said its goodbye weeks ago, and now, it has fully transitioned into Spring.

With Spring having sprung, the environment has come back to life and everything is blooming once again.

You can now enjoy hearing the sweet songs from the birds chirping proudly every day. You can savor the sunshine and natural light for much longer now due to the time being pushed forward an hour. And, the weather isn’t bitterly cold anymore so you could actually go outside having your skin exposed without your body tingling, stinging, and shivering.

Though, there were still downsides to Spring that you loathed— such as torrential downpours, freshly awoken wasps and bumblebees, and random sneezing fits from pollen. But on days like today where the air felt so fresh outside and you frankly had nothing better else to do, the outdoors called to you.

You desired to spend your leisure time this evening outside. Maybe you’d even decide to buy a treat from the ice cream truck that drove past your neighborhood almost daily now that the weather was warmer. You relish in just the thought of enjoying your first ice cream this season from the cute truck. You’d definitely buy one.

With the weather just right, you chose to wear a simple oversized t-shirt and your pair of frilly-ruffled, black and white polka dot shorts, along with your go-to comfortable footwear. Perfect for lounging out in the breezy and warm weather.

Deciding to sit on the tailgate of your dad’s pickup truck while you wait, you scroll mindlessly through your phone with your wallet by your side.

Although your face was trained on your phone instead of enjoying the outdoors peacefully, at least you were outside instead of cooped up in indoors.

In the midst of the sounds of nature, from wind blowing the trees to birds singing, you hear the sound of your neighbors’s door swing open. Though, you refrain yourself from allowing your eyes to follow the sound, trying to ignore their presence even though curiosity fills you.

This past week, a new family had moved into the house next to yours. It had been vacant and up for sale for awhile, as the previous owners decided to relocate elsewhere.

You’ve seen the movers and had your fair share of brief glimpses towards the house, but you tried your best to ignore and avoid them.

Although your whole life your neighbors have been unproblematic and greet your parents every-so-often, you weren’t someone who enjoyed small talk and acted ‘neighborly.’ You lived in your own bubble, and were too shy in even sparing a greeting to your neighbors.

That may seem a bit bitchy, but you just felt awkward and never really knew what to say. It felt easier just minding your own business.

You probably should work on your social skills. Maybe then you’d actually have something to do instead of sitting alone outside like a loser waiting for some ice cream— at your grown age.

With your attention directed towards your phone, you don’t notice that it is a boy that comes out of the door.

Said boy walks out of his house and lets out a deep sigh with both hands on his hips as he stands on his porch.

Honestly, Jeno didn’t really know how to feel about the move. His parents had decided to move out of the big city he’s known and loved his entire life, and ditch it for this unknown-small town he has to call home now.

While he’s in his early twenties and fully capable of living on his own as an adult, he just graduated college and rent was fucking expensive these days. For the time being, it was easier to move and live with his parents until he found a job and could start saving for his own place.

There was nothing wrong with adults living with their parents, anyways. There were upsides and downsides to it— as there were with practically anything. But it’s what will work for now.

It just sucks that he had to leave everything he’s ever known behind and start over. But life’s all about growing and new adventures— at least, that’s what the older adults say. He just has to learn to adapt to his new environment and embrace change.

He’s been unpacking boxes and organizing his new room all day. It was now around 6pm, and he’d been in the house all day doing labor and cleaning. After being stuck indoors all day, he figured it was time for a break to go for a short drive or maybe get food someplace.

As he stepped out his front door and stood on the porch, he looked towards his left and noticed your figure.

A girl, he thought. He hadn’t really gotten a chance to even notice any of his neighbors or surroundings fully, as he was too immersed in helping his parents settle into their new home and couldn’t keep his attention on anything outside of moving in.

From his porch he could see your figure swaying your head faintly from side to side, legs swinging back and forth in the air over the cracked concrete of your driveway. You were in your own world, phone in hand and sat by your lonesome self.

How cute, he thinks. He probably looks like a freak just staring at your form, but he glances around the street fleetingly and it doesn’t seem like anyone else is out right now. You don’t seem to notice his presence watching you— or at least, maybe you’re pretending you don’t.

You peak his interest suddenly. He wonders what you’re like and from this distance, he can see that you’re definitely an adult like him. Maybe you’re around his age. He could use a friend or at least, know someone in this foreign town.

He gives himself an internal pep-talk of confidence to walk up to you. You’d start seeing each other almost daily now that you’re neighbors, and he doesn’t think he can stay unacquainted with you. So he strides his way towards your house to introduce himself like a gentleman.

While engrossed in whatever nonsense you’re watching on your phone, you begin to detect movement from your peripheral, as well as hear shoes scraping against the concrete.

Your eyes slightly widen at that, sensing a complete stranger coming towards your direction. It wasn’t everyday someone decided to approach you suddenly. Your body stilled and you found strength to raise your head, locking eyes with what seems to be a handsome man.

He brings a hand up and waves, continuing walking up to you until he’s like only 6 feet away.

“Hey— sorry to bother you, but I came to introduce myself. I’m Jeno. I just moved in next door.” he shoots you a smile.

“Oh— hey! Yeah, it’s nice to meet you.” you awkwardly get up to stand on your feet and extend an arm out.

“I’m Y/n. Welcome to the neighborhood!” you put on your best smile as he takes your hand to shake it firmly, practically blacking out mentally as you cannot believe this is a real scene playing out.

You’re left utterly dumbfounded once you took a good gander at this guy.

There was a contrast to him. His skin was pretty much bright and his beauty could light up darkness and draw irresistible attention to him, but he was also kind of shadowy in a way. Although he greeted you with a smile that reached his eyes, he seemed to have this intimidating presence to him.

Maybe you’re just saying that because anyone who’s attractive to you intimidates the fuck out of you. But he seems to ooze natural confidence and appeal. His features were sharp, and he just had this indescribable aura to him that made you weak. You couldn’t pin point what it was.

It didn’t help that he was cool enough to rock an undercut, seeing it peeking through slightly from his right side of face. Not to mention, you couldn’t help but shift your eyes down for a second to look at his almost-exposed chest, first few buttons of his dark flannel left undone.

His dark eyes, dark hair, and dark shirt contrast with his light blue baggy jeans and kind smile, making your skin heat up from his presence, even in the midst of a breeze passing through.

But anyways— your new neighbor is a hot man that decided to come over and greet you. If that’s not a moment in history, then you don’t know what is.

The smile on his face doesn’t falter one bit as you greet him back, feeling your smaller, slightly wobbly hand shaking his own, and sees the slight tint of pink coloring your cheeks. Was it from the weather or his abrupt approach? He’s not sure. And neither are you.

“Thanks. I— uh, actually noticed you were sitting out here alone. Figured I’d come introduce myself. Since I’m new to this town, I don’t know anyone.” he admits.

Your lips parted as you attentively listened to his every word, arms crossed. You let out a chuckle as he finishes, “To be honest with you, i’m not really familiar with anyone else in this neighborhood— and i’ve lived on this street my whole life.” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you look around at nothing in particular sheepishly.

Your words and quiet laugh only makes his smile bigger. “Yeah? Maybe I could be your first neighbor-friend.” Jeno smirks at you, his hands shifting around in the pockets of his jeans.

The dopamine releasing from your brain causes you to feel giddy and it feels like butterflies are fluttering inside your stomach from excitement and coyness. You’re gushing internally at the fact that God himself has sent you a cute neighbor— one who had the urge to come over and is showing interest in you.

You only know his name and your delusional-self is already mentally planning your future with him.

“I could definitely use a friend.” your smile is genuine as you tell him, showing courtesy to your new neighbor.

You see the smile reach to his eyes again, meeting your gaze before he looks down at his own feet while grinning, making you look away shyly.

God, you felt like a teenager again.

“Do you care if I sit out here with you? I don’t really have anything better to do.” Jeno speaks. He really wants to get to know you and waste no time. You seem very sweet, and like he said, he actually doesn’t have anything better to do. (He still had some unpacking left to do unfortunately, but he needed a damn break.)

You can feel your heart rate increase and a flash of heat hits you at his words, feeling flustered that your peaceful evening has unexpectedly taken a turn.

“Of course! I could use someone to keep me company.” you say, still feeling flushed.

You pushed your rear back onto the truck’s tailgate and Jeno follows suit. He takes a seat next to you, making you hold back a giggle at how the truck lowered for a moment due to the extra weight now added.

“So… you were just out here chilling alone?” he queries with both arms outstretched behind him, leaning back a bit and making himself comfortable.

“I actually came out ‘cause I wanted some ice cream. Now that it’s warmer out again, a truck usually passes by everyday.” you begin to swing your legs like you were earlier as you continued. “I’m grown as hell waiting for the ice cream man by myself. Can you believe that?” you laugh.

Jeno finds your demeanor endearing. How you’re just out here innocently waiting for some ice cream. And the way that you seem like a ball of sunshine. You’re unintentionally stirring his emotions with sudden fondness and attraction towards you.

“Hey, that’s cute. And, now you have company to wait alongside you.” he states, his eyes stuck on you as he spoke.

Your cheeks must’ve been permanently stained pink since he’s made himself known. His natural charm and solely being in the presence of an attractive male has your palms sweaty and senses tingling.

“So why’d you move here?” you attempt to make conversation, trying to push pass the fact that he basically called you cute and is sitting directly next to you.

He inhales some air and huffs it out deeply before speaking. “Parents wanted to settle in a smaller town now that they’re getting older. We lived in the city my whole life, but my parents wanted a change. Plus, my dad runs an auto repair shop, and he had the grand idea of extending his business here, so… yeah.”

“I just graduated college a while ago, too. You’d think that I would have my own place and not be packed up alongside my parents, but i’m trying to figure out what I wanna do. Rent’s too expensive in the city, anyways. I have friends I could’ve moved in with to split rent, but since we all graduated, we all are doing our own things and they have their partners and stuff.” he continued.

“S’ry for rambling. I’m just dumping all this shit on you.” Jeno shakes his head, scoffing at his own rant. The last thing he wants is for you to think he’s looking for pity and seem lame.

“Nooo— it’s okay. I asked you a question and you answered it. Sounds like there’s so much change in your life recently. It would only be natural to feel sour or uncertain about your current life. I know it’s probably not ideal, but I hope you adjust well here.” you offer him an empathetic smile, trying to assure him that his feelings are valid.

Jeno looks at you, intrigued and taken aback by your words. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with something that suddenly made his heart stir.

He isn’t one to get sappy or ever seeks for people to comfort him. He wasn’t even asking for sympathy. You were just kind enough to offer him some touching and uplifting words.

The ends of his lips curl at your tenderness. “Wow… do you always say such nice things to people you barely know?” he decides to tease you.

Your face grows hot, laughing nervously as you speak, “What? I’m just telling you what I think.” you pause for a couple seconds before continuing, “Moving can be mentally and physically taxing. Change is never easy. Especially as a young adult, we’re still trying to figure everything out. So I feel for you.”

“There you go again.” Jeno can’t help but smirk, eyes falling to his own lap, hands clasped together.

“You majored in psychology or something? Your words are naturally comforting.” he chuckles.

You scoff at that. “I’m actually in community college— and undecided.”

He hums at your response, finally learning something about you.

“Well, i’m sure you’d be good in any career field. You sound very mature.”

You pursed your lips to the side, feeling flustered at all these small compliments he’s throwing your way. He’s probably just being nice, but he’s probably thinking the same about yourself towards him. Though, you were a very compassionate person. Your words were earnest.

And his own words carried much weight to your brain, especially because it was coming from a man. A very attractive one, at that.

“I dunno, I was just being real.” you brushed his comment off.

“Nah, you’re definitely a smart girl. Come on now.” Jeno tilts his head at you, staring at you attentively.

He’s wondering what goes on in that pretty little head of yours. He has the urge to figure you out. Jeno isn’t stupid and realizes the effect he has on girls merely from his looks. Call him cocky or whatever, but it’s not a secret that girls easily gravitate towards him.

Though, you’re currently bringing him a different vibe. He’s already gathered that you’re sweeter than a Pop-Tart. And a bit bashful.

Girls are usually so quick to be flirty towards him. Not that he doesn’t like that— he actually loves when girls are bold and quick to get things swinging. But you’re offering him something new, even within the couple of minutes you’ve known each other. He’s definitely interested in you.

You can sense his pair of eyes on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Your vision lies straight ahead, trying to remain composed after hearing him compliment you as you stare at the house across from yours. How is this man still talking to your ass? You wondered.

You can’t even come up with a response before your ears pick up on that familiar tune of the ice cream truck, sounding closer and closer every second.

“It’s coming,” you lift yourself off the tailgate, wallet in hand as you approach the end of your driveway towards the road.

Jeno follows your lead and trails behind you, joining you as the truck comes to a halt in seeing you both.

He watches as you greet the driver and look over the menu momentarily, eventually deciding on a regular-sized Italian ice— flavor of your choice.

You then turn to look at Jeno, smile taking over your features charmingly.

“Do you want anything?” you ask him.

Jeno secretly does have a big sweet tooth, so he refuses to pass up on a treat of his own. “Yeah, i’ll have the same as her.” he announces and smiles at the worker.

You fiddle with your wallet, scrambling to fish out a couple dollars while your treats are being prepared. Though, it seems like you’re beat to covering for the both of you, eyes looking up to the sight of Jeno handing the worker some cash.

“I got it.” he says like nothing to you, happily paying the man in the truck.

You’re left confounded, not expecting him to even have his wallet on him.

Your mouth is slightly parted at his sudden act, ponderously putting your money back in your wallet. You can’t even protest as the transaction was already made.

Jeno hands you your treat with a spoon and grabs his own, both of you thanking the driver and walking back to your dad’s tailgate as the ice cream truck drives away, music now growing distant.

“I was gonna pay for us, y’know?” you say as you sit back down, Jeno doing the same.

“It was only a couple bucks. Plus, i’d never let a girl pay.”

You look down at your Italian ice in hand, poking at it with your spoon in other hand.

“Yeah, but we just met. You’re the new neighbor, shouldn’t I be the one treating you?”

“Your company is more than enough.” he simply replies before bringing his spoon to his mouth, head turned in your direction.

His words make your heart begin to thud erratically in your chest, heat rising all-throughout your body, and you’re left tongue-tied.

You’re still twiddling with your semi-frozen treat, mind and body fuzzy. You’re focused on his comment, the fact that he paid, and the innocent moment of you two enjoying ice cream next to each other here— outside your house.

You feel like you’re squirming on the inside, not knowing what to do with Jeno’s kind presence. He’s your neighbor now. How are you supposed to live now that you have an incredibly beautiful and charming man living next door to you?

“You like playing with your food before you eat?”

“Huh? Oh— my bad.” Jeno rips you away from your ruffled thoughts about him, now feeling embarrassed at how your head is already spinning and going dumb from someone you just met.

A nervous chuckle leaves your throat, finally digging for your first bite while Jeno was on his nth spoonful. You pop the spoon filled with ice cream into your mouth, tastebuds absorbing the deliciously creamy and smooth consistency.

“How is it?” he asks, eyeing you as you enjoy your first taste.

“It’s so sweet. Really good.”

“Definitely.” Jeno says, nodding his head in agreement. Though, he’s not sure if he’s referring to the ice cream or you.

You guys finished up your treats and talked about various topics, slowly getting to know each other better. You even started to loosen up a bit more, feeling just a tiny bit more comfortable the more you two conversed.

“You know, I’m a real huge car guy.”

“Really? I’m honestly not surprised.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause it seems like every guy these days is a ‘car guy.’” you sneered.

He scoffs after listening to you. “Well, since my dad’s a mechanic, he’s taught me almost everything I need to know about cars. It’s practically in my veins.”

“Trust me, I am practically infatuated with cars. I used to dream of becoming a F1 driver.” he clicks his tongue.

“Woah, what?! So with cars, do you like the mechanics of it all, or do you really just like showing off how fast you can go?” you cock your head at him, asking curiously with a hint of tease in saying the latter.

“Both. I like working hands-on with cars and having the knowledge to perform car maintenance. It also feels personal cause’ since my dad’s a mechanic, he passed down his love for cars to me.”

“I also love the control I can have while driving. It can be exhilarating when you’re going hella fast. Especially when your car’s all nicely polished and sleek— it’s the best.”

“Damn. You really are passionate, huh? That’s actually really dope.”

“I am.” he smirks, amused that you’re interested in hearing about his interests. Like, you actually are having a conversation with him and are seriously listening to him.

Meanwhile, it’s such a breath of fresh air for you to listen to him speak about his passions and have personality to him. He wasn’t dry or giving you half-assed anything— and he was respectful, making you swoon and happy to have met someone like him.

