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#Another asking 'so is Bill gonna show up'
tswwwit · 2 years
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Have a very long post with many dumb jokes and also pornblography! I do not have a title for it yet because my brain is very bad and titles are hard. Again, NSFW! And it's just about 16k words so beware of Long Post.
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Dipper shoves himself out of the water, shaking mud out of his hair. He coughs, twice, then gasps, sucking in the air.
Did it work-?
He struggles to his knees, churning up the muddy silt from the lakebed, and looks over towards the treeline.
Smoke from the explosion drifts over the treetops. The forest is rife with birds flying away and scattering animals, the fire low in the distance - And judging by the state of the beach, uh. 
There’s a jumble of stuff that looks like charred driftwood. Until you look at it closer.
Dipper sits back, water sloshing around his waist. He lets out a slow, shaking breath.
Yeah. It worked. 
The other monstrous mess on the shore is standing among the wreckage. Intact, smug, handsome. Other adjectives that are less flattering. 
And he’s doubled over laughing.
“You shoulda seen it!” It wasn’t that funny, damn it. Absolutely not knee-slappingly funny, but try telling that to this asshole. Bill does it again, cackling. “You took off so fast it was like-” He makes a gesture that might be a fish leaping, or a particularly inelegant human flailing in an arc. “And the landing!”
Dipper lifts a hand from the muck to flip him off. Not very seriously; he’s too relieved that it’s over with to get truly mad.
A stupid insane plan. An effective plan. Not entirely Bill’s idea, though he went along with it easily enough; he loves danger. 
Though Dipper’s pretty sure Bill’s contribution to the explosive curse could have been at least halved. It’s something to keep in mind for later. 
He gets up slowly, wiping off the mud and what water he can from himself. Trudging to the shore, wringing out his shirt. Now he really needs a shower.
Bill glances over him, hands on his hips. “You look like a drowned rat.”
Dipper gives his husband the same lookover, slowly, to make a point. “You look like a burned one.” Bill’s suit is almost entirely ruined. “With jaundice.”
Bill makes a mock gasp of offense, clasping a hand to the remnants of his shirt. It’s quickly followed by the resurge of the grin. 
“It mighta messed up my style a bit, sure.” Bill says with a shrug. The remnants of the yellow suit jacket cling to his elbows, and his hair’s a mess. “Yet somehow, I’m still better dressed!”
“That’s a matter of taste.” Dipper shakes his feet, trying to get some of the clinging water out of the cuffs of his pants. He knocks his shoes against the ground to clear some mud off. “Yours is bad.”
“This coming from the guy rocking ‘slime monster from the deep’.” Bill shakes his head. “That went outta style in the fifteen hundreds, easily.”
Dipper narrows his eyes, stalking closer until they could almost touch. He leans in, very close - Bill matches it, beaming with pleasure.
And with a satisfying ‘smack’, Dipper plants a palmful of mud right on his smug, asshole face. 
Bill splutters, and Dipper trails muck down his body in a straight line. One heading right from his stupid face, down over all the clean bits of his shirt.
“I dunno, Bill.” Dipper says, taking a step back as Bill’s expression turns from surprise to absolute indignance. Now he’s the one smiling. “I think it suits you.”
Bill blinks for a moment. Mud dripping off his chin, annoyance sliding off his face. 
His grin switches back on, wide and white. 
“Oh, you’re gonna get it for that insult,” He purrs. Dipper tries to dart back, but Bill already has a grip on his waist. “Come here.”
Dipper kicks his legs, he struggles and he swears - This impossible, terrible monster picks him up again, swinging him around.
And he’s laughing, despite all of that, when Bill dunks him right back into the lake. 
When they walk back to the Shack together, it’s long into the evening. The sun’s gone down, and the last bit of red is fading from the horizon. 
Bill swings their joined hands, humming a tune to himself. The other one lights up the way back, a bright blue flame over his palm. 
“Gotta love a good date,” He says, sounding deeply self-satisfied. The pace he’s taken is fast enough to make Dipper speedwalk. “It’s been too long!”
“You’ve been busy,” Dipper reminds him, nudging his husband with an elbow. Some crusted mud flakes off at the contact.
Bill breathes in, looking like he’s about to retort. Then sighs. “Yeah, fine. Gotta give ya that one.” Bill’s mouth purses in irritation. “What can I say! I got a lot of plans that need attention right now.” His eye glimmers in the dark of the evening, gold and brightly lit. “A lot of plans.”
None of which he’s telling Dipper about. 
“Have fun, I guess.” Dipper’s not going to ask. He knows better. “I hope you fail.”
Bill’s got his evil, demonic business - but to balance it out, Dipper’s got his own, human stuff. Sometimes, like their date, Bill even helps out with it. Despite being a demonic king of nightmares and torment, he’s easily coaxed into other stuff, if it’s entertaining. 
Though sometimes, it only means spending time with Dipper.
Bill always claims he didn't have anything better to do. There’s no guessing how true that is. 
“You’re a menace,” BIll says fondly, though his grin starts to fade. He slows in his tracks as the Shack comes into view in the distance. “And speaking of, I gotta get back.” 
Dipper halts in place. Turning towards his demon with an incredulous look. “Again?”
A few days apart is okay, Dipper guesses. Pretty normal, they have their own stuff to do. They  text or call everyday they can’t meet. That’s fine.
But it’s been way longer than a few days. 
It’s been ages since they’ve even seen each other, much less hung out, and they’re married. They finally made time for a date, everything was going well, Dipper was… kind of expecting more to the evening - 
And Bill’s just leaving? Now?
“I said I’m busy, sapling.” To his credit, Bill does sound like he regrets it. He winks, clicking his tongue. “I know, I know, you’ll miss me! Now c’mon, do the honors.”
The Mindscape, right. Sending him back to his realm of nightmares.
Dipper sighs. “Yeah, alright.” It’s part of their contract, anyway.
He sets a palm on Bill’s chest. It’s warm, with a rapid pulse under his palm. Some more mud flakes off from where it’s dried on the ruins of Bill’s shirt. He starts to concentrate -
“Ahem.” Bill clears his throat. One eyebrow raised. “Not the honors you should start with.” He leans in. This time, Dipper leans away. 
He knows what Bill wants. And he’s not doing it. Not in this state, and especially not when he’s ditching Dipper for some godawful reason.
Bill remains undeterred. “It’s demon stuff, Pine Tree,” He says, sounding a bit pouty. Knowing Dipper’s annoyed - but clearly not getting the reason, if he’s still taking off. “You don’t wanna hear it! Or get involved with it.”
And yeah, Dipper doesn’t. 
That doesn’t mean he can’t hate it from afar.
Bill moves in for a kiss again, and Dipper turns away. Again. They’re both filthy and he doesn’t want mud in his mouth. Spite, though, is definitely part of it.
“I’ll see you later, Bill.” He says, and shoves his idiot husband back into his stupid demon realm. 
Bill vanishes, instantaneously. Sometimes Dipper’s not a fan of the transition, it’s literally quick as thought -  but this time it means Bill doesn’t get to try whatever excuse he was coming up with.. 
Dipper shoves his hands in his pockets, head down. Stalking back home, and frowning.
‘Demon stuff’. 
Under any metric, their relationship is. Weird. 
Dipper stumbled into the demon side flirtation, and Bill knows how humans do things. They’ve been meeting somewhere in the middle ever since. Dipper’s learned a lot, and Bill knows humans. He’s even willing to dip his own toes into the typical human stuff, with surprising insight and the appropriate success.
Bill was even having fun earlier, with purely human things, that - had some violence, admittedly. 
But the explosion wasn’t what made Bill smile, and the litter of body parts didn’t make him laugh.
…Unless it did.
Dipper drags a hand over his face. He can’t deny that he’s hip-deep in the demonic side of relationships. It’s how they got their start.
No normal human would think exploding a corpse-eater was a date. It was demonic to its core - 
…And. Not a great one, apparently. 
Bill’s whole MO Is demonic stuff. He’s made for it, spent eons on it. It’s entertaining. Running off to do some ‘big plan’, sure, that makes sense for him. It’s more interesting. 
Why his husband doesn’t rank on Bill’s priority list is- 
Dipper drops his arm back to his side, before he burns another handprint into the doorframe. 
Whatever version of demonic ‘seduction’ Dipper’s managed to cobble together. It must not be very compelling. Bill’s interested, sure - but not enough to linger once things get boring. He thinks it’s totally fine to just take off at any moment. 
Dipper rubs at his eyes. He stands in the doorway of the Mystery Shack, looking up into the wooden slats of the ceiling.
But then  Human romance never worked out for Dipper. Then demon romance.... Kind of did? By accident. Under anyone’s critique, he’d rank far below expert.
Maybe…
He’s missing something? 
Obviously Dipper’s never going to catch Bill’s eye with human stuff, when it’s never worked on other humans  - and while he’s gotten a hang of demonic flirting, he’s never been a dating expert. 
Dipper drums his fingers against the doorframe, eyes narrowing. 
If it weren’t for everything else he has at hand. He might have been at a loss. But part of being married to a demon, and visiting his infinite terrible realm, means Dipper can get to things no other human could.
He nods once. Firm, and certain, clenching a fist.
It’s time to do research.
-------------------------------------------------------
Finding information about demonic courtship ends up far easier than he expected.
And less convenient than he hoped. 
Dipper should have remembered before he came up with this idea. His phone only works for contacting Bill whenever he wants. It’s powered by an infinite, triangular battery, its network hitching off a ride on a life-bond.
It made it easy to forget a very pertinent, pivotal point for his research.
There’s no internet in the Mindscape.
No demon worth their salt would give out free information. Sometimes they write things down, in diaries, dangerous tomes of spells, etcetera - but they’re hoarded like the precious things they are.
Instead, they go in hard on gossip. Everything’s up for trade as a favor, or used as a bribe. Knowledge is power, and in demon society? There’s always a power play going on. It’s a constant game of keeping their friends close, and their enemies closer. As far as Dipper can tell, the two are often the same thing. 
Deals were completely off the table, for marriage reasons. Bribes were okay, but hard to figure out. It could even have dragged Dipper into demon drama, which is something even Bill avoids. It could have been an ordeal that came a huge cost, one he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - pay. 
For once in Dipper’s life, he actually got lucky. 
Turns out being Bill Cipher’s spouse opens all kinds of doors.
A few comments, a couple of bribes - snack cakes are popular, he’s noting this all down later to share with Ford - and a few memorized threats? All while name dropping Bill? 
It got him everything he could ask for. 
….Considering the topic, there might also be gossip going on - but he’ll deal with that later.
Right now, Dipper kicks his feet up on the ottoman, and clicks his pen. Notebook ready, research material at hand.
No other human has ever had this much demon-made writing to go through. Not without having their eyes burned out of their skull, or their soul taken in a bargain. Dipper spends a moment feeling proud. 
It might be dangerous, but Dipper’s smart. He’s cautious. He’s got demon magic built right into his soul. He’s also got plenty of time, no sleep to worry about, and piles of resources, carefully gathered.
He’s got this.
Dipper picks a bit of spiderweb off the top magazine on his pile, and flips through it. Skimming over articles, pen at the ready.
And pauses. 
He flips a couple more pages, leaning back a little in his seat.
This. Isn’t what he expected. It’s also not not what he expected, but. It might be a fluke,  so he tosses that issue aside, picking up another.
Then another.
Dipper flips through a few more, with increasing desperation.
 In every issue -  in every magazine - The article titles shout back at him with their bright exclamation marks:
How To Get Them To Fight You In 10 Easy Steps!
Obtuse or A-CUTEY - How To Get In Shape For Summoning!
Top Twelve Exoskeleton Buffs for YOUR Intended!
Simple Ways To Even Out Your Angles In Just One Century !
Do They REALLY Hate You? Find Out With This Quiz! 
Dipper rubs at his eyes. 
Not… his best call. Getting his hopes up. Even thinking he’d get some kind of academic article was downright dumb. He knows that isn’t up most demon’s alleys.
Bill would know where to find studies, and statistics. If they exist. He likely has entire tomes on the subject, if only to laugh at them - 
And he’s the last person Dipper can ask. 
He ditches that idea, as well as the issue  of Cosmophage he was skimming through. He picks up a Playbaal instead. 
More of the same in this magazine. Though a lot more racy. Dipper makes a face at the letters to the executioner section - they’re gory and unbelievable. No human is that dumb, and that’s coming from him. Nobody offers themself up on a literal silver platter.
Two hours later, Dipper’s still made zero headway. He’s also slumped in his seat, almost lying down in the chair. 
At this point, it’s getting boring. 
He is learning a lot about demonic fantasies, and something of their proclivities - but he’d already known the basics. It’s only extrapolating from stuff he was already aware of, to absurd, insane degrees. It might as well be the internet for how true any of this bullshit sounds.
 Dipper keeps flipping through them, out of sheer repetitive motion. In this one, there’s a couple glossy pages in the center, easily opening to lie flat in his lap.
He blinks. He stares.
Dipper sits up with a sharp jolt. After a moment, he shakes his head, centering himself.
Right. It’s. The pinup photo. Magazines have those. 
He quickly checks the cover - it’s from about two hundred years ago. He makes a face. Still pretty weird.
…..He didn’t know Bill ever did that kind of thing.
In the photo, Bill - true Bill - lounges on his side, top point in his palm. His hat is off - weird - and there’s an artful drape of silk over where his tie should be. Or is? It’s impossible to tell if it’s on or not under the cloth. Likely that’s the point.
Dipper snorts, tapping the picture of Bill’s eye, twice. Then remembers - shit - startles, and claps the magazine shut, looking up and around. 
Thank hell, he’s still alone. Bill must not have been paying attention. 
God, if Bill caught him with this, he’d instantly make a whole host of assumptions, and grin like a maniac. Even worse, his ego would balloon into impossible dimensions.
Dipper thinks for a moment. Tapping the magazine on his lap. Then he shrugs, and carefully tears out the glossy photo pages. 
If he hides this in the right place, Bill might find it within the month.
Dipper crumples the rest of the magazine into a ball, glaring off into the distance, before dropping off the side of his chair. 
At least one good thing came out of this quote-unquote research. He’s barely learned anything. Other than that demons can be as absurd as humans, and he already knew that.
