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#really she took the decision out of my hands. for what to do about that.
dragoncopper · 2 days
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The Apparition - Continued.
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A/N: Please read The Apparition first, if you haven’t already, or this won’t really make sense. 
Pairing: Noah Sebastian x female Reader
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 5475
Warnings: Major character death, crying, sadness, suicide, smut, fluff
Link to The Apparition
Read the whole thing on A03 here.
 You
The diagnosis was unexpected. 
You sat in the doctor’s office while she was telling you about it, and you felt shaky and like your breath was not reaching your lungs and that you were kind of floating near your body, but not inhabiting it.  You heard what she was saying, and yet it was not sinking in.
You felt nervous and afraid.  You did not know how you were supposed to feel.  How you were supposed to process the information?  How were you going to explain it to him?
Driving back home you took it slow, no music.  You needed the silence to be able to not feel overwhelmed and overstimulated.  You dreaded seeing his face now.  His reaction scared you more than any of the realities of the situation ever could.  You wanted to protect him from this more than you wanted to save yourself. 
You were sitting on the couch staring off into the distance for a while, you don’t really know how long, before you felt him appear.  He smiled at you and came closer and soon he realised that you were not yourself and he sat down next to you.  You felt the familiar dip next to you. 
‘What happened?’ he asked his voice immediately worried.
You were quiet trying to decide which words to use.  He placed his large hand on your lower back in a gesture of comfort and you felt the heat of it through your shirt. 
‘I am… I have cancer,’ you say, your voice flat, but you needed it all out as quickly as possible.  ‘It already started spreading.  I…,’
‘You just had some neck pain,’ he whispers after being quiet for very long. 
‘Yeah,’ you nod.  ‘It’s in my spine.’
‘How,’ he started a sentence he did not know how to finish.  ‘It doesn’t….’
‘I’m sorry,’ you say to him. 
‘What?  Why are you sorry?’  he asked with the deepest frown on his face.
‘I know this is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me,’ you say.  Looking in his eyes the emotion hits you finally. 
He shakes his head and leans in to you and holds you.  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ he whispers.  ‘What do we do?  How do we fix this?’
‘There’s not much to be done.  It has already spread all over,’ you reply into his shoulder.
‘But surely, they gave you some advice?  Some options?’
‘I can try chemotherapy.  It can slow the spread.  Maybe give me more time, but by the sounds of things there is no fixing this anymore,’ you explain.
‘But you didn’t have symptoms,’ he is trying to make sense.  ‘How, I don’t understand.’
‘I don’t either, Noah.  I am so sorry.’
‘Stop apologizing,’ he says.  He holds you quietly.  After a while you feel his breathing start to pick up and you feel it begin to shake, and hitch.  You hold him back tighter and for the first time since you have gotten the news, you feel the tears prick at your own eyes. 
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ you say your voice small.
‘Baby,’ his voice cracking.  ‘I don’t want you to hurt.’
 Noah
It took me some time to convince her to do the chemotherapy.  She didn’t want to, arguing that it was pointless.  I argued that it gave her some more time.  Gave her more opportunities to do things and live.  I am sure that she is doing it purely for me.  But I feel we have to try. 
So, we are in the car where Nick is driving her to the hospital.
We moved a few years ago.  She made the amazing and selfless decision to move closer to Nick for my sake.  That way I could have my two people near me.  The move felt like a new beginning for us, we picked a new flat together and moved in and I had an input, and for a while we could both imagine that we were just a normal couple moving in together.
While our lives have so many strange things about it, we were so normal and everyday that I often forgot the fact that I was dead.  She loved me so fully and completely despite the fact that I couldn’t be real for her.  We were happy and delusional and had started to live in our own little world where everything was what we wanted.  This news cracked open that illusion.  Reality caught up with us.
‘You say you have snacks and something to drink?’ Nick asked ad he pulled into the parking area of the hospital.
‘Yes, Noah packed me a whole little goody bag,’ she answered him.
‘I will be here to pick you up,’ he says with small, reassuring smile.  ‘You sure you don’t want me to come?’
‘Noah is with me,’ she says.  That’s all the explanation she needed to give. 
‘I got it,’ I say to Nick.  ‘Thank you, brother.’
‘Good luck,’ Nick said somberly.
She grips my hand to the point of pain as we walk inside.  They take her to a chair with so much shit set up around it.  I stand back and watch as they connect her to all the medical equipment.  Then they slide the thick needle into her arm where the chemicals that is supposed to help her live longer will enter her body.  She doesn’t flinch.  She watches as it slides into her skin and they place a bandage over to keep it in place.  The people at the hospital were being so nice and sweet and told her to not hesitate to call them if she needed anything.  But my sweet girl seemed numb, she nodded along but her eyes were empty.  That upset me so deeply. 
When we are alone, I approach and cup her cheek.  ‘You okay?’ I whisper.
She nods.  ‘I think so,’ she gives me a small smile.  It’s barely there. 
We have to be discreet.  She cannot have a full-blown conversation with a ghost in the hospital.  So, she has a book to keep her entertained.  I sit down in front of her on the floor, she hooks one leg over my shoulder and I roll up her pant leg, and I start massaging her calf and ankles and feet.  She touches my hair every now and then, hugs me with her leg by squeezing me closer to her.  Later we swop her legs. She falls asleep at some point. 
Six hours later, Nick is waiting, smoking a cigarette by his car.  He seemed anxious.  Relief flooded his face when he sees us.  She seemed okay at this time, but I know we are in for a rough night. 
‘How was it?’  Nick asked.
‘It was great,’ she answered sarcastically. 
‘Sorry, that was a stupid question,’ he scrunches his face. 
‘No, I’m sorry.   It was okay.  It’s just really long, that was the most annoying bit,’ she slips into the car and leans back into the seat. 
Nick squeezed my shoulder.  ‘And you?’
I nod in determination.  ‘She took it like a champ.’
‘How did you take it?’  he asked.
‘It broke my heart,’ I admit quietly.
 You
‘Hey, Noah,’ you call to him.
‘Baby?’ he answers.
‘I need your help please,’ you approach him and he looks at you warily.  You take out the clippers from behind your back.  ‘It’s time.’
You can see the moment he realizes and you see the pain in his eyes.   He gets up without a word and walks closer to you and takes the clippers from your hand and then kisses you solidly on the lips.  ‘It’s not that bad yet,’ he says softly.
‘No, but a few clumps came loose in the shower and I just cannot handle it.  I need it to be over with,’ you explain.
‘Okay,’ he nods and takes your hand and he starts for the bathroom. 
‘No, can you do it in the kitchen?  I don’t want to see it in the mirror,’ you say and you feel shy about admitting that.
‘Whatever you want,’ he smiles.  When you’re in the kitchen he drags a chair closer.  You sit down and take a deep breath.  ‘You have a hair tie?’ 
‘Yeah,’ you dig the one you had out of your pocket.  ‘Why?’
‘So can keep the hair I cut together,’ he says and he gently and with so much care gathers your hair together and ties it at the back of your head. 
‘I thought I would feel sadder about this,’ you admit something to him again.
‘It’s just hair,’ he says simply.  ‘You ready?’
‘Mmm,’ and you feel him cut the hair with a scissor, you feel the weight of the hair disappear.  It takes him a moment before he holds the ponytail out to you.  You take it and hold it, run your fingers through it.  He leans over your shoulder and kisses your neck affectionately. 
‘Let me know when I should continue,’ he whispers. 
‘Now, please.’  You say, beginning to feel very anxious.  ‘Let’s get it over with.’
You hear the harsh sound of the clippers being turned on and then he starts running it over your head.  Whisps of hair fall down your back, over your shoulders, past your face and you hold your breath to not get any of it in your mouth.  It also helps to keep the tears back.  He takes his time; you feel him go over some spots to make sure its even.  When he switches the clippers off, the silence is deafening.
He runs his hand over your scalp.  ‘All done,’ he says. 
‘How does it look?’ you ask, brushing across your body to get the hair off you. 
‘It looks like you,’ you hear his voice is thick.  Both of you keep quiet for a moment, both trying to keep composure for the other one.  You busy yourselves with gathering the hair on the floor together and picking it up, using a dustpan to get the finer hairs.  When it’s all clean, he grabs your hand and pulls you to him and he wraps his arms around you.  With your face buried in his chest, you feel safe and like it will all be okay.  His tall frame is concave so he can hold you with as much of his body as he can.
‘Let’s go look,’ you say after a while and you drag him to the bathroom.  Even though you knew what you were going to see it shocks you.  ‘Jesus,’ you say immediately touching where your hair used to be. 
He is behind you nervously. 
‘I don’t hate it,’ you say after a while with a smile.  ‘It looks bad ass.’
He smiles with relief.  ‘It does,’ he agrees.  He steps closer and also touches your head.  ‘You are the most beautiful human,’ he kisses your bald head a few times and then buries his face in your neck.  You feel the wetness of his kisses and tears and pretend not to notice. 
You turn in his embrace and kiss his amazing lips.  God you will miss these lips.  You make the first move and slide your hands under his shirt and lift it up until he lets go for a moment to lift his arms so you can pull the shirt off.  You press yourself against his bare chest, immediately back to kissing him again.  He leads the way to the bed without losing contact with each other.
He lays you down and starts by climbing over you.  He kisses your stomach where the sliver of skin shows and moves your shirt up with his nose and he kisses every inch he can find.  He slides the shirt off with practiced ease and then kisses your chest, between your breasts and removes the bra you had on.  He lavishes attention on you with kisses and gentle bites. 
You grab his head and bring his mouth to yours and then you change your positions, so that he is on his back.  You undo his button, move the zipper down and then shimmy his trousers and boxers down at the same time.  All the way down, you nearly fall off the bed to get his long legs free.  He laughs for a moment.  ‘Do you want me to take your socks off?’ you ask.
‘No, it’s okay.  The pants were almost too much,’ he jokes.
You huff a laugh, ‘It’s not my fault your legs are that long.  Scoot up, please.  You are too tall.’
He moves up against the pillows, and lays diagonally across the bed.  This was really the only way his frame fits on the bed.  You have even taken to sleeping next to the each other stretched diagonally across the bed.  You settle down between his legs that he spreads for you. 
He was already halfway to being hard.  Before you touch him at all, you just look for a moment.  You have been feeling the strong need to memorize some things.  You find yourself staring at all kinds of things about life thinking that you must file it away.  But mostly it happened with Noah, who was worth remembering the most.  Every single inch of his being was being recorded in your mind.  His cock was slowly standing up, his balls contracting every now and again.  He was pale just like the rest of his body, his head slightly darker.  When he flexes again, you wrap your hand around him at the base where your hand almost rests on his balls.  You hear him let out a sigh.  You lick at his frenulum and he immediately bucks his hips. 
‘Sorry,’ he breathes out.  ‘I’ll keep still.’
‘It’s okay, baby.’  You lick again, pushing your tongue against him, before taking the head into your mouth.  You stay there for a while, until he was fully hard in your hand.  You start to take more of him in your mouth.  You go slow, going slightly lower. 
‘Oh fuck,’ he breathes repeatedly.  ‘Baby.’  He is struggling to keep his hips down on the bed and it gives you a thrill to see the impact you can have on him.  Even now.
‘Keep still for me, for a moment,’ you say, looking him in the eye.  He nods.  You sink down on him as far as you can go.
‘Fffffff, I…….  B…baby.’
You smile.  You love it when he couldn’t get a word out.  You keep at him, following the thick veins with your tongue, paying a lot of attention to his glans.  You lose yourself in your task.  You memorize the weight of him on your tongue, the slightly salty taste of his skin.  How his skin is so impossibly soft.  How he reacts to your actions.  How you feel his balls clench every now and then. 
Before Noah, you never understood why women would willingly do this.  Now you felt privileged to get to taste him and see him be so vulnerable with you. 
Eventually he stops you, and sits up to kiss you.  Your jaw hurts a little, but you kiss him back.  ‘Goddammit, I love you,’ he says into your mouth.  ‘Please take off your pants.’
You lay back to wrestle your pants off, he grabs the ends by your ankles and yanks.  ‘Lay back, like you were,’ you tell him.  He complies quickly and without argument.
You straddle his hips, and he moves the pillows so he is sitting up.  With you in his lap, you were closer to a similar height.  Your faces close to each other’s.  He grabs himself and guides himself to your entrance and then you lower yourself onto him.  ‘I love you,’ you breathe out.  You take it slow and just grind into his hips.  His hands moving all over your body, even lovingly over your head.  You breathe each other’s breath, skin to skin, whispering words of love into the other’s mouth, throat, ear.
After you both come, you fall forward onto him and he holds you.  He pulls the blankets over you both and you lay there like this is where you want to be for eternity – him still inside.  ‘I will always love you,’ you try to explain to him what has been battling through your mind.  ‘Nothing is going to stop me.’
He hugs you tighter.  ‘Death has already tried, my love.  It has no power over us.’ 
Noah
Nick drops us off after the final chemo session with bags of food and drinks and I hug the man before he leaves.  ‘I cannot thank you enough,’ I say gripping onto his jacket.
‘My guy,’ he says.  ‘I wish I could have done more.  I am so sorry for you both.’
‘You have done so much for us,’ I say pulling back.
‘Let me know if you need anything else,’ he smiles sadly.
Inside, she is eating food straight from the container.  I leave her, and go the bathroom, where I unroll the old sponge mattress and put a sheet over it, bring blankets and pillows.  I make sure there’s tissue, ice water a washcloth.  Then I join her for dinner and I have nice time.  She is making jokes and smiling at me. 
We shower together, we wash each other’s backs and I can tell she is trying to enjoy feeling human before the side effects hit. 
We sleep together on the tiny mattress, I keep holding her because she is cold.  She is always cold after.   We fall asleep peacefully.  But soon, I am woken by her ripping herself from my arms and she leans over the toilet on her knees and she throws up all her dinner.  It comes in waves, I kneel behind her and rub her back, keeping my body close to hers for heat.  She starts sweating, but her skin is ice cold.  I feel all the muscles in her back contract as she keeps vomiting.  She is shivering.  Eventually she sits back and I wipe her mouth with the wash cloth.  She blows her nose and takes a few sips of water.  I open my arms and she climbs into me as close as she can get.  I lay us down and cover her with the blankets. 
‘I am not doing it again,’ she says.  I thought she had fallen asleep.  I keep quiet.  I know what she is saying.  I suspected this was coming.  ‘I’m sorry, but I just can’t.’
‘It’s okay, love.’ I rub my hand along her arm to warm her up.  ‘I understand.’
‘I would rather just enjoy what I have left,’ she whispers.
I start crying, but I try to hide it from her.  But she knows.  She grabs my hand, and weave our fingers together.  ‘I’m sorry, Noah.’
‘Don’t be,’ I sob. 
‘You know,’ she sighs.  ‘The part that scares me?  I don’t want to leave you.  I am not scared of anything else.  Everything else is nothing.  I am terrified of not being with you.’
This makes me cry even harder.  I am shaking by the time I get a reply out.  ‘I am scared of a lot of things.’
‘Like what?’
‘This.  Watching you suffer is tearing me apart.  I am scared of you being in pain.  But, yeah.  I don’t know what will happen when…’  I cannot say it. 
‘When I die,’ she finishes for me.
I nod. 
‘Well, if my soul lives on,’ she says.  ‘What if I don’t remember you?  You know how you couldn’t remember anything.’
My heart clenches in pain.  ‘I will remember for us.  I will remind you of everything you need to know.’
‘I am trying to commit things to my memory.  Trying to burn it into my being, so that I will remember.’
‘Things like what?’  I ask, curious.
‘Mostly you,’ she answers.  ‘Running my fingers through your hair, how soft your lips are.  How cold your feet are in bed.  How your hand makes mine look ridiculously small when our fingers are together like this.  Your kindness, and your laugh and how utterly loved and safe I feel in your arms.’
I ugly cry into the skin of her bald head and squeeze our fingers together and pull her body even closer to mine.  I feel her start to hiccup too.  She reaches back with her free hand and cups my head.  ‘I will find you, love.  I found you once, I can find you again.  Just look out for me, I’ll be there.’
When we calm down, we make up scenarios of what our souls will do together.  She is exhausted, but she keeps going.  We fall asleep with wishes hanging on our tongues.
You
After all the bad side effects of the chemo were gone, I started feeling normal again.  My hair was growing back out, I gained a little of the weight I had lost to all the vomiting back and my body felt like mine gain.  It was a dangerous thing.  I could so easily fool myself that everything was fine.
I decided to fill my days with as many good things as possible.  Which meant spending time with Noah.  For months we made a point to just do all the things we wanted.
We have game nights with Nick, where we would play video games or board games, order loads of food, listen to music and waste hours and hours laughing and having fun.  It was so good to see the two friends together.  To see the friendship they had after all the years.  To see a different side of Noah when the two of them were heated in their discussions or arguments about game rules.  I memorized the carefree way he plays.  The freedom is his reactions.
You go on road trips together often.  You pick famous places you’ve never been and also pick obscure spots to go see if there’s anything worth seeing.  Noah always packs bags of travel accessories, he has gotten very good at it.  He remembers all your medicine, your favorite sweets, drinks, tissues and extra jackets for when it gets cold.  He knows how you will react better than you do yourself.  He knows what you will need.  While driving, you guys play the same games you started on the trip to see Nick for the first time.  You hold hands while walking around.  You cuddle and watch countless sunsets from the hood of the car.  Each trip was immeasurably special – not because of where you went, but because of the opportunities you had to burn memories into your soul. 
You spend hours cooking together in the kitchen, picking things you have both wanted to try.  This does not always end in success.  But it does end with dances in the kitchen, or kisses in the kitchen, laughing in the kitchen.  It ends with meals enjoyed together, feeding each other, cleaning up together.  Memories.
Lazy days laying about, reading books or watching movies – as long as the two of you were tangled up in some way, it didn’t really matter.  During this time, you learned by accident that he gets full body chills when you play with his ears.  You realised he falls asleep within minutes if you run your fingers through his hair.  You craved the feeling of his weight on you – his head resting on your stomach, his legs thrown over yours, his whole body on you with his lips against your neck.  You paid attention to all the details.
You and Noah had a lot of sex.  You both always took your time with it, savoring every moment you had to bring each other comfort and pleasure.  Even when you were being rough and harsh there was so much love.  It was a way to show each other the anger, disappointment, heartbreak that you both felt.  And at the same time, it was a chance to be close and pour affection and love into the other one.  Each time had a lot of ‘I love you’s whispered.  Each time had a rush of overwhelming emotion that caused at least one of you to cry.   
When you start to realise that the medicine was not really taking away your pain anymore, you knew it was time to have a conversation with Noah.
While you were in bed, his head resting on your shoulder while your fingers ran up and down his bare back, you take a deep breath before you begin.  ‘Noah?’
‘Mmmm,’ his face squished against you. 
‘I think the time is getting near,’ you say.
‘What time?’ he mumbles.
‘My time.  I don’t think we have very long left,’ you keep your voice low, like it would soften the words.
He lifts his head and looks at you with sadness.  ‘Why?’
‘The pain is getting worse,’ you say with a grimace.  ‘But, the reason I bring it up is because I have a terrible thing to ask of you.’
He closes his eyes.  Like he knows.  Maybe he does.  He knows you better than you know yourself.  This hurts your heart so much. 
‘I don’t want to suffer through it, baby,’ your voice cracks. 
He nods against you.  ‘I don’t want you to either, love.’  You run your finger over the frown on his forehead, wanting to smooth out his worry.
‘Will you help me?’ you ask.  ‘When it’s time?’
He shakes his head with small movement.  ‘I don’t want to,’ his face crumples in pain.  ‘I want to do anything you need, but how am I supposed to do that to you?’
‘I hate that I am even asking,’ you sniff.  ‘I will do it myself.  But I need you there.  I need your face to be the last thing I see.  I want you in my brain when it dies.’
Tears stream down both your faces.  It has been happening so often lately and yet it still broke you to see his nose turn red, his lashes clumped together.  He was still so fucking beautiful.  After a while of contemplation, he says, ‘Alright.’
Noah
Today was the day. 
When it started getting bad, it went downhill very quickly.  Her pain became worse, she had no energy, no appetite.  The life was draining out of her before my very eyes and it was infuriating.  I had rage in me that it had to be like this.  She deserved so much better. 
While I understand her decision completely, it didn’t make it easy for me.  The emotions warring inside me made me nauseous all the time.  But I wanted her to get what she wants. 
I made her her favorite breakfast that she nibbled on a little.  We spoke at length about out favorite memories of our time together.  We tried to make love, but I couldn’t get hard, so I made her come with my tongue and fingers instead.  We cried a lot.  She fell asleep on my chest, even though she said she wouldn’t, she didn’t want to waste any time with me.  But she was tired.  She was tired in more than one way. 
I had to get into contact with Nick to hook me up, because we didn’t know the area like he did.  He asked friends, that asked friends and eventually we got a lethal dose of prescription pain medication that we would use tonight.  She made sure that it was more than enough. 
So that evening, I crushed up the pills in the kitchen, while she was hugging me from behind.  I placed the powder in a glass and filled another one with water.  I placed it on our bedside table.  After a hot bath and a cup of tea she dressed in her most comfortable pajamas and we sat together on the bed. 
‘What will happen to you?’ she asks, leaning into me, her head on my shoulder. 
‘I really don’t know,’ I answer back.
‘What if you are not okay?’ she sobs. 
‘Don’t worry about me,’ I counter. 
‘I only worry about you,’ she cries.  ‘I’ll stay longer if it means you will be okay.’
‘It won’t, love,’ I put my arm around her and hug her into my side. 
‘Here’s what I think you should do,’ she says through the tears.  ‘If you can’t find me, I think you should go to Nick.  You two will take care of each other.’
I laughed.  ‘I did think of that.’
‘I am so sorry,’ she starts.
‘No,’ I stop her. 
‘I am sorry for so many things,’ she carries on.
‘Please, don’t be sorry for one single thing.  Please don’t think that even one single minute with you was not the best moments of my existence.’
‘You can’t remember your whole existence,’ she counters. 
‘I know.  But I know,’ I sigh.
‘You were definitely the best part of mine.  I can never express how much I have loved you since I have known you.  I owe my soul to you.’
I try to find words, but they won’t come to me.  There isn’t really anything I can say to her that I haven’t said already.  ‘You are my soul.’
She calls Nick to tell him she is about to do it.  He is supposed to notify authorities.  They have a brief conversation.  And then I thank him and tell him I love him.
She pours the powder into her mouth, makes a face at the bitterness and then swallows it down with a few gulps of water. 
She kisses me quickly.  ‘I love you.’  Then she lays down and cuddles into me and I hold onto her for all I am worth. 
I grip her while I cry and cry and hope to whatever god is listening that she will feel no pain.  That she will be okay wherever she will go.  I pray that I will find her again.  I feel her breathing stop after a while, her grip on my shirt goes slack, but I keep holding on.  The warmth of her body lingers and it comforts me, until I start to fade away.  I can feel myself slip.  Her peaceful face is the last thing I see before I, too, am gone.
 You
The fog around you is thick to the point where you find it difficult to tell what time of day it is.  Through the wisps of white you see tall trees all around you.  The temperature around you is comfortable, even though it seems like it should be cold, it isn’t. 
You have no idea why you are here or where you are going, and the fact that you cannot remember does not upset you.  You walk slowly through the trees and the almost complete silence until you see a path.  You follow the path as it winds between the trees and the further you go, the fog seems to lift little by little.  Then a warm light becomes visible and as you get closer you see a cabin.  Warm, yellow light glows from the windows, smoke curls out of a chimney, it is calling you closer.
Then when you have almost reached it, the door opens and a tall man steps outside.  Your heart beats faster at the sight of him.  He is wearing all white, beautiful tattoos showing on his skin, his dark hair frames his face.  He smiles at you.  Like he knows you. 
He takes light steps down to you.  ‘Hi,’ he beams. 
‘Hi,’ you say, unsure of what was happening.
‘Are you lost?’ he asks you.
‘No,’ you say.  ‘I don’t really know.’
‘It’s alright,’ he says.  ‘I can help you if you need it.’
You look into those eyes that are so dark they are almost black and you know that he is safe.  He feels familiar.  ‘Do I know you?’
‘Come inside for some tea?’ he says reaching out his hand.  You take it without a thought and your fingers twine like you have done it a thousand times before.  ‘I have a lot to tell you.’
Inside is warmth and comfort and home.  You sit near the fireplace and he hands you a cup and you drink it.  It is just like you like it.  ‘Who are you?’
‘More importantly, who are you?’ he counters.
You frown, not knowing the answer.  ‘Do you know me?’
He nods.