The sun was beginning to set as you two got loss in conversation, the sky painted in a warm hue.

“Let me go throw these away.” you gather your now-empty foam cups and plastic spoons, grabbing them and getting up to throw them in your trash bin.

“Thanks.” Jeno gets up shortly after you do, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I should be the one thanking you— for the ice cream.” you now stand in front of him, arms crossed behind your back with a hand resting over your wrist.

“It was only a couple of bucks, no biggie like I said.” he assures you.

You smile, the apples of your cheeks more prominent as you can’t hold back in how wide it becomes due to his kindness. You stand meekly, figuring that this is the part where you bid one another goodbye and go inside your separate homes.

Although he literally lives next to you and you’d be seeing him frequently, you don’t want your time together to end just yet. He’s pulling you in like a magnet. You’ve felt lonely lately, and Jeno’s company was the best unexpected gift you could ever ask for.

And it seems like he’s thinking the same.

“Hey— I was thinking now would be a perfect time to drive around for a bit. I’ve been stuck at home all day and could go out for a bit. Would you like to come with?”

Your brows lift slightly, caught off guard by his invite. You didn’t expect to spend your evening with a man outside your house, and now, said man is asking you out for a drive.

“Only if you want to, of course. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to or—“

“No!— let’s do it.” you interrupt him, rather eagerly. You stare at him with a twinkle inside your eyes, mirroring Jeno’s own, eyes dreamy as he looks at your figure.

You might be some trouble for him, and you’re definitely feeling the same about him. The magnetism between you two is strong. Each of you look at one another in admiration and thoughts about anything else are practically nonexistent. It was purely curious attraction. Like a moth to a flame.

You’re honestly not sure if it’s the smartest idea to be getting in a vehicle with a guy you haven’t even known for 24 hours. You know your parents would literally be up your ass if they knew, and the anxious side of you is lowkey freaking out internally, already playing out multiple scenarios.

But you oddly trust Jeno. He seems to find solace in your presence. You each agreed that you were friends now. You hardly got out of the house anyways— you definitely needed this. And you’re an adult, so who cares?

“Alirghty then, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, i’m good to go.”

With that, Jeno leads the way into his new property. His left hand digs into his left pocket and pulls out a pair of keys, walking to the driver’s side of what seems to be his car.

The sight of his car definitely confirms that he’s a serious car guy. You’re not too familiar yourself on the technical terms or remember model names, but his car is black, windows were tinted, and it’s glossy. It looked almost brand new, smooth and sexy— dare you say. It suits him well.

He unlocks his car and lets you know you’re able to get in, and so you open the passenger door and seat yourself inside.

A subtle musky fragrance fills your nostrils immediately as you settle in. The interior of his car smells clean and fresh, mellow undertones within the scent. Not strong, but pleasant and fitting.

Jeno also settles in his vehicle, starting up the engine as you each put on your seatbelts.

“Don’t worry. I know I said I like going fast, but I follow the law. It’ll be a nice drive.” Jeno suddenly says, looking over his shoulder as his right hand takes hold of the gear shift. He puts the car in reverse, using his left hand to steer the wheel.

You sit idly as he cranes his neck slightly to look behind, making sure the street is clear as he makes exit from his driveway. He smoothly reverses, and begins to drive down the street.

Your hands are folded in your lap, and you begin to play with them out of suspense from what is to come during this drive with Jeno.

You’re fortunate that your parents are out of town right now, so they don’t really have to question your whereabouts.

Though, you’re thinking about how you’re alone in the car with a guy you just met. It had been so long since you hung out with a male like this. You couldn’t help but already feel some type of way towards Jeno. Your senses heightened within his presence. Maybe it’s because you still don’t really know too much about him, but you also think it’s because his attractiveness daunts you.

Perhaps you’re already developing a crush.

“Got anywhere in particular you wanna go? I don’t really mind; I’ll let you take the reins.” he halts his car at a stop sign, then turns to smile at you.

“Honestly, there’s really not much to do in this town. People usually go goof around the grocery stores for entertainment. That’s how dry it is here.” you tittered.

“Though, there’s a school a few blocks away from our street that I walk to occasionally when I want to clear my mind, and I usually just roam leisurely around there. Since it’s practically right next to a nice neighborhood, lots of people go on walks or bike rides around, and kids play after school hours.” you internally facepalm yourself once you finish talking. He probably is gonna think you’re so lame and that you clearly don’t go out much. A school? Really?

“We can go there. Sounds chill to me, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah! I’m good with that.” you’re relieved to see that he seems on board with your idea. He seemed to be pretty laidback and easygoing, leaving you feeling safe.

You direct him to the location, and he notices that there’s no music currently playing.

“Wanna connect your phone to play some music?”

“Oh no, that’s okay. You can play whatever.” you kindly smile.

“I listen to the same songs practically everyday. It’s getting old. How about you put on something, I could use something new.”

You feel a bit shy in sharing your music taste, but you see that he won’t take no for an answer. You give in and he helps you in connecting to the Bluetooth. A R&B playlist is what you settle for, as most of the songs in your curated playlist were comforting, catchy, and relaxing.

As the music’s going, you feel flushed and can’t reject the smile that creeps on your face as a favorite song of yours comes on. You notice from your peripheral Jeno nodding his head to the beat of the track, making you fix your attention to simply staring out the window to avoid him seeing how blushed and smiley you are.

After just a few minutes, he pulls into the school grounds, parking in the lot and you two unbuckle your seatbelts. There seems to be hardly anyone here. There’s maybe one or two cars parked, but nobody’s inside. There also aren’t any children on the playground or playing basketball like there normally would be. It seems a bit ghostly out.

With you two now sitting in the car in the practically-empty lot, you begin to wonder maybe this really was a dumb idea of yours.

I mean, what are you guys actually going to do?

With you two in this setting, wouldn’t people expect you two to be doing something shady or sketchy? Especially as the sky’s only growing somber by the minute.

“Do you care if I smoke a cig?” Jeno’s question interrupts your overthinking, making you turn, facing him.

“Go ahead.” you give him the green light to do so. It was his car after all.

Internally, you grimaced at now knowing the fact that he’s a smoker. You weren’t a fan of tobacco or nicotine, but if someone wanted to smoke, who were you to stop them?

Jeno rolls the window down halfway and reaches his hand into his door pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. He puts the stick in between his mouth, allowing his lips to hold it as he brings the lighter to the end.

He flicks the lighter and the click hits your ears. Your eyes stay hooked on him once you hear it.

Jeno took a few quick breaths to ignite it, and it lit with ease. He sucked and held the smoke in his mouth for a moment, then removed the cigarette from his lips, letting the hot chemicals cool down before releasing a steady stream of smoke into the air towards his lowered window.

He immediately feels the buzz of pleasure from the nicotine rush to his brain. The warm air embraces his lungs like a comforting hug, allowing him to relax after a long day of unpacking.

Meanwhile, you weren’t in favor of cigarettes. You don’t understand the appeal in smoking something that in the end, is probably going to lead you closer to death by shortening your lifespan and bring trouble to your body. The aroma it left was harsh and acrid, and even eye-watering.

Though, even with how strongly you felt about smoking cigarettes, why was Jeno making it seem attractive?

Your attention is captivated on the erotic bittersweetness of the sight next to you. He made it seem so effortless, like it was second nature to him.

He seemed so carefree and rebellious in this moment. He obviously doesn’t give a shit about the consequences. The habit was hazardous, but the youthful, handsome man with strong features smoking in a dark car was glamorous in your perspective.

Jeno has to refrain from grinning as he notices your wonderment. He takes another drag before shooting you a question.

“Have you ever smoked before?”

“Not a cigarette, no.”

He suddenly moves his right hand with cigarette in hold in between you two, towards an empty tray you just now were made aware of. He taps the ash off the cigarette onto the ashtray, and to your surprise, gestures it towards you.

“Wanna try?” his voice husky.

Your mouth falls barely agape, caught off guard by his question.

You have to admit, even though you strayed away from cigarettes due to the long run danger they pose, you can’t help the burning curiosity fueling inside in trying it at least once.

Jeno made it look oddly satisfying, even in the midst of the now tarnished air and molten stench.

One puff wouldn’t kill you.

“Sure.” you reply, eyelids blinking at the stick in between his fingers.

Amusement is written all over Jeno’s face. He had a hunch before you even said anything that you’ve never smoked a cigarette before. You just seemed too sweet for that.

He found it mirthful that you want to try for yourself, and with him. There was something exciting in the fact that he’s about to watch you take your first ever drag. Knowing it was your first, there was a high chance you were going to be appalled by it. But it was going to be fun to watch, almost like he was corrupting your sweetness.

He brings the cigarette towards you and you carefully take it pinched between your thumb and forefinger.

The smoke envelops your nostrils, and you feel clammy all of a sudden with the cigarette in your hold and Jeno focused on you.

You were already overthinking the way you probably looked to him right now, so obviously amateur. And it was going to be humbling when you’re left coughing or can’t do it correctly.

Jeno can practically hear your worrisome thoughts turning, and is quick to kick them to the curb. “You don’t have to do it just because I am.”

“I actually want to try at least once in my life— for the plot, y’know?” you chuckled.

“Okay then. Just know I won’t tease you. Nobody’s first smoke is perfect.” he simply smiles, immediately bringing you support.

You don’t waste anymore time for the cigarette’s sake and wrap your lips around it, hollowing your cheeks as you take a shallow drag.

Your throat instantly feels irritated and on fire, feeling tight with the smoke you’ve just inhaled. All the toxic chemicals blaze your throat and lungs, leaving a bad taste to your mouth and it feels almost-suffocating.

A couple coughs rip from your throat, and you attempt to cover your mouth with your free hand and turn your form slightly towards the right, trying to shield yourself away Jeno from your embarrassing coughing fit.

You each let out a different curse word due to your actions, making the both of you laugh— of which, lowkey makes your throat feel even worse. Jeno quickly reaches over and removes the cigarette from your hold, dumping the ash on the tray and he keeps it between his fingers as he rummages around his car for a possible drink he may have lying around.

Luckily, he finds an unopened water bottle in his backseat. It unfortunately is room temperature and he doesn’t know how long it’s been in his car, but he doesn’t hesitate in opening it and offering it to you, which you gladly take.

“God! I fucking hated that.” you huff out after taking a few sips, now feeling calm. The ashy taste still was lingering in your mouth, making you slightly frown. The scent of the smog was definitely going to cling to your clothes— thankfully, your parents weren’t going to be home tonight to be greeted by it.

“Everyone’s first cigarette is terrible.” he chuckles before taking another drag, looking graceful and natural in doing so.

You can’t help the ping you feel in your heart from how you two now practically shared an indirect kiss, him choosing to continue smoking the cigarette instead of putting it out. You’re starting to feel hazy.

“I don’t think i’ll be smoking that ever again.” you scoff, taking another sip of water before reaching for and screwing the cap back on, placing it on one of his cup holders.

“That’s good, it doesn’t really suit you.” he says before enveloping his lips around the stick again.

Your eyes squint barely as you feel slightly offended from his comment. After blowing out the smoke, he notices your expression, and adds on to his words.

“You’re too sweet for that.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“You’re a pretty girl with frilly polka dot shorts who waits outside for ice cream and has a sweet nature. You just seem like you don’t do bad stuff like that.”

Warmth climbs from your neck up to your cheeks, not being able to maintain eye contact once ‘pretty girl’ rang in your ears. Pretty girl? Fuck, why would he say that.

“Duality exists. People can have multiple sides to them.” you voiced, trying to dismiss his comment from before off your mind.

Jeno nods his head in agreement, “Can’t argue with that.”

“Smoking isn’t good for you, though. You should stay away from it.” he utters, about to take another hit from his cigarette.

An incredulous expression takes over your face. “Well look who’s talking.” you teased, shaking your head slightly.

He pauses at your words, not being able to help the breathy laugh that escapes his throat.

“Indulging in cigarettes is like a hobby to me. It’s too late for me. I’m locked in for life.” he twirls the cigarette around his fingers, then brings it to his lips once again.

“So then should I stay away from you?” you mindlessly say, making you clutch the bottom frills of your shorts for comfort as you await for his response.

Jeno blows out smoke towards the window and turns to you, your fingers playing with the fabric of your shorts. He can’t help how cute you look in his passenger seat. You look so delicate, even in the dark interior of his car, even in the thick of the secondhand smoke air.

He’s torn between wanting to protect you and wanting to tamper with you. He could get a cavity just by looking at you. You were delightful and so new and sweet to him. You can be timid but you’ve been so open to embracing your new neighbor. You were a ball of sunshine, and he was the kind of guy parents hated just based off his looks alone.

Like you had said, there can be multiple sides to everyone. Just because someone seems to appear one way on the outside, or you base their personality off one side they’ve shown you, doesn’t define their entire persona.

Jeno really wants you two to get close together. Call him desperate, but he can already feel growing chemistry between you two. You barely met, but Jeno can’t help how he’s already so drawn to you.

And he intends to get to know every part of you.

Your fingers continue to fidget with your shorts, thighs pressed together, suddenly feeling small and hyper aware of your own existence within his presence.

“I kinda don’t want you too.”

“I already like you too much, think I could use someone like you in my life.”

Your nervous system is a whirlwind currently, the opposite of calm. Blood rushes to your head in hearing his response, ears becoming warm. A tight-lipped grin stretches across your face while averting your eyes from Jeno.

You can’t help the nervous giggle that comes out of you, unable to contain your emotions. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and it’s not just due to the smoke floating around.

Fuck. You don’t even know what to say to that.

He grins at your figure, his words clearly stirring something inside you. You avoid his gaze, pupils suddenly finding your lap more interesting and easier to look at than to meet his own eyes as you feel bashful.

Your fingers run along the goosebumps that now decorate the bit of exposed skin from your thighs, coy and still unable to think of a response. He makes you feel so silly and dumb, falling for his charisma.

Jeno’s eyes fall into your lap, following your small movements. You were visibly fidgety. He couldn’t help in wanting to reach over and place a hand protectively over your thigh. He then wonders what it would be like to hold your hand, or to tuck a stand of your hair behind your ear, or to kiss your lips.

He wants to act on instinct. The attraction and desire he has for you is too much for him to bear with you next to him in his car— in an empty parking lot.

He abruptly rolls up his window and reaches for the water bottle you drank out of from the cup holder, opening it and using a tiny bit of water to carefully add it to the ashtray, to stub his cigarette out properly.

You finally look up towards him because of his movements, watching and locking eyes once he’s finished.

“Y/n…” Jeno begins, head cocked slightly to the side, swallowing before continuing. “Is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?” he practically whispers.

Your heartbeat feels like it pauses and sinks for a moment when you process his words.

Who would’ve guessed you’d be put in this position today?

Jeno’s eyes carry passion and intensity, awaiting for your permission or any answer. He’s craving for your attention, and he can’t deny the carnal desire within him to make each other feel good right now.

“I’d really love to kiss you.” he mumbles, eyes falling to your lips, head still tipped slightly, like a puppy concentrated on you.

The outside world and any miscellaneous thoughts are drowned out by the intention behind his eyes. The tense air and his admirable stare makes you feel a sense of vulnerability. Your own lips are trembling and heart flutters.

You’re lost from his eagerness and interest in you, caught off guard that he felt some attraction towards you while you’ve been trying to ignore how handsome this man was.

It’s been long since you’ve had any ounce of intimacy with another person. Loneliness has consumed you lately. With Jeno showing up in your life out of the blue, confessing that he wants to kiss you even from the little time you’ve known each other, it makes you feel validated and enchanted.

You peer down at the ashtray and center console, being a barrier between the two of you.

It would be slightly discomforting to kiss him over the compartment. But you really did want to kiss him.

Given the fact that you were parked in a parking lot during the late evening, you wondered in the back of your mind secretly of the possibility of him wanting to fuck you. Honestly, you wouldn’t be opposed to that idea in the slightest. A hot guy like Jeno wanting you was generating intense euphoria in your brain.

You were definitely nervous and timorous but fuck, you wanted him to feed your desires and take you heatedly.

“Would the backseat be more comfortable?” you finally manage to speak, viewing him with doe eyes. You knew what you were implying— a bold move for you but you now know that he wants it, too.

Patience never really was your thing.

Jeno’s lips curl upwards, sending you a knowing-look in response to your comment. He gestures with his head to the backseat, “You wanna?”

You merely swallow and nod your head, eventually letting out a faint ‘yes.’

Excitement charges him up in how fast things turned. He opens his own door first, with you following and opening yours a second after, making your way to the backseat on your respective sides.

Frisson is present within the pit of your stomach as you move to the back. Your body hairs are raised due to the tingling sensation rippling all throughout your skin.

