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absurdthirst · 1 month

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Dominate Love {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17.3k

Warnings: Sex club, sex work, dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, spanking, slapping, tit play, anal plugs, anal fingering, anal sex, oral sex (male receiving) vaginal sex, bombings, dry humping, angst, violence, beating a man to death, feelings

Comments: When the club Joel frequents to exert some semblance of control over his QZ life is bombed, he's there with you. His favorite toy. Dragging you to safety, he brings you along as he leaves Boston and allows himself to admit the truth to himself. He's in love with you.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The bass thumps, reminding Joel of a time that only lives in his memory now. The music doesn’t come from speakers like it would’ve during his nights out to clubs during the 80s. No lights flashing or disco balls spinning. No, the music is from a live band. A sorry reminder of a time gone by, a way to escape the harsh reality outside as the band plays songs from before the world went to shit. It’s not what Joel is here for. He makes his way through the crowd, an eclectic mixture of occupants of the Boston QZ, towards the door that leads to an area very few know about. Bootleg moonshine and whiskey make the floor sticky, booze he’s played a part in smuggling into the QZ, and he grimaces as his boots grow tacky. He cleaned them earlier alongside the hidden weapons he keeps under his floorboards. He approaches the stairway, glancing behind him before he makes his way down the stairs, sighing in appreciation of the reprieve to his eardrums. When he opens the door, he is greeted by a large security guard holding a rifle and a woman sitting at a desk; her dress is tight but conservative, well, conservative for the place she works. “Welcome back, sir.” She greets him, and he nods, a man of few words, when he enters this place.

“She’s ready for you.” The woman informs him, the security guard shifting from one foot to the other while he eyes Joel. He doesn’t back down, staring at the guard until the woman stands and gestures for him to follow. Joel follows her, his eyes dipping down to her ass as she walks, but he isn’t interested in fucking her. No, he has other plans. “Enjoy.” The woman says when she stands outside the assigned room, a smirk on her face as she hands Joel a foil packet. Condoms, as it turns out, were as necessary as bullets in this new world. The last thing people need during an apocalyptic world is a surprise pregnancy. Too busy trying to survive, yet not too busy to get lost in the sensations of sex. He shoves the packet into his pocket, turning to see the woman making her way back down the hall, then he turns towards the door. With an exhale, he opens it to find what he came here for: you.

You are kneeling on the bed, naked, and your head tilted down to avoid his eyes as he enters the dimly lit room. He shuts the door behind him, making sure it is loud enough to make you jolt, and he runs his fingers along the things he requested be waiting for him. The paddle, the whip, the clamps, and the handcuffs. All part of his arsenal. He is pleased that you have them waiting for him, lube sitting on the side, and he smirks, knowing you followed his orders from his last visit. “You listened to me. Good girl.” He finally speaks after several moments, and you remain silent, drawing a pleased hum from his lips. Joel pulls his shirt over his head, wearing a t-shirt today, and drops it to the floor, leaving him in his jeans and boots. He walks over to the bed, admiring your tits and how your hands are clasped together in front of you, resting in your lap. You are a pretty picture, and he desperately wants to burn this image into his brain to use later when he is not in this room with you. “Tell me your safe word, darlin’ girl.” He orders, reaching out to grip your chin, bringing your gaze to his. Christ, you have such pretty eyes. You don’t respond and he grunts, gripping your chin a little tighter. “You can speak.” He tuts and you blink a couple of times before responding with, “my safe word is raspberry, sir.” Joel hums, pleased with your answer, and his hand lowers to grip your neck. Your neck is so delicate; he could easily snap it. Violence has entrapped his entire being, forcing him to do things he never imagined he could bring himself to do. He has survived for this long, hardened by this harsh reality, but here, in this room, he allows himself to release the monster inside of him. Discipline rules the real monster; if he allows it small moments of release, he can control it better. He squeezes your neck tighter, and a small moan bubbles up from your lips. Joel chuckles, “such a dirty girl, ain’t ya? You get yourself ready for me?” He asks, eager to get this show on the road, he has a shipment coming in tonight from Bill, and he has to be there. “Yes, sir, I prepped myself when I got your message that you were coming.” You answer, and Joel smirks, pleased to hear you got his message through the grapevine that has curled itself around the QZ now that his Nokia is a relic. “Get on your knees and show me.” He orders, and he lets go of your throat. You obey, quickly shifting on the bed to turn around and kneeling on your hands and knees, arching your back to display your ass to his hungry eyes. Joel bites his lip, dark eyes admiring your ass, and he grabs your ass cheeks, squeezing them and spreading them to reveal the plug you nestled into your puckered hole before he arrived. The metal winks under the dim lighting, and his cock stirs to life in his jeans. “Fuck, ain’t that a pretty sight?” He murmurs to himself.

One hand lets go of your cheek, and he pushes against the plug, enjoying how you whimper in response, back arching a little more. “Oh, you like that?” He asks, and you bite your lip, forcing yourself to remain quiet until he permits you. “Answer me.” He growls, wasting no time bringing his hand down to smack your ass cheek, hard and quick. Enough to make you gasp and blurt out your answer, “yes, sir. I- I love it.” He enjoys your answer, knowing he hasn’t even started. He grips the plug, twists it, and smirks when you moan softly. “You want me to fuck this little hole?” He questions, and you nod, “yes, sir. Fuck, I want that.” Joel smacks your other ass cheek, “you’re a dirty little whore, ain’t ya? Too bad I’m not ready yet. Want to get your little cunt dripping before I decide which hole I want. Maybe your mouth.” He raises his hand to push two fingers into your mouth, and you eagerly suck on the digits. Tasting his salty sweat and the lingering bitterness of gun residue that seems to be embedded into his skin. He withdraws his fingers, bringing his hand down to cup your dripping cunt, “or should I fuck your tight little pussy?” He hums, and you whimper when his fingers brush your clit. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “Or does my little slut want me to fuck her ass?” He murmurs, circling the puckered hole, barely nudging the plug, but it’s enough to make you whine softly. “I think I want all three.” He decides, making you nod eagerly. “Yes, sir, fuck me however you want. Wherever you want.” You tell him breathlessly, and he chuckles, “so fucking desperate.”

You are a little desperate. Despite the demeaning, harsh way Joel Miller can fuck, he’s not abusive. He doesn’t beat you while he fucks you. He doesn’t fuck you without prepping your holes for his thick cock. You are treated better than some in the club because you’re Joel’s favorite and the owner is scared of him, even more - the other members are scared of him. There’s even a rumor he beat a man to death in the club for abusing the girl he fucked before you showed up, buy he never talks about that with you. Instead of replying, you moan softly when his thick fingers slip down to your clit.

He groans when he feels how wet you are. This is his escape. The time he allows himself to access that deeper part of him he keeps controlled until the occasion calls for him to be in control. He has to behave in the QZ, not wanting to get kicked out, but that time is coming to an end. Him and Tess are working on getting enough credits together to leave the QZ so he can find Tommy. “Dripping for me. My little whore.” He coos, pushing two thick digits inside of you.

Your back arches and your moan again, the stretch of his finger a burn that you enjoy a lot more than you probably should. There’s something about Joel that you can’t resist, the gruff roughness is tempered by a sadness in his eyes that you want to soothe with kisses. Although you know that those same eyes go flat, hard and it excites you when you see the change. “Your whore.” You echo. “Sir.”

“That’s right.” His twang comes in, and your whimper makes his cock twitch, already hard from just the thought of you as he entered the club. “Such a good little slut, taking all that I give you. You want more thought don’t you? You’re a greedy girl. You want me to add another finger?” He asks as he does that, stretching you out for his cock.

“Yes sir, fuck.” You gasp out, eyes closing as your hole is stuffed full for the moment. You know that he will fill you even more. The thick cock that you had struggled to take when he first came to you is girthy and long, a combination that leaves you trying to walk on shaky legs when he’s done. “Want everything you want to give me.”

Joel groans, loving the way you completely submit to him. This is the only time he’s completely in control. He can control every aspect of this part of his life. He works his fingers deeper inside of you with a groan, “always so wet for me. What gets you wet like this sweetheart? Thinkin’ of Daddy’s cock?” He coos, slapping your ass with his free hand.

You shiver, not really caring for the Daddy term, but he obviously likes it. Fulfilling some fantasy of his as you whine at the sting of his hand. “Yes, sir.” You gasp out. “Always want Daddy’s cock.” You admit shamelessly. In here, you are exactly what Joel wants and needs and he rewards you so beautifully for it.

He likes that you indulge him every time he comes into this room. You have a safe word but you’ve never used it. He groans as your walls pulse around his fingers and he withdraws his digits, admiring the way your hole flutters at the sudden absence. “That’s it, baby. You’re gonna take what I give you and you’re gonna love it.” He promises, working on his belt to pull his cock out. “Want you to take my cock down your throat like only you do.” He groans, squeezing his cock as he pulls it out.

The good thing about Joel is that he regularly showers. He groans as he shuffles forward, your mouth obediently opening and your tongue out to wait for his cock. His hand pumps himself and then he guides the head to smear around your lips, teasing you with the length before he pushes into your mouth with a sharp snap of his hips, gagging you.

“That’s it, baby. Don’t choke. You gotta take it all. Be a good girl.” He demands, wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck to keep you still so he can rock his cock deep down your throat. You’re sputtering around him and he loves the way your split dribbles onto the sheets. “Being such a good little slut for daddy.” He coos, closing his eyes as he loses himself in this, in you.

His thrusts are harsh and you know you will have to drink some of the tea that is made from the dandelions and tree bark to soothe it. Your jaw will ache when he’s done and you will be so cock drunk you’ll beg for more. Moaning around him, your cunt clenches and you can feel yourself starting to drip.

“Shit. Always so fucking good. Taking it all like a goddamn champ. I don’t wanna cum down your throat tonight, my little cockslut.” He grabs the back of your neck to drag you off of his cock. “Wanna fuck your pussy. Then I’m gonna cum inside of your ass after I stretch it out with my fingers first.” He explains, slapping your cheek.

You love how he is going to wreck you. He’s so greedy when he comes to you, taking everything he can from you and still wanting more. “Yes sir.” You gasp, trying to catch your breath. “However you want to cum.” If he cums in your ass, you won’t make him wear the condom. He can fill you up.

Joel manhandles you to turn you around so he can grab your hips, kneeling on the bed to position himself behind you. He grips his cock and positions himself at your entrance, swiftly pushing inside of you with a low groan that echoes in the room.

“Shit, Joel.” You moan, loving how your entire body jolts forward from the force of his thrust. Your fingers dig into the sheets underneath you, grounding you in the moment.

He keeps your hips tilted up as you fall forward, trying to grind his cock impossibly deeper inside of you. It’s incredible how tight you are around him and it makes him clench his jaw so he doesn’t blow his load too damn too. “Fuck baby. Feel so fucking - like a goddamn vice. How you keep this pussy so tight when I’m fucking you more often?”

You choke out a moan. “Cumming.” You gasp, even though the truth is that you are tight because he’s so fucking thick. “You make me cum all the time.”

He chuckles, “wanna make sure you keep letting me use those tight little holes.” He says, smacking your ass with his palm. “Love being inside this pussy. Makes me forget about all - shit - all about how fucked the world is now.” He admits, pushing his hips against your ass and you cry out, making him smirk. “Take it all. Whatever I give you. Want you to take every fucking inch of this big dick. Tell me it’s big.”

“Fuck, it’s so big, sir.” Your eyes roll back when that big dick hits deep, just to show you what he can do. “Best cock I’ve ever had in my tight little pussy.” You confess. “Best cock ever.”

Your confession has him twitching inside of you, and he groans your name when he thrusts a little harder, making you gasp and fall forward until your cheek rests on the sheets. “That’s right. Best cock ever. Wanna - fuck - wanna live in this cunt. Never leave. Fill you up over and over again and watch it drip out. You’re - fuck- you’re so fucking tight.” He hisses, sliding his hand down to cup your breast and he slaps it.

You squeal, wanting to promise him the moon. Wanting to promise that he can have whatever he wants if he just fucks you. You know that Joel is different here than outside this room. Out there he wouldn’t even acknowledge you, probably. You’ve never had the guts to approach him when you’ve seen him walk through the streets of the zone. “Fuck, you can.” You promise him. “I’ll stay bent over so you can just fuck me whenever you want.”

“That’s right. You’re my little whore. Gonna keep you full of my cum. Just fuck you whenever I want. Make you scream my name so often, you lose your fuckin’ voice. Gonna make you mine. Claim this cunt as my own.” He growls, sliding his hand up to twist the plug you have nestled in your ass.

The low moan is wanton, needy. Loving the idea and wishing that could happen. You’re already his little whore, but you would be willing to let him fuck you hoarse. He sometimes does this anyway. “Fuck, I wish you would.”

“Gonna do it.” He promises in the moment, pushing deep to press against your cervix and he works the plug out of you. “I know you do. You want this dick all the fuckin’ time. Like the slut you are.” He spits on his fingers, pushing one then two into your ass, working your tight hole open for his cock. “Gonna make sure you only feel pleasure…unless you want some pain.”

“Spank me.” You gasp out. Knowing that Joel likes to spank you. Likes to feel the welts on your skin and know it’s from pleasure and not brutal pain. You’ve seen the busted knuckles, the broken hands. Those days are the ones he refuses to be rough. Almost scared of losing control but you know he never would hurt you. Not like that. He likes your screams to be hoarse with pleasure. “Please spank me, daddy.”

He can’t fucking deny you when you beg like that. He hisses, bringing his other hand down on your ass with a dark chuckle, his other hand scissoring his fingers inside of your ass to work you open. “Want you to cum like this.” He demands, “want you to cum for daddy like a good girl.”

It’s not hard to do when his cock pushes deep and punches against those spots that make your toes curl. Combined with the sweet sting of his hand and his fingers working your other hole opened, you are moaning as you work yourself closer. “I will, fuck, I will cum for you.” You promise, whining when he pushes a third finger in your ass. “Oh god, Joel.”

“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Don’t you fucking disappoint, Daddy. You’d better cum right this fucking second.” He demands and your cry of pleasure echoes off of the walls as you clamp down on his cock. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck, such a good little whore for me. You’ll do whatever I say, won’t you?” He growls, pulling out of your quivering cunt.

“Yes.” You gasp out, hating the loss of his cock and you whimper when he pulls his fingers out of your hole. “Whatever you want. Anything you want. Your whore. Use me, daddy. Please use me.” You babble, desperate to feel him inside you again.

He spreads your cheeks, leaning in to spit on your puckered hole then he spits in his palm and grips his cock, mixing his saliva with your cum as he notches himself at your ass to push inside of you. “Take it all.” He demands as he pushes into you.

Your back bows under the pressure from the pinch of pain. The lack of lube is a common issue but his spit helps. Thank god he had fingered you. “Joel!” You cry out, dropping down to your elbows and pushing back. Despite the pain, maybe because of it, you want more. You want to see him completely unhinged as you watch his reflection in the mirror.

He growls as you take all of him like the good slut you are. He clenches his jaw and smacks your ass, “you’re a good little whore. So cock hungry, aren’t you?” He mocks you, leaning in to kiss along your shoulder. He’s not allowed to bite you considering the situation outside the QZ.

"Yessss." You whine softly, gasping when his teeth scrape your skin. You would love for him to bite you, loved the idea of him marking you for a few days until the impression of his teeth faded, but he can't. "Hungry for your cock, only your cock, daddy." You feel him twitch inside you and moan at how it makes your walls of your cunt clench. "Your whore to use."

He growls, "yes. Yes. My whore. My little tight cunt." He hisses when you clench around him and he rocks into you, eyes rolling into the back of his head at how tight your muscles are gripping him.

You hiss when his hips start to snap forward a little harder, his cock drilling into you more aggressively. Every thrust a harsh punch and a low groan from the man behind you. Rocking you forward and you have to push back so he doesn’t push you into the creaking headboard. “T-tight little ass.” You moan out, wishing you could rub your clit. “Finger me.” You beg, “please, fuck I need something inside me.”

Joel hisses, “such a greedy little whore. Want Daddy’s fingers?” He asks and you nod your head pathetically, a whine escaping your lips. “Fucking needy.” He snorts and slides his hand down until he’s pushing two thick digits inside of you, feeling his cock push against the thin wall between your two holes. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you.” He promises and starts to move his hips again.

You groan quietly, loving how full you feel and if it were anyone else other than Joel, you would suggest another person. Joel is possessive while he’s inside you, he would never let another man touch what he considers his. You’re his, and he will do what he wants, even his fingers is an indulgence of your needs. “So good, baby, you take such good care of me.”

He groans, leaning forward to kiss along your neck, “only I can take care of you like this. Only me.” He says despite knowing you have other customers but he likes to imagine you sit and wait for him to show up and treat you like his precious little whore. “Tell me that only I take such good care of you.” He demands, scraping his teeth along your neck, pushing his limit.

You whimper, clenching down around his fingers and cock. “Only you, daddy.” You whine breathlessly. “Only you can take care of me like I need. Like I want. I’m your whore.” You promise, shivering at the scrape of his teeth and wanting more. “Joel…”

He won’t risk you by biting you, not knowing what shit he’s exposed to outside that he could bring back, even if it isn’t the fungus. He curls his fingers and rocks a little faster, “need you to cum for me, baby doll. Need you to soak my fingers then I’ll fill that tight little ass with my cum. Deal?” He asks, panting as his cock twitches inside of you.

“Deal, baby, fuck.” You pant out. Feeling his thrusts start to speed up, pounding himself in and out of your ass as his fingers curl into your cunt. “Joel, fuck baby, harder.” He loves when you want more, but you really do want him to go wild tonight.

How can he deny you when you beg him so sweetly? Everything goes blank in his mind except you. The outbreak. Survival. The things he’s done to stay alive. Even Sarah and her death seem to fade into the background as he pounds into your body, losing himself in the control and the pleasure. “Cum for me.” He grunts, barely hanging on as he twists his wrist to press his thumb to your clit.

Your nerves are alight with pleasure, the pressure built up inside you and curling in your stomach. The added sensation of your clit throws you over the edge and you start to come apart with a loud scream. Unable to contain it as your entire body responds to Joel’s manipulation.

He shudders behind you as you clamp down on his cock and he loves how you soak his fingers. “That’s it baby. That’s - that’s fucking it.” He growls and withdraws his fingers, slick digits gripping your hip as he grunts, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, lifting up onto his aching knees a little higher. “Shit. I’m gonna - gonna fill you up. Beg for it. Beg me for my cum.” He demands breathlessly.

Your eyes cross every time he fucks back into you. Practically lifting you up as he works himself impossibly deep. He’s not wearing a condom so when he cums, you will be dripping his seed. “Fill me up.” You gasp out desperately. “Please, I need- I need you to fill me up. I want to feel it.”

Joel groans, rocking into you again and again until finally, he stills. His hips digging into your ass, his belly that has developed in middle age rests against your skin as he pushes his cock deep. Twitching inside of you, he fills you with rope after rope of sticky cum, a low groan of your name escaping his lips as his fingers dig into your flesh.

This is the only way that Joel will cum inside you. This or your mouth and you love the hot feeling of his seed. Technically you should insist that he use it every time, but you know he’s clean and besides you, Tess is the only person he sleeps with. All your others always use condoms, but you have let Joel cum in your ass since the very beginning.

“Fuck baby.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss along your spine. He nudges your skin and groans as he slowly pulls out of you to watch his cum well up and drip out of your puckered hole. “That’s it, baby. Shit.” He says as he pushes his finger into you to push it back in, knowing you’ll have to deal with it later but he loves seeing it. Reminds him of younger days when he wasn’t worried about the lack of birth control and the death sentence that is pregnancy.

You close your eyes and smile, panting against the cool sheets. You are worn out and feeling the familiar ache that comes with having Joel in your room. “Was it good, daddy?” You coo softly, wanting to make sure that he doesn’t have something else in mind for you. After sessions with him, all you want to do is sleep.

He gently smacks your ass, “fucking perfect as always, sweetheart. Always take me so well. It’s why I always come back to you. Never judgin’ me for what I want.” He admits, shuffling off of the bed to tuck his cock away and grab the credits from his pocket to give you a little extra. He pays at the desk on the way out but he always likes to give you some extra to make sure you have enough.

“Why would I judge you since I want it too?” You ask, straightening up and reaching for the thin dressing gown that didn’t conceal much. You don’t protest the credits, knowing he will insist just like he does every time, but you smile. “When are you planning on leaving?” You ask softly. “I know it’s getting close.”

Joel sighs, rubbing his cheek, “we are close. I- I just need a few more credits and we gotta get the battery which is proving to be a fucking pain. We will get it soon. Then we will be leaving.” He says with a heavy sigh, knowing it won’t be easy to head out there to find Tommy.

You frown, knowing the extra credits Joel gives you are taking away from his goal. Moving over to the decorative box on your dresser. You open it up and remove the false bottom, revealing the stack of credits that you’ve amassed. Pulling out the notes, you turn back to Joel and hold them out. “Take these.” You insist, shoving them into his hand. “I know it’s driving you crazy to not know.”

Joel’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, trying to shove the notes back towards you. “I can’t take your money, baby. You’ve earned it. With every inch of your body. I can’t - I will figure shit out. I will. Keep it.” He urges, needing you to be cared for even if he isn’t the man who will ensure your safety and wellbeing.

“No, your brother is out there.” Even though Joel is normally focused on pleasure when he’s with you, things have slipped out over time. Worries spilling out and you know that he is going to continue to worry about him until he knows what’s become of Tommy Miller. “Don’t argue, you need to go find him.” You shake your head and send him a small smile. “I just- be careful, will you?” You ask. “And maybe come see me when you get back?” You know that when he leaves the Boston QZ, the chances are that you will never see him again, so it’s a hopeless request.

Joel nods, stepping closer to you, and he cups your cheek. You’ve been his solace in a world that would’ve crumbled him in its palm after Tommy left. He leans in softly to kiss you. A rare event but he likes to give you a little glimpse of who he used to be. To prove that he’s still there, inside him. Just as his lips touch yours, there’s an explosion and Joel is pulling his mouth away, yelling at you to get down just as he throws you down and covers your body with his.

The world around you explodes. Screaming out as Joel throws you to the ground, smoke, dust and debris rains down over the two of you as your ears start to ring. A bomb, you’ve seen enough of them to logically know that’s what’s happened but you can’t think, can’t move. Feeling like the world has slowed down to a crawl and the ringing inside your head deafens you.

Joel winces, his ears ringing, and he lifts his head to look around, body tense with adrenaline as his instincts kick into action. He checks for any nearby danger and helps you to your feet, lifting you up onto his shoulder when you don’t respond to him, appearing to be in a daze. Joel’s hearing clears a little and you blink as he carries you out of your room. Joel hears shouting and his heart is pounding as the smoke makes it hard to see and he tries to keep you safe while also preparing to fight. Fucking Fireflies is his guess.

You’re being carried. You slowly start to realize that as you come to. All of a sudden your hearing comes back and it no longer sounds like you’re underwater. Alarms blaring and there’s the sound of gunfire that makes you jump. “Joel!” You scream, trying to look over his head to see where he is taking you.

Joel doesn’t respond. Just carries you up the emergency exit stairs that the staff and those who are in the know use when they come and go. The street is chaos, FEDRA firing back at the Fireflies and Joel sets you down. “We need to move. Can you walk?” He asks, wishing he had his jacket to drape around you and you are barefoot but he needs to keep his hand free in case he needs to fight.

Pulling your robe closed around you, you nod. Turning back your eyes widen when you see that half the building is gone. Rubble piled up and you can hear the screams from inside. Joel calls your name and you look back at him. “We need to go.” He grabs your hand and drags you behind him, ducking down when some shots are fired too close for comfort with the ensuing battle.

“We need to leave. Now.” He demands and drags you down the street into an alley he knows. The streets are filthy out this way but he doesn’t give a fuck about your feet, he’s more concerned with saving your life. His heart pounds in his chest as he escorts you through the back alleys he knows like the back of his hand until he arrives at his apartment building.

Your body is shivering, a side effect of nearly being killed and your adrenaline is making your heart race. “Joel…” you cling to his hand, feet cut and bleeding and you know you are probably bruised. “Where- where are you taking me?”

Joel doesn't respond as he pulls you along up the stairs until he reaches his place. Grabbing the key, he unlocks the apartment and pushes inside, dragging you in behind him. He locks the door once you're in and turns to you, his dark eyes immediately scanning your face and making his gaze trail along your body in search of injuries. "You hurt?" He asks with a bite.

“I- I don’t think-“ you shake your head and frown as you do an internal check. “Just my feet.” You tell him, looking down at the dirty and bleeding appendages. Joel reaches out and cups your face gently, eyes staring into yours and you know he’s checking to make sure you don’t have a concussion. “What- it was a bomb, right?”

Joel nods, "yeah. Fuckin' Fireflies. Bombin' shit like it's gonna make a goddamn difference." He snorts and shifts to kneel, patting down your legs until he reaches your feet. "Sit." He orders, pulling out the chair behind you. He has a first aid kit - as basic as it is - that Tess uses on him when he gets into fights with assholes who like to try and test him. He stands up and grabs the kit plus the bottle of whiskey he got from Bill when he was last there. He kneels back down in front of you when you're seated and he grabs the bottle of whiskey, "drink this. Will help the shock."

Taking the bottle you pull the cork and take a sniff. “Shit, this is real.” You huff in amazement, taking a swig and nearly moaning over the taste. “Doesn’t burn nearly as bad as that bathtub bullshit.” You hum, enjoying the warmth as it spreads through your body.

He chuckles, opening the kit to grab the alcohol wipes Bill had given him one day when he heard Joel and Tess were using booze to clean their wounds. You hiss at the sting and he winces, “sorry, sweetheart. Gotta clean it up.” He says and carefully dabs the skin.

You watch him carefully, amazed at how gentle he is with you. He’s not a cruel man, but he’s never exactly nurturing. To see him care for you so gently is amazing. “You’re good at this.” You murmur. “Clean up a lot of wounds?”

Joel snorts, “more than you know. My own…Tess’s…Tommy’s, well, I used to - you know.” He clears his throat and grabs the bandages, working on wrapping your feet so they are clean. “You in pain?” He asks, looking up at you for a second.

“Yeah.” You admit with a careless shrug. “My club was bombed. Of course I hurt.” You snort. “Although…..you probably hurt more.”

Joel shakes his head, “I always hurt. Gettin’ too fuckin’ old.” He admits, his eyes flickering up to you and God, you’re so gorgeous even after barely escaping your club being bombed. “Have some more whiskey.” He orders, already thinking about how he can get you to Bill and Frank’s, get you somewhere secure and safe.

You take another drink and close your eyes. Starting to freak out. The club was your home, that room was where you lived. Now everything you own is gone and you have nothing and nowhere to go. You take another gulp of the alcohol and start to tremble slightly. Trying to assure yourself that you will be okay.

“Hey. Hey. Eyes on me.” Joel says, noticing your hands starting to shake. You look at him and he reaches up to cup your cheek, “it’ll be okay. I got somewhere you can go. You trust me?”

“I can’t stay here.” You know that he’s with Tess, or as with her as Joel can be. Everyone in the club wonders why she hasn’t come and kicked your ass, considering she was just as feared as he was. Or maybe she was feared because of him. Either way, they were a thing and you weren’t a part of that. “I have to- I have to go.”

Joel shakes his head, reaching for your hand to stop you from standing up. "You have nowhere to go. You have no clothes. No shoes. FEDRA will find you and lock you up for soliciting or sign you up for the program to get you into their grip. You can't go. Let me - let me take care of you." He pleads, needing to make sure you're okay.

“Tess-“ you gesture around the apartment; the bed that he obviously shares with her. “I can’t stay here. You know that. It’s not right.”

Joel sighs, "Tess and I- it's complicated. She - she never got over losing her kid and her husband and I never got over losing my - look, we know the darkest parts of each other and I - she has seen me at my worst but I don't...her and I - it's convenient." He explains, trying to tell you that he isn't in love with her. He cares for her but he doesn't feel the same way she does. Not sure he ever could, honestly.

You frown slightly, knowing that there is more than just convenience between them. You look around the small space, convinced this is a bad idea, but you don’t really have anywhere to go. All your credits are gone. Joel might have even dropped the ones you had been trying to give him. “I can’t just wear the robe.” You murmur quietly. “Not here. This is her house and it would be disrespectful.” You don’t know if Tess knows, but you feel like she does. Still, you don’t want to flaunt the fact you fuck Joel.

Joel shifts to stand up, groaning as his knees ache, his body still hurting from the intensity of the blast, but he moves to put the first aid kit away and find you some clothes. He grabs one of his shirts and some briefs to hand them to you. “I’ll go to my neighbor. She’s around the same size as you. She’ll give me an outfit. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” You nod, taking his clothes but deciding that you won’t put them on. Who knows when Tess will come back? The last thing you want is to have her come in with you wearing Joel’s clothes. Your entire body aches and you have to use the bathroom, Joel’s cum still crusted between your cheeks and leaking out of your body.

“Take a shower if you want. There’s enough water left. Not sure if it’s warm.” Joel says as he exits the door and makes his way down the hall to the young woman who lives with her boyfriend that he’s been working with. She looks to be about your size. They know him enough to know he wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t have to. The boyfriend opens the door, face set with suspicion like Joel knows his own would be. He nods and asks about some clothes and a pair of shoes. “This girl…she ain’t got a thing. Lost it all in the blast that just happened.” Joel explains and the girlfriend comes to the door, telling Joel she will be right back. She places some clothes in his arms, and he thanks her, making his way back to his apartment to let you get dressed.

The water is cold, but it feels good on your aching muscles. You are sore, much more than you would admit to Joel. You normally are after he comes to you and the blast just exacerbated it. Washing quickly so you don’t use too much water and stepping out to find that you look a little shocked and wary. Wrapping a threadbare towel around your body and stepping out into the apartment. “Joel?”

He closes the door behind him just as you step out of the bathroom. "I think these'll fit you." He says, walking over to you to hand you the pile of clothes he had procured from his neighbor's girlfriend. He notices how goddamn pretty you look fresh out of the shower but shoves that thought aside as he tries to figure out what to do next.

“Thank you.” You know that Joel doesn’t have to do anything for you. So for him to be helping you is sweet. “Why the fuck were the fireflies bombing the club?” You demand, dropping the towel to get dressed. It’s not like Joel hasn’t seen every inch of your body. “A lot of them go.”

Joel snorts, leaning against the doorframe and averting his eyes to the floorboards where his shit is hidden beneath. Just because he’s fucked you doesn’t allow him to be able to ogle your body freely when you aren’t together. “A lot of FEDRA officers go to the club. They don’t tell anyone, they blend in, but I notice them. They ain’t there to rat on anyone but they are there to enjoy the pleasures the rest of us indulge in illegally underground.”

“I know.” You snort, wondering if he’s embarrassed by your nudity outside your room. “One of them likes to brag that he gets his hydros from you.” You admit.

Joel snorts, “of course he is. They can never keep their fucking mouths shut.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Clothes fit?” He asks and you nod, adjusting the shirt. “I’ll give them some free shit when I get something good.” He says more to himself than to you.

You bite your lip and wish you didn’t feel like such a burden. You wonder how many of the others in the club got out, or if they were arrested. “I’ll find somewhere to go as soon as I can.” You tell him quietly. “I won't be long, I promise.”

Joel shakes his head. "You ain't staying in the QZ, baby. I got somewhere you can go. Me and Tess...we are gonna get the battery and then we are leaving here. I can take you to a friend. He and his husband are good friends, they have a secure compound. You'll be safe there." He promises, knowing he can't take you with him.

You want to protest, to tell Joel you don’t want to be pawned off on his friends, but you don’t argue with him. Just shrugging slightly and you wonder why he cares. “If you think that’s best.” You murmur.

Joel nods, “you hungry? I have some jerky and some cookies.” He says, walking into the kitchen to open the cupboard to grab the small amount of snacks he has. “You ain’t a vegetarian, are you?”

You snort. “Hard to be anything here.” You remind him. “Expensive enough to keep your belly full. But no, I’m not a vegetarian. You don’t have to wait on me though.” You don’t want to be a burden on him.

Joel shrugs, feeling that he’s not really taken care of you in the past when it’s come to him fucking you until you can barely move. He’s never considered after care when he’s paying you and you’re there to be his toy and now that he thinks about it, he feels guilty. He wants you to be comfortable.