A/N: This part was never supposed to happen, but a comment from someone on A03 put my mind to work.  I’m sorry that this part was also sad, but in my mind, there was no other way to do this.  Thank you to everyone who took actual time out of their day to read my story. 
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peppymintdreams · 19 hours
Text
What If Luca Didn’t Go to the Party
This is my first ever Zsakuva Fanfic so bear with me on this 🙏🏿
masterlist
It was a late Thursday evening. Luca was lying in his dorm room, staring at the ceiling and feeling empty. He had finished all he needed to do, and all that was left was to relax. He had been invited to a party but didn’t feel like going. What would he even do at a party? It came as a shock when someone actually invited him; it must’ve been a joke to get a reaction out of him—who knows? The night was quiet, aside from the occasional ventilation turning on and off, the faint sounds of upbeat music echoing across the campus, and moans of couples haunting the hallways. Here he was, alone in his bed.
Deciding to make a stand, he put on his nice clothes and headed for the door, determined to make his presence known at the university. But when his hand touched the door, something changed. Visions of doubt, insecurities, and the years of bullying he’d endured flooded his mind. He wanted to be strong; he wanted to try something new, but the pain was just too much to handle. What was he to do—stay home and let his insecurities and doubts win, or let himself be free? It took everything in his power to keep his hand on the doorknob and turn it fully. He was almost there, the door beginning to open, his vision starting to blur. It felt like time was running out if he didn’t make a decision. In the end… he shut the door and locked it.
“Weak,” that’s all he could hear in his head. A weak person, he thought. He lay down on the sofa, turned the TV on, and watched whatever was playing, tears streaming down his face. What was he to become if he couldn’t even muster up the courage to just be a person?
His phone lit up with a notification from his mom. She was his safe place, the person he could turn to whenever something went wrong and he didn’t know the answer. He called her and waited as the line buzzed. “Hello,” she said, her voice like a cloud—so soft and welcoming.
“Mom, I—” he stuttered, tears rolling down his face.
“Hey, honey!” she spoke with excitement; just getting a call from her son made her day, judging by the silence and occasional weeping on the other line. “What’s wrong, baby?” Anytime Luca was sad or upset, his parents were there for him, no matter what giant missile life threw at him.
“Mom, I don’t know what to do,” he began to cry, his voice cracking, He had explained to her about his invite to the party and what just happened and the meltdown he had.
“Aww, baby, it’s okay to not know the answer.” Hearing his mom understand him relaxed him, calming his breath. “Sweetheart, I understand how you’re feeling. It’s completely normal to be scared about going to a party, especially when you’re unsure of what to expect. Remember, it’s okay to feel nervous.”
His breath hitched; he began to hiccup. “Maybe you could talk to a friend who’s going and see how they feel about it?” Thinking about what she said, he realized he didn’t really have any friends in university or anywhere in London. So, what was the next best option?
“Think about what you might enjoy about the party—like meeting new people or having fun with friends. If you decide to go, just be yourself. And if you feel uncomfortable at any point, it’s okay to leave. Your feelings matter, and I’m here to support you, no matter what you choose.”
He began to calm down. Just a couple of minutes ago, it felt like the weight of the world was crashing down on him, but hearing his mother’s voice was enough to wash away everything. He wanted to change the topic to avoid the emotional roller coaster he had just thrown at her, but then he heard a door open and a heavy grunt—Luca’s dad was home.
“I have to go, Luca; your father just got back from the store. But we can talk tomorrow. Does that sound good?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” Luca replied. There was nothing more he enjoyed than unwinding with his mother; she always had the right answer.
“Mom, I do have one more thing to say.” There was something that had been bothering him lately, and he needed the answer to free his mind. “Can it wait until tomorrow, dear? Your father appears to be struggling.” Disappointed, he reluctantly agreed.
“Of course, Mom,” he said sadly. Judging by his tone, his mom could tell he wanted to talk but couldn’t stop himself from waiting. His father did have a bad back.
“Well, okay. I have to go. Mommy and Daddy love you very much, Luca. Kisses,” she said.
“I love you too, Mom.” She hung up as soon as he responded; she was in a rush. He understood his parents had their own lives, but they always made time for him.
Turning off his phone, Luca made up his mind. Grabbing his laptop that was still on the coffee table, he looked for available flights home after his graduation. There was no one he had to stay with; he didn’t have friends here, and he wasn’t in a relationship this town wouldn’t miss him. Luca let out a heavy breath and flipped through the channels, trying to relax. “I’m here,” he thought. He felt comfortable. Soon, in the next few months, he’d be home—there’s no place like home.
Not more than a couple of miles away, a lonely person stood next to a table full of drinks. They seemed dazed and confused. “Ayo ___, come and dance with me,” a friend said. Looking at them, they replied, “Meh, I don’t know.”
Their friend looked at them, concerned. “Yo ___, you alright? You seem troubled.” They were troubled; something didn’t feel right. He took their hand, wrapping his other arm around their waist, twirling them to him. Nothing else mattered but having ___ someone he longed to hold in his arms, someone he was now face to face with, just a few inches apart.
“I don’t know; I just have a weird feeling,” they said, backing up and looking around.
“Feeling? Like what?” he asked.
“Like someone was supposed to be here…”
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thelostconsultant · 27 days
Text
Puppy love
pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
summary: During his karting days, you were one of his opponents, but outside the track he was just a stupid boy who fell in love with a pretty girl. Now, after all those years, you meet again in the paddock, and he doesn't want you to leave.
note: Yes, Jos is an asshole in this (too).
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“Have you seen who jumped in to do the interviews?” Charles asked with a wicked smile when he stopped next to his rival after the race. Max hadn’t really paid attention to these details until now, but now that he was informed there was something he should probably know, he looked around to see where the reporter was. “I haven’t talked to her since your dad ruined her career. But she seems truly happy now.”
That’s when his eyes fell on you, the girl who had been haunting him in his dreams for long years, the one who was glowing while talking to the cameraman. He wanted to object, he wanted to say “my dad didn’t ruin her career, she just decided to quit,” but the way you had left certainly hinted at a possible connection between the two events. Because his father’s outburst took place a week before he found out you weren’t coming back to race, and you didn’t even try to contact him ever again. 
What made it real hard was the fact he knew you were left heartbroken, and it wasn’t racing that you missed. His mother called your parents to ask them about you, and they said you had been crying in your room for days, but when the option for a call from Max came up, they were quick to shut it down. They said it would be easier for you to move on if he didn’t show up in your life again, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for everything that happened. 
If he hadn’t fallen in love with you, if he hadn’t met you on a vacation, if his father hadn’t found out he loved someone, maybe you would still be racing. He remembered your bright smile that was present even after a tough race, and your good mood that was often highly contagious. The boys you raced against loved you dearly, mostly because you brought a different energy into their little boys’ club.
“Max, you’re next,” he was told all of a sudden. 
He wasn't ready to face you, but there was no escape. What he had to do now was force a smile on his face and act like he was talking to someone else, someone whose presence didn't affect him half as much as yours did. But the moment he stopped in front of you and noticed a strange glint in your eyes, he had to focus on breathing in and out while you asked your first question.
After the camera was turned off, he cautiously watched you to see if you were planning to approach him, or if you seemed open to the possibility of him doing that. When you looked at him with a smile and said goodbye to the cameraman, he walked over to you with his hand folded behind his back.
“It's nice to see you here,” he said with a small, cautious smile. You nodded, but Max could see behind the cheerful look on your face, he could tell you were tense. “If I'm bothering you, just say it.”
You took a deep breath, and soon your smile changed, and it was now showing a lot more sadness. “It's been a while, that's all. Talking to you in person brings back different memories,” you admitted.
“Good or bad ones?”
Following a shrug, you folded your arms over your chest and looked down at your shoes. “Compared to the ones that come back when I see you or Charles on TV? Bad,” you finally replied. 
Max gulped upon hearing this, feeling guilty despite knowing he had done nothing wrong, that whatever happened back in the day was the result of a series of decisions made by your parents. If it was up to him, he would have kept in touch with you, doing his best to see where this puppy love would lead the two of you. Maybe you would have broken up after he got into F1, maybe you would be married by now. It was a question he had no answer to.
The best he could do now was trying to make you understand this, making you see that he wanted to fix things now, even if you would be nothing more than friends. Sure, he had no idea how much you had changed over the years, but he knew there was only one way to find out. “I know it means very little after all these years, but I’m sorry,” he said to break the deafening silence.
You nodded, then to his surprise, took a step closer to him. “I know it wasn’t your fault. My parents told me what happened exactly eventually.”
He watched you closely, trying to figure out if you were interested in a proper conversation, maybe later in private. But before he could speak up, Charles walked over to the two of you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder with a big smile on his face. “It’s been so long,” he said happily, earning a shy smile and a barely visible shake of your head from you.
Max bit the inside of his cheek, annoyed by the sudden appearance of the Ferrari driver, but the main problem was a vivid memory from his childhood. While him and Charles had gone for blood on the track and didn’t have the best relationship off it either, you and the Monegasque were on very good terms, with you even visiting him and his family in his home. It didn’t bother him until his brain finally caught up with his feelings and he realized he had a crush on you, because then he felt intense jealousy every time his rival laid a finger on you, even if it was nothing more than a friendly pat on the shoulder.
You then suddenly moved to give him a hug, and seeing the way Charles wrapped his arms around you made his blood boil, even if he knew deep down that he had no right to be jealous. But it was painfully obvious that the two of you were talking to each other, keeping your voices down as much as you could in the noise around you, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was all about.
Then he finally let go of you and said goodbye, although the two of you agreed to have dinner in Italy next week to catch up. Max took a deep breath and thought about what to say, but before he could come up with anything, an official came over to drag him to the cooldown room, so all he could do was apologize and say goodbye, wishing he could see you again next week. According to Charles you were supposed to be there in Monza, which meant he would have the chance to talk to you.
To properly talk to you and possibly find out more about your life after you quit racing.
He knew in the cooldown room they were supposed to talk about the race, but all he could think about was asking Charles what you talked about, what was so secretive that no one else could hear it? So, in the end he didn’t say much, he just watched the recap of the race and discussed what he saw if it was standing out. Even while standing on the podium, his eyes scanned the crowd under them, trying to find you as if he was playing Where’s Wally?
On the way home, he spent his time browsing your social media accounts, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had never checked them. On X, you were posting about F1 news, commenting on them as a journalist, while on Instagram you focused on sharing more personal posts, like photos of your holiday, your hobbies, or yourself in the paddock. There had been so many of those, how come he hadn’t met you before?
Having a glimpse into your life felt so nice that he hadn’t realized he had scrolled back a few years. Well, not until it turned out he accidentally liked a few of your old photos. If you hadn’t seen the notifications, he wouldn’t have noticed that. But you saw them and weren’t shy to send him a DM about it.
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The next few days passed with him regularly checking his DMs to see if you wrote to him again, if you changed your mind and decided to have dinner with him, but there was nothing, so he was forced to wait for the perfect opportunity to talk to you in the paddock in Italy. How he would find you in the flurry of people was a mystery, although he had a fleeting idea that maybe their PR team could help him get a hold of you. Not like that could work, a request like this would certainly give them a stroke, assuming he was planning to give a random interview.
His heart skipped a beat when he noticed you at the press conference, talking to some of the drivers behind the cameras. Your eyes were shining brightly, your smile lit up the room around you, and Max felt like he had been taken back to his childhood when all the boys at their karting races swarmed around you to get a scrap of your attention. But those were hormone-driven teenagers, while these guys were grown men, many of them in serious relationships, so he knew it wasn’t entirely the same situation.
This time Max made sure he could stick around after the interviews, hoping to get a hold of you once you were done. He approached you after everyone left and you decided to chat with someone from the crew. He cleared his throat nervously, subconsciously expecting you to yell at him, to tell him to leave you alone. But your poker face was perfect, because you turned to him with a kind smile and acted like you were ready to have a pleasant chat with him. The crew member left you alone, so only the two of you were left there. 
“You either don’t understand the word no, or you just learned to completely ignore it because you always get what you want,” you said with a sigh, the smile long gone by now. 
He let the last part of the comment go past his ear, instead he just took a deep breath and began to massage the back of his neck. “Can’t we have a pleasant conversation? Just put everything aside, forget about our shared past, and let’s treat this as a chance for a fresh start.”
You watched him with a thoughtful hum for a while, then nodded. “All right. What would you like to talk about?” you asked with a curious look in your eyes. 
“Us.”
“There’s no such thing as us.”
“Too bad, because that’s exactly what I want,” he was quick to inform you, mentally kicking himself for being this straightforward, even if it was true. Because he wanted to see if you would be interested in the 2.0 version of your relationship, the chance to see how your young love would work out in your adult lives. “Are you seeing anyone?”
For a moment you hesitated, but then you shook your head. “No. I don’t really have the time for that,” you replied honestly. Before Max could speak up again, though, you began to talk once more. “But I’m a reporter here, dating a driver would be… unethical. I can’t play favorites,” you explained. 
Max took a quick look around, then gently placed a hand on your cheek. “We can figure that out later. Let’s focus on step one, which is going on a first date. Tonight? We can turn to room service to help us out if you don’t want to meet somewhere public,” he told you. 
“So you want me all to yourself in your hotel room?” you asked with a teasing smile. 
He was sure as hell he blushed, because the idea of what you were suggesting hadn’t occurred to him. Having you alone in his hotel room wasn’t something he consciously planned out, he only wanted to meet you somewhere away from the curious eyes. “It’s not like that,” he told you defensively. 
“I know, don’t worry. Send me the when and where,” you said as you patted his shoulder. “See you later, Max.”
Nodding, he watched as you walked away from him. He didn’t say a word–no, he couldn’t say a word. His brain was too busy replaying the way his name rolled off your tongue, that sweet, soft tone of your voice as you said goodbye. With his mind still lost in a pink haze, he returned to their motorhome to gather his things and call it a day. He couldn’t wait to meet you, that was all he could focus on. 
A few hours later he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his foot nervously tapping on the floor while he waited. You could be here any minute, and waiting was the worst part. Well, maybe the conversation wouldn’t be that much better, but he could still hope for the best. So when half an hour later there was a knock on his door, his lips curled into a wide smile and he rushed over there to let you in. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was held up in the media center,” you apologized the moment the door closed behind you. 
Max had to take a deep breath to calm himself. You being close to him again brought back feelings he thought he had long forgotten, and he wanted to give you a kiss, a soft kiss to test the waters with you. But he had to behave, he had no idea where the two of you were standing right now. “It’s okay, don’t worry. So, dinner?” he asked after a short break, giving you a smile. 
Food seemed to get you in the mood to chat, because as the two of you enjoyed the various dishes he ordered, you started to tell him about your life after everything that had happened back then. You finished high school like a normal kid, went to college to study journalism, and you managed to get jobs at various places that were related to motorsports, especially F1. That was your dream, to once work with this world, but you were quick to clarify knowing he made it here didn’t give you the idea. 
He tried to hide the cocky smirk that wanted to show up on his face, because he was sure what you said weren’t true. A voice in the back of his mind told him you wanted to see him again, that you wanted to get back what had been taken from the two of you all those years ago. After all, why wouldn’t he think that? It didn’t take much convincing to get you to meet him tonight. And if he was delusional? At least it was a nice thought. 
It was then his turn to talk, so he told you stories that you had probably never heard, about himself, about the grid, about everything, really. If you asked questions about his family, you focused on his sister and mother, but you were mostly interested in his cats and hobbies. As you told him, you couldn’t understand how he ended up being such a cat dad, but it certainly suited him. 
“Charles said he doesn’t get murderous thoughts about you several times a day lately,” you suddenly noted with a short laugh. 
Clearing his throat, Max tilted his head to the side. “You talked to him?” he asked casually. 
You nodded and took another bite of your pasta. “Yeah, we had dinner yesterday. I remember how the two of you were back then, I was wondering what the situation was now,” you said with a shrug. 
A wide grin crept on his face upon hearing this. “So you asked him about me.”
“It was just one question, don’t get too cocky,” you pointed out with a roll of your eyes. “But I’m glad you kinda get along now. It’s nice to see that.”
Max flashed a smile at you, then returned his attention to his dinner. For a while you both ate in silence, but then you got rid of the plates and he found himself wondering what to do next. So he just looked down at his hand and moved it closer to yours, letting his little finger brush against yours as if you were back in your teenage years. You let out a laugh when you noticed, and you looked at him with a kind smile. You weren’t as cold as you had been earlier today, now you seemed to have warmed up to him, ready to give him a chance to show you what he wanted. 
So, he took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss you, cautiously moving his lips against yours to make sure he didn’t scare you away. It took you a few seconds, but you eventually eased into the kiss, one of your hands even moving up to his face to keep him close. He couldn’t hold back a quiet chuckle that drew a questioning hum out of you. Max shook his head, then he dived in to kiss you again, but at the same time he let his hand wander under your shirt, even though he could have expected what happened next. 
Because you pulled away and pushed his hand away from your body. “Stop, don’t… I shouldn’t even be here, I should just go, and–”
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t do this, don’t push me away. I’m sorry. If you want to slow down, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do, okay?” he asked you, his voice desperate. For a minute or two you remained completely silent, you were just watching him with doe eyes, as if you were trying to process what just happened. “Please, just stay,” he said quietly.
You hesitantly took his hand and gulped loudly as you gathered your thoughts. “Listen, it’s complicated. I already told you, I shouldn’t date drivers, but,” you began, but fell silent without finishing the sentence. 
Max cupped your face and rested his forehead against yours. “One step at a time, all right? We’ll figure out if this could even work between us, then we’ll decide how to move on,” he said with a soft smile. When you nodded, he kissed your nose. “Good. Do you want to stay with me and cuddle a little, or would you rather go?”
“We just cuddle, right?” you asked with a thin voice. When he nodded, you let out a soft sigh. “Okay, just for a little while, then I’ll leave.”
But you didn’t leave. The next morning he woke up to you sleeping soundly with your head on his chest, snoring softly while you were lost in your dream world. Max couldn’t stop grinning, he was way too excited and happy to keep a straight face. It felt so nice, so natural, that he wondered how long you would be against it. You clearly wanted this as much as he did, but if you needed time, he was willing to give it to you.
As you lay there, he remembered that vacation all those years ago, when your parents not-so-accidentally bumped into his mom. His first date in a local cinema, watching a movie that was dubbed and neither of you could fully understand it. His first kiss in that movie theater with a girl that was special enough to catch his attention. The way you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder one night when your parents talked a little too long in a restaurant on the beach. 
And he was hell-bent on going back to that town to experience everything again as adults. All he needed was you softening enough to let him take care of you in front of the whole world.
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mrsbarnesblog · 3 months
Text
my girl
masterlist
requests are open
summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to
word count: 2k.
warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing
a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write
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You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your father’s small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect. 
The place itself looked truly magical—decorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Koos’s territory, and even with your daily’s bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.
Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his son’s best friends in order to check how everything was going. 
As soon as your eyes met Rafe’s, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were. 
You didn’t know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldn’t resist him. 
It wasn’t that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasn’t bad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 
You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you. 
Rafe’s eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it. 
He may or may not be responsible for Ward’s choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldn’t, right? At least not until he properly talked to you. 
“Damn, she’s hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.” The moment words left Topper’s mouth, Rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake. 
“Shut your fucking mouth.” Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend. 
“I would appreciate you both watching your language.” Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it. 
Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.
Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them. 
“Mr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.” Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didn’t even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you. 
You didn’t even wait for Ward’s response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didn’t even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around. 
“What do you want from me?” You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. “Don’t touch me, Rafe.”
“This is not what you think it is.” He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear. 
“Oh no? Isn’t it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?” You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation. 
“No. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. I’m serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.” 
“Stop doing it, Rafe!” You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. “Stop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you won’t have anything serious with me. I’m not rich, I’m not a kook and I’m not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?” You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. “I just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.” 
“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I don’t care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explain—”
"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because you’re too good to be around me.“ You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.
“I’m an asshole. I know it. I know that I didn’t put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.” He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didn’t want it to be that way, fuck…” Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.
“You should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?” Your voice broke at the end.
“I didn’t tell them anything!”
“Well, I don’t believe you, Rafe!” You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back to—”
You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafe’s shirt to tug on it. 
He didn’t rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. It’s been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin. 
“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled into his mouth. 
“I don’t fucking care, Y/N.” He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldn’t have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.” Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against your—something that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I don’t want it to end.”
“Me neither…” You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.
“Since everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?” 
“Take me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.”
“No, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. I’ll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.” Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.
“You’re joking, right?” You pulled away, laughing. “I don’t have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasn’t invited.” 
“That’s why I’m taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, you’ll be my plus one.” He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies. 
“I’m your girl?” 
Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. “Yeah, you are my girl.”
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aurorawritestoescape · 3 months
Text
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I KNOW BETTER THAN TO CALL YOU MINE
Pre outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader || 7k
Summary: Joel lets himself have a treat. You.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, slight age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel is 30), sex work, idiots in love, soft Joel, praise kink, size kink, f/m oral, cum eating, alcohol consumption, m!masturbation, sex toy usage, bondage, protected/unprotected piv, creampie, light pussy spanking, somno, aftercare, mention of degradation, pet names (baby, sweetheart, honey). Reader has hair, wears dresses. Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.
A/n: this is for @janaispunk ‘s 1500 kisses challenge. My prompt was ‘first kiss’ with Joel Miller. Congrats again, Jana, and thank you for the fun challenge!😘 The pic in the m/b is from this post by @liminaltourist. Hugs and kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘🫂 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 The title is from the lyrics of ‘Let’s fall in love for the night’ by FINNEAS. Hope you will enjoy this story! Love you all!💖
MASTERLIST
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Joel met you at Tommy’s birthday party and was instantly attracted to you. You were beautiful, sweet, funny, a little shy which he found charming. You told him that you worked as a waitress, meanwhile looking for a steady job after graduating college. He spent the whole night talking to you. The whole night being a couple of hours when he had a sitter for Sarah. Joel noticed a trace of sadness in your gorgeous eyes while you two were saying your goodbyes and for a second he regretted the way his life turned out. A single father at the age of thirty, working tirelessly to give his daughter the best life he could. But all the regrets vanished into thin air the moment he returned home and saw Sarah, sleeping peacefully in her bed. He planted a gentle kiss on her temple and quietly went to his empty bedroom. She was his life and he was ok with it.
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Next time when Joel went out with Tommy for a drink, he asked about you in passing. He tried to make it seem like a simple curiosity but his younger brother still gave him a knowing smirk. Joel really liked you but his life was hectic enough. Work and being a single parent took all his time and he couldn’t squeeze in a relationship. He wouldn’t be a good boyfriend, he thought, and you deserved only the best. But your image— your eyes, your smile, your body, was flashing behind his eyes again and again, reminding him that he had needs and desires.
After a few beers and tequila shots, their conversation circled back to you and Tommy blabbed out that you worked as an escort. Joel was astonished. You seemed shy and sweet. He had never been against sex work but he always imagined a different type of people in that business. He didn’t know what to make of it but he felt his cock twitch, thinking of how sexually liberated you were.
He thought about asking for your number, but Tommy would tease him to death and he decided not to.
The next time you met Joel was at another Tommy’s party. Joel agreed to come, wanting to see you again. You talked and laughed like before but the air was almost electric between you two. The glances were darker, your hand brushing his skin here and there made him want more— touch you, feel you close against his body. He could save up and do all that if you agreed. So he made a decision and offered to drive you home when the party was over.
As soon as Joel parked his car at your driveway, he cleared his throat and asked if he could see you sometime.
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Your voice was soft and a shy smile tugged at your lips.
“Ehm… fuck, I —I know what you do,” Joel admitted, turning to you slightly in the driver’s seat, “Tommy told me when he was drunk. Forgive him and me, please, ok? And— I don’t know what you call that, but— can I meet you for an appointment?”
Your face fell and you were blinking at him with a mouth agape. Joel’s heart froze- what if Tommy had been fucking with him and you didn’t sleep with people for money.
After a few longest seconds of his life, you took a deep breath and gave him a little nod. Joel asked you about the details and you explained to him what he needed to do to book a session with you and though you were talking about sex, it sounded cold and dry. You gave him a little smile before getting out of the car and he drove off with the thought that he had made a mistake.
He really didn’t plan to call you, thinking he had killed whatever spark and connection you two had, but his thoughts returned to you again and again. He was hearing your laugh everywhere and your face was behind his eyelids every time he went to sleep.
One night after a few beers he imagined you in his bed and his hand flew to his already stiffening cock. He shut his eyes and saw you next to him, naked and ready for him. Pleasuring himself, Joel imagined your hand wrapped around his length, sliding up and down, then your mouth sucking on his tip and soon he was spurting his load all over his stomach and fist. He could have you, you already agreed to it, and he deserved to feel good, to treat himself once in a while. With those thoughts on his mind he texted you and booked a session.