But. 
There has to be something here. These wouldn’t be the most popular works about demonic romance, among demons, if they didn’t have some grains of truth buried within. He just has to find them.
He’s already mastered parts of demonic seduction. Even started doing the regular kind, a little. He’s probably better at it than any other mortal around.
But that isn’t going to work with Bill this distracted.
Dipper clicks his pen, heaves a long-suffering sigh - and starts taking notes. 
He might as well try some new ideas.
Three Easy-Fake Injuries To Tempt YOUR Lover!
With a swear, Dipper stumbles, and falls. He hits the ground a little harder than he’d like, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Shit.”
Bill’s attention snaps towards him instantly. 
“What’s up?” Now he’s frowning, dropping his prey. “You trip or something?”
The demon Bill was berating shudders, sliding down to the floor in possibly boneless relief. They scuttle away over the black bricks on all twelve limbs.
“Mh,” Dipper grunts, shutting his eyes and hugging his leg himself. Keeping composed, and his face scrunched up. Holy shit, this actually worked - “Ow.”
"You gotta be the most unlucky human I've ever met." Bill stalks over, giving Dipper a derisive look. "Where'd you break this time?"
“Shut it.” Dipper says, annoyed. He couldn’t totally fake a fall, he’s not an actor. Bill would have seen through him immediately. Then admits, “It’s my ankle.”
Bill sighs, rubbing at his eye. His phone rings in his pocket, and he grumbles something inaudible. “Of all the-” He crouches down. “Alright, what’s the damage?”
“It’s fine,” Dipper says, honestly. Then Bill yanks his leg out of his grip, and okay, maybe this wasn’t the best approach.
DIpper winces, lying back on the floor. Bill rolls his eye, tugging his leg out further.
Adding some verisimilitude was the goal - but it ended up being a little too thorough.  Bill glares at Dipper's ankle like it's insulted him, and Dipper finds himself doing the same. It's less painful than he's acting - but more than he wanted it to be. Which was any.
Though as long as he has Bill here…
As Bill examines him, Dipper shifts his other leg away. And maybe tilts back a little. When he scoots a little closer on the floor, it helps to ‘accidentally’ pull his shirt up a bit. 
Bill hums for a long moment, eye narrowed as he toys with Dipper’s ankle, turning it this way and that. His eye flicks over Dipper, lighting up for a split second as it takes him in. 
Then he sighs, and stands. 
“Uh. Hey.” Dipper says. He clears his throat. Then smacks the floor next to him.  “Bill, I’m really vulnerable here.”
“Eh, you’re fine. It’s not even a sprain!” Bill shrugs, apparently dismissing him. He turns and glares down the corridor, hands on his hips. “Where the hell did that caterer go?”
Dipper leans back, elbows on the floor and legs spread. Glaring as he watches Bill walk away without even another glance.
Okay, technically that worked. Temporarily. 
But Bill’s too clever to be tricked by minor setbacks, and Dipper’s not willing to inflict something serious.
He’ll have to move on to something else.
Exotic Mortal Treats - GUARANTEED To Spice Things Up!
“So, uh.” Dipper winces at the crunching sounds. It’s louder than two granola bars combined.  “How is it?”
“Mh.” Bill sucks some unidentifiable goo off his finger, pulling it out of his mouth with a pop. “Nice, sapling!” He grins, and winks. “You should bring me snacks more often.”
Dipper offers an awkward smile. 
Bill shoves another scorpion in his mouth, and starts to crunch. His mood’s definitely picked up, at least. He starts picking some carapace from his teeth, leaning forward in concentration.
Beyond that, he doesn’t seem to react. 
Dipper pulls a chair over. He scoots a little closer, watching Bill work with… whatever he’s working with. He clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”
Bill’s manipulating some magical array with stars and planets slowly rotating on a field. He makes a face at it, muttering under his breath.
“I’m feeling like some of these idiots should help out with the setup,” He says irritably, smacking the wheel of not-space and making it spin. A long line of celestial bodies Dipper can’t identify line up in a long string, and a beam of light shines through them to another point. “Who’s doing all the heavy lifting here, anyway?
Dipper shrugs. He gazes moodily into the empty terrarium.
So much for that advice. He might as well have bought a bag of chips. It’d have been way cheaper, and he’d actually be able to eat some.
Bill’s busy with his project, and Dipper’s taking a backseat to some demonic ongoings. Which is. Y’know. Fine. It’s part of their deal; they both get to do their own things. 
Dipper taps his foot on the floor. Waiting. 
But, no. There’s no reaction. Hell, now that he thinks of it - If this was going to have an effect, Bill knew what he was eating. He would have gotten the implication, first thing.
Eventually, Dipper sighs. He leans on Bill’s chair. “What kind of party is this?”
Bill looks up, one eyebrow raised. Somewhat surprised.
Dipper doesn’t budge. Nudging Bill, and staying firm. Which only makes Bill look more surprised. 
Not without reason, either. Normally Dipper wouldn't want to know what Bill’s getting up to. They have kind of a live-and-let-live agreement regarding morality, each of them doing their own thing. Usually he prefers to not be in the loop.
This party has been interfering for way too long. 
“Eh, it’s one of those cosmic convergence shindigs,” Bill says, and shrugs. He leans back in his chair, rubbing at his eye. “Not mine, technically. But it’s a big deal!”
Dipper glances over the map of celestial bodies, spinning again in the lit-up illusion. 
Okay. Not a common occurrence. He’ll give it that.  “...How often does this happen?”
“About once a millenia.” Bill stretches his arms behind his head, starting to smile again. One of his first loves - over-explaining. “I’ve hosted it the last twenty, thirty times? Something like that.” He buffs his nails on his shirt, looking proud. “Nobody’s got a better event plaza.”
So that’s it, then. 
Dipper slumps back in his chair. He lets his arms drop to his sides.
Bill must get a text or something, because he checks his phone and starts frowning instantly. Starting to sulk a little as he fiddles with his map, and something else on a lit-up diagram. He makes a face, muttering under his breath about idiots, incompetents, and other idiosyncrasies.
…Setting up this party must be a headache and a half. 
If it’s an event that only happens every thousand years, it’s got to be important. No wonder it’s taking up so much time.
On the upside, once this awful event is over with, it’s not going to come up again soon. Bill can’t get distracted by it - Hell, Dipper won’t even be around for the next one.
A thousand years is longer than Dipper can imagine. Ten times longer than he could ever live. A human’s life is pretty small, compared to most supernatural beings.
On the timespan Bill’s working with, it’s barely a footnote.
Demon events have gotten between them before. Dipper’s own plans have caused scheduling conflicts, too. Interruptions happen, life throws curveballs at them, and they both get busy - 
But not for this long. 
Dipper starts to say something - then hesitates. He’s not sure what to say.
Bill sticks his tongue out, his focus torn between something with that array of spinning stars, and texting someone back. He’s muttering to himself, frowning. A foot tapping the ground in irritation.
…As far as Bill’s concerned, Dipper might as well have faded into the background.
Dipper rests his chin in his hands. Waiting might be pointless, but. He’ll stick around for a bit. In case it works.
He wants Bill to throw him into a lake, or tell him he’s stupid, pick him up and insult him. Or at least care that he’s around when he’s sitting right there - 
He drums his fingers on his knee, other leg jogging in place. 
Bill doesn’t seem to notice.
Dating The Vain Type? How To Get ALL Their Attention on YOU
“This tie?” Bill holds one up in front of himself, facing the mirror. “Ooor this one?” He holds up another.
Dipper doesn’t say anything as he stalks into the bedroom, hands shoved in his pockets. 
“Or this one!” Another tie pops up out of nowhere. “What’s a good look?”
Dipper shrugs. It doesn’t matter. Who cares, anyway.
“Speak up already, I need a second opinion!” Bill’s reflection in the standing mirror shows a slightly confused expression. “What’s with you?”
Dipper glares at his husband’s back, shrugging again. Bill makes a miffed sound, but so what? 
All Bill cares about is this event he’s throwing. He’s complained about it for weeks now, he’s had plenty of time to prepare. One small human’s opinion isn’t going to matter.
And if Dipper has to hear one more word about this godawful party…
“It’s happening tonight, kid!” Bill jogs both tie options in his hands, prompting. “It might not be my favorite occasion - but that’s no excuse for not looking sharp!” He turns towards Dipper with a wink. “C’mon, what’s good?”
Dipper stalks over towards Bill, ignoring his questions and the weird look he’s being given. He knows he’s tense, that he’s stomping on the carpet, and that this is pretty stupid - 
But it was in the article. 
And he’s kind of wanted to do this before, anyway.
He meets Bill’s eye, flips him off - and shoves the stupid standing mirror over.
The entire thing, brass stand and all, goes toppling to the floor. The metal hits the ground hard, sending the mirror shattering into a million pieces - and Dipper jumps in place, startled. 
Bill merely watches. A blank expression on his face, staring as his narcissistic toy gets moderately obliterated. 
The brass stand clangs on the floor for a while, then settles down. There’s a brief silence. 
Dipper takes a step back, awkwardly clearing his throat.
Shit, he thought that would be more durable. Most things in Bill’s place are impossible to break. Now there’s a billion tiny shards on the floor, glimmering up at him.
Though. The articles were technically correct. It did get Bill’s attention.
Dipper’s not sure what to say now.
Even Bill doesn’t have anything to say. He looks between the shattered mirror and Dipper, obviously surprised even seconds later. 
“...I take it that’s a no on both of ‘em.” He says, eventually. The smile doesn’t make a return.  He glances over, blinking rapidly. “What, did you wanna join the party?”
He’s still thinking about - how could he be - 
Dipper clenches his fists.
Time after time after time, Dipper’s heard about the drinks selection for a party, or the guest list. Even the games Bill has planned. He can’t help but ramble in his enthusiasm, until Dipper either has to leave the room, or cover his ears against it.
There’s been none of that for this event. 
It’s taken longer than every other one. It’s commanded too much of his time. Dipper hasn’t felt Bill watching him through either his regular gaze or his supernatural one, for weeks, and they only had one date this month.
Instead, Bill’s been doing setup - which he grumbles about - and worse, he’s had to organize. That always puts him in a bad mood. He’s bitched and complained, he’s made disgusted faces at his phone. He hasn’t rambled, or bounced in place. He hasn’t once looked happy about it. 
Hell. It’s not even his in the first place.
“I don’t know why you’re spending so much time on this crap.” Dipper meets his husband’s eye. He throws his arms out, incredulous. “Bill, you don’t even like it.“
Bill, for once, doesn’t have a response. 
He opens his mouth to say something - shuts it again.  He blinks rapidly, expression changing as he tries to work something out - it turns into a grimace - 
“I’m gonna go to take a bath.” Dipper says, shoulders rising -  and stalks off. 
Behind him, Bill remains silent. Thoughtful, and still.
-------------------------------------------------
Spending time at Bill’s place isn’t Dipper’s first preference. Spending time with Bill is the main reason to do so, because Dipper likes his time linear, his spaces Euclidean, and his company not cannibalistic. For every upside, there’s a definite down.
But if nothing else, the Fearamid has luxury in spades.
Dipper blows bubbles under the water of the bath. It staunchly refuses to stop being warm and comforting. 
The stupid soap even smells nice; Bill must have changed out the options. Dipper knows Bill’s paid attention to some parts of what he wants, including the little things like ‘no more titan arum scented stuff’. He knows Bill’s made it slightly more human-safe, because none of the water comes out literally boiling anymore. 
Dipper knows Bill knows these things. He knows a lot of things. Hell, he’s supposed to be ‘all-seeing’, so there’s no good reason some things still get overlooked - 
He also knows he’s sulking.
Bill can’t read his mind. That’s been a fact from the start. 
Without that advantage, Bill has to rely on all his other knowledge, and extrapolate. Most of the time he predicts him well enough that Dipper never gets a chance to speak up - 
So it strangely sucks when he doesn’t.
Sulking’s good, though. Dipper manages some impressive bubble piles, sloshing around in the water. 
He already knows what he should do. It’s the sensible thing. The human thing. It might even get Dipper what he wants, it just. 
…Also kind of sucks. 
If he stays any longer in the bath, his fingers are going to get all wrinkly. Or Bill will leave for the party, probably. He’ll miss his chance, and then, how will he bring up - 
Wait. 
There’s music, somewhat muffled through the wall between the bathroom and bedroom. 
Dipper sits upright, shaking some bubbles off of his face with a frown.
Bill’s playing piano. Which is weird. He only does that when he’s relaxed, and lately he’s been anything but. 
And if ever there was a sign, then he supposes this would be it. He tilts his head back, breathing in slowly. 
There’s the music.
Time to face it.
Dipper gets out of the bath, sitting on the floor near the edge. Kicking idly in the water as the music continues. Something bright and jaunty. A tune of self-satisfaction, and a perkier mood. He spends more time than he should toweling off. Pacing, back and forth between the hundred baths on the floor and on the walls. 
Eventually, he brushes his teeth, staring into a mirror that’s bigger than he is tall. 
Dipper makes a face at his own reflection. Walking into the bedroom with that expression is going to let Bill catch on, fast. 
….They should really be better at this. 
It’s been years.
Whenever Dipper has to say something, it always comes out awkward. He doesn’t know how to do it right. 
With Bill, he hasn’t had to come out and talk directly very often, which is something of a relief. 
He guesses it’s not a surprise, really. They’re the worst combination for true sincerity - a socially awkward nerd, and emotionally stunted jackass. The fact that they get along at all is nothing short of miraculous. 
They’ll just have to…Sort it out.
Dipper nods at his reflection. He takes a deep, calming breath, and lets it out.
The good news is he looks more certain than he feels, even as he heads towards the door. 
Their bedroom is the same as always - once you allow for the fact that it changes on a whim, parts clicking in and out of place on sheer demonic will - and the carpet is soft on Dipper’s bare feet. 
He drops the towel to the floor, and tries to finger comb his hair. It buys him time, while he thinks about how to start. He doesn’t want to turn towards Bill, feeling weird about their earlier interaction - but he glances over, just once.
Where Bill’s leaning from his perch on the piano bench, tilted at a dangerous angle. 