You realize that he’s not a man of many words and you accept that. “If there’s something you need to do, don’t let me stop you.” You urge him. “Did you drop the credits?” You ask. “I don’t remember a lot after the blast besides you protecting me.” Biting your lip, you smile at him. “Thank you for that, by the way. You saved my life.”

He isn't usually a man to fluster but your praise makes his cheeks flush a little. "Uh, sure. We, uh, I shoved them in my pocket just before we got out of there." He says, pulling the notes out of his tatty jeans. Joel holds them out towards you, "these are yours."

You look at them and shake your head. “No, I gave them to you.” You remind him and when he opens his mouth to protest, you cut him off. “I won’t need them if I’m leaving the QZ.” You remind him. “Get whatever you need for the trip or extra food because you’re taking me.” You urge him.

He wants to argue with you but he doesn't. He takes the papers from you, knowing this will pay for the battery. "Don't worry, baby. I'll make sure you're safe." He promises, "Bill and Frank...well, you'll love Frank. Bill is a grumpy bastard."

“So he’s like you?” You ask teasingly, sending him a small smirk before you tilt your head curiously. “How did you meet them?” You ask, making Joel look a little embarrassed. “Tess was talking to Frank on the radio and we slipped out to see what they were like. If there was something there we could use. We set up trade with them. Smuggling shit.”

You nod and Joel shuffles awkwardly at the silence, reaching for the jerky and cookies along with the bottle of whiskey before he takes a seat on the sofa. “Yeah and if they get anything, Bill will send a signal through the radio.” Joel jerks his chin at the radio by the window. “80s ain’t good.” He says, “but I haven’t heard anything from them for the past week or so.”

“The 80s are bad.” You nod. “Besides making you feel old?” You tease and walk over to sit down beside him. “Hopefully you have that battery you’ve been talking about lined up?” You ask, taking the bottle and having a sip before handing it back to him. “What’s your plan?”

Joel sighs as he takes a sip from the bottle of whiskey. "Tess is meeting the asshole who has the battery to confirm we are getting it and we have the credits. Tess is out tonight and she - she should be coming over here." He frowns, glancing down at his broken watch and curses himself before he looks out of the window. "She can look after herself though."

“Oh, uh, I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” You tell Joel honestly. As much as you’ve enjoyed your time with Joel, you know that he’s not yours. You are just a toy to him, a sex toy to use and then forget exists until he needs to use you again. “If you��ve got someplace I can sleep, I’ll make sure I stay out of your way.”

Joel clicks his tongue, “like I said, me and Tess…it’s casual. We use each other. Besides, I wouldn’t want you anywhere else with this shit going down.” He says, his fingers twitching around the bottle. “You need to be safe.”

“It’s okay if it’s more than casual.” You tell him, reaching for the bottle again. “Really. I’m not judging.” You take another sip and look around. “I’m safe here? With you?” You ask, flirting with him slightly.

Joel snorts, “you’re safe from what’s outside. Safe from me? I don’t think anyone is. Not even me.” He confesses, glancing across the room to avoid your gaze. “You’re too good for the sins I’ve committed with these hands. Shouldn’t have even been allowed to touch you.”

“I like when you touch me.” You admit. “It’s not like I’ve never done horrible things. We all have.” You tell him. “It’s why we are still alive.” The things you’ve done are things others would look down on, before Outbreak, even now. You don’t care about that, you’re alive.

Joel doesn’t say anything. He just stares at the crooked floor boards. “I like touching you. A lot. It’s why I’ve always come back to you. I think about you, you know? When I don’t see you that day.” He admits, biting his lip as he struggles to get out anything emotional.

It’s almost physical, your reaction to his confession. Straightening up and feeling proud of yourself. Preening that Joel thinks about you when he’s not there. “I think about you too.” You admit. “Used to ask if you had sent word about coming.”

Joel's stomach twists and he turns to look at you. "I wanted to come more but shit keeps happening and the credits..." He trails off, frowning at the fact that he's spent quite a bit on having sex with you.

“I know.” You lean in, admiring the way his eyes are dark and seemingly boring into your soul. “But now, there’s no credits to exchange.” You point out. “When you want me again, take me.”

Joel knows that Tess could be back any second but he could never resist when you look at him like that. He swallows harshly and his dark eyes flick down to your lips, slowly leaning in to give you a chance to pull back but when you don't, he leans in to press his lips to yours.

This kiss is softer, sweeter than the kisses Joel had given you in the club. Raw and real, no agreement between you. Reaching up, you slide a hand around the back of his neck and move to straddle him. He’s still dusty and dirty from the blast, but you don’t care. You’re alive and so is he. That’s all that matters right now.

Joel sighs into the kiss, his hands trailing along your spine. He shouldn’t be soft. He shouldn’t allow emotions to seep into the hard shell he’s maintained with you but he needs to reassure himself that you’re alive and okay. He deepens the kiss, gripping your chin to tilt your head, and he slides his tongue into your mouth when you gasp.

Your eyes flutter closed and you melt against him. Rolling your hips slowly as the kiss deepens. Loving the closeness, the sweetness of the moment. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced with him. It’s almost like you are a new couple, slowly feeling each other out.

Joel knows he can’t fuck you. You must be sore from earlier and from the blast, and he’s filthy, but your body moving on top of him and your tongue tangling with his has him groaning into your mouth, his cock hardening beneath you.

You moan into his mouth, enjoying the way his body responds to you and even though you know that he’s not going to fuck you, your cunt is dripping. Enjoying the celebration that you are alive and so is he. Slowly, your fingers slide up into his hair and you tangle your fingers into the longer locks. He groans again when you grind down onto him, making him thrust up into you. His hands sliding down to squeeze your ass in the tatty jeans and he loves the way you whimper in response.

“I love your hands.” You groan, breaking off the kiss to run your lips down his jaw. “Strong, hard.” You murmur. “Deadly. I know what they could do, but you only make me feel good.”

His hands squeeze your ass again, “love your fucking body. Fucking love your ass and your pussy.” He grunts, unused to giving compliments and especially receiving them. You rock down onto him and he hisses in response, “that’s it. Take what you want, sweetheart.”

You moan at his praise, surprisingly mild considering some of the dirty talk he has given you over the years. It makes this even more sensual and intimate. “You’re so fucking good Joel.” You pant breathlessly. “So good. Dream about you touching me.”

He chuckles, “the fuckin’ dreams I’ve had about you. Wake up hard. Didn’t used to do that. Gettin’ too fuckin’ old to be waking up with a hard on.” He snorts, leaning in to kiss along your neck, resisting the urge again to bite down.

You whimper, closing your eyes and your hips drag over his hard cock. “Bite me, baby.” You beg softly. “Always wanted you to. Always wanted to have you mark me.”

He groans, nudging his nose against your ear as you rock down onto his hard cock like he’s a goddamn teenager. “I can’t. The fungus.” He grunts and you shake your head, “don’t care. I don’t care. Please.” You whimper and how can he ever deny you when you beg so sweetly. He licks along the salty skin of your neck before he sinks his teeth into your flesh to mark you as his.

It’s better than you imagined. Just shy of breaking the skin, you know that he is marking you. Hard enough that the imprint of his teeth will last. “Fuck, Joel.” You whine, rocking your hips faster as your clit throbs. “More, baby, fuck.”

He groans into your skin, and wanting you to cum on top of him. He hasn’t done this since he was a fucking teenage boy and he feels like he’s gonna cum in his pants too fast like one with his teeth in your skin. His fingers dig into your ass and he rocks you a little faster, wanting you to cum.

“Joel.” You whine, closing your eyes and rolling your hips frantically, chasing the friction against your clit. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pant out, shivering when his teeth dig into your skin harder and he squeezes you. Encouraging you to cum and you let go. Body exploding in pleasure as you reach your peak with a cry.

Joel groans into your skin, withdrawing his teeth to lick along the mark he caused, his body almost vibrating with possessiveness as you shake above him, orgasm rocking through you. He pulls back to look at your blissed out face and he hisses, fingers digging into your ass to keep you rocking on top of him. He's so fucking close. He leans in to bury his face in your chest, breathing you in as he rocks once more and grunts, spilling into his pants like a teenager.

You feel his cock throbbing, groaning quietly when you realize that he’s cum in his pants. It makes you feel powerful, that this man can cum just from you grinding into him. “Fuck, fuck.” You whisper, fingers slowly untangling from his hair and stroking it gently back into place. “We’re alive.” You murmur softly, feeling tired and euphoric at the same time. “Thank you, baby.”

He closes his eyes, suddenly exhausted, and for the first time in a long time it's not because of booze. He caresses your back, inhaling deeply to calm his racing heart. "Shit. I need a shower." He chuckles softly, knowing that he's filthy and now he's got cum all over him.

“Shower.” You murmur softly and shift off of him onto the sofa again. “Maybe you will be able to sleep afterwards.”

Joel nods, grimacing as he stands up. He doesn't have a lot of clothes and cum stains are a bitch to deal with. He sighs and waddles to the bathroom, making you giggle. He turns his head to look at you, a slight glare at you until he can't hold back the smirk, "fuckin' laughing at me." He grumbles but grins when his back is turned as he shuffles into the bathroom.

You giggle again, looking around the apartment, interested in seeing what Joel lives like. You only ever deal with him in the club so this is a nice insight. Moving over to the bed, you yawn, feeling tired and you lay down when you hear the water start running.

Joel comes out with a ratty towel wrapped around his waist, seeing you asleep and curled up in his bed making his stomach twist. He hasn’t cared about someone this much in so long. He doesn’t really know how to act. He grabs a clean pair of threadbare briefs, deciding to redress in case he has to get up quickly and slides into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around you with a soft sigh as he closes his eyes.

You hear the door open, the darkness outside the windows telling you it’s still the middle of the night. A small groan, and a hand slides around Joel, bumping your back. “What the fuck?” The question is whispered but you don’t say anything and Joel just grunts and his arm squeezes around the hand. Your eyes flutter closed, too tired to really worry about it, although you know that Tess just came home.

When the light filters through the shitty blinds, you hear voices in the kitchen and blink through the exhaustion, your body aching as you shift to sit up. “I can’t believe you brought the fucking prostitute back to the apartment.” Tess hisses and Joel growls, “don’t fucking call her that. She’s a good girl. She was just trying to survive like all of us.”

Anxiety swirls in your stomach and you know that it was a mistake to let Joel convince you to stay. Wincing as you stand, you shuffle around the small half wall and bite your lip. “I’ll go.” You tell Joel, shooting Tess, a surprisingly young looking blond with a black eye and cuts all over her face, an apologetic look. “I don’t want to cause problems. Joel- he saved my life. From a bombing.”

Tess stares at you and you realize there’s more between her and Joel than he let on. “Stay.” Joel insists and you shake your head, “I can’t.” He sighs and narrows his eyes at Tess. “You have nowhere to go. Stay here. We - we gotta go get the battery and then we will be back. Remember what I told you? About Bill’s?” He asks, ignoring the way Tess shakes her head.

“Look, I don’t want to cause issues, and obviously being here is doing just that.” You tell Joel. “I- I’ll be okay.” Joel shakes his head and looks towards Tess. “She’s the only reason we have the credits for the battery.” He growls. You shrug. “Doesn’t matter. I’m obviously not welcomed here and this is her space.”

Joel stares at Tess who sighs and turns to look at you. “Don’t go. Stay here. Joel clearly has a plan and there’s no changing his mind. Stay and we will get the battery then we will leave the QZ. Do you have any experience fighting or killing the infected?” Tess asks, crossing her arms.

You snort and shake your head, irritated at her idea that you are helpless. “I’ve survived this far.” You remind her. “And I’ve only been in the QZ for five years. I was pulling my own weight in whatever group I was in.”

Tess nods, looking at Joel again. “Fine. She can come. Just don’t be getting yourself killed. I don’t want to deal with a pissed off Joel.” She says as she pushes past you to grab her stuff to go and get the damn battery.

You look at Joel but he just shakes his head. Obviously no one is going to explain why Tess looks like she’s been worked over. “Stay here.” He tells you, handing you a bag. “Go through the apartment, take whatever you need.”

You nod and Joel sighs as he grabs his boots, getting ready to go shake down for the battery. He’s ready to fucking kill that bastard for putting his hands on Tess. When he’s ready, he stands up and walks over to you, his eyes pleading slightly, almost worried that you’re going to leave. “Don’t go. Let me figure this out. Get you somewhere safe.” He urges and when you nod, he stalks out of the door, shoulders set as he prepares to beat that asshole up.

Alone in the apartment, you sigh, looking around and deciding that you will pack up what you can. If they get the battery, then there is a good chance you will be leaving the QZ tonight. Not that you will miss it, but you wish you had a weapon. For now, you need to find some good shoes, not the worn sneakers you had been given by the neighbor. Opening the closet, you spy a pair of boots and smirk slightly. They are obviously Tess’s but they look like they will fit.

“I can’t believe you gave her my fucking clothes to wear.” Tess gripes and Joel snorts, “you wanted to come back and find her naked in the bed?” Tess rolls her eyes, “all those fucking credits you’ve paid her because I didn’t want you to fuck my ass.” Joel huffs, “can we not do this right now?” He asks as they enter the building to find the battery.

“Fine.” She goes to push open the secret door but finds that it’s blocked. “What the hell?” She huffs, banging on it again. “Do you smell that?”

Joel wrinkles his nose and tenses, gun ready as he pushes the door open with all his might. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses at the stench. Dead bodies. Men litter the floor, gunshot wounds in their bodies, and Joel glances around at the massacre. “Shit.” He grunts, back tense as he listens out for anyone hiding.

The next burst of movement, Tess watches as Joel grabs a girl and throws her to the ground, his gun pointed at her. “Point them at me!” A shout from down the hall catches her attention and she sees Marlene, leader of the Fireflies in Boston. “Not at her.” Tess scoffs. “Well if it isn’t the Che Guevara of Boston.” She snorts. “Looking a little worse for wear there.”

Joel keeps his gun pointed at the kid, unsure of if she is armed, and Tess sighs, “Joel.” She murmurs and his lip twitches as he shifts his gun towards Marlene.

“Asshole.” The kid hisses and it makes Tess smirk as she listens to the deal that Marlene makes. It’s a good one, especially since it would mean better equipment than what they could get themselves. Joel is on the fence, but she knows that he will do what she wants. “Think of your girlfriend.” Tess tells him. “The FEDRA vehicle will be nicer than what we’ve got.

Ellie lunges for the knife and Joel swings his gun back towards her as he steps on the weapon.

“Joel!” Marlene hisses, shaking her head. “Ellie, no.” She instructs the little girl. “You are all that matters. Joel will take you to my people, you go with him.”

Joel shakes his head, unable to believe the turn this has taken. “Get your shit, kid. We wait until it’s dark then we leave.” He orders, letting go of the girl and kicking her knife aside. He glares at Tess and stalks along the hall, heading back to the apartment.

When the key turns in the lock to the apartment, you stand up. Watching in amazement as a kid is shoved inside and the door pulled closed behind her. “Hey! Assholes!” The girl, probably around thirteen, doesn’t notice you as she bangs on the door for a few seconds, obviously upset at being shoved in here. You wonder what the hell is going on and if she is coming with you.

Joel hisses at Tess as she tells she will be back and he shakes his head, unlocking the door and Ellie tries to escape but he pushes her back in and locks the door behind him. “Sit down kid.” He orders, his eyes finding yours and he walks over to you. “She’s coming with us” is all he says.

“Oh.” Your eyes slide up and down his body, noticing that he had gotten soaked in the rain. “Everything go alright?” You ask anxiously, but Joel just shakes his head. “No.” He grunts. “But we will leave tonight.”

He dries off best he can without getting changed and he sits down on the sofa. Ellie sits by the window, looking between you and Joel. “So are you two like, a couple? Ohhh you’re a throuple.” She guesses, figuring Tess is with you and Joel. “Cool. Progressive.” She says with a nod.

“No, no, nothing like that.” You promise, feeling your cheeks heat up. “What’s your name?” You ask, and she smirks, aware that you are trying to change the subject. “Veronica.” She lies and Joel snorts. “Really? Marlene called you Ellie.” He challenges and she rolls her eyes. You grin at her attitude and introduce yourself.

Ellie huffs, “is he always this fucking grumpy?” She asks and you snort, nodding your head. “It’s kind of his thing.” Ellie looks at Joel and shrugs. Joel closes his eyes and Ellie frowns, “you tired already?” She asks and Joel crosses his arms, “gonna be a long wait until it’s dark, might as well get some sleep.”

Joel shifts to lay down on the sofa, so you move towards the end, but he frowns at you. Making you wonder what you’ve done wrong. He covers his eyes with his arm and Ellie scoffs. “You know your watch is broken?” Joel tenses, but doesn’t answer and you are curious about the watch, never remembering him taking it off before but you don’t know if it was broken. Too busy obeying him.

Joel doesn’t respond as he closes his eyes and listens to the rain hit the window and he listens to you and Ellie breathing, trying to act nonchalant but he’s tense and waiting for something to happen. “So…you guys been together a while?” Ellie asks you, ever curious.

“Oh, no, we aren’t together.” You don’t know how you would explain your relationship to this girl, but you know that it’s not being together. “He’s helping me.” You tell her with a small smile. “He’s a friend.”

Ellie nods, a little smirk on her face as she reaches up to draw a smiley face on the window in the condensation. “Sureeee.” She says softly, not believing you. Not with how Joel was around you compared to how he was around Tess. She’s observant and she noticed in seconds how he behaved around you.

You huff and bite your lip, looking over at Joel and wonder if he’s just ignoring the conversation or if he’s fallen asleep. He’s still frowning, so you think he’s awake but you can’t be sure. That unhappy look might just be the normal set to his face in such a harsh world. “Why are you sneaking out of the QZ?” You ask her, sure that she should be in the FEDRA school or at least with her parents.

Ellie doesn’t look at you as she stares out of the window, “I gotta go west. It’s - it’s complicated.” She says vaguely. Marlene had told her to never tell anyone about why she needed to get to Colorado. Joel is listening but doesn’t let on that he is. Marlene didn’t exactly tell him why she had to go west to the Fireflies. He doesn’t give a shit honestly. He just needs to find Tommy and make sure you’re somewhere safe.

“West is dangerous.” You tell her quietly. “Raiders and slavers.” You send the girl a pointed look. “If someone offers you help, for nothing, don’t trust them. At all. Kill them. They will do worse to you, if they get a chance.”

Ellie tries to not look like she’s scared. She puts on a brave front but she’s never left the QZ. She only dealt with the infected that fateful night in the mall. She is terrified but she’s tough, sitting up a little straighter and she tries to convincingly say to you “I can handle myself.”

You don’t disabuse her of the notion, but it’s obvious she’s not able to handle herself out there. Not without someone. “Stay close to Joel and listen to him.” You advise. “He’ll make sure you get where you’re going.”

Joel listens, withholding the scoff at Ellie’s bravado and his stomach twists at your trust in him. He hasn’t had anyone trust him like that since…since Sarah. He almost touches his broken watch, the memory of the moment his daughter died, but he maintains his act and listens to you and Ellie talk a little more until the sun starts to go down.

During the talk with Sarah, you had been rubbing Joel’s leg. Not that you even realized it, just absent mindedly caressing him as you chatted with the teenager. Until the doorknob turns and you snatch your hand away as Tess comes into the apartment. “It’s time.” She tells you, lifting a brow at your guilty expression.

Joel pretends to wake up, wincing as he sits up and that’s not put on. He’s getting achy when he sits in the same position for too long now. Fuck, he’s getting old. He grunts as he sits up, looking at you, then Ellie, then finally, Tess. “Get your shit. We leave in ten.” He says, “I’m gonna take a piss.” He announces and walks into the bathroom.

Tess looks at you and rolls her eyes. “Did you pack up enough of my shit?” She asks, narrowing her eyes when she sees the boots on your feet, but she doesn’t comment on those. “Yes, I did.” You snort, picking up the backpack you had filled with necessities and even the gun you had discovered under the floorboard.

Tess huffs as Joel comes out of the bathroom and he rubs his hands on his jeans. “Get your shit, kid. We are heading out.” He says, “don’t wanna be later. The guards will be changing shifts soon.” Joel explains, grabbing his jacket and his backpack that he keeps ready to go. He walks over to the floorboards and takes his weapons out, the credits he keeps hidden. He packs it up and Tess gets herself ready. Once the group is ready to go, Joel brings his finger to his lip. “Everyone keeps quiet. No one says a word.”

The jacket you had stolen from the closet is probably Tess’s but you wear it anyways. Keeping your head down, you keep close to Joel and the girl, Tess following behind you. Feeling nervous about the idea of going out into the wild again, you take a deep breath as they take you along alleys and pathways, down to a sewer entrance. “Really?” Ellie snorts and Joel rolls his eyes as he motions for you to go down. You grab the flashlight and lower yourself down, descending into the darkness.

Ellie hesitates but Joel pushes Ellie inside of the sewer and she reluctantly gets down, wrinkling her nose at the smell. “Gonna get a whole lot worse from here, kid.” Joel warns her and helps Tess in before he heads down and pulls the manhole cover back over.

You get down and start shining your flashlight up and down the sewer, grimacing to yourself. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to do something like this and you haven’t missed it. “Come on.” Joel grunts when he hops down from the ladder. “This way.”

He escorts the group through the tunnel, stopping when he hears a noise, his hand raised until he thinks it’s safe to keep walking. He guides the women to the end of the sewer, glancing out of the grates and he raises his finger to his lips again, telling everyone to be quiet as he takes a second to listen for anyone outside before he works on pushing the grate free so they can exit the sewer.

“Holy shit, I’m outside!” Ellie cries out and the three of you groan as Joel grabs her and yanks her down right as the spotlight rolls around. “Don’t get us caught!” You hiss, knowing the FEDRA agents won’t be happy to catch you outside the QZ. Too many people have been hung lately.

Joel mentally curses Marlene and he shushes the kid. "Keep your mouths shut." Joel hisses at everyone as he lifts his head and he steps forward to check for any guards. "This way." He growls, stepping quietly through the outer fences of the QZ, his gun aimed as his heart pounds in his chest, his ears listening for anyone nearby.

Your heart stops when you hear the FEDRA agent yell at all of you to freeze. Instantly complying because you know that it will be worse if you fight them. You hold up your hands and look at Joel and Tess.

"Get down on your knees." The FEDRA agent growls and Joel follows his order, his hands in the air, and he curses softly. When the test stings his neck, Joel hisses and the agent moves on to Tess. Joel tries to bargain, offering the agent some more pills but he isn't having it.

“Well what do we have here?” You know that voice, you hate that voice. This guy is in the club and he has a sadistic streak. He gets his rocks off on hurting others, sometimes you. Rarely though, since he knows Joel sees you. “Baby, you aren’t running away are you?” He coos, stroking your cheek and you jerk back from his touch. “We could have so much fun together.”

Joel clenches his jaw, so ready to kill this motherfucker for touching you. He hisses under his breath and the guard pulls your jacket down, leaning in towards your neck until he pulls back rapidly. “What the fuck? Someone bit you?” He gasps, “you’re fucking infected?” The guard asks, grabbing the back of your neck to drag you to your feet. Joel doesn’t even take a second to react. Spinning around, he grabs the asshole to drag him to the ground and starts to hit. His fists striking his head over and over. The blood splattering over Joel’s face as he loses himself to the haze of violence that he’s learned to lean into for his survival since the outbreak. His vision goes dark as he focuses on hitting the guard, his only goal to keep you and Ellie and Tess safe.

“Joel!” Tess snaps, your eyes wide and fixed on the sight in front of you. Joel beating the man to death, his body limp and lifeless and you know that Joel isn’t going to let you be hurt. He’s going to protect you at all costs. You walk over to him and when he pulls back for another hit, you touch his shoulder.

Joel flinches as you touch his shoulder, the urge to lash out almost overwhelming him until the haze clears and he looks up at you. His knuckles torn up as he looks down at the lifeless body beneath him, blood and brain matter scattered across the ground. He stands up on shaking legs, wiping his hands on the guys jacket. “We need to go. Now.” He grunts, his voice rough with the lust for violence. Ellie stares, almost fascinated and enjoying the sight until Tess taps her and she shrugs her backpack as she waits for Joel to lead.

You aren’t afraid of him, that’s not what this is. It’s almost a fascination. You’ve only ever seen Joel in control. Control of you, control of the scene, of what happens. The violence tempered, but now you wonder what it would be like for him to touch you when he’s like this. Would it be as sweet or would it sting?

Joel is shaking slightly as he flings his shotgun over his shoulder, continuing to guide the group away from the QZ. Another life he’s taken. Another life that darkens his soul. He doesn’t think about it too long, won’t allow himself the distraction as he keeps his eyes and ears open to hear of any other threats.

You follow behind him, watching closely as he tries to compose himself, knowing that he might need a few minutes to himself. Tess noticed, the girl has also been bit, but it wasn’t by Joel. The scanner had shown red and she’s infected, although she had promised that she wasn’t and that she could explain. You don’t even know if Joel registers that right now.

****

Joel’s eyes widen when Tess shows him the bite, rearing back, he shakes his head. The guilt floods through him, knowing he didn’t protect her, didn’t love her like she wanted him to. He’s wasted her life and she could’ve been with someone who could give all of them to her. “I- no.” He shakes his head, refusing to accept that she’s going to die. That she’s sacrificing herself for the rest of the group.

Tess smiles, the curve of her lips bittersweet and her eyes flicker towards you and then back to Joel. “If you cared about me at all, just a little. Just a fraction of what I felt for you, listen to me.” She begs him. “That girl is important. To everyone.” She understands now how important Ellie can be to humanity, to winning this horrible war with the infected. “Get her to Bill and Frank, they will know what to do with her.” She promises. “They can get her out west. Joel-“ she doesn’t reach for him, but she wants to. “Stop denying yourself what you want.” Swallowing harshly, she looks back at you. “Take care of her, and she’ll take care of you. You love her, even if you won’t admit it and she looks at you like you’ve hung the moon.” She snorts. “And she lets you put it in her ass. Don’t waste more time. You might not have much of it left, old man.”

Joel would usually chuckle at Tess’s frankness but right now, he’s devastated that he’s losing his closest friend, his partner. He nods, eyes hardening as the mission becomes clear again and he grabs Ellie who screams, “let me go, you fucker” as she resists leaving Tess. He grabs your arm too as he passes you, dragging both of you out of the capital building and into the forest where you can hide from the infected. The explosion shakes the ground and Joel pushes both women down, covering you and Ellie with his body.

Your eyes close and you start to silently cry, hating that Tess has sacrificed herself for the three of you. You know that she was infected, that she would have turned, but it’s still a loss. Joel cared about her, he had to have after spending so much time with her. Comfortable or not, she meant something to him. Joel pops up, gun in his hand to watch if any infected come out of the now burning building.

“Let’s go.” Joel orders when he feels the infected aren’t rushing towards you. He walks a little faster, pushing you and Ellie to move in front of him just so he can still cover you both. He’s quiet when you get into the forest, replaying Tess’s words over and over again. His eyes shifting over to you. Does he love you? Had Tess seen something before he even saw it himself. You turn to look at him, eyes bloodshot with shed tears and yet you muster a smile for him. His chest tightens and he swallows harshly, not returning the smile as his thoughts are chaos.

The walk is quiet, glum until you reach a stream. It’s a good place to rest for a moment. Joel needs it, he needs a moment to process. You herd Ellie off towards a tree and sit her down. “I’ll go get some water.” You offer, taking her canteen and Joel’s and moving down to the water's edge.

Joel shakes his head, tears stinging in his eyes as he crouches beside the edge of the river. He sighs and grabs a stone, admiring the smooth surface and he decides to find more, stacking them up in a small memorial to Tess, one stone for each year he knew her. He isn't a praying man but he says a silent eulogy to her, wishing her soul peace after fighting so long. He hopes she is reunited with her son and husband. He sighs, wiping his hands on his jeans as he makes his way back to you and Ellie.

It’s tense, and when Ellie speaks, Joel snaps at her. You know that she’s afraid that Joel is going to blame her, that if it were for her, that this wouldn’t have happened. She’s wrong. “We are all at risk out here.” You remind them both. “Best thing we can do is honor Tess’s wishes and get you where you need to go.” You don’t mention the other part, not able to put it into words. “Right?”

Joel nods, “yeah. We need to keep moving.” Joel says, striding ahead, hands clasped around his rifle. He’s mourning Tess but he has a duty to you and Ellie. He needs to get you somewhere safe and needs to get Ellie west. Then he can find Tommy. He doesn’t say another word as the sun climbs higher in the sky, the journey to Bill and Frank’s is carved in his mind so he can let his mind wander slightly to Tess’s words about you. Does he love you? It’s been so long since he even knew what love felt like. He’s built an impenetrable wall around his heart and he doesn’t know how to let anyone in.

Ellie starts to talk. Joel sometimes answers, but pretty often, he’s locked inside his own mind so you chatter with the younger girl. Telling her about your own experiences after outbreak and what happened, why you’re so watchful as the three of you walk along the road. You’re cutting close to an embankment and Joel urges you away, but Ellie is curious. Making you shove down the unease since you are sure you know what he’s trying to steer you away from.

Joel tells Ellie to stay away, wanting to protect her from the horror that lies in the embankment. He pushes her along and Ellie is curious as ever so he explains briefly what happened before she keeps asking him a million questions. His eyes drift over to you, wondering if you ever saw anything happen like that before you found the QZ.

You shiver slightly, looking at the bodies and you close your eyes. Not a particularly religious person, but you say a prayer for those poor people in the ditch. “Fuckers.” You mutter to yourself. “Hopefully all of them got infected.”

You walk for hours, the sun beating down on your face as you walk along the dirt road, once used by hundreds of cars a day. Joel glances up as the sun is starting to set and he doesn't like being out in the dark. He searches the forest for a safe spot, something with a little height and there's a river nearby. "We stop here." He says, stepping into the forest so you are covered by the bushes and the growth.

You follow him quietly, kneeling down and opening your bag. You had packed up most of the food in the apartment, determining they weren’t coming back to Boston and it would be needed. Opening a bag, you toss it to Ellie and then hand one to Joel. “How is your hand?” You ask quietly.

He flexes his fingers, glad he soaked the blood off in the river but it will take a while for the skin to heal. “It’s fine.” He grunts, taking a sip of the water he got from the river earlier. He watches Ellie practically inhale her food and he sees you hesitate. “Eat.” He orders, not wanting you to get ill or make a stupid mistake before you get to Bill’s.

“Yes sir.” You quietly murmur, smirking at the slight use of his preferred name in the club. You open up the bag and take out some of the jerky before taking a sip of your canteen. Joel shoots you a look, but he doesn’t say anything, making you bite your lip.

Joel is pleased to see you eating and he hates how his cock twitches when you call him ‘sir.’ Always sounds so fucking cute coming from your lips. He clears his throat and opens his pack, chewing on the jerky as he watches you from across the clearing. He will set up a fire if the coast remains clear. If he hears anything at all, he won’t risk it.

You finish up and pack away the rest of the food and wipe your hands on your jeans. “You have a sleeping bag? Or a blanket?” You ask Ellie.

Ellie shakes her head, “no. I don’t.” Joel sighs, grabbing his pack. “You can use mine. I ain’t gonna sleep. Gonna keep watch.” He says and hands Ellie the rolled up sleeping bag. “Here you go, kid.” He says and looks over at you, “you have one.” He tells you, reminding you of Tess’s sleeping bag you got from her when she handed you her pack.

“Yeah.” You frown slightly, feeling a little morbid about sleeping in a dead woman’s bag, but it’s not like you haven’t done that before. Everything everyone owns came from someone who died. It wasn’t like they are making a lot of new shit.

Ellie doesn’t take long to settle down in the sleeping bag, going to sleep like someone who has nothing to stay awake worrying about. No regrets. No losses. She’s innocent and her ease of sleep reminds Joel of how much he’s lost of himself over the years.

“I wouldn’t start a fire this close to the city.” You murmur softly, still awake and watching Joel as he scans the area. “Not unless you need it. Too many wander around here, looking for easy targets.”

Joel’s eyes meet yours again. Fuck, you’re so pretty. He nods, “I wasn’t planning on it. It’s not too cold. And it’s better to keep undercover. You okay? You cold?” He asks, knowing he’ll offer you his jacket if you need it.

“No. I’m warm enough.” You promise, letting the silence fall between the two of you for another minute. “I’m sorry about Tess, Joel.” You whisper. “So goddamn sorry.”

Joel stares at the ground, unsure of how to respond when he is the one who got Tess caught in that situation. He should’ve paid more attention. He should’ve done something to save her. He shakes his head, “it’s over now. She’s at peace.” He murmurs, hoping that when the day comes that he dies - either killed or bitten - that he will meet Sarah again.