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Joel tried to be on time for your first meeting, but everything seemed to go wrong that day and when he arrived at a hotel, you were already waiting for him at the bar. He showered you with apologies for being late but you assured him that it was ok. He felt the flames of desire, when he took you all in. Your black dress was hugging your body perfectly and he couldn’t wait to take it off you.
You had already got a room for them so Joel followed you to the elevator. He had never been that nervous in his life. You must have noticed it, so you took his hand and gave him a warm smile.
“I’m so glad we’re doing this, Joel.”
“Never done this before,” he admitted when the elevator doors opened and you walked to the room.
“It’s ok, Joel. I’m sure we’re going to have a great time,” you said, smiling to him, and opened the door.
When Joel stepped inside, he saw a typical hotel room with one big bed. You turned to him and asked,
“Before we start, do you have any questions or suggestions about what you want us to do?”
Joel swallowed loudly.
“I want —, he scratched the back of his neck and continued, “just the usual, I guess.”
“The usual?” you repeated with a little smirk.
“Yeah, just sex.”
You pouted your lips in thought, then smiled with mischief in your gaze and slowly came up to him.
His breath hitched when your behavior changed in front of his eyes, like a little kitten turned into a panther in a matter of seconds. You looked the same but there was an allure in your every move, each glance was magnetic, as if you were calling for him to touch you, fuck you. You were irresistible. Your body was inches away from him, your perfume subtle but enticing, enveloping him, and you purred,
“I don’t think we want it to be ‘just’ sex, Joel. How about we make it special.”
Your tongue caressed your lower lip and he slowly leaned down. You swiftly swerved him and instead of tasting your lips, he nuzzled your cheek.
“I’m sorry, Joel— I don’t kiss on the lips during sessions.”
“Oh fuck, sorry.” Joel felt really bad and explained, “I got carried away... I’ve read the rules you sent me… I remember no kissing part, like in “Pretty Woman”,” Joel chuckled, rubbing his scruffy cheek in a nervous gesture.
You giggled, too, probably trying to make him feel more comfortable, “Yes, just like in “Pretty Woman.”
Without noticing it, he tried to memorize the sound of your laugh, how pretty it was. You slightly pulled away from him and tilted your head.
“How about I take the lead at first and then we’ll see how it goes?”
Joel nodded. He wanted to take your dress off, carry you to the bed and fuck you till you screamed his name. But he was afraid to do something wrong, he’d never been in that type of situation. You took his hand and gently caressed it, your fingers dancing over his hardened skin. Then he watched you bring it to your red lips and kiss his palm. You glanced up at him with your big beautiful eyes, not taking his hand away and his whole body reacted to your gentle touch. He was getting hard.
You led Joel to the bed, your fingers intertwined with his, and gently pushed on his shoulders to make him sit down. You slowly took your dress off and he tried not to start drooling like a cartoon wolf, seeing you in front of him in a black lacy set.
You stood between his spread thighs and bent over to tug at the hem of his dark tee. He helped you to take it off and when you kneeled in front of him, he almost moaned. Your beautiful face was so close, he wanted to kiss you so much but he couldn’t and he’d never do anything you didn’t want.
You unbuckled his belt and softly asked him to take his jeans off.
Soon Joel was sitting there in his boxer briefs with you on your knees between his spread thighs.
"You're so hot, Joel," you whispered, as your dark gaze slid over the expense of his broad shoulders and chest, and your nails slightly scratched his muscular thighs.
He breathed out a laugh, shaking his head. He wanted to tell you how gorgeous you look, wearing your lingerie and your high heel shoes, how much he'd been thinking about you since the day you'd met but his mouth was dry and he felt himself like a teenage boy who was trying to compliment a hot girl.
You weren't aware of his inner torment. As always calm and confident, you leaned closer to his torso and kissed a spot on his chest, right over his heart. Joel took a sharp breath and shut his eyes for a second, trying to calm down. He couldn't believe what just a gentle chest kiss from you was doing to him, but he was already painfully hard.
Your lips glided lower and you started leaving open mouth kisses, tracing a path down to the bulge in his boxers, and he opened his thighs wider to give you more space. When your face was close to his clothed cock, you rested your head on his left thigh and looked up at him.
“Fuck,” Joel cursed and growled at the sight of you so close to his already throbbing manhood. You were so pretty, so obedient but even on your knees he felt that you controlled the situation.
“Joel?”
“Yes, baby?”
You smiled hearing the pet name and asked,
“Can I take you in my mouth?”
His cock visibly twitched when he heard your soft voice and the words you uttered.
“If you want.”
You bit your lower lip and asked, rubbing your cheek on his hairy thigh.
“I do but would you like me to?”
Joel nodded eagerly, maybe too eagerly but he didn’t care. He wanted you so much.
With a content smile, you sat up straight and shifted on your knees, getting comfortable. Then you pulled at the waistband of his boxers and in a second they were on the floor and his cock was bobbing in front of your face. Your breath visibly hitched and you glanced up at him.
“You have a gorgeous cock, Joel Miller,” you whispered and he wanted to kiss you again, hearing the praise. But instead he brought his hand to your face and cupped your cheek. You purred into his touch but parted from his palm in a second when you lowered your face and kitten-licked the fat tip of his cock. Joel sighed and bucked his hips already impatient for more. You didn’t make him wait long.
Your lips soon welcomed his cock between them as you started taking him deeper, covering his length with your warm saliva as your hand was firmly wrapped around his girthy base.
Joel moaned loudly at the sensation, he didn’t care what sounds he was making, completely lost in the pleasure your soft lips and skilful tongue were giving him.
Your mouth was slowly caressing his cock as your curved up lips were sliding over his sensitive skin and your tongue danced around the fat head, now and then stroking the leaking slit. There was so much precum, he saw you swallow it again and again. Your hand was gently massaging his balls and his big palm was lying on your head, not pushing, just showing you how much he needed you at that moment. Joel was in heaven.
Soon you took all of him and your throat contracting around his length was the last straw. He was dangerously close to coming and painting your mouth creamy white. But he had other plans for you.
“Shit, baby,” he cupped your cheek and gently pulled you off his ready-to-explode cock, “you’re too fucking good at it. I won’t last. And I wanna..”
He lost his words as you were looking at him with sparkling eyes, full of understanding and warmth.
“Of course, Joel.” You slowly got up on your feet and took off your high heels. Then you padded to the nightstand and opened the drawer. Joel saw a few toys lying there and his heart started to beat faster when he imagined using them on you. Maybe he could suggest it, he mused inwardly, but when you started sliding your panties and bra off your body, he lost his train of thought.
Now completely naked you came up to him and placed your hands on his broad shoulders. Then you planted your knees on each side of him and got on his lap.
“You’re beautiful,” Joel said in a low voice as his hands found your hips and he rubbed your skin with his calloused thumbs.
You thanked him, smiling, and opened the package with your teeth. You brought the condom to his hard cock, slid it on and then got up on your knees, your pussy hovering over Joel’s tip.
You searched for his eyes and as soon as your eyes locked, you started sinking on his thick length.
Joel watched pleasure twisting your face while his cock was slowly parting your insides. He moaned at the sensation of your wet warm pussy welcoming him, grasped your hips tightly and when you took all of him, your ass was flush with his balls, you both loudly sighed.
“You feel so good, baby. So warm and tight.”
“Thank you, Joel. Your cock is so fucking big.”
He took a sharp breath, hearing you curse, and at the back of his mind he wondered if you said it to every client but he drove the thought away. He needed you too much.
Your breasts were right in front of his face and he asked, looking up at you, as if you were a goddess he was praying to.
“Is it ok if I kiss your body?”
“Yes, Joel, please. You can do anything to me.”
“Just not kiss your beautiful lips?”
“Joel,” you whined and he felt you clench around his hard cock.
He scolded himself for those words as soon as they left his stupid mouth. It was the thing you kept for yourself, he understood and accepted it but his desire drove him insatiable.
“I’m sorry, baby, I know it’s a rule. I understand it. It’s jus’ my brain doesn’t work properly, all the blood is down there.”
“Oh, right,” you softly giggled, “Let me shut you up then.”
You lifted your hips, making his cock almost leave the heaven of your cunt, but when the tip was close to slipping out, you sank back down on his manhood inch by inch, gliding your hands over his broad chest.
Joel’s mouth got slack and you both moaned at the ecstatic sensation of him, filling you up again.
With a groan Joel swiftly put his mouth on your breast and you whimpered when he swirled his tongue around your perky nipple. While he was gently sucking and licking your tits, you were languidly riding him, as soft whimpers were leaving your half parted mouth. At one point you nuzzled his forehead and your hot breath on his lips let him imagine you kiss him. His fingers dug into your hips but just for a second. Afraid to hurt you he glided them over your back and arms. He raised his lips to your neck and kissed your skin there.
Joel knew that he was getting close. His hand slithered to your pussy and he slipped his thumb between your folds. He found your clit hardened and throbbing for attention. He began stroking it slowly and you reacted immediately with the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
“Joel,” you breathed out and he clenched his jaw, trying not to explode right then and there.
“Want you to come on my cock, baby.”
You stopped bouncing on his member and he saw you furrow your brows in concentration.
He made his thumb dance faster over your bud and soon your pussy was pulsating around his cock. Your contracting walls sent him over the edge and he started coming, filling up the condom inside you. Oh, how he wished to paint your walls with his creamy load but rules are rules.
As you both started descending from your highs, panting heavily, Joel held you in his big arms and you rested on his broad chest. You were breathing into the crease between his neck and shoulder and at one point he thought you’d fallen asleep.
But the next second you sat up straight on his lap with a satisfied smile. You gently kissed his scruffy cheek and he tried not to purr like a happy cat.
You cuddled a little bit more but soon his time was over.
“Can I see you again?” He asked when you got out of the bed.
“I’d love to, Joel,” you replied, putting on your underwear, “Text me when you have a day in mind.”
You looked like you wanted to say something but stopped yourself. You put on your clothes, kissed his cheek again and left.
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After the first time with you Joel knew immediately it wasn’t the last. The need to have you, to be with you again squeezed his heart as soon as that hotel door closed behind you. But he wasn’t rich. He couldn’t spend all his money on you. So he started saving up here and there, anything he could, without damaging the level of life of his daughter.
He texted you as soon as he had enough to pay you and you told him that your regulars got a discount which was a nice surprise for him.
Joel invited you to his place. Sarah was at a sleepover and he had the house for himself for a night. He needed just a couple of hours, no way he could afford a whole night with you.
When you arrived at his place, wearing a pair of tight jeans and a tank top, his mouth immediately started watering. He tried to be a gentleman and a good host and gave you a tour of the house, but when you stepped into his bedroom, all his decency came crashing down. Soon your jeans were discarded on the floor while his head was between your trembling thighs. Joel was licking up your juices straight from the source, grunting into your wet cunt and fucking his tongue into your clenching hole. He was fully clothed, grinding his hard cock against the bed and staining his gray sweatpants.
You were singing for him so beautifully when he began plunging his thick fingers in and out of your heat while his mouth was gently sucking on your throbbing clit. Your back was arched and your hands were clutching his dark curls. He curled his fingers, pushing on that soft spot inside your creaming pussy once, twice and you came, crying out his name, while your walls were fluttering around his digits.
When he parted from your puffy glistening cunt, he saw tears in your hazy eyes. Joel was happy he still got it but what filled his chest with pride was that he made you cry and writhe with ecstasy.
"I'm here, baby. You did so good for me," Joel praised you, climbing up the bed and taking you in his arms. You were trying to catch your breath and he gave you a respite, manhandling you so your head would be resting on his broad shoulder.
"Thank you, Joel, you didn't have to," you mumbled.
"Have to? Sweetheart, it was my pleasure."
He heard your giggle, followed by a content sigh. His hard cock was tenting his gray sweatpants but he didn't care. He was happy to hold you, breathe in the fruity scent of your hair, and when a few minutes later he saw you peacefully sleeping in his embrace, his heart almost burst with affection. He closed his eyes for a second and drifted off too.
Joel woke up in the middle of the night when he felt you move in your sleep. He must have woken you up as you started to shuffle next to him and then sat up straight.
“Fuck! I fell asleep?” You asked, eyes widened, covering your naked thighs with a bedspread.
“Yeah, me too.”
“I’m so sorry, Joel. It’s never happened before. Oh my god, it’s so unprofessional.”
He hastily sat up next to you, taking your hands in his.
“Hey, no. It’s ok. I loved sleeping with you— next to you.”
He smiled, leaning closer to you and rubbing your hands with his thumbs, trying to reassure you and it seemed to work because you gave him an apologetic smile but he felt you relax a little.
“I won’t take any money from you today.”
“No, you spent so much time with me. I owe you even more.”
“Joel, you ate me out, made me come, and then I fell asleep. I definitely don’t deserve to get paid,” you giggled. “The way I see it I owe you now.”
“I’ll think about the career change,” Joel chuckled and at the same time he felt his cock get harder when you talked about the oral. The arousal he had felt before falling asleep came back with a renewed force and swept him away.
He wasn’t smiling anymore, his gaze slid up and down your body and the air in the room got heavier.
“What did you like the most?” he asked as his eyes darkened.
Your breath hitched and even in the dim light of the room he saw your pupils dilate. You dropped your gaze for a second and when you raised your eyes, they were filled with need and desire.
“I loved how much you enjoyed it. How good you were. It felt amazing when your mouth was on my clit. When you were sucking it,” you bit your lip almost shyly and your words went straight to his cock.
You whispered, “Should I go or…?”
“I wanna fuck you,” Joel interrupted you, palming his stiffening bulge, and you quickly nodded before throwing away the bedspread and taking off your top. Your tits bounced as you straddled him and he wrapped his big arms around your naked body.
Joel let you take off his shirt and when your lips latched onto his neck he held you closer and flipped you on the bed, covering you with his body.
You gasped at the fast shift but then moaned when Joel pulled his cock out of his sweatpants.
It was already hard as a rock and wet with precum under his fingers. He gave it a few pumps to spread it over his heated skin.
“Shit, condoms.”
He hastily reached to grab a pack from the nightstand. He opened one, while your fingers were caressing him, dancing over his torso and arms. As soon as the protection was on, you pulled him closer and he pushed his length into you without any warning. He had already stretched you with his tongue and fingers so his tip easily slipped into your crying hole.
“Oh, yeah, baby,” Joel breathed out and started rolling his hips. His lips were caressing every spot he could reach and you were kissing his shoulders and neck.
Without pausing he braced his hands on the bed, hovering over you, his dark gaze locked with yours. He wanted to memorize every lip bite, every twitch of your brows when his cock was sliding in and out your needy cunt. You were so wet for him, he felt your juices on his balls and inner thighs and he closed his eyes trying not to come too soon.
“Look at me, Joel,” you purred and he immediately did what you asked. Your gaze slid from his dark eyes to his lips and it took everything from him not to kiss you right now.
He leaned down and instead gently kissed your heated cheek, leaving a wet spot on your soft skin. With a whimper you wrapped your legs around his waist and started grinding your hips, chasing your orgasm by rubbing your little clit against his pubic bone.
“Do ya wanna come, sweetheart?
“Only if you want me to, Joel,” you breathed out and he furrowed his brows, reminded of the nature of your relationship.
“ ‘course I do.”
With that he pulled away from you and sat up on his knees between your sweaty thighs. “Let me…,” he pulled out and you whined.
“Oh, baby, so impatient.”
You bit your lip with a sly smile but Joel quickly wiped it off your face when he took the condom off and asked,
“Can I slap your pretty pussy with my cock, sweetheart?” He gripped his cock at the base, squeezing it a little to postpone his climax and when you whispered a sultry ‘yes’ he slapped your clit with the tip of his throbbing length.
“Oh my god, Joel!” you cried out with a jerk, looking up at him with your brows pulled together and eyes rolling back.
“You like it?” He asked and when you nodded he started slapping your pulsating bud with his cock again and again until he saw some slick, seeping out of your clenching hole. He rubbed his red tip against it, coating his manhood with your juices, and began grinding it between your folds. His tip was bumping into your clit rhythmically and your taut muscles told him that you were close to your climax.
“Come for me, baby, please,” he asked softly and slapped your clit one more time. A jolt of pleasure made you shut your eyes and a loud moan escaped your lips. Wanting to prolong your orgasm and chasing his, Joel pressed his tip to your clit with his hand and started thrusting his cock, rubbing your twitching clit and at the same time massaging his whole length against your soft pussy and his own palm.
The overwhelming sensation, your sweet sounds and the sight of you coming in his bed made him explode and he began spurting creamy ropes of cum on your belly and sternum. He growled when a few drops landed on your bouncing breasts.
When you both stilled and the ecstasy started dissipating he sat down on his heels and watched you for a few seconds.
Joel wanted to remember that image- you, beautiful and satisfied, eyes shut, chest and belly heaving, was splayed on his bed, body glistening with sweat and cum. The happiness soon mixed with regret and the feeling of longing for more, wishing you were really truly his tightened his chest. But the reality was cruel. You didn’t need a single father in your life, you were free and your whole life was ahead of you.
Your curious gaze interrupted his thoughts.
“What are you thinking about, Joel?” You asked with a warm smile.
“I'm thinking my bed has never looked better than now.”
Your smile turned into a grin and you started to sit up but Joel stopped you with a raised hand.
“Let me clean you up, sweetheart.”
He went to the bathroom to get a wet towel and then gently wiped away his cum off your skin.
Before you left, he hugged you, breathing in the scent of your hair one more time and you gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.
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You kept seeing each other for another month. Joel preferred his place to hotels and whenever he had the house for himself and got enough spare money, he would text you. In his own home it was easier to imagine you as his girlfriend, or even wife. He knew that it wasn’t healthy and he was getting a little delusional but it made him happy to think that you were his. If only in his dreams.
Sometimes Joel would literally dream about you. He’d wake up hard, yearning for your touch, your lips on his body, your gentle fingers running through his hair. It was easy to imagine you there with him. His hand would pump his needy cock and the image of you behind his eyelids was enough to make him come, groaning into his pillow.
As time passed Joel got more confident in expressing his desires. The possibilities were endless and you always looked excited whenever he suggested trying something new.
Like the time your eyes glinted with mischief when he asked if he could edge you the next time. Just the idea of making you beg for a climax made him rock hard. So during your next session he had you tied to his bed, as you were whimpering and pleading for a release, a vibrator in his hand pressed to your puffy clit. Though he caved in quite fast and finished you off with his thick fingers massaging your core, his teasing made you squirt and Joel lapped it all up with the wildest eyes and an aching cock. You returned the favor by drinking him till the last drop after he shoved his cock down your throat keeping you in place with his hands clutching your hair.
He loved experimenting with you, loved being rougher. But more often he craved making love to you, wanted you softly purring under his big body, as his cock was buried deep inside your heat, your pussy fluttering around him. He still couldn’t kiss you but your neck, your breasts, your cheeks were enough for him. Yet he couldn’t deny it— he was down bad for you.
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“What is it, baby?” Joel asked you, pulling away from your neck that he was peppering with open mouth kisses a moment ago.
You were sitting on his lap, wearing a pretty summer dress and his only thought was to tear it off you but when his hands started roaming your body, you jerked and sniffed.
“Nothing. Everything’s ok, Joel,” you replied softly and nuzzled his neck. He knew something was wrong and you were hiding your pretty face. During the time he had known you, he learnt to read your body language and even feel your mood. So Joel stopped his ministrations immediately and kissed the top of your head.
“You can tell me, sweetheart. If you want.”
For a few minutes, he was holding you in his arms, rubbing your forearm with his thumb. Finally you took a deep breath, not raising your head off his shoulder, and opened up.
“I had a session with a new client yesterday. It was horrible.”
As soon as he heard your soft voice, saying that, his insides burned.
“Who? What did he do to you?”
He took your chin between his fingers and tilted your head up to face him.
When he saw tears in your eyes, he immediately wanted to rip that asshole apart. But your expression told him that you needed him to be gentle, to be there with you and he wanted to give you that.
“He was really degrading. Clients want it sometimes but it hadn’t been discussed and the things he said— made me feel like a cheap hooker. He didn’t hurt me though,” you added hastily but Joel saw that he had. Not physically but that fucker had made you really upset.
“I should talk some sense into the asshole. Can you give me his name?”
“No, no,” you were shaking your head, “I can’t. It’s all confidential. I’ll get over it and won’t see him again of course.”
You took a deep breath before mumbling,
“I’m sorry for ruining the mood.”
Then you reached for his belt buckle but Joel’s hand stopped you and he placed your hands between his big palms.
“No, you’re not in the mood. It’s ok. Can we just cuddle?
“But— I will be in a second. I’m professional, Joel.” You shot him almost a fiery glance and pouted your lips.
“Hey, baby, your client here—,” Joel pointed a thumb at himself with raised eyebrows and a sly smile, “wants to role play a big spoon tonight. Can we do that?”
“You’re so kinky”, you said with a giggle and lay down on the bed. In a second he was holding you, his chest pressed to your back, his strong arms embracing you, giving you comfort.
He was semi hard and surely you noticed it. He felt the warmth of your skin through the thin material of your dress and it drove him insane but the way you flinched at his touch, your tears, your shaky voice told him you wanted him to just hold you. For the second time you fell asleep in his arms and he woke you up with a kiss on your soft cheek the next morning.
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Another month passed. As weird as it might have sounded, you became a huge part of his life. He knew every crevice, every curve of your body, knew every hope and dream. He kissed every spot on you, except for your beautiful lips. He tasted them a million times in his imagination but with time it stopped being enough. So he decided to invite you to celebrate his birthday with his family and the closest friends and finally ask you out on a real date.
Joel was nervous when you stepped into his house that day. Tommy raised his eyebrows, surprised to see you there, but fortunately didn’t ask or say anything. You seemed anxious as well at first, but after introducing you to everyone, Joel was happy to notice you chatting with the other guests, giggling with Sarah about something and when his daughter pulled you upstairs to show you her drawings, warmth spread in his chest. He was glad and relieved that you two got along. He wasn’t looking for a mother for his child, he would never ask you to take such a responsibility, but it was important to him that you two could be friends.
Just before dessert you asked him if you could talk privately. Tommy gave Joel a wink, lips twisted in a smirk, when you two headed upstairs, and the older brother just rolled his eyes.
When you stepped into Joel’s bedroom, his cock twitched in his jeans. It was a Pavlovian reflex at this point. He was used to seeing you there naked, your gorgeous body wriggling in his bed, whimpers and moans escaping your mouth.
But Joel told himself to calm down when you came up to him with a serious expression on your pretty face.
“Joel…,” you started and dropped your eyes, fumbling with your fingers.
“Yes, baby?” His heart started pounding in his chest. Always calm and self assured you seemed really nervous and the change scared him. What if you decided to break off whatever weird relationship you two had, what if…
You interrupted his thoughts when you raised your face to him and a little shy smile tugged at your lips.
“I want to give you your birthday present.”
He opened his mouth to say that you hadn’t have to do it, seeing you there was enough but he paused when you inched closer, your big sparkling eyes staring right into his soul. Then your gaze slid down to his lips and Joel seemed to stop breathing. He felt your palms on his forearms and then you slightly pressed your lips to his. They were barely there at first, hesitant, waiting for him to react.
He had been imagining that moment, dreaming of it for so long, so his hands immediately flew to your waist and he pressed his body closer to yours, welcoming your kiss with his whole being.
Joel’s lips started moving against yours, gently and slowly as if he was afraid to scare you away, to ruin the moment. But when he heard you sigh happily against him and your body relaxed into his, Joel wrapped his arms tightly around your torso. He wished that moment to last forever, wanted to never have to let you go.
His tongue brushed your lower lip, asking for permission to breach the last divide between you two, and you graced him by opening your mouth and letting him taste you fully. His tongue was caressing yours while his hands were gliding over your back. Then Joel gently cupped your cheek and tilted his head to give you the best kiss he could. You were so sweet and soft, so warm and lovely on his tongue and he didn’t care that you could probably feel his cock swell against your belly. Your ability to make him hard in seconds was not a secret to the both of you and he bucked his hips against your body with a soft groan.
Joel felt your smile on his lips and playfully squeezed your ass cheeks.
You giggled, your mouth parting from his.
“Happy birthday, Joel,” you whispered, putting your head on his shoulder and nuzzling his neck.
“Thank you for the best birthday present, baby.”
Joel kissed your forehead and you fluttered your eyes shut with a happy smile.
“Sweetheart?” he called.
“Yes.”
“Will you have dinner with me?”
You lifted your head and your eyes locked.
“Like— on a date?”
“Yes.”
Your lips twisted into the widest grin he’d seen on you and you nodded.