Dipper looks away again, face feeling hot. He walks in a little further, and Bill tracks him, following his every move - 
…How Bill keeps playing when nearly horizontal is a mystery.
On the plus side, Bill’s fine. Cheerful, for the first time in a while. And the mirror’s gone too, which is a relief. The tightness in Dipper’s chest loosens a bit. 
Then he frowns, setting his hands on his hips. 
Where the hell is the dresser with his clothes. Bill better not have vanished it again.
There’s a low whistle behind him.
“Shut up,” Despite himself, Dipper smiles. “You’ve seen me naked before.”
“And I’ll see it five thousand times more!” Bill changes the song he’s playing. It’s lighter, and brighter. “At minimum.”
Likely he’s right about that. Dipper wishes he had something to toss at him, but he already dropped the towel. He rubs at one of his arms.
Being eyed up is. Not weird, but oddly comforting. Bill always ogles him like a creep. Always wanting a peek, or a look, or suggesting revealing clothing with a smile and wink, like the jerk he is. Partly because he is kind of a creep, but mostly because -
Because Bill thinks he’s hot. 
Even if Dipper knows he’s watching, Bill’s not going to stop watching, even if it’s awkward. Part of him must like the awkward, he’s never failed to find Dipper compelling, even when most human people would say he’s a huge dork. 
Bill literally has his eye on him, all the time. Always wanting to know what’s on his mind.
Dipper rubs a thumb over his left palm, and hears Bill make an annoyed sound. In his mind, he’s shouting at himself. 
Why did he bother with ‘research’? He was overthinking, again. He always does this. Which, if he’s right, and Bill likes it -  must be extremely compelling.
Behind him, Bill makes a curious noise. The bench makes a creak as he scoots over.
And Dipper shifts from foot to foot. 
If he’s going to do this, then. Second-guessing himself is going to get them nowhere. 
And all that demonic advice was terrible.
Obvious Come-on? More Like Obvious Turn-off - 10 Mistakes To Avoid!
For the second time tonight, Dipper does something he’s wanted to do before.
Damn it, he  doesn’t know what a seductive slink should look like. They’ve done it a lot, Bill’s never complained - but Dipper’s never intentionally looked sexy. 
In the end, he doesn’t bother. A walk is fine, if it gets him where he needs to be. 
Bill doesn’t move from his seat on the bench. He straightens up as Dipper approaches, looking pleased. He tracks Dipper until it’s impossible - he can’t turn his head 180 degrees. 
Once Dipper’s behind his target, he shuts his eyes. He’s got this. This will work - reassuring himself, while Bill keeps playing. Though his head is slightly tilted, listening. Expectant.
Bill isn’t expecting Dipper to drape himself over his shoulders. His shoulders rise as Dipper wraps his arms around them. There’s a sharp intake of breath.
“Sorry about the mirror.” Dipper squeezes his idiot husband, tight. Likely Bill doesn’t care, but someone has to have morals in this relationship. 
“I don’t care,” Bill says, very dry. Dipper can almost feel him roll his eye. Bill’s chest puffs out a bit as his posture changes, and there's a smirk in his voice. “Nice you’re still here, sapling.”
Dipper breathes in, and lets it out. 
Slowly, he runs a hand over Bill’s chest. The shirt is thin enough that he can feel the warmth underneath, easily - and Bill’s not wearing his tie. By his standards, he’s already a quarter naked.
So. This isn’t that weird. Half of the work is done for him.
When Dipper starts unbuttoning Bill’s shirt, he misses several notes. 
“Hello,” Bill says, a bit distant sounding -  before realizing that response was semi-brainless; he shakes his head. Looking down at his slowly opening shirt. “What’s this about?”
“I’m getting your attention.” Dipper smacks him on the side. Now that the shirt is half opened, he slides a hand underneath the fabric. “Jerk.”
“Done,” Bill sits up straight, raising his hands like he’s held at gunpoint. Dipper slides a hand over the warm skin of his chest, feeling the heart pick up its pace. “Actually, you can have all of it!”
And when Dipper strokes a thumb over a nipple, Bill gives a full-body shudder, and a soft sound from the back of his throat. 
Holy shit, it did work. It’s working perfectly - Dipper feels a surge of triumph. 
Not only did this do the trick, it was easy. It was simple. It’s even fun to slide his palm over Bill’s chest, to toy with a nipple, listening to him grunt a little and start clasping Dipper’s arm. 
Bill thinks he’s hot, after all. Bill wants him. 
Why did he think he needed to make it complicated? 
Dipper presses a few kisses onto Bill’s neck, feeling his chest still in a held breath - then moves onto the shell of Bill’s ear. He draws the earlobe into his mouth, biting gently.
“And come to think of it…” Bill’s tense, muscles drawn tight. Like he wants to surge up, while also not moving away. He raises one imperious finger, his voice is slightly rough. “I have been meaning to lavish my attentions on someone, recently.”
“Good plan.” Dipper hugs Bill tighter, then adds, “Since I wasn’t giving you a choice,” As he drags Bill backwards off the bench.
Bill nearly falls on his ass. Grabbing onto Dipper’s arms as he struggles to find balance, squirming in the grip, even the piano bench gets kicked over - 
And all the while, he laughs like a maniac.
He’s too quick, though. After only one severe stumble, Bill’s back on his feet before Dipper can react. 
Bill seizes Dipper in an instant, gripping his upper arms tight. His grin maniac, and his eye glowing bright. “Oh, sapling.” His voice is a low hum, teeth white and bared. “I'm gonna make you pay for that.”
“You can try.” Dipper says. He gets a grip on Bill’s lapels, hauling him in until they’re face to face.
God, finally. This is what he wanted, and it came so easily. Not only that, it’s way more fun than - 
Bill’s phone starts ringing again. 
Both of them glance down. Bill grimaces. He stops petting Dipper’s side to pull the offending item out of his pocket and glare at it. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
And Dipper… lets his arms drop. 
Another interruption, for an important event. Bill’s powerful, but even he can’t change time, not in any meaningful way.
Priorities mean that. Something else gets put on the sidelines. 
“Screw ‘em.” Bill declares suddenly, and hurls his phone across the room.
Dipper looks up just in time to catch the motion, as the offending object cracks against the wall over the headboard, bouncing onto the bed. 
“Total waste of my time.” Bill brushes his hands off, dismissive.  “If they can’t pull the convergence off without me, they didn’t deserve it in the first place.”
“Oh thank god.” Dipper didn’t mean to say that out loud - but now Bill’s looking at him weird, so he adds. “You’re not going.”
“Decided not to half an hour ago,” Bill says, with a shrug. That’s why his mood has picked up - Dipper stands a little straighter. “They shoulda gotten the picture when things got started without me.”
It’s already started. Bill should be there, and he’s spent a lot of time on this thing - Dipper hesitates. “Are you sure?”
“Definitely! You see- Hm.” BIll starts, then hems and haws. He’s also, very unsubtly, backing Dipper towards the bed. He takes a few moments, face scrunched up, before admitting, “You had a decent point.”
Dipper blinks for a moment. Wow. Now that’s rare.
But he’s not too surprised to let it slide. 
As Bill pushes, Dipper lets his feet dig into the carpet, and adds a palm on Bill’s chest. It draws them to a slow halt.  “You’re serious.”
“As a broken femur.” Bill declares. He squeezes Dipper’s waist, while a smile creeps back onto his face. “I’ve hosted this shindig nearly two dozen times, and every millenia they make it more of a drag.” He sticks his tongue out - then chucks Dipper gently under the chin. “Quick life tip, kid - if it sucks, stop doing it!”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dipper grabs onto Bill’s lapels again. There’s a smile threatening to emerge. Though, admittedly, he could be trying harder to hold it back.
“Good choice! It’ll keep ya from getting stuck in a routine.” Bill shudders dramatically, and starts backing Dipper up again. After a second he pauses -  and presses a quick, wet kiss on Dipper’s forehead. “Your little reminder came in handy.”
Dipper reaches up from Bill’s lapel, and cups his cheek. Feeling his demonic grin widen under his palm - and feeling oddly touched. 
Though he knows Bill can be fooled, it doesn’t make the rare moments when he is less surprising. Knowing that Dipper was right feels triumphant, and good. Knowing that Bill could have gotten stuck without a reminder. 
It's also a reminder for Dipper. He is smart, and Bill likes that -
Dipper��s legs hit the edge of the bed, and he jabs his husband in the chest. Very lightly, not more than a prod. "Not going to miss the party?"
“Hardly! That crap’s about as amusing as paperwork.” Now Bill’s grin is truly, monstrously wide. He tilts Dipper over the bed, gripping tight to his waist - and winks. “I’d have way more fun playing with a drowned rat.”
“Asshole,” Dipper says, and kisses him.
Bill returns it with enthusiasm. More than a bit of groping. A slow lean over, that Dipper lets happen until he’s nearly horizontal, only his grip on Bill’s shirt keeping him upright. 
Part of him feels warm, and good. Another wants to push Bill on the bed, but mostly he’s amused, because Bill messed up. 
He went and admitted something. 
“You can’t take it back now, Bill.” Dipper sits down on the bed, escaping Bill’s grasp. Albeit temporarily. As Bill pouts over his temporary loss of prey, Dipper smiles, and jerks a thumb at himself, “You think I’m fun.”
“Eh, I’ve met worse.” Bill takes a hold of Dipper’s shoulders, slowly eyeing him up and down. “If I knew how fun you were gonna turn out in bed, I woulda kept you all to myself.” He kisses Dipper once, then moves onto his cheek, and his neck, leaning him further onto the bed. “Shoulda taken you back home and never let you leave.”
“So. Kidnapping, basically.” Dipper braces his elbows on the bed, letting Bill work over his neck, then his shoulder - then grimaces. “That… would have been a disaster.”
If Bill pulled that, Dipper would have been too alarmed to respond the way Bill wanted. Taken away from his home to a strange place. By a total stranger, with unknown motives. Not to mention how Bill back then was… not the worst about bedroom things, but he was still a major asshole. Between Bill’s brash confidence and Dipper’s paranoid anxiety, that entire thing would have been -
“See, this is why playing doctor didn't work out, Mr. ‘I need to see your medical license’.” Bill smacks Dipper’s hip twice. It pulls him back into the moment. Bill raises an eyebrow. “It’s a game, sapling. Don’t take it so seriously.”
Damn it, he has a point. Roleplay always falls apart once Dipper starts picking at it; it doesn’t kill the mood, exactly. But it rarely works as intended.
Dipper wants this to continue. He wants to have fun, he wants to have sex, and Bill’s ideas are usually good in that regard -
Screw it, it is just a game. No reason to make it too complicated.
In essence, it’s pretty standard ‘ravishing by a demon’, and they’ve done that before. This time it’s with a distinct twist, one he hasn’t considered -  Dipper glances down at himself -  and his traitorous dick is responding. 
He wonders if he should have brought the collar. But technically speaking, if he was just kidnapped he wouldn’t have that yet. That’d be something Bill would give him later on, after -  
Also, he might be overthinking again. 
Maybe he should stop doing that.
 “Alright, I’m into it.” Dipper admits. He spreads his arms wide with a shrug.  “Have at me.”
“Great!” Bill beams, clapping his hands together. “Then let’s get our party started.”
And without warning, Bill hauls him up, lifts him bodily and chucks him onto the mattress. Dipper bounces in place, getting his bearings as Bill eases his way onto the bed. And over him.
“Glad to have you here, Pine Tree.” Bill leans in, bearing an ominous smile and too many levels of smug to unravel. He has more presence than he deserves. “You didn’t make that easy.”
“Why would I?” Dipper says, keeping his voice level. Slipping into the role is easy; and glaring is practically a habit. “You kidnapped me.”
“Chin up, sapling.” Bill says with a smile. Taking Dipper’s chin in hand, he tilts him up to meet his eye. “You’re really gonna like what’s in store.”
“Cipher,” Dipper hisses, gripping the sheets tight. He scrambles back on the bed, slow enough to let Bill follow at a crawl. “Whatever you’re planning, you won’t get away with it.”
“Is that so?” Bill raises an eyebrow. Eying Dipper, up and down with a slowly growing smirk. “You’re a little underdressed for thwarting, kid.”
Dipper jerks back, indignant. “You stole my clothes.” 
The accusation in his voice isn’t entirely feigned. The dresser was gone when he came back from his bath, damn it. He should have noticed. He tries to haul the sheets up around himself, but their mutual weight stops him. 
“Surprise!” Bill says delightedly. He wiggles his fingers at Dipper, sitting up on his knees.  “I’ve had my eye on you for a while.”
Dipper manages to turn his laugh into a grunt, close-lipped.
“What do you want from me?” He presses his back against the headboard. Retreating was useless - Bill only needs to lean in and he’s caged in by his arms.
“Hm. Decent brains, interesting body - way more into demons than you’d admit,” Bill says, nonchalant. One hand presses Dipper’s hip down firmly, holding him still. A thumb traces over his skin, a short distance away from his rising cock. “And packed chock full of lust.”
“That’s not an answer.” Dipper’s face is red now. He braces his arms against the wood behind him. “I’m not -” But that’s visibly a lie - “I mean. What does lust have to do with-”
“Oh, you and I are gonna do some things!” Bill’s thumb slides over the soft skin on the inside of his thigh. The other hand rises, and snaps its fingers. “Lots of things.”
Sudden, rapid thumping makes Dipper nearly jump off the bed, as a shower of ropes, sex toys, and other lewd accoutrement plummet out of nowhere. 
A dildo poings off his thigh, and something rubbery bounces off the mattress and rolls off the side. There’s a scatter of ropes at the foot of the mattress, while leather manacles manifest on the headboard. 
Dipper gives all of it a cursory look. Then another, more cynical one at his idiot husband.
“Pretty much all of these things.” Bill says, with no shame whatsoever. He grins down at Dipper like he’s about to unwrap a present. “Along with everything else I can think of!”
“Now I get it.” Now Dipper’s glaring in earnest. A few things would make sense, fine. This is just overkill. “You’re a pervert.”
“Takes one to know one!” Bill grabs Dipper’s shoulders and pulls, startlingly fast. Dipper’s head thumps softly against the pillow. His legs are spread around Bill now, and there’s a palm planted on the center of his collarbone. “Glad you could join me.”