You were excited but apprehensive. You were suddenly taking a leap into a new adventure, which was you about to get fucked by your new neighbor in the backseat— in a school parking lot. It was definitely indecent, but lust persisted.

Your pupils flickered around nervously as you each sat in the back, growing sweaty with every second that passes, wondering how this was going to play out.

Jeno takes note of your body language and immediately speaks up. “Are you okay with this? We don’t have to do anything if you aren’t comfortable.”

“I’m okay, just a bit awkward.” you sigh out with a slight laugh.

He smiles and looks down at the decent amount of empty space in between you two.

“C’mere.” he says, signaling towards his lap.

You take a breath as you slip out of your shoes and move closer to him. Jeno stretches his arms out, pulling your weight to seat you on his lap. Your legs wrap around his waist, and your body stills, in disbelief that you’ve found yourself in this foreign position.

Although patience wasn’t your thing, this situation was unfamiliar to you. About to get fucked by someone you barely met was crazy for you. You craved him, but you were also scared something was going to go wrong, whether it was from you or him.

Jeno’s left hand rests on the small of your back, drawing circles with his thumb over the fabric of your t-shirt. His other hand slowly reaches towards the apple of your cheek, rubbing it carefully with the pad of his thumb.

Your tummy flutters wildly from his small touches and the desire emanating from his eyes as he scans you.

“Relax for me, pretty.”

“Can you touch me, hm?”

You don’t verbally respond. You pupils go back and forth between his face and neck as you hook your arms around the thick skin. Your lips parted in being careful with your movements, still in disbelief of this current moment. He called you pretty again.

He smiles at the feeling of your arms around him, and lowers his thumb down your face until it reached your lips, playing with your bottom lip, eyes hooked to something so inviting.

Your own eyes seek his lips, watching the tip of his tongue slip out to give his own a lick, making you force to resist in shifting in his lap out of anticipation or letting out a whimper.

He’s the one to rip the tension by seizing a kiss from you. He gently pulls your face in, and as his lips meet yours, your only focus was on the heat that ignited within you.

The kiss was warm and smokey. It was intense with the way his lips moved jointly with yours.

While you didn’t care for nicotine, the taste of Jeno’s lips was a drug you could see yourself becoming addicted to.

As more seconds pass, the kissing becomes increasingly passionate. You’re practically melting, and it intensifies even more with his scintillating touches.

He protectively keeps a hand around your back, keeping you in place and subtly pushing you in closer towards him. HIs other hand holds your jaw, keeping your face slightly angled and steady.

You can’t help but rub down your clothed crotch against his own, surprising you when your movement draws a deep moan from Jeno, making you quietly gasp.

“Fuck.” he breathes out before he meshes his moist tongue into your hot mouth, making you produce a moan in feeling the wet muscle explore your sensitive erogenous zone.

Your eyes are clenched shut and fingers suddenly find themselves messily fiddling through Jeno’s locks, mind and body lost in the rush of how you’re locked by his lips.

There’s a growing hardness felt through the lightweight material of your shorts. It’s a signal that he wants more, each of your endorphins going nuts by merely making out.

He pulls away from your swollen lips, breathless, hushed gasps filling one another’s ears. Jeno then maneuvers a hand to cradle the back of your head, and brings his face towards your left ear, simultaneously beginning to play with the hem of your shirt.

“Let me take care of you.” his breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

His hands redirect to either side of your waist, feeling you up as he brings his face back and scans your face, awaiting for a verbal response.

“Please.” you whisper, warmth spreading across your skin.

“Please what?” he teases.

“Please undress me. Touch me— my body and pussy. Want you to.” you slip out, swallowing your pride. It was a bit embarrassing to say such things aloud in front of your new neighbor, but fuck it. He wanted you equally as bad.

Fully blushed and flushed out, your eyes fall down to stare blankly at his chest. Jeno is filled with amusement though, and hums in satisfaction at your words.

He smoothly reaches for your jaw and tilts it up so that you’re looking at him properly, bringing a buzz to your pussy from his dominance.

“You’re gonna be so good to me, sweet girl.” he says, caressing your face like you’re made of glass.

He brings you in for a couple more deep kisses, savoring how perfect your lips felt and tasted against his own.

He then confirms again with a nod if you’re okay to proceed further, to which you nod back, allowing him to remove your shirt. He also helps you shimmy out of those cutesy shorts of yours, tossing the clothes somewhere up front.

Although you still have your undergarments on and you agreed to do this, you feel so exposed and vulnerable now. Jeno was still fully clothed while he began to fiddle with your bra strap, which made this feel unfair.

“Let me take off your shirt.” you whined and batted your lashes at Jeno, causing him to halt his attempt in wanting to remove your bra next.

He can’t help but smile as you grab onto his flannel shirt, waiting for him to give you the signal to remove it. You were so fucking cute.

“My bad, pretty. I’m all yours.” he kissed your cheek before allowing you to do so, which made you burn inside with all kinds of sensual emotions.

He watched you in awe as you shakily started to undo all his buttons, entertained in seeing the curiosity behind your eyes of unveiling what lies beneath the fabric.

With his shirt now open, he fully removed it himself by pulling off the sleeves and threw it in the growing pile up front, leaving his entire torso bare.

Now uncovered, you can’t help the admiration beholding your eyes as you view his exposed skin.

It shouldn’t have been such a shocker that a handsome face like his had the perfect body to match: hard chest, sculpted abs, and lean waist that contrasted from his broad shoulders.

You really lucked out.

“Like what you see?” Jeno can’t help but snicker, aware that he had this effect on people. You just boosted his ego even more.

You can’t help but giggle at the cliche line, eyes timidly flying away from his torso. Unfortunately he doesn’t get a verbal response from you, but he knows how you feel inside.

“For the record… I definitely like what I see.” he traces the edges of your body, appreciating your skin and details.

Your eyes redirect to his face, watching him eye you hungrily, his fingers beginning to delicately feather over the lace detailing of your bra. Your breathing slows, air tense with you seated over him and his vision glued heartily on you.

His eyes find yours with his fingers still over your bra. You pump your chest out a bit, gesturing to him that you want things to proceed and to remove the rest of your garments.

He immediately leads his hands to your back, unhooking your lacy bra. Your mounds spill out as he removes it and tosses it to the side, the sight making his cock so pumped, full of blood.

“Beautiful girl.” he mumbles, then latches his mouth onto the underside of your ear, making you angle your face to give him better access.

The open-mouth kisses he leaves activates the nerves around your neck. It tickles for a second, but he hits that sweet spot of yours, making you melt.

You’d give into any demand of his with the way his warm lips suck and nibble over your delicate skin. You grind down into him, arms hooked around his neck, clutching for security or else you’d probably melt away.

Your sex only covered by thin panties rutting against his cock straining through his jeans has him groaning into your neck. He zealously continues to suck on your neck, adding gentle bites and hot licks in between, making you arch your neck to the front and moan out of pure bliss. You secretly hope he’d leave a mark or two, so you’d have a visual reminder of this heated night for a few days.

His kisses meander to your throat and chest, tongue sliding out to trace all around one of your areolas, lips then enfolding over the nipple.

Squeals of delight reign free from your throat at Jeno’s foreplay, continuing while he engulfs and sucks both your firm nipples.

“You sound so pretty for me, girly.” he rasps out, dragging his lips over your fleshy, supple breasts.

The nickname sends lightning straight to your core, making you whimper in neediness.

Jeno ends the fun with enjoying your tits to start the pleasure awaiting for him from your cunt.

His left hand holds you while his right hand travels down your tummy, until it reaches the bit of skin below your navel.

There’s a dark appetite visible in his orbs. He looks at you for any sign of uneasiness while his hand goes down. Your breath only hitches, pussy tingling with a quiet gasp from your mouth once his fingers rubbed down to your panty-covered cunt.

It’s so damp and warm down here, he thinks to himself.

“So horny, aren’t we now?”

The way he talks to you alone makes you ignite within.

He decides to pull your underwear to the side, his fingers now coming in full, bare contact with the outside of your pussy.

You’re practically holding your breath at this point, waiting for him to play with you, anticipating the feeling.

“Me too.” he utters, answering his own rhetorical question before he starts running his fingers slowly around your clit.

His touch on your swelling bud causes another hushed gasp to come from you. He’s beyond pleased by listening to all the noises your voice produces due to his sultry touches.

His finger tips slid over your clit and then inched down, feeling the outside of your sex and letting you grow accustomed to his touch.

He ends up sliding one finger up your hole, leaving your mouth ajar and body to quiver from him inserting it in.

Jeno’s tongue licks around his teeth while he fingers you, your walls so tight around his finger.

“Relax for me, hm?” he leans in to kiss you, easing your body to the feeling.

His lips continuously colliding with your own makes you lost for a moment, body fuzzy and loosened up until he decides to squeeze in another finger.

The jolt of pressure wrenched a moan out of you, making Jeno draw back to bite his lip and laugh quietly. It was such a turn on for him to listen and see the beautiful noises and faces you make— and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

He was prepping your pussy for his own length, already salivating in thinking of you taking him whole.

His long, thick fingers curl into a ‘hook’ motion, causing your legs to shake in lust and a shiver runs inside your core that tingled.

“Mhmmm…” you mewled, starting to subconsciously grind and meet the movements of his fingers toying with your moist and velvety sex.

Watching your responses to his movements feels so good to Jeno. He can feel you start to clamp around his digits, making his own mouth open and turn into a smirk. His cock is painfully hard, begging to be free and feel that clamping sensation that his own fingers do. He really hates to rip you from nearing your climax, but he’d rather you both cum together, your body underneath his.

With that, he halts his movements and removes his fingers. A broken whine rips from your throat at the feeling of him leaving your needy cunt. You could practically cry. Desperation clouded over you.

Jeno quickly quiets you down with now inserting those sticky fingers of his inside your mouth, causing you to hum around his digits, eyes wide and then closed shut.

The fullness and heaviness from his fingers and your own essence weighing over your tongue has your pussy clenching over nothing. You eagerly suck your wetness from his fingers, not bothered that he was just in you. This was all so racy.

“Such a good girl for me— fuck.” he groans, watching you suck his fingers in, your teeth faintly raking over them, cock twitching at how dirty this sweet girl was.

“Gonna make you cum from my cock, don’t worry.”

He removes his fingers from your mouth, pulling you off his lap, motioning you to lay back down.

Your heart rate picks up as you carefully lie over his backseat. He traces the delicate curves of your hips and finds his way to the band of your underwear, you each sharing a nod of consent for him to remove them.

He tugs them down and off, tossing them and he gets you to pull your knees up, allowing more room for Jeno within this limited space.

He mentally whistles at the sight of your princess parts and the position you’re in, waiting for him to take you in the back of his car.

He doesn’t waste anymore time and hastily gets rid of his confining jeans and briefs, his cock immediately standing proudly once his underwear is pulled off.

The sight of his big and thick, towering manhood has your breath stuck in your throat.

While he moves and reaches over to dig for a condom in his glove compartment, your palms become sweaty in the thought of him squeezing his length inside you.

He looked absolutely delicious, but you weren’t sure if you could handle someone as big as him.

Jeno finds a condom, ripping the plastic open with his teeth and flings the wrapper out of sight. He stretches the rubber over his length, precum already leaking from his tip.

As he inches towards you, you can’t help but voice your concern.

“Will it fit? you shakily breathed.

Jeno can’t help but tilt his head, staring at you intently. His lips can’t help but curl, offering you a reassuring smile.

His lips suddenly find themselves over your knees, pressing a gentle kiss over both of them, making your heart pump with fondness.

“We will make it fit.”

“Let me know if it hurts, okay? Don’t want you in pain, pretty.”

“Okay.” is all you say, still sweaty, but ready for him to enter you, core aching to be touched again.

He massages the inside of your thighs with care, trying to ease you up some more. He grabs his length and rubs it along your folds— especially dragging the tip past your clit, making you moan at the sensation.

He finally takes it upon him to prudently push his cock into your entrance, his mouth open while he starts to stretch you out.

Your legs immediately hook around him and rest on his lower back, meanwhile your arms decide to cling onto his beefy biceps for support. You cry out a moan from the pressure.

“It’s okay, girly, I got you.”

“You’re safe with me. Gonna take care of you.” Jeno’s breath fans over your face before he captures your lips with his. His hips slowly begin to roll as you kissed him back with enthusiasm, a burst of adrenaline racing through your bloodstream.

Your walls practically swallowed him, cock fitting so snug inside you. His left hand brushed into your hair, running his fingers loosely around your locks, making you relax from his touch.

“God! You— you’re so big.” you blatantly puffed out, starting to feel his thick cock brush past your walls.

“Yeah? You can take it, pretty— right?” the blood in Jeno’s body starts to boil due to the warmth encompassing his length, and from the sense of pride filling him from your reaction to his size.

He begins to start a steady pace with his hip movements, sliding his cock in and out— not all the way, but enough to stimulate your sensitive walls.

He falls into a natural pattern as your body accepts him well. Your vision darts upwards towards the roof of the car, beginning to lose yourself to his fat cock.

Though it quickly lowers again when his head dips into your right breast, tongue slipping out and starting to twist around your erect nipple.

A mewl jumps out of you, hands redirecting to his muscular back with your nails pressing tightly into his skin.

“C’mon, talk to me.” Jeno rasps, making brief eye contact with you for a second before he briskly attacks your entire right breast with his mouth. He ferociously makes out with your mound and marks you, painting you with reddish-purple splotches and leaving the flesh sheening in spit.

His hunger for attention and to get you both off is ardent. Every other thrust into you is rigid. He was pacing himself at first to start off, but now his rhythm increases to fuck you hard and his length travels into you deep. He has no intention in holding back his horniness.

Lack of words from you aside from the whimpers and moans has him moving a hand to touch and toy with your clit. His calloused fingers alternate between softly pinching and sliding his fingers in a back-and-forth motion along the puffy bud.

“Oh— God! Jeno!” the attentiveness he shows to your aching clit while ramming into you has you scream his name. It has you automatically canting your hips up to meet his thrusts into you.

Your reactions and hearing his name from your voice drives Jeno wild. Breathy grunts leave his mouth, hips continuing in chasing both of your highs.

The current setting and moment is electrifying. Fucking in the car in a school parking lot was obscene and limited compared to bed space, but it was still extremely mind-numbing and euphoric sex.

Your frame caged under Jeno’s ripped body is like a dream. You felt so helpless in this position, but couldn’t possibly wish for him to stop. It was so hot seeing and feeling his figure fuck you into oblivion.

Your body rocking over the leather car seats only amplifies your feeling of sensitivity and arousal. God, how amazing it felt for Jeno to be pleasing you in this way was. You can’t even imagine how good it would be to fuck in other ways— in other places, with him.

His relentless efforts has your mouth stuck open. The arousement increases the amount of saliva within your mouth. Surprise catches you when some of it seeps out the corner of your mouth.

Your tongue lolls out in attempt to catch the drool before it fully falls, failing miserably as it rapidly trickles down from the corner, to your chin. Quickly, you wipe it off messily and then place your hand back over his skin, but it’s obvious that Jeno sees what just happened, as he’s right over you— much to your embarrassment.

Though, his cock surges in amusement, and so does his other head. You were literally drooling over his cock. How fucking sexy was that? Wonder how’d you look on your knees giving him the messiest head. Oh how he hopes to have that thought come to life one day.

“Mhm. So hot— fucking my cute, pretty neighbor. You like that too, hm? You like the feeling of your big neighbor on top and inside of you?” he teases you, watching your pretty figure being ruined beautifully by him. His filthy words mix with his dirty, animalistic movements.

“Feels so full and good, Jeno!” you choke out. You’re blissed out, feeling like the band in your core may snap soon.

There you go saying his name again, making Jeno groan repeatedly in ecstasy, dragging his cock deep into you, his weighty sack occasionally slapping against your bottom.

“Yeah? So full of me, pretty.”

“Taking me so well, like a good girl.”

Heat swells in your cheeks from his comments and the hot temperature and pressure felt as he fucks you. As much as you savor it, it’s becoming too much. The finish line is coming close to being ripped apart.

The thrill in the pit of your stomach has it churning. His long, deep strokes, each of your various moans bouncing off the tinted windows, his gruffly voice, and his finger-work over your sensitive bud— it’s all captivating you to feel an abundance of dopamine rush.

A shiver in your core tingles consistently. You’re beginning to lose control. It’s like you’re stoned and can’t focus on anything aside from the intensity of that tingly pressure present within you.

“Gonna cum, Jeno.” your voice cracked while your muscles tightened.

“Fuck,” he hisses at the tight grip of your walls swallowing him from the tip to base.