“Really?” he asked, making sure that he was really that lucky, “Fuck, I know I’m not a catch. My life is chaotic and I’m a single dad and…”
“Shh,” you placed your finger on his lips and said softly, “I’d love to date you, Joel Miller.”
Joel beamed at you and embraced you in a tight hug.
“I quit escort,” you murmured against his chest and Joel furrowed his brows.
“Is it because of me? Sweetheart, I’d never ask you to quit your job. If you like it I won’t …”
“I don’t. I don’t like it anymore. After that guy I realized I wanna do something else.”
“Ok. Whatever you decide, baby,” he said and then added with a little smile, “I can still pay you though.”
You laughed at him and playfully punched his shoulder. “Shut up, Joel.”
He took your face between his big palms, marveling at your beautiful face, and whispered, “You know how to shut me up, baby.”
You smiled and pressed your lips to his.
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Joel opened his eyes to see the early morning sun peeking through the blinds and your face twisted in pleasure just before his. He soon realized that your wet warm pussy was wrapped around his hard cock and you were slowly grinding against him, lying on your side, face to face, your leg thrown over his waist.
He moaned at the sudden pleasure and you noticed that he was up.
“I’m sorry for waking you up, honey. I just— I wanted you so much I couldn’t stop myself.”
You were breathing heavily and he wrapped his arms around your naked body and began rolling his hips, helping you to reach your high and chasing his.
“Never apologize for this, baby. I woke up in heaven thanks to you.”
You smiled and kissed him while his hand slithered between your slightly sweaty bodies and he slid his thumb between your folds to stroke your hardened clit. He was swallowing your moans and tried to get his own ecstatic growling under control, not wishing to wake up Sarah.
Soon you both exploded in each other’s arms and Joel flooded your pussy with his warm cum while you were writhing and trembling with euphoria against him.
When your climax subsided, you rested your head on his shoulder. He was drawing patterns on your back until you lifted your head to give him one more kiss.
“Sarah wanted pancakes for breakfast. I’m gonna go make some batter,” you said, getting out of bed and putting on your robe.
“I’ll help you. Be up in a minute.”
You smiled at him and bent over to give him a peck on the cheek but he swiftly pulled you back into his embrace, searching for your lips. You giggled and soon melted into his arms, while he was kissing you, passion and love in every stroke of his lips and tongue.
You were his, fully and completely, and all the fears evaporated when he realized that you were the final puzzle piece, missing from his life. He would do anything to make you happy.
“I love you,” Joel whispered against your lips.
“I love you too,” you murmured back.
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Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more stories for you, lovelies!❤️
Masterlist
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hxzbinwrites · 8 months
Note
Hey!! Saw that u were taking request <3 I was thinking that an Alestor x wife!reader being a power (but absolutely terrifying) couple would be soooo cool, like maybe they already knew each other from when they were humans, and Alestor is just 10000% a simp for his wifey lol. Hope u like it!
Alastor x Wife! Overlord! Reader | Forgiveness |
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Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Death, Killing, Mentions of Alastor being a Cannibal, Reader makes STUPID DECISIONS
In the Pride Ring is where all of the sinners and Overlords alike mingle. The uppermost ring of Hell and the closest to Heaven. That’s where some of the most feared and powerful beings live. Two of those entities being Alastor, the Radio Demon, and (Y/n), the Jazz Demon.
Together, they rule their districts with an iron grip. While some Overlords team up, like the Vees, Alastor and (Y/n) were the first to do it. Well, it makes sense really, especially because they were close during their respective times alive on Earth.
——————
Three gunshots were heard that fateful night. One ending a mans life by his hand, one ending the witness’s life by his hand, and one ending his by justice’s hand. No more Bayou Killer, but he took two more lives before he went. Awful, sick man. Good thing he’s in Hell now…
Alastor hissed as his back hit the pavement. His squinted eyes took in his surroundings, he was in Hell. Hmm, no shocker there. What was a shock was seeing the body next to his.
“Ugghh” They groaned, sitting upright on the pavement next to him. They locked eyes. It was (Y/n). Before Alastor could even speak, she pounced on him, pushing him back into the pavement.
“You sick son of a BITCH!! YOU KILLED ME!! SHOT ME LIKE I WAS AN ANIMAL FOR YA NEXT MEAL!!” She yelled, shaking him back and forth by gripping his collar. His collar looked identical to hers, and he tuned out her yelling, he noticed her attire. She was now wearing a black suit with red and white accents, one that looked like a reverse image of his. Except a few details weren’t the same, hers looked more feminine, but also had less harsh edges to it. She looked more elegant while he looked more harsh.
He then looked up to her face, she had red eyes and long, silky black hair, with red underneath. He looked to the top of her head and noticed two fluffy, black ears. They were currently pressed to her scalp, a clear indicator of her unhappiness at the current moment.
“AND TO THINK, AFTER ALL OF THAT BEGGIN, YOU WAS JUST DYING TO GET ME ON YOUR RADIO SHOW!! WELL LOOK AT US NOW, MR. ALASTOR. LOOK. AT. US. NOW. WHAT EVEN ARE YOU, YOU SICK FREAK. EVERYONE KNEW THE BAYOU KILLER ATE FOLKS. IF YOU WERENT SHOT, WERE YOU GONNA EAT ME?? WAS I GONNA NOT EVEN BE ABLE TO HAVE A BURIAL NEXT TO MY PA, CAUSE YOU ATE ME!? OH LORD HELP ME!!”
Alastor rolled his eyes, feeling no remorse for the doe that whined above him. (Y/n) was a famous musician in Louisiana, particularly in Jazz. Alastor had begged her to come onto his radio show, play some tunes for his devoted fans. She agreed, but that night Alastor didn’t show to the studio. She heard shouting in the woods across the street from the building, stupidly she went to investigate. She saw the oh so famous radio host, and with a bang of a shotgun the other man was dead. Probably in Heaven now. Trying to stay silent, (Y/n) tried to back away before a branch snapped, like a doe her eyes widened before she darted away, only to be shot right in the heart and drop down to the ground. She heard another shot faintly in the distance before she felt the wind brush past her as she fell.
“My dear, I apologize.” Alastor said, gently grabbing (Y/n)‘s hand. “It was never my intention to make you my target. I knew that if word got out about my….hobbies….that my reputation would be ruined. No more radio show.”
“You can apologize for the rest of eternity” She scowled, smacking his hand away before standing up,” You’re a MONSTER. Leave me ALONE. Hopefully someone down here will be nice, but I’m not taking no help from you”. (Y/n) finally walked away, leaving a very annoyed Alastor sitting there.
———————
About 20 years later
Alastor was a feared Overlord now, rising the ranks out of seemingly nowhere. Even with this newfound power and respect, (Y/n) still wanted nothing to do with him. She was famous in her own way. Music was not very abundant in Hell, and she profited off of that. She had little to no competition in the music industry. Becoming an icon of Hell, her name was in everyone’s mouth, making Alastor yesterday’s news, which irked him to no end.
‘I need her.’ Alastor initially thought,’ with someone as influential as her now, having her on my side will make my power increase tenfold.’ But after many times of asking over the years, he just yearned for her admiration. Not only to be on his side, but by his side. He didn’t know where the newfound obsession came from, but Alastor knew he wouldn’t stop until he brought her to him.
Alastor made his way to her huge studio, basically a small turf at this point. Without ever fighting, she’d managed to become a little bit of an Overlord, just not to the extent she could be called one. He made his way up to her penthouse, knowing the way by heart since this is not the first time he’s made a visit for an alliance.
“What Alastor.” (Y/n) asked, not even looking up from her sheet music she was writing.
“Hello my dear!” Alastor said,”lovely to see you again! I just miss you so much darling!”
“Miss me from what?” She said, turning around to meet his eyes,” we were aquatinted when we were alive, and then you killed me. What exactly do you miss me from?”
“I just miss seeing you.” He said in a softer tone,”Please (Y/n), you must realize that your death was an accident. I was never planning to hurt you. I was never planning to do anything to you.”
(Y/n)’s head tipped down, her ears pressed to her scalp,”but you did, Alastor. You killed me.”
“My dear….” He said, getting closer slowly, like she’d dart off at any given moment, just for him to not see her ever again. “My dear, I cannot imagine the pain you’ve gone through. I know it’s been a few years now, but that’s a few years you could’ve still been alive. Found a husband, had a better music career, just lived. I took that from you, and I’m…..I’m sorry.”
“I know Alastor.” She said, hugging him. Even though he hated when people touched him, she did not know this, so he internally decided to let this one time be the exception. “You know I can never fully forgive you….but after all of these years, I think I can at least try to have you in my life….but if you screw up ANY, I’m gonna kill you. I don’t care if you’re an Overlord or whatever the hell you’re doing, I will kill you like you killed me.”
“Hmm, fair enough” He shrugged, breaking off the hug as he sat down in the chair across from hers.
———————
Present Day
“So hold up” Angel said, looking at the two powerful Overlords,”He literally killed you and you were like, ‘oh well, I forgive you’. What the hell (Y/n)?”
(Y/n) was a true Overlord know. Once she let Alastor back into her life, he taught her the ways of toppling Overlords. She didn’t posses near the amount of power that he had, so he did the gruesome part for her. Building her musical empire (and later on having to shoo of Vox who begged her to join his up and coming ‘Television’ idea after Alastor shot him down).
“Oh I’d hardly call it forgiving.” Alastor said,”I get constantly reminded about it every day, multiple times a day. You wonder why it took us 60 years to even get engaged.”
(Y/n) just rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Alastor smirked, looking over at his wife.
“Well, what else was I supposed to do? The man kept coming by begging me every week for TWENTY YEARS!! Lovesick puppy if you ask me.”
Charlie squealed, hugging onto Vaggie. “Look Vaggie! That could be us one day!!”
“I hope not” Vaggie said,” A freaky cannibalistic overlord and his delusional companion. I’m fine with staying as us.”
“No Vaggie! I meant married! Wouldn’t that be fun!! Married for a long time!! Forever!!”
While Charlie was helping Vaggie stop short circuiting, (Y/n) and Alastor just looked at one another with a knowing glance. Alastor took her hand and kissed her knuckles, smiling up at her.
“Thank you again my dear, for letting me back into your life. I’m eternally sorry for what I did.”
“I know you are Alastor, plus I’d be dead already now regardless.” (Y/n) giggled,”I still don’t know what overcame me that day. I mean, who lets someone back into their life after doing that!! I am glad I did though. It’s like you said in that apology, I have a husband, I have a huge music career, but I’m not living, technically, but it feels like it!!”
Alastor chuckled,”that’s right, my precious doe. Now, I am off to go grab lunch for the both of us! If you excuse me, I shall make a trip down to the Cannibal District, and then over to the grocery store for your food!”
———————
Word Count: 1,560
3K notes · View notes
notafunkiller · 9 months
Text
tying you to me
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Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.
Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader
Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 5.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.
“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.
“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”
Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”
“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”
“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.
“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”
He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…
“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”
“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”
“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”
“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.
“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”
“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”
Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”
“Night...”
*
The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.
You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.
“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”
“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.
Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”
You shake your head weakly.
“Look, I-”
“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”
You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”
The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.
“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.
What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?
“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”
“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”
“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”
“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”
You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.
“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”
“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”
“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”
“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”
“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”
Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”
“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”
“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”
“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”
You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.
“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.
He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.
“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”
“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.
He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...
“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”
“Then what is it?” You're confused.
“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.
“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”
“I... I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Deal with this... with you.”
“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”
“I just... struggle with change.”
“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.
“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”
“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”
“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”
You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”
“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”
You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”
“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”
“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.
“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”
Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.
“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”
“W-what? No!”
“No?”
“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”
You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?
“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”
Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.
But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.
“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.
He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.
You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.
“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”
He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.
“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.
“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”
He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.
You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.
“For you. This is all for you.”
Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!
“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.
“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.
“James!”
But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.
You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.
He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.
You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.
“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.
He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.
“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.
“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.
“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”
You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.
“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.
“You didn’t take them off.”
“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”
You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.
“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”
You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.
“James-”
“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”
You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”
Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.
“Good boy.”
That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:
“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”
“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”
That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.
He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.
“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”
Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.
“You got a kink for my arm now?”
“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.
When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.
“You shave,” you say, surprised.
“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”
You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.
You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.
“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.
“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“W-what?”
“Hands behind your back.”
“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.
“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”
No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.
You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.
He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.
“Too tight?”
“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.
“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”
You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.
“Words, please.”
“Yes, James.”
“Good girl.”
You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...
You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.
“Are you clean? Anything-”
“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”
You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.
“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.
“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”
You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?
You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.
“Won’t the neighbor mind?”
“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.
“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”
You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!
“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”
You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.
He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.
“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.
“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”
“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”
“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”
“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”
You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”
You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.
“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”
He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.
That hot ass…
“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”
And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.
“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”
He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.
You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.
“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”
You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.
“J-James...”
He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.
“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.
“Barnes, you’re heavy!”
His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.
Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.
“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.
After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.
“Gonna buy some cream.”
You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”
Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”
“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.
“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.
“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”
He doesn’t laugh.
“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”
“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.
“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”
“Put it on, it’s freezing.”
“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.
“On.”
“Fine!”
He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”
You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.
“Really?”
“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”
You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”
“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”
“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”
You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”
“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”
“Me.”
“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”
“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”
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on-the-clear-blue · 1 month
Text
Dead Man's Diner pt 4
"THOSE FUCKING BITCHES SAM!" Danny shouted as he stormed into his apartment, slinging his backpack off by the door as he toes his shoes off.
Rounding the corner of the hallway, Danny was met with Tucker, shirtless with only a pair of plaid boxers on, staring at him with sleep glazed eyes, he had a box of cereal in one hand, and a bottle of oat milk in the other, raising the bottle in a salute, Tucker stuffed a handful of cereal into his mouth before taking a swig of the milk, holding up a hand to stop Danny from speaking as he chewed, only letting his hand fall before he spoke.
"What?"
"The Bats are fucking assholes!"
Tucker looked back at the bottle of oat milk, sighed and placed it back in the refrigerator, chucking the box of cereal on the counter, Tucker grabbed Danny by the shoulders.
"Of course they are Jerks Danny..." his grip tightened as he started to shake the Halfa, "I have ten deadlines and 5 missed calls, I really want to geek out right now about you meeting the local heroes but I really don't have the time, so yes, jerks, tell me about it later okay?"
Danny phased through the tough grip on his shoulders, letting out a giggle as he watched Tucker fumble as he no longer had someone to help steady himself, "I did yell specifically for Sam, Tuck so you can't get mad at me! Go huant the Wanyetech building, I know for sure those dudes are way more dead inside than I am!"
Getting a groan from his friend at his dead pun, Danny continued into the apartment, snatching Tuckers cereal box off the counter as he went to sit in the living room.
Spotting Sam typing something on a lap top, her big over the ear headphones blaring as he flops down next to her, which thankfully was enough for her to notice him.
Offering g the box of cereal to her, she sent him a tired smile as she slipped the head phones off and took some of the fruit flavored rings, "Hey there Deadstuff...how was work?"
Danny sent her a grin, "Well, Clocky decided to throw me a bone and I think I got this? He is a little bitch boy that sends me all over the place but this time it was a dined, Lunch Lady taught me how to cook." Pasuing to stuff a new handful of tasty fruity goodness, Danny spoke around the cereal in his mouth "Cookin' ish so much more cool when da food isn't trying to kill you"
Slapping Danny's arm as she rolled her "Don't eat with your mind full and tell me what got you so riled up" Sliding her laptop of her self she tucked her knees up before stretching them out over Danny, who was already going off on his story.
"Wait wait! You had Nightwing in you're restaurant and you didn't get me an autograph?" Same shot Danny a scowl, who at least had the decency to look sorry
"I was going to but they fucking dined and dashed Sam! Even when I was actively Phantom, I never, ever just left a bill!"
---
Dick knew that perhaps eating the food was a slightly bad idea, given the look B gave them when him and Tim pulled into the Cave.
He was standing there, arms crossed, thankfully cowl down, what made the sight infinitely less intimidating was Damian doing the same next to him, his head tilted to look down at them and perhaps standing on his tittpy toes a little bit.
Dick wanted to coo at the father son bonding, but remembered he had to act at least a little chastised at the moment "Yes I am sorry B, It was my decision to head in, there was no outward danger so we just took a chance."
Wincing at the gruff grunt he got from that Dick powered on, "I will write a more detailed report, but personally if anything wrong it's likely that the kid working there is Meta? I dont-"
"He can't be meta! He is very clearly a ghost Dick!" Tim interrupted already flipping through some notes he had made on the way back home, "its the only explanation...or he is a 5th dimensional Imp with a passion for cooking but I really hope not those guys suck to deal with..."
Dick nodded at that, but had to say some thing foe his own superfan imp "Nightmite is a chill dude helps sometimes with cases back in Bludhaven!"
Giving a sigh, Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose, "No mites, no metas, no ghost, go to Medbay I am running blood tests on what sweet hell you have ingested."
---
Bruce ran the test again, sure that it was wrong, praying that it was wrong.
TEST COMPLETE
TRACE LAZARUS WATERS DETECTED
Underneath was lists of chemical make ups of the samples Tim took and his sons blood, there were varying levels through out the food samples, some lighter but others were heavy on it.
What was stumping him was...it was nearly perfectly pure, the pits naturally over time get polluted, with the dirt and sediment that falls in, and with the various amounts of bodily parts and fluids that are dipped in it.
But the trace amounts Bruce was finding were a better quality than Ra's own personal pool, not the one he dips in to regain his youth that the LOA make a ritual out of, no the privet one in the Alps that was clear as glacial water.
It didn't make any sense to Bruce, who would be spreading Lazarus water around? Ra's would not simply share his secret pure stash...
Lost in thought, Bruce sat back glaring at the test results.
---
"And after I thought I was giving great service, they fucking left, no bill, no tip! I didn't even get to see Nightwings ass as he left! People say it's a godly experience! I was robbed!" Letting out a huff Danny shot Sam an incredulous look at her sudden burst of laughter. "Sa~am, this isn't funny! Never meet your heroes! I am taking this to Twitter! They shall know my fury!" His words only served to make Sam laugh even harder.
Stifling a grin Danny took out hos phone, a old busted thing that was more ducktape and prayers than actual technology, but dear go's did it still work.
<@i-haunt-spirit-holloween
[@.realwing @not-that-red-robin.real yall are toxic twinks came in to my workplace and fucking dined and dashed 0/10 Nightwing has a flat ass.]
Hitting send, Danny put his phone down, choosing to let the nights happenings go past his mind and just hang out with Sam before showering and finally going to bed.
---
Tim was hunched over his lap top, going frame by frame of his body cam footage, he *needed* to figure this out, it was like an itch in his brain that he would go through bone to get through.
His work payed off as he clicked forward another time, his feed went static before it showed a blurry blue blob in place of the diner! Proof! It was there!
Jumping at the sudden bang of his bedroom door being thrown open, Tim whirled to around to see Dicks distressed face, standing up, Tim prepared for the worst, something happened. Bruce was dead agian it had to be-
"TIMMY I AM A TWINK AM I??" Was Dicks wail as he flopped down on Tim's bed.
Letting out a shuddering sigh, Tim looked longingly at his laptop before closing it, "Dick, what the fuck."
Rolling around on the bed, Dick finally looked up at Tim "Littlewing sent me a tweet and...ugh just look!" Thrusting out his phone as he spoke
Pasuing at the mention of Jason, Tim  looked down at the screen and froze
"Holy shit...we forgot to pay didn't we...fuck Jason is never going to let us live that down."
Tim still remembered the first time he witnessed one of Jason's famous "make Bruce spend more money" rants about tipping.
It was glorious.
Tim now realized he would be one of two that was likely going to have to face it next.
"UGH?? You focus on the money and not the other parts? Tim I was called a toxic twink with no ass! This is a declaration of war! I have never been so offended!" Dick sat up, eyes narrowd while Tim opened up the tweet on his own phone.
"The comments agree Dick, I am sorry, you now have a flat ass congrats and welcome to the club" Tim said dryly, trying to go to the posters page, since it was clearly Danny who posted it.
Only the app crashed when he tried to. And again when he tried to a second time, and his web browser crashed when he tried opening it there
Tim was baffled on what was happening while Dick lemented on his bed before deciding to hack it later.
<@not-that-red-robin.real
[@i-haunt-spirit-holloween super sorry about that send me venmo and I'll pay with tip]
<@i-haunt-spirit-holloween
[@not-that-red-robin.real Fuck that face me like a coward bitch bet you wont]
<@not-that-red-robin.real
[@i-haunt-spirit-holloween...bet]
---
Somewhere in a safe house in Crime Ally, Jason let out a little giggled as he scrolled through the comments on the funniest post he had found in a while, Jason was surely going to have to speak to Timberly and Dickiebird about paying their bills but right now?
He was kicking his feet watching Dick have a public meltdown as Nightwing.
Finally, he wouldn't be the only one who had to retake the Bat Media course.
How was he supposed to know doing peace signs next to a person he just shot wasn't allowed?
1K notes · View notes
starsofang · 3 months
Text
CALL OF THE SEA / PART ONE
pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, death (minor characters), bits of gore, 141 are mean pirates, kidnapping
When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.
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The village was tranquil as you stepped through it, bare feet threading through the soft grass, hands wrapped around the handle of a woven basket. It was peaceful, as it always was, without the souls of townsfolk to burden you. They didn’t dare bother you with the witness of elders around, keeping any torment to themselves until nightfall when the small vendor shops had closed up for the evening and the old folk returned to their homes.
You basked in the warm summer rays that shined down on you as you walked past the various shops. Really, they were far from any real shops, only showcasing simple merchant carts with limited supply for the village to gather, but it was a small village, and everything you needed was for mere survival. You weren’t a greedy woman, and you were plenty grateful.
Stepping up to one of the merchants, you offered a polite smile to the older woman sitting behind it, bowing your head in greeting.
“Hello, Mary,” you addressed, and she perked up from where she stood, occupied with counting together the sum of coins she’d earned throughout the day. She reflected her own smile to you, standing a bit taller. A wrinkled hand lifted to brush strands of her gray hair that had blown astray in the light breeze, revealing her radiance.
“Afternoon, dove,” she greeted in return. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Just need a few more herbs, is all,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away from hers to pick around her cart. Mary always had plenty on hand, and usually snuck you a few extras when you weren’t looking.
“Ah, I see. Well, you know the routine, dove. Feel free to pick as many as you need,” she encouraged. You smiled graciously, collecting a small variety of herbs and plants to place in your basket.
It was a different decision every week, seeing as you often performed trial and error with them in the comfort of your home. Despite many in your village disagreeing with your efforts, you were attempting to learn more about medicines. The village was in desperate need of a proper healer, and a female one at that. The male in current practice was much too biased and reckless, though you were sure to get a mouthful if you were to express the concern.
So, you took it upon yourself. Living in the village rather than out on the mainland, it wasn’t a simple teaching. Resources and education were much more difficult to come by, and it wasn’t deemed necessary information for women to have. It was exactly the reason why you were seen as a bit of an enigmatic outcast to all – all except Mary, of course. Perhaps she simply pitied you.
“This will be all for me, Mary,” you declared, setting the basket on top of her cart. Reaching for the small pouch that rested comfortably on your hip, you dug through it, collecting a few bronze coins and setting them in the old woman’s frail hand.
Mary accepted, placing the coins in her own pouch and throwing you a kind smile. “You sure, dove? Nothing else I can do for you?”
“I’m sure,” you confirmed with a nod. “Still in the experimentation phase, I fear.”
“You’ll get there,” she assured, clasping one of your hands between both of hers and giving it an encouraging shake before releasing. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you one of these days. An old lady like myself could use a few tweaks.”
This elicited a light laugh from you, shaking your head as you grasped the basket. “You look as healthy as a babe, Mary. But yes, please do. You know my door is always open for you.”
The two of you said your sweet farewells before you set off down the grassy trail once again. You passed the other merchants, who didn’t welcome you with the same kindness Mary had, but didn’t scare you away with shrewdness either. It was a typical routine, at this point, for others to look down on you. A woman, unwilling to marry and bear children and instead, studying medicine. A true scandal, some might say.
The walk back to your home was done so without issue, but when your humble abode came into sight, tucked away on the farther side of the village for more private practice, the faces of recognizable men came into view. This was just as frequent as the judgeful side eyes you received, but much more inconvenient.
“Afternoon, dove,” one of the men greeted with a slimy smile, the nickname the village had given you slipping off of his tongue like rotted poison. Dove, a name of something so beautiful, given out of mere pettiness. You were free like a bird, yet you should’ve been confined to your cage. Something pretty to look at, but proving no use. “Never quite got back to me about my courtship.”