Dipper grabs onto Bill’s wrist with both hands, squirming under the weight. He tugs, but not hard. “Why would I sleep with you?”
“To have the most fun of your life, duh.” Bill says magnanimously. He looms over him, pressure building on Dipper’s chest from his weight. Bill grins down at him, teeth bared in a vicious smile.  “We’re gonna have a great time together.”
Dipper shuts his eyes. 
With Bill over him like this, dangerous, half-feral, and smug - that sends a tremor through him, going right to his dick.
“See? I knew you’d like this, sapling.” Bill beams, and takes Dipper’s cock in his hand. Not firmly, just… touching. Hot enough to be tempting, loose enough to make Dipper want more of it.. “I’ve seen your dreams.”
“You-” Dipper can’t think of much to say. He lets go of Bill’s wrist, holds onto his arm instead. There’s a retort, somewhere. Except Bill knows how to touch him, and he’s stroking in earnest now, moving faster, holding tighter- “Damn it.”
“You’re real interested in demons. A downright obsession, some might say.” Bill’s voice is low in Dipper’s ear. He nips at it once, thumb spreading wetness over the head of Dipper’s dick. He rolls it around, listens to the groan - and chuckles. “Imagination doesn’t compare to the real thing, does it?”
God, Bill’s warm, and he’s talking, the bastard. That’s never good for Dipper’s stamina. Even worse, Bill slows down, staying firm enough to make him - Dipper pushes his hips up into Bill’s circling fingers-  “Ah.”
“Feels good, I know!”  Bill starts chuckling. He squeezes again, smacking Dipper’s thigh, just near his butt. “And there’s more where that came from.”
Dipper clamps his mouth shut. Adding a palm over it, for extra coverage. Another sound escapes, softer this time. He grits his teeth and turns his head, he can’t watch if he wants to last longer.  “You’re - too much.” 
“Oh, please. We’ve barely gotten started! You don’t know what you’re really in for.” Bill says with pleased fondness. He lets go suddenly - Dipper tries to chase his hand for a second, then balls his fists in the sheets. Bill’s sudden grin is feral, and smug.  “Lemme give you another taste.”
Dipper props himself up on his elbows. watching Bill duck down. Starting to plant kisses down his stomach, tongue trailing over his skin. He’s-
Dipper swallows, he tenses his thighs. Bracing for the inevitable.“Oh god.”
If Bill’s hand is unfair, his mouth is worse. He doesn’t give Dipper a break, just sucks him in. Too hot, extremely wet, with tongue sliding up the underside of his dick that takes Dipper’s breath away.
“That’s-” The groan Dipper lets out is wholly his own. “Fuck you, that’s not.” He needs to take time to breathe, going tense. He slides fingers into Bill’s hair, feeling them shake on his scalp. “That’s not fair.”
Bill hums a laugh - the vibration makes Dipper’s mind go blissfully blank - then reaches up. Dipper already has a loose hold on his hair, but Bill tugs his hand closer. 
“God.” The prompt is obvious. That's what Bill wants - and Dipper sits up. Bill’s tough, he can handle anything, including Dipper. He wants him to fuck his mouth, to pull his hair - a little pain, Bill loves that - and when he does, Bill lets out a moan that would be obscene in any context.
Dipper curls around Bill, gripping tight in his hair, pulling him down sharply and eyes rolling back as Bill just. Takes it. It’s heat and wet and good, it’s been too long, Bill’s firm tongue working clever designs on his dick as he rises back up -
And pulls away, the asshole. He watches Dipper whine, dick hard and red and needy - and merely laughs.
“How many times have you jerked off thinking about that?” Bill asks, grinning. Dipper feels heat rush to his face - “Been a while, huh?” Bill takes his cock in hand again, starting to stroke, slow and lazy and absolutely not helping the heat Dipper feels, in his chest and in his groin - “Don’t worry, kid! It’s gonna be way better with me helping out.”
Which is right, but only because Bill already knows which buttons to press. Where to touch. He never shuts up and he knows what  ideas will make Dipper think too much. 
Dipper shudders. He hasn’t been touched in a while, and this is helping in ways he didn’t realize. Bill shouldn’t leave him like this, and he really wouldn’t if given the chance, doing all kinds of things to him. Like this tight grip, this surge inside him, building to -
“Wait.” He fumbles, gripping tighter on Bill’s shirt, breathing faster now. Feeling himself twitch, the heat rising in his groin, quicker than he wanted. “Wait. I’m-”
“You don’t even have words for the ways I’m gonna make you come,” Bill’s voice is a low purr in his ear, tight pressure on his dick, Bill never stops talking, it does horrible things to Dipper’s imagination - “Not stopping ‘till you’re a completely fucked out wreck.”
He would, he will - he’d make Dipper take his fingers and his cock, he’d touch him everywhere, until he -
Swears. Dipper arches up, gasping, coming in Bill’s hand, grabbing at his shirt, at his shoulders. Bill grins wide, palm cupped over his cock, catching his release. 
He’s still chuckling to himself as Dipper drops back against the mattress. Blinking, slowly, at the ceiling.
Okay. 
Not… the longest Dipper’s lasted. But it has been a while. 
Bill hums a low, pleased tune, kissing Dipper on the temple, then the cheek. He leans back a bit - then cocks his head to the side as he looks at his palm.
“Seriously, though - you were really pent up.” Bill raises an eyebrow, breaking character for a moment. He examines the results with amusement, then takes a quick lick before wiping his hand on the sheets. “You shoulda said something.”
Dipper sighs. This jackass. “I was trying to.”
A light clicks on in Bill’s head. He sits up, suddenly alert. Eye darting around, thoughts racing - and he looks back down at Dipper.
Dipper doesn’t meet that golden gaze. He clears his throat, covering his eyes with his arm. Suddenly he’s embarrassed. 
Bill’s not stupid. He noticed Dipper’s attempts; he could hardly miss the obvious. None of them were normal to begin with. They probably weren’t that common for demons, come to think of it - and zero of them are things Dipper would come up with on his own.
“Pretty strange approach you took there,” says Bill, patting Dipper’s thigh. He tilts his head to the side curiously, and his eye narrows. “What put those ideas in your head?” There’s a very tiny, miniscule amount of tension in the question. Dipper thunks his head against the pillow, rolling his eyes. 
Bill’s probing at something most people wouldn’t consider. But spend enough time in a demon realm, and well - Bill’s not entirely wrong to worry that Dipper might have been messed with. It’s just…
Dipper sighs. He knows what the reaction will be. But. He should say it now, too, before Bill gets the wrong idea. 
“Um,” He says. Tapping two fingers together, and offering an awkward smile. “Demon Cosmopolitan.”
Bill blinks for a moment. 
"Shut it." Dipper says. Already pre-annoyed.
“Mh.” Bill’s lips are pressed tightly together. “Mhm.” Amusement scrunching up his face, clearly holding back. He lets out a loud ‘pfffft’, shoulders rising.
“Demon dating advice sucks,” Dipper insists. 
Bill’s amusement is irrepressible. Even though he nearly chokes holding it back, it breaks through - and he starts laughing outright. 
Dipper swats at him, not very hard. He has to admit it wasn’t his greatest move.
“I can see it already!” Bill rolls off him, raising his arms in the air. “You doing your ‘research’!” He sterns his expression, a mimicry of Dipper’s - though his thinking face isn’t that dumb looking - and clicks an invisible pen. Nodding to himself, very seriously. “Gotta take notes on this copy of Playbaal.”
“It’s not that funny,” Dipper mutters. Not that it stops Bill. He straddles this jerk instead, and thumps him on the chest.
Another note to make - burn the notebook before Bill finds it.
Bill’s always too pleased with himself, including his own jokes. His dumb, shitty quote-unquote 'impression' has amused him to the point where he’s lying back, arms over his chest. Cackling at his own cleverness. 
Accurate or not - which it wasn’t - it’s still really goddamn stupid.
Dipper rolls his eyes, feeling Bill’s stomach bounce with laughter under the palm of his hand. No point in protesting. Let him have his fun. 
Still annoying though. 
Bill himself looks pretty stupid, anyway. Splayed out on the mattress like that. His shirt half-undone, his hair slightly mussed. An obvious tent in his pants. 
…Clearly distracted. 
Dipper looks around at the toys strewn on the mattress. At the headboard, and Bill’s arms. 
Now a thought’s brewing, in his own head. A tempting one.
Not that long ago, Bill started proposing new ideas. Dipper hasn’t had too many himself, he’s less experienced in this area. And while Bill makes bedroom stuff easy, as much as he can, Dipper’s still… awkward in general. 
Even so -  Inexperienced or not -  He'd be an idiot to miss this opportunity.
Dipper crawls over his idiot husband, sitting down on his stomach with aplomb. Bill perks up, even as a bit of breath huffs out from the impact. He also raises his arms to get them out of Dipper’s way, which is perfect.
Dipper lets his fingers trail up one of them, lifting it by the wrist - 
Where some experience comes in handy. 
If he hadn’t been on the other side of this before, he wouldn’t know how to do it so quickly. 
“Hello there,” Bill says, grinning wider now. He glances down at Dipper’s hips, so close to his face now. “Nice to see ya.” 
“Uh huh.” Dipper’s trying for subtlety, he doesn’t have a witty retort. He’s busy sliding fingers up Bill’s other bicep. 
Said subtlety instantly fails, as Bill tries to grab his butt, only to be held up with a jolt. His eye goes wide, he snarls and yanks again, torso jerking upwards with his sudden surge. He nearly rises off the mattress, even with Dipper sitting on top of him.
Dipper tightens his legs, keeping himself steady. Blinking in surprise. 
Bill nearly bucked him completely off, which is. Not… really the reaction he expected. The second arm is free, and it’s gripping Dipper’s thigh, tight - 
While Bill’s dominant hand is neatly tucked into the leather manacle. 
After a second, Bill tilts his head back. Tugs his arm a few times, almost testingly - then looks up at Dipper with surprise. 
“What?” Dipper asks. They’ve done… stuff before. He didn’t expect that much of a reaction.
“Huh.” Bill says, calmer now. Then, frowning slightly. “Huh.”
“What?” 
“Huh.” Bill says again, with the usual amount of helpfulness. Looking less annoyed, and more contemplative. He purses his lips, tapping the manacle thoughtfully. “Gotta say that’s a first.”
Oh.
All of the awkwardness Dipper was repressing surges back to the forefront. 
Okay, that’s. He didn’t - well maybe he did think - was he thinking at all, holy shit - 
“Um.” Dipper hesitates. What does he do now, besides lean over to touch Bill’s forearm.  “Is this-” 
Somewhere in the sheets, Bill’s phone starts ringing again. 
Bill lets out a disgusted groan, thunking his head against the pillow. Dipper starts scowling.
Bill twists one way, then another, looking for the source, while Dipper feels around for the damn thing without giving up his seat, fumbling in the silk. He finds it half-under Bill’s back, just next to his knee. 
Dipper fishes the phone up, and glares at it. Ringing, incessantly, with the same stupid ringtone. Likely it’s important. Something going wrong, or going right. Another demonic thing that’s demanding Bill’s attention. 
They don’t know they have competition.
Dipper picks up the call, tucking the phone against his ear. He feels Bill take in a sharp breath under him. 
“Fuck off.” Dipper says in clipped tones, before the being on the other end can say anything. He glares down at Bill, squeezing his chest between his legs. Almost daring him to interject. “He’s busy.” 
There’s a sound on the other end of the call - but Dipper’s already hung up, and thrown the stupid phone right to the floor.
Underneath him, Bill’s eye goes wide, blinking fast. It also starts glowing bright gold.
Dipper runs a hand through his hair, and tries not to feel awkward about that. 
He isn’t really… Being forceful isn’t how he usually goes about things. But they’ve had enough interruptions from that godawful party already, and this one felt all too personal.
Bill shifts suddenly in place. Enough that Dipper has to steady himself, jolting back to the present.
Shit. Right, he’s got to get back to Bill. Who’s -
No longer thinking, apparently. He’s come to a decision with his usual speed. Bill’s propped his other wrist against the empty manacle. Hell, he’s halfway slid it into the thing, waiting for the clasp to be shut.
He’s also wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 
Dipper snorts in amusement, and says, “Okay.” 
He leans forward again. There’s an odd flutter inside as he sets Bill’s other wrist in the manacle. As he sets the clasp, and tightens it. Fiddling with the leather is a decent excuse not to see the results, just yet. 
Bill gives it an experimental tug, face changing as he thinks - then shrugs, and relaxes back on the bed. Humming a little tune to himself.
Dipper sits back. He swallows, though his mouth feels dry. 
Right. 
There’s Bill, underneath him. That body, warm muscle shifting against his thighs as Bill gets comfortable. A heartbeat, if Dipper presses a palm against his chest. His arms flex in the restraints, muscles tensing and shifting around before they relax again. 
He’s… Not, exactly, at Dipper’s mercy, because Bill’s too strong, he could break out - hell, he made those restraints, they don’t have to exist, he could escape at any time -  But.
Dipper licks his lips. Normally he’s good with ideas. It’s not working right now. 
Bill. Held back for once. Powerful, impossible, insane - and lying there on the bed, grinning at Dipper. Waiting for him. That hat half-opened shirt exposing his chest, like an invitation to explore. 
When Bill Cipher is.. is  trapped like this, Dipper’s free to touch him wherever he wants. Or - or not touch him, if he wants, or only at the right moments, teasing until he’s the one shaking with sensation for once. Dipper could do pretty much anything, and Bill’s looking up at him, head slightly tilted to the side, like he expects him to- 
“Um.” Dipper sits in place, blinking, at a loss. It’s like his brain has short-circuited, repeating the same thoughts in a circle.
After a second, Bill shrugs. “Well, well, well. Guess my new pet has a couple of tricks up his sleeve.” He lies back on the bed, nonchalant. He tilts his head back to examine his nails, since his hands are raised over his head. “What do you think this little stunt is going to accomplish?”
Dipper narrows his eyes.
 If that’s the game, then…
“Who’s captured who now, Cipher?” He jabs a thumb at himself, starting to smile again. He shifts back, settling down on Bill’s thighs. “Guess I was smarter than you thought.”