You don’t speak again, settling down and closing your eyes. You wish Joel would crawl into the sleeping bag with you, but you know he won’t. Instead you try to get what little sleep you can, your gun under your leg, right in finger’s reach.

Joel sits there, listening to the noises of the woods. Nature has crept back into places that humans drove them from. Boston was once a bustling city and now it’s a sanctuary for the infected and the animals that have braved the derelict city now that the humans have almost disappeared. He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on Tess’s death. She sacrificed herself when she was going to die anyway. Joel knows he should be devastated but she was his comfort, his partner. She wasn’t the woman he was in love with. He imagines if it was you in Tess’s place and his heart clenches at the thought, almost in pain at the mere thought.

When you wake up, it’s not even sunrise yet, but it’s surprising you had slept through the night. It’s not something you’ve done in a long time. Sitting up, you immediately look for Joel and frown when you don’t see him. “Shit.” You hiss, reaching for the gun. “Joel?” You whisper softly.

He’d gone for a piss when you wake up and he hears you whisper his name. “I’m right here, baby.” He says softly, not wanting to wake Ellie before he has to. He kneels down beside you, “you doing okay?”

“Yeah.” You’re relieved that he’s there and you reach up to touch him. “Just wanted to- I didn’t see you.” You admit sheepishly. “Freaked me out for a minute.”

He nods, understanding how you feel and he wishes he could show you more emotion. He reaches for your hand, squeezing it, and he offers you a tiny smile. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Gonna get you somewhere safe.” He promises, “we ain’t too far from Bill’s. We will get there before it’s dark.”

You nod, wishing that you could ask him why he was so willing to leave you behind, but you’re chicken. Tess was wrong, he doesn’t care about you. Not like that. He feels beholden to you. “I trust you, Joel.” You admit softly. “Have from the very beginning.”

He doesn’t deserve your trust. Too many people have died that he was supposed to protect. He lets go of your hand and decides to wake Ellie up, wanting to get to Bill’s sooner rather than later. “Come on, kid. Time to get up.” He says a little louder, smirking slightly at her groan of protest. Typical teenager.

It doesn’t take long to get cleaned up, you go with Ellie to the stream to wash your face and rinse out your mouths. Rolling up the sleeping bags and shoving it back into your packs before starting back out onto the road. “Need to find some pads or tampons.” You tell Joel.

Joel nods, feeling a little awkward but glad that you’re here to help Ellie if she needs that shit. If you need it, well, he’s just relieved that you aren’t pregnant. That would be a complication beyond anything else right now. “Bill probably has some in his place. Keeps all kinds of shit.” He says, keeping his eyes on the road ahead and his ears listening for anything or anyone.

You and Ellie talk, the younger girl full of questions and it’s only a few hours later that you are walking to the edge of a gated community. “Bill and Frank have their own town?” You ask in amazement.

Joel doesn't respond with anything other than a nod as he enters the code to open the gate. Noticing immediately the decline of the house, the flowers aren't watered and his heart sinks.

You frown slightly, not seeing anyone. You had expected someone to greet you. Either with a welcoming smile, or a shotgun. Who knows how Joel’s friends act. You stay close to Ellie, trailing behind Joel as he makes his way to one house and opens the door.

His chest tightens at the lack of activity around the house. Normally Frank would already be coming up to Joel, asking him what he wants to eat and Bill would be grumbling about limited resources but there’s no one around and they don’t go out anywhere. Joel sets his pack down, making his way into the house to see the flies picking at the leftovers of a meal that looks rotten and he knows. His eyes sting with tears again but he inhales sharply and shoves down the emotions. He’s lost too many people. “They - they ain’t - they are gone.” Joel announces, “let’s shower. Get some food from their pantry.” He says, knowing he can look at Bill’s truck to see if it’s working.

“Okay.” You frown slightly, looking at the air of abandonment around the house and you know that they just didn’t leave. You bite your lips, feeling bad for Joel and you follow him upstairs. “I’m eating!” Ellie cries, hungry after the walk.

Joel nods, “you wanna shower?” He asks you, knowing you must want to after walking so far. You nod and he tells you where to go. “House is safe.” He promises, “the entire place is secure.” Joel sees the letter on the table but he can’t open it yet. He closes his eyes for a second before he sees you exit the room.

You wait, hesitant and respectful. Honestly waiting for someone to pop out, but you don’t get that. Doors are open and it’s obvious that the house was taken care of, despite the thick layer of dust that is now coating everything. “Come on.” You jump when you hear Joel, finding him watching you with sad eyes. “They have hot water.”

He guides you up the stairs to the bathroom. “I’m sorry.” It seems like that’s all you’ve been saying to him lately and you reach out to start unbuttoning his shirt. You assume that he wants to shower with you. Maybe fuck you, and you’re completely fine with that.

He wants you to shower with him and he is tired of pretending that he doesn’t want you. He was going to leave you here safe and sound with Bill and Frankie and now you’re gonna have to come with him and Ellie across the country. He’s terrified for something to happen to you out there.

You strip his shirt off and pull your own over your head. The jackets and packs left downstairs. Now it’s just the two of you. Reaching behind you, you unclip your bra and drag it down your arms. “A nice hot shower is exactly what you need.”

Joel nods, toeing off his boots and he kneels down to take yours off, tossing them down and helping you take off your socks. He slides his hands up your legs to unbutton your jeans and drag them down your legs along with your panties. "You're so fuckin' beautiful." He murmurs, his stomach twisting as he looks up at you.

“Joel…..” your heart pounds at the way he is looking at you, wishing that you had the courage to tell him how you feel. “How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

"Shower, baby. Let's get under the hot water. Who knows when we will get another shower." He says, groaning as he stands up, unbuckling his jeans to push them down and his cock is half hard as his briefs hit the floor. "Get in." He orders, "make sure it's not too hot."

You groan when the hot water hits your skin. “It’s perfect.” You moan quietly, enjoying the heat. You always loved hot showers but they were expensive and you rarely indulged in them at the club. Turning around, you watch him step into the shower.

He steps in behind you and reaches out to pull you into his chest, his head resting on yours as he wraps his arms around you. The water covers your bodies and he closes his eyes, relishing in the feel of your skin against his, knowing you’re alive and safe with him. He doesn’t need to say a word, you understand him more than he knows and you wrap your arms around his waist. Joel doesn’t know how long he stands there until he pulls his head back and surges forward to press his lips to yours, wanting to feel more of you.

If it surprises you that he kisses you, you don’t show it. Just immediately opening up and moaning into his mouth as his tongue wipes against yours. You need this, you crave feeling close to him. Scared and unsure of what would happen next. Your hands slide up his back and tangle into his now wet hair.

He spins you around, pushing you up against the cool tile as the water hits his back and his hand slides up from your waist to squeeze your breast, loving the way you moan into his mouth and he cups your cheek with his free hand, keeping your lips on his while he pinches your nipple.

“Joel!” You gasp out, cunt clenching and you are already dripping. Your fingers tighten into his hair and you pull slightly, loving how he hisses into your mouth. You can feel him grow harder against your hip and you rock against it.

He groans and kisses along your jaw, his hand sliding lower until he’s cupping your cunt, loving how wet you are already and he’s barely touched you. He slides his fingers through your folds until he’s rubbing your clit, wanting to hear you moan his name again.

You whimper, closing your eyes and leaning back against the shower stall as he rubs your clit. “Fuck.” You pant out. “You’re so good at this, fuck you always know how to touch me.”

He watches you as he rubs your clit, loving the way your mouth falls open and he slides his hand back until he can push two fingers into you, wanting to make sure you’re ready for him. “Tell me you’re mine.” He murmurs, wanting to hear it from your lips.

“Oh god.” Your eyes roll back. “I’m yours baby, fuck, I’m yours. I’m always yours.” You promise breathlessly. “All yours.” Shuddering, your walls clench down around his fingers and you bite your lip.

He loves and hates hearing you say that. Knowing that he doesn’t deserve you. The things he’s done…he doesn’t deserve to touch you like this, to have you like this. He works his fingers a little faster, twisting his wrist so he can press his thumb to your clit. “That’s right, baby. Mine. Gonna - gonna keep you safe.” He promises, leaning in to bite along your jaw.

You whimper his name quietly. “Gonna keep you safe too.” You moan, knowing that you will do whatever necessary to watch his back and keep him with you. Obviously you can’t stay here by yourself, so you’re pretty sure he’s bringing you with him out west. “Give you comfort. A place to lose yourself.”

Joel nods, his cock hard against your hip as he pushes against you, seeking friction. “So good to me, baby. Can I fuck you?” He asks, wanting to make sure. He’s not in the club anymore. This isn’t an environment with already agreed consent. You need to tell him if you want him inside of you.

“Please.” You beg, needing the closeness, the familiarity of him. Needing the release of his control over your body. “You can always fuck me. Anytime, anyway you need, daddy.” You whisper the word and give him a moderately innocent look.

His groan echoes against the tiles as he looks into your eyes, seeing the devotion and it spurs him on. “Joel. Call me Joel, baby. We ain’t in the club. I’m gonna take real good care of you.” He promises, curling his fingers inside of you.

“Joel.” Your moan of his name echoes in the shower. Seemingly louder than normal even though you’ve screamed his name before. Your hips lurch forward when he pulls his fingers back, craving them inside you. Loving how he stretches you out.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me. You gonna cum on my fingers like you’ve done before? Always so good for me.” He murmurs, pressing his thumb against your clit a little harder. “Cum for me, baby.” He demands quietly, yet his voice is like steel.

Your legs are shaking, The fact that you are pinned to the wall with his body is the only reason that you are still standing. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” You cry out, feeling the tension curling even tighter in your stomach until it snaps. “Jooooooeeeeellllll!” You wail his name, feeling the white hot pleasure race down your spin.

He loves the way you wail his name, thighs trapping his hand as he tries to work you through your orgasm, loving the way you shake and clench around his digits. “That’s it. That’s it. Jesus, you get so goddamn tight.” He hisses, pre-cum smearing on the skin of your hip.

You pant, not even able to respond because you are so breathless. No one has ever made you feel as good as Joel has. “Just for you, baby.” You manage after a few moments, moaning when he finally slips his fingers out of you. “Fuck me.” You beg. “Pussy, ass, whatever you want. I just need you inside me.”

He wants to make you cum around him. Pushing you back against the tiles, he grabs your leg and rests your foot on the edge of the bench that is kept in the shower, spreading your legs for him. He grips his cock and slides the head through your folds until he notches himself at your entrance and starts to slowly push into you with a low groan of your name.

It’s so slow it brings tears to your eyes. Feeling him slowly fill you up. Chasing away the emptiness inside you. It’s exquisite and all you can do is moan his name like it’s the only word you know.

He can’t say anything. Not wanting to be dominant over you, he only wants to touch you right now. Assure him that you’re alive and that you are here with him. He groans as he rocks into you.

Joel is so different this time. There’s no harsh demanding thrusts, the pace makes you ache like you never have before. Feeling every ridge of the length slowly pulling out and then rocking back into you. It’s enough that you wish you could stay locked in this moment forever.

His hands trail over your body, his hand squeezing your tit and he leans in to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth with an intensity that should terrify him. His fingers pinch your nipple and he wants you to cum for him.

You let Joel set the mood. Following him where he wants to lead you and moaning every time he bottoms out inside your cunt. “Joel.” You pant softly. “Please- I- fuck, I love this.”

He cups your cheek, bringing your eyes to his. “I love you.” He murmurs, knowing that he should be struggling with saying those words to you but it’s true. You’ve seen the darkest parts of him and you still want him. He loses himself when he’s with you in the best way possible.

You sigh in relief, so scared of saying those words. “I love you too.” You promise. “I love you, only you. Always you since the first time I met you.”

He murmurs your name, loving how you confess your feelings. He already knew but to hear it has his chest tightening. “Fuck, I- I want you to cum for me.” He pleads gruffly, his hand sliding down to rub your clit as he pushes his cock deep inside of you.

“Joel, baby.” You whimper his name again. Your eyes flutter closed and your hips chase the friction against your clit. You’re so close, chest heaving and you feel yourself come apart with a loud cry of pleasure while stars burst behind your eyes.

He grunts as your walls flutter around his cock, gripping him, and he hisses as your nails dig into the back of his neck, making him twitch inside of you as he tries to work you through your orgasm. “That’s it baby. Fuck. I- gotta pull out.” He murmurs, knowing he can’t get you pregnant. It’s a deathwish. You hate that he has to pull out, wishing you had that condom. When he rocks his hips back, you wrap your fingers around his cock and start to pump. “Cum for me, baby.” You beg, leaning in and pressing your lips to his jaw. “Cum for me, my love.”

Joel hisses at your touch and your words, his cock twitching in your hand, and he grunts, turning his head to press his lips to yours as he starts to cum, spurting over your lower stomach and hand as he paints your skin with hot seed.

“That’s it, baby.” You murmur softly, stroking him through his orgasm until he’s just pulsing in your hand. “Fuck, you look so good like that. I love you.”

He pants against your lips, kissing you softly as you work him through it until he's starting to soften in your hands. "I fuckin' love you. Gonna keep you safe." He promises, knowing he'd risk his life to keep you safe. He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he cups your cheeks, silently praying he can keep his vow.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou

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wososcripts · 16 days

Text

Face to Face (V)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader; Barça x reader (platonic)

Summary: Frido has to confront that she could lose you forever. Will she act?

Warnings: some mildly suggestive content but that's about it

A/N: the final part!! let me know if you guys want a short epilogue or something :) thank you for sticking with this little series I hope you enjoyed it! as usual everything I write is fiction and does not reflect players' real lives

Word Count: 2.9k

PREVIOUS PART

You suspected that Alexia was planning something to make you feel better. You had cried through the night, and although she hadn't come to check on you, her face when you saw her the next morning let you know she was worried. She silently slipped you breakfast and gave you a hug, still not fully aware of the issue but willing to be there for you nevertheless.

You were in better spirits for practice that day. Mostly you were just happy to be cleared for play. Jona was still being careful with you, but the med team green lit your participation on Friday. That meant you had been practicing a lot with Patri when you could, wanting to be in good form. She was taking it easy on you, you knew, but it still helped to get you back into the swing of things. Plus, it was difficult to be depressed with Patri around. She kept you laughing constantly with her stupid jokes and teased you just the right amount to make it feel like your problems weren't insurmountable.

At break you spotted Alexia and Mapí chatting quietly, glancing over at you now and then. After a few minutes you excused yourself from your conversation with Salma and went over to investigate.

"Hola Mapí, Ale," you smiled, knocking lightly into Mapí's shoulder. "What are you two up to?"

Mapí grinned at you, but said nothing. You could tell whatever she was hiding had her pleased with herself.

"Are you free Friday after our match with Athletico?" Alexia asked.

You nodded.

"I don't have any plans."

"Keep it that way." Mapí replied, winking at you.

You rolled your eyes good naturedly and smiled back.

"I don't even want to know…" You muttered.

You had kept your promise and left the evening after the Athletico match free. Ana Maria had come over for dinner, seemingly in on the plan Alexia and Mapí had cooked up. You brushed it aside, however, because you missed the Swiss national like crazy. Just getting to talk with her for a night made you realize how much you benefitted from talking to her about anything. She had some of the best advice of anyone you had ever met.

At around ten Alexia arrived at your door, ready to pick the two of you up. She praised your outfit as you stepped out of the apartment, causing you to blush bright red.

The club Alexia took you to wasn’t one you had ever been to before. It was fairly small, but clearly popular as there was a line to get in.

“We don’t have to wait,” Alexia said to you, waving to the bouncer as he let you all through, “The other girls are waiting for us inside.”

The inside of the club was stylish, you had to admit. It was somewhere between an 80s dive and a modern dance club. Disco blared from the speakers, and the entire place was drowning in purple light.

It didn’t take long for you to find your way to the dance floor after saying your hellos and accepting the drinks Mapí pushed at you.

At first Patri had accompanied you to the floor, the two of you laughing and fooling around to a few songs until she was called back to the table. You could take care of yourself.

Not ten minutes after Patri left you found yourself dancing with a woman whose eye you had caught a couple of times. She was beautiful, that much was obvious, and you didn’t mind in the slightest when she slid behind you and began to match your movements.

You felt the woman's hands on your hips as she held you close to her front. The two of you moved fluidly together. She smelled citrusy, her hair was long and dark, and her accent suggested Italian. Either way, you were interested.

She seemed interested in you too, if her eyes were any indication. Her hands gripped your ass firmly as she turned you around in your embrace. She was taller than you, so you had to lean up to capture her lips in a kiss. You vaguely heard someone cheer in the background but decided to ignore it.

"Your friends seem to approve," the woman said close to your ear.

You laughed.

"Well, I know how to pick them," you flirted back.

You were having a great time, honestly. It was refreshing to be out and a little drunk and not worry about any of your shit. It could wait until tomorrow.

The woman pulled you back into another kiss, letting her hands roam across your back and into your hair. She tasted of alcohol and something sweet, maybe watermelon or cantaloupe. You made your mind up then that if she asked, you would go home with her.

"I'm gonna get a drink, do you want another?" She mumbled into your ear.

"I'm all good," you smiled, moving a bit of hair from her face. "I'll wait for you."

She smiled at you, teeth slightly crooked in an endearing way. The way she unabashedly wanted you made your heart soar. It was more than just her, it was the confirmation that this was possible. You didn't have to be hidden.

You glanced back at the Barça girls who were dancing and chatting not far from you. Patri gave you a thumbs up, as did an enthusiastic Mapí. You let Salma take your hand and spin you around playfully. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. Except Frido.

You didn't notice her at first. She was with Ingrid, dancing, though she seemed distracted and a little drunk. Her eyes flicked to yours, then away quickly. You didn't know she was coming tonight. Alexia hadn't said anything, though it was probably not to hurt you. You felt your heart clench at just the sight of her. Immediately your mood had slightly deflated. Was it impossible for you to go one day without being haunted by her?

You saw Salma notice where you were looking and she turned you so you were facing the opposite direction.

"Don't worry about her, she's just in a mood. That Italian is so into you. You should totally go for it."

Soon enough your dancing partner had returned with a drink. She pressed the back of her fingers to your cheek affectionately. "Do you want to keep dancing?"

You nodded, shooting her a smile.

This time, as you hung onto the Italian’s hips and let her run her hands across your skin, you couldn’t help but have your eyes flick back to Frido’s. Too frequently for it to be an accident. And she was always, always, looking back at you. Her face was somewhere between fury and heartbreak. Let her come and stop me if she wants, you thought to yourself.

The Italian’s hands drifted to your ass, pulling you closer until you were practically grinding on her thigh every time you moved. You would never normally do something like this, not anywhere where someone could see you. Surely even your teammates were a bit surprised. You were usually quite controlled and sweet, nothing that suggested the way you were dancing right now.

“If you want her to stop, you’ve got to talk to her. Now.” Alexia said in Frido’s ear.

Her moping was obvious now. Everyone had noticed.

You needed some fresh air. The lights were beginning to irritate you, as was the heat of the bodies surrounding you. You leaned up to the Italian’s ear and let her know that you were stepping outside for a second. She grinned at you and promised she would be out soon, after she used the restroom and grabbed her bag from coat check.

Frido saw you heading for the door. She saw the woman you were with smile at you, saw her wave, knew what was going to happen if she let the two of you leave together.

“What are you doing here, Frido?” you snapped as the blonde called your name.

She looked distraught. You had to swallow your concern.

“Please,” she took a steadying breath, “please just listen to me. Then you can go if you want. But please.”

You looked at the door, nervous that your Italian would walk out at any moment.

Frido was still looking at you with that face, that face you found very difficult to say no to.

You sighed.

“Okay.”

“I’m so sorry. I know I already apologized but it wasn’t what I wanted to say. I messed it up, like I’ve messed everything between us up for the past year.”

Frido moved closer, you felt your back hit the brick wall of the alley. There was a group of people smoking who ignored you completely.

Frido sank to her knees in front of you.

“I want to make it up to you,”

She was begging, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. You sucked in a breath, looking around you again for people who might be watching. The ground beneath you was filthy. You tugged on her hand, trying to pull her up, but she stayed put.

“Fridolina…”

“I’m serious. Not just for what I did to you during the game. All of it. I treated you like shit and you didn’t deserve it.”

“No, I didn’t.” You said harshly, the anger back all at once. “You acted like I was just some kind of dog who would come bounding up to you every time you threw it a bone. I’m not gonna do that.”

“I know—”

“I don’t believe you. I won’t believe it, either, until you show it to me. Your words mean nothing to me.”

Frido sat back on her knees, mouth shut. Now you were the one who was letting everything you had wanted to say this whole time pour out.

“You didn’t want anyone to know about us. I can’t do that anymore. You didn’t want us to be seen in public, ever. I don’t want that, not long term. You wouldn’t let me meet your family, or your friends. You wouldn’t let me stay in your apartment. I can’t do any of that. I want to be treated like your fucking equal. Because that’s what I am.”

Frido nodded.

“You are. You’re better than me.”

You shook your head.

“I’m not better than you. We’re peers. If we’re going to do this I want to be your partner, not your doormat, not your idol.”

You pulled her up until she was standing before you, not close enough to reach out and touch, not quite. You tilted your head to look in her eyes. The seconds seemed to drag on for hours.

She brushed the dirt from her knees, massaging the one she had injured for a split second.

“Come here.” You said softly.

Frido took a step forward, hesitant.

“I missed you.” She whispered.

You could barely hear it, but you nodded just the same.

“I thought you hated me.” She continued.

You waited, not sure what to say.

“Please, don’t hate me.”

Suddenly you caught a glimpse of the Italian out of the corner of your eye. She was by the front of the building looking for you.

“Wait here.”

You didn’t check to see if Frido nodded or not before you went to find the Italian woman. You weren’t going home with her, but you felt obligated to at least explain. Besides, she seemed to understand when you told her it was an emergency with one of your teammates, simply pressing her number on a piece of paper into your palm and kissing your cheek.

You turned back to the alley, catching Frido’s eye.

The cafe you arrived in was tiny, a true hole in the wall. You had been there many times with your seemingly unbreakable night owl habits. The staff knew you by name, and your order often arrived on your table before you had to say a word. The interior was a bit run down: the upholster was cracked on the leather couch, a few quilts thrown over it in an attempt to hide the fact. Miscellaneous chairs were positioned at small glass tables, many of which had newspapers and dried flowers stacked on top. It was homey and hardly anyone knew about it since it was tucked in an alleyway in a relatively quiet part of the city.

You hadn’t taken Frido here. The only person you trusted with it was Patri, and she had been sworn to silence. You had insisted that she put her phone away and refrained from putting it on her story. The last thing you needed was a million fans infiltrating the one space except from your apartment you felt was really yours.

“This is nice,” Frido said softly, treading cautiously even with her voice.

She took a look around, absorbing all of the little details of the room before her. It smelled lovely—mostly of tea and sugar from the pastries in the display. It was mostly empty except for the couches in the back where a few college students were still working.

“It’s my favorite place in Barcelona.”

Frido shifted her gaze to you, her lips curved in a small smile. The olive branch wasn’t lost on her. The fact that you had brought her here at all was a chance, a door cracked open slightly and waiting for Frido to push it all the way open. You wanted things to work too, the two of you just had to figure out how to make that happen.

You ordered for the both of you as Frido chose a table.

“Thank you,” Frido said as you placed her tea and biscuits in front of her.

She took a small sip of the drink, preparing herself for the conversation. You could feel the difference from the last time the two of you met. Now Frido seemed determined instead of scared.

“I want to try to make this work, if that’s what you want too.”

You took a breath, trying to tamper your joy a little bit.

“I do. But I hope you can understand why I’m hesitant. What happened before really hurt me, Frido.”

Frido put her hand on the table with her palm facing upwards, leaving the invitation open to you.

“I can’t apologize enough for what I did to you. I was horrible. But I want to change. I will change. I’m not afraid anymore.”

“Can you just tell me why you did it? At least something? I think if I understand how you felt, I’ll be able to move on more.”

You took her hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.

“I was being selfish. I was terrified of how I was feeling—I told myself I wasn’t queer if it was just sex, no attachments. I didn’t want to deal with soul searching. Every time I let myself consider the fact that I wanted more than sex I started to question everything. I wasn’t sure who I was or what was real attraction and what I made up… I just couldn’t let go of that fear. And I let that control me: it was more important than our relationship, it was more important than what you felt, it was all I was clinging to.”

You took a moment to process that. It made sense, though you obviously hadn’t known Frido felt that way.

“What changed?”

You were afraid to ask, but you needed to know.

“I realized what we have is more important than the fear; and I don’t have to have everything figured out. I want to be with you, that’s what matters.”

You honestly couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It seemed like a dream come true. All you had wanted for months was this conversation. Frido had finally said it: she wanted to be with you. She had feelings for you. She cared.

“I’m not sure what to say…” Frido rubbed the back of your hand with her thumb comfortingly. “I wanted to hear this so badly for so long. It seems too good to be true.”

“It’s not. I’m here, I was an idiot before and thankfully I woke up before I lost you completely.”

Frido scootched her chair around the table so she could be closer to you. She put a hand gently on your thigh, giving you a smile. You place yours overtop of hers, feeling giddy. Your pulse was racing as if you had consumed too much caffeine. You finally saw a future between you and Frido, something you had lost months ago. Maybe this could really be something. Maybe the two of you could be happy. Maybe you could make this work.

“So what do we do now?’

“I guess you let me take you on a date so I can do this properly.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso community #woso #barca femini x reader #my writing #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfo x reader #fridolina rolfo imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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harrysmimi · 10 months

Text

Fangirl

Synopsis: One where Harry's got yet another concert crush and she's got a sign for him

Ps. . This is sort of a shoutout to my fellow long hair girlies xx

More of my work

Wembley night one.

Harry was excited, nervous, jittery, happy and hyper at th same time. Playing three nights there was surreal enough.

All three of his shows are sold out. They sold put within seconds!

Night one, he got the sound check done, He worked out, took a shower, had some soup and got ready to rock the stage all whilst his opener, Wetleg band went first.

The show was amazing!

The next day he woke up, and did all of it all over again. He enjoyed it every single time. But somehow he was more nervous today. He didn't know why, he had this weird feeling in his gut there.

But it was his turn and the butterflies in his tummy never went away. He stalled for five whole minutes before he had to really go up and get on with the show.

After Late Night Talking, they stopped for a quick instrument change. And during that time it was Harry's sole job to keep the crowd entertained. He had maximum five to six minutes.

"If you've got any signs now is the right time to get them up." He announced as the music came to a halt. As he was going down the catwalk he noticed someone fiddling with a sign frantically in the sea of signs which was now the pit. It was a sketch book to be specific. "You alright there?" He asked catching the girls attention in all white and her hair tied up in a sleek bun. Her head shot up to look at him when the girl next to elbowed her. She had red heart glasses on. "You've got a sign for me?"

"Yes!" She said as loudly as she could.

Harry walked to the edge as he waited for her to show him her sign. He chuckled walking away but he walked back to her. "Can I read it out loud?" With her agreement he proceeded to read, "your sign says, 'if your answer was only "Yes" to question, I want to ask you one. Ps. I came all the way from India and worked my arse off for this night'." He giggled again, turning red from nervousness.

"Okay, first of all, What is your name, love?" He asked, his mic rested on his chin as he spoke.

"YN!"

"YN?" He got it wrong.

"YN!" She corrected him.

"Oh, YN." He got it right this time. "Well, I really appreciate you traveling all the way too for the show and working your arse for it, YN. Really appreciate it." He blew her a little kiss making her gasp, "and to your sign again. Can my answer only be yes?"

"Yeah!" She nodded.

"Okay..." He hesitated, bht what can really go wrong from here? "What is your question, YN? But keep in mind this is a family show." He smiled a cheeky dimply smile, "or is it?" And the crowd went feral.

"No, no, it is actually a family show. My mum and sister are here today." He added, "yeah, your sign YN."

Harry waited as she flipped her sign to the next page. He turned red like a tomato as he walked away again, making the crowd scream and laugh. "It says, 'Will you go on a Coffee date with me, please?' and in parentheses it says, 'You choose Romantic or Platonic'."

He couldn't help but blush, "it says please. Please!" He was impressed. "I guess I'm gonna have to say Yes." He shrugged still laughing, "at least I have a choice. Can it be not a coffee date?"

"It can be a Chai date?"

"It can be a Chai date?" He asked just to be sure, "yeah! Yeah, why not!" He agreed.

"It's a date!" She yelled.

"It's a date!" He announced dramatically.

"Pinky promise?" She yelled again (so he can hear her) holding up her pinky finger.

"Pinky promise!" He went along with it.

"Yeah, I'm here in my wedding dress if the date goes well." She said, making Harry blush and laugh hardee.

"Yeah, if it goes well." He giggled, "YN, you stay right there we're gonna get back to you after the show. We have disco medley to dance on!"

And the crowd roared at that as he started singing Cinema. And through the middle interlude he made up new lyrics.

"Everybody put your hands in the air, everybody put your hands in the air, put your hands in the air. Everybody put your in the air, everybody I've got a date after here, put your hands in the air." He joked as he continued on with his show there.

Sometime in the show, Harry walked back to the catwalk towards the girl with the sign. She seemed to be having a great time. But he stopped and handed her a rose he picked up from the front stage thrown at him during Grapejuice.

And sometime ahead in the show when he got back to the same catwalk, he saw she had tucked the rose on her ear as she danced.

Harry had a blast!

And he was smitten like a little kitten whole night!

......................................................................

It was the next day after the show.

Harry still have four days left until his next show. So he was going to stay back in London and spend time with his mum and sister, and even go visit his dad later sometime.

His sister hasn't stopped pulling his leg over the girl with the sign on night two.

But today he got a call from his dear friend Pauli, who was also his band member. Pauli never calls him, but he haven't checked his Instagram DMs yet.

"Mate!" Pauli exclaimed, "check your DMs on Instagram."

"Oh gosh, you scared me." He sighed, "I will check them in a minute, yeah?"

"Yep, yep, yep. Have a great day mate." Pauli said before they hung up the call.

Harry sat down on his bed. He had to anyway to put his shoes on, so he opened up Pauli's DM. It was a reel video he shared. It was a video of a girl's silhouette dancing to an Indian song, it was beautiful least to say. He went back see what his friend had to say. They asked him to check the profile out.

It was the girl from the girl with the sign, her bio said she's a dance teacher and of course a choreographer. Her account was verified with well over seven hundred fifty thousand followers. He picked the first post to check. It was a series of ten photos.

First one was a video of her being dramatic, with her dress scarf over her head. It also gave the full picture of her outfit, it was a pretty traditional outfit. It was very short and cut of after her and her friend started laughing. The second one was a cute picture of her and her friend. Then a short video of their interaction, when he gave her the rose. Then another of her Sarah giving her a one of the drum stick. And then a few from the dance studio session, he believed they were.

The last video was of her being woken up by her friend, jt was hilarious. "YN wake up, you just told Harry Styles you're getting married if the first date goes well." The voice behind the camera said. He believed it was the friend.

The girl woke up in surprise. "What the fuck?" She exclaimed still half asleep.

"You even showed him the wedding dress."

"No, I didn't?"

"Yes you did. You have a date with him."

"Shut up. Why does my head hurt."

"Because you drank straight up vodka last night."

"What? No!" She whined and the video cut off there.

Harry laughed watching that. He saw a bit of the comment she replied to hust underneath her caption which he did not understand. The comment said, "No, I don't drink and I drank about 100-150 ml of straight vodka my friend snuck into the venue in a Fiji fucking water bottle." Harry had a great laugh with that, and he saw another one of her replied. "My sober self would have NEVER let my intricate thoughts win. But yes, I asked him out. I had to have my shot (pun intended)." He laughed even more.

There were a few more replies. He saw a comment which explained why she was replying to comments was because she couldn't get out of her bed. A bad hangover it was.

There was a little translate button which he pressed to see what her caption was about because he saw a few more comments with laughing faces regarding captions. It said, "My husband's house." To which he laughed even more. His fans are crazy and they crazier stuff than this. He rather found this wholesome and adorable.

Harry almost had a heartattack when his phone slipped out of his hand. Not because he thought it broke, because he might accidentally like the post. He doesn't want to look creepy. He didn't liked it so he let out a sigh of relief and closed the app and locked his phone.

He remembered he was hungry and in need of a breakfast. So he headed out.