Your eyes rolled back behind your trembling lashes, and he watches with a keen stare and relishes in your smutty sounds. It all only encourages him to keep persisting to reach the peak.

And then, you finally break.

Your fluid expels from your pussy, lubricating your walls and leaving you a whimpering, wet mess.

Jeno pushes through your spasming, feeling the warmth spreading in your heated cunt through his condom. His own muscles can’t resist in clenching hard. He pushed you over the edge and possessed your mind and body with euphoria.

It’s practically heaven. His balls tighten and eyebrows push together with hips starting to slow down as strings of cum begin to fill his condom. It’s so relieving that a few guttural moans come out from his throat.

His hot seed falling into the condom is so fulfilling, sack emptied. All this activity has left him sweaty all over and mouth dry. His chest continues to heave and he carefully pulls out of you.

You shake and shiver now that the tension is dying down, and your muscles try to relax after the satisfying orgasm.

Jeno is quick to remove his used condom and tie it, abandoning it in a random spot in the car. He’ll of course, clean his car later.

He reaches towards the front of the car to search for his shirt, and then edges back to you.

“Hey, you were amazing, sweet girl. Let me help you.” Jeno spoke softly to you while the back of his fingers stroke one of your shaky thighs.

He began to use his shirt as a rag for any wetness seeping out and around the outside of your cunt.

You couldn’t help but flush at the aftercare he shows you, even while in a car and not hesitating to sacrifice his shirt to wipe your spills. Seems like chivalry isn’t dead after all.

“Thank you.” you say to him when he’s finished.

He just smiles at you, eyes crinkling as he sticks out a hand for you to grab, and helps you sit up next to him.

Still both fully naked, you still feel flushed and exposed now that the sex was over. Your breasts hanging out and his cock lying limp over his thigh was too hard to ignore. Jeno notices, and quickly gathers your t-shirt for you and his briefs for him, making you thank him once again.

You don’t know what to say now and he doesn’t know what to do. It’s obvious now that you two have an attraction to one another. But, where do you two go from here? Will this be a one time thing? Or maybe a friends-with-benefits type of deal? Guess you didn’t need a label right away, you barely know him. But you know you needed more of him, in any way— sexual or not.

In the midst of each of your silence, Jeno decides to reach for your hand, clasping his fingers with your own under his. He gently squeezes your hand, causing your own legs to squeeze together, beginning to feel a sense of giddiness inside.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks, thumb beginning to soothe you as he drags it back and forth the side of your hand.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” the words leap out of you, making you cringe as soon as they come out.

Mortification washes over you. Why the fuck would you ask that? What are you even implying?

Your sudden question makes him chuckle and grin, especially now that you already fucked. You guys are just now having this conversation.

“No Y/n, I don’t. I’m one-hundred percent single.” he smirks at you, thumb still tracing your skin.

His answer is pleasing to your ears. You try not to show how obviously happy you are with that. A faint smile is all you allow yourself to show.

“You don’t have a boyfriend now, do you?” he tilts his head at you, eyes playful.

“I don’t.” you spoke softly.

Just like you, Jeno finds himself content with your answer.

“Good girl.”

ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

[deen-djarin]

Suds n’ Trunks

Summary: Joel ordered a car washing service…bikini car washing service.

Tags: 18+, No Outbreak!Joel, Cheeky Flirty!Reader, Porn with a sprinkle of plot, Daddy kink, Choking, Joel is a menace and so is reader, Oral (m & f receiving), Unprotected P-in-V, Consensual Creampie

—

The sun shone on the perfect suburban streets of Austin, Texas. So hot you could fry an egg if you wanted to. You rolled your windows down, driving down a neighborhood you’re not familiar with, and pulled up at the house that sits in the cul de sac, a dirty- no filthy ford pickup truck parked on its driveway.

This must be the place.

A sigh fell from your lips as you hopped off your car with your supplies in hand; a bucket, sponge, microfiber rag, and various soaps for different parts of the car. The heat was even worse after you’ve left the comfort of your air conditioned car, but the thought of being out of your clothes and soaked in suds and the cool water excites you.

Once you’ve discovered this lucrative market of bored, horny, lonely middle aged suburban guys— eager to see a show, and maybe get their car cleaned as well, you start to do this gig every summer. The money is good plus these guys tip generously.

Your service by its core is nothing but a mobile car wash, but the carwash is being done by you, clad in a skimpy bikini. c’mon, who wouldn’t want that right?

When you scored your first customer, you became a spectacle for the neighborhood. Your client shamelessly pulls out a lawn chair, having a grand ol’ time “enjoying the sun” as you wash their car. Neighbors walking out their houses mowing their already perfectly trimmed lawn, walking their dogs, cats, and some approached your client for a neighborly talk they probably haven’t had in months.

You’ve gotten the whole neighborhood out of their house basically, then your client list doubles with those people coming over to you and asking to do theirs next. Some cars don't even need washing, but you do them anyway with a smile knowing you’re gonna eat good that night.

Ever since then you decided to do this gig every summer, cheekily naming your little business “Suds ‘n Trunks”.

—

You ring the doorbell of the Miller’s residence and step back. You could hear a soft grumble from behind the door before it opened and reveal a scruffy, middle aged, handsome man. your eyes scans him quickly, his hair tousled, his shoulders broad, big arms, big hands, Jesus Christ you want to just-

“Can I help you?”

His gruff, deep, Texan drawl snaps you out of your trance and brings you back to reality.

“Uhm yes, Mr. Miller? you called for a car wash?” You asked him with a sweet voice you come to learn that older men love, it always works like a charm, making them tip you a fat wad of cash— these men just craved attention from a pretty girl, and you’re happy to give that to them.

“Oh..yeah you could uh, it's that one right there,” he motioned to the dirty pickup truck. You give him a smile and nodded, “okay, i’ll go on and get started then.” Joel nodded and shut the door immediately.

—

A red Ford bronco sat on his driveway, absolutely covered in filth. You usually don't deal with this much grime, dust, and mud. Granted, most cars you’ve washed barely need a wash, the clients just wanted to see you wet and covered in suds, which you couldn’t really blame them.

You took a breath and started to step out of your tanktop and shorts, revealing the red matching bikini you’re wearing underneath and started to go to work.

—

Joel was exhausted after doing several construction projects back to back yesterday, from dawn to the ungodly hours of the night resulting in his beloved truck — Shirley— looking like it had been dragged in the mud…literally.

Joel likes to take care of his things, Shirley is no exception. His free time on the weekends is often spent on his truck in the garage, polishing her to perfection. But after all the hard work he did, just the thought of washing her made his back groan in protest.

So he got the number of your services from his coworkers after they commented on the state of Shirley, a smirk planted on their faces and they kept snickering which Joel found odd, but he was too fed up and exhausted to think twice on booking your services.

Joel grunts as he settles on his couch, his cold bottle of beer in one hand, the tv remote on the other. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, and turned on the TV.

It's finally his time for him to take his hard-earned relaxation time. which should be easy, but he could hear the annoying sputtering sound of his neighbor’s lawnmower.

That thing needs more oil. He thought to himself as he took a sip of his beer.

Then another sound of a lawnmower sounded from the other side of the house, even more annoying than the first.

What the fuck? Why are they all mowin’ the lawn at the same time? at this hour? he thought.

Then comes the obnoxious yapping of Mr. Thompson's french bulldog and chihuahua.

What the hell is goin’ on? it's a whole ruckus out there.

He groaned, frustrated that the whole neighborhood seems to be against his well deserved relaxing time. He grumbled as he strides towards his window, drawing up the blinds to see what the fuck is going on out there.

His eyes nearly bulged out, blush quickly crept up his neck to his cheeks, and his cock twitching in his pants instantly at the sight.

You, bend over in the hood of his car, wet, covered in suds, in a fucking bikini. He tried to look away, he really did, but the way your hips sways, your ass jiggled, as you scrubbed hard with the caked on mud on his truck— it was hypnotizing.

—

“What the hell are ya doin’?”

The sight of Joel's furrowed brow as he stared at you in your revealing outfit was a mix of disapproval and desire. Your sweet smile remained as you answered his question, "Mr. Miller! I'm just washing your car."

His gaze roamed over you, making you shiver with anticipation. "In that?" He grunted, clearly torn between his disgust and arousal. "Well, yes… It's part of my service."

The man stood silent for a moment, his confusion palpable. "Part of your service?"

"Uhm, yeah... It's a bikini car wash service… You didn't know?" you tilted your head, confused.

Joel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How the hell was I supposed to know?"

"The name is Suds 'n' Trunks," you reminded him softly.

"I know what it's called!" he huffed, clearly frustrated.

Unsure of how to proceed, you hesitated. "So, uhm, you want me to just dress up and go or—"

"No, finish your job," he grumbled, still irritated. Your eyes trailed down to the growing tent in his jeans, confirming the source of his conflicting emotions.

You hid your smirk and purred, "Yes, sir," before returning to your task. The knowledge that you had such a potent effect on him only fueled your desire to please him.

—

Your back is even more curved now, ass sticking up more than they should as you washed the side of his truck, knowing Joel is looking– watching you like a hawk while he sits on the porch, a beer in his hand and a cigarette on the other. you turned your head over your shoulder just to give him a small smile, which he returned with his jaw clenching.

You bask under his gaze, your body tingling, giving him the best show you’ve ever given. you squatted as you started to clean the lower part of the truck, your ass jiggle with every hard scrub you give.

The tension between the two of you is palpable, leaving Joel frustrated, he knows damn well you’re taunting him. He’s torn between wanting to yell at you for acting so unprofessional and embarrassing him in front of the watchful eyes of his nosy neighbors— or fucking you against the truck for payback.

He sits there watching you, contemplating on what to do. You gave him another cheeky look over your shoulder and that was it, his last resolve snapped, fuck it.

—

“Careful with her,” he said lowly as he approached you.

You turned your head, batting your eyelashes, “Hm?”

“You’re goin’ too hard on her, just painted that part,” he murmured as he got closer, just right behind you.

“But the mud is really caked on this part,” you told him and went back to scrubbing.

“A-ah, hey,” he tutted and leaned down behind you, his large palms sitting atop of yours “Gentle…easy does it,” he murmured, his hot breath fanned against your ear.

You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan as you felt his hardness pressed against your thigh. Your hand following his movements, “There we go…there we go, good girl,” he murmured and you swore every part of your body shivered.

“This is gonna take longer to finish, sir,” you murmured, your voice a mere whisper as you turned your head to him.

“I know…but you’re gonna get a bigger reward out of it, how’s that sound hm?” he muttered to your ear before abruptly pulling away from you and sitting back on the porch.

your breath hitched, heartbeat skipping, and the heat between your legs grew hotter. You turned your head towards him to see him sitting back at his porch, his head nodded at you to continue your work, a small smirk curved his lips.

—

You’re halfway done with the truck when his neighbor starts to approach you, a middle aged guy you came to learn named Michael. He’s been clearly hitting on you, and trying to get a closer look on what you’re doing. which usually doesn’t bother you but you could practically feel Joel's watchful eyes boring into your back.

“So you do this for a living?” he asked as he stood a few feet away from you, “It's just a summer gig i do,” you replied with a small smile, keeping the response light.

"Sweet, it's nice seeing a young, beautiful, hard-working woman," he chuckled. Your jaw tensed for a moment before you forced a tight-lipped smile.

"Can you do my car next? It's pretty dirty too," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. You felt a flush of annoyance, but your eyes met Joel's, who glared disapprovingly from his porch.

"Well, uh..." you hesitated, glancing back at Joel. He shook his head, a clear indication that he didn't want you to entertain Michael's advances. "Sorry, Michael. I'm booked for today... I gotta go somewhere after this."

Michael sighed, "Aw, just my luck," he lamented. "I'll ask Joel for your number, huh? I'll book you as soon as you're free." You chuckled, "Yeah, you go do that."

Michael made his way over to Joel, asking for your number. Joel nodded, but with a grunt, he gave Michael the wrong number. A smirk played on your lips as you returned to your work.

—

After what feels like forever you finally finished with the last drag of your microfiber rag. You let out a sigh and turned around to Joel sauntering his way. “All done Mr. Miller,” you purred.

He looked at his truck, all clean and shiny. A satisfied smirk graced his face, “you did a good job” he praised. “Good enough to get that reward?” you murmured with your head tilted innocently. Joel let out a small chuckle “Mmhm... come on inside and i’ll get it sorted for you, pretty girl.”

Your eyes gleamed with lust and you bit your lip in anticipation as he led you inside his house. The wind hits your wet body, the coolness leaves your nipples even harder, your body tingling with need.

By the time the two of you were inside, Joel’s body was taut, like a spring ready to burst. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, his large palms grab a hold of your wet body and pinned you against his door, you let out a surprised whimper at his sudden actions.

“Been a good girl for me huh? Takin’ care of my truck,” he murmured as he leaned down and his lips grazed your jaw to the skin under your ear. “Been naughty too haven’t you? Tauntin’ me with this sweet ass of yours,” he grabbed your ass and gave it a hard squeeze making you let out a small moan, he pulled you closer, his hard cock pressing against your wet bikini bottoms.

You couldn’t help but grind your hips against him, needy and desperate for friction, eliciting a small moan from you and a groan from him. “What do you have to say about that huh? Pretty girl?,” he muttered and nibbled on your earlobe, “I’m sorry sir” you panted softly.

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem to be that sorry,” he chuckled lowly, his voice gravely and his accent was thicker than before “Think I would have to punish you… you thought it was funny huh? Makin’ me hard as a rock with those fucking neighbors watchin’?” he growled to your ear and slapped your ass, you whimpered and jolted forwards.

“I’m sorry sir..please don't punish me,” you whined and bit your lip. “You’re sorry huh? Go on, pretty thing, show me how sorry you are,” he murmured. You didn't need to be told twice, you fell to your knees, eyes wide as you looked up to his face, hands deftly undoing his belt and jeans and pulling it down along with his boxers.

Your mouth salivated just from the sight of his cock springing free, thick, veiny, and throbbing, just how you thought it would be. He gave you a nod to tell you ‘go on’, you leaned down and darted your tongue out, tasting the heady taste of his precum. He groaned and tossed his head back, hand tangling in your hair and pulled you in, you hummed and finally wrapped your mouth around his girth with a small whimper. Your jaw straining to accommodate him, tongue moving with practiced ease as you sink down deeper, taking in more of him.

“Fuck yeah..good fuckin’ girl…thats it,” he muttered and started to guide your head the way he wanted, you thrive with his praises, taking in him as deep as you could. Gagging and sputtering here and there but you didn't stop at all in search of his approval and satisfaction, you didn’t want to stop. The room was filled with the sound of his grunts and heavy breaths, along with the obscene sounds from you and your muffled whimpers.

Joel nearly came when he saw you starting to snake your hand between your legs, “Naughty fuckin’ slut, touchin’ yourself huh?” he groaned and started to thrust into your mouth, holding your head in place. “You want me to take care of that? Hm?” he growled and you whined as an answer. Suddenly he abruptly pulled you away from his cock, “get on the fuckin’ couch,” he muttered, you scrambled off the floor and quickly gotten on the nearby couch, “on your hands and knees, sweetheart,” he commanded and you did as he said, bending over, facing the backrest of the couch.

He stood behind you and pushed you legs wider, your head craned over your shoulder to look at him with your needy expression, bottom lip between your teeth. He gripped your chin and he leaned down, finally crashing his lips to yours. He was rough, didn’t even hesitate on pushing his tongue into your mouth, tongue dominating yours, making you whine and push your hips back, desperate, begging for him.

His kiss left you panting as he pulled away, he trailed kisses down your back, biting on the knot that holds your bikini top together and pulling on it and letting it unravel, his hand started to grope your tits, playing, pinching, pulling on your sensitive nipples. “Mr. Miller,” you panted “please..”

“Use your word, Baby, what do you need?” he murmured to the crook of your neck. You whimpered and kept moving your hips, “anything- please- your finger, mouth- anything, i need you,” you rambled desperately. Joel chuckled darkly, his large fingers playing with the knots of your bikini bottoms, “needy little thing,” he murmured before pulling on the knots and unraveling the red wet fabric, making it fall to the couch.

Joel practically growled at the sight before him, you, bent over with your ass high in the air, naked, your pussy dripping and ready for him. “Look at you..” he murmured and leaned down, groping your ass and pushing it apart to reveal more of you. “Mmh..” he grumbles before leaning down and placing a broad lick on your cunt. “Oh- god- Mr- mmhngh! Mr. Miller” you whined and pushed your hips more to his face. Joel groaned and started to really eat you out, his large palms splayed on your ass, face completely buried in your drooling pussy. “It's Joel, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he pulled away from your cunt for a second, “I wanna hear ya moan my name.”