“If you were real smart you’d be running.” His sneer belies the tent in his pants, hips shifting up as Dipper moves closer. “You know what happens to mortals who try to bind demons?”
Dangerous, always. Deadly, usually. If there’s even one fault in the binding. Even the  slightest mistake - and the demon bursts free, able to wreak whatever havoc they like - usually on the hapless mortal who tried to keep them bound. 
In this case, Dipper’s feeling very reckless. 
“I’m not running away from all the secrets of the universe,” Dipper says. He feels oddly light inside, excitement building as he starts to undo the rest of Bill’s shirt. Fumbling, slightly, his fingers are uncoordinated. “You’re gonna tell me everything.”
“Ha! You’ve got no leverage, kid. Nothing to offer, no way to convince - and you don’t seem like the torturing type to me.” Bill eyes his progress, mouth quirked up with amusement. “Watch the fabric, that’s expensive.”
“Oh, I can make you talk..” Dipper rips the rest of his shirt open. The last couple buttons bounce off into the room, and Dipper slides his hands up that chest, down again to Bill’s stomach. It’s all smooth skin, hot to the touch - “The hard part is getting you to shut up.”
Bill lets out a sharp laugh. Being an asshole doesn’t mean he’s not self-aware. Dipper forces a smile off his own face. 
When Dipper undoes Bill’s belt, he chuckles. When Dipper tugs the pants down, underwear and all, he lifts his hips to let them slide off. Bill even kicks the fabric off his legs, too, which is helpful; Dipper didn’t want to fiddle with that part. 
It leaves Bill naked, except for the still-opened shirt. Fully hard, cock resting on his stomach; still grinning, and still impenetrably smug. 
Dipper narrows his eyes, trying to keep his face stern. Squeezing Bill’s thigh, and feeling the muscle jump under his palm. 
“I get it.” He says, shifting lower. His hands stroke the inside of Bill’s thighs, up his hips. “The great Bill Cipher thinks he can resist anything.”
“Sure can!” Bill grins, head rising to track Dipper’s descent. He shifts his legs apart, making it easy to kneel between them. “I can’t imagine you’ve got anything in stor-”
Dipper ignores him. He keeps his eyes on Bill, tongue flickering out. A quick, wet thing, licking against his length..
“Nh.” Bill grunts. Eye fluttering shut, he swallows visibly. "Taking a new tactic, huh.” The smirk returns, sharper now. “That's hardly fair!"
“All's fair in lust and war.” Dipper recites the old demonic phrase. He pulls Bill’s cock upright, watching him suck in a breath - and smiles. “You're going to do what I want."
“You can try,” Bill purrs. His teeth are bared in his wide, pleased smile. “Do your worst.”
Taking Bill in his mouth is a guilty pleasure. Not that he should feel guilty, as Bill’s often repeated, with great enthusiasm - but Dipper groans as he takes Bill in, hand gripping the base of his cock. 
It’s hot and hard, twitching again as Dipper idly rolls his tongue around. He opens up, mouth drawing in the thick length of him, cheeks hollowing out. Bill lasts a whole ten seconds before his hips rock up into it; a couple quick jerks. Soon he’s trying to fuck into his mouth, bracing a foot on the mattress, knee raised.
Dipper pulls back and plants a kiss on the head. Underneath him, Bill swears and his hips hit the mattress with a thump. He’s slightly pink in the face, arms tense and eye shut. 
Teasing. Taunting. Downright tormenting - now he sees what Bill sees in this.
The appeal.
He licks his lips as he draws back, to see Bill’s cock jump in place, a muscle in his thigh twitch rapidly - then taking it back in, groaning around Bill’s cock as his hips make short, desperate motions..
Bill wants to fuck his mouth, he needs to feel more - he can take it, he’s immortal, but Dipper can too, he’s good at this -  undulating his tongue on the underside as Bill hits the back of his throat, and hearing a loud, breathless swear.
Bill might be all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-too-put together in most situations. 
He’s not now.
Instead, he’s swearing, low. Repeating and the same word, over and over again. His face is flushed and his chest heaves, rising and falling with heavy breaths. He’s starting to sweat a little, turning his head to the side, trying so hard not to admit he loves this.
There’s pleasure in seeing Bill come so undone by this. Pleasure in knowing that he’s doing this, and fuck, it is good to suck his cock, Dipper’s already getting hard again himself.
“You-” There’s a clang on the headboard as Bill tries to reach out, and gets held up. He swears again, under his breath. “Gnh.” 
Dipper draws away. But he takes it slow, drawing it out far longer than Bill did. Bobbing back down briefly, and feeling Bill try to stay in until Dipper finally lets his cock fall from between his lips, dropping wet and throbbing onto Bill’s stomach.
“Is it good?” He asks. He strokes Bill’s length a couple times, watching Bill shudder. Bill lets his head drop back on the pillow, grunting something incoherent. One of his legs is shaking in place, not quite kicking out.
“You can come in my mouth, if you want.” Dipper says, hearing Bill make a soft groan, nearly needy - but wait, right, the roleplay - “Just tell me what I want to hear.”
Bill bares his teeth. Breathing slower now, like he’s controlling it. His eye darts around under the closed lid, jaw tense. 
Dipper licks up the underside of his dick, kissing just under the head. Bill’s cock twitches again, and he keeps up his assault with no small amount of pride. 
There’s no way Bill can resist much longer. He’s already so close. 
Bill breathes in, and lets it out, shuddering and slow. He pauses for a long moment. Then, slowly, he looks up from his pillow. 
“You…” Bill starts. His tongue flicks out over his lips, and he flashes his most charming smile. “Are so goddamn good at this.”
Dipper feels a burst of embarrassed pleasure. He ducks his head a little, trying not to smile. “Um.”
There... There’s usually a retort Dipper can offer. But that wasn’t an insult. So. “Um.” He repeats, like an idiot.
Underneath him, Bill’s smile slowly, smugly widens into a full-blown grin.
“So, yeah,” Bill makes a dismissive gesture with his bound hands. “Go ahead, take your time! I could watch you sucking me off all day.” He settles down on the sheets. Acting perfectly relaxed - though his cock tells a different story. “You’re giving me enough jerk off material for eons.”
“Bastard.” Dipper’s really trying not to smile, and he knows his face is red. Even his ears feel hot by now. “You’re-” 
He stops. The protest dies before it fully forms. 
Because Dipper knows Bill. All his tells. When Bill’s bending the truth, or when saying something he doesn’t believe. When he’s straight-up lying it’s obvious, and Dipper could pinpoint a misleading phrase from a mile. 
This time, Bill’s not lying. It’s true.
All of it.
“Oh.” Dipper doesn’t have a followup. The burn of embarrassment flares in him; he must be blushing down to his chest at this point. Bill really - 
He looks down - Bill’s dick, almost straining in his hand  - but looking at his face isn’t better, Dipper tucks his cheek against one rising shoulder, face feeling hot on his own skin.
“I’ve been watching you, sapling. All the time.” Bill’s smug grin remains; he’s almost too pleased with himself, even though he’s still telling the truth - . “You have no idea how good you look. How hard you make me.” His eye trails over Dipper, and his cock twitches against his stomach.  “Every time I come, I think about how much better it would be if I had you in my bed.”
God, and he does, too. Bill’s not playing a role - or at least, not making this up. They’ve done so much together and Bill’s loved it, every moment, enough to make a mental video of them - and there’s proof of Bill’s lust, wet from Dipper’s mouth and  hard in his hand. 
Dipper doesn’t know what to say. He has Bill in one hand, himself in the other, moving a little faster now, and it’s hard to focus. He shuts his eyes, trying not to pant.
”You’ve got a great mouth on you, kid. But it looks absolutely perfect around my cock.” Bill pulls on the restraints, lifting himself up to meet Dipper’s eyes - he lowers his head, avoiding it -  “You’ve got a talent.” Bill strains to follow his gaze, headboard creaking at the pressure. His cock jumps in Dipper’s grip, grinning sharply. “Put it to use? And I’ll give you everything you want.”
Dipper had already ducked back down. It’s right there - and hell, sucking Bill’s dick is less embarrassing than listening to what he was saying. Dipper tastes him, opens for him. Feeling good, with the thick weight in his mouth, on his tongue. He holds the rest of his length with his other hand, face burning.
“That’s it.” Bill’s breathing hard, voice low. He tilts his head up, watching with his eye half-lidded = and a growing smirk. “Good boy.”
Dipper makes a noise that’s nearly a choke, a soft, gagged whimper. Good at this, he’s good - he moans. Bill tastes of skin and salt, a heavy warm weight that feels good to suck. He pulls back to the head, cheeks hollowing and tongue flickering, before swallowing him down again. 
“You- Nh.” Bill curses, tossing his head to one side. One of his legs starts jogging in place, his teeth clenched. “Gonna-”
Dipper doesn’t stop, he strokes and groans in encouragement. Feeling Bill twitch as he comes, swallowing slowly. Bill chants something low under his breath before it all melds into a low moan. Even when he’s finished, Dipper keeps going, just to watch Bill shudder under him like he’s being pleasantly electrocuted, eye rolling back in his skull.
When Dipper finally sits up, Bill’s downright dazed. Splayed out, blinking unfocused. Dipper wipes his mouth, and pats his thigh. A warm glow of pride overcomes the warmth in his cheeks.
So what if he’s got an infinite, powerful demon. Or if he’s a nerd. When it comes to this, even Bill Cipher isn’t his match.
“Ten outta ten.” Bill says, after a moment. He spent a good ten seconds blinking at the ceiling, eye unfocused. One of his hands gives a lazy thumbs up, then droops in its manacle. “A million stars. Would come back again, for eternity.” A quick smirk. “Give the server a massive tip.”
Dipper slaps his hip, just to make a point about puns. Then pauses. He’s uncomfortably hard himself, and now that he’s not distracted - Bill’s dick is flagging, but there's more than a few toys scattered over the mattress, there’s lube. Everything he could use to help himself out. He leans over - 
“No toys,” Bill snaps, and Dipper jerks to attention. He hesitates. Already his hand hovers over the lube, just next to something that’s smaller than Bill, but - 
“Aw, you’re lonely, aren’tcha?” Bill interrupts again. Starting to shake his head in mock pity. “I know what you need - and I’m better than any of those.” He glances down at own groin, a cocky grin on his face. “I could make you come without you ever touching yourself.”
God, Bill’s being oddly truthful today, and again, he’s right. He has managed that before, Dipper can feel his dick jump at the very idea of it. It’s... Intense, and rough. Feeling that demanding demon over him, around him, deep inside of him - and actually, coming on Bill’s cock sounds extremely fantastic right now.
Dipper fumbles the lube for a second, he reaches to stroke Bill into hardness again, get him ready- 
“Ah ah ah,” chides Bill. He rolls his hips to the side, dodging Dipper’s touch. “Where’s the romance?” He flutters his eyelashes, his face in a mocking pout. “You can’t even gimme a kiss first?”
Dipper nearly snorts. They’re in the middle of - Bill’s an all powerful demon. He knows so much. He controls an entire nightmare realm, and so many beings think he’s ‘cool’. Unassailable. Unflappable.
Bill Cipher is all of those things - and he says he married a nerd. Which is, okay. A fair statement. 
But It takes one to know one. 
“Fine.” Dipper moves up closer, cupping Bill’s cheek. He’s trying not to smile, and failing. “Just one, though.”
Less than two seconds later, he proves himself a liar. Kissing Bill never stops with just a peck. They spend longer than they should, tangled together. Dipper lying halfway on him, Bill rising against his restraints to meet him, and his tongue flickering into Dipper’s mouth
Dipper finally gets a hand on him, where Bill’s already halfway to attention. Spreading lube over him in slow firm strokes, feeling him harden quickly, hot under his palm. Bill’s thick length slides easily under his touch, he can feel a vague pulse through it. 
Dipper ducks his head next to Bill’s reaching behind himself. He just - needs to prepare a little, and then- he bites his lip, slipping fingers inside.
Reaching behind himself never gives him the right angle, but. Dipper tucks his chin against his chest as he works himself slowly, twisting his fingers. He hasn’t done this in a while. It’s hard to relax. He breathes slowly, controlled - maybe he needs to spread his legs more -  
Which is when Bill surges up underneath him, body arching up like a bow. “You- Don’t be a tease, kid.” The words come out in a low growl, too eager to be anything but honest. “At least turn around and let me watch.”
Dipper stops out of sheer surprise. He pauses, looking up into a wolfish grin. 
“C’mere. Sapling. You want some help? Let me give you a hand.” Bill licks his lips. He’s trying to nudge him with a hip, his cock hard again, and his eye alight. “I wanna touch you.”
Right, that would be better. Ten times better than Dipper doing it himself. Bill’s long fingers, pushing inside him - he swears under his breath, scooting upward, and it’s only as the tips of his fingers touch the manacle that he thinks enough to pause. 
Dipper looks down at Bill. Bill blinks up at him, eye full of desire - 
After a moment, Dipper glares.
The corner of Bill’s mouth quirks up, a bit wryly. “Go on, do it.” He wiggles his fingers in the restraints. Almost teasingly.  “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Dipper gives him a long, long look, before rolling his eyes. 
“Fine.” He repeats, smiling this time. “You jerk.” He undoes one of the restraints. 
The clasp opens, the leather parts. Bill stretches his arm out, raising it up front of himself with a pleased grin. Dipper moves onto the next manacle, bracing himself on Bill’s chest for balance - 
Bill yanks his other arm, hard. The chain on the headboard snaps with a sharp, metallic clink, and there’s not even time to flinch as Bill lunges up from the bed.
Dipper gasps, half a second after the fact. Much too late, at that. Already there’s a strong arm around his waist, a firm grip in his hair. Dipper didn’t think about how fast Bill can be before he was already caught. 
“You really thought you could bind me, of all demons.” Bill shakes his head with slow amusement. He pulls Dipper’s head back and to one side, exposing his neck.  “And they call me arrogant” 
“Don’t get me wrong, though,” Bill continues, beaming. Starting to nose against that exposed skin, pressing his lips against Dipper’s rapid pulse. Dipper grits his teeth, letting out a soft grunt. He scrambles for purchase on Bill’s shoulders. “It’s adorable.”