Right. You had ignored it on purpose. Though deemed as strange and grotesque by the townspeople, this particular man hadn’t quite gotten the hint. Lucius was his name, fitting, seeing as he was as close to the devil as they came. Conceited and boastful with no decency of leaving you be.
He was awfully determined in wanting to fix you, to make you the housewife everybody expected you to be, just like the other village women. It was common practice, seeing as women didn’t do much other than simply that. While some were quite content with that lifestyle, you sought out more. You didn’t want to be chained down to a simple man who had nothing but arrogance to offer, nor a man you weren’t in love with.
“Yes, that’s quite right,” you confirmed dryly, stepping up to your home. He blocked the doorway, barricading you from entering.
“It’s quite rude for a lady to reject,” he interjected, a devilish smile plastered on his face. You blinked up at him with a look of indifference. “I am only asking for an answer.”
“I believe I’ve told you no plenty of times,” you sighed, adjusting the basket on your hip. “I am simply not interested.”
He sucked his teeth together, glowering down at you from where he stood. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the answer, but unfortunately for him, it was all he was going to get. You were solid with your decision, and god forbid you did change your mind on being a wife and mother, it would not be with him.
“Can’t change your mind at all, dove?” he asked in fake sweetness, reaching for your hand that wasn’t holding the basket. He took it in his grip, much too tight for your liking. “Perhaps I can help change it if you give me one night.”
You scowled at his underlying tone, pulling your hand from his grasp and resting it on the knob of your door. You pushed it open, stepping inside before turning to him. “Please do not humor me with such indications. I am not interested, nor will I change my mind.”
Abruptly closing the door on him, you settled inside of your home, breathing a low sigh of relief. You could hear his faint chuckles with the other men present, their footsteps soft against the grass as they took their leave. He never took things too far, such as forcing his way into your home or worse, forcing himself on you, but you feared that day may come the longer you rejected his advances.
You set your basket on your desk, slouching down in the old chair you’d spend days upon days occupied in. Your journal sat open with ink scattered on the pages in your scribbled handwriting, brief sketches drawn about of the varying herbs you worked tirelessly on. Above you, jars lined the shelves with fading labels, filled with makeshift medicines of all kinds.
With the village and its people now out of sight and out of mind, you resumed your studies with the fresh herbs, focusing on what your heart truly desired.
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You don’t remember falling asleep. It had been hours of you with a pen in your hand, jotting down useful notes for your studies, and it was no surprise you had succumbed to exhaustion at the comfort of your desk. Your cot in the corner of the room was more a stranger than anything, but with the sight of moonlight still pouring in through your small windows, you debated on moving over to it so you could resume.
Standing from your desk, you rubbed the sleepiness crusting over your eyes, a yawn threatening to tug through your throat. Just as you began your short trek to your bed, a slight tinge of orange caught your eye, peeking in through your window. It was faint, barely knowledgeable.
Curiosity got the best of you, and through your hazy state, you tugged open the front door of your small cottage, daring to see what was outside. The orange grew brighter in view now that the door opening had allowed more light to pool in, and when you rubbed at your eyes once more, you recognized it as fire.
Fire, burning fiercely in the night, eating away at your village. The sounds of terrified screams and chaotic madness became abundantly clear when you stepped outside. It made your blood run cold. All hairs on your body stood straight in warning, beckoning you to return inside, to hide.
As much as you wanted to listen, the first thing to vacate your mind was Mary. In the brush of flames, you needed to know if she was alright, if she had gotten to safety before the angry fire had broken into her own home. Where most of the townsfolk treated you as a mere joke, Mary was the one who had given you kindness when needed.
Your feet moved in a rush to sprint towards the village, the grass damp from the midnight dew and sticking to your soles. The closer you came towards the heart of the village, the louder things grew. It was blood-curling, hearing booming voices bark various orders while others shouted in petrified fear. Mary’s house was on the other side of the village, and in an act of triumph, you aimed for it.
The heat of the flames became more apparent as you closed in on the town center. Townsfolk that you had grown with since a baby were in a frenzy, some bloodied, some weeping. They looked like they had gone through the pits of hell and crawled their way out, only to be inches away from being dragged back in again.
There was no explanation for why the men of your village were wearing the crimson color of fresh blood, or why some were laying in broken heaps on the ground. They were in agony, shrieking in deafening decibels. The healer in you wanted to stop everything you were doing to aid them, but the child in you wanted to reach Mary first.
You did what your heart wanted and ran for Mary.
Approaching her house, the flames had not yet approached. It wasn’t burned to ash, nor was it in shambles. Instead, one large man had Mary in their hold by each of her arms as she attempted to fight him off while another ransacked her home.
“Mary!” you shouted, helpless. The man’s head whipped in the direction of your voice, cruel eyes narrowing in on you. Mary joined him, fearful eyes catching yours.
The sight of the men was foreign to you, but you’d recognize heartless monsters such as them anywhere. They were mere stories shared between the village, often used to scare the children away from the sea for their own protection. The village was so small, nobody had ever worried about the stories happening to them.
Pirates. Cruel, greedy, malicious. Like dogs off a leash, bearing sharp teeth and frothing at the mouth. They raided innocent villages for their supply, leaving it in disarray once they got what they wanted. Sick bastards who deserved punishment, yet slipped away in the roaring waves of the sea before it could be handed to them.
“Let go of her,” you pleaded with the pirate, hands clasped together. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, even if you tried. Mary was just as powerless as you, and old age was starting to catch up to her. She was fragile, and with the way he was handling her, you feared she’d get harmed.
The mysterious pirate continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression. He grunted in annoyance, loosening his grip on Mary but not quite releasing. It did nothing to comfort you, and that feeling grew tenfold when the other pirate stepped out of Mary’s home, locking in on you.
“Grab tha’ one, will ye, Gaz?” the one holding Mary huffed, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. The other, Gaz, nodded in return, sauntering up to you like death on wheels. You needed to run, to escape, but he was too quick. Before you knew it, Gaz’s arms had wrapped around your waist, hauling you over his shoulder like a doll.
Flailing in his embrace did nothing. His grip was firm, arm locked on to you impossibly tight, and the punches you threw to his back seemed almost comical to him.
“Find anythin’?” the other asked Gaz. Gaz shook his head, releasing a frustrated exhale.
As chaos ensued around you, the two men began dragging you and Mary along towards the heart of the village where you were moments ago. Gaz’s grip loosened on you, before he dropped you to the damp ground carelessly. You landed with a huff, soreness soaring through your back.
Looking around, you realized that many of the townsfolk were in the same condition. Lined up besides one another, pleading for their lives, weeping with ugly snot running from their noses. Mary was beside you, shaken but unharmed from the looks of it. She stared at you with heart wrenching fright, and you wished you could’ve told her things would be okay.
But they weren’t. The village was set ablaze, its people lined up like prisoners with a group of pirates looming over them like reapers prepared for death. The peace from this afternoon had vanished, and there would be no return. Things would be forever different, if they spared your lives.
Gaz and the other pirate stood side by side as they looked over the townsfolk. Another was beside them, face distorted by a ghastly mask that resembled a skull. It sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you truly were looking death in the eye.
A fourth pirate stepped forward, eyes that should’ve been considered kind instead staring down every last villager with heated observation. He was silent as he paced slowly, hands behind his back, the fire casting a doomful glow upon his face.
“My name is Captain Price,” he introduced. His voice was booming with authority. “If you do not wish to aid us, then we do not wish to aid you. The choice is yours.”
Sweat beaded your hairline from both the flames of fire scorching around you, and the anxiety that spiked inside of you. Your eyes locked in on the Captain, watching his every movement, noting the way he stood tall and proud, showcasing the true power he held. The villagers and you were helpless against him and his crew, and he was ensuring that it was obvious.
“We seek a medic. If you cannot provide that to us, then you are of no use to me,” he explained, pausing his pacing. He took in the sight of every grim face. Once he landed on you, you shivered, looking away in a panic. “I will ask you once. Who is your medic?”
Deafening silence filled the air apart from the flickering flames that threatened to consume us whole. Nobody dared to speak a word, nor did they look away from Price. It was as if time had stopped and everybody froze.
Price sniffed, glancing around the villagers. Though he seemed collected in his behavior, you could recognize the impatience from the way his lip twitched and his shoulders tensed.
“The Captain asked you lot a question,” Gaz sneered in defense. Price spared him a glance before returning focus. Still, nobody spoke for the next few moments.
It wasn’t until Price’s hand drifted to his waist, hand coming to rest on a handgun that the air shifted into one of unease. The sight of it made you sick to the stomach. Handguns were a specialty only the wealthy or military could acquire. They were rare and expensive, a luxury to some, but deadly. One click, and your soul was taken right from your body.
Price grasped the handgun, holding it in his hand as if it were a toy. He stepped up to the line of villagers, peering down at them like useless pigs. The sight of the gun had women quivering in fear, tears streaming down their rosy cheeks. The men were men no more, stripped away of their masculinity and replaced with little boys, unable to protect their kin and fulfill their duty as defenders.
The gun was raised, threat building with every inch. The barrel pointed right at the horror-stricken face of the very man who intruded on your home earlier – Lucius. Gone was the cocky mockery of a man, replaced with a whimpering boy who feared death just as much as another. He was shaking, shoulders slouched in attempts to appear small.
“We will try this again,” Price demanded. The cold barrel pressed to the temple of Lucius’ head and you could do nothing but sit and watch, unsure of what to feel. Sure, he kept a sour taste in your mouth simply from being. But to wish death on him for being a hindrance was distasteful. “Who is your medic?”
Lucius wouldn’t possibly rat you out. He was a selfish man who took what he wanted, but surely, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that cruel.
The coward’s shaky hand lifted to point in your direction. It felt as if he were throwing a sharp dagger at you, the way he exposed the occupation you’d been so meticulously working hard towards.
Eyes shifted towards you, sending an ice cold burst through your veins. They were prodding, dissecting you from head to toe as if you were an experiment for them to test on. It was unsettling, sinking your heart down to the pits of your stomach.
“You’re the medic?” Price questioned. He hadn’t lowered his weapon, keeping it firm against Lucius’ skull, but his attention had shifted to you. His eyes weren’t warm and kind like they were shaped out to be, but rather cold, glossed over with hardened hostility.
“I–” You swallowed. “I am merely a medic in practice. I am not a professional, I do not know proper teachings–”
“Ghost,” he interrupted, whipping his head to look at the masked man. Ghost was a brute of a man, a shadow that would’ve been consumed by the night if not for the illuminating glow coming from the village in flames. “Take her so she can gather her things. She’s coming with us.”
Dread struck you right to the core. You wanted to beg for them to leave you be, to explain that you weren’t what they wanted. You didn’t want to be stripped from your home and tossed onto a ship with no clue of where your next destination was. These men were dangerous, seeping pure rancor and poisoning the very ground you laid on. Leaving with them was a death sentence.
Ghost said nothing, and even if he did, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from the subtle weeping from villagers beside you. His strides were long as he approached you, and without warning, his rough hand grasped your elbow, hauling you to your feet. The force startled you, throwing you off balance but his grip was tight enough to keep you grounded.
As you were dragged away towards the direction of your home, you could hear an uproar of cries. Terror struck the village once more and you could do nothing but accept fate for what it was. You wanted to turn your head to see what was becoming of your people, but you were scared. Scared of what you may see, scared of what Ghost will do if you look.
You kept your gaze forward, legs moving quickly to match the heavy pace of Ghost, guiding the lion into your den.
Arriving at your home, you were hit with the realization that it would be the last time entering it. Your hard work would vanish, the space you made into your security blanket would be destroyed, burned to ash once the flames settled. It tore your heart to bits.
“Hurry up,” Ghost gruffed, his voice gravelly and hoarse. Just like Price, it was assertive, leaving no room for discussion.
You made haste to pack your essentials into a flimsy satchel. It wouldn’t be able to fit much, and you could only pray they would at least provide you with bare necessities on your voyage to hell. In your satchel went your journal, the cluttered jars of experimental medicines, your favorite quill, and a daring change of clothes. If Ghost thought you to remain alive long enough to have the opportunity to redress, he didn’t express it.
“That all?” he huffed, and when you nodded, he seized your arm again. “Let’s go.”
The sight of your home became a distant memory the farther you went from it. Already your body was pleading to go back, to curl up in bed and pretend that all of this was a sick dream. You regretted not making your cot of more use, sleeping in that damned wooden chair instead.
By the time you arrived back at the town center, it was like witnessing purgatory itself. Bloodshed with the bodies of your people laid across the ground like animals tossed aside. Useless and unworthy, that was how these pirates treated them. Though your people had never been kind to you, this was a fate you would never have wished upon them.
Their faces were unrecognizable as you took them in. Some burned, some beaten so bloody their faces had swelled into ugly monsters, some slain. The sight of the deceased made you want to vomit, bile piling in your throat and threatening to expel out.
Your eyes frantically searched for Mary, aching to know if they had given her mercy. She was a frail woman, withering with her age. She was innocent.
You couldn’t find her familiar face, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or dreadful.
The three other pirates were standing around one another. They were unphased by the actions they had bestowed upon the village, as if it was another simple day. It unnerved you, rattling your bones with burrowing fear. When they noticed the return of you and their crewmate, they wasted no time in guiding you off to the small port in which their ship had been docked.
It was large, wood tainted with brown so dark it could’ve been black. It blended in with the abyss of the sea, which you realized was entirely the point. Unnoticed and concealed.
Ghost didn’t let go of you as he helped you on to the ship, nor did he release once your bare feet connected with the wood. It was just as restricting as before, causing a light pulse to form in your bicep where he held you.
“Take her to the chambers until we figure out the next step,” Price ordered Ghost, nodding his head in the direction of raggedy doors. You could only imagine what lies behind them, waiting for you.
Ghost grunted in response, tugging you with him and having you stumble on your own two feet. The wood was rough and sharp on your soles, slicing tiny splinters into your skin. Shoes weren’t needed in your village unless it was winter, and even then, the grass was always enough to consume them in warmth. Now, you were regretting not owning a pair.
“In you go,” Ghost uttered once he had the door pulled open, shoving you down a small flight of stairs towards the lower section of the ship. It was dingy and unlit, the only light seeping in being the moonlight from a tiny window.
Once inside, you recognized your new home as a cell. Barred and caged in, being tossed inside carelessly. There was nothing but a cot and a bucket to relieve yourself. It was completely empty and void of comfort.
Ghost shut the cell door, locking it with an annoyed grunt. You hadn’t even noticed him pull out the set of keys to open it for you, nor had you noticed when he locked you in. You watched as he thrusted the keys in his back pocket, the only evidence of its presence being the small glint of metal from the moon’s light.
“Wait!” you cried out when he turned to leave. You scrambled on the cell floor, hands wrapping around the cold bars. He paused his walk, throwing you a look of disinterest. “You can’t just leave me in here!”
Ghost snorted in what you dared to say amusement. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, princess. You’ll be of use soon enough.”
Ignoring your pleas, he stepped up the stairs and returned to the main deck, shutting the door and leaving you utterly alone. Silence filled the air apart from the calming waves of the sea, though it did nothing to soothe you. You were helpless, deprived of any form of escape.
You spent what felt like hours on the floor of your cell, weeping into your own hands, silently praying to a God to release you. When nobody came to your rescue, you knew it was far too late for a miracle. This would be your new life, your new home, for as long as they kept you alive.
Part of you wished they would’ve just killed you instead.
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mariasont · 5 months
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Office Sleepover 3 - A.H
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a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be
i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
part one here! part two here!
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras
wc: 4.2k
Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.
Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.
You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.
You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.
But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.
With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"
You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.
"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.
You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.
"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."
"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."
You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.
After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.
"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."
Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."
"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."
That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.
"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"
Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.
"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."
Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.
"Thank you."
His phone went off. "Hotchner."
Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.
The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."
And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.
You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.
The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.
Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.
You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.
So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.
"Need help?"
"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.
"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."
The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."
"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"
A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.
"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."
Ew.
You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.
He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"
His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.
Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.
"That won't be necessary."
The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.
The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."
It really wasn't a question.
The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.
Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."
His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"
But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."
"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.
Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.
The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.
It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.
The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.
It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."
Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"
You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."
He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.
"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."
You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"
The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.
Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."
"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."
His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."
Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.
"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."
"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."
"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"
"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."
You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."
"Because last night—,"
"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."
A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"
"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."
"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"
You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."
"Well, yeah."
"Screw you, Hotch."
You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.
Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.
It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.
Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.
Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.
Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."
There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."
Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.
His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.
"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"
You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.
"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.
"So, you know what it's like, huh?"
Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.
"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.
You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.
"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.
"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"
You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.
"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"
Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."
"Oh yeah?"
You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."
"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."
You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."
"And why is that?"
"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You would."
He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.
His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.
Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.
His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"
You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.
"I need a verbal yes or no."
Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."
"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."
"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.
His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.
"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.
You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him. 
His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.
His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"
You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.
A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 
"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.
"Is that good, honey?"
Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.
The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 
A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 
"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."
"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."
You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.
"Since you asked so nicely."
He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.
"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."
His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 
"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.
"Yeah? Is that what you want?"
"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.
"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.
"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.
"That's it, baby, go ahead."
That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.
You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 
Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 
He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 
You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.
You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.
"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.
"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."
Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.
"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."
"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."
"Right."
He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 
You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.
taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord
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Text
Stars In My Eyes
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(a part two to this fic!)
modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader
18+ ONLY MDNI!!!
warnings: fluff, so fluffy, first dates, first kisses, some anxiety/stress, a little dash of coach!steve harrington, suggestiveness
author's note: i feel like this took me ages to write! so sorry for the wait...i do sort of love how this turned out :) writing a first kiss scene is hard!!!
please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!
word count: 7.7k
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Eddie Munson couldn’t believe his luck.
Like, sure he’s gotten lucky a few times before.  There was that one time an officer let him off with a warning after he rolled through a stop sign, he’d played the “I’m a teacher during finals week” card and it had seemed to work out pretty well for him.  There were also a few times when a stranger in front of him at the Starbucks drive thru had paid for his morning coffee, only for him to turn around and see there was no one behind him to pay it forward to.  
And then, there was that time back during his final senior year where Stacy Cowell was going through a “rebel phase” and decided to give Eddie a string of random blowjobs over the course of a week and a half to make herself feel like she was living on “the wild side.”  She quickly transitioned out of that phase when Eddie had asked her out on a date, he figured they should probably make an effort to learn a little about each other if she was going to be deepthroating him in the back of his van every other day after school.  She turned him down with a disgusted sneer, leaving Eddie a little heartbroken by the fact that a girl could be so offended at the idea of a date with him.  
But none of that even mattered to Eddie anymore.  All of those situations touched by a bit of luck have been reduced down to mere coincidences now that he has you in his life.  Even though it was only one IKEA date trip that the two of you went on last weekend, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from imagining a long, happy future with you because of how fucking perfect it all went.
You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervously giddy over anything in your entire life.  There had never really been any boys that you were crazy for when you were younger.  Sure, you’d been in love a couple times before, but nothing was ever…”wow.” 
 You’d never felt any real sparks, never met anyone truly special enough to change your life like all of the women you’d seen in movies or read about in books.  
But Eddie…he was very much wow.
After you’d worked out the details for your IKEA trip that afternoon in your classroom, you found it hard to stop blushing for the remainder of the week.  The both of you decided that you’d go on Saturday morning, and Eddie had insisted on picking you up and driving there together.  He bowed his head and lightly pressed his lips to your hand in a dramatic and silly fashion before leaving your classroom.  Your knees felt weak and a bright red blush bloomed on your face as Eddie stood back up to his full height to face you. 
“You know,” he started, still holding your hand, "you're really cute when you blush like that.”
A tiny squeak is all that comes out of your mouth when you open it to respond.  
You struggle to put together a coherent sentence and settle for the smile and girlish giggle that bubbled its way out of your chest.  
“I’ll see you later.”
Eddie started to walk backwards, keeping your hand in his grasp until he was too far away and then turning around to exit your classroom.  There wasn’t much else you could do except stare at the hand that had just been held by him, while holding your other over your mouth in shock.  
Eddie waited the appropriate five seconds after being out of your line of sight before erupting into a silent “fist-punching-head-banging-fuck yeah!” celebration in the hallway.  He couldn’t believe he kissed your hand.  The thought to kiss your hand had barely graced his mind before his body had made the decision to go through with it.  Eddie was terrified that his nerdy qualities would cause you to run for the hills, or that you’d think he was weird or stupid.
But instead, you’d blushed bright red and blessed his ears with a giggle, and all of Eddie’s worries and fears were banished from his mind at the sound of it.  
Eddie decided he was going to really enjoy taking every opportunity to make you blush.  
-
There were only two days until your IKEA trip with Eddie, and somehow you kept missing each other in the hallways at school.  On the rare occasion that Eddie had a spare moment, you were at some kind of art teacher workshop.  Whenever you could pull yourself away from decorating your classroom and lesson-planning, Eddie was leaving early for the day to go look at different types of Tubano drums for his classroom.  
There were a couple of staff meetings that everyone had to attend, but the two of you never ended up sitting next to each other.  Instead, you would indulge in a game of eye tag, making yourself feel like you were in high school all over again with a big fat crush.  
While you were really looking forward to your day out with Eddie, a tiny part of you was glad that you weren’t running into him constantly.  You found yourself overpouring your coffee in the morning because of the way the deep brown shade of the coffee matched the color of Eddie’s eyes.  You accidentally took a sip out of your paint water cup instead of your drinking cup because you were staring off at the lamps in your room, wondering which one had been Eddie’s favorite.  Two days was just what you needed to collect yourself enough to act like a normal human being before you saw Eddie again.  You weren’t even allowing yourself the time to think about being in a car with him for the hour that it took to get to IKEA.  All of the workshops, lesson plans and other preparation for the start of school kept you calm and collected.
Eddie, on the other hand, was reduced to a pile of chunky silver rings and nerves.  He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had to get done before your trip…date?  Was it a date?  Did you say the word date when you asked him?  Is it even a date when the girl asks the guy-
Eddie’s frantic pacing is interrupted by a shark knock on his propped open classroom door.
“Yo, Munson.  How’s the…” Steve trailed off as he took in Eddie’s disheveled state.  “Dude.”
“I know, I know, man.” Eddie responds, plopping down in a chair that was meant for one of his students.  He puts his head in his hands, tugging on the roots to try and get a grip.
“What’s goin’ on, Ed?  I haven’t seen you this distraught since One Direction broke up.”  Steve sits on top of a desk next to Eddie, jabbing him softly in the shoulder after his lame attempt at getting a smile out of Eddie.  
Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at the stupid joke.  He looks up at Steve with a deep sigh, then stands up and grabs him by the shoulders.
“If I tell you, it stays between us.”  Eddie fixes Steve with a hard look and raised eyebrows, not any different from the look he gives his students when they’re getting up to no good.  “I’m so dead serious.”
Steve’s eyes widen at the sudden seriousness, making a cross over his chest with his finger.  “Yeah man, cross my heart and all that.”
Eddie lets go of Steve, slumping back into the chair with a huff.  
“How do you know that a date is a date, and not just a friend thing?”
Steve smiles cockily and leans forward, always interested in Eddie’s love life…or lack thereof.
“Well, I don’t know…I think I might have to hear a little more about this special lady in order for me to provide some of my good ol’ Harrington Love Advice.”  Steve wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, throwing in a wink for the sake of being annoying.
Eddie rolls his eyes, he knew it was a mistake to bring up girls around this guy.  Steve was always giving Eddie pointers on how to get chicks the way he did, but Eddie was in no way similar to Steve when it came to relationships.  Steve never had nothing to do on the weekends, always with a new girl, sometimes even the single moms at school.  He’d meet them out at a bar, woo them, take them to dinner and then even sometimes back to his place.  Despite his fuck-boy tendencies, Eddie knows it’s never that meaningful for either party.  Steve’s been pining after one of the English teachers for years, and these flings are only serving as a way to satiate his intensely flirtatious side.  
As annoying as he may be, it would be nice to rant about all of his pent up loverboy feelings for you to Steve.  Eddie knows he’s just giving him a hard time, it’s one of the many love languages they share as best friends.
“I-it’s just…she’s so beautiful man, like…holy fuck.”  Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, looking off into the distance as he rambles on about you.  “I mean just…she looks like some kind of Elven princess-angel-goddess-fairy–”
“Dude, Ed.  None of that nerd shit please, say it to me in English.”
Eddie chuckles and shakes his head with a sigh.  
“Okay.  I really like her.  I haven’t felt this way in years, maybe ever.  We met officially yesterday and just…clicked.”
Steve smiles at Eddie as he talks about you, happy to see his friend so excited about someone.