His chef was on off, because well he's on tour. And he can't cook to even save his life there. Though he might argue he can bake, just because he worked in a bakery.

He went to his favourite breakfast place. It was small and quiet and no one bothered him there. He also wore his cap, and his hoodie with a pair of sweats this time, a little bit of change in outfit so he have a quiet day by himself.

"Can I please have a get a large iced Matcha Latte and one of the Chocolate croissants to go?" The guy in front of him ordered as he checked of the menu on the side wall mean while. It was his turn to order.

Just as he turned around he saw a familiar face with glasses on, sat at a corner table.

Wait, is he hallucinating or something here?

She wore a beige cardigan paired with a white tshirt, and what looked like to be a pair of baggy jeans, black heeled boots with red bottoms. Her hair was left loose behind her back, and Subway sandwich as she sketched in her sketch pad.

"One Mocha Latte for YN!"

It was her!

He waited by the side where she'd go over and pick her drink.

Harry was in awe. He wasn't sure if her hair were real or she wore extentions, but he was smitten all over again. She stood almost as tall as him which sort of intimidated him there. She checked her cup as she picked it up and almost bumped into him there with a hot drink in her hand.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She gasped. "Oh my god!" And this was a different gasp of emotion.

"Hello there." He smiled sheepishly.

"This is going to be awkward." She chuckled, seemingly more embarrassed than he was. She looked down at her clothes to make sure nothing was split. Her shirt was his merch. "See! I'm so sorry."

"No, it's alright." He shrugged and watched as his order was ready.

"Just... I am sorry about what I said at the concert." Her cheeks have turned red, "that was so stupid of me."

"Yeah?" Harry gathered up all his courage to say, "why don't you tell me this with coffee then?"

Her eyes went wide as behind her glasses, "sur--sure!" And she agreed. They walked upto the table she was sat at. There was a paper bag from Selfridges and her bag which had a scarf spilling out of it by the side, as if it was shoved in theere in hurry. She closed her sketch pad (which thought he saw a glimpse of a pretty sketch of a dancer she was drawing) and kept it aside and her phone.

"I never drink, and I accidentally drank like I don't know how many shots of vodka." She started explaining it anxiously. "Before you ask how I didn't know it was vodka. I am a dancer and you know after you've been working out for so long and you drink some water and tour throat burn a little? Wait, that sounded so wrong but you know what I mean! I literally did not meant to say what I said apart from the sign!"

"Calm down, love calm down." He smirked trying to hold back his his laugh. "It's alright, I promise it's alright."

He's just having a happy and giggly day!

"Thank you." She sighed and sunk into her seat.

"Hope you at least enjoyed the show?"

"Oh yes, I did." She nodded sitting up straight again and reached for her sandwich. "I remember everything, except for after I accidentally got shit faced, as you all say it here."

"Understandable." He commented.

"How's your day going so far?" She asked.

Oh boy how YN hated small talks. But she doesn't want this to be an awkward encounter with the celebrity love of her life!

"It's been amazing." He admitted, "what about you? Are you here on a vacation?"

Okay, he's bringing something along to chat. Okay, YN calm down!

"Oh, no I'm not here on a vacation." She shared, "as I said I'm a dancer so I'm here for the semi finals and finals for this compitition I entered in."

"Oh, that's interesting." He was amused, "did you win? Oh wait, you had your finals yet?"

"Yeah. I got the second place." She smiled proudly. "It was just yesterday."

"That's amazing, congratulations!" He gasped. He's genuinely happy for her.

"Thank you, thank you so much!" She now beamed at him with excitement. Or you can say quiet excitement, as she took a sip from her coffee.

He liked the way she talked and how she carried herself. Especially now she's all sober and not drunk dancing like she was at his concert. Both those situations show her personality. But he liked how she talked. Something about her felt so delicate. Her posture was way too perfect, it made him feel insecure about his as he sat up straight.

"You're in town for longer?" He asked hesitantly.

"No," she let out a sad sigh, "I am going back home this evening actually."

Now he didn't know what to say further and it looked she had nothing to say either. And neither of them had touched their breakfast. Which was going to be awkward to leave. YN took a bite of her sandwich.

"You know what, I am so bad at small talk." She admitted making him giggle.

"So am I." He admitted too, "what's that?" He pointed at her sketch pad. It made her go red again.

"I draw a little." She admitted and picked up her book. She flipped rhe cover to show him a pretty little sketch of a bunch of roses. And she carefully skipped five pages to the one he saw a glimpse of earlier. It was half done sketch of a ballerina, it looked like she was drawing it with her own imagination.

"That's very pretty." He commented, "why'd you skip those five pages?"

Okay, Stage Harry making an appearance with the confidence there!

"Those are not done yet!" She got defensive. And he just squinted his eyes at her, "I'm already so embarrassed Harry, honestly." She held back a sheepish smile.

It was indeed a smiley and giggly and happy day today!

"Are you gonna show me?"

She sighed and turned the page for him. It was a sketch of rhe grumpy bear from his Gucci collection and the next one was his sketch. The one he posted after his San Jose, Live On Tour show. And the next was his Madison Square Garden pose sketch. And next was from the Coachella show with extremely detailed drawing of his tattoos, and a cowboy hat.

"Oh I love this one!" He is really mesmerises by it.

"Thank you." Her cheeks hurt from smiling and blushing so much in that moment. "You can keep it."

"It's alright." He felt bad now. He doesn't want to take what looks to be hours and hours of work. "Looks like it took many hours to draw."

His accent was sending her to heaven, but she managed to keep her cool. "It's alright." She proceeded to tear off the page carefully.

"Thank you." He's going to get it framed and hung up at his home. Yup, that's the first thing he's going to do!

Harry carefully placed the thick paper in the book he was reading. And it got super silent between both of them, as he sipped his coffee and she ate her sandwich. The chatter became just a background noise. It was comfortable and not awkward. Until her phone dinged with five messages back to back.

"Excuse me." She picked up her phone to check the message. She typed a quick message, with a looks of upset and disappointment on her face.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah." She nodded, "it was my friend asking when I have to leave." Her friend was going to drop her off to the airport today. She's got to go back and pack up and all. She placed the last bite of her sandwich down on the wrapper not knowing how to tell him she has to go now. It felt wrong. "I should go now? Have to pack and stuff."

"Mhmm." He nodded.

"I'm really sorry about this." She felt bad, because they didn't get to talk much.

"It's alright, love, you got a flight to catch I understand." He nodded as he watched in awe and she placed her scarf around over her neck and gather her stuff.

"Please take care of that for me, it took me fourteen hours to make." She said as she got up and hung her bag on her shoulder.

"I promise." He smiled a dimply grin as he glanced at the little sketch. "Hey, YN?"

"Hmm?" She looked at him as she picked up the trash to throw it in the bin on her way out.

"I, uhhh, can I have your number?" He asked. It had YN's heart almost burst open in her chest cavity.

Harry Freaking Styles is asking for her number?!

"You want my number?" YN couldn't believe what she heard.

She was only joking when she took that sign with her. She sat back down on her seat giving him her fully undivided attention.

"Mhmm." Harry nodded, with curiosity behind his bight green eyes and lips pursed in a thin line. He pulled out his phone to unlocked it to open the dial pad and placed it on the table facing her.

He noticed how she didn't even pick up the device as she typed her number with shaky number. She typed in her name with her pointer finger as she saved it and slide his phone back towards him. Her cheeks had turned a visible shade of rosy tint. He immediately sent her a dot so she could have his number and not think he's a creep when he decides to text her.

That's when he also noticed she's got an Android. He'll definitely have to download WhatsApp now!

"Okay, Harry I really have to run now." She shared, "I broke my shoes and I can't walk fast in heels."

"Yeah." He nodded a beaming smile, "talk to you soon."

"Hmm." She nodded and sped walked out. As she walked past the glass window she waved at him before she jogging out of his sight.

He spent next hour and half with his earphones in, stalking her page. The reels side. Videos of her dancing with a crowd of people. Effortlessly beautiful. Different studios and different locations.

There was a video of her dancing for who looked to be her grandma and mother. The older lady looked very impressed as she sat there in her chair. And the next video was of her dancing with her mum and the next was her recreating old and black and white pictures of her grandma.

It looked like she comes from family of dancers.

He's obsessing over her now. He stopped and noticed he's run out of coffee and that way too much screen time for him. So he went home grinning like a little boy.

......................................................................

It had been a good few months. Harry felt way too awkward to message her. Nothing about their interaction at the cafe was shared by her or anyone really.

It was nearing December. He's framed the piece of art she gave him and hung it where it is in plain sight. He was also hosting a quiet little surprised birthday party for his elder sister.

He's been in deep conflict and he hasn't shared it with anyone else. His interaction with her at the cafe.

But he saw on her WhatsApp stories that she's back in London for work again. He was in London so he texted her to check on if she's up for a little meet up. But his message unfortunately went unseen for a day and half. But he recieved a call from her instead.

He'd just woken up from his impromptu afternoon nap after his intense workout session, which was supposed to be just half an hour long but it's almost seven in the evening. He hadn't even changed yet.

"Hello?" Her voice rang through the speaker phone which was enough to break his sleep there.

"Hello!" He woke up abruptly, "Hi!"

"Were you off to bed already? I'm so sorry to wake you up." Her voice was full of sympathy thinking she woke him up.

"No, I was, I was taking a nap. What's up?"

"I just called to apologise, I saw your message on my notifications but I literally forgot to reply. I've just been so busy. I don't know how to say this over message..." Her voice trailed off with a hint of sheepishness.

"It's alright, I understand." And he really does understand. "I texted you to see if you're up for a meal, and uhhhh, to catch up...?" And he's nervous now.

"I am sorry, I am really busy tomorrow. I have rehearsals for the tour— fuck!" She cut off herself, "I am not supposed to speak about it. I, I am busy tomorrow as well."

He chuckled, "we can meet up now or whenever you're free today."

"Wouldn't it be too late?" Now she sounds nervous.

"I slept for five hours now, don't think I'll be able to sleep again." He shrugged as if she can see him through a voice call, feeling his cheeks grow warmer and tired with a realisation that he's been grinning like a totally idiot.

"Okay. Uhhh, yeah, okay. I'll just have to go back to my hotel, take a shower, and get ready, and, and, I don't know..." She panicked and talked to herself, "okay, we can meet at around ten...ish... If you're fine with that?"

"Send me your location I'll pick you up at ten-thirty." He chuckled again, her little ramble was so adorable to him.

"Okay!" She squeaked.

Harry heard someone calling her name, that was the queue for him to get off the call and get ready. And so he did. He bid her bye and ran to shower. Get out of his dirty and sweaty clothes. He spent three hours getting ready, as if he's going on an actual date.

At exactly ten he recieved her location. He was dressed in a pair of jeans, his white 'Enjoy your health. Eat your honey' shirt and a black coat to keep himself warm. With a pair of black sneakers he reached first. He didn't had much time so picked the first black pair he saw and ran with it.

With traffic it's take him forty minutes to get to her location. He dropped her a text once he reached to the hotel she was staying that.

It was a luxurious and fancy to say the least.

He saw her getting out of the entrance as she bid her friends bye and walked towards the direction he had told her to. It took a few moments to see him. But he saw her.

She wore exactly same outfit as him, but with a black tshirt and her beige coat and white comfy sneaker. Her heels were missing. Her hair left loose this time. Her staple pair lf priscription glasses were placed on the bridge of her nose. A silver necklace shined over the black fabric of her shirt.

"Harry!" She gasped once she noticed him and sped walked towards him. "I am still going to fangirl, please excuse me!"

He chuckled as he approached for a hug, "no worries." He snaked his arms around her middle pulling her in a tight and warm hug, just to get one right back.

He'd hugged her just a couple lf times but she gives the best hugs.

Yup!

"I have something for you!" She got all giddy and giggly as she pulled away from their hug.

"What is it?" Obviously he's curious.

"Not now," she wiggled her brows cheekily. "Where are we going?"

"Well, if you haven't had your dinner yet, I hope to take you somewhere for dinner." He already opened the car door for her.

"Oh yes please!" She sighed, "I am starving." And got into his car.

"As you say." He closed the door and jogged to the drivers side. "What do you want to eat?"

"Hmm, let me think." She put in a thought into it as she put on her seat belt and he'd already pulled out of the car park, "I want to try fish and chips... Is that too touristy to say?"

"Not at all!" He defended, "we can have fish and chips." He drove to a location just fifteen minutes away. And she followed him in there, it was not very crowded given it was around the closing time. Clearly, it was a pub she saw as she headed upstairs.

"You know I don't drink, right?" She whispered, following him closely behind.

"I know, but this place has the best fish and chips." He led her to an empty table, "you want me to take your coat?"

"No, it's okay I'm cold." She shrugged. They ordered their food and sat in a cosy little corner.

"So you're going on a tour?" He squinted his eyes at her.

"Stop, I wasn't supposed to talk about that. I'll get in serious trouble!" She gasped making him laugh.

"I promise, your secret is safe with me." He pushed for the last time, if she denies he wouldn't talk about jt ever again. But she looked around to see the people already engaged in their own time there as she leaned forward.

"I am going to be a part of The Eras Tour now!" She whispered before she was kicking her feet like a baby in excitement.

"What!? That's amazing!" He was surprised to hear that to say the least.

"Yes!" She grinned, "we start off in Tokyo. You're going to any of the shows?"

"I am definitely going now." He nodded feeling bold, "on one condition."

"What is that?" She looked at him confused.

"Maybe we can call this a date?" He shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible and watched her face go pale.

"You are serious?" She countered instead of answering his query first.

He leaned in closer over the table too, "I think I've made it pretty clear, I like you." A sheepish chuckle left his mouth, "like a lot!"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on. I wasn't expecting this!" She announced with a gasp. "You're pranking me?"

Harry squinted his eyes, " why would I joke about this?"

"You're joking!" Now this was a surprised accusation on him which sent him laughing.

"I am not." He cleared his throat after he was done laughing.

"I, uhhhh," she stuttered, "I need time to think..."

"No worries." He said but before he could say anything further, their food was served.

Harry switched to another topic to make the situation less awkward. She definitely felt awkward and he's rather have her be comfortable than be adamant in getting his way.

"You're not drinking right?" She asked.

"No, I gotta drive." He answered, "why so?"

"No, 'cause I paid like two hundred pound fee for driving without a licence and going over the speed limit here last night." She shared sheepishly, "in my defence all of my friends were drunk their ass off and I had no idea how the uber thing works here. They definitely would have arrested me but they let me go, I don't want to risk that. I still don't know how the uber thing works. That's like my entire month salary gone..."

She's got a job which pays ber better now so she was fine with paying the fine. Or she wouldn't have mind spending a night behind bars. Yeah, she'd do that.

He giggled, "don't worry that won't happen." He understands, it's a new place for her and it can be difficult to figure out addresses and stuff. Especially when it comes to have some stranger drive you around when you don't know the area so well. "You want Icecream?"

"Always down for Icecream!" She announced.

Harry took her to his favourite ice cream place before he drove her back to her hotel. Now, he didn't wanted the night to come to come an end with her. He could spend hours and hours talking and listening her talk. He got put of his car just so he can make the moments linger more. He hugged her but held onto her hand as he wished her a good night.

"Thank you for, uhhhh, taking me out." YN stuttered as she spoke with a sheepish smile, "and about, ummm, your question... I, uhhhh, I don't want things to get you know sour between me and uhhh..." She was trying to find words in language he understands but he already had idea where she was going with this. "With uhhh, me and Taylor. Please don't get me wrong. She's my employer and now she's become a good friend of mine during the rehearsals and stuff. Given you two were together, even though it was a decade ago. I still want to talk to her."

"Mhmm." Harry nodded, because that meant hope was still hanging in there. His heart is still intact in his chest with these new growing feelings.

"But if you're still going to any of the show let me know, okay?" He squeezed his hand slightly.

"I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise!" He squeezed her hand back.

It just means he get to be fancy and take her out on a proper date!

......................................................................

That was last year.

Harry was in Tokyo for the first show which YN was part of. He was there with his friends and even his sister joined along with her boyfriend.

YN had sent a bouquet of flowers and a card at his place his birthday, which undoubtedly made his entire year. It was a nice gesture given she said she's so bad at gift giving, especially for birthdays. He kept the card safe.

He has also been waiting for her answer eagerly. Even though it should be pretty evident it's a yes, they talk a lot more now given she's so freaking busy, they're both always texting or sending each other snaps of highlights of their days.

Harry bought a bouquet of flowers for her before he was off to see her. They were meeting up at this little cafe he picked out, but it was going to be her treat in celebration of her new project beginning. It was so special because Japan is his most favourite place to be. And YN have also been so excited to show him something in particular she wouldn't tell him over text or their usual phone calls.

Just as he was about to text her to see if she was there as he walked up the street, he saw her jogging looking at her phone screen. Probably at the google maps. Her face framing hair bounced around her features, as she tried to be as fast as she can in a pair of sandals. A baggy hoodie and her favourite paor of jeans. Her usual glasses missing.

Harry remembered her saying she got contact lenses as she can't really perform with her glasses on. And she needs to see the stage for that.

"Harry!" She squealed omce she saw him.

"Hello love!" He greeted her with his usual warm hug, and recieved one right back. YN just squeezed him tight, like her life depends on it. "I got you flowers." He quietly whispered in her ear there.

"I know!" Her face buried in the fabric of his Bode button down shirt.

Now both of them spent their entire day together, had all three meals and snacks out, walked around seeing all they could see in a day, hand in hand. Before Harry was walking her back to her hotel, which was barely five minutes away from hers.

"I'll take you to see more places later, now please take some rest you've got a big day tomorrow." They both stopped just outside her hotel.

"I know!" YN nodded excitedly with her tired eyes moving closer to him. She works for next four days straight then she's got five days off before she's got to go to Australia for next shows. "You'll be there right?"

"Of course, came all the way here for it." He assured her, feeling his heart flutter in his chest.

"If your answer was yes, I want to ask you a question.' She spoke with a subtle cheeky smile on her face.

"Go for it." He said.

"You want today to be a date?" Now he completely forgot about his question he asked months and months ago. He was just pulled back to senses when she moved even closer to him, making his heart thump in his ears.

YN has had plenty of time to think, work on herself and talk to her new friends/ employer about this. Of course, Taylor is not a kid anymore. She was in fact so happy for YN, when she approached her one random day at the dinner after rehearsals. They both sat down seperately and had a nice thoughtful chat.

YN of course told her mother and grandmother, who she is the closest to about this. They obviously support her because she's so happy. Her missed her mum and grandmother, one of them couldn't travel because of their age and the other couldn't come because they had to take care of the other. She misses her family, being away isn't as romantic as she thought it would be.

But today was amazing. She felt like she had someone known with her for the first time in months and months, in flesh next to her.

YN just wanted to kiss him then and there. In the middle of the street. But she didn't know how to approach with it.

"Hands down, it was the best date I've ever been on." He shared with a beaming smile on his face. "We should do this again, yeah?" He snaked his arms around her waist sure that she's figured everything out by now and that she's finally willing to give them a chance.

"Yeah!" She nodded. He went in for a kiss as the same time as her, bumping into her nose they both ended up in a fit of giggle. "I am sorry!" She laughed, "I've never kissed anyone."

Harry giggled again but assured her, "it's okay." He leaned in again, his time taking the charge he placed his mouth on hers in a delicate kiss. Once he pulled away he had her blushing her forehead pressed on his chest. "It's just a kiss, you're gonna get a lot of those now!" He laughed hugging her again. She groaned before lifting her head up to look at him with a red face.

"I was just a fangirl!" She couldn't believe her life in that moment.

"Now I'll be a fangirl tomorrow." He pointed out, "cheering especially for you."

......................................................................

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nsfwflint · 7 months

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A Black Tie Affair And A Long Goodbye (Partial Draft)

A/N: So this is the partial draft of what was going to be my farewell piece before I retired. It initially started out as an idea for a Kang Mina x Sejeong piece after they both had amazing appearances in black dresses for award shows last year. Then I added Jihyo, and then Yoojeong, and as I kept finding more pictures of hot idols in black dresses, the list just kept growing and growing. It eventually evolved into an idea for a piece where instead of a massive orgy, it would be a ton of quickie scenes varying in length but typically not exceeding 3k words per scene. However, clearly, that never happened. I ended up putting a lot of pressure on myself and eventually retired without putting anything out. I'm posting it now but be warned; this is a very rough draft that has gone through zero editing. I'm not gonna lie, it's not that great and the smut itself is eerily similar to Reconnecting despite me trying not to copy my own piece. Anyway, here it is and I hope you enjoy. Treat this as a winter holiday present I guess.

As you stare at the thin black fabric hugging the voluptuous body before you, a single thought crosses your mind. You love your girlfriend. Not just because her curvaceous figure in that black dress tantalizes you as she stands a few feet away, but for what the dress itself means.

Award show season. The few nights of the year your girlfriend finally gets awarded for all her amazing work through the year.

However it’s also the few nights of the year that she and all her friends get so unbelievably stressed, that she loans you out to all her gorgeous friends for “relief.” The first time she asked about you to help her friend, you thought it was a trap. But somehow it wasn’t and you discovered that your amazing girlfriend is completely okay with essentially whoring you out to her equally beautiful friends, the cherry on top to your already incredible relationship.

While initially it was only your girlfriend and a few of her close friends, word about your “services" quickly and quietly spread throughout the industry, with more and more celebrities using you for relief every year. At first you were worried about the increasing number of requests, but your girlfriend convinced you to take care of anyone who asked. As it turns out, she actually gets turned on by the thought of so many women wanting you.

Wondering how many gorgeous women you’ll have to satisfy this year, a loving voice finally pulls you from your thoughts.

“You ready to go?”

“Of course, baby. Let’s get going.” You smile as you gently take her hand and start making your way towards the door.

It hasn’t even been ten minutes since you arrived at the venue before the first taker pulls you into a bathroom. You quickly get pushed into a stall onto a thankfully closed toilet and find yourself with the first voluptuous beauty of the night grinding on your lap as she peppers your neck with kisses.

“Jesus, Mina. I haven’t even been in the building for fifteen minutes and you’re already jumping me like this?” You groan as her soft lips kiss up and down your neck.

“I can’t help it. I saw you looking amazing in that tux and all the stress I’ve had lately just exploded. I just fucking needed you so much.” Mina whines, her hungry kisses tracing your jawline.

“Sounds like you’ve been under a lot of pressure then. With that kind of stress, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d been a bad girl lately.” You tease.

Your hands instinctively make themselves at home on Mina’s hips with a rough squeeze as her barrage of kisses comes to a screeching halt. Pulling away from your neck, she stares into your eyes with an intense erotic gaze.

“Oh, I’ve been a very bad girl. I need you to punish me with your fat cock, daddy.” Mina replies, slowly emphasizing every word as her voice drips with lustful seduction.

The first time she called you daddy during sex it caught both of you off guard. After the initial shock however, you discovered just how much it turned you on; something she’s used to her advantage ever since.

She gently pushes her hand against your chest as she stands up off of your lap. You waste no time getting ready, quickly unbuckling your belt and dropping your pants down to your ankles. Mina pulls her dress up to her midriff, revealing her delightfully fit tummy and a thin pair of black panties.

Sliding her panties to the side to reveal her moist entrance, Mina eagerly sinks herself on your throbbing cock. Both of you release a pleasured moan as her tight cunt hungrily grips your shaft. Lifting herself up briefly, she quickly slams herself back down as her shapely ass ripples against your thighs. It doesn’t take long for her to establish her usual cock hungry rapid pace as she furiously rides you.

“Oh fuck, you fill me so much, daddy.” Mina cries, slamming herself on your cock.

“You like riding daddy’s dick like this don’t you?” You grunt as your tip pounds away at her depths.

“Yes daddy I do. You hit me so deep, daddy.”

Her curvaceous body ripples and bounces with every frantic slam. Contented moans pour endlessly from her lips as she places her hands on your shoulders. The velvety heat of her moist chasm radiates along your shaft as her walls clamp around your cock. Each thrust pierces into the deepest part of her cunt, driving both of you to the brink of ecstasy.

As Mina becomes a mewling mess on your cock, you can’t help but notice how gorgeous she is in her midnight black dress. It tightly hugs her large chest as her auburn hair tumbles down its erotic curve. Watching her big tits heave wildly in the black fabric, you quickly find yourself unable to hold back your own desires. You yank down the tight dress, freeing the large breasts with a satisfying bounce and immediately taking a stiff nipple into your mouth. Your hands sink into the pillowy flesh of her chest as you rapidly roll your tongue around the fleshy nub.

“Fuck, I love when you suck my tits, daddy.” Mina shrieks as her fingernails dig into your shoulders through your tux.

While you should probably be worried about how loud she’s moaning, worshiping her chest erases all other thoughts from your mind. You quickly flick your tongue up and down the sweet nipple as her heavenly flesh ripples against your lips. Your fingers can’t get enough of her silky skin, squeezing and kneading both of the fleshy mounds endlessly in your hands. The small beauty mark on her right breast dances in and out of your vision as her tits bounce with every frantic slam on your cock.

As you messily devour Mina’s pillowy breasts, her hands move to the nape of your neck. She grabs as much of your hair as she can and pushes your face even farther into the satiny skin of her chest. Endless moans and gasps flow from her lips as she fervently rides your cock, humping and bouncing on you with a vigorous sexual hunger that you’ve rarely experienced. No longer content with Mina just fucking herself on your dick, you give her tits another rough squeeze as you begin to buck your hips upwards.

“Oh fuck yes, daddy!” Mina cries out as your tip slams into her depths.

Her moist cunt tightly grips your shaft, tugging and pulling with every eager thrust. The soft skin of her endless curves ripples beautifully as your bodies hungrily crash against each other. Your hands move down to her slender hips, squeezing them tightly as you drive your cock deeper and deeper into her hot chasm with every forceful slam. You continue to slurp, suck, and nibble on her stiff nipple; feasting on the sweet flesh as the heavy weight of her large tits slap against your face from Mina bouncing wildly on your dick.

You lose track of how long the two of you have been carnally devouring each other’s bodies when every fiber of your body feels like it’s on fire. You regretfully removes your lips

“I’m gonna fucking cum, Mina.” You groan as you feel yourself reaching your limit.

“I’m almost there too. Cum inside me, daddy. Fill this tight pussy with daddy’s thick cum.” Mina screams, her hips bucking non-stop as she furiously rides your cock.

Almost as soon as she finishes her sentence, Mina’s own orgasm is the first to arrive. A rush of her sticky nectar rushes down your shaft as her velvety walls clench around your dick. Not far behind her, you continue to pound your tip away at her depths. As her body trembles on your cock, you forcefully push your dick as deep as you can inside her. She pushes your face into her deep cleavage and it’s all it takes to bring you to your own climax. Your tip throbs against the entrance of her womb before violently erupting.

An endless torrent of thick cum floods into Mina’s womb, quickly filling her to the brim with an unending stream of ropey semen exploding from your tip. Mina slowly grinds against you as you continue filling her with an obscene amount of your childbearing seed, her hot walls tightly gripping your shaft as it tries to milk as much of your potent cum as it can. One final spurt of your cum drowns her womb and both of your orgasms slowly die down.

The bathroom falls silent except for the heavy panting of the two of you trying to catch your breath. After a few minutes, you finally remove your face from Mina’s cleavage as she looks at you with an affectionate smile. She softly presses her lips against yours before standing up. Your shaft coated with the sticky remnants of both of your orgasms, it glistens in the fluorescent light as she lifts herself off your cock. No longer being dammed by your depleted member, a thick white waterfall slowly drips out of her entrance.

The two of you chuckle as you take the nearby toilet paper and quickly clean yourselves up. After a few minutes of fixing your clothes, both of you look the same as before you entered the bathroom. Mina looking drop dead gorgeous in her black dress and you looking painfully average in your tux. She gives you another gentle kiss before pulling back and smiling.

“That was exactly what I needed. Thank you, daddy. I’ll see you later.”

Mina gives you a teasing wink before disappearing from the bathroom. Just to be safe, you wait a few more minutes before leaving the bathroom and returning to the venue halls, wondering who will be next.

A/N2: So the plan for the piece was with so many idols included, I wanted it to be like a choose your own adventure type thing where all the scenes would be included but the reader could pick which one was the true "girlfriend" for themselves. A potential/joke ending that I came up with involved a time skip with the protagonist sitting in front of a table with a mountain of positive pregnancy tests from all the idols. Not sure if I would have gone with that as the official ending, but I guess we'll never know. I had started the second scene in my draft, but since the smut scene for that idol wasn't finished, I didn't include it. Just felt like it would be a tease and I don't want to do that you guys since I don't know if I'll ever finish it. But if I do, I'll post it as a part two I guess. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.

#kpop #kpop smut #reader insert #reader x idol #male reader x idol #kang mina #gugudan mina #reader x kang mina

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theagstd · 4 days

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One Night Stand

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; strangers to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n

→ contains smut, fluff and angst

→ chapter one ; wc | 2.8k

primarily on Wattpad

a/n ; i decided to post on Tumblr as an alternative platform since Wattpad seems to be taking down books but anyway hope you enjoy my book and follow me here and on wattpad to read more content from me. this is the first series i'm posting on Tumblr so hope it's good enough.

chapter one

Index ↪ next chapter

The club lights up with multiple disco colours rotating around the area, the neon, dynamic lighting, and strobes allow the people to see each other in various hues and tints, including you. There you stand, leaning your hip towards the bar while typing a letter and sipping the earthy red wine, 'Pinot Noir' with a twisty fancy straw that the club offers.

"Yeah, I'm gonna do it."

You screamed over for the second time to your friend who sits beside you, grooving herself to the music playing out loud with her champagne glass in her hand.

"There's no way you're gonna do it." Kayla is her name. The only friend you've made here in Seoul, Korea. You wouldn't exactly call her your best friend or good friend, but well, she's been there for you for a couple of months. You both worked together as an intern at the coffee store down the street, and she left for a better job while you're stuck finding job applications to work as a graphic designer that you've mastered. The boundary between your conversation was due to the loud music being played, but you managed to hear her over it. "Just a sec, let me mail my application."

It's one of the 5th applications you've filled for the day and were now sending it at a club, while you're drunk as fuck but you've tried to keep a tweesy bit of your consciousness just so this mail doesn't go all wrong, it can't go wrong. It's for a very prestigious company in Korea. You clicked on the 'send' option of email and turned off your phone to get back to why you're actually here at the club.

"Why not? You guys tried it, and now it's my turn." Picking out the plastic straw with your fake nails, you dropped it and chugged down the rest of the wine, patting your lips against the tissue to wipe off the excess alcohol that was stuck to your gloss, you moaned at the taste of the liquid hitting your throat.

"Girl, you're gonna rock it. Go ride him out!!"

The woman in the red bodycon dress with her hair tied up to a ponytail hyped you more by her words.

She was always ready for a good fuck and have always tried to push you for it too, since it's been a while you've been deprived from sex as you held strongly to your faith of being in a relationship but tonight, you could really feel yourself ready for it and so you were just gonna hit up to anyone who you think would be the best at it.

The dance floor looked so inviting with the couples and single females dancing to the sensual music played by the DJ, what the floor was missing was you so you slipped your way towards it and began to shake your body to the beats of the song. Kayla and a few of her friends cheered for you, and that only made you move harder.

the bodycon dress you wore, showed off your perfect curves that you've worked hard for throughout your life, your ideal hourglass body matched no one's on the stage, you were the woman of the night. Not only does the dress look alluring on you, but the length of it being above your knees, long sleeved, and the box neck of it made most of the men around you to drool. you enjoyed the attention that you received.

It was what alcohol makes you crave for. When the music skipped to the remix of Streets by Doja Cat, the lights dimmed to orange and red, spreading an intimate vibe between couples, allowing the ladies to feel themselves to each word, each beat of each second. The rich smoky scent of cigarettes lingered under your nose, arousing you to grab on and place them between your lips but you control yourself, not wanting to fall into the trap of tobacco once again that left you suffering for months.

What stopped you from dancing was the eyes of a man who sat distant from the dance floor, alone at the corner of the room with his champagne glass around the palms and fingertips. He looked appealing, charming, and smart. you looked over at him to be fully aware if he was, in fact, looking at you or another woman, then making eye contact with the man he looked into your eyes to. sipping his liquid while his hooded eyes never left yours, his eyes welcomed you, so you walked to him to accept his hospitality.