“I-” Dipper cuts himself off. Bill’s just licked his neck. Then his ear, teeth grazing against the lobe - now he’s kissing just behind it. “That’s-!” Then. Teeth, on his neck, a mouth on his skin - DIpper swears, and clasps a hand on Bill’s neck in return - “Not fair.”
Bill laughs against Dipper’s shoulder. “All’s fair in lust and war!” He starts trailing kisses up the shoulder, to his neck. “Get used to it.” His mouth sucks in the soft skin  tongue flicking over it and absolutely leaving a hickey. Marking him up. 
There’s a strong, searching hand between Dipper’s legs, sliding up the back of his thigh. But even when he does struggle, he can’t pull away. Bill’s all over him, surrounding him. Making him his. He’s been captured, there’s no escaping his attention - 
Dipper shuts his eyes. He shuffles his knees further apart. 
“You could have run, but no! That’s not what you wanted.” Bill slides slick fingers inside him, deeper than Dipper could reach - right there. They spread him open, then press together, then flex - pleasure bursts inside him, god it’s been too long - “You wanted this.”
Dipper shakes his head, but that’s pointless. And obviously a lie; Bill grins as he continues. “You wanted to get fucked. But you’re a skeptic, I get it.” The way he splays his fingers makes Dipper ache, in a good way, he digs his nails into Bill’s back - “You just needed a trial run, first!”
Part of Dipper wants to say that it’s a logical move. That if you’re going to be someone’s… If it’s going to be a sex thing, you should find out if -  
Then overthinking takes a backseat, Dipper’s mouth shutting with a click as Bill keeps pressing. Because Bill, the bastard, has clever hands, and a cleverer mind for angles, and his fingers are pushing in so deep. He barely hears Bill asking, “How’dya like it so far?”
“‘S good. Yeah.” The words fall senseless from Dipper’s lips. Very good. He was right, perfectly so, he made absolutely the right choice. When Bill curls his fingers there’s a bright spark, and Dipper pushes into that point of pleasure, grabbing at the back of Bill’s neck, at his shoulders, fumbling in sudden desperation. “More. Please.”
“In a minute.” Bill’s hand never stops, fingers sliding in and out. Avoiding the hitting quite right, now, the bastard - Dipper can feel his breathing pick up, hot on his shoulder. The leather of the manacle is still around Bill’s wrist, cool on Dipper’s skin. “You’re so tight.”  
Dipper tugs at him, trying to draw him in. It doesn’t work, even if he really pulls - until Bill finally caves, sliding his fingers out. “And demanding.” He eases Dipper back then, pushing him down on the bed. “I picked exactly the right mortal.”
Dipper tries to get comfortable on the sheets - but Bill hauls him in by his hips. He’s kneeling, which leaves Dipper’s legs splayed over his own. Bill’s cock bobs obscenely over Dipper’s, a rude comparison. “You sure you want this?”
Dipper flips him off. This jerk. Like he can’t see how much he wants it, it’s right there. He’s been hard for a while, extremely so, even now his dick taps on his stomach with urgency, jerking at the very thought of Bill inside him. Bill’s just being a tease. 
He nods, anyway, just to move things along. 
“Alright, kid. You got this.” Bill shifts up slightly, a smile in his voice. He holds onto Dipper’s hip, starting to guide the thick tip of his cock inside. “You can-” The blunt head of it slips inside, Dipper can see Bill pushing in and feel it, hot pressure entering. “Take all of it.”
Which Dipper’s done before. He’s ready for it. It’s thick and hot as always, but with this angle it’s - Dipper feels his toes curl, he tosses his head back with a whine -  Just right. “Yeah.”
“That’s a good boy,” Bill purrs, thrusting shallow, a quick in-and-out, easing himself deeper, a long stroke following -  “All mine. My perfect little pet. ” Each word emphasized with another thrust, another push deeper, more firm pressure inside that leaves Dipper breathless. The last bit of chain from the manacle is chill against his hip. “My personal plaything.”
Dipper shoves a hand over his face, whining a protest. He’s - he’s not a - that. But he is, a little. He wants Bill to ‘play’ with him, a lot. He’s wanted it for a while, and now he has it, Bill’s totally inside him, hot and thick. Taking his time, not really fucking him like he could, and Dipper wants more so much he could almost - “Ah.”
“Now that. Is a fantastic look for you.” Bill’s voice is nearly a growl, his grin truly feral. He tugs Dipper closer, shifting up on his knees as he sets a quicker pace. “I could look at that face all day. Or night, as it were.” He draws back slightly, running his thumb around where they’re joined, eye glowing bright. “Or just at you stretched out around me.”
Dipper nods again, helplessly. He can feel it, like it’s bigger than usual, but whether it’s the angle or the time he’s spent alone, he can’t tell. There’s a hot burst of pleasure each time Bill fucks into him; he’s sweating and the  sheets getting damp under his back, and in his hands. Holding on tight, and trying to hook his legs around Bill.
“Gonna have you over and over again.” Bill mutters. He's urgently pulling Dipper closer, leaning forward as he rises up slightly. “And you’ll love it.”  In this position his cock sends stars swimming into Dipper’s vision, it's so much. His legs are tense, and they’re starting to shake. “Every time I fuck you. Every time I come inside you.”
Damn it, Bill keeps talking; he never stops when he should -  All things Dipper can picture in his mind, clear as if it were a dream. He wouldn't have to get Bill’s attention, Bill would be all over him, Dipper would be naked and ashamed and attended to. Whenever he wanted, Bill would be touching him. Kissing his neck, and his chest, shoving him down and fucking him like this, leaving Dipper shaking and waiting until he did it again, getting fucked and touched and adored - 
“Use you whenever I want.” Bill rises up to his knees, holding Dipper fully by his hips with unnaturally strong hands, fucking into him rough and urgent. “Let you wait for me, naked in my bed, with all that cum inside you. Touching yourself. “ Bill leans in, teeth bared, breathing hard. He squeezes tight enough to bruise - “Until I bend you over and fill you up again.”
The steady pound of Bill’s cock is building up pleasure too quickly; Dipper can feel it deep in him, ready to make good on his words; every time Bill fucks into him a bead of clear precome drips from his cock, Dipper’s so close he aches -  “‘M gonna come.” Dipper blurts, holding onto the sheets, tight. Back arches, nearly whimpering- “Gonna come, please.” 
“Sexy little mind. Cute goddamned body. Too eager.” Bill hisses the words out, keeping a steady, near-violent pace, his skin shining with sweat. “Too cute.” He yanks Dipper in tight, arms shaking slightly, and Dipper can feel his cock twitch inside, the added pressure makes him groan -  “Everything I wanted.” Bill pants, teeth bared as his eye flutters shut, pressing their hips together.  “Fuck, I love you.” 
Dipper comes with a sharp, sweet shock, gripping at the sheets, mouthing at the air. Bill holds him close, hips jerking  in place, balls deep, pulsing inside him.
Bill squeezes him a little tighter, dropping back onto his seated position. Dipper collapses, boneless from his orgasm - and relieved at the lack of strain on his back. He can feel Bill pulsing inside, hips still jerking faintly in the last few motions.
Dipper lets his head drop back. Trying to catch his breath. Bill stills in place, breathing slower. Eye shut. Until he eventually sighs. He pulls back and away, only to drop on top of Dipper, cheek resting on his chest. 
After a moment, Dipper reaches up to card his fingers through Bill’s hair. 
Sleeping with Bill is always… interesting. In one way or another Over time he’s been introduced to things he thought were only on the internet, not something people actually did. Hearing Bill say something vaguely normal is strange. 
And nice.
They lie there for a bit. Spending time in a calm post-sex daze, comfortable and dozy. Bill raises  his arm, and Dipper obligingly unlatches the broken manacle, letting it drop. 
With a sigh, Bill turns his head. Finally, totally relaxed, humming in contentment against Dipper’s chest. Dipper keeps petting him idly. Still thinking. Maybe too much, but he’s never going to not.
Even if it was said during sex… there should be a response. Right? If anything, it’s one of the few times he doesn’t have to feel awkward saying it out loud.
“Love you too.” Dipper leans up, planting a quick kiss on Bill’s head, before dropping back. He hugs his idiot demon a little tighter.
Bill makes a low, pleased sound, getting comfortable - then suddenly jerks in place. His head doesn’t rise, but Dipper feels him go tense. 
“Ahem. Cute, kid. But you musta misheard me.” Bill clears his throat without looking up. And raises a finger, wagging it. “I said I love fucking you.”
“Uh huh.” Lies, again. Weird one for him to pull, though. Bill doesn't say that sort of thing often, but he’s never outright denied it before. “Sure.”
Dipper keeps running his hand through Bill’s hair, ruffling it slightly. Bill lets out an annoyed grunt, but doesn’t move, face planted on Dipper’s chest. For some reason the tips of his ears are pink. 
But. Wait. 
Demons do things backwards.
Hell, Dipper’s just read more articles than he’d admit about this exact topic. He should have figured. Though he was… distracted. When it happened.
“Well. If you had said something that kinky,” Dipper continues, feeling Bill mouth a swear against his skin. He thunks his forehead against his human pillow, and Dipper starts to smile. “I would’ve been really into it.”
Bill looks up. Eye narrowing.
Watching his expression turn from annoyed to conflicted is the third best thing that’s happened today.
“Kind of a shame,” Dipper adds, dropping his hands to his sides. He shrugs, then tucks his arms behind his head. “I should have guessed you wouldn’t be that sexy.”
“Hey!” 
A brief tussle ensues. Not a fight, and not quite a wrestle. Mostly, it’s Bill jostling Dipper around and Dipper fending him off, neither with much force. He gets two sharp nips on his ear, then gentle teeth on his shoulder. Bill worries the flesh for a moment - a token gesture - before rolling off Dipper with a satisfied grunt.
Dipper follows, throwing an arm over his demon. And when he cuddles up against Bill’s side, he feels Bill adjust to meet him. 
Bill lets out a pleased sigh  Relaxed, for once. Settling into that lazy, post-sex lassitude that Dipper only sees on rare occasions. Radiating smugness, too; he’s obviously congratulating himself. Dipper could see that in his face from a mile away. 
Dipper narrows his eyes. It’s nice when Bill’s calm - but he’s also telling himself he's the greatest, cleverest, most superlative demon ever. That gets annoying.
He’s proven correct moments later, when Bill starts to chuckle. 
“I can’t believe you thought you needed advice to seduce me.” Bill says. He shakes his head, almost incredulous. There’s a fond grin on his face. “I married a moron.”
The buried complement is in one of its shallowest graves yet. Dipper narrows his eyes. He would hit him with a pillow, but he’s using Bill for that right now. So he won’t.
“Fine.” He pats Bill’s chest instead. Feeling warm, and pretty relaxed himself. “Next time I won’t let you leave.”
“Go ahead.” 
“I’ll interrupt everything,” Dipper insists. He props himself up on one elbow, glaring without any heat at Bill’s stupid handsome face. “You’ll never get any plans done.” 
A smirk, and a lazy shrug. Bill even rolls his eye, grinning wider. “Hey, you can try.”
“You asked for it, Bill Cipher” Dipper’s smiling now. He rolls on top of his idiot demon, cupping his face, shaking it in his grasp just to watch Bill get grumpy. “Prepare to be bored senseless, hanging out with some human all the time.”
“Pfft, hardly!” Bill waves that off like it’s not even an issue. He also grabs Dipper’s butt. “You’ll never manage it.”
Hearing Bill practically perform necromancy on the usually buried compliments is - The only retort there is kissing him stupid. As always it disarms him; a demon, easily subdued. An idiot, who thinks just because his tongue is in Dipper’s mouth that he’s won.
All demons are stupid in the ways of romance. Research alone has proven that. And… real life has kind of proven that Dipper’s… not the greatest either. 
Too bad for, Bill, though. Infinite knowledge, insane power. And stupid, and overlooking things. A gossip and a nerd. He admitted it already - too easily seduced, if you’re the right person. 
It’s too late for Bill to win this one. He’s already met his match. 
“Leave the gossip rags outta the bedroom, sapling.They’re made by idiots, for idiots. Terrible advice, all round.” Bill adds, once they’ve parted again again. He walks his fingers up Dipper’s back, running a hand over the back of his neck - then makes a face, as a thought strikes him. “I’m just glad you didn’t try the starfruit thing.”
Dipper…. Probably shouldn’t ask. If Bill thinks it’s bad, who knows what it looks like to a mortal.  But hell, he’s always curious. Dipper sits up. “Sorry, the what thing?”
“Oh man, I gotta show you!” Bill perks up. He shuffles into a seated position, leaning against the headboard. One snap of the fingers, and magazine blinks into existence on his lap. “It’s horrible.”
 Dipper scoots up and over, resting his head on Bill’s shoulder. Watching, as he flips to the advice column.
Turns out Bill has collected more than a few issues himself. Not for advice, but out of sheer amusement. 
If Dipper thought humans gave each other bad advice, holy shit. He’s amazed he got anything useful from his own research. For every drop of decent advice, the rest are insane by any standard. Demons have to be actively fucking each other over, they can’t truly believe any of this crap. 
Most of the time, Dipper bickers with his husband, while Bill finds points to argue right back. It’s more fun than Dipper will ever say out loud, and Bill enjoys it immensely. 
This time, they’re sitting together. Bill nudging him to read another article, and Dipper pointing out how bad demonic advice is about humans. There’s more than a few magazines, and they comb over every single awful inch of them.
Reading how dumb and wrong other beings are. How they’re ridiculous and stupid and terrible - it’s another contest, kind of. Bill’s creative with his wordplay, mocking every single aspect. Dipper, though, has more pointed insights, and one of them makes Bill laugh so hard he nearly chokes on his own spit.
It’s different. It’s new. 
And it’s fun.
Spending time with Bill is both unusual, and insane. It defies all natural laws, every legal one, and common sense is completely tossed out the window. Demons would think half their dates are boring. Humans would think the rest are insane.
For once, Bill had the right sentiment when it came to other people.. 
‘Screw ‘em’, is pretty good advice.
“Y’know, I had a centerfold in onna these things a couple centuries ago.” Bill admits, on the fifth issue. He taps his chin thoughtfully. “Can’t recall which one, though.”