“We made plans to go to IKEA this weekend, but I don’t know what to make of it?  Is it a date?  Should I bring her flowers?  What if I do bring her flowers and she gets weirded out because it was actually never a date at all?”
Steve holds his hands up like he’s trying to calm down an animal.  
“Woah there, buddy.  No need to get all freaked out about it.”  Steve can’t help but to laugh a little at the helpless look on his friend’s face.  “Let’s just start with the details, okay?  Who asked who?”
“She asked me.  I said I liked her lamps and then she said she got them at IKEA and then I said that I needed some for my room and then she said that we should go to IKEAandshopforsometogether-”
“Okay, okay man.  Take a deep breath.”  Steve motions for Eddie to inhale for a couple seconds.  
“Then let it all out.”  Eddie expels the breath from his lips in a hard huff, looking a little calmer.  “Alright.  So, she asked you?”
Eddie nods.
“That’s good, it means she’s interested!  Not a lot of women are making the first move these days, it means that she definitely wants a slice of Munson.”
Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, but still waits for him to go on.
“Are you picking her up for the trip to IKEA?”
“Yeah, I offered to pick her up and drive us both there since it’s about an hour away.”
Steve scratches his five o’clock stubble.
“Hmm…okay.  Did she like…jump at the chance for you to drive her or was there some hesitation before she agreed?”
Eddie thinks back to that moment.  How the two of you were standing slightly too close for new friends, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked up at him, how he was surprised you couldn’t hear his heart beating out of his chest.  
He remembers offering to drive the both of you to the store, surprising himself by saying it way calmer than he was feeling.  Your face lit up a little, like you were shocked that he’d even offer to pick you up and drive you there.  You smiled and nodded your head sweetly before agreeing out loud.
Eddie feels himself smiling at the tiny memory.
“It wasn’t like she immediately answered…but she definitely was smiling when she agreed.  She didn’t seem nervous about it or anything, it was more like she was excited or something.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as a smirk emerges on his face.
“So let me see if I’m getting this straight.  She asked you to go to IKEA, probably knowing it was a long drive, and then she happily agreed to let you pick her up and drive the two of you there?  For a whole two hours there and back?”
Eddie nods, anxiously awaiting Steve’s opinion on all of this.
“I mean, it’ll probably be a good four or five hours that you spend together driving and shopping.”
Steve fixes Eddie with a look that says ‘c’mon man, it’s obvious.’
Eddie’s had enough of his edging.  “Will you just get to the fucking point please for the love of god?”
Steve sighs and claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 
“Ed, it’s a date.”
Eddie barks out a triumphant laugh and Steve does the same.  The two men high five and Steve wraps a beefy arm around Eddie’s shoulder to pat him on the chest.  Eddie can’t help but to let out a big sigh of relief now that he can stop worrying about how to act on this trip date.
-
On Friday, you could’ve sworn you went slightly neurotic.  
Since Tuesday you’d been considering your day with Eddie as a date, but it suddenly hit you that maybe he didn’t feel the same way.  What if you’d been doing all this worrying and freaking out for no reason?  What if he ends up calling you ‘dude’ the entire day?  What if he has a girlfriend already, and he just agreed to take you to IKEA so that you wouldn’t get your feelings hurt?
You’d been running circles in your head trying to prepare yourself for any and all possible outcomes that Saturday could hold for you, but none of it seemed to be doing you any good.
So, you did what you always did whenever you found yourself flipping out over something new.
You made a to-do list. 
Pick out an outfit.  Dress! too fancy…jeans?  Dress, definitely dress. not too fancy though…
Drink wine 
Watch movie
Clean house…again
Drink more wine
Possibly reconsider outfit…
After all was said and done, you plopped down on your worn-in couch, sufficiently drunk with a clean house and an outfit neatly hung up outside of your closet.  You decide to pour your third and final glass of wine for the evening, and to surrender your anxiety to the gods of love.  You hope and pray that they like you enough to let you have this one. 
-
It was finally Saturday.  Eddie stands in front of his closet furiously, wondering why in the fuck he can’t find a single thing to wear for his date with you today.  He’s got enough clothes to fill his entire closet, dresser, and a $20 clothing rack he picked up at Target years ago.  Steve said to just go with what felt the most like ‘Eddie’, but he’s suddenly unable to remember what his style even looks like.  
He wants to punch himself in the nuts for not taking the time last night to plan this all out like a normal person.  
He ends up settling for a fitted white tee, a pair of trusty black jeans, and black boots.  On a FaceTime call with Steve (so he could approve Eddie’s choice), Steve mentioned that the outfit was casual, but still fairly nice, and that the white shirt showed off his tattoos and muscles.
“Chicks dig the muscles and white tee combo, man.  Trust.”
Eddie chuckles at his friend’s ‘frat boy’ lingo, but the comment makes him feel better about his appearance anyways.  Last year, Steve had managed to convince Eddie to start going to the gym with him after school during the week, and it pains him to admit that he sort of really likes it now.  He likes how much stronger he feels, he likes sweating out all of his frustrations, and most of all he likes the way he fills out his t-shirts now.
After hanging up the call with Steve, Eddie flexes a little in his mirror before leaving to go pick you up.  He decides to do a few last minute push ups and to moisturize the tattoos on his arms so that he looks extra good for you.
-
Perhaps being slightly neurotic about this date was a good idea.
Thanks to all of your meticulous planning, you managed to get completely ready with a half hour to spare.  You decided against sitting on your couch until Eddie arrived since the nervous butterflies in your stomach made you want to throw up, so you opted to wander around your house for the remainder of the time.
You pass by your mirror, doing a final check and making sure your outfit and makeup are up to par.  You’d decided on a simple white dress, with a denim button up thrown over it and your pair of black chelsea boots that had yet to let you down.  You smile at your reflection, happy that you’d managed to choose a comfy and cute outfit that felt like you.
There’d been too many dates before this one where you’d gone out and spent insane amounts of money on brand new outfits that you weren’t even sure you really liked, all in the name of impressing your date and hoping he likes you enough to ask you out on a second one.  When prepping for those dates, you spent hours upon hours running around like a mad woman.  Shaving, plucking, tweezing, waxing.  Making sure your hair curled just right and that your eyeliner was sexy, but not slutty.
You couldn’t figure out why Eddie felt so different to you.  Even though the nerves of a first date had really freaked you out the night before, this morning was fairly calm.  Sure, you took plenty of time in the shower and doing your hair and makeup, but it didn’t feel like you were trying to morph into a different version of yourself to please a man. 
It felt more like you were trying your best to look like your favorite version of yourself. 
You want Eddie to know who you are inside and outside of work, and you really hope that he likes what he finds. 
-
Eddie stays parked outside of your house for a minute or two to try and settle his nerves.  
You lived in a small, red brick house in a family neighborhood.  There were flowers planted in the beds under your windows, and your front door was painted a deep turquoise color.  Eddie sucks in a breath when he sees your figure moving around through the gauzy white curtains covering your windows.  
How can a hazy silhouette still be so beautiful?
Looking into his rearview mirror, Eddie takes a deep breath.
“You got this man.  Be cool.”
He turns his car off and makes his way to your front door, knocking three times and then taking a step back to wait for you.
It takes all of two seconds for your front door to swing open, revealing you on the other side.
Eddie immediately feels weak in the knees.  You looked so cute in your little boots, and he couldn’t help but to let his eyes trail up the smooth skin of your legs.  He gulped a bit at the short hem of your dress, and then realized he should probably say something.
“Hey you.”
“Hi,” You smile up at him bashfully as he looks you up and down.  You take the opportunity to look him over as well, and damn.  You already knew he was sexy, but his tight tee shirt and pulled back hair made you want to drag him into your house and do things to him…
You only notice that he’s been holding a hand behind his back when he brings it out in front of him, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  
“These are for you.  I didn’t know which was your favorite, so I just asked the lady to throw together a bunch of different kinds and to make it look pretty.”  Eddie holds the colorful bouquet out to you and smiles sheepishly.  
Your mouth hangs open as you reach out to take them, being so careful for no real reason.  You look up at Eddie with those big, sparkling eyes.
“Thank you so much, Eddie.  These are so incredibly beautiful,” he watches you looking down at the flowers, gently brushing your fingers against their petals.  “Let me run inside and find a vase for them real quick.  Come on in!”
You wave him in behind you and hurry inside.
Eddie tries to suppress the excitement he feels at being invited into your home.  He felt like he already got a good glimpse at who you are and how you express yourself when he was inside your classroom, but he’s now getting to see where you spend the majority of your time, where you live.  As he steps over the threshold and into your house, he readies his brain to take mental pictures of everything he sets his eyes on, just in case he never sees it again.
Instantly, he’s hit with a sense of “home.”  The inside of your house is the perfect temperature and it smells so good and womanly, like your perfume and also like you’ve been baking something but somehow also like flowers…Eddie loves it already.
You scurry off into the kitchen, trying not to think about the fact that Eddie Munson is looking around your house right now.
Where in the hell have all of your vases run off to?
Eddie walks around cooly with his hands clasped behind his back, taking in everything about your space.  Much like your classroom, Eddie is able to spot at least four different sized lamps and light fixtures placed around your entryway and living room.  There were warm white Christmas lights hung up along the ceiling, multiple green-leaved plants in different corners, and Eddie even thinks he spotted a black cat sprinting under your soft looking white sectional.
Overall, he’d give your interior design skills an 11/10. 
He’s just starting to miss you a little when you come out from your kitchen holding your flowers in a sparkly glass vase.  
It’s an odd feeling, seeing Eddie in your house.  His ‘edgier’ look seems like it wouldn’t fit with your overall aesthetic, but to your surprise he looks like he belongs here.  You walk up to him almost in a daze, admiring the silver hoop earrings he’s wearing, the smile on his lips, and the way some of his hair has made its way out of his low bun to frame his face.  
The two of you stand there for a moment looking at each other, with you holding your flowers in between your bodies.  You engage in a staring match for almost a second too long before you break the silence.
“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” you sheepishly admit, looking down at them instead of at him.  Eddie grins at the blush that blooms onto your cheeks after your prolonged eye contact.
Eddie scoffs before he can stop himself.
“Seriously?  That’s a damn shame, sweetheart.”
You look up at him again and try not to faint at how easily the word fell from his perfect lips.  Unable to take another second of his eyes on yours, you retreat into your living room to find the perfect place for your new flowers.  You decide to put them on your coffee table, then turn around to find that Eddie had followed you in.  
He offers his arm out to you, “Shall we?”
This time, you can’t fight the smile.
You take his arm and swipe your purse from the coat hanger next to your front door on your way out.
-
Eddie was the perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the car ride to IKEA.  He had opened the car door for you, he let you pick the music, and he definitely did not sneak a glimpse at your bare, voluminous thighs when your dress shifted as you sat down.  The sweet smell of your perfume spread throughout the interior of his truck, he hopes that smell never fades away.
He couldn’t help glancing over at you every other minute, looking so beautiful in his passenger seat while you bobbed your head to whatever song you had queued up on his phone. 
“Would it be a total invasion of privacy if I played your On Repeat playlist?  I’m dying to know what the music teacher’s favorite music is right now.”  Eddie turned to see that you were smiling pleadingly at him, and how could he say no to that face?
“I suppose,” Eddie sighs dramatically.  “But, you are not allowed to judge me for whatever pops up.”  He playfully points a finger at you while keeping his eyes on the road.  You giggle girlishly.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You hit ‘shuffle’ on Eddie’s playlist and aren’t surprised when the first song that plays through the speakers is ‘The Unforgiven ll’ by Metallica.  You already knew Eddie was a fan of the band thanks to the music he always has playing a tad too loudly whenever you pass by his classroom.
“Oh, I know this song!”
Eddie’s face whips towards you sporting a shocked ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ expression.  He was definitely expecting you to be the ‘indie music’ type.  Your eyebrows furrow adorably angrily at the look on his face.  
“What?  A girl can’t like Metallica?” You fix him with a look that tells Eddie he should think twice about his response.
“W-well…I just didn’t expect you to be into them…that’s all.”  You roll your eyes playfully at him and cross your arms.  “But!  I’m very pleasantly surprised that you are!  Girls rule, alright?  Men like…totally suck and stuff.”
You chuckle at his frantic attempt at avoiding a lecture on gender inequality and feminism while settling back into your seat.  And because you actually do know and love this song, you start mouthing the words, which eventually evolves into singing them under your breath.
When Eddie thought he spotted you mouthing the words out of the corner of his eye, he was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  But just barely hearing you singing the words to his favorite Metallica song just further confirmed a fact that he already knew.
Eddie Munson was totally going to fall in love with you.
The rest of the car ride consisted of sharing music, talking about work and life, childhood memories, and other random topics.  Eddie discovered that you love thunderstorms, your cat’s name is Pascal (after the chameleon from Tangled), and that you moved here at the beginning of summer from Chicago.
Eddie swears there’s never been a conversation in history that flowed as well as yours and his.  He felt like he’s known you for years, and he hopes you’re feeling the same way.
You totally are.
-
Once the two of you made it to IKEA and inside the giant store, Eddie quickly realized that he never really put any thought into what he actually wanted to buy for his classroom.  You swiftly came to his rescue and pulled out your phone to open up Pinterest.
Together, you found a couple pictures that matched the general vibe of Eddie’s classroom.  He grabbed a map of the store and a cart, and set off into the maze of furniture.  
You were back to being shy again, now that you were out in the wild with Eddie.  He found that making jokes about all of the funny names got you giggling, and so he didn’t miss an opportunity.
He made you laugh the hardest next to the Koppang drawers.
You bumped your shoulder into his around the Baggebo bookcases.
His hand brushed yours next to a Tornviken kitchen island. 
And Eddie finally worked up the courage to hold your hand next to a Klippan loveseat.
You gasped a little when you felt his warm hand slide into yours, interlocking your fingers together.  A red hot blush worked its way up your neck as you snuck a glance over at him, only to find that he was already looking at you with a smirk.  He knows exactly what this hand holding is doing to you.
He chuckles smugly as the two of you arrive at the lights section of the store.  As he pushes the cart through the aisles, you’re enamored by the twinkling lights that are draped overhead.  You’re lucky he’s holding your hand, or else you probably would’ve fallen flat on your face.  Eddie can’t help but to stare at you as you stare up at all the different light fixtures.  The different colors and hues of light shine beautifully onto your face, and the soft smile on your lips makes Eddie wish he could just grab you and kiss you right here in the aisle.  But, he figures that would cause you to explode after your reaction to his hand-holding.
He watches as you look further down the aisle at the lamps that are on display there, your face lighting up in recognition.
“Oh!  That’s one that I’ve got in my room!”  You point at an orange, donut shaped light called a Varmblixt.  Eddie recognizes it, you do indeed have one hanging on the wall behind your desk.
“I must have it,” Eddie says with a flourish ,”Never have I seen a more extraordinary donut lamp.”
You giggle and go to grab one to place in the cart, but the box proves to be way heavier than you remember.  Eddie notices as soon as you inhale to exert more effort, and he steps in immediately. 
 No fair maiden such as you should be forced to exert any effort whatsoever in his presence.
“I’ve got it, sweetheart.”
You try not to let the name affect you but once again, you fail.  You’re left blushing and biting your lip, speechless.  You stare unashamed at Eddie as he picks up the heavy box and goes to place it in the cart with ease.  The overhead lights were really doing him favors, every ridge and contour of his body was lit to perfection.  You could see the delicious bulge of his biceps, the ripple of his forearm muscles, and the outline of his chest in his shirt….why is your mouth watering?
Eddie easily places the box in the cart, turning to face you again.  He finds you blushing up at him with wide eyes, and is unable to contain the smug smirk on his face.  The sudden lack of distance between the two of you did not go unnoticed by him, he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.
The ‘normal you’ would’ve noticed that you were obviously in Eddie’s personal bubble, and you would’ve taken a step back like the respectable adult that you are.  But the ‘normal you’ was long gone in Eddie’s presence.  This version of you was not unlike the version that existed when you were an awkward teenager who was on the brink of passing out anytime a boy even breathed in your direction. 
While you were busy ogling Eddie’s physique, you’d failed to notice the close proximity between the two of you, which led you to your current situation.  
You and him were so close together, you could feel the warm puffs of air from between his parted lips gently hitting your face.  His gaze trailed down from your eyes to your lips, but you wouldn’t have noticed anyways because you were one step ahead of him.
His lips looked so pillowy and soft, you wondered how they’d feel pressed against yours.  Would he kiss you slowly, gently holding your face in his big hands and brushing his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks?  Or would he be rougher than that, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you into him, kissing you with fire and passion?
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it.  You’re so goddamn beautiful, and you looked like an angel in this aisle of lights.  A lamp from behind you lights up the silhouette of your hair like a halo, and he can see the lights above his head reflected in your eyes like stars.  
Eddie knows he shouldn’t kiss you right now, not in the middle of IKEA where he can hear kids whining to their parents and couples arguing over which shade of beige would match their living room better.  He knows this, but he can’t stop himself from reaching his hand up to gently grasp your jaw.  His thumb slides from your chin to your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth.
His hand snakes down to the side of your neck, and you can feel the slight tremor in his hand.  You’re glad that the situation is affecting him too, because you are freaking out.  
Is he going to kiss you right now?  
In IKEA?
On your first date? 
Is this even a date?  
Do you even want him to kiss you?  Idiot, of course you want him to.
Eddie’s eyebrows lift slightly, almost questioning you.  Asking you, ‘Do you want this? Is this okay?’
You answer him with a soft smile, and you feel his hand move behind your neck to pull you in.
It is at this moment that a baby starts to wail one aisle over, effectively ruining any sort of moment you and Eddie had been sharing.
He lets out a frustrated huff, and touches his forehead to yours with closed eyes.  
“Of course,” he groans.
You’re secretly giddy at the fact that he so obviously wanted to kiss you badly.  You bring your hand up to his arm that’s still resting on your neck to give it a reassuring squeeze, and in a surprising burst of confidence, you rise up on your toes to peck him on the cheek.
Eddie’s eyes shoot open at the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek.  He pulls back to stare down at you as his face turns red.
You giggle at him, then turn around to walk down the aisle.
“C’mon, I think I saw another one of my lamps down this way!”
Eddie snaps himself out of his daze with a shake of his head, he’s sure that he’s got hearts in his eyes as he watches you walk away from him.  Grabbing the cart with one hand, he holds his other gently to his cheek, touching the spot that’s still warm from your lips.
-
Eddie ends up purchasing five lamps from IKEA after an hour and a half of wandering through the aisles with you.  
He can’t help but to act like the loverboy he is when he’s looking at furniture with you.  He fantasizes about a life with you, imagining that the two of you are actually here to pick out items to furnish your shared house.  
He wonders which kind of wood floors you’d pick out and which backsplash you’d want in the kitchen.  You’d probably want to decorate with colorful rugs and throw pillows, and Eddie wouldn’t complain.  Not as long as you’re happy.   He’d live in a pink house decorated with bows and lace trim as long as he was living in it with you.  
Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, it’s only your first date together right?
If only he knew you were having similar thoughts as you strolled up and down the aisles, hand in hand.  You thought about what kind of decorating he did in his house, you figured it was styled in some way considering the amount of effort he puts into making his classroom look as cool as it does.  Does he have shelves full of records or different posters framed and hung up on his wall?  Which side of the bed does he sleep on?  You hope he likes plants, there’s no way you could part with your beloved greenery if the two of you were to live together.
You’re quick to silence the random thoughts buzzing around in your head, it’s silly to think about these things on your very first date…you don’t even know his middle name yet!
You and Eddie both seem to snap out of your stupors at the same time, sighing simultaneously.  You both turn to look at each other and then begin to laugh, unsure on whether or not the ‘jinx’ rules apply in a sighing situation.  
-
Eddie pays for the lights, and soon enough you’re both back in his truck.  
It dawns on you that your date is almost over, but you’re quickly redirected when you hear the starting notes to the next song that starts playing when Eddie’s phone connects to his radio.
Is that…Taylor Swift?
You turn to him slowly, confused at why a Taylor Swift song is on his ‘On Repeat’ Spotify playlist.
Eddie’s already staring at you mortified.  He holds a hand up, pausing any words that might’ve come out of your mouth.
“Before you say anything,” he begins ,”I really admire her lyricism.  Girl’s a wizard with words.”
The two of you sit in a charged silence for a moment before you can’t hold in your reaction any longer.  A laugh breaks free from your chest, and Eddie can’t  help but to laugh along with you.
You’re wiping tears from your eyes as your laughter dies down, and Eddie just grins at you.
“I can’t believe it.  The rock and roll music teacher listens to enough Taylor Swift for it to end up on his ‘On Repeat’ playlist.”  You shake your head at him with a wide smile on your face that Eddie wants to take a picture of and frame.  
“Yeah, yeah…laugh it up.  As a music teacher, it’s my duty to appreciate all types of music.”
You nod along to his explanation, “Yes, of course.  How else are you supposed to connect with the teenage girls these days?”
“Right! Yes!”  Eddie exclaims.  “I do this lesson on lyrics and Taylor’s music is a great example of what storytelling in music can look like.  I respect her, hard.”
You stifle another laugh at his emotional Taylor Swift themed outburst.
“This stays between you and I alright?” Eddie points a finger at you playfully.  “If Harrington gets word of this I’ll never live it down.”
“Of course, my lips are sealed.”  You mime zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key.
Eddie settles back into his seat with a huff, boyishly smiling over at you.
“I have a very important question for you Eddie.”
He leans in, intrigued by your seriousness. 
“Which era are you in right now?”
Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back with a groan.  This sends you into another laughing fit, Eddie can’t help but to join in again.  He’s coming to find out that your joy is such an infectious thing.
“Hmm let’s see…,” he muses.  He turns to look at you with one hand on the wheel and a smirk on his face as he puts his keys in the ignition.  
“Right now…I’d have to go with ‘Lover,’” he says with a wink.
Your laughter is cut off abruptly as you gasp and bite your lip, attempting to subdue the cheesy grin that’s surely made its way onto your face by now.  
You stare unashamed as Eddie puts his right hand over the back of your seat to turn around and look through the rear window as he reverses the car out of its parking spot.  You can smell the cologne he must’ve sprayed on this morning, which immediately awakens the butterflies in your stomach.
As soon as Eddie is set on the route back to your house, he holds out his hand expectantly over his center console.  You look at it, then at him, then back at his hand before shyly placing your hand in his.  He’s quick to lace his fingers through yours, holding on tight and running his thumb back and forth.
You’re both thinking that you could get used to this.
-
Eddie (reluctantly) only lets go of your hand in order to rush around the front of his truck to open your car door for you after he’s pulled into your driveway.  He’s quiet as he walks you to your front door, wondering which way is the best way to ask you out on another date.  
You stop when you reach your door, looking down at your hand in his.  The silence begins to feel just a tad awkward as you both search for something to fill it.
“Thank you,” you start quietly ,”for today.  I had a wonderful time.”
Eddie lets out a relieved breath and grins widely down at you.
“I did too,” he begins, readying himself for his next question.  “Would you…I mean–would you like to…uh…shit, would you want to maybe do it again sometime?”
You know what he means, but it’s still so tempting to tease him when he’s blushing like this.
“Would I want to go to IKEA with you again?”
“N-no!  I mean, if you wanted to we could I guess…b-but I was thinking something more along the lines of dinner?”
You find it adorable how nervous he is to ask you out on a second date, as if you wouldn’t agree to go out to dinner with him tonight.
“I’d love that.”
Eddie’s face lights up with a triumphant smile as he lets out the anxious breath he’d been holding in.  
“Good, that’s really good.”  The way you’re smiling up at him right now is causing him to lose his train of thought.  “Um…how’s tomorrow night?  Around 7?”
“Tomorrow night is perfect.”
“Awesome.  Great, yeah I’ll just…I’ll pick you up, okay?”
You’re beaming as you nod your head, much too ecstatic at the idea of going out with Eddie again to form a coherent sentence.
Eddie finds himself smiling and nodding with you, you’re just too adorable. 
“Hey could I uh…c-could I get your number?” Eddie stammers the question out like he’s a prepubescent teenager, mentally face palming the whole time.
He’s relieved when you chuckle and hold your hand out for him to place his phone in.  He fumbles around trying to give you his phone as quickly as possible, he can’t believe how nervous he feels right now. 
He finally somehow manages to pass over his phone with a new contact page pulled up and ready for you.  You type in your number and name, making sure to add the artist’s palette emoji afterwards.  Eddie laughs through his nose when he sees it, then pockets his phone again.  
There’s a weird tension in the air that can only be brought upon by two people who so obviously want to kiss each other, but are too nervous to make the first move.  Eddie wracks his brain for a way to ask you if it’d be okay for him to kiss you without looking like a total idiot.  It’s really unfortunate that the way you bite your lip causes his mind to completely shut off and switch to autopilot.  