“Joel..” you breathed, getting used to the feel of his name on your lips. Joel started to flick his tongue rapidly on your clit, making your eyes roll back and moan out his name, “fuck- ahh! Joel!” He grunted in response, “yeah that’s it, moan my name…mmhhh good fuckin’ girl.”

You were falling apart already at the hands of his tongue, moving on your pussy with practiced ease. Joel relished the sounds of your moans, and the sweet and tangy taste of your cunt. He groaned and started to push his thick fingers to your entrance, “Joel! Ahnghh! F-fuck! mmhngh!!” you cried out, he grunted and pulled away from your pussy for a second, “That’s it baby, you’re gonna cum hm? Gonna be a good girl an cum on my face?” he muttered and curled his digits to hit that heavenly spot within you, you whined in response, barely able to come up with words but nodded with your eyes closed in pleasure. “Good girl, c’mon, come on my face” he panted and started double his efforts, his tongue flicking on your sensitive clit, slurping all your juices, whilst his fingers kept hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, you back arched and your eyes rolled back, you swore you saw stars. His name kept falling from your lips in between moans and whimpers which he responded with praises.

“good girl, that’s it”

“you’re so pretty when you cum for me”

“tastes so good baby, there you go..”

He peppered kisses across your shoulders and back as he waited for you to come down from your high. “joel..” you panted and kept pushing your hips back to grind against his throbbing cock, eliciting a groan from his lips, “yeah? you want my cock, pretty girl?” he muttered and rutted his hips against you, his cock sliding against your cunt. “yes- please joel- please-“ you let out a loud moan when he suddenly pushed his cock into your core.

“fuuuck” he groaned as he pushed himself in “fuck- shit, baby you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he panted and gripped your hips tight. “joel! oh- f-fuck hhngh!” you whimpered and gripped the back of the couch. Joel pulled back until his cock is almost fully slipped back, you whined at the loss of his stretch, then he slammed back in. “Fuck! Oh- f-fuuckk! Joeel!!” you cried out, “Yeah baby that’s it- shit- yeah take it baby, take it” he growled to your ear and wrapped your hair on his hand and yanked it back. Your head tilted back at the force and he crashed his lips to yours again, swalowing all your moans and whimpers as he fucked you with a relentless pace.

“J-joel” you warned between pants, “Yeah i know baby- fuck- yeah i can feel it,” he groaned and panted “c’mon baby give it to me, cum on my cock, c’mon” he murmured and went faster. The sound of his skin smacking against yours gets louder and louder, the couch groaned and creaked in protest. You could barely utter any coherent words at this point, just slurring his name and how good it feels between moans and pants.

Your back arched and trembles as you cry out his name like a prayer. Joel slowed down for a second, letting you ride out the orgasm, “there you go…hmm there you go” he muttered soothingly, his hips rocking deliberately, slowly. “You can take more, sweetheart?” he murmured to your ear, you couldn’t help but nod. ”Good girl,” he praised to your ear and kissed your jaw before his arm wrapped around your waist, the other around your chest and pulled you up until his chest pressed against your back. He resumed his hard relentless thrusts, his hand on your chest groping and playing with your hard nipples. you felt like floating at this point, just taking everything he gave you like a good girl.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He growled to your ear, you could barely talk just letting out sounds of pleasure, he spanked your ass hard and you gasped out a moan, “Yours! Hahngh! All yours!” you whined, Joel gripped your neck and pulled you closer to him “Who?” he demanded, you panted and choked out, “Yours daddy!” bingo.

He growled and bent you over again, his hand still tight on your neck, choking you just right. “Yeah that’s right, such a good girl for daddy,” he muttered and pounded into you. You kept choking out moans, calling him daddy over and over. He shifted his position, propping one leg on the couch to get a different angle, deeper, and it allowed him to reach that spot within you. “Oh my g- aahhngh!! daddy!! right there, oh fuck- fuck me right there!!” you cried out. He grunted and let out a dark chuckle, “there sweetheart?” he taunted as he thrusted extra hard aiming at that spot again. “yes!! yes- yes please- please i- daddy please” you rambled, begging for him, his cock has reduced you to nothing but desperate and needy. “well since you asked so nicely,” he said coyly before hitting that spot over and over again.

You felt you’re gonna shatter yet again in any second, a ticking time bomb set on your lower belly. “D-daddy i’m- hah- i’m-” you could barely finish your choked out sentence. “Yeah? Gonna cum again for daddy?” he panted to your ear, all you could do was nodded and give a whimper of confirmation. He chuckled darkly and his hand snaked down to rub your clit with fervor while his hips kept pounding to your ass, “Go on then, come for me, come for daddy,” he muttered to your ear.

Your vision blurred and you saw white. It feels like you’re barely conscious, your third orgasm hits you even harder than the last. You didn’t noticed whats happening until joel groaned, “Fuck yeah you’re squirtin’ on me baby- good girl- hhnngh good fuckin’ girl.” Your thighs trembled, wet with your release, red from his thrusts.

He finally let go of your neck and you gasped out for much needed air, his thrusts started to stutter. “Where do you want it?” he panted to your ear, “Inside, inside daddy, please,” you begged and started to move your hips to meet his. Joel couldn’t hold back any longer, 1, 2, 3 hard thrusts later and he came completely undone inside you. “Fuuuckk!! Fuck yeah- oh shit baby” he moaned, “fuck! makin’ me cum so much, pretty girl…oh yeah good fuckin’ girl,” he panted to your ear.

After his hips stilled, he pulled out of you, making you whine and clench around nothing, pushing his hot sticky seed out of you.

He chuckled and whispered to your ear, “look at you…all messy n’ dirty,” he cooed. “You cleaned my truck now it's time for me to clean you,” he murmured before peppering kisses down your spine yet again.

—

author’s note: THIS WAS MY FIRST FIC EVER AHSHSHEH so forgive me if its shitty or the grammar is horrible bc english is my 2nd language:3 ALSO i have never written smut before heheheh, your feedback is greatly appreciated!! thank you for reading this horny piece of literature!!

[wondrluv]

୨୧ curbside pickup ; tz11, cc13, lh43, qh43, jh86

➪ summary: after being stood up, y/n was planning on just spending her night crying on the curb before she went home. that was until five boys showed up and took her out.

➪ warnings: reader gets stood up, mentions of cheating, trevor is such a flirt, reader has chemistry with all five of them, definitely typos/not proofread

➪ word count: 5.3k

➪ emma's notes: the first fic since i've left. guys you have no idea how in love i am with this. i got this idea based on a tiktok (at least the first part was, the fair part was all me) but i love this so so so much and i hope you guys do too. okay two things that i am willing to do with this, write and give you guys the letters each of them write and/or a part two where she gets together with one of them (who, you let me know)

© wondrluv ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

She hadn't meant to end up on the curb, mascara streaking down her cheeks as the city buzzed around her, but here she was, wishing she'd never agreed to the date in the first place. She shoved her phone roughly into the pocket of her jacket, curling herself into it further. She turned her attention to the cracks in the sidewalk, tracing the lines and picking at the grass that grew out of some of them. 

When she got bored of that she wrapped her arms around her knees and just buried her head into them, listening to the cars passing by and the distant music from the bar a couple of buildings down. She could hear muffled laughter and talking drawing closer but she was too distracted to care. 

Meanwhile, the group of guys was walking down the sidewalk laughing about a joke one of them had said. They had just been wandering around trying to figure out what they should do that night. It was Luke who spotted the girl first, he paused once his gaze landed on her. At first he thought nothing of it, merely shrugged it off as just someone who was drunk way too early into the night. 

But as the group neared closer, he could hear the soft sniffles and immediately reached his hand out to stop Jack, who was walking beside him, “What?”

Jack raised his eyebrow as he followed Luke’s gaze to where the girl was sitting. He looked back at his younger brother and then back at the girl, “What is it?”

“She’s crying, dumbass.”

The conversation halted the other three’s movements, their laughter slowly fading. They made their way back over to the two, making a little huddle as they discussed what they should do, “Should we do something?”

Quinn crossed his arms, slightly worried about the girl even if she was just a stranger. He listened to the others talk before walking up to her, ignoring the group’s sounds of protests, “Hey.”

The girl jumped slightly, rushing to wipe the tears from her face as she looked up at him, “Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

She looked back down, eyes fixed on her sweater covered hands, before she mumbled, “I’m fine.” She picked at the loose strings coming from the edge of the sleeves, oblivious to the looks and mouthed words the boys were exchanging. 

When minutes had passed she finally looked back up to see the five now completely surrounding her. She could tell they had been planning on going out somewhere, probably having a lot more fun then she would’ve had even if her date had shown up. A few of them sent her an awkward smile while the one she had talked to and one of the taller ones sent her genuine ones. 

“We didn’t mean to bother you,” Luke said, “We were just wondering if you were okay.”

Y/n nodded, “I’m fine… just a bad night, I guess.”

Trevor raised his eyebrows, “Just a bad night?” Jack hit him in the stomach and smiled at the girl apologetically, “Sorry about him.”

She cracked a small smile, the first one since she arrived at the shitty bar two hours ago. Cole took this as an invitation to offer what they had been talking about earlier, “We were going to go get some pizza, do you want to come with?”

She moved her eyes to each one, all of them now having a smile on their face, a sincere one. She blinked, slightly surprised at how willing they were to offer her to come with, “I don’t want to ruin your night…”

“You wouldn’t be ruining anything,” Trevor chimed in, “We were just figuring out what to do anyway, no plans whatsoever.”

She hesitated, still unsure, but as she looked up at them she  couldn’t deny that going to get pizza with five random guys would be better than sitting on the curb alone in the cold. She nodded and whispered, “Okay. Pizza sounds good.”

Luke flashed a grin, holding his hand out to her, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

She took his hand, using it as an aid to stand up. The four immediately fell into step beside them, making small talk with y/n as they made their way down the street. Luke never strayed far from her, occasionally tightening the grip he still had on her hand. 

“What’s your favorite kind of pizza?” Cole stepped closer to her, leaving Jack behind to continue talking to Quinn. 

She shrugged at first before speaking softly, “Just cheese.”

Trevor came up behind her too, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he pushed Luke out of the way, “Plain cheese. My kind of girl.”

She laughed at his comment, catching her footing as Trevor leaned on her. They all continued their walk to the pizza place, stepping in and immediately being hit with the smell of pizza. THey found a table near the back and sat down, placing their drink order with the waiter that came by. 

“So, what had you sitting on the curb crying?”

She tensed slightly, not sure if she should actually tell them but she looked at all of their gazes and noticed how genuine all of them looked so she spoke up, “I was supposed to go on a date tonight. But he stood me up.”

They all collectively scoffed, “What an ass?”

“He doesn’t know what he was missing out on.”

She laughed, “You guys don’t even know me.”

“So? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re a good person.”

Quinn, who had noticed the sadness still lingering in her eyes, inserted himself into the conversation, “I’m assuming that’s not it?”

She smiled sadly, “It would’ve been my first date in a month… since my ex cheated on me.”

The five of them stared at her with wide eyes, “No fucking way.”

“Yep.” Before anyone got a chance to say something, the waiter came around and handed out their drinks before taking their pizza order. 

The waiter walked away and she immediately said something before they could, “So what about you? Who are the five guys that mysteriously decided to take me under their wing for the night?”

“Well I’m Jack, this is my older brother Quinn and my younger brother Luke. And these are my best friends Cole and Trevor.”

They all waved as Jack said their names, smiling awkwardly in return. They all slowly got to know each other, y/n finding out they all played hockey and which teams they played on. She got told many childhood stories, especially about the three brothers since they had known each other for the longest obviously. Eventually, they got their pizza and continued their conversation as they ate. 

When they were done they slowly headed out the door, paying for their meal beforehand. They all stood outside the pizza place and exchanged glances with one another, “So now what?”

“Well, I should probably head home…”

“Nonsense!” Jack screamed, “Come on let’s go do something. You still need some cheering up.”

“Thank you but I don’t want to impose more than I already have.”

They all shook their heads, “Nah, come on. Let’s go to the fair.”

She was hesitant once again but she saw all of their pleading looks and gave in immediately, “Alright fine. Let’s go.”

The five of them cheered and immediately took off down the street, y/n’s laughter filling their ears.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

They six arrived at the fair, y/n looking around in awe. It had been a while since she’d been to a fair or carnival, the bright lights overwhelming her in the slightest. She followed behind the guys, not knowing where exactly she, or they, were heading. She watched from behind them as they hit each other playfully and laughed before Cole fell behind and walked alongside her, “Hey.”

“Hi.” She looked up at him and furrowed her eyebrows, “What’s up?”

“How much do you like rides?”

“Depends on which one.”

“Ferris wheel, swings, tilt-a-whirl.”

“Ferris wheel it is.”

Cole called out to his friends, “Hey! We’re going on the ferris wheel. We’ll meet up with you later.”

The other four waved him off and y/n smiled at him, “Lead the way Caufield.”

Cole practically dragged her in the direction of the ride, hearing her laugh behind him. She squealed as she almost ran into people, yelling out apologies as they passed by. He never let up, continuing his fast paced walk, or run as y/n called it, through the crowds. She told him to slow down multiple times and even then he would only slow his pace in the slightest.

Once they finally arrived there, she panted, “Jeez. Are you trying to kill me?”

“No! I was just really excited. Now come on before the lines get too long.” She nodded and continued her pursuit after him, managing to get in line before the crowd started to gather. 

Cole grinned at her as they stood in line and y/n couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. Cole looked at her and his grin turned crooked, “What?”

“Has anyone told you how contagious your energy is?”

He shrugged, “Sometimes.”

The two continued to stand in silence, y/n gazing around at the multitude of booths that surrounded her. Some were selling food, deep fried twinkies or churros, she made a mental note to come back later to satisfy her sweet tooth. Others were selling trinkets or shirts or bracelets. She looked around at all the people, some little kids bouncing up and down with happiness as they held their parents hands, a group of teens who were taking pictures on a polaroid camera, and a couple who were holding hands and wearing matching t-shirts. Her smile quickly faded from her face and turned into a frown.

Cole noticed the sudden change in her demeanor and he didn’t let it last long, “So, you’ve ever been on a ferris wheel.”

She looked back at him, smiling softly, “Yeah, a few times, but it’s been a while. I forgot how much fun fairs were, I used to go as a kid with my family.”

“They’re the best, especially at night when you reach the top and can see almost the whole fair from up there. Magic or something.”

“Magic huh?” A teasing smile played on her lips as she nudged him. 

“Hey! Don’t judge me. It’s true.”

She just continued to smile as she faced forward, watching as the line continued to move quicker and quicker. Before she knew it, it was her and Cole’s turn to get on, the two of them quickly sitting in their seats and watching as the worker closed the cabin door. It was just Cole and y/n  in there, sitting across from one another. 

“What’s your favorite part?” She looked over at him with curious eyes.

He smiled once more before answering, “When you get to the top and are lucky enough that that’s where it stops you.”

She nodded in agreement before looking out the booth, “That’s my favorite part too.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence as the wheel took them around twice before finally stopping at the top. Her breath hitched as they stopped, not expecting it in the slightest. She couldn’t help but think back to Cole’s words earlier, it was truly magical. Every noise seemed to fall deaf on her ears as she gazed out at the lights shining brightly, the mass of people running around below her. 

“I told you.”

She hummed as she looked over at him, “Yeah you did. And for the record I never said you were wrong.”

A few moments passed before she spoke again, “Thank you… for this, for tonight.”

“No need to thank me, I’m glad we ran into you.”

That’s when the ride started to move again, bringing the two of them back to the ground. The ride worker smiled at them once more as they climbed out and waved goodbye before helping the next group of people in the car. Cole and y/n laughed as they stumbled down the road, his hand brushing up against hers. The two blushed in unison, looking down before continuing to walk down the street. 

“Want to go find the others?” Y/n nodded but slowed her pace in the slightest, “But let’s take our time, hm? We’re not in any rush are we?”

Cole grinned again, “Not one bit.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

When they finally found the group of them, they were in the part of the fair that hosted a majority of the carnival games. Jack swung an arm around her, “Well look who’s back. The girl of the hour!”

She blushed again as everyone’s gaze fell upon her, “Hi.”

“So how was the ferris wheel?” Trevor teased as he took a sip of his drink, his raised eyebrows still visible from behind the cup.

“Good.”

“Mhm, what y/n said.” He glared slightly at Trevor but kept his cool for the most part. 

“Haven’t been on a ferris wheel in a while, it was fun.”

“I bet,” Trevor mumbled again and received a smack on the head from Quinn. 

“So, what do you guys want to do next?” Luke interrupted, slightly ticked off from both Trevor’s antics and the blush that was on Cole and y/n’s face. 