“I bet it was awful,” Dipper lies. He hopes the corner of glossy paper hanging out from under his mattress won't be too obvious. “You’re the worst.”
“I am,” Bill says, with the usual amount of pride. His chest puffs out a little, he raises his chin.
Dipper takes Bill’s hand in his own, squeezing tight. “You are.”
Fuck it. They don’t have to make sense to anyone else. Bill’s incomprehensible to nearly everyone as it is, and Dipper barely understands himself half the time - 
But the more time they spend together, the more they get each other.
And it’s never, ever boring.
Bill beams at him, pulling Dipper in for a kiss. Before he has a chance to take charge, Dipper puts his tongue in Bill’s mouth first. Another contest, that Bill easily takes him up on, surging in for another kiss -  He only breaks off halfway through to start laughing.
Demonic, human, or otherwise -  No matter how normal or weird it gets - 
Dipper smiles, and holds Bill tighter. Feeling his chest shake with amusement, a warm body lying on him.
He knows they’ll have plenty of time together.
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Summary: Not wanting to face Joel after you found out that you're pregnant, you leave the Boston QZ to live with Bill and Frank. Almost four years pass before you can't hide from him anymore, letting him finally know why you ran from him all these years back.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 6.7k
Rating: E
Warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy, secret pregnancy, secrets, fluff, trust issues, Joel being Joel, making up, kissing, age gap (not specified but it's around 15 years), smut (unprotected sex), mentions of alcohol, Joel really is bad at feelings, but he's trying, Girl Dad Joel Miller, happy end
A/N: if these two had a relationship status it would be "it's complicated" Another WiP done! So now I am allowed to think about Biker Raider Joel for a moment, right?
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Pedro Masterlist || Joel Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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“You know you’ll have to face him at some point,” Frank had a fond smile on his lips as he sat in his wheelchair next to you. He was watching Bill who let himself chase across the yard of his picture perfect post apocalypse home. 
Nobody would expect that just down the street, outside of the fence the world as you knew it had ended. 
“I know,” you sighed. 
“He asks for you every time he’s here. If we had seen you, if we knew where you are. He’s gonna understand,” Frank said and you scoffed. 
“He’s not gonna care. He has Tess and… he’s not…” you shook your head, searching for the words, “he’s not the man I fell in love with.”
“We all can change,” Frank said, reaching over to squeeze your hand. 
“Bill is the best example for that. Could you have imagined him like that when you showed up here three years ago?”
You watched Bill play with your daughter, Ava, playing catch. 
“Joel is not like that. He was like that. Before. But that part of him died long ago.”
You sat in silence for a while, just watching Bill and Ava, trying to soak it all in. It would never be like that again and you were already dreading having to explain all of this to her. 
“I’m gonna miss you,” you whispered, fighting against the tears as you looked at Frank. He smiled softly at you before he came closer, kissing your forehead. 
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Four years earlier
You knew he could tell when you were lying. He would know with one look at you that you were full of shit telling him that this was not working for you anymore. Whatever this between you was.
Joel and you had known each other since before the outbreak. You had started babysitting Sarah to earn some extra money while you were finishing you degree when she had just been nine years old and you had moved in next door.
You had been there on outbreak day. Next door, still living at home to take care of your sick father. You would never get the picture of his infected body lunging at you out of your head the night the world changed. 
You and Joel… You didn’t know what Joel and you were exactly. 
You loved Joel, you knew that. And you were pretty sure he loved you too. You just wanted… more. Most people did not allow themselves to love so openly anymore. And in Joel’s case? Losing Sarah had changed him. After fifteen years the man who had been Sarah’s father was gone, replaced by a man that still had his face, but was missing the warmth and comfort Joel Miller had once provided. 
You could see it in glimpses, whenever his hand would rest on your back when he passed by. When he fell asleep in your arms deep in the night. When he kissed your forehead before he headed out for work. 
Loving Joel Miller was easy. 
Being loved by him was close to impossible. 
You never really labelled your relationship, mostly because you did not think of it as important. You trusted him more than any other person on this planet. It’s why you ignored the way he had started looking at Tess. It’s why you did not question him when he stayed away at night. You ignored it all, opening your arms for him when he chose to come home to you, letting him in your bed just to feel close to him. To feel something. 
The jealousy was killing you slowly, making you reckless when you let him have his way with your body. 
But once you had missed your period the first month, and then the second, you knew that there was only one possible answer to your dilemma. You had never been late before. A ration card swapped for a twenty year old pregnancy test had your worst fears come true. 
You were pregnant with Joel Miller’s child. 
Fifteen years after you both buried his daughter. The daughter he never got over losing. 
You could already see his reaction. The eyes you loved so much empty before he would tell you to deal with it. 
You could not face his anger or disappointment, but mostly you could not face him not caring. So you packed your little belongings once he had left you in the morning, sneaking out of your bed without a word.
You did not leave a note, just fled the QZ, making your way over to Bill and Frank, hoping your friendship with Frank would make them take you in. 
Of course Bill hadn’t want to, but once he saw your stomach swell (and tasted the sweets you baked in his kitchen) he had put all his work into making the house next door into your home. 
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“Mama, can we go get Strawbebbies?” you chuckled, holding her hand as you walked with her on your daily walk by the fence. 
“Strawberries, baby,” you tried to correct her. Ava pouted at you, her dark curls swinging in the wind, her brown eyes so much like her fathers. 
“That’s what I said!” she put her little hands on her hips and you smiled. 
She was definitely her father’s daughter.
“Okay, baby. Let’s get some Strawbebbies,” you picked her up, making her shriek with laughter. Once again you were glad you made the decision to come here. She could grow up like a child was supposed to. 
Even though now that Bill and Frank were gone it was getting kind of lonely. You had all enjoyed a last dinner together before Bill and Frank had tucked Ava in for one last time and read her a story. 
You had tried to keep the tears at bay as Bill had reminded you of the folder full of instructions of how to take care of things around here for you. 
After dinner you had walked them to the gate, opening the fence for them as they took their last walk. You had watched them until they had disappeared into the dark woods before you made your way back to their house. You had cleaned the dishes and tidied everything up, before with a heavy heart, you had turned off all the lights and closed the door behind you before you walked to your house, allowing yourself to cry yourself to sleep as you sat on the floor next to the bed of your daughter, watching her sleep. 
That night was almost three months ago. The days were getting shorter, the nights colder. You’d have enough firewood for this winter but come spring you would have to find a way to make more. 
You had just finished making breakfast for Ava when the motion detector alarmed you that someone was at the gate. You froze, telling Ava to eat her fruit salad before you made your way downstairs to check out what was happening. 
Your heart was pounding against your chest, once you noticed his face. 
Joel Miller. 
And a…. Teenage girl?
The gate swung open after he put in the code and you allowed yourself fifteen seconds to panic. You knew this day would come. The day after Bill and Frank had gone you had checked the basement, finding that Bill had put on 80’s music, the distress signal. 
Even though you had turned it off immediately deep down you knew he would show up at some point. 
You just did not think it would be that soon. 
You grabbed your gun, checking if it was loaded before you made your way back upstairs. You did not think you would need it, but it was better to be prepared. 
“Ava? Remember when Uncle Bill played hide and seek with you and showed you the best place to hide?” you asked, hiding the gun in the back of your jeans as you got to your kitchen. She nodded. 
“I want you to hide there until I come and get you,” you said. 
“Hide?” she asked. You nodded, kissing her cheek. 
“Take Sluggi with you,” you smiled. Sluggi was the stuffed plush slug Bill had gotten for her. She nodded and ran out of the kitchen and upstairs, You heard her door to her room close and took a deep breath, calming yourself. 
You knew this day would come. You knew one day you would have to face Joel Miller and you knew you would have to face his reaction. 
You never regretted your decision to leave. Life has definitely been better here. That did not mean you had just stopped loving him, no matter how much he had hurt you in the past. 
Stepping towards your front door you could see him walk towards Bill and Frank’s house. 
You closed your eyes, taking a calming breath before you opened the door and stepped out. 
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His head snapped towards you once he heard the door opening, eyes widening for a split second before he pulled the girl that was with him behind his back. 
He was protecting her. 
“What are you doing here? Where are Bill and Frank?” he asked, his voice low. 
“They’re dead. Frank got worse and… he couldn’t…” you shook your head, lost of words. He just looked at you before he shook his head, trying to put in words what he wanted. 
“I just… We need some…” he took a deep breath, looking up at you, a million emotions playing over his face. 
“Are you hungry?” you asked the girl behind him. 
“Starving,” she replied and you smiled a little.
“There’s some fruit salad left on the kitchen counter if you want?” you asked. She stepped around Joel and he looked at her. 
“It’s safe. There’s… there’s no one there,” you lied. He gave her a nod before she walked past you into your home. 
It had been years since you’ve been alone with him. He did not really change. His hair maybe a little grayer, the lines around his mouth a little deeper, but he was still Joel Miller. 
“You left,” he said. 
“I did.”
“Why?”
You took a deep breath. You looked past him towards the house the girl had walked in, hoping your little girl continued to hide. Knowing her she had was working on her puzzle. She would be okay for a moment. 
You knew she was safe. You just needed a little moment alone. 
“You can have some fruit salad too. I am going to get some vegetables for dinner,“ you gave him a nod, before you turned around and walked towards your garden, ignoring him as he called after you. 
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With a basket full of salad, cucumbers and some tomatoes you pushed the door of your house open. Joel was sitting on the stairs, across the door, already looking at you. 
The girl walked past the both of you towards the living room, an apple in her hand she was munching on. 
„This is so fucking weird,“ she shook her head and you snorted while Joel hissed at her. 
„What? It is weird,“ she said, her head turned towards him. 
You smiled a little as you looked at her, before you walked towards the kitchen, setting the basket down. You had to go up to check on Ava. 
And you had to talk to Joel.
You couldn’t hide her from him, even though you wanted to do nothing more than that. 
You took a deep breath when he walked into the kitchen. 
„Is it okay if Ellie takes a shower?“ He asked, knowing that there was warm water around town. 
„That’s her name. Ellie,“ he clarified.
„Oh. Of course, yeah,“ you nodded and Ellie walked in, snorting as she looked up at Joel. 
„You could use one too dude,“ she said and you had to fight hard against the grin as you watched the look on Joel’s face. 
You were about to offer her to show her to the bathroom when you heard a door upstairs click open, followed from little footsteps, your eyes widening. Joel frowned, his hand immediately searching for his gun, his arm putting Ellie behind himself. 
He raised his gun, taking a step forward as you ran around the counter, the knife you had put out to cut the salad now in your hand. 
„Gun down,“ you hissed and his head snapped to you, his eyes widening when he saw the knife in your hand. You stood in front of him. 
„I will not repeat myself, put the gun down, right now or I will put this knife in your thigh,“ you fingers flexed around the handle of the knife. The footsteps came closer as you kept eye contact with Joel until he slowly lowered his gun. You nodded at him once you saw him put the gun back to wherever it came from, then looked at Ellie who was looking at you with wide eyes, before you let the knife fall down to the floor just in time as Ava jumped the last step down, rounding the corner. 
„Potty?“ She whispered shyly, looking up at you with big eyes and you sighed, before you nodded, the people behind you forgotten as you picked your daughter up. You risked a glance at Joel as you turned towards the stairs, your daughter in your arms.
His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, before you practically ran up the stairs. 
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„Who is the man mommy?“ Ava asked as she was finished, washing her hands like you taught her, making as many bubbles as possible as she rubbed her hands together. 
You sucked your bottom lip in as you watched her, your hand brushing over her soft hair. 
„That is an old Friend of mommy,“ you explained, and she nodded. 
„And the girl?“ She asked. 
„That is a friend of him, I think. I am not sure.“
She finished washing her hands and you handed her the towel, her little face full of concentration as she dried her hands, making you smile.
You got down on your knees in front of her, your hands on her shoulders. 
„Do you think she’s gonna play with me?“ She asked, hopeful.
„We can ask her,“ you said with a smile.
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You weren’t prepared for the sight in your kitchen when you came downstairs. Joel was standing at the counter, the sleeves of his shirt rolled back as he cut the tomatoes with the knife you had threatened with him not only ten minutes ago. 
He didn’t look up as you entered the room, but Ellie did. You looked between them warily. 
„I’m Ava,“ your daughter chirped and you took a deep breath, Joel still not looking up. Ellie looked at him with a frown, before she sighed, rolling her eyes, and walked towards you.
„I’m Ellie,“ she said and smiled a little and bend down to her knees. Ava looked first at her, then at you. 
„Ellie, do you like sea turtles?“ You asked and the girl looked at you. 
„Uh…. I guess?“ She said and you smiled. 
„Because Ava loves them. Her whole room is full of them,“ you said and saw interest flicker in her eyes.
„Can I see?“ Ellie asked and you nodded. 
„You wanna show Ellie your sea turtles?“ You asked Ava and she nodded eagerly. 
„Awesome,“ Ellie said, taking Ava’s hand before you could offer to show them, the girls already walking upstairs towards Ava's room. 
Which left you alone in the kitchen with….
„How old is she?“ Joel asked, still not looking at you as you turned to face him. He grabbed the cucumber after he had used the knife to put the tomatoes in the bowl you had prepared for the salad, beginning to slice them. 
You took a deep breath. 
„She turned three last month,“ you said, watching him nod slowly, the knife hitting the cutting board the only noise in the room. 
„She has my eyes,“ he finally said and you sucked your bottom lip in, nervous. 
„Yeah she has,“ you agreed and he finally looked up at you, setting the knife down, his hands spread out on the counter, resting his whole weight on them. 
„Why didn’t you tell me?“ He asked, his voice quiet. 
„I didn’t know how. Joel…. You were barely acknowledging me outside of when you were inside of me. You spend all your time with Tess doing god knows what. How would you have reacted if I told you that I was pregnant? You never even acknowledged what we…“ you stoped yourself, shaking your head. 
„You should have told me. I could have…“ he stopped himself, searching for what to say and you looked at him, waiting. 
„I could have helped you. I would have….“ He shook his head, his hands shaking. 