“I really wanna kiss you right now,” he blurts out.
You look up at him, shocked at his bluntness.  Eddie’s even more shocked than you are.
“Y-you probably should then,” you bashfully admit.
Eddie can’t believe that worked.
He steps towards you and softly places one hand on your cheek, the other going to gently grasp the side of your neck similarly to the way he had in IKEA during your almost-kiss.
Your eyes flutter closed as you feel his lips graze yours for the first time.  The feeling is electrifying, and you can’t help but to venture forward for more.  
Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than Eddie imagined. 
You plunge forward to press your lips against his, instantly deepening the kiss.  Eddie found himself instantly addicted to the feel of your lips and the way you sigh into the kiss.  It’s a shy kiss at first, where the two of you slowly begin to figure out your shared rhythm.  But it wasn’t long before you sank into a synchronized dance, mirroring each other’s movements in a way that crafted the most perfect, earth shattering first kiss.  
You let Eddie Munson kiss you at your front door in a way that you had longed to be kissed for your entire life.  This was how the women you saw in movies or read about in books were kissed.  You’d read about magic and sparks flying, and you think you’re finally starting to believe in all of it.  
Eddie moves his hand from your cheek to your waist, gripping it and pulling you closer to him.  The gasp you let out gave him the sweet opportunity to run his tongue against your bottom lip, asking, pleading for an entrance which you of course granted.  You tasted like autumn and felt like home, he decided he could kiss you for hours on end.
You both stood there for a good five minutes at your front door, making out like giddy teenagers and feeling like them too.  Eddie finally pulls away from your lips, pleased to find you subtly chasing his mouth with your own.  You open your eyes and come out of your kiss-induced haze to find him smiling adoringly down at you with both hands now circling your waist.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you once more. 
“Actually, I’m gonna call you tonight.”  He kisses you again.  “Is that okay?”  Another peck.
You're giggling as he places a final kiss on your forehead, “Yes, please.”
“Good.”
Eddie steps back, grabbing your hand to kiss it like he did on Tuesday.  He pulls you back in with that same hand to plant one last kiss on your lips, then jogs back to his truck.  He waves and quickly honks his horn twice as he pulls away.  
You’re left standing at your front door, watching his truck disappear down your street and reliving every moment of your first kiss with Eddie Munson.
When you finally make your way inside, you make sure to smell your brand new beautiful flowers before scurrying off to your bedroom to pick out an outfit for your second date with Eddie tomorrow night.  
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xshadowdelta · 2 months
Text
Former Manager
Part One: Back in town.
Jo Yuri x Male Reader (2.9K Length)
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The abrupt movements and the deceleration sensation alerted you, waking you up. Automatically you took a quick look out through the window of your seat, the clouds gave way to a landscape that brought back many memories, it wasn’t your first time landing at the Incheon Airport.
You got off the plane, taking your suitcase ready to leave the terminal. Breathing the air of that place in an attempt to calm you down, but you failed when all your memories flooded into your brain in a succession of images.
You started to walk thinking about it thoroughly, that nerves invade your body was kind of stupid being honest, you had done this before and with a lot more pressure according to yourself, after all not everyone could boast of have been a manager for the popular girl group Iz*One.
That’s right, after committing the biggest folly of your life by deciding to move to South Korea instead of go to the college you found a miracle job, specifically being one of the Iz*One managers for 1 year and a half. That was until due to some personal reasons you were forced to return to your home country. And 4 years later here you are, back in the Asian country to resume your job as a manager.
You were surprised when Wake One Entertainment contacted you offering a new job. Apparently they didn’t have enough managers in the company due to the arrival of new groups, which caused a total restructuring of the staff, leaving Kep1er in search of a new manager. That’s where you and your good work done with Iz*One years ago came in, knowing that the new head of the staff was one of your coworkers at that time.
It was a really complicated decision to make for several reasons: 1. You hadn't spoken the language for a long period of time. 2. Take care of a group full of teenage divas wasn’t an easy job. 3. And you were comfortable in your current job. Seen this way, only a crazy person would accept that offer. Exactly what you did 5 minutes later.
You came back down to earth as the cab stopped, and you were able to see right in front of you the Wake One building. You walked inside the building and introduced yourself to the front desk indicating that you were coming for the manager vacancy, one of the receptionists guided you to the conference room where your interview would take place.
The interview was nothing more than a formality, obviously the vacancy was yours, but certain guideline had to be met.
They told you that the Kep1er girls were currently in the USA for the KCON, so you would not start working with them until the next week, once they returned.
You returned to the main lobby, the keys of your new house were given to you alongside your company car with some more documents to sign.
It was at that moment meanwhile you were signing the documents that you heard a familiar voice behind you calling your name. “Manager oppa!”
You turned yourself to face the former Iz*One member and now soloist, Jo Yuri. “It is really you, manager oppa!?” She shouted in surprise, covering her mouth with her hands.
Your heart almost skipped a beat as you looked her up and down. She was no longer that little girl she used to be when you were spending your days with her. Even though she had grown up, she still had that youthful look.
“Excuse me, but…” You left the pen over the desk. “Do i know you?”
Her facial expression faded as soon as you said that, turning from surprise to annoyance.
“Do you really forgot about me, oppa!?” Her louder and offended voice made you laugh and making her even angrier.
“I couldn’t forget you so easy, Yuri.” You told her showing a smile and she sigh annoyed. “You still like teasing me. But it’s been a long time, what are you doing here?” Her tone sounded cheerful again.
“Woah, so now you’ll be managing Kep1er, they are so lucky to have you I envy them, but now I have to record my new song, hope to see you often around the company, oppa!” You said goodbye to her as you watched her to disappear when the elevator closed its doors, didn’t expect to meet one of your former members so soon.
You walked out the building to take the car and drive right to your new home, making a quick stop in a convenience store to buy some fast food for dinner accompanied by a drink.
Finally, you arrived at home, left the food bag and some papers on a nearby table and plopped down on the sofa visibly tired, jet lag was taking its toll.
Even so, you found the strength to browse through some things and investigate more about your new members while you had dinner. You were relieved to know that they were fewer than the last time, although from what you could see in some videos they seemed louder, especially that little girl named Hikaru.
You finished for today, noticing that it was already dark outside and decided to take a long relaxing shower before getting into bed, whereas you tried to fall asleep your memories of years ago with the Iz*One girls came flooding back.
After your step down you had been following from the distance the evolution of every member career, and you couldn't be more proud of each one of them, but seeing them now in real life would be a different feeling.
Then you remembered the brief encounter with Yuri in the company, you began to think about how much she changed in these years, she was one of the younger members back then, but now she seemed so much mature.
You couldn’t help but think how much her body had changed this time, she was all grown up and transform into a real woman. You even noticed how good she fit in those jeans she was wearing today that enhanced her hips and showed off her ass.
BUT WHAT THE HELL I AM EVEN THINKING! You shouted in your mind sitting up in the bed breathing heavily, how you could be thinking about her in that way, about one of the girls you took care for almost two years, the one you practically treated like a younger sister.
You lay back down in bed again, looking at the ceiling and then looked down at your pelvic area, noticing the big erection that had formed under your pants. “I must be sick.” You whispered, slipping your hand under your clothes, trying to stimulate yourself before falling asleep.
The next morning you made your way to the company, but first you took a shower and had breakfast that only consists of a coffee cup and a couple of cookies. The biggest part of the day happened in the office, you had so much work to do before Kep1er returned from their activities.
Around lunchtime someone knocked to your door, you stretched out on the chair giving way to the person who has knocked. “Oppa, let’s have lunch together!” Yuri exclaimed showing her head out the door.
She burst into your office carrying a heavy bag that lifted it to your eyes level.
“Yuri…”
“I assumed that you'll have a lot of work in your first day, and you always insisted me on not skipping meals, so it’s my time to pay you back.” she said with a big smile. She had touched you there.
“I really missed tteokbokki.” You said eating the food. Yuri was sitting in the chair in front of you, she wasn’t eating but admiring you. “Do I have to remind you that you also have to eat?” You scolded her, but she just laughed at it. “Don’t worry about me, I want to eat other type of food…” “Which one?” You asked, taking one more fried chicken piece. “You.” Hearing that made the piece of chicken slip on your chopsticks and roll off the desk, you couldn’t say anything, you were petrified.
“You spend a lot of time with Yena, now you also replicate her stupid jokes.”
“It’s not a joke, oppa.” For the first time ever you could see an unusual expression on her face, one you have never seen before, what was going on with her?
“Yuri, stop this joke now, it’s not funny…” “I’ve already told you, it’s not a joke…” She said standing up from her chair and crawled under your desk, reaching you.
“Yuri! What are you doing?”
“You are so tense, oppa, you should relax.” At this point she was fully under your desk reaching your legs and touching between them, why was this happening to you?
“I always thought that the first one to do something like this with you would be Eunbi unnie, years ago I found out she was talking about it together with Hyewon unnie and Chaeyeon unnie.” Hear that made you open wide your eyes, it couldn’t be true. “It’s kind of normal, a young women group with raging hormones and such a young manager, kind and attractive, it’s every girl’s dream.”
But she was right, back then you were too much young to managing a group, actually you still are today, even Eunbi was older than you. That’s why you considered all of them as your sisters, and that’s why this situation was so complicated.
“Yuri…we both knows this is so wrong.” You tried to reason with her.
“You are not my manager anymore and we both are adults, but mostly important…” She touched the huge bulge that had already formed under your pants. “You really desire it, don’t you?”
“Yuri, please, anyone could come in at any moment.” Your words were useless, she was already unbuckling the belt of your pants, and you couldn’t or rather didn’t want to do anything to stop her. A few seconds later you could felt how your penis was set free.
“IT’S SO BIG!” She exclaimed, amazed by the size of your dick, making you shift restlessly in your seat.
“Lower your voice, someone could hear you.” You scold her and became more and more anxious as you looked towards the door of your office.
“Sorry, it’s just…it’s incredible oppa.”
Her eyes couldn't be apart from your dick, she was totally hypnotized looking at it, but suddenly she started to massage your penis with her hands, making you moan.
She ran her tongue all over your length, from the tip to your balls and repeated this for a while, at each repeat your cock was more and more wet and your knuckles were turning white due to the strength you were grappling to the chair armrest.
She looked at your face still kneeling down ad if she was asking for permission to continue, you succumbed to the temptation, you had already fallen time ago, and nodded your head. Then she opened her mouth and put every inch of your cock she could inside her. She was struggling to make you be fully inside her mouth, but you were so much huge to her, so she decided to move her tongue around the part of your dick that was already inside.
You couldn’t describe what you were feeling at that moment, it was the nearest to being in pleasure paradise you never experienced. Yuri’s tongue didn’t stop moving over your penis, constants moves that went in unison with your moans.
She made an effort to make you fit completely in her mouth, you looked at her, noticing her cheeks filled with your cock. You let out a loud moan as the tip of your cock brushed against her throat.
She peeled herself off you for air, gasping visibly and with a large thread of saliva coming out of her mouth, masturbating you meanwhile she tried to recover.
“How the hell are you so good at this?” She smiled, taking that as a compliment. “I’ve dreamed a lot of times with this moment, I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s certainly better than masturbating by myself like last night.” You mentioned out loud as if you were talking to yourself. It took you a second to realize your mistake.
“Wait, what I wanted to say was…”
“I see.” She cut you off. “Manager oppa is a dirty man who has always thought about having me like this with him.”
“NO!” You quickly denied provoking her loud laughs.
“But it makes me happy, because you were always good and kind to me, so it’s my time to make oppa’s fantasies come true” She said bringing your cock closing to her mouth once again.
“What you mean?” You asked when a sinister smiled was formed on her face.
“Fuck my mouth, oppa.”
And there you lost the last shred of self-control you had, if you still had any.
As soon as she resumed the blowjob, you put one of your hands behind her head, making her swallow the entire of your length. Yuri supported her hands on your chair, trying to follow with her head the pace that you were now setting.
You could hear how she was choking on your cock every time your hands down her head into it. A bit worried, you tried to be less rude and give her a rest, but her hands stopped you, telling you that she was enjoying this as much as you.
“My god, Yuri...just like that…” You kept moaning, grabbing her hair that was falling into her forehead at the same time you started to move your hips making you go deeper on her mouth, fucking her throat.
She looked at you with fire in her eyes, telling you with her gaze that she wanted even more, you didn’t hesitate and kept fucking her mouth more aggressively.
You let her go, giving her time to catch her breath, her eyes were watering, and her makeup was totally ruined. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life.
You bent down to lift her chin and kiss her passionate for a while until you separated from her and leaned back in your seat. You took your own penis in your hands, offering it to her.
“Finish the job.”
She immediately went back to sucking you desperately, her mouth was already habituated perfectly to your size, so you could notice how she was improved by the time pass.
You took her hands, forcing her to satisfy you using only her head. Sometimes it would slip out of her mouth and she would struggle to suck it back in, completely possessed by lust.
Her face was between your hands now, you couldn’t stop admiring the way she was sucking you, she placed your penis into her right cheek then you touched the resultant bulge, she stopped then and let your dick rest in her mouth closing her eyes enjoying your caresses.
If it were up to you, you would have stayed like this forever, but unfortunately it was time to end.
“Make sure to swallow it all.” You warned moving your hips faster feeling your load concentrating on your tip letting you know you were ready for the shot.
“YURI!” You screamed, unable to hold back any longer, reaching the orgasm and shooting your cum straight down her throat.
She did her best to hold it all in, but at the end a bit of cum dripped out of her mouth and ran down her chin to finally fall to the office floor.
The rest of your cum was still inside her mouth, she stepped back and opened her mouth to show you the amount of cum you gave to her. You watched her swallow all your cum at once, and that made you feel hornier than ever.
“Good girl.” You smiled at her.
She smiled you back and stood up, grabbing her bag to pull out a small makeup set, and trying to fix the mess you both made on her.
“Good as new.” She said, looking at herself in the small mirror. “Thanks for the meal oppa, hope we can repeat.” And she winked at you, making you come back to reality.
“Yuri, this was amazing, believe me, but it can’t happen again, or I will be in problems.”
“You don’t have to worry, I’ll make sure no one would discover us and…” Her cheeks turned red for a second.
“And?”
“I was thinking, maybe oppa can teach me a lot of things…” Oh, she was talking on that sense.
Your cheeks went also full red color and your brain started to malfunction, trying hard to formalize an excuse, a reason to refuse while she headed towards the door.
“Oh, I almost forget about it.” She stopped in the doorway.
“I told the girls about you, and they want to see you, Eunbi unnie will host a dinner party for us tonight in her house, you can’t miss it!” She said cheerful before leaving the office.
“Great, just what I needed.” You mumbled to yourself in an ironic way, throwing yourself back in the chair, noticing that you still had your member free, and hurried to get dressed again.
You slammed your face against the desk causing a louder sound and let it out a big sigh. “I’m going to get fired.”
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cheriladycl01 · 4 months
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Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader?(no age gap). He saw that someone was flirting with her and she was oblivious to it. Then, he swoops in to ‘save’ her from a bad flirt when in reality they were just jealous. He also feels insecure about his age and to make him feel better, she reveals that she had a surprise for him. You decide what it was. Just something fluff and romantic. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))
You make me feel so …. I don’t know the word in English! -McLaren Fernando Alonso x ObliviousWife! Reader
Plot: Marrying Fernando Alonso was the best decision you ever made, you loved how manly and protective he was with you. However, recently he’s been getting jealous of the other men of the grid and how they treat you.
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Fernando Alonso had been your husband for many years. You were sort of childhood sweethearts who married young on a whim and stuck together through it all.
You were able to travel the world with the person, later to be people you loved most. However recently you had a glow about it, maybe it was the fact that you were 1 month pregnant not to the knowledge of Fernando and not yet showing but just had that dewy, glowing skin that made you look radiant.
Everyone in the paddock took notice of this change, not that they couldn’t appreciate your attractiveness before, but now it just made them swoon anytime you breezed into the garage in one of your pretty sun dresses.
Today was no different, it was a beautiful sunny day in Mexico, and you were handing out water and fruit for the mechanics and engineers hard at work on your husbands car. You knew them all by name, you made sure you did, so greeting them was never an issue.
However, nobody told you of the rookie employee that had joined them for Mexico in McLaren garage. You immediately started to introduce yourself to the man, talking to him about what he was doing to the car and asking when he had joined them.
Unknown to you, the mechanic was smitten with you and everything you were telling him about your life. He was listening to every word you were telling him, and that was the effect you had on a lot of people.
“So are you, I dunno coming to the team dinner tonight?” He asks scratching the back of his neck and your about to answer with an animated yes until you feel a hand snake round your waist and pull you closer to them.
You look up and see your husband making you smile and pull him into a gentle kiss.
“Mmm my wife will be attending the dinner” Fernando says, you can’t tell but it’s said with a grit in his teeth and a sharp foxy look in his eyes that tells him to back off.
Fernando was used to you getting male attention, but lately it was constant and you didn’t even know it was happening, you were just so oblivious and he hated that you didn’t realise all these people were flirting with you.
And that mechanic wasn’t even the last of it.
Maybe it was something in the Mexican air, but even Fernando couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you over the weekend, especially after your run in with Lewis, and your old friend Jenson.
When Lewis come up to you, you had a big grin on your face.
“Hey darling. How are you?” He asked kissing either side of your cheeks looking over you with those eyes that would draw any woman in, but you. You had no idea those flirty eyes were intended that way. You just saw the kind chocolate brown and assumed the sparkle and glint in there was happiness to see you.
“I’m really good Lew! Just getting to that point of the day where I’m so exhausted, not all of us are young athletes that look 10 year more youthful than they are” you joked to him making him laugh.
“Mmm you definitely don’t struggle in that department” he says looking over you and you beam at him.
“It’s just so warm, do you recon you can help me take my jacket off? I’m not sure where Fernando is, and the buttons always get caught in my hair” you ask, looking round quickly to see if you can in fact bother your husband with the minor inconvenience at hand.
“Of course, turn around for me” he instructs before pulling your hair back and carefully peeling the tight jacket from your body, now showing off the full look of the sundress you were wearing and how it clung to your most valuable assets in the best ways.
“New dress” Lewis asks observing it making you nod.
“Mmmm, I love getting to wear these kinds of dresses in this heat, they make me feel very pretty” you smile as you shove your hands into the pockets of your dress that when you first got it you couldn’t stop telling Fernando about them, before doing a little spin for Lewis, showing of the small slit in the dress.
Fernando came over the minute he saw the look on Lewis face, who was holding your jacket as he spoke to you.
“Lewis” Fernando faked a smile at the fellow driver, once again wrapping his arms around you so you were in front of him with a tight grip and nowhere to go.
“Hello Fernando” Lewis smiles coyly with a slight smirk. The two make idle conversation before Fernandos dragging you away trying to lightly ask you to stay out in the garage and don’t stray away.
But once he was in the car, you found yourself needing the toilet (Curse the start of your baby sitting on your bladder) and another drink due to the high temperatures Mexico was experiencing that day.
There you found Jenson who was just finishing up with an interview before his eyes landed on you.
“Well if it isn’t Y/N Alonso, looking as beautiful as ever” he grins and you pull him into a hug.
You’d known Jenson for pretty much your whole life being childhood friends from Primary school in the UK. You met Fernando when you went to university in Spain, you always joked that you would have still met someone even if it was later in life because Jenson would have likely introduced you.
So when Fernando saw you and him jokingly messing around with one another his face was like thunder.
Jenson could immediately tell and said a quick goodbye to you not wanting to be at the brunt of the Spaniards anger.
“Fernando baby, what’s the matter?” You ask, coming close to him and trying to thread your fingers through his but he shoves your hand away lightly.
“When will you see it?” He demands and you cock your head to the side, not understanding what he meant, making him groan at how cute you looked.
“See what mi amor?” You ask, using Spanish to see if he’d be calmer.
“You don’t see all these BOYS flirting with you and trying to win you over and you don’t see how it affects me and upsets me! And you make me so mad when you entertain it’s and and I don’t know the world in English because I don’t even think there is a word to describe it!” He exclaims all at once making you step back.
He was really really hurt by all this… and you hadn’t been able to see it.
“Have you ever thought that I don’t notice it because I only have eyes for you?” You ask softly, taking his hand happy and satisfied he lets you this time.
“I know I know, I just think… all of these men coming up to you … they are younger than us and it just makes me think they could give you more than I can” he sighs and looks at you with those little puppy dog eyes.
“Don’t you dare say that!” You exclaim almost offended. He had in fact brought your age into it aswell!
“How dare you say that they could give me more than you can, when you damn well know you’ve given me everything!” You say raising your voice.
“Fernando, I love you, and only you! How can you not see that!” You ask.
“I do see it, I just someone feel insecure and I worry that we are too late to experience certain things and its all my fault coz I put it off because of my career!” He explains and your head cocks to the side once again, wondering what he feels like he’s too late to experience.
“What, what do you think we’ve left too late?” You question.
“Kids, travelling the world without my career being there … I dunno I just had a different timeline for us when we first met” he sighs rubbing his temple before pulling you closer to him and resting his head in the crook of you neck as he takes in your sent.
“Baby, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I was going to wait for after the race so we could tell your parents too but I think this will cheer you up a little … and stop you from worrying about me running over with your colleagues” you joke and he sighs with a light smile pulling back to look over you.
“What is it mi amor?” He asks looking over you. You take his hand and place it on your still pretty flat stomach.
“You can cross a kid of your timeline” you say nervously with a small gulp worried for his reaction.
“Are you being serious?” He asks with a huge grin and he feels around you more to see if there is a more obvious sign.
“Yeah, i only found out before the flight out here” you nod smiling at him and he lifts you up, being as careful as possible with you as he pulls you into a hug.
“I love you so so much! I’m sorry I get so jealous of you, but you can’t blame me when I’m married to such a beautiful woman. Thank you for everything” he smiles pulling you into a light kiss.
Fernando couldn’t be more content with his life right now.
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cumikering · 7 months
Text
Neighbour Ghost x reader
2.6k | fluff, mentions of physical abuse If Simon still had his family (part 2)
Simon Riley just got back to the safe house when he saw it.
Tommy Riley, 2 hours ago, 5 missed calls
It’s mum. Call back.         
His heart thumped as the phone rang. “Mum?” he said as soon as the line connected. ”Are you alright? Did something happen?”
“Oh, Simon…” her voice cracked.
His dad had always been an alcoholic ever since he could remember. He and his younger brother Tommy grew up witnessing his antics: stumbling through the door with slurred shouts in the wee hours of the night, often breaking things in the house, taunting them with the exotic animals he brought on occasions, if he even came home at all.
Mrs. Riley turned the other cheek, making excuses for him. As a child, Simon believed her, that people were short sometimes. Because daddy was tired at work, because mummy didn’t cook dinner right, or forgot to buy his favourite beer… Until he grew up and saw the behaviour as what it was.
But she never left, reassuring him his dad would never lay a hand on her. Simon didn’t trust that bastard of a man, but it was her choice to stay and he could only respect that. It was not his decision to make.
At least if he couldn’t bring her the happiness she deserved, he had to do something to distract himself from the hell at home and divert his aggression. That, and he wanted to help make the world a better place. When he left for the military, he firmly warned Tommy to take care of mum and to be there for her if anything was to happen.
Still, Simon spent his adult life painstakingly watching, waiting for the man’s first misstep so he could eliminate that cancer out of everyone’s life once and for all. The day was finally here. His dad had chased his mum about the house with a knife.
“I- I’ve got nothing but the clothes on my back. I walked barefoot to Tommy’s,” she said between sobs.
“How long has this-“ He stopped himself. It was not the time. He took a deep breath, his hand in a fist, knuckles white. “You’re catching the next train to Hereford,” he growled through gritted teeth. “You’ll stay at my flat until I’m back and we’ll figure things out. Someone from the base will call and help you out.”
“I don’t want to be a bother, Si. I just… I don’t know what to do.”
“You’re never a bother,” he said sternly. “I only go back home on the weekends, just stay there. I need you to be safe, mum. Please.”
In Hereford, on a chilly Tuesday night as you made your way down the hall to your flat, there stood a lady fumbling with the key to her own. On the floor laid bags overflowing with fresh produce. She turned as your footsteps approached.
“Hiya, sweetheart. Terribly sorry, but could you give me a hand please? I can’t seem to get the door.” She was middle aged, greying short hair, soft spoken with a Manchester accent.
 “’Course.” You smiled at her as she moved aside. “Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” The key only turned halfway before stopping.
“I just got here some days ago.”
You grunted before turning it all the way. “There you go.” You pushed the door open.
“Oh, you’re an angel, luv.“ She thrusted a bag of apples towards you. “It’s not much, but here. Please have these as a thanks.”