They all looked at the girl’s face as her eyes wandered up and down the street awaiting her decision. Her gaze finally landed back on them before she spoke, “Who’s good at games?”

Four of the five of them stepped back immediately at her words leaving Luke the only one standing, “I guess that’s me.”

She took ahold of his hand and dragged him down the way to one of the games, Luke only able to send a wave quickly as he stumbled after her. He watched as she talked animatedly about the carnival games, something along the lines of never being able to win one. Something clicked in his brain and he knew he wanted to win something for her. 

They finally reached one of the booths, the two of them coming to a stop immediately, “Do you think you can win?”

She looked up at him with hopeful eyes, “I’ve been trying since I was a kid.”

He nodded, a small part of him knowing there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to but he sure as hell was determined to win. She watched as he stepped up to the worker, handing her a few bucks before picking up the miniature basketballs. 

One after another he missed but his confidence never waivered even as he continued to hand the worker money. After the third try, y/n stepped up and placed her hand on his arm, “Come on, Luke. It’s useless at this point.”

“One more. I promise.”

She relented and allowed him to hand the worker more money before picking the basketballs up again. This time, all the ones he threw made it into the wooden baskets and he cheered before bringing her into a hug and pointing up at the prizes, “Which one do you want?”

She smiled up at him, “The purple cow. Please.”

The worker nodded and took it down before handing it to the girl who beamed as she took it into her arms, “Finally. After 18 plus years.”

He laughed at her, watching as she played with the stuffed animal’s floppy ears, “You know I don’t think cows are supposed to have floppy ears.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she immediately found comfort in the gesture, “Whatever, it’s cute.”

Luke looked down at her and smiled softly, “Yeah, sure is.”

Oblivious to Luke’s gaze and true meaning of his words, she spoke, “C’mon let’s go show everyone what you won me. My hero.”

He chuckled again before leading her back to the group but going as slow as possible to not have to completely leave her side too early. She looked back up at him with a playful smirk, “So Luke, is this your secret talent? Winning impossible carnival games?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Not this time. I think I just got lucky.”

“Lucky huh? Or maybe you’re just too stubborn to give up…” She urged.

He shrugged, “Maybe a little bit of both. But it was worth it to see you smile like that.”

A new blush rose to her cheeks and she changed her gaze to the ground, letting Luke guide her through the crowds, clutching the stuffed cow even closer to her.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

“Look what Luke won me!” She hopped over to the group of boys who snapped their heads to look at her. 

They nodded, less enthusiastic than the girl but still trying to make it seem like they were. Quinn was the first one, “How long did it take him?”

Luke rolled his eyes at his older brother, “Oh shut up.”

“I was just asking!”

Y/n shook her head at the banter and stepped away as they continued to argue back and forth. She ended up next to Jack who immediately took notice that she was now by his side, “Hey there.”

“Hi.”

For a while they didn’t say anything, just watching the fight between Luke and Quinn. Then y/n nudged his side and whispered in his ear, “Fried Twinkie?”

He nodded and grinned walking away with her towards the food. The two made their way down, a lot of the crowd had dispersed to the shows now that they had started. There was a small line forming outside of the food truck that sold the fried twinkies, so the two just stood and made small talk as they waited, “So… fried twinkies, huh? Your go-to carnival snack?”

“Yep, always has been. It’s a classic, too. I’ve been eyeing them since I got to the ferris wheel with Cole.”

“Always has been? How many times have you been?”

They moved up with the line and she shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts, “I used to go all the time with my family when we were kids, but when my siblings grew up and started relenting ‘family quality time’ we just stopped kind of going.”

Jack nodded, “Yeah, I feel that. I mean once we all started to get more serious about hockey we all just kind of forgot to do stuff like that, or at least it was hard to go out without people recognizing us.”

They finally reached the front of the line, the vendor smiling at them happily as he rang up the two fried twinkies. Y/n watched as Jack swiped his card, grateful that the boys had been basically spoiling her since they picked her up on the side of the street. It was hard to believe that this all happened because someone stood her up but she couldn’t find it in herself to care at this point. 

She jumped slightly when she noticed Jack’s hand wave in front of her face, “Lost you there for a sec. Here is your fried Twinkie, m’lady.”

“Why thank you kind sir.” 

The two made their way over to one of the many benches that was set up on the grass. Y/n sat the purple cow on the table next to her, taking a bite of the treat, “I forgot how good these were.”

“I forgot how bad for you these are.”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you don’t indulge in something sweet once in a while, especially since it’s the summer.”

Jack smirked, “I never said that. I just meant that this is fucking greasy as hell.”

She only nodded, taking another bite. The two sat in silence as they ate and then she saw Jack’s hand reaching out, “What’re-”

His thumb landed on the corner of her mouth, wiping some of the filling of the twinkie away, “You got a little something there.”

Her cheeks flushed at the action, though she couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or flustered. Once they were done, they threw their trash away and y/n resumed her grasp on her cow, “Thanks for coming with me.”

“‘Course, I’m glad you’re having a great time. You deserve it, especially after… well you know.”

She frowned slightly and nodded, “Yeah.”

“Hey come on. No frowns anymore. The night isn’t over yet!”

“Oh, it’s not?”

“Nope! I heard there was this karaoke or dance thing happening soon, we’re definitely going. Let’s go find the guys.”

She lagged at his words and ran after him.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The two ran up to the group, Jack practically crashing into Cole, “Whoops sorry.”

Cole shoved him back and y/n laughed at the interaction, “Alright so what’s this I hear about dancing?”

“Well we were going to go to karaoke, but someone said no.”

Eyes turned to Luke who shrugged innocently, “What? I don’t really want to get on stage and sing in front of a bunch of people.”

“Buzzkill. But there’s a band performing right now so we figured we’d go check that out.”

Y/n nodded, “Akright.”

The six of them made their way through the fair, walking to one of the many stages they had there. Y/n reached for the closest hand, which happened to be Quinn’s, scared of getting lost in the crowds. Quinn looked down at her and smiled gently, “Nervous?”

“Yeah, just a little overwhelmed.”

He squeezed her hand, “Well I got you.”

A pink tint covered her cheeks for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. They navigated their way close to the middle of the group, nodding their heads along to the beat of whatever song the band was playing. 

As they settled into the middle of the crowd, the energy of the live music began to seep into Y/N’s bones. The band was playing an upbeat, catchy tune that had the entire audience swaying and moving along to the rhythm. Y/n finally let herself relax into the swing of the crowd.

Quinn, still holding her hand, leaned down to be heard over the music. “Feeling better?”

She nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “Yeah, thanks. This is actually pretty fun.”

“Good,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

As the band transitioned into a slower, more melodic song, Y/N noticed that couples around them started to pair off, swaying together in time with the music. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, but before she could overthink it, Jack nudged her playfully.

“Come on, Y/N,” he said with a grin. “You can’t just stand there. Dance with us!”

Before she could respond, Jack took her other hand, spinning her around playfully before pulling her into a gentle sway. Quinn didn’t let go of her other hand, so she found herself dancing between the two of them, feeling a bit like she was in a scene from a movie.

“See? Not so bad, right?” Jack said, his voice light and teasing.

“Not bad at all,” she agreed, laughing as they continued to sway together.

Cole, Trevor, and Luke were nearby, each of them doing their own version of dancing, Trevor of course going completely against the rhythm of the music. As the song progressed, Jack eventually stepped back, letting Quinn take over fully. Y/N looked up at him, their eyes meeting in a way that made her heart flutter. The earlier awkwardness she’d felt was gone, replaced by a sense of comfort.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” she commented, trying to keep the conversation light even as her heart raced.

Quinn chuckled, his hand still holding hers as they moved together to the music. “Thanks. I guess all those weddings and family events paid off.”

She smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the summer night air. “Well, you all are definitely making this night unforgettable.”

Quinn’s gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the crowd. “I’m glad. You deserve it.”

“That is the second time someone has said that to me tonight.”

“Oh really?” Quinn’s eyes shined with amusement, “I guess that means it’s true.”

As the song came to an end, they slowly stopped swaying, neither of them eager to let go. But the upbeat music quickly returned, and the moment passed, replaced by the lively energy of the fair.

Jack reappeared, playfully pulling Y/N away from Quinn with a grin. “Alright, enough of the slow stuff. Let’s see if you can keep up with me!”

She laughed, letting him drag her back into the group where they all started dancing together, the worries of the earlier part of the night completely forgotten. They spent the next hour losing themselves in the music, joking around, and simply enjoying each other’s company.

By the time the band announced their final song, Y/N was out of breath, her cheeks flushed from both the exertion and the pure joy she felt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun, or felt this free. And as the music wound down, the crowd began to disperse, yet the six of them had stayed together, watching everyone push their way out to the entrance of the fair.

Y/n all of a sudden felt heavy and she could feel herself growing increasingly tired. Trevor was the first to notice this, immediately taking a position by her side and letting her lay against him, “Someone’s getting tired.” His voice was light and teasing as he looked down at her.

She mumbled something incoherently, digging her face into the boy’s shoulder. The five of them laughed at her before agreeing to head back to the car. Trevor and Quinn took the main job of helping her walk back to the parking lot, all of them equally as tired as the girl, their feet aching. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

When they reached the car, Luke climbed into the back seat and watched as Trevor and Quinn helped the girl into the middle row. Trevor sat in the middle, Y/n on his left and Cole on his right, as Quinn hopped into the driver’s seat with Jack in the passenger side. 

Trevor shook her slightly, trying to get her to wake enough so she could tell them where she lived or where to drop her off. Y/n blinked her eyes open slowly, looking up at him, “Hm?”

“Gotta tell us where to take you, pretty girl.”

“Wanna sleep.”

Trevor chuckled, “I know you do and you can once you tell us where you live.” 

He slid a phone into her hands and she slowly typed out her address into the search bar of the maps before handing it back to him. He thanked her and handed the phone to Jack who then plugged the phone into one of the charging cords, Siri’s voice making its way to everyone’s ears through the speakers. 

Y/n resummed her position laying against Trevor. She shivered slightly, the drastic temperature change affecting her greatly. Trevor let a smile tug at his lips as he reached into the backseat where Luke was to place it around her. She whispered a ‘thanks’ before resuming her previous action, curling into his side.

Although she was tired, her mind didn’t seem to allow her to sleep so she opened her eyes and tried to find something to focus on. Her gaze landed upon Trevor’s arm, the one littered with tattoos. She couldn’t help but be mesmerized by them and she let her eyes trace up the length of his forearm to his bicep. 

Trevor could feel her stare and finally looked back over to her before speaking softly, “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothin.”

“I can feel you looking, sweetheart.”

She blushed at the nickname although the only tell tale sign was whenever they would pass a street light that lit up her face. He chuckled at her shyness before nudging her again, “You can touch if you want princess. I don’t mind.”

Y/n looked up at him, “Really?”

He nodded, “Go ahead.”

She hesitated at first before letting her hand lay atop his arm, her fingers slowly beginning to trace the ink. She let the silence comfort her and slowly lull her to sleep to start with but then the question burned at the back of her mind, “Do they mean anything?”

“Yes and no, but mostly no. Just things I thought were cool I guess.”

She let out a soft murmur of amusement and continued the path of the shapes his arm had. Slowly she fell asleep and before she knew it they were pulling up to her apartment. Trevor had to be careful with maneuvering her but eventually he was able to pick her up and carry her up the stairs. 

As respectful as Luke could, he reached into her pocket to pull out her keys and unlocked the door. Quinn, Jack, Cole and Luke trailed behind Trevor, all of them finding their way to her bedroom. The five exchanged looks as they stood watching her, “Should we leave or note or something?”

“Probably. I don’t know how much she’s going to remember when she wakes up.”

The others nodded in agreement and slowly filled out of her bedroom but not before kissing her softly on the head and making sure the covers surrounded her entirely and that the curtains in her room were closed all the way. 

They reached the kitchen and searched for pieces of paper, each of them writing their own note with their name and phone number scribbled underneath it. It wasn’t the neatest thing they ever wrote, especially considering that it was mostly dark inside the apartment. Soon after they all left, making sure the lock was secure before walking back to the car and driving away.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

In the morning, y/n woke up groaning slightly. She couldn’t remember what had happened last night except for the fact that she had been stood up. She sat up in bed and looked down at her arms which were clad in a sweatshirt she didn’t recognize. Slowly the memories of the previous night slowly came back to her and she couldn’t help the smile that graced her face. 

She got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, now noticing that she didn’t know if she would ever see the five again. That was until she noticed the five pieces of paper laid out on her kitchen counter, all in different handwriting. 

She made her way over to the counter, sitting at one of the chairs she had there and taking her time reading each note individually. The smile was predominantly stuck to her face as she typed each number into her phone, creating contacts for each of them. 

Finally, she made a group chat with all of them before sending a text, “Hey, this is y/n. Thank you all for last night, it meant a lot to me. I hope it wasn’t just a one time thing, I would enjoy seeing you all again.”

And within minutes of her sending the text, all of them had hearted her message and sent her each a message.

꒰ NEW JERSEY DEVILS, VANCOUVER CANUCKS, MISCELLANEOUS TAGLIST ꒱

@blakesbearsblog @toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @prettyjoseph @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43 @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943 @dyslecticdutchman @this-ass-is-eikonic

NHL MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[pinkbeanii]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝓡𝓸𝔂𝓪𝓵 𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

-green flags & sweet gestures-

Summary: how the boys would give you the royal treatment and how you'd make sure they know they're loved as much as they love you.

Warnings: mentions of food, social anxiety, and showering together (soul's part)

a/n: I love the "princess treatment" hcs, so I wanted to make one for p1h. I say royal treatment bc that just feels more gender neutral for me. Also, this is probably ooc or bad characterization, but everything here is fictional so it isn't a big deal lol.

-keeho-

{giving} drives you everywhere

When he's free, this man is so so insistent about driving you around.

He loves spending time with you, and if he has the time in his busy schedule to be with you, he's gonna take advantage of it.

Even if it means having to deal with rush hour traffic, bad city drivers, or sacrificing sleep for late night rides.

Keeho just loves to be around you, and loves to do things for you. Very much an acts of service lover. He feels good just turning on some background music and listening to you ramble as he keeps his eyes on the road.

{receiving} shoulder & back massages

Please, for the love of everything good in this world, massage his shoulders!

Keeho has so much stress and tension stored in his upper body, mostly neck and shoulders.

If you randomly start massaging those areas he will actually melt, it might hurt a bit at first bc there's so much tension there, but you both can feel the muscles loosen within seconds.

The first time you did it Keeho thought he fell in love with you all over again.

theo

{giving} fixing your clothes

Whether it's tying your shoes, pulling your shirt down if it's riding up, or untangling your accessories, he's on it.

He's pretty observant, definitely notices any outfit, malfunctions or little things before you do. It's also because he is looking at you almost 24/7.

Theo is pretty quick at fixing little issues with your outfit. Half the time you wouldn't even notice till after he's pulling his hands away. He's discreet with any malfunctions and has such a gentle touch.

It gives him an excuse to touch you as well, and he loves being able to help you with the little things.

{receiving} soft flirting

Theo isn't flustered easily, putting up a pretty indifferent face and attitude, which doesn't change much when it comes to you. Ofc he's sweet and shows he loves you, but he's not the most vocal about it

However, the moment you compliment him, he's gone. It's not always obvious, but you can tell by the raised eyebrows and twitch in his lips.

It works the same with pickup lines, specifically cheesy one liners, he will sometimes let out a little giggle if you catch him off guard.

You're never too outwards and aggressive with flirting, neither of you are like that. But soft words and teasing lines are something Theo really likes coming from you.

juing

{giving} good night & good morning texts

It doesn't matter when he goes to sleep or wakes up, this man has your schedule memorized.

Jiung will text you good night and a sweet message around the time he knows you get home from your day.

And get ready for a "good morning sweetheart" text with some encouragement while you're getting ready for your day.

He's so sincere about it too, it's not a chore for him, he genuinely wants to send you little messages to remind you he loves you.

{receiving} surprises & dates

Please please please surprise him with a date! He will have the cutest and biggest smile as soon as you tell him your plan, and it's a gift to see.

It doesn't have to be super fancy or for a special occasion, just plan a little something to do while you spend some time together and he's so happy.

Maybe it's a late night movie marathon with both of your favorite snacks, or a little picnic in the park that you threw together last second. As long as he's with you he'll love it.

It reminds him that he doesn't have to take on every single responsibility, that you care about him and wanna be with him as much as he wants to be with you.

intak

{giving} gentle touches

Intak loves to show affection through touch, pda is his shit {within reason and your boundaries ofc} but he's also so sweet about it.