To get a closer look at his eyes, that warmed you, that stopped you from dancing, those eyes that made you feel unique of them all. your heels clicked on the floor, towards the man who was seated on the velvet couch that were coloured in crimson red, unmatching his jet black suit that sparkled with the ebony glitter, his black shirt unbuttoned and his hair sweaty and long that curled up and fell on his eyes, covering his right one.

'fuck, had i noticed him before, it would be me, eyeing him all the way.'

you thought to yourself while you pushed your bangs away from your eyes so you could look at him deeper. "hey?" greeting him with your deep voice, since the alcohol had left your voice box dry, you took a seat beside him, his manly vanilla scent brushed under your nose that allowed you to take a deep breath of his fragrance.

"What do you want?" he questioned you, with droopy eyes, no he did not look sleepy he looked aroused by your presence. his fingertips that gripped his glass, was taken off them as you gulped down the little liquid that he had remained in it. the man was surprised, the move was bold, unexpected yet attractive. you dropped the glass on the table and licked your lips, eyes squinting at the horrible taste of it.

"fuck, that was so bitter."

you whispered under your breath, that he heard as the music at this corner of the room was not very loud. you then looked over at him, since he had asked you a question a while ago before you chugged down his absolute bad taste on alcohol. Being confident was a positive aspect of liquor, it brought that up to you, it allowed you to be who you are within you, bringing out the inner devil. the queen of horniness, the spirit of sex.

"wanna go upstairs?"

mumbling breathly, you asked him, looking over at his eyes, now that he brushed his hair with his fingers allow you to examine his dark black eyes that glare into your soul. you didn't hesitate, you were assured that you needed him. you need him inside of you so you're gonna get it. he analysed you, from that ruby red gloss to that tight figure hugging dress that hugged your waist ever so perfectly leaving your thighs on display that had that flesh just the way he liked it,

so he could grab it with his palm while you rode him. he knew from first glance that he needed you, he could tell that you had the body just the way he liked it, just his type. However, he was not gonna take advantage of this opportunity since you're drunk. "no thanks."

He mumbled, grabbing his champagne bottle and pouring the rest of it into his glass, which you had left a lip imprint with the gloss, he could see how plump your lips were just by the stain you had left. you were not accepting a no for an answer, he dared to undress you with his eyes and he said no. You liked the play, you liked the tension, this made you grow closer to him, the man didn't move.

This, of course, means that he wants you too. "you're missing out. this is a good opportunity. Come on." you whispered, at which he caught on immediately. He was trying his best to ignore you, but he could feel himself getting hard just by this, teasing.

"don't. don't miss it out." He knew that you're doing this intentionally so you could trap him. It's working. the words coming out of your mouth breathlessly, fanning it over his ears while your lips brush on his ear lobe, the man exhaled sharply and quietly not wanting you to know that this is all getting him affected.

for the first time, he feels weak, even sipping the liquid isn't doing anything to him right now, the world seems like it's stopped and you're the only one here, working your way into his pants. he faced you only to see nothing but lust, passion, and the drive of sexual frustration. he looks for confirmation in your eyes, he sees it. he sees how you need this, and you seem conscious about this decision.

"Let's go." You hear him mumble, allowing the both of you to step up from the couch, following him to a corridor that leads to the washrooms. You internally groan at this. You want sex. full on sex not a quickie, but when you walk behind him, his hand never leaves yours. you pass by the horny couples fucking around,

the moans of the females, males and the gay couples who have almost filled up the male restrooms. he walked you into a room, the interior of it modern, ebony and maroon.

scented candles lighting up the atmosphere, rose fragrance slip into each other's breasts. he walked towards you, stopping at the doorstep while you admire the luxury of this area, where no one seemed to be around, this corridor was empty, the faint music was barely heard, just the room giving beauty and the beast vibes. his hand left yours as it snuck into his pockets. glancing over at you, he noticed your reaction and smirked, he sighed and questioned unsurely.

"Still up for it?" you faced him as he now stands in front of you, towering your height as he leans on to the door frame. "I don't second guess my decisions."

whisper and he pulls you inside, pushing you to close the door, his palm held around your wrist tightly, he begins by pressing his lips on your bare neck. his lips were warm against your cold skin, that let him easily melt against you while your hands wrapped around his neck, pushing him down for more, to be harder. a kisser as good as him, makes you crave this more, that excites you as this is just the beginning.

On the other hand, he could not stop tasting you with his tongue swirling around the nape of your neck, finding your sweet spot that he got in a few seconds. allowing your moans to spill out, he groaned against you when he heard your voice. pressing a few kisses after he had left his mark on you, he held your wrist and walked you over to the bed.

you sit on it, looking up at him while he looks down at you. his eyebrow raises, letting you know what he needs, his finger gestures you to take off your clothes so you do, letting the shoulders fall off, when your hand goes behind to unzip it, he pauses you and grew closer to you, his face on your shoulder as he lets his breath fan you while he unzips it. you push it off your body, letting you rest with the lace black lingerie you had worn.

he could feel himself drooling, he eyes wandering around your body so without wasting any more time, he removes his coat and throws it away, then about to unbutton his shirt when you push his hand aside. you slowly began to unbutton for him, this gave him the wonderful opportunity to check you out more, seated on the bed, with your perfectly toned abs. you looked like a masterpiece, a piece he's never seen before, never had he seen a woman this perfect with the most mesmerising features. you threw away his shirt, taking the moment to admire his chest.

fuck, he even has tattoos that decorates his right arm arm. its captivating, distracting you with his canvas that explains his individual touch and unique stories, you want him to tell you about it but now's not the time, especially when he reminds you that you're here for sex. he looks at your eyes, wondering why i've paused, then he sees it.

you're interested in his tattoos, that had him chuckling. "shall we begin, darling?" you looked up at him, then with a smirk and a nod you placed your index finger into your mouth, wetting it with your eyes locked with his. you stroked the man's hard chest,

the man who was confused a few seconds ago, now had his eyes closed as he threw his head back, moaning as he feels his insides heating up and clenching, he felt himself grow, he loved the boldness, he never truly admired dom females but today, you. he thinks he would never get over this or find someone better.

"fuck me?"

you ask, softly, looking up at him with big round doe eyes that made him weak, he wanted to drop on his feet and beg you to fuck him but he didn't. he let himself smirk as he bent down to meet your face, leaving centimeters apart, gently he caressed your chin with his finger and then he hovered over you, slowly pushing you down on bed until you met with the silk sheets, that rubbed against your bare back.

"With pleasure, darling...." he whispers as he sucked on your ear lobe while he pushed himself inside you without any warnings, allowing whimpers and muffled moans that leave from your lips.....

"I'm late! I'm late, shit shit."

You woke up to the yelling of the alarm clock that had tried its best to wake you up 30 minutes ago. now showing 7;46 am. in its display. You're supposed to be at the office at 8.

No way you're late on your first day. It's certainly not your first day of work, but it's still your interview, and there's no way you could miss this opportunity. Working as a head graphic designer is all that you need. It's what you've been dying for,

You've been doing multiple jobs to make a living, but there's something you've always been good at and that's been designing and advertising. What's all the qualifications and degrees for if you can't work at what you're best at. And plus this job's description has exactly what you're looking for, so you need this job, it's a need.

It's a blessing that the building is not too far from your apartment. You took a seat in front of the ceo's room. You've been there before as some of the staff reviewed you. Hence, you're under the shortlist.

And now's the big moment, interviewing with the CEO himself because he wants to recruit the best workers for his company, and that means they have to meet his expectations.

So he takes this in his hands. You were nervous, shaking your leg vigorously, and your sweaty hands had left imprints on your files.

"Ms Lee Y/n?"

"Yes, that's me."

"You've been called in." The woman dressed in a black skirt and a white silk shirt spoke kindly to you, leading your way to the CEO's room.

She opened the door, allowing you to walk inside, for which you thanked her, and she left, giving you a bow. you clicked your heels as you walked towards the man who was seated on his luxurious office chair that had its back turned towards you. "Take a seat."

He demanded as he twirled his chair to meet the face of his applicant, with his sheet of papers and pen between his fingers. your eyes widened at the vision of the man in front of you, parting your lips and breathing, only getting heavy with the time passed. the CEO didn't meet you until he had no response from you. He raised his eyebrows, then took his eyes off the paper to meet yours, and he paused. "You?"

He muttered, and you immediately blinked multiple times, looking everywhere else except his eyes. There is no way he is the one. There's no fucking way that your one night stand turned out to be the CEO of the company you applied to. fuck.

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porcelainseashore · 11 days

Text

Into the Ether (12)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Authors' Note: Smut including blood drinking, and some violence ahead.

Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer @delulusimps ❤️‍🔥

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Chapter 12: This Ready Flesh

His vision was blurry, tunneling in and out as he struggled to focus on the pavement in front of him. The street lights flickered, his retina capturing them in a mesmerizing delay, creating luminous streaks and trails across the sky. It had been ages since Leon had gotten into such a state where he couldn’t walk straight anymore, shambling in a zigzag pattern towards his destination. At least he still knew where he wanted to go — to you. It was all he could think about as he staggered into Café Noir, calling out your name while the other patrons delivered wary side glances.

In his inebriated haze, he stumbled through the crowd until he came across a figure he vaguely recognized. Grabbing the person by the collar, he sputtered, “Patrick, right?”

The young man nodded timidly, trying to back away, though Leon clung onto him firmly. “Where is she?”

He could even smell the strong stench of alcohol on his own breath as he spoke. The vessels he had drunken from earlier must have been completely wasted. He should know, since they had already passed out when he got to them. It was probably pure vodka running through their veins at this rate.

“Sh-she already left an hour ago,” Patrick stammered, cowering slightly in fear.

Jesus Christ, what did this boy ever do to you? Leon sighed. He was scaring people unintentionally, looking all crazed with his bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair. He didn’t even need a mirror to confirm that. What a fucking mess.

Right on cue, he saw the ponytailed redhead come into view, and she looked pissed. Great job, Leon, he berated himself. Now he was gonna get his ass kicked. But he deserved it. He deserved all of it.

“I’ll handle it from here,” she told Patrick calmly, before turning back to Leon with a deadly glare.

Dragging him by the arm over to a free table in one of the more private corners of the room, she shoved him onto a chair and ordered, “Stop terrorizing the locals.”

“Hi to you too, Redfield,” he mumbled despondently, slumping over with a hiccup before catching himself with his supporting arm.

Claire stabilized him, shaking her head disapprovingly as she sat in the opposite chair. “You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. On a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you right now?”

When he didn’t answer, she scolded, “Not a good look, Kennedy.”

“Yeah? What’s it to you, Claire?” he challenged, though his slurring made the words sound all jumbled together.

“Fuckin’ hell,” she cursed, tapping the side of his cheek rapidly, in a blind effort to get him to come to his senses. Finally, she came to a decision. “Okay, here's the deal. We’ll sit here until you sober up, and then, we’re gonna talk.”

Regardless, that didn’t prevent him from retorting, “Yes ma—”

“Shut it, Leon.”

It was an agonizing wait for the effects of the alcohol to dissipate, and it didn’t help that Claire kept throwing him dirty looks, warning him against trying anything funny. When he could finally string a proper sentence together without making a fool of himself, she spoke up, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and it’s your private business, but something tells me I need to step in before this blows up in everyone’s faces.”

“What do you mean?” He caught the underlying warning in her words and sensed there was more than what she was letting on.

Sighing, she knocked back a mouthful of beer before continuing. “Let’s… save that for later,” she negotiated. “What’s gotten into you? Hell, I’ve never seen you like this, ever.”

He pinched his lips together, reluctant to come clean with his emotions. But he knew he had no one else he could talk to like this. It was one thing he appreciated about Claire, even though her backhanded comments often grated on his nerves, she would always be straight with him. She just pretended to be begrudging about it.

“She’s gonna leave me,” he muttered.

Claire raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. “So… this is how Leon Scott Kennedy, the great knight in shining armor, wins back his ‘one true love’, huh?” She mimicked quotation marks with her fingers in the air, adding salt to the wound. “By getting trashed and moping around?”

In any other circumstance, he would’ve fought back in an instant, exchanging cutting remarks laced with hidden barbed wire. Now, however, he remained passive and compliant, like a doll. “I did something unforgivable,” he finally admitted.

She snorted, propping her legs up on the table. “Yeah, you’ve done a lot of unforgivable things. We all have,” she emphasized.

Leaning forward, she prodded his chest with her finger accusingly. “You left us without a reason, no goodbye, nothing, and yet, Chris and I are still here, aren’t we?” She paused, taking a moment to recollect herself, and rolled her eyes. “God, that was soppy. Just, er, fuck— rewind and erase that shit, will ya?”

Leon bit his lip, suppressing a laugh. “Sure, whatever you say, Claire.”

“Anyway, your fledgling is beginning to realize and understand that there’s no perfect little world for Kindred like us,” she began.

“Of course, she would run off to you Anarchs of all people,” Leon huffed, clicking his tongue in disdain. “She’s been collecting all sorts of injuries from the gym.”

She sat up straight, folding her arms across her chest in pride. “Thanks to Chris’ training.”

He groaned, burying his head in his hand.

“You have it bad for her—”

“I don’t—” he protested, though she interrupted him in return.

“She talks about you, you know?” At this, he fell silent and she added, “Not in a bad way.”

“What does she say?” he blurted out almost too quickly.

“You’ll have to ask her that yourself,” she replied coyly. “But I don’t think she’s over you yet.”

His heart swelled, though he tried to rein it in to prevent false hope from building up. After all, false hope was worse than having nothing to hope for.

“Just do me a favor, will ya?” she requested. “Don’t try to control her; it never works. Trust me, I know my kind when I see one.”

It was Leon’s turn to scoff, “You wish.” He knew you well. No matter how much of a rebel you were, you were a Toreador through and through.

“Now that I got your attention, we should move on to the serious topic I guess.” She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “There’s two things, which do you wanna hear first? The bad news or the bad news?”

“Claire…” he warned, his patience growing thin.

She placed her feet back down on the ground, unzipping her jacket to pull out a bunch of photographs from its inner pocket. Handing it over to him, she said, “I hate it whenever you’re right.”

“Get used to it,” he quipped back, shuffling through the pictures he assumed she had acquired from a bunch of surveillance cameras in the area. Then, he came across one that made him stop dead in his tracks.

Lucas. He was talking with someone, a tall figure with their back to the camera, obscured by a long cloak.

“A Sabbat member,” she clarified, pointing at Lucas’ image. “Turns out the suitor has been meeting with him regularly.”

“Shit,” he hissed. “You know this is a literal death sentence for the entire Anarch sect in Raccoon City, right? If Wesker finds out…” his voice trailed off as he witnessed Claire’s eyes watering up and her hands trembling. She knew the implications and she was scared.

“There’s something else though,” she stated, pushing forward despite her uneasiness.

Fishing out a separate photo from the stack, she held it before Leon. It was a zoomed-in version of the previous photograph. Tracing the outline of another shadowy figure in the background, she mentioned, “You see this here? There’s a third party involved, but we couldn’t make out who they were.”

Tightening his jaw, he promised, “I’ll keep this under wraps for now, but we need a plan, and we need it fast.” And then, he suddenly remembered. “What’s the other bad news?”

This seemed to make her even more unnerved, but she steadied herself and said, “The suitor has started taking an interest in your childe.”

His eyes gleamed lethally, already imagining the multitude of ways he would slice the guy into ribbons. “Who is this suitor?” he seethed, saliva foaming at his fanged teeth as his voice quivered in blistering rage.

She was mute, her eyes darted away from his, and her whole body was shaking. Something was very wrong.

“Claire!” He grasped her hands, both pleading and demanding, “I need to know!”

“The Baron,” she whispered, barely audible above the constant drone of background chatter.

His eyes widened. Like the Camarilla had their Prince, the Anarchs had their Baron. He’d just never expected such a big player to be involved. But then again, why wouldn’t he? Who would be as foolish and powerful enough to risk it all?

“Heisenberg.” The name flew out of his mouth like an omen.

━━━━━━━━━━━

“Come on, you know the drill,” Chris instructed, clapping his hands together to get you to move. “Four sets of jump rope, three minutes each, and for your one-minute breaks in between, push-ups.”

“And don’t forget to use your vitae!” he yelled over once more.

That was just the warm-up. You groaned, stretching out your limbs as you pushed yourself up from the floor to grab the skipping rope disgruntledly.

“Hey, winners never quit and quitters never win,” he advised before setting the timed alarms on his watch.

It took every ounce of effort not to roll your eyes at his clichéd motivational quote. At least you could see the progress you were making relatively quickly. Your feet went through the motions, your muscle memory intact as you began with a basic bounce, working your way into side straddles, hip twists and then alternating single leg jumps. You were light and nimble in your steps, just like you had to be when you got into your fight stance. It was like Mr. Miyagi’s teaching technique with “wax on, wax off.”

A beep sounded. You tossed the rope to the side and dropped into a plank position, channeling your energy through your flattened palms as you performed controlled, repetitive push-ups. Beads of sweat trickled down your forehead, dampening the dusty ground. Your hands and fingernails were caked with dirt.

Another beep, and you sprung up, huffing as you took the rope and continued with high knee jumps. Your heart was pounding against its cage, and you felt like you wanted to die from exhaustion, but you pushed on. At some point, you broke through an invisible wall, and your body accepted the strain, no longer fighting against it. It was then where you had the headspace to think.

The past days you had free were spent mostly with the Anarchs, so much so that you felt more aligned with them than the Camarilla. You wondered if they secretly knew and were spying on you all this while, ready to dole out your punishment when it was time to face the consequences. For some odd reason, you had a hunch that someone had been watching you recently, but every time you tried to suss out the culprit, they had vanished from sight.

Despite favoring Anarch company, the insight you’d gained into their practices made you realize that they still had the same bullshit hierarchies and politics like the Camarilla, just a little flatter and more equal on the surface. It wasn’t perfect, but it seemed like the lesser of two evils to you.

Beep. Guess it was back to push-ups. Your sweat had begun to form a puddle beneath you and it stung your eyes. Halfway there, you told yourself. Not much longer to go. You’d talked to Chris and Claire about Leon, asking them how he was like when he still hung out with them, during the time he was somewhat a part of the sect. They’d told you many stories of his bravery and courage, putting others first before himself, but also how entangled he was in the mysterious deals he had with Ada and the rest of the Camarilla. It seemed as if he had no way out of them.

“Why?” you’d asked.

“If this is the world he’s been exposed to, how would he know any different until someone or something challenges it?” Claire had proposed.

“His sire, Ada, is a…” Chris paused to consider his words before settling on “transactional woman.” He shrugged. “She probably taught him deals like that are inevitable.”

The same advice as she had tried to impart to you. If someone who was deemed as your superior repeated these teachings again and again, at some point, they could become the truth.

“We’re not excusing Leon for what he’s done,” Claire was quick to correct him. “Just trying to explain it in context.”

Beep. “Speed up!” Chris shouted, and you knew that he wanted you to train your Celerity. Faster than a blink, you took up the rope and completed the routine as swift as lightning. The rest of the sets went by in a blur as you thought about one person only — Leon.

The blue of his eyes, the color of the sea, changing into gold. It reminded you of the Mediterranean, back during one of your travels. The light of the sun glittering on the water’s surface, shifting into the sand dunes of the desert. You felt his presence then; faint, sorrowful and alone, just as he felt yours. A ghostly hand reached out, and you lost your balance, tripping on the rope and landing flat on your face.

“Better luck next time, kid,” Chris grunted, helping you up by your arm, as you wiped away the blood from the graze on your knee.

Leon. You had a sudden urge to speak with him after behaving like strangers since your falling out. As much as you told yourself it was to reconcile and meet Rebecca as a united front, you’d be lying if you insisted there wasn’t something more. Want and longing, like an empty glass discarded in the sink. You’ll talk with him tonight, you determined. However, fate had other plans for you first.

You were shadowboxing in the gym’s ring while Chris barked out directions from the sidelines. At some point, you noticed the expression on his face darken and his body stiffen. He started making his way over to you with an instinctive sense of protectiveness.

An imposing silhouette loomed over you and you stopped abruptly, spinning around to face a tall, robust man with long, unkempt graying hair. He wore a wide-brimmed fedora hat and a beige trench coat over his attire. Round wire-framed glasses covered his eyes but did nothing to hide the bold smile across his face. He scratched at his rugged beard before taking a long drag from his fat cigar.

“Well, well, sugar. How nice of you to visit,” he remarked, puffing out a waft of smoke as he released the cigar from his mouth, planting it between his thumb and index finger.

“Baron,” Chris greeted. He was standing beside you now, tersely grasping your shoulder, suggesting caution.

In his other hand, the man held a metallic cane, rigid and bladed at the sides, its handle adorned with a carved horse figure. The cane clinked every time it touched the ground as he walked towards you, seemingly heavier than it looked. He didn’t lean or rely on it like he had an injury, merely tapping it lightly with each step forward. When you focused closer on the mechanical contraptions, you could tell that it concealed a secondary weapon of sorts.

“Oh, no need for formalities.” He waved his hand dismissively. “We’re all comrades here.”

With a courteous bow, he tipped his hat at you, acknowledging your presence. “Heisenberg,” he proffered, stubbing out the cigar with his boot as he extended his gloved hand to you.

Despite the unsettling atmosphere, you took his hand and shook it firmly like you always do. Might as well fake it until you make it. He raised his eyebrows, grinning at you like a maniac, nodding in appreciation at your dauntlessness.

“So, sugar, how do you like what you see so far?” He raised his hands, rotating in a slow, deliberate circle, as he gestured to the surroundings and the Kindred who’d quietened down since his arrival.

“It’s nice,” you answered flatly, keeping your responses vague and to a minimum until you could better ascertain what he wanted from you.

“I always knew you’d belong to us.” Though with the way he said ‘us’, it sounded more like ‘me’. You caught a glimpse of recognition in Chris’ eye and your suspicions about the man in front of you were confirmed with his next sentence.

“Too bad that Toreador dickhead had to ruin my plans,” he sneered. Clamping his hand on your shoulder dramatically, he continued, “This has been a real party and all, but why don’t you come back to our base? Make yourself at home?”

Heisenberg was the suitor. The one who wanted to use you for his own gain and power. He made your skin crawl.

“Baron—” you saw Chris attempt to plead your case only to be cut off by him.

“Dammit, Chris, I swear to god!” he bellowed, slamming his cane so violently on the ground that you were afraid it would break. Then, in a complete switch, he became almost dainty, whispering with a light flourish, “For the last time… it’s Heisenberg.”

The man was unhinged. You didn’t know who was worse: Wesker or Heisenberg. But you needed to get the fuck out of there.

“Maybe another time,” you proposed, backing away, though that only caused his grip on you to tighten. “I really should get going.”

“Why? What’s the hurry?” he questioned in an odd sing-song before mockingly commenting, “Will your sire be worried?”

“Heisenberg.” The unmistakable voice of the man in question resonated throughout the room, penetrating the dense silence. You heaved a sigh of relief, never having been happier to hear it.

The Baron finally released you, but not without mumbling in your ear, “This isn’t over yet.”

“Oh, Leon!” he greeted in a sickeningly sweet tone. “We were just talking about you! Always the thorn in my side, huh?” He laughed at his own joke, but no one else joined in.

It didn't take long for Leon to catch up to where you were standing, positioning himself between you and Heisenberg. His steely countenance peered down at you briefly before he looked back at the Baron. From behind, you saw Claire slowly walking over to join her brother.

“You heard the lady,” Leon stated. “She wishes to leave.”

At this, there was a fleeting tick in Heisenberg’s cheek, his smile faltering as his lips twitched ever so slightly, betraying his obvious irritation at Leon’s words. Suddenly, there was a loud swish and an electric crack in the air, as the cane he was carrying turned into a whip, which he lashed across the ground. It landed mere centimeters away from Leon’s face, but he didn’t even flinch, staring Heisenberg down with a cold glare.

“Think you’re real tough, don’t you, boy?” Heisenberg spat.

However, Leon remained as calm and elegant as ever. You wondered how many times he’d practiced for this very moment. Motioning to you, he mentioned, “Correct me if I’m wrong, Heisenberg, but my childe here still remains part of the Camarilla.” Turning back to face the Baron, he delivered his final line like an arrow hitting its mark, “And if it comes to it, we will protect our own.”

For a split second, Heisenberg was stumped, but masked it with a ridiculing chuckle. “Is that a threat?” Without waiting for Leon to answer, he offered his hand to you. “Last chance, sugar.”

You ignored it, making your decision to take Leon’s instead, interlacing your fingers with his as you squeezed his palm. He squeezed back and smiled weakly.

“Your funeral,” Heisenberg huffed, disappointment and wounded pride clearly marking his face.

Together, you exited the gym hand-in-hand, narrowly escaping Heisenberg’s wrath unscathed, while numerous pairs of eyes watched you from the sides.

━━━━━━━━━━━

After the chivalrous display Leon had put on in your previous encounter with the Baron, you didn’t expect such a severe scolding from him the minute you stepped into his apartment.

“Wanna tell me what the hell that was back there?” he berated. “You’re being too reckless hanging out so openly with the Anarchs!”

A mixture of hurt and confusion flashed across your face as you shot back, “Yeah? Maybe you should take a good look at yourself in the mirror, Leon, considering that you used to be one of them!”

“Who told you that?” he snapped, backing you into a corner of the room. “Was it Chris—? No, Claire?”

You shoved him off roughly, shouting, “You have no right to judge! What have you been doing this whole time, huh? Fuck all!”

He looked away from you in embarrassment before turning back with a blazing fire in his eyes, his mouth writhing with manic fury. “I’ve been watching you, making sure you were safe, and you think I’ve done nothing?!”

You let out a harsh, hollow laugh in his face. “So, it was you? Stalking me like a fucking creep!”

He ground his teeth, jaw clenching so hard that you could see his muscles straining under the effort. “I don’t want to be ordered by the Prince to destroy you.”

“What did you say?!” you blurted out in bewilderment, grabbing his collar and slamming him into a nearby wall. Visible cracks emerged behind him along the plaster, spreading like spiderwebs. He whimpered in pain, but you continued pressing him in. “Are you threatening me?” you asked, your voice laced with grief and betrayal.

“No, never— I would never do that to you.” It came out like a cracked whisper. “If you step out of line, he will ask me to. But I would much rather be destroyed in your place,” he admitted.

So, was that why he kept trying to ‘control’ you? You were overcome with a sudden onslaught of emotions, and you didn’t know what to trust anymore.

“Liar!” you screamed, an insurmountable rage surging through your blood as you hurled him against a glass coffee table. It smashed into smithereens, and he struggled to get up as the shards nicked his hands and body. Blood spilled onto the floor like a murder scene.

You bolted over, still overcome with frenzied anger, as you pinned him to the ground, pummeling his face while yelling, “I hate you! I fucking hate your guts! What you did to me, what you did to Sherry! You fucking monster! I wish you were d—”

You paused, realizing what you were about to utter and knowing that deep down that you didn’t mean anything you had just said. But the damage was already done. A pang of guilt seeped into your chest and it convulsed as you choked out uneven sobs. Your hands were trembling and covered in scarlet red, and your breath hitched as you peered at Leon’s bloodied and bruised face. He’d been cut up real bad, his nose was broken and his cheeks were puffed up like a balloon. However, he didn’t fight back, accepting every punch and insult you threw at him, like he deserved it.

“Do it,” he croaked, blood dribbling down the sides of his mouth. It almost seemed as if he wanted you to put him out of his misery.

“No, no, no, I—” You shook your head furiously, staring at your reddened palms and started crying.

Your head fell forwards onto his chest, weeping into his stark white shirt, now ruined with blood and tears. A hand came to rest on your back, rubbing it reassuringly in circles, while the other carded through your hair. Even though he was the one suffering, he still took upon himself to comfort you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” you repeated like a prayer, but he hushed you gently.

It was then that you gave in. You’d seen who he was laid bare entirely before you. A monster with his skeletons exposed, and yet, you loved him. You loved him so much your heart would burst.

Holding him close, you moved him away from the broken glass and onto the rug — a new replacement for the one you had bled out on. You touched his face delicately with your fingertips; it was wet and sticky. Why wasn’t he mending himself? You wanted to kiss away his wounds and the pain. He stayed still, eyeing you curiously, waiting to see what you would do. A small gasp fell from his lips as you took your fingers into your mouth, tasting him whole. It was divine, just as you remembered, like figs and honey, and you had the insatiable desire for more.

“I want you, Leon,” you breathed. “Every part of you.”

At this, he drew in, taking your lips with his own urgently. You kissed back, matching it with a similar level of desperation, like both of you were famished. Parting your lips, you allowed his tongue to slip in to caress yours, swirling against it tantalizingly, as blood and saliva dripped from his mouth into yours. You lapped it up ardently, as though you didn’t want to waste a single drop.

The nuances of his taste became clearer. A hint of leather, oak and spice, and at times, subtle notes of vanilla and whiskey, making you feel as if you were a sommelier. Perhaps these were the flavors he had enjoyed when living. Fire coursed through your veins as you straddled him, pressing your scorching body against his. He groaned at the contact, bucking his hips into yours feverishly.

Both of you continued in the same rhythm, moaning each time his erection rubbed against your pelvis. Giddy and heady from the high, you clawed at his shirt, clumsily tearing through the fabric and sending its buttons flying across the room. He responded in kind, ripping open the clothes you’d been wearing, unable to wait any longer.

His heated gaze dragged along your naked body, admiring it in reverence, as if you were a goddess that he worshiped the very ground you stood on. Planting wet, open-mouthed kisses from your neck to your breast, he murmured, “I need you, angel.” His hot breath fanning against your skin, causing you to shudder in delight. “Please, let me taste you.”

“Anything you want,” you rasped, tangling your hands in his hair. “I’m all yours.”

A low, guttural growl rumbled from his chest, so unlike him that you wondered if you had awakened the sleeping Beast with your words. He took his time, cupping your breasts in his hands as his tongue flicked over one nipple and then the other. Latching onto it with his mouth, he suckled it, increasing the pressure as you twitched in response. You surrendered yourself entirely to him, allowing him to do as he pleased with your body.

He held your gaze as you watched his teeth sink in, puncturing the soft flesh of your breast. The sharp, prickly sting turned into that euphoric thrill you’d subconsciously craved for ever since the first time he’d tasted you. He drank from you a little before leaving the site, grazing your skin with his searing lips they traveled downwards. The first mark was left open and bleeding, just like the rest of the marks he would make. It was his way of showing the world that he had claimed you. You would let him devour you if you could.

His mouth paused at the side of your ribs and he made his second mark, the sensitivity of the spot causing your body to jerk suddenly, but he grasped the fat of your hips, holding you down as you whined. Blood flowed from the wound as if you’d been pierced in the side by a lance, and yet you begged, “More, please, more…”

The final mark he made on you in this round came when he reached your pussy, aching and sore for his touch. He licked your clit eagerly, sealing his lips around it as his fingers brushed against your folds, teasing the entrance before slipping in easily. Moans spewed out from your mouth as he continued sucking hard on your clit and curling his fingers against your spongy walls. At some point, he replaced them with his tongue, dipping and thrusting hungrily into your slit. His fingers glistened with your arousal all the way up to his knuckles, and you brought them into your mouth, soaking in the intoxicating aroma of sweat, lust and love. He hummed, taking the opportunity to bite into your mound, filling himself up with more of your essence as you threw your head back and gasped his name.

Coming up for breath, he peered at you beneath him. The carmine traces coating his lips like red-stained roses, and the scent and taste of your blood lingered in his very soul. He’d seen three separate memories of you with every mark, each more personal than the last, but no less beautiful. You looked truly holy like this, with your blissed out face and blown out eyes, your lips flushed and swollen. A moist sheen covered your body and your breasts quivered from your ragged breathing. He loved how he could do this to you. If he could, he would crown you as his sweet Mary, Isis, Ishtar, or any other form the saint and deity came in, bathing you in swathes of Marian blue and gold, and laying jewels at your feet. As the sanguine fluid trickled down your cunt like a virgin’s first time, he realized that for once, you were his, and solely his.

His wounds healed up in the process, good as new again, but you reached out, teary-eyed, cradling his face in your hands as you pressed your foreheads together. You never wanted to hurt him, and he never wanted to hurt you either. However, the pain still remained, like heavy stones crushing against your chest. He had already forgiven you, kissing you tenderly and stroking your cheek until you pulled away abruptly.

“Fuck me,” you sighed, like a thin wisp of smoke drifting into his waiting mouth. “Fuck me right here on the floor.”

The same floor where your life had drained away into the ether, the same floor where he had made that fateful decision to Embrace you, and the same floor where both of you had envisioned this very moment before it even happened. You needed him to fuck you rough and fast, just so you could forget and engrave this memory in your heart simultaneously.