“That won’t be necessary, ma’am. It’s nothing really.”
“Please, I insist.” She put her hand on yours. “And it’s Melanie.”
You smiled. “Welcome to the building, Melanie. I’m at the end of the hall if you need me.”
You spent Saturday morning baking, courtesy of Melanie’s delicious gift. Even that you devoured the apples throughout the days, you didn’t want to risk the rest going bad on you – you could only eat so much. As you let the pie cool, you cleaned up before making your way to her flat.
It didn’t take long for the door to open. Your smile fell as you blinked at the man staring down at you. His stature huge, almost filling the doorframe as he stood unmoving.
You cowered, eyes darting away. “Hi, uh, is Melanie in?”
“Melanie?” he repeated, voice gruff and cautious. He leaned his forearm against the frame, appearing even more intimidating than the situation needed him to be. “What does this concern?”
You took a step back. “Just… wanted to give this to her.” You held out the pie towards him.
“Who is it, Si?” a woman from behind him called.
The man stepped aside to reveal the much shorter Melanie.
Her face lit up. “Oh, hello, luv. What a surprise!”
“Thanks for the apples, Melanie. I made you this.” You trudged the pan towards her, shifting your weight.
“Come in, come in. This is my son, Simon.” She turned to the man, patting his arm. “She’s the bird who helped me with the door the other day.”
Still with the sharp stare, he gave you a curt nod before you followed Melanie in, placing the pie on the dining table.
“Lunch is almost ready. Would you care to stay, luv?” She made her way towards the stove and muttered, “I always cook too much.”
You smiled. “I’d love to, sure. It smells lovely.”
You helped set up the table as she finished up the soup and brought it out. Simon got himself a helping and sat across you with Melanie beside the both of you. The blond was a few years older than you, jaw lined with a light stubble, but those brown eyes. They were icy, calculating as he glared at you.
Even that the soup was tasty, you regretted saying yes to it as you ate under his scrutiny. Instead, you averted your gaze to take in the flat. The layout was similar to yours, but quality pieces furnished it instead. The large, dark couch in the corner of the living room looked particularly comfortable, behind it a tall shelf lined with books. It was sparsely decorated, and too tidy to be recently moved into without boxes about.
“Do you know if they’ve got a farmer’s market nearby, luv?”
“I don’t, sorry. I get by going to Tesco.” You gave her a soft laugh. “But I can help you ask around.”
She beamed. “That’d be very nice.”
“I do know a bakery a few blocks away with wonderful loaves though. I always buy there.”
While the both of you chatted about the area, Simon was wordless. In fact, he almost didn’t make a noise at all, but at least he’d stopped staring which allowed you to finally relax your back you didn’t realise had been tense. You thanked her again for lunch, and she promised to return the pie pan as soon as she could.
Later that evening, the knock on the door took you away from your laptop. You expected Melanie, but were instead greeted by Simon. Standing a respectable distance from the doorway, he didn’t look like he was trying to scare you this time even that his gaze was as stony.
“Thanks for the pie. Was mint.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his flat tone, taking the pan from him. “I’m glad you liked it.”
He grunted, averting his gaze. “I wanted to thank you, for how nice you’ve been to my mum.” He looked back up at you. “She’s having a bit of a hard time adjusting.”
Your shoulders relaxed. “I understand. It’s not always easy going somewhere new.”
“If you ever need anything, feel free to drop by.” He gave you a half smile before turning away.
The blond Mancunian was the last person you expected at your door on Wednesday night. You’d just taken your coat off as you arrived back from work.
“I got greedy and bought too much takeaway. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
You laughed. “Really? Too much food?”
“I’m not fond of leftovers.” He shrugged, inadvertently emphasising his size.
“Well, I haven’t had dinner yet.”
“Mon’ then.” He tiled his head towards his flat, his hands now shoved in the pockets of his black hoodie.
“Glad you could join us, luv.” Melanie smiled as she set the table.
“Hard to resist takeaway.” You chuckled as you approached. Takeaway boxes almost covered the entirety of the table. “Wow, this is a whole spread.”
“I said the same thing!”
“What can I say, I’m a hungry man,” he said gruffly behind you.
You turned to him in amusement. He gave you a shrug, but this time his eyes didn’t look as hard. In fact, you thought you saw a whisper of a smile on his lips.
Later that Saturday as you lounged around on the couch, you looked up from your book at the knock on the door. It was once again Simon in his hoodie, his posture impressive as always.
“My mum told me to run to the shops because we’re out of salt. Any chance you’ve got some to spare so I don’t have to?”
“Salt? Of course.” You headed to the kitchen, leaving the door open.
His fingertips brushed against yours as you handed him the ceramic container.
“She’s cooking pasta. Fancy some?” He tilted his head towards his flat.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow.
You gave him an amused smile. “I’m starting to feel like a freeloader.”
“It’s the least we can offer in return of the salt.”
“It’s just salt.”
“We wouldn’t be eating without your salt, if I’m honest.”
The smile remained as you shook your head.
“Come, she’s waiting.”
At the stove, Melanie thanked you for the ‘life-saving’ salt when you should be the one thanking her for her hospitality. By now, you knew where the tableware was and started setting the table, but this time Simon trailed, grabbing glasses and closing the cabinet doors after you.
“It’s brilliant, really,” you said after the first bite of the tomato pasta. “You’re feeding me too well.”  
She smiled proudly. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I’m not a culinary prodigy at all, but please let me return the favour and make the meal next time.”
“Don’t wor-“
“When?” Simon piped up.
“Next weekend sounds good?”
“Can’t do.”
You hummed. “Well, I won’t have enough time to cook anything fancy on weekdays.”
Melanie swatted her hand. “Oh, you really don’t have to, luv.”
“But there’s still tomorrow. How does lunch sound? I’ll do the shopping today.”
“I’ll drive. Need to pick up a few things too.”
You smiled at him and turned to Melanie. “You want to come with?”
She shook her head. “You kids have fun.”
Simon cleaned up while you got ready before leaving in his SUV. In the sun, his eyes were gorgeous glimmers of deep caramel framed by long, blond lashes. He’d pushed his hoodie sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms – the left one inked.
It flexed as his hand rested atop the steering wheel at the red light. You could see the details from here – skulls and rifles over fire adorned his pale skin. You wondered how far up the monochrome sleeve extended.
He still hadn’t said anything since he picked you up at your door. At this point, you couldn’t tell if he was awkward or simply didn’t like to talk. You tried your luck anyway.
“How do you find the building so far?”
“No complaints. Been there over a year.”
“Really? I don’t think I’d seen you before actually.”
“I don’t really live there. Just on the weekends, if any.”
“Didn’t Melanie say she just got here weeks ago?”
“She’s visiting.” He turned to you. “I meant it when I said she likes your company.”
You smiled. “She’s real sweet. I hope she enjoys her stay.”
When you arrived, he beat you to the basket at the entrance.
“I’ll get it. On you, luv.”
You got called ‘luv’ all the time, but the way he said it made you look away. You couldn’t ignore the tickle that ran down your spine.
On the way to the produce section, the offer sign caught your eye as you passed the biscuit aisle. You reached for the goldfish crackers you hadn’t had in a while.
“Two goldfish are in a tank…” he started behind you.
You turned to him, a brow raised.
“One looks at the other and says ‘You know how to drive this thing?’”
Nothing prepared you for a joke from him, the brooding man in oversized hoodies who barely spoke. You cackled embarrassingly loud in the empty aisle. It was your first time seeing him actually smile. He had pretty teeth, and his eyes finally thawed, crinkles by them.
“That’s a good one,” you said after your laughter died down, chucking a bag into the basket.
The ghost of a smile remained on his lips as he looked ahead. You took it as a cue to move along. He stood behind you as you moved about and picked ingredients, telling you the reason he couldn’t do next weekend was because he was in the military and would be gone on a mission. You didn’t know it, but his gaze lingered on you the whole time.
Before long, you were ready to check out, grabbing a box of English Breakfast tea on your way there. In the queue, Simon stood a touch closer behind you than he needed to, his arm splayed on the railing next to you. You didn’t make a move against it. Instead you tried to make out the rest of his tattoo, but the way his veins budged under the ink from holding the basket distracted you.
It occurred to you people had joined the line when you heard giggles behind the wall of Simon. You couldn’t help tuning into the rather loud conversation. One of the girls was dared to skydive after losing a round of beer pong, and the instructor was “so fucking hot summer came back to Birmingham”. She very much looked forward to their date the following week.
You bit back a smile. You were oddly proud of the stranger. You go, girl.
Simon tapped your shoulder and leaned into your ear. “Why don’t blind guys skydive?”
You only managed to turn a fraction before coming face to face with him. Your breath hitched, not expecting the proximity.
“Because it scares the shit out of their dogs.”
Your laughter boomed before you slapped a hand over your mouth and turning to him fully. His warm eyes returned with his smile, looking absolutely pleased with himself.
The eye contact remained a touch longer, only broken by the cashier calling for the next customer. You whipped towards the lady, gaze cast down as Simon hoisted the basket onto the counter.
He didn’t give you a chance to pay as he already had his phone ready at the receiver, shrugging off your protests. You didn’t mention the fact that he didn’t even pick up anything for himself.
It wasn’t a lot, but Simon carried all the shopping up to your flat. You gathered the bags from him after you opened the door.
You pulled a box of salt from one of them. “Here’s for your mum.”
He quickly took it and looked away.
“Thanks again for the ride. See you tomorrow, yeah?”
He nodded, but stood unmoving. His boots only thudded away when you’ve locked the door.
@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats
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tojilvrs · 7 months
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ FUCK MY EX! (AND HIS BOSS) ceo!toji fushiguro x fem reader (2.7k)
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repost from my old blog!!!
⁂ warnings: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI! toji’s not a bum, reader gets cheated on (not by toji), m receiving oral, pet names, degradation, rough sex, reader’s ex sees them at the end, unprotected sex, creampie, sex as a revenge ploy, some praise, foot on head during doggy (does this have a technical name lol?), also tagging foot fetish JUST IN CASE the last thing counts lol, toji coerces reader, use of the name ‘daddy’ ONCE, spanking, some aftercare, toji steals your panties (and your heart), reader has hair long enough to be pulled
⁂ a/n: this fic literally came out of nowhere i had no plans of writing until i saw twitter porn and a little lightbulb formed above my head. anywho this is not great i wrote and proofread it while i was sleepy so if there’s mistakes don’t tell me i will get embarrassed!!!! THE PACING MIGHT ALSO BE HORRID i was just trying to get my claws on some fictional wiener. k luv u alllll <3
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You never thought you could get this low.
You also never thought you’d come home to find your now ex-boyfriend balls deep in his coworker he told you not to worry about.
Way past the stages of hurt and with no more tears left to spill, you found yourself angry. You were pissed at your ex for being unfaithful. Pissed at the woman for fucking around with a man she knew was not available. And pissed at yourself for not figuring it out sooner. Once you got over your sorrows and finally felt able to pull yourself together, you just wanted to rid your apartment of anything that reminded you of him.
That's how you found yourself across the table from that rat bastard's boss. A box full of his old shit perched in your lap and your nails tapping the side of the cardboard. Scanning the room of Mr. Fushiguro's luxurious office and finding yourself filling with rage all over again knowing that the last time you were here, you were helping him get promoted.
"Pleasure seeing you again," you watched as Mr. Fushiguro took a seat in his plush office chair, "though it appears you're here to play the part of 'scorned girlfriend' instead of ‘concerned girlfriend, hm?’ Word travels fast ‘round here.”
"Ex-girlfriend."
"Right," he clasped his hands together over his chest and kicked his feet up onto his desk, knocking over his name plate, “so what're you here for, scorned ex-girlfriend?"
"Just want to give his shit back. Passing it on to you so I won't have to see him and blondie going at it in your breakroom." You watched the man crack a smile before speaking again.
"S'all you’re gonna do?" He knew your answer by the way you tore your eyes off of him and focused them on the box in your lap instead. Slightly slumping down in your chair as if you were a child in trouble trying to evade the scrutinizing gaze of a parent “Oh, don’t tell me you’re just gonna let bygones be bygones and let him get away with it scott free.”
His tone made you feel like your entire situation was almost comical. You looked back up and narrowed your eyes at the man. Scanning his face and watching the scar on his lip twitch when the corner turned up in a smirk.
“Mr. Fushiguro-“
“Don’t have to be all formal now, call me Toji.”
“Okay, what exactly are you implying, Toji?” he sighed before standing up from his desk and fixing his name plate, smirk never falling from his lips and eyes never leaving yours.
“I know he is my employee, but i’m not really… fond of him either. And you’re too pretty of a girl to just let him get away with cheating. It’d make you feel better to hurt ‘em a little bit. Get a little revenge.”
You broke away eye contact from him again to look around his office. Taking note of how sparsely decorated the area was as you pondered and tried to avoid his eyes. It wasn’t the most mature or logical decision, but he was right. It would make you feel better to make him hurt just a little bit. “And how exactly might I go about that?”
Toji laughed a little as he walked around the desk, taking the box out of your lap and placing it on the floor before settling himself behind you. The sweet tobacco scent of his cologne invaded your nostrils as he got closer to you, making his presence feel almost suffocating.
“Y’know what would really get him?” His voice sounded as if it were laced with a honeyed sweetness. The sound surrounding you and ringing around in your ears. He shifted his feet, but you still felt the heat radiating off of him and onto your back.
“What?”You felt him grow closer. Leaning down behind you. So close that you could feel his breath fan against your skin.
“Fuckin’ his boss.”
The lewd suggestion tickled the shell of your ear. Your eyes widening and mouth going dry once you realized exactly what he was proposing to you. You opened your mouth to protest. To tell him how absolutely ridiculous that was, but your words fell short. Closing your mouth again to look down and stare at the indentions the corners of the cardboard box had left in your skin.
You couldn’t say that you hadn’t let your eyes linger a little too long at Toji Fushiguro. Always noticing how easy he was on the eyes when your ex would make you tag along to work events. How his suits would perfectly contour to his body. Showing off his bulging muscles through the fabric. How he seemed to tower over you and everyone else with his height and domineering presence. How your gazes would linger a little too long on each other and how his fingertips would “accidentally” graze your hips when passing you.
You were taken away from your thoughts by the feeling of his fingers slowly caressing up and down your jaw. His touch soft, contrasting the rough calluses that lined his fingers. You also realized he had now moved directly in front of you and you were eye-level with his crotch.
“What’ll it be, sweetness?” The tip of his thumb travelled up to your bottom lip, smearing some of your lipgloss. “Y’gonna let me help you get back at him?”
You slowly looked up at him and nodded your head, still not trusting any words to come out of your mouth. He smiled down at you, removing the hand on your chin to pet your head and using his other to unbutton his slacks.
“Gonna make you feel so good, you’ll forget allllll about your little ex-boyfriend.”
You were still looking up at him dumbly as he freed heavy cock from the confines of his pants, subconsciously parting your lips and slightly sticking out your tongue at the sight of him. Relishing in the way he looked at you and the noises he made once his cock makes contact with your awaiting tongue.
“Already so good and fuckin’ obedient. Did he teach you that?” You shake your head and he cackles. Easing his way into your throat. “So you’re just naturally a whore, huh?” He lightly slaps your cheek, not even hard enough to sting, and moves from petting your head to gripping your hair once you take him all the way into your mouth. Testing your limits and pushing his way past the tight ring of muscle in the back of your throat, loving the way you choke and sputter around him. “Takin’ me so good. Bet that motherfucker couldn’t properly stuff your throat.”
Toji’s right- he couldn’t. He also isn’t quite as big as Toji is either, in both length and girth. It also seems that the man in front of you didn’t learn to fuck from porn like your ex did. Only pushing your limits a little bit at a time and not throatfucking you from the get-go. Also making sure you’re not suffocating on him for too long.
You began to move your tongue over the vein that ran on the underside of his cock, watching in satisfaction as he throws his head back and groans. Doing it again and again and watching his face contort in pleasure.
“Shit, baby, got the sweetest fuckin’ mouth.” His voice is huskier now, almost breathy. You watch as sweat begins to lightly bead across his forehead and his hands come off of you to loosen his tie around his collar. The air becoming too thick and hot for him. You suck him off with much more passion as you get used to his size. Bobbing your head up and down his length and occasionally pulling yourself off to lick on the sensitive skin around his balls. Not paying much mind to the spit that has run from your mouth and covered the bottom half of your face.
“That’s it- hah- fuck yeah… that’s it. Gonna cum down that pretty fuckin’ throat” You kept up your ministrations, using your hand to lightly squeeze his balls as you took his full length down your throat once more. Listening as Toji’s pants became progressively more and more uneven. Only taking a few more short moments before his abs tighten and he takes in a deep inhale as he shoots his load down your throat. His leg twitching as the coil in his belly snaps. Pulling off of him to stick out your tongue and show him that you swallowed it all.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl, aren’t you?” He gripped your chin tightly and you nodded your head dumbly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He smiled and gestured for you to walk over to the plush, black couch he kept in his office. A guiding hand resting on your lower back as he layed you down on your stomach. He took his time running his hands from your calves all the way up to your ass, like he was trying to memorize every dip in your skin. Once he reached the hem of your skirt, he flipped it up. Gently running the palms of his hands over the smooth skin and giving the right cheek a harsh slap and soothing the sting with the very same hand that inflicted it.
“Suckin’ dick make you this wet?” Your slick had soiled your panties, smearing onto your thighs. His fingers lightly ran across the soaked fabric. You felt the couch dip under his weight as he settled behind you, feeling the fabric of his haphazardly pulled down pants and the heat of whatever skin that was exposed press into you.
“Sucking yours does.” you gasp as he pushes your panties to the side to make contact with your swollen clit. The cool air of his office hitting your soaked center makes you shiver. “You’re gentler than I thought you’d be.”
“Oh baby,” He pauses, taking his hands off of you to maneuver himself around, “you haven’t had the worst yet.”
You’re comfused until you feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance and begin to push in. Your walls greedily sucking him in even though it felt as if he was splitting you in two.
“Tight as a fuckin’ virgin, y’gotta open up for me, girl.” His fingers rub tight circles on your clit. Using that to his advantage to thrust his cock deeper and deeper into you until he’s bottomed out. Your hips arching into him as any remnants of pain begin to wash away and are overtaken with white-hot pleasure. His hands find purchase on your hips as his thrusts begin to speed up. Going harder into you and somehow hitting you deeper each time, causing tears to spring in corners of your eyes.
“Already cryin’ on my cock and we’ve barely even started? Slut can’t handle it?” He slaps your ass again, not caring if it stings. You furiously shake your head as moans and whimpers spill from your lips. Trying your hardest to match his brutal pace with your own hips. “Oh, you think you can take control now, huh? I’d watch it, little girl.”
At first you think he pushes your face into the couch with his hand. That’s until you realize that both his hands are still on your hips and it’s actually his foot that’s found its place on the back of your head as he continues to fuck the memory of your ex out of you. Your pussy clenching down on him at the mere thought of the position.
“Like being treated like a whore don’t you? Shitty man couldn’t do it like I can.” You couldn’t respond back even if you tried. Too caught up in the feeling of being stuffed full by the most skilled man you’ve ever fucked and biggest cock you’ve ever taken. Writhing under him as the pleasure of his tip repeatedly hitting your spot over and over again was becoming almost too much.
Toji must’ve felt the way your pussy began to tighten around him or how your moans were so loud the couch wasn’t muffling them well anymore. His hand snaked around your hip and back down to your clit to rub shapes on it, bringing your closer to your peak.
“That’s right, cum on this cock baby. Hah- cum all over my fuckin’ cock.” He spoke to you through gritted teeth and the sound went straight to your core. It wasn’t long after that your back slipped into a deeper arch and your cunt clenched down on him even harder. A white ring of cream forming around the base of his dick as he worked you through your orgasm and worked himself closer to his.
“Such a good girl. You’re gonna take my cum, yeah? Gonna let me fill you up?” You nodded a quick yes, pussy still quaking from your orgasm. the only thing keeping your hips from collapsing into the couch being the vice grip of his strong hands.
The foot pressed into your head was removed and replaced by his right hand gripping your hair and pulling you up to meet his face. Looking him in the eyes for the first time since he started fucking you and seeing the beast of a man he’s become. Pupils blown, hair messy, and face sweaty as his grunts get louder, more aggressive.
“So pretty baby. You’re my good, pretty girl, right? C’mon, daddy a kiss when he cums. You’ve been so. fucking. good.” The last of his words were punctuated by rough thrusts into your heat. His heavy balls slapping against your clit so hard it was making you jump. You craned your head back even more for your lips to meet his in a sloppy, lust-filled kiss as he lets out a final rough grunt into your mouth. The familiar warmth flooding your pussy as his thrusts begin to let up.
He’s gentle with you for the first time in a while, gently resting your head back down to the couch before slowly pulling his softening dick out, tucking it back into his underwear, and smoothing your skirt back down. Rubbing a hand over the arch of your back and letting you rest on his couch as he pulls off your soiled panties and pockets them for himself. Also noticing a patch of your slick that has soiled the front of his pants and smiling as a mix of both of your releases begin to trickle out of your spent hole. Using two of his fingers to push it back in. The room is quiet for the first time in a long while. Only sound being the oscillating box fan in the corner of the room. It says quiet for a while, until you break the silence.
“Don’t even think I can remember the fucker’s name anymore.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You turn over onto your back to face him, watching closely as he fixes his suit to the best of his ability. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you again, if you’d like.”
He turns to face you, smirking again, “Can’t say I’d hate that.”
It’s your turn to smirk at him before letting your head roll over and rest again. Consumed with the thoughts of how that was definitely the best revenge plan you ever participated in.
You’re almost drifting off until that same thought wakes you up again. Sitting up to look at Toji.
“Wait, how was any of that a revenge ploy if he didn’t even see it?” Toji smirks, fixing his tie. Not even a second later you hear a knock on his door before Toji gives the visitor permission to enter.
“You wanted to see m-“ Your ex stops mid-sentence once he sees you lounging on his employer’s couch with his cum leaking out of you. “Wait, what is she doing here?”
“Baby brought your shit by.” Toji kicks the box towards him as he pulls your panties out of his back pocket and swinging them around his index finger. “Anything else you need? Or do you just wanna watch me fuck your ex-girl again?”
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zepskies · 2 months
Text
Lost on You - Part 1
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉
Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!
Word Count: 4K
Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…
🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist
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Part 1: Siren Song
April 3, 1983
“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.
Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.
So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.
“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”
“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.
“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”
Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”
“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”
Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.  
“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”
Soldier Boy gave him a sly look. 
“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.
“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”
“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”
Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny. 
“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”
“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.
But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.
“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.
“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”
If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.
“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”
“Something new,” Arthur intoned.
The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.
“Yeah.”
He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.
“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”
The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.
Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit. 
Fucking supes.
But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.
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It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.
After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind. 
Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head. 
On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either. 
“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.
“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.
Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”
Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.
“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.
Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”
And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.
When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin. 
Fucking show off, Ben thought. 
Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target. 
“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”
“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up. 
“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.  
“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”
“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.
“Did I fucking ask you?” he said. 
Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym. 
Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press. 
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You seemed to be mysterious. 
Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.
With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss. 
That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.  
And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point. 
If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.
Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.
You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.
You eventually noticed him with a smile.
“Good morning, sir.”
Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating. 
"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?" 
You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself. 
"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you. 
When your hand brushed his, he felt it.
Your power.
It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core… 
He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.
And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile. 
Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind. 
You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection. 
He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?
He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.
“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.
Your knowing, easy smile remained. 
“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”
Ben’s eyes widened.
“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”
How the hell had you heard about that?
He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.
“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.
Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.
Interesting.
“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.
“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.
Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you. 
“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.
“What’s yours?” you returned.
He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.
“Call me Ben,” he said.
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Three Days Ago…
You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.
I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.
Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.
“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”
“Okay, thank you so—”
The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.
You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries. 
You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time. 
That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks. 
Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust. 
You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight. 
“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”
Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.
You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.
There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.
Only show them what you want them to see.   
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Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.
You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet. 
Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name. 
You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.
You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.
Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.
Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!
Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?
Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.
Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.
You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.
Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.
Soldier Boy. 
A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.
“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”
Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.
“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”
“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.
You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained. 
Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.
You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole. 
Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.
You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.
The game begins, you thought.
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For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one. 
They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair. 
Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.
Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.
You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here. 
It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here. 
So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.
Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you. 
It had never been about you. 
You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills. 
Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.
It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned. 
Soldier Boy, that asshole. 
But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun. 
When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.
Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it. 
You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.
“Good morning, sir.”
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AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.
So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...
Next Time:
“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”
“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”   
You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.
“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”
The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2
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