Loves to hold your hand and play with your fingers, or if his arm is around your waist his thumb will be rubbing little circles on you hip.

It also serves as a good reminder that he's right there next to you, that he's got you no matter what. It's grounding to have him hand gently squeeze yours periodically.

He thinks of you as something precious, he knows you're not breakable yet he still treats you with so much care.

{receiving} sharing foods

You know the saying "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach"? This is basically that, except you don't have to be the one making the food or anything like that.

If you just share a bite of what you ordered, a snack that you so happen to have, or a sip of your fancy cafe drink, he is so grateful.

Even if it's new to him, if you like it he'll try it if you're offering. And if you're the one feeding it to him he will get so giddy and giggly.

He thinks it's so romantic to share food, and also feels like it shows how well you take care of each other. He definitely shares his food too!

soul

{giving} little gifts

He is a trinket connoisseur and collector, so he definitely has a good eye for little gifts, especially if they are for you.

It isn't always silly, a large number of his gifts to you are sentimental. But the silly ones are just as sweet. But he basically always has you on his mind and it shows.

It could be as simple as "it reminded me of you!" to "I remembered that you said you still needed this version, and I thought I'd grab it!" or "This is from where we first met, maybe we should collect things from all the important dates we've had?"

Soul is almost kinda like a crow, he will find something shiny and cute and bring it back to you as a way of showing affection.

{receiving} washing his hair

Y'all have seen that video of Soul walking through the hallway with the dramatic he turns, and how frizzy and puffy his hair is? Yeah, that's what happens a lot of the time if you aren't washing his hair.

Not only does it help the look and health of his hair, he finds it so relaxing when your hands are in his hair, gently working the products into the strands.

Whether it's you showering together or him laying in the bath with you kneeling to the side, it's a sweet experience. One you both treasure.

Also, if you just wanna play with his hair, stick it straight up when it's all soapy or make it into fun shapes, he's so down. Very laid back and cool with whatever you want, just as long as your hands are in his hair.

jongseob

{giving} ordering for you

It doesn't matter if you have anxiety about ordering/talking to strangers or not, he's ordering for you. Not because he thinks you can't, if you really wanna you can, but because he wants you to be relaxed and not have to lift a finger.

It's not even a big deal at this point, y'all will walk into a restaurant and he can rattle off your order in a heartbeat. Seobie memorized stuff pretty fast, and when it comes to you it stays firmly in his head. You're important to him, ofc he remembers everything about you.

And if you are going to a new place and are having trouble deciding what to get, just look at him. Once he knows what he wants, he's looking for stuff he thinks you'd like.

It's a show of care for him, remembering the little things and making sure his lover doesn't have to do any extra work.

{receiving} sharing clothes/accessories

Doesn't matter what size you are, if your sizes are bigger or smaller than his, you're sharing. Either clothes or accessories, or both.

It's an unwritten promise to each other, what's mine is yours. You guys haven't ever really addressed it either, just asking where something is or if you're planning to wear something the other wants that day.

It's a natural thing, and it honestly feeds into the small possessive part of you. Almost like you're staking a claim, but more in a "we belong to each other" type of way

He loves it bc it reminds him of you. Jongseob gets especially happy when your scent lingers on the soft fabric of what was originally his shirt.

[ssour-apathyy]

✧˚ · . mechanic!vi x streetracer!reader headcannons

a/n; this is actually probably really bad but i've been stuck at work with nothing to do except think about Vi, so. is this even headcannons? is this a drabble? WHO KNOWS, because it's not me

𖤐 the second you pulled up to her shop ranting and raving about the blown head gasket on your E30 M3, talking like a mechanic yourself, she was rendered speechless

𖤐 she's so used to pretty girls arriving who are the clueless "can i get premium air?🥺" types that she has to pinch herself to make sure this isn't a dream

𖤐 it took you waving your hand in front of her face with a raised eyebrow for her to snap back to reality, clearing her throat with a light dusting of pink on her cheeks as she takes a closer look

𖤐 the poor girl almost passed out when you said that you were considering swapping the engine for an M20 anyway

𖤐 you guys had stood and discussed the engine swap for a full hour, poking around the engine bay to make sure that everything was compatible, before she had convinced you that you absolutely have to turbocharge it. it would be a crime not to

𖤐 since Vi gets parts at a cheaper price than retail, it would have been rude of her not to offer to get everything delivered to her shop for you. that was definitely the reason. not because she wanted to see more of you your car

𖤐 so after she closed the shop, you stayed for a bit. both of you huddled in front of the computer monitor, browsing for upgrades that would work with your setup. she even found a second hand engine not far, haggled the price down AND took you to collect it in her pickup. isn't she sweet?

𖤐 you kept coming back day after day to work on the car, and Vi found herself getting distracted by the sight of you stripping and re-building the engine. so much so, that she put a pause on accepting new customers just so she could give you a hand

𖤐 the two of you had settled into a routine, spending the majority of the day working on the car and flirting up an absolute storm with each other, getting takeout in the evening (you took turns in choosing), before bidding each other goodnight

𖤐 she actually found herself disappointed when the build was finished, and maybe she considered sabotaging something just so you would stay longer (sue her)

𖤐 she tried to refuse payment from you, but it took just one expression of 'absolutely the fuck not' before she settled on just charging the cost of the parts

𖤐 "well, speed racer, you ever blow up another engine, you know where to find me" she had said once you had everything ready to leave, and she couldn't even hide the sadness in her voice behind the thin layer of teasing

𖤐 and she swears that she actually died for a moment when you reply with "sure. or i could come back at, say, 7 tomorrow and we can go get actual dinner somewhere nice? my treat"

𖤐 and if she did a little happy dance after the dust left by your wheels had settled, it's nobody's fucking business

[girlatmirror]

anyone but you | jeon jungkook

one shared bed, a tempting agreement and a wedding halfway across the world - what could possibly go wrong?

fake bf! jungkook x fake gf! reader

warnings: not rlly anything yet, mentions of sex, the next parts will most probably be explicit, heavily inspired by the movie anyone but you, i did not proofread this ( please forgive me if there’s any mistakes), this is just an introduction, the next parts will be much more interesting i promise. love uuu 😘

part two

_

The moment you met Jungkook, you did not like him. Lily was your trusted friend, but to this day, you held a grudge against her for introducing you to Jungkook.

Cocky. Annoying. Infuriating. Those were the words you would use to describe him.

He had just gotten back from a semester abroad in Australia when you first met him at a function organized by Lily. You immediately thought he was handsome, of course.

He had that glowy tan that couldn’t possibly have come from Chicago.

Your fiancé, Tariq, wasn’t free to attend the event with you, so Jungkook assumed you were single and hit you with the single most embarrassing pickup line you had ever heard.

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

You practically shoved your ring finger in his face and told him something like, “And even if I weren’t engaged, do not think for a second that this line would’ve worked on me.”

You had to admit, this mutual dislike—or ‘beef,’ as Lily would call it—was more one-sided than anything; Jungkook didn’t dislike you; he simply enjoyed teasing you.

The more you hung around each other, the more you never knew if he was simply trying to get a reaction out of you or if he was genuinely flirting.

It was always a push and pull with him.

You didn’t give it too much thought, though; you were with Tariq during those times, and you couldn’t have cared less about Jungkook’s opinion of you.

But ever since you called off your engagement, you had been… different. Your whole life had been structured, planned out, leading toward a future that, for the longest time, you thought you wanted: a house, a stable marriage, the predictability of it all. But you realized there were other ways to lead much more fulfilling lives. So you broke it off.

And now you tried being freer, more open to new things, and more inclined to say yes to things you wouldn’t have before.

That’s why, when you locked eyes with Jungkook that night at the club, you didn’t feel like looking away.

So, you hooked up. One minute you were still in the club, playing your usual game of push and pull, and the next, he was playfully tugging at the hem of your dress while trying not to get into a car accident.

Then, you found yourself pressed against the wall of his bathroom, his hands gripping your soft waist with a sense of urgency while he kissed you hard.

“This is a bad idea,” you whispered against his mouth.

“Probably,” he murmured before kissing you again.

He was good, and you hated it, but you hated even more that you shared moments of intimacy beyond sex that night; after the sex, he made you a late-night snack, and there was something about him that made you feel like you could tell him anything and everything.

So, you did. And you felt a connection, you weren’t going to lie, but it scared you.

The next morning, you remembered waking up before him and just fleeing.

No goodbye. No explanation.

But since he had not texted or called you afterward, you assumed he did not care.

It was just a one time thing.

---

Your good friend, Lily, and her long-term fiancée, Sophia, were finally getting married.

Not in good old Chicago or some other easily accessible city, but in Australia.

Australia was never on your travel list. Not because you weren’t convinced it was a beautiful place, but because its beauty couldn’t distract you from the heat, the bugs, and the disgusting, undiscovered creatures they have down there. Not to mention how far away it was.

You understood the sentiment behind their choice; Sophia grew up in Sydney, and her parents owned a beach house there.

But it wasn’t just that.

You could already guess who was invited, given your close friendship with Lily, and while you were okay with most of them, there were a few candidates you would rather not see.

Like Jungkook, for example.

And though you hoped they would leave the topic alone for those two weeks, Lily’s parents, who had known you for a very long time, were entirely too invested in your decision to break it off with Tariq, and that worried you.

But you were just going to accept it and see what awaited you.

---

Tariq was your first everything. Somehow, every memory you had of your childhood included him. It was as if you could not escape him, yet you also did not want to.

He was always going to be a part of who you fundamentally were. He was the man who made you believe that you deserved to be loved fiercely. He was the man who introduced you to new things and pushed you to be your best.

He was the only thing you ever knew.

From when you were both just six years old, your parents would tell you that you were going to get married. Tariq was your neighbor, one of the only ones your age, so naturally, you gravitated toward him; playing outside and sharing secrets in his little treehouse.

You did love him, and your dream since childhood was to marry him, but you never accounted for dreams changing. Nobody ever told you that dreams could suddenly shift. That feeling of change scared and stressed you deeply.

You did not know what to do; the things that you used to love doing with him became exhausting, and the things that used to excite you didn’t anymore. Your entire outlook on life and your relationship completely changed. Your relationship was healthy; he treated you well, and during the time leading up to your decision to end the engagement, you tried to tell yourself you needed nothing more than that—that you were ungrateful for wanting something different.

You were supposed to be married within a couple of months after finishing college, but one day, you interrupted Tariq’s rant about your wedding venue with a sudden, “I don’t want to marry you.”

From then on, it was pure awkwardness and constant justifications; after the breakup, you avoided him and his family as much as you could, but somehow, that wasn’t the hardest part.

It was your own parents who really did it for you, constantly bringing Tariq up and faulting you for not staying with him, barely trying to understand your feelings and reasoning.

It affected you more than they knew.

So perhaps a trip to Australia, far away from home, would do you good.

---

The house was gorgeous.

A sprawling estate with a massive backyard, a view overlooking the ocean, and more rooms than you could count. You had to admit, Sophia’s parents had taste.

“Yn!! Heyyy,” Lily came running up to you, immediately pulling you into her arms as soon as she saw you. “How are you? How was the flight? You must be starving.”

You put your luggage down. “I’m good, the flight was okay, but I really need a shower.”

Lily immediately nodded in understanding but pointed to the other room.

“Just come greet the others, and then I’ll take you to your room,” she said, taking your hand and practically dragging you to the rest of the guests who had already arrived.

You recognized most of the people in the room.

Lily’s parents, her sister, Sophia, and another older couple whom you assumed were Sophia’s parents. You greeted them all charmingly, even though you were dying for that shower.

Lily had mentioned that the house was reserved for the most important guests and the rest of the guests were staying at nearby hotels.

But there was a girl standing there whom you did not recognize. She was beautiful.

“Hey,” you offered her your hand and smiled, which she immediately shook. “I’m Yn.”

The girl smiled sweetly and said, “I’m Chaerin.”

---

When Lily finally showed you to your room, you took it all in first; it was gorgeous, huge, and it had an in-room bathroom. You truly did not need anything more than that.

You immediately hopped into the shower and scrubbed off the 20-hour flight.

Clad only in your underwear, you exited the adjoining bathroom and saw a relaxed Jungkook lying on the huge bed, flipping through channels.

What the heck was he doing there, in your assigned room?!

You knew he was going to be attending the wedding and staying at the house, but not like this.

“What are you doing here?” you asked in a shocked tone, immediately covering yourself with your hands.

Jungkook simply smirked at you, his eyes not leaving your curves. “I guess we’re sharing a room… and you can drop the hands; it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

You were just about to respond to his smug comment when you realized what he said before.

“What??” you exclaimed. “What do you mean we’re sharing a room? There’s literally only one bed in here.”

You put on an oversized white shirt and put your hair in a quick ponytail before putting your hands on your hips and looking at Jungkook accusingly.

“Relax,” was his reaction. “It’s really not that big a deal. I don’t have a problem with it; we slept in a bed together before.”

Irritation started rising in your body; you hated his nonchalant attitude. In fact, you hated him. It was annoying how he suddenly showed up out of the blue, how he was able to handle every embarrassing situation by not being embarrassed.

The fact that he didn’t contact you after your night together crept its way back into your mind, leaving a bitter taste.

Yes, you had left before he even woke up, but that was just a fuckboy move, and everybody knew that it was the guy who had to text the girl first.

You didn’t make the rules.

He was just not your type of person. You often felt like you were polar opposites, and that was the reason you disliked him. You envied that carelessness.

You hated that his presence took you back to the night you spent together when his skilled hands were all over your body, refusing to let go.

“It’s amazing and great that you don’t have a problem, but I definitely do,” you countered, huffing slightly. “I’m going to talk to Lily about this.”

As soon as you said those words, you exited the room, Jungkook surprisingly following behind you.

You found Lily in the kitchen, making coffee while happily humming.

“Lily… we need to talk to you,” you approached her. “I think there’s some sort of mistake because he thinks we have to share a room, but I’m sure you just gave him these keys accidentally.”

Lily’s stance suddenly became awkward, and her face told you everything you needed to know.

“I’m sorry, Yn,” she started after taking a sip of her coffee. “There’s not enough room for everybody, and I thought since you two hooked up before, you wouldn’t have a problem sharing a room.”

Her logic irritated you greatly, but what truly aggravated you was the fact that she didn’t care to ask you beforehand.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “That’s not how it works, Lily. Just because we hooked up once doesn’t mean we’re suddenly comfortable sharing a bed for two whole weeks.”

Lily gave you an apologetic look, but you could tell she wasn’t going to budge. “I know, I know,” she said, setting her mug down on the counter. “But we had to make some compromises. My parents insisted on inviting a few last-minute guests, and there’s just… no other option.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Jungkook beat you to it. “Wait, last-minute guests?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lily hesitated. “Yeah, um…” She glanced between you two, as if she was debating whether to say it.

You narrowed your eyes. “Lily.”

She sighed. “Tariq’s coming.”

Your stomach dropped.

You weren’t sure if it was because of the jet lag or the sheer absurdity of the situation, but for a second, you thought you misheard her. “I’m sorry—what?”

Lily winced. “My parents invited him.”

You blinked, your mind going blank. “Your parents… invited Tariq?”

“As a last-minute guest,” she clarified weakly.

Your ex-fiancé. The man you had nearly married. The man you hadn’t spoken to in months. The man you were definitely not prepared to see here, on the other side of the world, while you were rooming with Jungkook of all people.

“What the actual fuck, Lily?”

“I know, I know,” she groaned, rubbing her temples. “Trust me, I tried to talk them out of it. But you know how they are! They’ve known Tariq forever; they still think of him as part of the family. They just… thought it’d be nice to have him here.”

“Nice?” You let out a humorless laugh. “Nice for who? Certainly not for me.”

Jungkook, who had been silent up until now, let out a low chuckle. “Damn,” he muttered. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

You shot him a glare. “Oh, shut up.”

He smirked but didn’t push it. Instead, he leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “So, when’s he getting here?”

Lily hesitated.

“Lily.”

“…Tonight.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. Of course. As if the universe wasn’t already hell-bent on ruining your peace, you had less than four hours to mentally prepare for seeing Tariq again.

“Look,” Lily said gently, “if it makes you feel better, I doubt he’ll be weird. I mean, from what I heard, he’s been doing fine.”

Your stomach twisted at that, but you forced yourself to act indifferent. You left him, so you should be glad that he was feeling fine. “Good for him.”

Lily eyed you, unconvinced, but mercifully didn’t press the issue.

Jungkook, however, was watching you with an unreadable expression. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the way he was assessing you. Like he was trying to figure out just how much this actually bothered you.

And the worst part? He probably could.