He heard it in your voice and understood, obliging as he peeled off the rest of his clothes, pushing you forward onto the ground, so that your front lay flat against its laminated surface. You felt him guide the tip of his cock against your pussy, smearing precum along your folds before burying himself to the hilt. He didn’t hesitate or hold back, pounding into you vigorously from behind without giving you the chance to adjust to his size. You mewled in agonizing pleasure as he grasped your ass, spreading it apart so he could penetrate deeper. Your skin rubbed raw against the hard floor, bones bruising against wood as you scratched scars into its layers.

With every sharp thrust your body jolted forwards, his balls slapping against your skin as he gritted out, “Fuck, angel, you just take it so well.”

“How much have you wanted me like this?” you asked impulsively, your voice strained as you rutted back into him in sync with his unrelenting pace, feeling the head of his cock hitting your cervix.

His dick throbbed at your question. A hand came up and pushed your head down, squishing your face into the floor. “God, I— think about bending you over and making you scream—” he panted. His tone turned feral and inhuman like you’d never heard before as he slammed his hips against your ass to punctuate each word, “Every. Fucking. Night.”

Screams tore from your throat until your voice became hoarse, and scalding tears gathered at your waterline before splashing onto the ground. Yet, something savage and animalistic, akin to what he had shown earlier, emerged from the depths of your chest. “Leon, please,” you keened. “Fuck me harder.”

Wrapping his arm around your neck, he leaned forward, placing his full body on top of you so that his chest was pressed flush against your back. Rocking his hips into yours, he fucked you so deep that you felt him in your ribcage. Instinctively, you plunged your fangs into his arm, breaking skin, as he hissed a string of curses before doing the same, clamping down on your neck. You drank from each other, consuming and mixing vitae as he continued pistoning into your cunt. Veins protruded from your neck and your eyes turned bloodshot, rolling back into your head. The excruciating euphoria you’d experienced from your Embrace returned, flooding your senses, and the visions began.

You saw the human life he’d led: a first and last date at the drive-in cinema where he’d fumbled with a cute girl, the all-nighters he’d pulled cramming for exams, his glasses sliding down the slope of his nose as he nodded off to sleep. Then came glimpses of his life and unlife with Ada: how they’d fallen in and out of love, the way he’d been brought to his highest highs and reduced to his lowest lows. You felt for him in those moments, wanting nothing more than for his happiness to shine through, even at the expense of your own.

The images blended together like a watercolor painting, and you smelled the sand and sea. Two figures skinny-dipping, copulating by the waters, and again in the middle of a sandstorm. Your bodies melded into one and you were drawn back into your sweet release, both of you crying each other’s name on your lips. His hips stuttered, stuffing spurts of his cum into your cunt, the excess leaking between your thighs.

You stayed like this for an eternity before he pulled out, turning you around to face him as you lay side by side. He nuzzled your neck, kissing you affectionately. Blood caked your faces and streamed down your bodies.

“Messy drinker,” he chided softly, though his eyes were loving and warm. He licked all around your mouth, cleaning up the vermilion stains.

“I learned from the best,” you retorted, smirking as you caressed his jawline.

He scoffed, kissing your temple as he nestled you into his arms — a perfect fit. “You know I’m never letting you go after this?”

“Didn’t plan on leaving anyway,” you murmured into his chest, feeling his smile widen against your cheek.

I love you. He didn’t need to hear your confession to know that you meant every single word.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #vampire au #vampire the masquerade #vtm #crossover #fic: into the ether #porcelainscribbles

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cupid-styles · 10 months

Text

honey dove*

Harry has finally made Daisy his sunshine girl, but not everything is as sweet as can be.

70s!harry and virgin!fmc | Content warnings: outdated views on the LGBTQ+ community (including a coming out scene), drugs, a smidge of angst that's quickly resolved, smut! (losing virginity, dirty talk)

Word count: 6.3k

Part one | Part two | Series masterlist

Daisy is ready to lose her virginity.

It just so happens that everything around her went to shit last week, so the odds of it happening anytime soon are pretty much slim to none. And she's frustrated.

She knows she's being selfish, but can you blame her? She's officially going steady with the guy of her dreams, the one she's been drooling over for years, assuming she had zero chance with him since 1973.

She's so happy — she adores Harry and it seems like the feeling's mutual if his constant kisses and compliments are anything to go off of. Two days ago, on Daisy's day off from the record store, he popped by her apartment with a bouquet of sunflowers (her favorites) before he headed into work. She wanted to jump his bones right then and there, but she had to settle for a few dopey, lovesick kisses in an effort not to make him late.

And although it's been a week since Harry asked if she would be his girl (she's still swooning over it), it's also been a week since Willow spoke to either of them.

If Daisy hadn't seen what she did at the party, she would be more confused about why Willow seemed to be hiding out from them. She feels guilty that Harry is all but ripping his hair out every day, assuming she's giving them the cold shoulder because of their newfound relationship, but Daisy refuses to reveal such an impactful secret to him. She knows it's not her place so instead, every time her and Harry hang out, she tries her best to comfort or distract him.

On Monday night, they hit the drive-in movie theater to see A Star Is Born. It's usually the type of place that you go to makeout or having messy car sex, but Harry stayed slumped in the drivers seat the whole night, picking at the bag of popcorn he bought Daisy.

On Tuesday, Daisy made them dinner at her apartment and they watched a few episodes of Charlie's Angels. Harry curled up in her lap while she played with his hair, eventually falling asleep there. The following morning, she woke up to a kiss planted on her cheek and a promise to call her later tonight.

Daisy worked the closing shift on Thursday night so he met her at Sam's to walk her home. She offered for him to stay over, but he seemed eager to go home, giving a short explanation that he hadn't seen Willow in two days and was worried about her. Daisy understood that — how could she not? — but she also couldn't hide the disappointment on her face (hence Friday morning's flowers).

Daisy wakes up curled against Harry's back on Saturday morning. Rays of sunshine are streaming through his windows, basking the room is a warm glow. It's something she's always loved about San Diego after living in a near constant forecast of rain in Seattle for the first 18 years of her life.

She can feel Harry breathing, his back expanding in steady puffs of air. She wraps her form around him even tighter, wishing he could stay as peaceful as he is right now. The second he blinks his eyes open, though, she knows he'll feel Willow's absence in the apartment, and his chest will constrict with anxiety before 9 am.

Sighing, Daisy presses a chaste kiss to the shell of his ear. She contemplates slipping out to get them breakfast from Harry's favorite dinner two streets over — surely that'll be a nice thing to wake up to, and then maybe they can lounge around his room all day, ducking out onto the fire escape to share joints while they trade between disco and rock albums.

She thinks it's a nice way to spend a bright September day, and so she slowly begins to peel her body away from his, careful in ensuring she doesn't wake him up. After Harry's confession about loving when she wears his things, she chooses to keep his Fleetwood Mac shirt on and pulls on the pair of shorts she wore last night. Quietly, she tiptoes out of the bedroom, closing the door gently behind her. As she's sliding her Keds on, her head snaps up when she hears the familiar sound of the front door unlocking. At another point in time, Daisy loved hearing it, knowing that Willow was on the other side. Today, her stomach bubbles in anxiety for the very same reason.

Sure enough, an exhausted looking Willow appears, slamming the door shut once she's kicked her sandals off. She snorts when she sees Daisy standing there still as a statue and brushes past her in the direction of the kitchen.

"Hey," Daisy attempts to greet, following her. "What's up? I haven't seen you in ages."

Willow shrugs her shoulders as she grabs an apple from the fruit bowl, turning to rinse it off in the sink, "Not much. You?"

She tries not to cower at the aggressive tone Willow's using, instead pushing forward. She's determined to get things back to how they used to be — she wasn't willing to lose Willow or Harry, and it hurt her to see them both in pain.

"Nothing really," Daisy replies, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "Um, Harry has been really worried about you, Will. We both have... where have you been?"

Willow rolls her eyes and bites the apple, leaning back against the kitchen counter with a bored expression on her face.

"You two are so far up each other's asses it's actually sick."

A pang of pain rushes through Daisy's body, her knees wobbling slightly at Willow's harsh words.

"That's not fair. I'm sorry if you're not happy we're dating, but we really like each other and we don't want things to change—"

"I don't give a hoot if you two are going steady, Daisy. What I care about is my brother thinking he's so much better than me because he's dating someone. He's always talking crap about no one wanting me and it's just not true, alright? Just butt out!"

"Willow, I saw you last weekend." Daisy says, her lips pressed together in a tight line. "With that girl. Reina, right? I saw you guys kissing."

Willow's eyes immediately widen but she backtracks nearly instantly, shaking her head. "You're out of your mind. You were probably too spaced out and thought you saw something you didn't."

"I wasn't. I got up at like 3 am to go get some water and I saw you two leaving your room. I watched her kiss you before she left," Daisy explains as she nervously wrings her hands out behind her, "Willow, I don't care what your sexuality is or who you're dating, I just want you to be happy—"

"You told Harry, then?" She asks with a stoic face.

"What?"

"You told him. He's your boyfriend and you told him and that's why he hasn't talked to me all week."

"Willow— I... no, of course not," Daisy shakes her head, "No, I didn't tell him. Honest. I kept it to myself... I don't think that's the kind of thing he should hear from me. He's been worried sick about you and hasn't been himself. He's desperate to talk to you."

With furrowed eyebrows, Willow chews slowly. "I've been... avoiding you both. I saw you that night. I knew you saw and I just assumed you went straight to him. I figured... it's kinda like you two against me now, y'know?"

Daisy immediately shakes her head, her heart cracking slightly at the thought that she would ever abandon Willow. She's been her rock since they met in the restaurant all those years ago, long before Harry came into the picture.

"It'll never be like that," Daisy says at she steps closer to the brunette, "He has no idea, but he's so worried, Will. He's still sleeping if you wanna talk to him one-on-one..."

Willow presses her lips into her mouth, a look of discomfort taking over her features.

"Or we can go get breakfast if you haven't eaten yet! There's no rush to tell him anything. I won't say anything. I promise."

She smiles gratefully and nods, straightening her posture. "I'll tell him today. Can we just get some flapjacks first?"

Aside from agreeing to be Harry's girl, it's the easiest yes Daisy has ever said.

. . .

When Harry wakes up, it's to the sound of giggling girls in the apartment.

He instantly recognizes the voices — they belong to his girlfriend and his sister, but he hasn't heard them chorused together in weeks. It's an immediate relief, like warm sunshine washing over his body. It means that Willow's home and maybe, just maybe, she's made up with Daisy, making him one step closer to having his little sister back in his life.

Harry fumbles as he climbs out of bed, eager to see Willow after days away from home. He pulls on a pair of pants over his briefs and ambles out of his room, past the kitchen and to the living room. Their conversation pauses and Daisy flashes him a small but hopeful smile.

"Hey," he greets, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his corduroy trousers, "You're home."

Willow nods, smiling tightly. "Yeah. Ran into Daisy this morning when I got back and we talked a little."

"Yeah?" Harry asks, eyes darting between the two girls.

"Yeah," Willow echoes, "Um, I actually... I want to talk to you too, if that's alright."

"For sure, anything you need, Will," Harry replies, a bit over-enthusiastically. Daisy nods in encouragement and stands from the couch, motioning for him to take her spot.

"Do you want me here?" Daisy asks, ever so polite. Harry smiles to himself at the question and Willow nods quickly, biting her lip. She takes a seat on the navy blue shag rug, tugging her legs underneath her body.

Willow takes a deep breath and Harry's quiet, prepared to hear whatever she wants to tell him.

"Before I say this... I just want you to know that I get it if you don't approve or if you don't want to be in my life anymore. It's been really hard for me to come to terms with and I don't think I would be telling you if Daisy hadn't caught on... not because I don't trust you, but it's just... difficult, y'know?"

"Okay," Harry nods, reaching out to gently squeeze her knee, "You know I'll never judge you, Will, you're my baby sister."

"You haven't heard what I have to say yet, though."

"Are you part of the Manson Family?"

"No."

"Then there's nothing you could say that will make me love you any less."

Willow lets out a forced chuckle and sighs, closing her eyes. "Harry, I'm gay."

"Okay."

Her eyes widen, darting between Harry and Daisy for context.

"Okay?" she repeats, a confused look on her face.

"Yeah, okay," he shrugs. "I told you, there's nothing you could tell me that will make me love you any less. I don't care who you're attracted to as long as you're happy, Will. If that's a chick, then that's far out."

"You... you're not mad?"

"Course not," Harry shakes his head. "How could I be?"

"I dunno... I just thought..."

"We love you no matter what." Daisy cuts in with a small smile.

"So you won't care if I jive with girls at the disco?"

Harry chuckles, "As long as you don't complain every time I kiss Daisy."

"I can't promise that."

. . .

Willow's ecstatic that things finally feel normal again so naturally, she suggests the only thing she ever wants to do when she's celebrating something: go to the disco.

It takes a ridiculous amount of time for them to decide on a place to go — Willow wants to hit Inferno, while Harry is pushing Studio 90 because, according to him, the music is better. (Daisy and Willow know that's just code for, "they don't play that disco.")

In between calling Warren and Reina up to invite them out, Studio 90 is vetoed and Inferno is officially decided as the place to go. Harry pretends to be annoyed by this, but in reality, he feels twinges of excitement bubble in his belly, knowing that this is his first night out with Daisy with her officially being his.

And, if he's being honest, the only thing he can think about is finally sinking into her pussy after weeks of grinding and oral.

If they weren't so set on going out, he'd suggest heading back to Daisy's so he can spend an obscene amount of time between her thighs and fuck her into her mattress. But he can see how happy she is, and he doesn't want to ditch Willow, so he stays quiet. He smiles to himself as the girls rush around the apartment getting ready; Daisy borrowing a pink metallic mini dress with bell sleeves and matching knee-high boots. She's swiping glitter over her lids, leaning over the sink in the bathroom when Harry walks in, shutting the door behind him. She jumps when his hands make contact with her hips, giving them a small squeeze.

"You scared me." She pouts, directing her attention towards him in the mirror. He smirks and moves her long hair to the side, pressing a light kiss to the crook of her neck.

"Sorry," he mumbles against her skin, "You just look so precious running around in this cute little outfit. It's killing me not to just take you back to yours."

"What d'ya mean?" Daisy mutters out, occupied with fixing the fallen glitter on her eyelashes.

"I mean," Harry nips at her neck, moving up to the shell of her ear, "I'm dying to fuck you, Daisy. And if we weren't going out tonight, you would already be getting my cock like you've been begging for for the past two weeks."

Daisy's lips part at his words, dropping the eyeshadow brush in the sink. It clatters against the porcelain and she lets out an oh, turning to face him. He presses her flush up against it, searching for any inkling of discomfort. There isn't any.

"You... you wanna do it?"

He nods, leaning down slightly so they're eye level. "Of course I do, sunshine."

"Tonight?"

"Well, we're kind of busy tonight," Harry chuckles at her eagerness, intertwining their fingers together at her side. "But... maybe if you have some self-control... don't get too drunk and avoid any of that powder you like... maybe tonight."

Daisy pouts. "How am I supposed to have fun, then? Everyone around me will be skiing the slopes and totally spaced out."

"Not me," Harry replies easily, "I'll stay sober, too. If this is what you want, that is."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"You're not twisting my arm?"

"Why would I do that, sunshine?" Harry asks, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead, "I know we have fun together, but it's very important to me that we're fully present and sober for your first time. I want this to be special for you and I don't want anything to mess it up."

She nods her head, looking up at him with wide eyes. She looks nervous, but he can't blame her for that. Everyone puts so much pressure on losing your virginity. She knows she's been eager to do it for awhile now, but that doesn't erase the anxiety from it.

"Okay," Daisy says, breathing out, "Yeah, okay. We'll do it when we get back to my place tonight?"

"Sure, sunflower. You're allowed to change your mind at any point though, you dig?"

"Anytime?"

"Of course," Harry nods, his heart breaking slightly at her naivety, "Hasn't anyone taught you about consent, lovebug?"

Daisy shakes her head, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Alright, I'll give you a quick crash course so you're not worrying yourself to death all night. Even if you've already agreed to have sex with someone, you can say 'no' at any point and they are supposed to stop what they're doing. It doesn't matter what you're doing, where, or who it's with — no means no, Daisy. It works both ways, not just for girls, alright? That means that we don't have to do anything tonight, or if we start and you get uncomfortable, you can say no and that's it. You understand, dove?"

"What about... if, like, you're already inside of me? Wouldn't it... hurt you not to cum?"

"No, sweetheart. If you're uncomfortable, that's the number one concern. It doesn't matter. Anyone that tells you that is lying, okay?"

She nods slowly, allowing the words to sink in. "Okay. I think I get it."

Harry smiles gently and reaches up to gently stroke her cheek. "Sweetest girl. I can't wait to have fun with you tonight."

. . .

"More than a woman! More than a woman to meeee!"

Daisy cackles as Willow spins Reina on the dance floor. The Bee Gees are blasting courtesy of the DJ, colorful lights are flashing, and reflective shimmers from the disco ball above strobe across Daisy's sparkly dress. She leans back against Harry, who has a protective hand on her hip. He sways them back and forth to the beat, twisting Daisy's body so they're chest to chest. He's met with a grin, Daisy's eyes crinkled as she ducks her head back in a laugh.

"Y'having a good time, sunflower?"

She nods and lifts her hand to play with the curls at the nape of Harry's neck. "Are you?"

"Always with you." He smiles, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"You'll let me know when you're ready to cut out?" Daisy asks, leaning forward so he can hear her over the music.

"Sure. Are you in a hurry to leave?"

She rolls her eyes at his smirk, knowing that their planned end to the night has been on both of their minds since they arrived two hours ago. They're having a great time, enjoying the music and dancing with their friends, but Daisy would be lying if she said her panties weren't saturated with arousal already.

"Yeah, I am," Daisy bites, "I'm ready when you are, actually."

Harry raises his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"Mhmm."

"Remember our little talk about consent?" He asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek, "You can change your mind at any time, sunshine."

"I know, H." She says, squeezing their hands together.

"Alright then. Let's blow this popsicle stand."

They share a grin as they bid quick goodbyes to their friends. Willow is too occupied with Reina to say anything, and Warren's likely in the bathroom snorting lines off someone's chest. They're giggly as they find their way out of the club, the cool night air immediately rushing over their skin and ridding them of the sticky sweat they shed. Tonight, there's an energy between them that's unlike anything they've ever felt before, electric and fragile, but so exciting.

They don't talk much on the walk. Harry keeps their hands tightly entwined, periodically squeezing to remind her that he's there with her, and he cares so much. He gives her hand squeezes in increments of three, a secret language of adoration. You are safe.

Finally, they approach Daisy's apartment and Harry reaches into the pocket of his dark denim bell bottoms to pull out her house keys. She smiles graciously and unlocks the door, flicking some lights on as she walks through. Harry follows, as comfortable as ever, locking back up and kicking his sneakers off in the process.

She plops down on the couch with a sigh, suddenly feeling how uncomfortable her heeled boots and sequined dress are. Normally, at this point in the night, she's drunk enough not to notice the ache in her feet from dancing all night. She reaches down to pull at the zipper of her borrowed go-go boots until Harry appears above her, a lopsided smile painted over his lips.

"Want them off?" he asks, lowering to his knees.

"Yes, please," Daisy answers, swallowing harshly at the sight. He nods, thumbing the zipper between his fingers, the material slowly peeling away from her calves. She has faint marks below her knees from where they dug into her legs.

"You look so cute in these," Harry mumbles, pulling one off her foot. He switches to the left leg, following the same process as before.

"Do you like them on me?" She peeps out, looking down at him between her eyelashes.

"Love them on you," he mutters, her legs now free from the confides of the leather. He places his hands on her knees and slowly slides them up to the tops of her thighs. "Think I may ask you to keep them on for me one night. Be my own personal dancer, hm?"

Daisy shutters at the image, nodding as his hands meet the creases of her thighs, just below where her panties end.

"Can I take this off you too, dove?" Harry asks softly, giving her thigh a small squeeze.

"Mhm."

He smiles gently and lifts her bum up slightly, just enough to move the metallic fabric up her body. She holds her arms up as he rids her of her dress, leaving her in her usual undergarments; a cotton white bra and matching underwear.

"I would've gone shopping and tried to find something sexier if I'd known..." she breathes out, feeling self-conscious of her appearance. Harry's quick to shake his head, taking her chin in his palm.

"You look so beautiful," he says, making her face warm. "I don't want you to ever feel like you have to be something you're not."

Daisy nods as her heart constricts at his words. She's never felt so taken care of before, and not just in the physical sense. There isn't a single doubt going through her brain, especially when his large hands take ahold of her sides, pressing small kisses along her neck and down to her chest.

"Just wanna worship you tonight," Harry mumbles against her skin, sliding her bra straps down her shoulders. "Make you feel so good you can't even remember your own fuckin' name."

She whimpers at his words, her hands finding their way into Harry's curls. His lips latch onto her nipple before she can even realize he's made his way to her breasts; sucking, licking, and lightly nipping until she arches her back, leaning into his touch. He switches between each one, leaving them each swollen and hard with his spit.

"What do you need, Dais?" he asks, never ending his assault on her skin. He kisses down her stomach and over the waistband of her underwear, leaning her back against the couch. He knows that she's already so overwhelmed by his touch and it seems like some kind of cruel joke to ask her questions she can't answer.

"Tell me or you get nothing." Harry mutters, cupping her pussy with his warm hand. She gasps at the sudden sensation, her hole clenching around nothing.

"You," Daisy whimpers out, fluttering her eyes to find him between her thighs, his gaze set on the modesty between her legs. "D-don't care— just need you, H, please."

"Do you want my fingers or my tongue?" he presses, squeezing the tender skin beneath his grasp. He can feel her warm arousal underneath the fabric, knowing that she's been steadily dripping since they left his place hours ago.

"I don't know!" Daisy whines, bucking her hips up. Harry clicks his tongue and looks up at her, pouting his lip out as he takes in the desperate expression on her face.

"Poor baby," he murmurs, pressing her cheek to his other palm, "You're just dying for it, yeah? Told you I was gonna fuck your sweet peach forever ago and it's all you've been able to think about. I'm sorry, sunshine."

She sniffs and nods, blinking away the glossy look in her eyes. "Couldn't stop thinking about it at the disco. I was trying to focus on having a good time but I just wanted to go home with you all night."

"Okay, okay," Harry nods, hooking his fingers underneath her wet panties and pulling them down her legs, "I have to stretch you out before we do anything else, alright?"

"But—"

"But nothing, lovebug. Told you I was gonna take care of you and it'll hurt too much if I put my cock in this tight little pussy now."

Daisy nods and Harry smiles gently, pecking her lips. Wandering hands part her thighs, allowing him to comfortably fit between them as he slowly pushes his pointer finger inside, curling upwards to stroke the spongy spot that always makes her squirm. She's used to taking two of his fingers at most, but Harry plans to push her to three before he does anything. He knows he's relatively well-endowed and he's nervous about hurting her.

Her drippy hole welcomes his two fingers, wet and warm. He uses his thumb to rub right circles into her clit until she's rutting against him, grinding down onto his hand. He can tell that she's getting close by the way her moans have gotten louder and breathier.

"F-fuck, Harry," she whimpers, her muscles contracting at the orgasm rapidly approaching, "I'm gonna cum."

Harry nods and doubles down on his efforts. He wants at least one orgasm out of her so she's wet and swollen. When he glances down at the way her pussy is swallowing his fingers, he groans, suppressing the urge to lick up the arousal seeping from her hole.

"Cum for me, baby. Not gonna give you my cock until you cum all over my fingers," he instructs, her pussy squeezing him tight. She cums with a gasp, curses tumbling from her lips as he works her through it, until the only sound in the room is squelching fingers curling into her.

"Please," Daisy begs, moving her hands to her tits and squeezing them, "I want you. I'm ready."

Harry shakes his head, withdrawing his fingers from her messy hole. He's painfully hard in his jeans now, the rough fabric constricting his cock.

"Need you to take one more of my fingers, dove. Can you do that? Take three of them?"

"How many was that?" Daisy pants out, stilling in the afterglow of her orgasm.

"Two," he answers, unbuckling his pants for a semblance of relief. "Just one more, and then I'll give you my cock."

Daisy nods and reaches forward, cringing slightly at the wetness between her thighs. She tugs at his shirt and pulls it up and over his head, tossing it to the side.

"Greedy girl," Harry teases, making Daisy roll her eyes. "Gonna start again, alright? You don't have to cum if it's too much."

"Okay," she mumbles, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Still comfortable? Still okay with all of this?"

"Mhm. Are you?"

He smiles and nods, pressing a chaste kiss to her sweaty forehead. "Course. It's a dream come true, Daisy."

She's occupied by his closeness when he pushes two of his fingers back in, working her open just a little bit more. It's not uncomfortable by any means, but this is usually the point where Harry stops — if he's keen on giving her multiple orgasms, he'll switch between his fingers and mouth or having her grind on his thigh. He's never fingered her this much before and she can already feel the soreness seeping in. She chooses not to mention it though, knowing that if she says anything he'll want to stop.

When two fingers aren't as much of a squeeze anymore, he removes his hand and glances up to gauge Daisy's reaction. Her eyes are glazed over and fucked out with messy hair and sweaty skin.

"I'm gonna put a third in now," Harry murmurs, massaging the insides of her thighs, "Tell me if it's too much, okay?"

"Okay," Daisy breathes, nodding her head and leaning back against the couch cushion, as if she's bracing herself. He encourages her to relax her muscles by continuing his gentle massaging over her legs and up to her pussy, pressing circles into her swollen clit. Slowly, he uses his other hand and curls three fingers into her, watching her intently. It's a tight fit — he knows that without looking at her, and he can barely move with such limited space.

"Relax, baby," he mumbles, continuing to form loops around her sensitive pearl.

"I'm trying," Daisy says softly, her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"I'm gonna try to work them in a bit but tell me if it's too much."

She nods her head and he begins to move just the tiniest bit, pumping in and out. Gradually, her pussy starts to accommodate the space of his fingers and her body relaxes ever so slightly.

"Does it feel alright, sunshine?" Harry asks as he presses light kisses to the inside of her leg.

"Yeah," Daisy sighs, swallowing harshly, "F-feels full."

"Good full?"

"Mhm," she answers, bucking her hips to meet his movements, "Really good."

"Atta girl," Harry smirks, kissing up to the crease of her thigh, "Knew you could take it."

"Wanna take you, H." Daisy whines, biting down on her bottom lip.

"You feel ready, dovie?"

If Harry's being honest, he's nearly ready to burst in his underwear from this visual alone. Watching Daisy's pussy slowly open and swallow up his fingers was something he could only dream of. The thought of finally sinking his cock into her warm, wet hole has him trembling, constantly reminding himself that he has to take it slow with his sunshine girl.

Harry removes his fingers from her pussy, leaning down to press fluttering licks over her clit. She squeals out from the sensitivity and he chuckles at her reaction.

"Lemme just grab a rubber." He mutters, standing from his knees and digging into the pocket of his jeans, retrieving his wallet. He pulls a condom from the inside pocket and tugs his briefs down, his cock slapping up against his lower stomach. He pumps it a few times, resisting the urge to groan out loud as pre-cum blurts from the tip.

"Lay down for me," Harry instructs gently, rolling the condom on. Daisy nods and leans back against the length of the couch, fixing a pillow to support her neck. Slowly, he climbs over her body, pressing haphazard kisses along her soft skin. "Remember what I taught you about consent?"

"I know, honey," Daisy giggles. The pet name makes his heart jump, smirking as he finally makes his journey up to her lips, kissing them firmly.

With Daisy's legs parted and bent, Harry wiggles between them, steadily stroking himself.

"You're so wet," he mutters, trailing a fingertip down her center and collecting some of her wetness. He rubs it onto his condom-covered cock, groaning at the feel of lubricated passes.

"Yeah, 'cos I want you," Daisy grumbles half heartedly, making Harry chuckle.

"Impatient, greedy girl," he murmurs, nudging his knees up so they're flesh against the backs of her thighs, "Gonna start pushing in, baby."

She rolls her lips into her mouth and nods. Double-checking to ensure she's ready, Harry grabs one of her hands and intertwines their fingers together, giving it a small squeeze. Slowly, he guides his tip to her entrance, breathing out a heavy sigh at the warmth radiating her pussy. He pushes in ever so lightly, popping through her walls, eliciting a gasp from Daisy.

"Y'alright?" He asks, stilling his hips.

"Feels different than your fingers." She immediately admits and he nods understandingly.

"I know. That was just the tip. Do you need to stop?"

Daisy shakes her head, "No. Keep going, I can do it."

He inches himself forward, biting his lip harshly at her tightness. It's taking everything in him to maintain his slow pace, knowing he needs to be gentle with Daisy, but god, she was just so wet and warm.

Harry eventually gets about halfway through when Daisy simply nods, her eyes watery.

"It hurts but I can do it," she says, "Just go all the way, please."

"Don't rush it, sweetheart. I don't want to hurt you. Just keep breathing and try to relax your muscles as best you can."

It's difficult for Daisy to follow his advice when her body is trying to reject the intrusion. She swears it's been at least 30 minutes of him pushing forward inch by inch, though she knows it's realistically probably only been around 10. Finally, she does start to get accustomed to the feeling, her tense body beginning to relax enough for him to continue pushing.

"This is the last bit," Harry murmurs, a wave of relief coming over Daisy. It's... weird and uncomfortable, a dull pain throbbing as her muscles stretch to accommodate Harry's endowment. She knows it has to get better than this, though — otherwise, why were people so obsessed with having sex?

With his balls flush against her bum, Harry groans, his cock pulsing inside of her. "You feel... s-so fuckin' good, Dais," he nearly slurs out, making her blush. She can't say the exact same about him right now, but she's glad that he's at least receiving pleasure.

"Let me know when it's okay to move?"

Daisy nods and Harry notices the tense tick in her jaw. He swallows and trails his fingertips along her cheek, leaning forward to smear their lips together. It's messy but that's mainly his own fault — he's trying his best to distract Daisy from the discomfort, but it's a selfish act, too, so he doesn't accidentally buck up into her when she's not ready.

With their foreheads pressed against each other and quiet pants filling the air, Harry brings two of his fingers to his mouth, spits on them, and lowers them down to her clit. She moans softly at the sensation of tight circles pressed into the skin.

"T-that's good," she stutters, nodding her head, "Y'can move, just keep playing with me like that."

Harry mentally thanks his lucky stars and nods, continuing his assault on her clit as he slowly begins to move his hips. She's squeezing him so tightly and she's not even aware of how good she feels, which only makes him even more turned on. His sweet dove laying underneath him, eyes hazy as she takes his cock for the first time.

He keeps his strokes shallow, not yet wanting to overwhelm her with the pressure of hitting her g-spot. It's taking every inch of self-control he has to keep it slow, but it's worth it for her.

"You look so sweet like this," he mumbles out, spit-swollen lips parted as he watches her, "Just laying here, letting me fuck you and play with your pretty little clit. Is this what you wanted, sunshine? My cock inside of you?"

Daisy nods, biting down on her lip as a moan escapes her throat. "Yes," she whimpers with fluttering eyes. "Feels... so full and good. Love being filled with you."

She isn't lying — she knows girls her age sometimes lay there during sex and zone out because it isn't any good, but Harry worked her up and stretched her out. With his cock steadily pumping inside of her and his fingers looping around her swollen clit, she feels the familiar tightening in her core.

"Can I go a little deeper, baby?"

"Uh-huh— please, deeper, H."

Daisy's not quite sure what that entails until Harry scooches up, grinding their hips together. She gasps when she feels it — he always strokes at that spot all the way at the back of her walls when he's fingering her, but to feel his cock pressing against it in steady pumps is near enough to make her finish on the spot.

Her jaw drops open and they lock eyes; Daisy unable to verbalize how good it feels and Harry simply in awe of how beautiful and blissed out she looks.

"There you go," he encourages, tapping his fingers against her pearly clit, "Gonna cum on my cock? Been dreaming of it, I need to feel you squeeze me."

"S-shit— 'm gonna cum, Harry, please—"

"Not gonna stop, dovie, just give me what I want, yeah? Cum for me, honey."

It hits her like a train, unlike any orgasm Harry's ever given her before. She's a moaning mess as she squirms beneath his body, his fingers and hips never stopping as she clenches down on his cock, her walls contracting in the most delicious way.

"Fuck, there's my girl," Harry groans, feeling her arousal drip from her hole and create a mess between their thighs. "So pretty, sunshine."

As soon as Daisy cums, Harry gives himself permission to do the same. Her full body orgasm is the sexiest sight and it's not long before his hips, flush against her bum, still inside of her, filling up the condom with ropes of warm cum. She's still whimpering at the intensity of her own peak but manages to take in the sight of Harry in complete pleasure with scrunched up eyes and curses falling from his swollen lips.

A few moments later, when they've both come down, Harry swallows and looks down at the girl below him.

"Was that alright?"

"It was amazing," she smiles, her soft features offering an immediate sense of relief, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. I feel honored that you let me be your first."

Daisy's stomach flips as he lets out a shallow breath. "Gonna pull out now, 'kay? Might feel a little weird."

It's not the most uncomfortable feeling she's felt tonight, but even if it was, she doesn't think she'd care. She's on cloud nine from finally losing her virginity, but not to just anyone — to Harry, the guy that she still can't believe is her actual boyfriend.

"What are you smiling at?" Harry asks with a smirk as he walks back into the living room after disposing the condom. He pulls his briefs on and leans over Daisy's form, pressing a few kisses to her lips.

"Just happy, honey."

"Yeah?" He chuckles, his body lighting up at glowing grin on her face.

"Mhm."

"Me too. I'm so happy."

#writing #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #fanfic #harry #harry styles smut #70s!harry #harrys house #love on tour

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winniethewife · 6 months

Text

Hush-hush, stand there and don't you say a word (Steven Grant x F!reader)

Prompt: sex pollen

Warning: Dub-con, Smut under the cut, love marks, PinV sex, rough sex, drugged, overstimulation, dumbification, degregation

Minors DNI

Words: 507

Steven stumbles into the door of her flat, his eyes glazed over as he searches for her, his mind fuzzy from the weird substance he encountered while out the night before as Mr. Knight. The Powdery substance his foe had thrown in his face made him feel, odd, and all he could think about is her. He needed her…now His half lidded gaze finally finds her sitting on the end of her bed half-dressed getting ready for her day. She looks up to see him, his suit obviously roughed up, his hair a mess.

“Darling what happened to you?” She stands up quickly and closes the distance, her eyes full of concern and her hands gently on his shoulders. He scent is intoxicating he feels his arousal heighten. He grabs her tight around the waist and shoves her down on the bed.

“S’ Sorry Love, C-ant…gotta…Need you. Now.” He says his speech slurred as his hands roamed her body. She was surprised. Steven was hardly ever like this, never so demanding.

“Steven, what has gotten-Oh gods” She groans as his mouth attacks her neck, sucking and dragging his teeth along her sensitive skin. His body pressed against her, pinning her down as he grinds his hips against hers, seeking that glorious friction. “F-fuck Steven…” She groans as he takes and takes. His hands roaming her body tearing her clothes off her body, nothing stopping him. He yanks down his pants letting his rigid cock spring from its confines, he’s so focused, so in need he just keeps her hands pinned above her head as he rubs his length against her thigh.

“That’s it, lemme, lemme use you. I need this, Need you. So good f’me. So fuckin’ good.” He whimpers and whines as he presses against her, Steven thrusts against her again and again before finally managing a way in. The sting of him stretching her open causes her to clench her fists and a soft gasp to escape her lips.

“Steven, please.” She pleads with him, hoping he would be gentler. But her soft cry goes unheard as he picks up the pace, slotting his lips over her in an attempt to keep her quiet, his hips moving faster, chasing his release like its life or death. He licks into her mouth and growls softly, he needs this, needs it bad, and he needs it now. His movements grow sloppy as he moves faster getting closer and closer to his release. He pulls his lips away and an animalistic sound comes ripping from his throat as he looks into her eyes, his eyes dark and filled with lust as he takes what he needs, painting her insides again and again. This goes on and on, she isn’t at all sure what caused sweet Steven to loose himself but as she reaches her own climax again and again her mind goes blank, so overstimulated she can’t even think. And it feels…oh so good.

“Shhh…atta girl..so good, such a good little slut. My little… fuck toy…that right…you’re…you’re mine”

Bingo Masterlist

Tag: @moonknight-events @juneknight @spacecowboyhotch

#moon knight #x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moonknightevents #moon boys #moon knight x reader #Spotify #drabble #steven with a v #steven grant smut #x reader smut

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exhuastedpigeon · 4 days

Text

Whatever you do, don't think about Eddie Diaz hearing Pink Pony Club for the first time and feeling like he's been hit in the chest with it.

I know you wanted me to stay But I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA And I heard that there's a special place Where boys and girls can all be queens every single day

Don't think about Eddie growing up Catholic in Texas and knowing deep down he isn't straight, but not being ready to look at it.

I'm having wicked dreams of leaving Tennessee Hear Santa Monica, I swear it's calling me Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream

Don't picture him going to Pride with Buck and Hen as an ally and hearing the opening lines of Pink Pony Club while he's dancing and feeling more free than he ever has in his life and finally being ready to look at that part of himself he kept hidden away for so long because he didn't feel safe enough to look at it until now.

God, what have you done? You're a pink pony girl And you dance at the club Oh mama, I'm just having fun On the stage in my heels It's where I belong down at the

Don't picture him freezing as the music washes over him, just for a moment. Don't picture his eyes getting misty while Chappell Roan plays over the clubs sound system.

Pink Pony Club I'm gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club I'm gonna keep on dancing down in West Hollywood I'm gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

Don't think about him him taking the lyrics to heart and starting to dance again. Don't picture him with tears running down his cheeks and a smile on his face, head thrown back as he moves to the beat.

I'm up and jaws are on the floor Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door Blacklights and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all

Don't think about his life flashing before his eyes, moments he's been too scared or hurt to look at, moments where he pushed his feelings down because he felt like he needed to, moments where he felt like he was irrevocably broken.

Don't think I've left you all behind Still love you and Tennessee You're always on my mind And mama, every Saturday I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away

Don't picture him breathing in and out, moving with the bodies around him, and knowing he's home. That he's safe here in this place surrounded by people like him - surrounded by people who would understand how he feels.

Pink Pony Club I'm gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club I'm gonna keep on dancing down in West Hollywood I'm gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

Don't picture him feeling so alive and so free. Don't picture him meeting Buck's eyes across from him and grinning even bigger, tears still flowing but they don't matter. Don't picture him exhaling and knowing this is where he's supposed to be. This is who he's supposed to be.

I'm gonna keep on dancing I'm gonna keep on dancing

#listen i have a lot of feelings about pink pony club and growing up queer in a place where there weren't a lot of queer people #and a lot of feelings about eddie diaz #911 #eddie diaz #911 abc #buddie

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roosterbruiser · 6 months

Text

VOULEZ-VOUS FINALE

Spans from December, 1978--December, 1992

Los Angeles, CA

She opens a bank account. Her bruise plays a big role in this chapter.

Another house party with just the gang. Cherry and Hangman are pretty much high the whole time. Everyone does a little bit of coke besides Rooster. She reads everyone’s palms.

Jake plays the tape of him and Cherry for everyone and Rooster gets pissy about it. And he tries to say it’s because he never watches his own stuff so he doesn’t understand why Jake does. And Cherry has to be like…relax, man. I fuck everyone.

Rooster sulks outside, smoking a cigar. And Cherry finally goes outside and sits on his lap and asks him what’s going on. He’s too afraid to admit that he’s in love with her. So he just says that he likes the way things have been and he doesn’t want things to change. She assures him they won’t.

And like she can sense that he needs it, she fucks him that night. Stays with him. Except there’s a moment where he tries to slow her down, holding her hips, helping her rock. And she lets him for a second--it feels good. It feels really, really good. But then she’s awash with something that feels too big and she takes over again and goes fast.

Rooster tells her that he sleeps very deeply when she sleeps with him. It feels like he’s saying that he loves her.

Los Angeles, CA May 29th, 1979

Jake’s guilty but unwilling to talk about things. They haven’t told anybody about what happened. They have a little get-together and watch some of the films Cherry has made and Rooster privately broods. She babies him--sits on his lap while he smokes a cigar. And then they have sex that night. It’s the first time they actually make love.

How come she can be sweet with Jake and not make it sexual but she can’t do that with Rooster?

Her and Rooster are like achingly close to being a couple. She’s spending all her time with him, they seem to have found some sort of domestic bliss together. She’s getting more money and he helps her open a bank account.

He is close to telling her that he loves her. But something that keeps happening is everytime they have an intimate moment together, she tries to get sexual with him. And he doesn’t know how to tell her now so he does it.

It comes to a head when Hangman is over one night. Her and Rooster go to bed and he is just holding her, kissing her, about to say he loves her. And she tries to initiate sex. And he lets it get to her sitting naked on top of him before he stops her. They have a small warble because she feels rejected and he doesn’t know how to explain to her that she doesn’t always have to fuck him.

So she gets out of bed and fucks Hangman. Then she sleeps in her own room.

Los Angeles, CA June 9th, 1979

Things are a bit stilted between her and Rooster now. She’s back on her bullshit with Jake, doing coke all the time and partying. It’s like what happened to her meant nothing. It didn’t touch her deeply enough for anything to change, especially since her and Rooster are in such a weird spot right now. And Rooter is too worried about something happening to Cherry, so he’s been accompanying them.

Cherry is feeling things for Rooster and it scares her. She is starting to get special treatment from people because they’ve seen her films. A few people ask for autographs.

Somewhere in here, Phoenix paints a portrait of Cherry.

One night at the disco, a woman approaches Rooster and she’s kind of all over him. But he’s just watching Cherry. And when Cherry comes back to the table, he says he’s ready to go and she says she wants to keep partying. The woman wants to fuck Rooster--Cherry can tell. She sees Rooster pushing her off and tells Rooster that he should just take her home.

They get into a spat about it and he ends up leaving with the woman and fucking her at home. But he can’t finish. He doesn’t know why. He lets her stay the night, but he doesn’t sleep in the bed. Really, he doesn’t sleep at all. He just paces.

Los Angeles, CA June 23rd, 1979

Cherry films a scene with Bob--nurse and patient. Then after, her and Bob go to the pier and she takes a walk with him. They get to know each other a little bit and he tells her what he knows about Rooster and Jake. They get to know each other. They both grew up on farms so they talk about it. They don’t fuck again. They have a friendship that translates off-screen and on. People like watching them fuck. But they never do it outside.

When she goes home, Rooster is making dinner. Things have been a bit odd between them. But she’s just overwhelmed. So she goes into the kitchen and just holds him from behind. And he melts in her touch. But then she starts kissing his neck and grabbing his cock and he just gives in because he knows that’s the only way he’s gonna feel her love. They fuck that night, but he tenderly kisses what remains of her bruise. She never takes the necklace off.

Cape Cod, MA July 1st-3rd, 1979

Phoenix has a vacation home on Cape Cod, so they all go to the house. It’s huge and beautiful and they’re all happy together. Cherry rooms with Rooster and it really excited him.

They kind of act like a couple for a little while there. She’s taking bumps with Jake but everyone’s taking bumps.

They have a few good days of just shopping and sun tanning and swimming and fucking. Maybe they play spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven. Cherry ends up fucking everyone in the group during seven minutes in heaven.

When her and Jake are swimming together one night, she notices a scar on the back of his leg that she’s never seen before. He says it’s a piece of Gentry’s skull--embedded there forever because it was too deep. They couldn’t get it out.

For once, at the end of the night, Cherry is too tired to have sex. She asks Rooster if it’s okay if they just sleep. He says of course it is. He’s thrilled. He feels like this means something big.

Cape Cod, MA July 4th, 1979

They drink all day. Cherry takes a few bumps with Jake. They go out boating. It’s a good time. Everyone is beautiful, everything is beautiful.

They stay out on the water and watch the fireworks. She sits on Rooster’s lap all night.

When they get home, everyone is tired. They all go to bed. Her and Rooster go to bed too and they make love. Like they actually make love for the first time--she lets him. And it’s so intense and she doesn’t know what to do and she’s scared.

And he is so happy after. She can see that it pleased him so endlessly. And that terrifies her.

He tells her that he loves her. She pretends like she’s asleep. He falls for it.

Los Angeles, CA July 13th, 1979

Films a swingers scene with Rooster, Phoenix, and Hangman. She’s starting to get recognized on the street now wherever she goes. People from out of town are the only ones brave enough to ask for a picture together and she never says no.

Rooster is waiting for the perfect moment to tell her that he is in love with her. He wants to get it right. He wants to leave the business and take her with him. He has enough money for the both of them to live off of handsomely forever.

So then the four of them hang out at Phoenix’s place. Rooster sees the portrait of Cherry that she painted and says he wants to buy it. It’s the first piece of art he’s ever bought from Phoenix.

Jake tries to outbid Rooster. They have a weirdly tense squabble over it before Cherry intervenes and outbids both of them. She buys the portrait herself.

Later on, when her and Rooster go home, he turns on a record and asks her to dance with him. She’s confused because he never wants to dance. But then it’s a slow record and they slow dance and it feels good. She is in love with him maybe. But she’s having so much fun just fucking around, just being by herself, just doing whatever.

And then he says he wants to tell her something. And she asks him to make her cum first. He does--twice. And then he tells her that he’s in love with her. She is terrified but she knows that she loves him too. She feels powerless against it. So she says she loves him too.

Los Angeles, CA July 17th, 1979

Her and Rooster decide that they’re going to try monogamy. She’s scared, but she loves him. What else is there to do? The deal is that they only fuck other people for work. That’s it. Nothing outside of that.

They announce it to their friends while they’re all on the beach together. Everyone is happy for them. Honestly, it’s a good day. Jake isn’t an asshole--he doesn’t think it’s gonna last, but he doesn’t say that. He’s still touchy with her, which is okay for now.

That night, she takes a bath with Rooster. They tell each other about their childhoods.

Los Angeles, CA August 11th, 1979

She films a cuckold scene with Rooster and Bob.

Fucking other men on set isn’t helping. She wants to keep fucking other people. But she loves Rooster--she’s devoted to him. And it isn’t that he isn’t fulfilling her, it’s just that she’s a genuine nymphomaniac.

Cute moments with her and Rooster--maybe them swimming. Maybe them shopping. You know. Cute stuff. You can do it!

Monterey, CA August 17th-August 20th, 1979

Rooster takes Cherry on a road trip. They go up the coast and stay in a little cottage on the water. It’s nice. It’s just them. He loves that it feels so domestic. She just loves him. She’s insatiable, though. She always wants it--she always wants to be fucked.

Cherry wants to be with him but she’s afraid it won’t be enough. She’s trying so hard for it to be enough. For him. For Rooster. He tells her about his mom getting sick.

Los Angeles, CA September 1979

Films a domination scene with Rooster.

Cherry and Rooster are in love. But she wants to be fucked all the time.

There’s a scene where she tries to initiate sex and he doesn’t want to have sex. So she’s just frustrated. She has to touch herself and it just isn’t the same.

She grabs a drink with Jake and they end up going back to his house. They do too much coke and end up sleeping together. They both feel terrible about it.

She tells Rooster as soon as she gets home. And he forgives her and Jake immediately--I mean, it’s like handing a lighter to a pyromaniac. He gets it. He says that she can sleep with whoever she wants, as long as she comes home and is in bed with him every night.

Los Angeles, CA October, 1979

Films a Western thing with the full cast.

She fucks someone else one night and then comes home. Her and Rooster eat dinner. They got to bed. He initiates sex and in the heat of the moment, while he’s being rough with her, he tells her that he’s fucking someone else’s cum into her. He calls her a whore.

They stop. They’re both upset. They agree that it isn’t working. He asks her, as a last ditch effort, to quit porn and just be with him. She says no. They hold each other. In the morning, they agree to only fuck on set.

Los Angeles, CA November, 1979

Summer camp with the full cast. When her and Rooster fuck, it’s very much them longing for each other. It’s heartbreaking, really. They kiss a lot. He still makes her cum. She misses him so much. Just a long hug after the shoot.

She starts getting super into doing coke with Jake again. They’re hanging out all the time together. She’s still living with Rooster. But they’re achingly just friends--which is very hard for them.

She’s kind of in a tailspin. She fucks everyone. She misses Rooster.

Los Angeles, CA Late November, 1979

Her and Jake are hanging out, doing coke one night. They are talking and they start arguing. He says she doesn’t know the difference between sex and love. And they’re both high and they really get into it but then all of the sudden, he starts seizing.

She rides with him in the ambulance. The paramedics recognize her and one of them asks for her autograph. Rooster meets her at the hospital. He and Cherry comfort each other. She’s very distraught. Jake is okay--they get to go in and see him after a few hours. They stay in the hospital with him for a while.

When Rooster goes home to get him and Cherry some clothes, Jake tells her that he has something that he only wants to tell Cherry and she can’t tell anyone. She agrees. It’s very soft. She’s stroking his hair, they’re both crying. He said he met God and he licked his wounds. It was Gentry.

Los Angeles, CA December, 1979

Cherry is still reeling from seeing Jake overdose. She asks Dennis if she can push the shoot back. He says no. Rooster and him get into it.

Cherry shows up on set and Rooster and Dennis are arguing. Rooster tells Cherry that this is his last scene--ever. He’s leaving the business after this. This means several things: Cherry knows everyone will start to leave after him, they won’t fuck anymore, and she will miss him severely.

It’s a make-me-a-star scene. Very sad.

Dennis insults Rooster and Cherry decks Dennis in the face. She busts his lip open good and wide.

Los Angeles, CA Late December, 1979

It’s just her and Rooster over Christmas. It’s her first one away from her folks. She signs another contract with Goldman Homevideos. Dennis forgives her--so he can keep making money from her.

The prologue ties in here. It is Dennis. He drugged her.

She goes into Rooster’s room. He throws Dennis out. He cleans her up. It’s all very tender. She says she wishes that she could be what he wants her to be. He says that isn’t the issue here--the issue is that she can’t give herself to him fully. They hold each other. She still has the gold chain. She says that she thinks they’re soulmates. He says he’s always known it.

Los Angeles, CA November, 1980

It’s Cherry’s 23rd birthday. She celebrates with the whole crew. It’s a good party.

Afterwards, Rooster gives her another gift. It’s when they’re alone together. He gives her two thick, fat gold rings. One has a C engraved on it and the other has an A engraved on it. He says that the next time Dennis acts up, she can scar him up real good. So that everyone knows he fucked with Cherry Arsan.

Rooster finished Emmanuelle. He reads some out loud to her as they nurse their final cocktails of the night. They just go to sleep there on the couch together. They don’t have sex.

Cape Cod, MA July, 1981

They’re all at Phoenix’s house for the 4th again. Rooster, Payback, and Phoenix aren’t in the industry anymore. That leaves Cherry, Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy.

They swim and eat and all just love each other. It’s a good time. Cherry and Hangman aren’t officially a couple, but they may as well be. Cherry lives with him now and they’re fuck buddies, even though they fuck other people.

But monogamy isn’t a thing. So she sleeps in Rooster’s bed because she misses him. And he misses her, too. They end up having sex and afterwards, Rooster is upset. He wants her. So he tells her that they can’t have sex again. It makes him miserable.

Los Angeles, CA April, 1982

Phoenix is getting married. Everyone attends the wedding. They dance--except Rooster, who just watches. But when a slow song comes on, her and Rooster dance together. They dance to the song Something On Your Mind by Karen Dalton.

He asks her if she ever wants to get married. They talk about it. She doesn’t know what she wants. She says that if she ever does get married, she hopes it’s him. But she doesn’t feel ready. He says he’ll wait for her.

Only Hangman and Cherry are in the industry still.

Los Angeles, CA December, 1983

It’s Christmas. It’s just Rooster and Cherry.

Hangman is starting to spend Christmas with Gentry’s family.

They’ve been doing this for a few years now. They reminisce all the years they’ve known each other and the way things have changed. She gets him very expensive cigars and a new gold chain since she still wears his. It’s very nice. He gets her a pair of shoes--nice, leather Mary Janes. And a pair of bell-bottoms.

They don’t have sex, but she sleeps in his bed. He says it’s the only time he sleeps through the night. She kisses his forehead.

Los Angeles, CA

June, 1984

It’s Rooster’s birthday now. They all celebrate with a big party at Rooster’s house. It takes place after, as she’s helping clean the place. Hangman quit the business. Cherry is getting her own place.

On the off-hand, Cherry asks Rooster to grab her purse. He sees that there’s a gun in it. She says the world isn’t what it used to be. He begs her to leave and just be with him. Just love him. Isn’t he enough? It’s sad.

This is when she also breaks the news to Rooster. Her and Hangman, during a coked up excursion in Las Vegas, got married. And when they came down, they decided they were gonna give things a go. Maybe not entirely monogamous, but devoted to each other. Rooster asks her if she regrets it. She says she doesn’t know yet, but she likes how warm he is in bed. Rooster is heartbroken, but also wise. He knows what they have isn’t going to last. They love each other the way an addict loves their next fix. There’s no longevity. What he and her have? That’s forever. He knows. He knows it.

Los Angeles, CA October, 1985

Cherry is on the cover of Playboy in September. Her mother sends her a letter. She lets Rooster read it. It’s very, very sad. She’s upset about it.

Rooster asks if she wants to go dancing to cheer her up. Bell Bottoms closed. So they just go for a swim. He skinny dips, just to cheer her up. She does, too. They almost have sex. Almost. But they stop in time.

Her and Jake aren’t doing very well in their marriage. Their relationship is tumultuous and immature. They fight over everything…their next fix, their marriage, their cars, their jobs. They’ve lost their friendship.

Los Angeles, CA January 1987

Cherry’s parents both die in a car accident. She finds out that they were in an immense amount of debt when they died, but they never asked her for help. She thinks that is sad and funny. Cherry would’ve given them money if she knew, but she didn’t. Her, Hangman, and Rooster go home to help with the house. She sees old people she’s fucked. Everyone ogles at her because they recognize her. The women give her hateful looks.

Her brother is terrible to her. Her parents left her nothing in their will--just what was in her childhood bedroom. She sees it--the way she left it when she was 21. Nothing is touched. They basically just boarded it up.

It’s melancholy.

Her, Rooster, and Hangman all squeeze into her childhood bed and sleep there together. It’s the worst sleep of her life. Between her husband and her soulmate.

Los Angeles, CA February 1988

Rooster introduces Cherry to his fiance. Her name is Samantha. She’s an accountant. Samantha is older. Like maybe close to forty. She’s beautiful. They all have dinner together. Samantha very obviously doesn’t like Cherry, but she’s very cordial towards her. Cherry is becoming very insecure as she ages. She liked being the pretty young thing on the scene, liked that everyone was always calling her a baby. But she’s not so super young anymore.

Jake, Cherry, and Bradley all go to dinner together to meet Samantha. Samantha and Bradley haven’t been together for very long. Cherry just got back from Italy and she’s talking a lot about herself. But she’s also coming to terms with the fact that she has an expiration date and it’s approaching. She’s struggling. Maybe she even talks about getting plastic surgery (which Samantha is super against).

She kind of fishes for compliments, very vain, always checking her makeup. Samantha is a very forward-thinking woman who can hold her own. But she has very rigid standards of what she considers feminist and what she doesn’t.

Samantha doesn’t like Cherry. Cherry is kind of being a bit off-putting and being touchy with Rooster and Jake.

They get into a discussion about porn.

Samantha says Rooster regrets doing porn. And Cherry is asking him but he’s on the spot. He talks about how it was predatory and how Dennis used them, but her whole perspective is like sure, maybe it was predatory, but look at the fucking house we’re sitting in. Look at the fucking gold chain you’re wearing. Look at the fucking steak we’re eating right now, with the perfect marble. And Jake and Rooster say that Cherry got the worst of it and she’s like yeah, I did. But what do I have to complain about when I’m sitting here in a Chanel dress, wearing a string of saltwater pearls?

So then Samantha brings up how when her and Rooster have kids, and if they have sons, they don’t want them to watch porn. Porn has such a negative effect on youth and it makes men violent. Cherry takes that as a personal offense. She says she doesn’t make men violent by having violent sex on camera--she has to have violent sex on camera because that’s what men want.

Her and Hangman hang around after dinner, when Samantha goes home. Her and Rooster don’t live together yet. They all talk about the years that have passed and how times have changed.

They talk about children. What they all want in life. And Cherry and Hangman tell Rooster that they’re getting a divorce--a very amicable one. As soon as they decided to divorce, they became friends again. They tell Rooster, while laughing, about the last fight that they had. Cherry called Jake a cokehead loser who couldn’t get over his dead gay boyfriend. Jake called Cherry an orphaned sell-out with too-big tits. Rooster doesn’t think any of this is funny.

Los Angeles, CA November-December, 1988

Cherry has an ectopic pregnancy. She has one egg drop and it ends up detaching in the wrong spot. She was a whole conversation with Rooster about it. Rooster comes to her in the hospital and won’t leave until she finishes eating. She’s very obviously struggling, even if she’s trying to still be fun and flirty and sexy. He asks whose it was. She says maybe Jake’s, but it’s anyone’s guess.

He leaves but waits outside the door. He hears Cherry sobbing. When he walks back in, she’s curled into herself and facing away from him. He just crawls into bed behind her and holds her tight.

The next month, Rooster invites Cherry over for dinner. Samantha is there. Samantha and Rooster are looking into fertility treatment because they want to start a family. And Cherry tries to talk to Samantha about it, but Samantha implies that her issues are different from Cherry’s and that she’s always known she was gonna have a hard time conceiving.

So first of all, Cherry asks Rooster if he wants kids. And he says that maybe he does. And she says you’ve never told me that. And Samantha is like why would he? And Cherry says that they were together. And Samantha has hit the ceiling at this point. So she’s like yeah, he told me about it. You couldn’t stop fucking other men.

Rooster stands up for Cherry. And Cherry and Rooster have an argument. Cherry is trying to be everybody’s baby and Rooster is upset by all this. She’s smoking a cigarette in his house and he tells her to take it outside. And she’s surprised bc he always bends the rules for her. And she won’t let Samantha take that.

But then he says that they’re engaged. She isn’t the woman in his life.

She leaves before she starts crying.

Los Angeles, CA July 1989

It’s the night before the wedding. Cherry quit the industry a few months ago. Everyone’s at the hotel. It’s late. She’s sitting at the hotel bar by herself, nursing a glass of wine. Rooster ends up coming down. They talk all night. It’s a lot of reflection--all her time in the industry, what she learned about love and sex. What she learned about men and herself. And he just loves her so much.

Cherry does not intend to ruin the wedding. She just tells Rooster that she wishes their timing had been better. She wishes she had been ready. She wishes she was his age. He tells her it’s too late for that now. That he is a good man with good intentions and there is a woman upstairs who he said he would marry. Cherry, very sadly and sweetly, says she knows he is a man of his word. She tells him that he is going to make a perfect husband and a perfect father. She squeezes his hand.

She goes upstairs to her hotel room and feels immense grief, but relief as well. The back and forth is finally ending. There is no more will-they-won’t-they with them. He’s moving on. She is heartbroken, but genuinely very happy for him.

There’s a knock on the door. It’s Rooster and he’s holding his suitcase. He tells her that she’s always had horrible timing. She says she’s been late to everything in her life. He leaves with Cherry.

Sonoma, CA December 1992

Cherry is 35 and Rooster is 45. They own a vineyard in Sonoma. They’re preparing things for Christmas with everyone. They make love before the fireplace. They’re lovingly getting their home ready for all their friends. They’ve got a couple dogs and some horses. Life is good--sweet.

A few of them have kids, most everyone is married. Cherry and Rooster got married a few months after the wedding was called off. They’re happy. They’re really, really happy. They look through photo albums while they’re getting things out. All the photos Rooster took of her over the years--some of them are devastatingly sexy. But others are sexy in a quieter way--like a picture he took without her knowing, one where she’s sitting at the end of her bed and rolling lace stockings up her legs. Another where she’s sucking her finger in the reflection of the mirror to get the lipstick off her teeth. And some of the pictures aren’t sexy at all--they’re just beautiful. Cherry on their honeymoon in Maine, bundled up in a sweater with a scarf in her hair waving in the wind. Cherry behind the wheel of Rooster’s cherry-red car, grinning sweetly with her big sunglasses on. Cherry first-thing in the morning, hair messy and toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. It’s the way he’s always seen her, which is not the way most men of the world see her: as a person. As herself. As something to be loved and not just fucked.

Fin.

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toriluvsnickwayne · 8 days

Text

Worth it

Hook x (Shibata’s sister) Reader

Y/N's POV

I was beyond excited to be attending my first AEW show. As a huge wrestling fan, I had always dreamed of seeing my favorite wrestlers in action live. And now, thanks to my brother Katsuyori Shibata, I had the opportunity to experience it all backstage.

As I explored the area, I stumbled upon a familiar face - Hook. He was preparing for his match, his intense focus evident on his face. I watched him for a moment, admiring his dedication to his craft. Then, he looked up and caught my eye. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as he smiled and approached me.

"Hey, you must be new around here," he said, his charming smile putting me at ease. "I'm Hook."

"I'm Y/N," I replied, trying to sound calm. "Nice to meet you, Hook. I'm a huge fan of your work."

We struck up a conversation, bonding over our shared passion for wrestling. As we chatted, I found myself drawn to Hook's charming personality and sense of humor. We exchanged phone numbers, and our conversation continued via text as we went about our evening.

I couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to him. We discussed everything from our favorite wrestlers to our favorite TV shows. I felt like I'd known him for years. He even said I could call him Tyler.

Hook's POV

I was getting ready for my match when I met Y/N backstage. She was smart, funny, and had a passion for wrestling that rivaled mine. We hit it off immediately.

As we texted each other throughout the night, I found myself grinning like a fool. I couldn't wait to see her again.

But then, Shibata approached me with a knowing glint in his eye. "Who's got you so distracted, Hook?" he asked.

I replied, "Just a new friend I met, Y/N."

Shibata's expression turned serious. "Y/N, you say? That's my little sister!"

My eyes widened in surprise. "I had no idea! I swear!"

Shibata chuckled. "Well, Hook, if you want to take my sister out on a date, you'll have to prove yourself worthy."

I nodded, ready to accept whatever challenge came my way.

"Alright, Hook," Shibata said with a smirk. "I dare you to sing 'I Will Survive' in front of the entire locker room... in a tutu. Matter of fact make it a pink one.”

My face turned bright red. "Deal."

With that I took a deep breath, I donned a bright pink tutu and belted out the disco classic. The locker room erupted in cheers and laughter, and Shibata grinned in approval.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” I heard Orange say.

"You've passed the test, Hook. Take my sister out on a date, and make it a night to remember! Just remember, if you hurt her I’ll come find you……have fun!”

Time skip

Hook's POV

"Hey, Y/N?" I said, turning to her with a grin. "I have to tell you something."

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Your brother made me do a dare to prove myself worthy of taking you out on a date," I admitted.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What did he make you do?"

I took a deep breath and confessed, "He made me sing 'I Will Survive' in a tutu in front of the entire locker room."

Y/N burst out laughing, her eyes shining with mirth. "Oh my god, that's amazing!"

I chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Yeah, it was pretty ridiculous. But it was worth it, just to see you smile like that."

Y/N's expression turned thoughtful, and she asked, "Was it really worth it, though? The embarrassment and all?"

I looked into her eyes, my heart beating faster. "It was worth every second of embarrassment, because I got to spend time with you. And that, Y/N, is truly worth it."

Y/N's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she leaned in close. "I think it's worth it too, Tyler."

@moniquelovesaewhook requested this and I hope filled ur request. I rlly enjoyed writing this story and I knew I had to put a funny bit in there. I do think I’m going to start writing for other people perhaps prlly start out with Nick Wayne(🤭) and I’ve got a whole list of people who I write for (it’s on my main Masterlist) if u have and request just send them my way- lots of love Tori🤍

#hook aew #aew fic #aew fanfiction #aew imagine #aew #aew hook x reader #730 hook #hook aew x reader #aew hook imagine #hook x reader #send hook #katsuyori shibata

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rehfan · 2 months

Text

La Belle Dame avec Merci -- Chapter 6: The Dance

Eddie Munson x Unpopular!AFAB!fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ readers only please - minor children DNI! – No Upsidedown; reader is technically a virgin; mutual pining; Eddie has trust issues; emotional hurt/comfort; female masturbation; male masturbation; emotional manipulation; reader is kinda shitty to Eddie; reader gets better; angst; more angst; Eddie’s mom is dead; small act of accidental physical violence; Uncle Wayne is the best

Tagged: @bluestuesday / @ali-r3n / @winchester-angel / @iletmytittiestitty-russ / @mewchiili / @chaoticgood-munson / @welcometohellsock /

DO NOT POST TO ANY OTHER SITE. My words are mine and mine alone.