“Well,” he finally said, clapping his hands together. “Sounds like we’re in for a fun time.”

You shot him another glare, but your stomach was still a mess of nerves, your mind racing with everything that could go wrong.

Tariq was coming.

And you had no idea how you were supposed to handle it.

---

Despite your irritation, the house and the wedding atmosphere were undeniably beautiful. The warm sun, the sound of waves in the distance, and the way everyone lounged around in swimsuits made it feel like a dream vacation.

Two weeks without work and the busy streets of Chicago were simply what dreams were made of.

Which is why you were now in a tiny bikini that barely concealed anything, sprawled out on a sunbed, trying to relax and ignore the fact that Jungkook was shirtless only a few feet away.

You weren’t going to let him take up space in your mind. You had enough to deal with—your ex-fiancé would be arriving very soon, and you weren’t ready for that confrontation.

But then, Jungkook had to ruin your peace.

“So,” he began, speaking in a way that let you know he was about to say something irritating, “you talk about me?”

You cracked an eye open, frowning at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Lily,” he said, lazily dragging his gaze over your curvy body. “You told her we hooked up.”

You scoffed, your face heating up involuntarily. “I do not talk about you. For your information, it is very normal to tell your girlfriends about these types of things. You wouldn’t get it, XY chromosome.”

His smirk deepened as he let out a loud laugh. “Still. Just admit you talk about me a lot.”

You huffed sassily. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re fun to tease,” he replied easily, tilting his head back to enjoy the sun.

You tried to ignore him.

Tried to focus on the warmth against your skin and not on the fact that he looked fine as hell shirtless.

---

To Jungkook, Chaerin was the sun.

She introduced him to feelings he never knew, made him look at the world through rose-colored glasses. She was his motivation and his dream girl.

Chaerin was always the life of the party; she knew exactly what to do to cheer him up and make him forget all his troubles. She was so sweet, so pretty, so perfect—something he always wanted to protect, someone he could never get tired of, even if he tried, which he never would.

If comparing her to another girl came in question, Jungkook would laugh. There was truly no girl that could compare to his Chaerin.

They met through Lily when he was studying abroad in Australia. Chaerin was Lily’s roommate at the time, but she moved back to Chicago with her now fiancée, Sophia, which led to Jungkook taking her place as Chaerin’s roommate.

After that, they became closer and closer.

Chaerin immediately knew about Jungkook’s infatuation with her. She loved that he had a soft spot for her. She loved that his eyes lit up when he would see her. She loved the way he treated her as if she were the only person in the entire world. She loved the fact that he loved her.

Jungkook loved so very deeply. He put all his energy and effort into making sure she felt safe and loved. He was never caught lacking.

They became a couple, but that was short-lived. At one point, Chaerin went back to Korea for a while, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts in Australia for the last few months of his semester abroad.

He loved Chaerin when she was in his arms, and he loved her when she was gone. He loved her when she was distant, when she was unsure, and when she gave him nothing to work with. Nothing Chaerin could do would change the way Jungkook viewed her.

She was an angel.

She never called back after. He would see her posts on social media; she was happy, glowing, and living her best life. He was happy for her, but it hurt him to be so trivial in her life that she so easily forgot him.

A long line of unopened text messages was Jungkook’s last straw; he would not text or call her again.

Over time, his feelings for her weakened, and his attempts to forget how she made him feel were semi-successful.

But somehow, seeing her in front of him again, any leftover anger dissolved into thin air; he was just happy to see his Chaerin again.

“Hi,” the simple word left his lips, but his eyes spoke a thousand words more.

Chaerin softly smiled at him before unexpectedly throwing her small body into his. He immediately wrapped his strong arms around her and inhaled her peony scent.

“Hey,” she whispered against him. “I missed you, Jungkook.”

Those words meant more than the world to him.

As they broke off the hug, his hands were still on her shoulders.

“I missed you too,” he admitted sheepishly. “So… what have you been up to?”

“I’ve been good…” Chaerin spoke, her usual sweetness evident. “I got bored of Seoul, so I thought I’d come back to Sydney for a while.”

Jungkook was not surprised by that; he knew Chaerin was an indecisive person.

“Well… it’s really good to see you again,” he stated before removing his hands from her shoulders.

Chaerin simply smiled, but that was enough to make Jungkook melt.

---

You were all ready for dinner; you had put on an elegant blue dress that beautifully pronounced your body and stepped out of the room with newfound confidence.

Lily and her dad were setting the table while her mom watched over them, making sure everything was perfect for Tariq.

“Yn, you must feel weird attending a wedding after everything,” Lily’s mom spoke, not particularly taunting, just very audaciously.

Lily’s parents had always felt like you were their own daughter, which came with immense love and warmth that you always appreciated, but it unfortunately also included their entitlement to your privacy. You loved them regardless, but it did annoy you.

The tension was thick; Tariq could enter at any moment, Lily’s parents couldn’t stop mentioning how “Tariq is the perfect guy for any girl,” and you sat silently, not allowing yourself to say something that you might regret later.

“Yn was actually the one to break it off, so… I don’t see how she’d feel weird,” Jungkook suddenly defended you, irritation evident in his voice.

You froze at his words. They didn’t shock you, per se; it was simply a little unexpected. The rest of the people in the room exchanged looks of something unexplainable.

Chaerin looked between you and Jungkook with questioning eyes before reverting her gaze back to what she was doing.

Lily’s mom wore a puzzled expression on her face, confused as to why Jungkook felt the need to defend you so harshly. “It’s not about who broke up with whom; it’s about the principle. I know yn has always dreamt of being a bride.”

You knew she didn’t mean any harm, but your cheeks warmed in embarrassment at her statement. Jungkook looked at you from the side with slightly furrowed brows, while Chaerin awkwardly coughed.

“People change,” you pointed out, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. “And I’m truly okay; I promise. I do not regret my decision, but I kind of don’t want this topic to come up again, especially when Tariq gets here.”

Before Lily’s mom could respond, the doorbell rang, and Sophia quickly got up to open it.

“Perfect timing,” Sophia mumbled as she brushed her hands on her linen pants and walked toward the front door.

You sat up straighter in your chair, pushing a loose strand behind your ear again just to do something. Your stomach tightened as you heard the familiar, polite tone of Sophia greeting him: “Tariq! So good to see you.”

Then the front door closed, footsteps echoed down the hall, and suddenly, there he was.

Tariq stepped into the dining area with the same composed, polished energy he always carried. Tall, clean-cut, his curls a little longer than you remembered, with that annoyingly perfect posture. He smiled when his eyes landed on you; somehow, that made you feel worse.

“Yn,” he said, warm and casual, like no time had passed, exactly like he used to say it. “You look beautiful.”

You stood up halfway, lips curving into a polite smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Hey. You look good too.”

Your eyes darted toward Lily, who was nervously fiddling with the edge of a placemat, and then to her parents, who were beaming as if their own son had returned.

Jungkook muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch, but you felt the heat of his eyes grazing over your chest again. You didn’t even need to look. You could feel it: slow, deliberate, amused.

You subtly turned toward him. “Eyes up,” you murmured.

He just smirked, leaned in slightly, and whispered, “Can’t help it when you wear that.”

You rolled your eyes and sat back down, but your face betrayed you with a small smile. You hated that he always managed to get a reaction out of you; you hated it even more that part of you didn’t hate the attention.

Tariq took the seat across the table from you, and for a moment, the room fell into a stiff, formal kind of silence. Lily’s dad tried to break it by pouring wine; Sophia made herself busy adjusting place cards that didn’t need adjusting. Chaerin kept sneaking glances at Jungkook, her expression unreadable.

“So,” Lily’s mom said, trying to brighten the mood. “Tariq, how was the flight?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “Everything went smoothly. This house is beautiful, by the way.”

“Oh, stop,” she blushed, clearly delighted. “We’re just glad you could make it, you’ll be sleeping in the room facing ours. And yn—” she turned back to you, and your stomach braced again, “You and Jungkook are sharing a room, yes?”

You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. Apparently, there weren’t enough rooms.”

Tariq raised his brows at that but didn’t comment. You knew he was itching to say something.

Chaerin, though, lifted her gaze. “Wait, you two are… sharing a room?”

There it was. That slight tilt of her head, the flicker of something you couldn’t place in her tone.

Jungkook leaned forward lazily, resting his elbows on the table, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “Yeah. One bed. Cozy setup.”

You shot him a glare beneath your lashes, but he looked entirely unbothered—smug, even.

“That’s.. interesting,” Chaerin said, her voice tight but controlled.

“It wasn’t our idea,” you replied quickly. “It’s just logistics.”

“Really efficient logistics,” Jungkook added, taking a sip of his wine.

Sophia raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. She was the only one at the table who seemed to genuinely enjoy the mess, as she wasn’t involved in it.

You rubbed your temple and murmured, “You are not making this easier.”

“Didn’t realize I was supposed to.”

The next ten minutes dragged; small talk, wine refills. Lily’s mom kept trying to get you and Tariq closer together. It made you think that maybe you should have stayed back home.

Chaerin smiled too tightly at things Jungkook said. Tariq was polite, maybe too polite, and you couldn’t tell if it was his usual charm or calculated calm.

You were certain there must at least be a little bit of anger toward you brewing inside him.

And Jungkook? He kept leaning toward you, knees brushing under the table, glancing over whenever you spoke. It was as if he wanted to send a signal.

You just couldn’t identify what exactly.

---

Later that night, when things had calmed down and most of the house was either asleep or winding down in their rooms, you stepped out onto the back patio to get some air.

The noise and forced small talk from dinner had given you a slight headache, and you needed to breathe somewhere quiet.

You heard the sliding glass door open behind you, followed by footsteps.

Jungkook.

He walked up beside you, holding two glasses of water. He offered you one. You took it.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low.

You sipped your water and gave him a side glance. “Peachy.”

He smirked a little. “Dinner was awkward.”

“Yeah…”

A brief silence stretched between you two. It wasn’t awkward.

And then you just asked, casually yet obviously curious: “So… you and Chaerin?”

Jungkook went still beside you—not in a dramatic way, just quiet. Then he let out a short breath. “Yeah.”

You nodded slowly, processing it.

It made sense; they could look good together.

“We met when I was here for that semester abroad. Lily introduced us,” he added, voice careful, almost like he was making sure not to dwell too much or share too much information.

Not because he didn’t want you to know, but because he didn’t want to look pathetic in front of you.

You didn’t say anything, just took another sip.

“She broke up with me before I left for Korea. Said she didn’t want to do long distance, but she came back here once I went back to Chicago.”

His tone wasn’t bitter by any means, but it wasn’t quite neutral either.

You turned toward him slightly. “Are you still into her?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked out at the dark water, jaw tense. Then, “It’s not that simple.”

Which, to you, meant yes.

You nodded again. “Hm.”

Something about that revelation planted a seed.

Because now it made sense why he stood up for you and flirted with you right in front of her. Why he didn’t seem to care about you two sharing a room—about the proximity. Why he kept looking at you like you were some sort of useful distraction. It was all a ploy to make her jealous.

Or at least you thought so.

And you weren’t offended; you were cooking up a brilliantly ridiculous idea in your head.

He wanted to get her back—or at the very least, get to her.

You needed Tariq and his fan club to back off.

You looked over at Jungkook again. “Thanks for sticking up for me at dinner.”

He tilted his head, squinting slightly. “Didn’t like how she was talking to you.”

You let the silence hang for a moment, then turned to walk back inside.

This could actually work.

You didn’t say anything yet, but the idea was there, ready to be implemented.

---

You couldn’t sleep. To be fair, you weren’t trying to; you were lying on your side, trying to gather the courage to tell Jungkook about your idea.

He wasn’t sleeping either; his breathing wasn’t even, and he wasn’t snoring, and you knew for a fact he snored when he slept.

The only light that was on was the moonlight shining through the window.

“Jungkook,” you simply said, which warranted a “hm?” from him. “Are you awake?”

He turned to you, now facing you. You could tell he was a little sleepy. “Yeah… everything all right?”

You nodded, your lips slightly pouty. Jungkook’s eyes were studying your face, like they often did, but this time you felt a little smaller than usual; it was more intense for some reason.

Your legs were touching a little, his hands very subtly brushing against your waist before he removed them.

Jungkook suddenly sat up straight, prompting you to do so as well. He looked over at you.

“What are you thinking about?” he broke the silence, his head resting against the headboard and glancing down at you.

You sighed, mimicking his movement.

“Nothing,” you replied softly, your eyes now focused on your hands that were resting in your lap. “…Actually, there is something.”

Jungkook nodded, encouraging you to continue with a look in his eyes.

“So…” you hesitantly continued. “I was thinking… Tariq is here, and… Lily’s parents are just… ugh, and Chaerin… and I-”

He chuckled lightly at your confusing sentence. “Are you going somewhere with this?”

You sent him a pointed look. “Yes, ugh, just let me finish.”

Jungkook held his hands up in surrender, that lazy smile tugging at his lips.

You took a breath before spitting it out, “I think we should fake date.”

There was a semi-long beat of silence.

He blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Rolling your eyes, you said, “You heard me.”

He stared at you for another couple of seconds, his facial expression a mixture of confusion and amusement. “Did I fall asleep and miss the part where we turned thirteen again?”

You groaned, shoving his shoulder. “Please don’t be annoying.”

“I’m not! I’m just surprised,” he said, laughing softly now. “You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “You just… annoy me sometimes.”

His grin widened. “Right. And now you want to date me.”

“Fake date you. Besides, I could tolerate you. I’m a great actress.”

Jungkook tilted his head, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “Why?”

You glanced down at your lap again, picking at your fingers. “Because Lily’s parents won’t stop talking about Tariq, and Tariq is here now, and Chaerin is here, and everyone is either watching me or watching you. I just thought maybe we could make it easier on each other.”

You paused. Then, a little quieter, you added, “You want Chaerin to regret dumping you, right?”

That caught his attention. His playful expression faltered, if only slightly. You continued.

“She’ll see you moving on. With someone else. Someone you know from back home,” you added, flicking your eyes toward him meaningfully. “Believe me, it’ll drive her crazy.”

Little by little, he slowly looked like he was considering the offer.

“And,” you added, “you’ll be allowed to kiss me and touch me. Whenever you want. Wherever you want.”

He didn’t say anything for a long second.

Then he blew out a soft breath and shook his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

You smiled sweetly and unbothered, batting your eyelashes at him. “Is that a yes?”

Jungkook’s eyes dropped to your lips. Then lower. The shirt you were wearing had shifted slightly when you leaned forward, exposing a bit more of your chest. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than it probably should have. Then he looked back at your face.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “Okay. I’m in.”

You both sat in silence for a moment.

“We need rules,” you said firmly, shifting into a more business-like tone.

He groaned dramatically. “Oof… alright.”

“Rules are what will make this believable, you idiot.”

He smirked. “Fine. Hit me.”

You raised a finger. “Number one: no unnecessary touching.”

Jungkook gave you a look. “Define unnecessary.”

“You know what I mean.”

“See, I feel like what you define as unnecessary, I define as method acting,” he said with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Gotta stay in character.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You just want an excuse to get handsy.”

“Not true. I’d get handsy regardless.”

You huffed. “Fine, but no touching when we’re alone.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because that’s where people catch feelings,” you deadpanned. “and it defeats the purpose of the act.”

He raised both hands again. “Alright, alright.”

“That’s rule number two,” you said. “No catching real feelings.”

“That won’t be a problem for me,” he confidently spoke. “For you, on the other hand…”

You hit him on the shoulder, which immediately shut him up, but not without a chuckle.

You continued, “We don’t tell anyone it’s fake. Not even Lily.”

Jungkook simply nodded. “Okay, my turn.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You have rules?”

“Just one,” he said, shifting a little closer, voice lower. “You don’t get to flinch when I touch you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You act like my hand is made of fire every time I go near you. Doesn’t exactly sell the whole ‘crazy about each other’ thing.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Fine. But don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m never weird,” he said with a wink.

You looked at him pointedly.

“Okay, rarely weird.”

There was another moment of silence, your knees brushing as you sat facing each other, before you both lay back down.

“Goodnight, baby.”

You didn’t say anything to that, at least not right away.

“Don’t call me that,” you finally muttered, turning onto your side to face the other way.

“Get used to it,” Jungkook said, his voice already muffled by the pillow. “We’re in love now, remember?”

You could hear the smile in his voice.

And then, silence again. A comfortable one, strangely.

You fell asleep smiling.

---

hey babes, college is beating my ass rn sigh 🙃 i have like legit no idea what to do with my already existing imagines (if you have ideas or suggestions for any of them, send them my way), so here’s a new one (a thousand years of absence) 😛 hope you enjoy this 😇💗