Inspired by @/hard-candy-writing ‘s ORIGINAL POST

MASTERPOST LINK – AO3 LINK

********************************

Saturday arrived unceremoniously despite being the day of the Sadie Hawkins dance. The dance Eddie wasn’t taking you to. You awoke to a pair of parents on a cleaning frenzy. They roped you in quickly, handing you the paper towels and the window cleaner and assigning you every interior flat glass surface throughout your three bedroom split level ranch home. “Don’t forget the sills!” your mother shouted over the disco music she had put on to motivate the three of you. She was handling the kitchen. Dad was getting the lawnmower ready to tackle the front yard for one of the last times before winter truly settled in. As you cleaned the large sliding glass doors that led to the back porch, you could hear him cursing while trying to attach the bagger for the leaves and clippings. You wondered if he would appreciate Eddie’s help.

As soon as the thought hit you, you shook it off. Nope. He was not going to invade your thoughts. Certainly not on a domestic level. He probably had no idea how to cook or clean anyway, never mind now a lawn. But then, he might? You knew so little about him it was shameful.

And then again, you weren’t his actual girlfriend. You two had never had a proper date, no opportunity to know one another. As you wiped at the windows in your parent’s bedroom, your mind drifted to what a date with Eddie would be like. Certainly, he’d take you someplace for dinner. Maybe pizza. Maybe takeout Chinese? Neither one of you can afford Enzo’s. And the conversation? Where would you begin? Music, probably. Cosmo. Teachers. Family. Hopes for the future.

And when all was done? Where would you go? Where could you go in Hawkins? Lover’s Lake. The quarry. Skull rock. You’d heard all of these places were used as rendezvous points for the kids at Hawkins High, but you’d never been. Skull rock sounded ominous. Lover’s lake was a bit too on the nose and too cheesy for you. But the quarry? A little dangerous, a little unexpected for one of your puritanical reputation. Yes. That was the one.

Maybe tonight you’d take a drive out that way instead of going to the dance.

Your mother called you out of your daydreams. Apparently the carpet in your bedroom wasn’t going to vacuum itself.

~080~

Early visits to the car part store and the hardware store filled Eddie’s Saturday morning. Though he was standing there between Wayne and Rocco, the auto parts guy, discussing the proper time to be adding antifreeze to Wayne’s truck and Eddie’s van, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his mind wander to you. Did you have any antifreeze for the winter? Did you need any? Maybe your dad took care of that stuff for you.

“Fuck,” Eddie muttered.

“Something wrong, Ed?” asked his uncle, both men paused in their conversation at Eddie’s curse.

“Hm? No. Sorry. Just think I forgot my smokes. I’ll just check the car, yeah? You good, unc?”

“Yeah, son. I’ll just be a minute.”

Eddie took a deep breath when he got to Wayne’s truck. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about you. But give his brain less than one thing to concentrate on at a time and goddamn it - off it went, thinking of you like it did just the night before.

It was shame that had him up so early that morning. The shame of waking up in that empty bed still smelling like sweat and his own spunk. He needed to fuck you out of his system. And then there was the shame of jerking off to you - again! The only thing for it was a scrub in a hot shower…which of course meant he was rubbing another one out while trying not to call out your name.

He leaned heavily against the truck, gulping down air like a fish out of water. Shaky hands brought out a half-crumpled soft pack from his inner pocket. He shook out the end of one of the cancer sticks and with what used to be smooth and practiced motions, mouthed the end of one, stuffed the pack back, and brought out his lighter. Today it took him three tries to get the cig from the pack into his dry mouth and four attempts to get a flame to come from his cheap plastic Bic.

He was three draws in again when he felt steady enough to swear. Two more and his hands weren’t as shaky.

“Ready to go?” Wayne asked.

Eddie stubbed out the cig and nodded. He got in the truck and Wayne settled the plastic bag of spark plugs in Eddie’s lap to hold. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

“What?”

“Look, Ed, I’m not here to be nosy, but I like to think you’d come to me if there was something going on. I mean —, “ here he gazed at his nephew as the engine roared to life, “I worry about you. That’s all.”

“It’s nothing,” Eddie said.

Wayne reversed the truck and backed out of the space, eyes moving between mirrors and out the back window. Shifting to drive, he pulled to the exit and waited for traffic to open up. He wasn’t looking at his nephew when he said, “Your mom on your mind?”

“Huh? No. Not really.”

“Because you get this way when you—“

“It’s not her, okay?”

“Okay.”

The truck moved smoothly into the street and headed in the direction of the hardware store. It was off Main Street in downtown Hawkins and Eddie liked it there. Something about buckets and buckets of bolts, screws, nuts, and washers all in their proper places made his brain buzz pleasantly with a calm joy. He really liked the smell there too: fresh cut wood and paint supplies. Which reminded him:

“I need some acrylics for some models,” he said. “Do you think they’d carry some?”

“We can ask, but don’t you normally scrounge that stuff from school?”

“Yeah, but the art teachers can only give me so much,” he said, shrugging. “If they don’t have any, it’ll be okay. It was just a thought.”

Wayne spared Eddie a sideways glance. The boy stared out his passenger side window, head against the glass, eyes dull, and his fingers twisted one of his rings around his finger idly.

Wayne decided to take a chance: “What’s her name?”

Eddie turned his head, eyes suspicious. “What are you talking about?”

Wayne couldn’t hide his small laugh. “I knew it might happen again. But I’ll admit, I was hoping for sooner. Been a while since that Debbie girl.”

Eddie felt himself go crimson. “Shut up, man,” he mumbled.

“Hey. First off, no back talk. Second, having a thing for someone is fine.” There was silence in the cab for a block or two before Wayne said, “She really pretty?”

“I suppose.”

“Wow.” Wayne let out a long low whistle. “With that kind of reaction she must be a knockout.” He threw Eddie a cockeyed grin. “She’s a stunner, huh?”

Eddie couldn’t help himself. He grinned and sighed: “Totally.”

“And she knows you like her?”

Eddie’s grin faded. No. You had no idea. He’d kissed you twice, but still you thought he hated your guts. He'd given you that impression himself. But you never knew that he’d fucked his fist over you multiple times now. He’d imagined you in his life and his bed, but you were in neither. And you never would be.

Eddie shook his head.

“Ah,” said Wayne. He was quiet for a while after that. He didn’t talk again until the truck was parked in front of the hardware store. It was a busy morning in Hawkins and Saturdays were the days people went to Hawkins Lumber and Supply. The two of them people-watched for a minute in the quiet cab of the truck.

“I know you don’t have much luck with the opposite sex,” Wayne began.

“God, Wayne,” whined Eddie. “You make me sound like I’m a virgin.”

Wayne painted a mock look of shock on his face and gasped. “You mean my sweet baby boy has been spoiled?!”

“Shut up,” Eddie said, a smirk on his face as he unbuckled and opened his door.

The lumber smell hit him first. He could swim in it. “Over here,” Wayne directed eagerly with a grin. Eddie hadn’t seen him this keyed up in a minute. But it’s not every day a man gets his own brand new generator. The last two winters had been hell without one. Eddie had helped his uncle lay down the concrete patch that the small shed would sit on to house it. The trailer park red tape they went through to get that little patch put in was a war onto itself, but that mountain had been conquered. Now the crowning glory was coming home with them. All they needed to do was set her in place and hook her up.

Wayne grinned ear to ear while talking with Sally the sales lady. Eddie gave her a polite nod as she smiled at him before motioning for her associate to wheel out the generator on a hand truck.

When it was mounted and secured in the truck bed, Wayne sat behind the wheel, closed his driver’s side door, and sighed, happy. He turned to Eddie: “Gonna be a warm winter.”

“Finally! No freezing our asses off bundled up in blankets,” grinned Eddie.

“Drinking hot drinks just to warm up,” agreed Wayne.

“Or worse: heading to the church for a meal.”

Wayne shook his head. “They mean well.”

“Yeah. They’re real mean. They wanted to baptize me!” Wayne chuckled at Eddie’s outrage and started the engine. “And you almost let them!”

“I almost did!” said Wayne. “Only reason I didn’t: they wouldn’t heat up the holy water first. Colder than a witch’s tit that year.” Eddie laughed and shook his head. “What? Couldn’t have you catching cold!”

They were half way home when Wayne asked, “Would she take care of you?”

“What? Who—?” But in the next instant, he knew who his uncle meant. “Aw man, leave it alone, will ya?”

“Answer the question.”

“Would she take care of me?”

Wayne nodded. “If you were sick. Or if you hurt yourself.”

Eddie recalled your soft kisses to his hand from pounding on the elevator door. He remembered you so concerned for him that he had shoved you to the floor. His gut twisted. “Yeah. She would.”

Wayne nodded and as he drove, fished out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. Eddie lit him up with his lighter. “She cares then,” he said. “That’s good.”

“I guess,” Eddie said, his head now back against the window, the same listless look in his eyes once more.

“Ed, I may not know much, but I do know that it should be about how this girl sees you. And if you see yourself reflected in her eyes, don’t hesitate.”

“But what about your track record?”

“My track record is not your track record. Don’t look at my life and see yours. Because it isn’t. And your mother’s track record isn’t yours either. If this girl’s not abusive — words and deeds, remember — then go get her. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.”

“What if—“

Silence.

“What if what?”

“What if my track record… is my dad’s?”

“You get angry around her? You haven’t hurt her, son?”

“No! No way! I mean… I knocked her over once — but that was an accident! I swear! I wasn’t mad at her. She was trying to help calm me and I shook her away and she fell, but I didn’t want to hurt her! And she wasn’t! She was fine. She said so!”

Wayne gripped the steering wheel just a bit tighter. He let out a slow breath. “I’ve known you your whole life, Eddie. You’ve got your mother’s heart but you do have your dad’s temper. Fortunately, you can be calmed pretty easily. Did you spot that you knocked her over right away or did it take—“

“Right away,” said Eddie. “No question.”

“And you apologized?”

“Are you kidding? I was practically losing my shit that I did it. But then she smiled at me and I—“

“And all was forgiven,” Wayne finished. Eddie nodded.

“And then she kissed me,” Eddie said softly.

“And did you kiss her back?”

Eddie nodded.

“And she doesn't know you like her?" Wayne shook his head and smiled to himself. "So what’s the problem?”

“What if I do it again? What if she thinks I'm like my dad and walks away? What if she runs? What if she’s too ashamed of me to really be with me? She’s a Loch Nora chick. You know: money.”

“Oh? Well…. She sounds pretty invested as it is,” Wayne said, “for a girl that doesn’t know you like her.” He brought his truck to a stop at their trailer, having backed up behind it, the tailgate end facing the concrete slab and wooden housing they had built. He turned off the engine. “What you’re afraid of sounds pretty normal to me. What do your instincts tell you about her?”

Eddie shrugged. “Our beginning was…kinda wild? She was using me as kind of a fake boyfriend to get back at the cool kids and I let it go, but then it started getting weird and I guess she felt it too, because she had a change of heart and now I’m so turned around by her…” He took a breath. Christ, he was beginning to nervously ramble like you do. “I think my compass is just spinning and spinning. I have no north anymore.”

“Sounds complicated.”

Eddie nodded. Wayne laid a hand on his shoulder. “Women are. Relationships are. But boy are they worth it when you get it right. Stick around her. See how she is with you around with no strings attached. Maybe that compass of yours will find north in the end.”

Eddie considered this for a moment until his uncle patted him on the shoulder and woke him up. “Come on. Let’s get that beauty hooked up.”

~080~

Eddie had sat on the couch for as long as he could stand it. Your apology from yesterday and Wayne’s words from that day had been running around in his head all afternoon and evening and they were eating his brain. He had never looked forward to a Monday at school before, but he needed to be around you again. He needed to see you, to hear you, to flash a smile and see if you returned it among all the other people there. He sighed for the millionth time as he stared through the Gunsmoke rerun on the television.

“Jesus, Ed,” his uncle had said, exasperated, “Just go to bed.”

That tore it.

“I’m gonna go for a drive,” Eddie had said, slapping his hands on his knees and getting up. He grabbed his keys and his jacket. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Wayne had given him an evaluating stare. “I’ll be here.”

Eddie had nodded to him and had left with the familiar slap of the screen door echoing behind him.

He drove aimlessly as the sun set on Hawkins. Normally, his metal music would be blaring, but tonight he hadn’t bothered with any music. He didn’t want to drown out his thoughts, he wanted the drive and the night to take them - and for the most part, it was working. He lit a cigarette at a lonely stop sign and rolled down his window, exhaling smoke into the autumn air. The smell of rotting leaves and burning wood from someone’s fireplace mingled with the cold as he drove off again. The streets were quiet. He wondered when the dance was supposed to begin. He wondered how you looked. He wondered if you were having fun. But he didn’t wonder hard enough to actually drive to the school to find you. That would have been too real.

Street lights gave a hazy yellow glow to the road ahead as he rounded Lover’s Lake. He thought of hanging at Rick’s, but that would only end in a drunken weed haze and not get him back in those couple hours he promised Wayne. Then he’d hear it. Nah. Not worth the struggle.

Night darkened quickly this time of year and he wanted more of the eerie gloom. He chose an unlit back road that led to just above and over the quarry. There was a small patch on the shoulder where he parked his van. He sat there for a minute in the silence and finished his cigarette, willing the thought of you out of his head for the millionth time. He crushed out the butt and flicked it off into the dirt. Passing a hand over his face, he gave a soft groan and, for the sake of his sanity, played radio roulette. He turned the knob and stopped on the first song that caught him. Static crackled and snapped as this announcer voice passed by that commercial and this sugary pop song until Bob Seger sang to him to “Turn the Page”: a song about a lonely musician with long hair out touring away from family and everything familiar. Perfect.

Later in the evenin’

As you lie awake in bed

With the echo from the amplifiers

Ringin’ in your head

You smoke the day’s last cigarette

Rememberin’ what she said

He listened to its finish and turned the radio off, allowing the night to swallow him again. He closed his eyes, he saw you in his mind’s eye all apologetic and sad. He remembered his hands rubbing against your upper arms, comforting you. You had called yourself horrible things, but he hadn’t bothered to correct you. He had been too busy holding onto himself emotionally. You weren’t a bad person. But he had been. He should have just accepted your apology and ended your self-torture, but he didn’t.

He turned off the engine and the lights. There was a rusty guard rail running along the edge of the quarry but he easily clambered over it. He moved carefully to the edge, peering over it in the moonlight. The water was dark and still at the bottom. A void that, if he were in any other mindset, he probably could have flung himself into with little thought. He felt like shit about you and what his next steps should be, but he wasn’t feeling that badly. Instead, he sat with his feet dangling over the edge of the drop and took another drag.

To his side was a rock the size of a cantaloupe. He couldn’t resist. He picked it up and, one-handed, shot-put style, chucked it into the void below. There was a space of nothingness where only the breeze in the boughs around him could be heard. Then, with a sad finality, he finally heard the splash he anticipated. Goddamn, that was a long way down.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He threw another. This rock was a bit smaller and he tossed it high, outward from his position, his eyes attempting to track its descent futilely because even though the full moonlight was bright, the depth of the quarry swallowed everything visible. Again, the anticipation of the sound was more dreadful than the actual satisfaction of hearing the landing. A small splash echoed back up to him and he breathed again.

Small ripples caressed the shore of the quarry. He heard them more than saw them, although the water’s surface was accessible far below him just off the access road. Due to the angle of the shore he was able to see the soft waves lap gently there in the moonlight until they finally stilled. He threw another rock, watching and waiting for the splash and then seeking out the ripples against the shore far below. He counted elephants to himself: “One-elephant-two-elephant-three….” It was four and a half elephants to hear the splash and another nine until he saw the ripples. The anticipation of both was palpable.

Funny how mere seconds could be so long. Or how days could stretch into years. Sunday still lay before him. All in all, it was about 36 hours by his reckoning before he would be heading off to school. It seemed like 4 million years.

He wished he could touch you again. He wished he could bring you here to sit in the quiet and the stillness. He wished he could apologize to you for being kind of a dick. No. A total dick. The lyrics of the song echoed back to him like the splash from the stones below:

You smoke the day’s last cigarette

Rememberin’ what she said

Lights appeared on the access road below. A car stopped. Someone got out. The lights of the car were on and the car radio echoed tinnily against the carved stone walls. For a moment, Eddie wanted to flee but his legs betrayed him; he never moved. He was frozen. He soon discovered that it was the perfect vantage point. The individual walked in front of the lights completely ignorant of his presence. The figure was small, but they had a massive voice the echoed off of the walls of the quarry, startling some birds in the trees. “Eddie Munson! Get the fuck out of my head!”

He started at the sound of his own name, but then he registered who it was that was below him. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. He looked up at the sky briefly, “Mom, are you seeing this?” before he crushed out his cigarette, got to his feet, and watched you stoop and pick up the first stone skipping it along the water, ripples breaking and mixing in the shine from the headlights. Then another. Then another.

~080~

You really hoped your friends forgave you for ditching them but as you pulled up to the old quarry, you realized that you didn’t care. It was only a stupid dance. A dance that you were going to go to with all your female friends and try and have a good time? Nope. No chance. The radio was playing some soft rock when you put your car in park and turned off the engine, but engaged the ignition to keep power to the radio and lights.

The night was bitter and cold. You had brought your winter coat and wrapped it around yourself as you got out of the car and walked around the dirt road leading up to the water. You were instantly reminded that you were wearing your black stirrup pants under your denim pencil skirt, paired with black flats; your ankles were practically made of ice as soon as you stepped out of the car, but you wanted to feel the bite of it. You wanted to feel small and cold. It was your penance for being a horrible person.

The wind in the trees that surrounded the area, the faint music from your car, and the odd call of a night bird were the only sounds. The lights from your headlights reflected off the water and made shadows against the far quarry wall. It was spooky here all alone. You could see why it was a great make-out spot. Anyone would want to cuddle toward someone else, if only for a sense of security. You let out a deep sigh and watched your breath fog drift away.

Your day of cleaning had moved into running errands with your parents in the afternoon: grocery shopping, dry cleaners, and a trip to the watch maker’s so your dad could get his grandfather’s pocket watch cleaned. The late afternoon had been filled with talk of the dance. You had headed back to your room and called Gail. “Pick up Marie, will you?”

“Why? What happened?”

“I’m not going.”

“No! What? You said you would!” Gail had whined your name and it killed you to hear it.

“Sorry, Gail, but I just can’t. I can’t be happy. Not yet.”

“What is going on between you and Eddie?” she had asked. “Last I knew he kissed you and then ditched school.”

“Yeah. Then I saw him last night and I apologized.”

“For what?”

Gail had had no idea the whole thing was a set up, so of course she was confused. But you hadn’t wanted to explain it to her. She might have thought worse of you if she had known, so you had decided to dodge the bullet. “I didn’t exactly treat him well.” And here you had sighed, guilt still nibbling at your guts. “But he didn’t forgive me, so I guess we’re kind of through.”

“Jesus. That didn’t last long.”

“It’s okay. My relationships never do. S’why everyone thinks I’m this virgin,” you had said.

Gail had grunted in annoyance. “Listen, if Eddie shows up at the dance or any afterparty we go to, I’m going to kill him!” she cried. “Why is he dodging you? You apologized for whatever it was you said or did, so clearly you like him – though God knows why – but he really shouldn’t turn up his nose at you. You’re a hell of a catch – and better than he could ever hope to do. Honestly, he doesn’t deserve you.”

You had brushed off her insult to him/compliment to you. You hadn’t had the strength for that battle. Instead you had decided to refocus her attention. “You were invited to an afterparty?” you had asked, truly curious.

“Well, no,” Gail had admitted. “But there’s still time. My point is: if I see him, he’s dead meat. I’ll claw his eyes out.”

“Don’t do that,” you had said. “I like his eyes. And besides, you might break a nail.” There had been a pause during which you knew she was checking her well-manicured nails.

“True,” she had finally agreed. “Well, anyhow. What are you going to do with your night? Spend it with the ‘rents?”

“Oh God no. I have other plans. But if they ask: I met all of you at the school and had a blast. Okay?”

“Okay,” she had agreed. “See you Monday, mopey.”

You shivered against the cold and wondered why you had bothered to leave your house for this place, but you needed the time by yourself. The gloom only added to your mood.

“EDDIE MUNSON, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!” you screamed and then pierced the night with a genuine shriek of frustration and anger. Your voice was amplified and echoed all over the quarry. Night birds startled in the trees that surrounded you and you were grateful and more than a little fearful that you were in a place where you could scream your brains out and no one was around to hear and call the cops.

Breathing hard, you held your hands to your head and ran them through your hair. “Nothing to be done, girl,” you said to yourself. There were many pieces of flat pieces of shale at your feet. You kicked at them idly, but decided to pick up a few to skip across the still water. The splashes echoed a bit and the ripples glittered waves in the glow from your car’s headlights behind you.

Five skips.

Four.

Six.

Five.

Only the radio kept you company as you wasted your night alone with the water and the stones and your thoughts about Eddie Munson. How could he be so funny and kind and so cruel and cutting toward you all at the same time? It was like he was punishing you for more than the crime you committed. With every rock you threw, you felt a tiny bit better, so you kept at it. You didn’t know how long you’d been there, but you groaned when you felt additional lights on you and heard the sound of another approaching vehicle.

You suspected it was some of the local kids from Hawkins here for a make-out session. If they found you here on your own, they would paint you as a loser and you felt your heart race as the light flashed across your face and the vehicle slowed to a stop next to yours. It was too late to hide. Fuck.

The lights of the car went out and the moonlight took over. Eddie’s van appeared before you, dust from its tires blowing away in the wind behind it. Eddie himself jumped out of the driver’s seat and slammed the van door behind him. He strolled forward toward you, his hands in his jacket pockets, a smile on his face.

“Imagine my surprise, running into you,” he said.

Instantly, you were aware of how alone you two were. That smile of his was disturbing. Instinctively, you backed up a pace. “Yeah,” you laughed nervously. “What are you doing here?”

Eddie read your body language instantly. He held up his hands and stopped moving, saying, “Hey, hey. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You did a good job anyway,” you said, your arms crossing protectively across your chest.

“Sorry,” he said. He meant to add: And while I’m at it, I’m sorry for everything else too, but he didn’t. He just stood there dumbly and waited.

“I was enjoying my solitude,” you said, turning and picking up another stone to throw. You curled it in your hand, took a step, and threw your arm swinging outward. Six skips that time.

Eddie whistled low. “You’re pretty good.” He looked around his feet and came up with a stone. He threw it. Two skips. “And I suck,” he said with a short laugh.

You didn’t say anything at first. He was the last person you wanted to see. But what was twisting you from the inside was that he was also the only person you wanted to see. You hucked another rock and he paid you another compliment. What was his deal? The last time you saw him, he kissed you and then dropped you like a hot rock when his friends found you both in that compromising position. Something in you boiled over.

“Look, why don’t you go away? Huh?” Your throat was suddenly raw with hurt. “You don’t like me? Fine. I don’t need you to like me any more. I’m done. You win. You get to hate me with the burning passion of a thousand suns. And your plan now is - what? - to torture me? To hang around until guilt chokes me and swallows me whole? What more do you want? Do you want me on my knees begging your forgiveness just so you can stand there and laugh at me with your friends?”

You had no plans to get on your knees for Eddie Munson.

“N-no,” he stuttered as his brain conjured up a totally inappropriate image. “I gave it some thought. You’re driving me nuts, but I was pretty cold to you back at Cosmo’s.” Here you barked a short sarcastic laugh. “And then you were crying and then I knocked you over…and then we, uh. And then I just left you there. It was pretty shitty, you know? So I couldn’t get all of that out of my head. I was just trying to tell you that I’m okay now. That I… forgive you. And that I’m sorry too.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Eddie gave you a sideways look and continued, guarded, “So if you want…,” he began slowly, “…I’d like to make it up to you. But only if you want.”

“Make it up..?” you managed.

“Yeah, you know… dinner, a movie. Real boyfriend shit. Things like that. If you want. I mean, I could make it up to you by staying the fuck away too, but I’ll be honest: I don’t want to do that.”

All you could do was blink and barely breathe as he went on: “I want to hang out with you. You’re funny. And smart. And I like you…?” His voice petered out weakly at the end, his voice lilting up into a question.

In the awkward silence that held dominion over you both in that moment, he held out a stone for you to take. “Here,” he said, “throw this and think it over.”

You were too torn up to see the rock in his hand. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Relief flooded your senses and you felt cracked in half. One side of you wanted to hit him hard. The other wanted to fall into his arms. Mechanically, you reached out your hand. The stone was small and warm from his hand. It was three-sided and fit perfectly into your palm.

“Bit small for a skipping rock,” you whispered.

Eddie shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll make it work. You can do anything.”

“Anything except understand you, Eddie Munson,” you said flatly. You regarded him for some time as he kicked at the shale and avoided your glance.

Eddie could feel your stare and from somewhere deep inside him, he heard Wayne’s words about the complexity of women: …boy are they worth it when you get it right. Stick around her. See how she is with you around with no strings attached. Maybe that compass of yours will find north in the end.

Buoyed by this, he rounded his shoulders in a carefree shrug. “All part of my charm, sweetheart,” he quipped, that trademark grin, the one you had been waiting for for all this time, was right back on his face.

You little shit, you thought. You squeezed the stone in your left fist and moved to him, completely prepared to sucker-punch his smug little face.

The closer you got, the more your heart ached. You wanted to strangle him. But in the end, you just needed to touch him. “You are the single most infuriating person. I swear to God,” you said and wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him with everything you had.

His arms came up around you and held you close. Nearby, the radio DJ decided to put one of your favorite songs on. You always thought it so sad, because you’d never been treated like the woman in the song by anyone, but now, you noticed as your hug broke, Eddie swayed with you in his arms to the beat of it. He reached up and took your right hand in his left and pressed his cheek to yours.

“If that’s a yes, then I think I’ll start by dancing with you, if that’s okay,” he whispered.

You were dizzy, but Eddie’s body braced you, his arm around you supported you, his skin against yours warmed you and you had never felt more cherished. It was breathtaking how gentle he was. He brought your hand to his chest and covered your hand over his heart, warming your fingers as the music and the night surrounded you.

I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight

I’ve never seen you shine so bright

I’ve never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance

They’re looking for a little romance, given half a chance

And I have never seen that dress you’re wearing

Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes

I have been blind

The lady in red is dancing with me (cheek to cheek)

There’s nobody here

It’s just you and me

It’s where I wanna be

But I hardly know this beauty by my side

I’ll never forget the way you look tonight

He pulled away from you when the song faded away. “How was that? I mean, I know it’s not the Sadie Hawkins or anything, but-“

You kissed him.

In the whole of your life, you had never been this frustrated by or been made to feel this helpless by a man. You had never had a man hold you like you were delicate or precious. You had never felt his kiss kill you and give you life all at the same time. But here, on the edge of the black pool of an abandoned quarry in a remote section of Indiana, you felt the universe turn around you and the world shift as your fingertips brushed his jaw.

You were suddenly hyper-aware of him: his taste, warmth, pressure, scent. All of Eddie surrounded you and you wanted more. You wanted to crawl inside of his jacket and hide in his pocket. You wanted him to hold you and dance with you and talk to you. For this night and every night.

Eddie was stunned to his sneakers. He never expected you to kiss him. The hug was already a shock, but this? No way. Even after everything that had already happened between you, he would never have predicted it. In fact, when you had first walked up to him, he could have sworn that you were going to clock him right in the face. But then you didn’t. And then the song came on.

It was a little sappy for his taste, but he had heard it plenty of times in all sorts of places and when he paid attention to the lyrics, he realized that it was perfect for just this moment. After all, you were stunning and he felt so lucky to be here alone with you. And he did rob you of the chance to go to the dance with him. He owed you a dance at least.

And now this. He felt terrified to take more from you, but that’s all he wanted to do. He wanted to usher you into his van and kiss you everywhere. He wanted to spend the rest of the night here, if you’d let him. He felt your chilly fingertips touch his jaw and instinctively, he took your hand and held it.

Your glassy-eyed stare was all he needed to see. He was sure that his looked the same to you. Holding your gaze, he slowly kissed you again. This time, he let it linger. This time, he didn’t run.

“Eddie,” you whispered.

“Yeah?”

“You really want to date me for real?”

Eddie laughed and his hold on you released. His laugh busted out into a howl. He doubled over with it and stumbled a few paces away.

You watched him cackle and the longer it lasted, the more you found yourself becoming angry. “Edward Munson! Was this all just a trick to get me to kiss you again?”

His eyes flew wide and the laughter stopped immediately. “No no! Nooo! No, sweetheart, no!” He came to you and held both of your hands which you had balled into fists. “I’m not laughing at you at all! I mean it! I really did! It’s just- you asked me if I was for real and you- well, you’re you! You’re you and you’re asking me if I want to date you for real? You do remember that I’m the freak of Hawkins High and that you’re the Unattainable Ice Queen, right?”

“I do,” you said, thoroughly confused. “I mean- I didn’t think you liked me. That’s all.” You looked up into his dark eyes. They held a gentle humor and matched his soft smile.

“I know I gave you that impression in no uncertain terms, but…” He sighed and dropped to one knee. “You are the single most intelligent and beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on and it would be my undying honor to take you out on all the dates ever for as long as you can stand to be around this feeble excuse for a man.”

“Oh.” You wanted to kiss him so damn badly, but it took your stuttering brain too long to put the rest of your body into motion to do it. He stood.

He held up your left hand. “Aren’t you going to throw this?” The stone still lay in your palm, warm and solid.

“What? You want me to throw away your fake-aversary gift to me?”

“Honey, it’s a rock.”

“Yes. It’s a rock shaped like your guitar pic,” you said, flicking the plastic pendant for emphasis. “It’s also sort of heart-shaped, which is nice.” You pocketed the stone.

A slow grin spread across his face and he bowed his head, shaking it slowly. “You know, I think you might be weirder than me.”

“Then that makes us a pretty good match, don’t you think?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” he said. For a moment, neither of you spoke and the DJ’s voice came through. “Hey, uh… you may want to shut off your radio and your lights or you won’t have juice in your battery.”

“Oh damn!” You ran to the car and did as he told you.

“Now start it up,” he said, fully prepared to grab his jumper cables if you needed them. “See if she cranks over.”

The engine stuttered but caught and you breathed a sigh of relief. Eddie wandered over to your window. You lowered it. “My knight in shining armor. My parents would have killed me. Especially since they think I’m at the dance,” you said, smiling. “You do know how to save a girl, don’t you, Munson?”

The grin on his face was contagious, but he shrugged modestly. “I do my best for any maiden in distress, but… well…”

“Well?”

You are my maiden to rescue, aren’t you?” he asked, uncertainly. You smiled at him and leaned toward him, making your wordless answer unmistakable. He smiled and leaned in gently, kissing you softly. In the span of time it took for his lips to meet yours and part again, he knew he didn’t want to push you. Everything was too new. It was too delicate. He didn’t want to crush this thing before it had a chance to exist. “Now,” he said, clearing his throat and looking at his watch, “it’s not completely late, but you did lie to your parents. If you’re feeling guilty about it, you may want to head home. Besides, it’s freezing out here. I’ll see you on Monday, okay?”

The clock on the dash said 8:40. That wasn’t late at all. Why was he calling you his maiden, kissing you, and then pushing you away?

Your confused look must have moved him. “You can have my number?” he offered. “Just to let me know you got home okay?”

You nodded dumbly and you exchanged numbers. Eddie wrote yours on his arm with a pen from your purse all the while thinking, baby steps baby steps baby steps…gotta move slow…

As he passed before your headlights again, your stubborn resolute nature found a voice. It was too soon. You didn’t want to do anything but be with him. Plus, your curfew wasn’t until midnight anyway. You easily had just under four hours to burn. You opened your door and with one foot in the car and the other one out, you leaned one hand on the roof and shouted to him: “Hey! Are you hungry? I have pizza money. We could go into town. If you want?”

Eddie stopped short. Your voice was a shock. Are you hungry? He paused, but in the next second he was thinking of where he could take you on the money he had coming to him next Saturday from Rick. He wanted to take you to Clark’s Diner or The Harvester’s, some place that was nice, but not Enzo’s nice. But then he registered what you said after that: pizza? His stomach growled. “Sure,” he said. “Larry’s?”

“Larry’s Pizzeria it is.”

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