„I’m gonna need a moment. Can you watch after Ellie?“ He asked and you nodded, confused and he nodded back before he walked past you and out of the house. 
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You just didn’t think it would be almost two days before he got back. You were outside in Bill’s garden, letting the girls help you pick everything that was ready from the garden when you noticed him walk towards the house. 
You knew he was still inside the little locked up town Bill had made his safe haven. None of the alerts had went off, indicating he had left. And yeah you could have searched after him, but what good would it have done?
You’ve known him from almost twenty years, and you knew that he needed time to process certain things. 
He hadn’t talked to anyone in almost a year after the outbreak and what happened to Sarah. 
„Look what the cat dragged in,“ Ellie said as she spotted him and Ava perked up, her little head turning towards where Ellie was looking. 
Joel nodded at the girls before he looked at you. 
The sun was already setting and you had dinner prepared inside. 
„How about we have some dinner and then Ellie can read you some more of the story you started yesterday?“ You asked and both girl smiled at you. Ava ran past Joel who looked after her as she disappeared into the house, Ellie following her. 
„Next time you ditch me, at least tell me?“ She glared at him before she walked back into the house. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. 
„Can we talk?“ He asked. 
„After dinner?“ You said, getting up and grabbing the basked full of fresh vegetables. 
„Yeah. Yeah okay,“ he nodded and you walked towards the house, giving him a hesitant smile when he grabbed the basket from you and walked inside after you. 
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It was two hours later that you found yourself on the left corner of your couch, your legs tucked under you, a glass of wine in your hand. 
Because this conversation needed some alcohol. 
And not only because of what you were about to talk about, but because of the man who was sitting on the other side of the couch, similar glass of wine in his hand. 
Because he looked so damn good.
He had showered while you put the girls to bed after dinner, the whole scene feeling so domestic. Like a dream you had many many times before when you were still dreaming. 
Dreaming of a normal future. 
Dreaming of a normal life. 
Dreaming about how it would feel like if Joel Miller loved you back. 
Because no matter how much he may have hurt you in the past, you just could not stop loving him. 
„I’m sorry,“ he whispered after a while and you turned your head to look at him, his eyes already on you. 
„I’m shit at talking about those things….“ He stopped.
„Those things meaning feelings?“ You helped and he groaned. 
„Yeah. Always sucked at it. Even before….“ 
He sighed. 
„Sarah would be so angry with me with how I treated you,“ he whispered and your eyes softened. You could count on one hand how often he had brought Sarah up ever since she died. 
And while you thought you could understand him in the past, you loved her like yours after all, now that you had Ava, you realised that loosing her would kill you. 
It would be something you could never come back from. 
But he did. 
„I never cheated on you. I know you thought I did, can’t blame your for it. Tess was just…. Fuck, how do I explain this?“ He sighed, his fingers rubbing over his chin. 
„I never deserved you. You’re too fucking good for me. For everyone really. Because even after the whole world went to shit, you still had some kindness left for everyone around you. I know how much you hated what we did in the beginning. And I hated myself for putting you through it. I hated myself for putting you through everything I did to you since the moment Sarah died…“ he said and you could see his eyes watering. 
„Can’t blame you for hating me and leaving. And not telling me about….“
„Joel….“ You said, setting your glass down and getting closer towards him, your hand reaching for his. Slowly he turned his hand so you could put yours in it, his fingers wrapping around your hand softly. 
„I’m not gonna lie and tell you that it’s okay. Cause I was hurting. You were hurting me. Every time you left in the morning without a word. Every time you passed out drunk and drugged after you came back. It was like living with a ghost and it was killing me. That was the reason I decided to leave when I found out. I could…. I couldn’t bring a child into this. And I knew I wanted her before I even met her. Even though it seems crazy to bring a child into this world. But… She was half you. And the thought that there was even the possibility that you didn’t wanted her….“ You took a deep breath. 
„Honestly? I can’t tell you how I would have reacted. I was… I was really fucked up in the weeks before you left. I was taking too many drugs. Drank too much. Got too fucking reckless. But that changed when you left,“ he said and squeezed your hand. 
„Not right away. It might have gotten worse first but… I got better. Not perfect, but better. And I… Fuck I even talked through some shit with someone. Made me realise I never even told you how much I love you,“ he said and you were pretty sure you stopped breathing as he looked at you, a small smile tilting his lips up. 
„Pretty sure I fell for you the first time you walked through my door wearing that pretty baby blue dress. Even though you were way too young for me. Still are. But…. I hope you knew, know. I really fucking love you,“ he said and you felt a tear running down your cheek. 
„Can you tell me about her? About Ava?“ He asked before you could form an answer to his confession. And so instead you told him. 
You told him about how you craved strawberries your whole pregnancy. How Bill traded one of his guns for the seeds from Tess.
You told him that she only slept through the night in the beginning, when Bill put her to sleep. 
You told her how much she reminded you of Sarah when she smiled at you. 
You told her how every time you looked at her you saw him. 
Hours went by where you two talked, you ending up leaning against Joel’s side, his arm around you. His fingers brushing over your arm, his other hand still holding yours. His lips brushing over your skin when he told you about how Ellie ended up at in his care. 
How he wanted to take her to Wyoming to search for his brother who might know how to find the fireflies. 
„Do you know where he is?“ You asked and he shrugged. 
„Not exactly. I know he messaged me from the Cody tower, so that’s where we’ll be going,“ he mumbled and you nodded. 
„We could take Bill’s truck,“ you said and he stilled. You looked up at him. 
„We?“ He asked and you chuckled, sitting yourself up so you were facing him, your hand now on his cheek. 
„You really think I’m gonna let you go now?“ You asked with a smile. 
And then you finally kissed him. 
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It was decided that you would leave within the next 5 days, giving you enough time to make a list (You always made lists) of everything you had to pack. 
Which was a lot. Getting four people across the country on a trip that hopefully would be just like you remembered road trips to be, took a lot of supplies. 
And while you were preoccupied deciding which food was best to take, Joel had asked you if he could spend some time with Ava. He wanted to get to know her. And of course, you agreed. Watching him, Ellie and Ava walk towards the garage where they spend hours doing god knows what. 
It was almost dark outside when they walked back in, your heart melting as you watched Joel carry a very sleepy Ava inside who told you all about how seatbelts where very scary, something you would make sure to ask Joel about as you took her upstairs, putting her to bed. 
The days went by quickly like that.
Joel quickly became Ava’s favourite person which could have to do with the fact, that she was always allowed to sit on his shoulders. Ellie had been confused, yet delighted at the change in the grumpy man she had left the QZ with. 
He even got his Dad jokes out, making the teenager groan in mock annoyance throughout the day. Ellie also spend a lot of time with you, wanting to learn everything you offered to teach her. Starting from making protein bars for the trip down to how to properly braid her hair. 
Even though she preferred you doing it. 
You got the impression that she never really had anyone how just… listened to her or wanted to spend time with her. She told you she grew up in FEDRA School and that her mother had died while giving birth. 
She had no family and her best friend (though you got the impression Riley had been more than just a friend) had died not that long ago. 
That the only thing she had left in life was her purpose to save the world. Joel had told you that she was immune, Ellie showing you the healed scars to confirm it. 
„You know that that’s not the only thing you have left, right?“ You asked her, sitting on the porch next to her, enjoying one last sunset, watching Joel and Ava play soccer. Her little feet chasing after Joel with happy squeals. 
„What do you mean?“ Ellie asked and you looked at her with a smile. 
„You have us, Ellie. You think we just gonna let you go?“ You asked and she stubbornly shook her head. 
„I have to do this. It’s my purpose. I have to save the world,“ she said and looked away from you. 
„Are you saying this because you feel that way, or because someone told you so?“ You asked and she looked at you. 
„Because it should be your decision what to do and what not. And… think about it, even if they are somehow able to make a cure out of your blood, do you really think they will be able to make enough to make a vaccine for everyone? Who will decide who gets it? And if they end up deciding on giving it to everyone…. There are so many bad people out there. Do they deserve to be saved too?“ You asked and you could see her thinking about your words and you smiled softly at her. 
„Even if you don’t like hearing it, your a kid Ellie. You should grow up and live first before you make a decision like that. You don’t even know how they would get whatever they needed from your blood. If I remember correctly Cordyceps grow in the brain, what if they have to get into your brain to get out whatever they need?“ You said and her eyes widened. 
„But Marlene….“ She whispered and you reached over her, taking her hand. 
„I don’t know how well you know Marlene, but I’ve known her for more than ten years. I know how she manipulates people to get what she wants. You wouldn’t even notice it,“ you said and she sighed. 
„I’m gonna think about it,“ she said finally and you gave her a small smile. 
„That’s all I ask about. Now how about you get upstairs and take one last long hot shower before we are on the road for days?“ You asked and she nodded, standing up and turning away from you to walk inside the house before she turned back to you and hugged you quickly.
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After saying good night to Ellie later you walked towards your daughters room, her little suitcase for her toys laying open next to her bed, waiting for Sluggi to be put into the next morning. She was already in bed, Joel sitting on the floor next to her, reading to her. 
You wished you could take a picture of this. Unfortunately the Polaroid camera had broken earlier this year. 
„Mommy!“ A tired Ava smiled as she saw you, her arms raised towards you. Joel looked up and smiled at you as you walked over, climbing into the bed behind your daughter, pulling her into your arms. 
„What story is Joel reading you?“ You asked. 
„The little mermaid,“ she said and you found Joel’s eyes. You had been thinking about it for the last days now. Telling her who Joel really is. He slipped into your life like the missing piece, the man you had fallen in love with all these years back seemingly falling right back into his role as being the best father there ever could be. 
So before you could talk yourself out of it you said
„Your sister loved that one too.“
Joel gulped, his eyes growing sad for a moment, before he looked at Ava. 
„I have a sister?“ She asked you, her eyes big.
„Mmmh…. Her name was Sarah. She watched the movie every single night before she went to bed,“ you explained and Ava pursed her lips in an ooooh motion. 
„There was a movie?“ She asked in awe.
„Oh yeah there was. And a cassette with the music. Can’t remember how often she made me listen to it“ Joel said and smiled softly. 
„Where is Sarah?“ Ava asked and your smile went sad. 
„She’s where Uncle Bill and Uncle Frank are. Watching over us,“ you explained and she hummed. 
„I wish I could hug her,“ she whispered and you nodded, tears in your eyes, squeezing her against your chest, your hand reaching out Joel’s hand finding yours as you kissed her forehead, looking at him who had tears in his eyes. 
„Me too baby. Me too,“ you whispered before taking a deep breath.
„You know Joel is her daddy,“ you finally said and she looked at you. 
„He is?“ She asked and you nodded. 
„I bet he is the best daddy,“ she sighed and you chuckled at Joel’s cheeks turning pink. 
„Yeah he is. What would you say if I tell you that Joel is your daddy too?“ You asked and her big eyes looked at you first and then her head turned towards Joel. 
„My daddy?“ She asked and both you and Joel nodded with a smile, her smile getting wider, before she jawned.
„I always wanted a daddy,“ she whispered before her eyes dropped close. 
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You were walking down the stairs to Bill's basement after you showered, finding Joel checking if he could manage to take any more guns. The supplies had all been packed into the truck already, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave anything of value behind. 
He looked up when he heard your footsteps, giving you a small smile. 
Walking over to him you were surprised when he reached for you, pulling you into his lap, one of his arms looped around you, his other hand on your cheek, his fingers brushing over your skin. 
„I didn’t know you were gonna tell her,“ he whispered and you smiled. 
„She deserves to know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell her sooner. If I would have stayed you wouldn’t have missed so much…“ he stopped you by kissing you softly. 
„None of that. We both know I would have fucked this up. I would have said some really fucked up things and hurt you even more. So, there’s nothing you have to be sorry for, okay?“ He looked at you, his eyes pleading. 
You released a long breath, bringing both of your arms up to cross behind his neck. 
„Have I told you lately that I love you, Joel Miller?“ You whispered with a small smile that he mirrored. 
„Don’t think so. But I don’t blame you, I gotta say it a lot more often than you to make up for all the years I didn’t tell you. I do love hearing it though. Love you,“ he mumbled before he kissed you again. His lips moving on top of yours slowly, his hand tilting your head up a little so he could deepen the kiss. 
With a little sigh you parted your lips for him, his tongue dipping into your mouth, a deep moan coming from him, his arm pulling you closer against him. 
There had been lots of making out in the last days, stolen kisses when the girls weren’t in the room, secret touches under the table while you had dinner. 
But you haven’t slept together. 
And you were ready. 
„Joel,“ you mumbled, parting from his lips. He hummed, his lips running down your jaw. 
„We aren’t gonna be alone for a while,“ you whimpered, your head tilting up to give his wandering lips some more space. 
„What are you proposing?“ He asked, playfully nibbling on your neck. 
„I’m proposing that you fuck me, Miller. Right here,“ you gasped when you felt his other hand slip between your legs. 
„Right here?“ He asked, his fingers over the seam of your slick panties. 
„Mmmmhh….“ You closed your eyes, biting your lip when he pushed the fabric to the side, his fingers dipping between you slick folds, lazily teasing you. 
„All that for me?“ He asked and you opened your eyes, crashing your lips against his. 
„It’s been almost four years Joel. Please don’t tease me,“ you whined and his eyes softened before he picked you up and set you down on the table behind him. Within the next minutes you were both naked, your hands in his hair as you kissed him as he stood between your parted legs, the heavy weight of his cock resting against your stomach. 
„Gonna need to prepare you,“ he hummed, his hands on your ass. You shook your head. 
„Please just fuck me. You know I can take it,“ you whined, one of your hands wrapping around his cock, making him hiss. He groaned, sucking your bottom lip between his before he slapped your hand away, his dark eyes fixed on yours as he held his hand out to you. Waiting. 
Feeling your whole body heat up you spit in his hand and the left corner of his mouth twitched. 
„My good girl,“ he praised you and you couldn’t stop whimpering. 
He brought his hand down to wrap it around his cock, coating it in your saliva, before he lined himself up. You had dripped on the table you were sitting on, more than ready to take him. 
„I love you,“ he whispered and you looked at him with a soft smile, your lips parting when he slowly pushed his cock into you. Filling you inch by inch, both of you starring into each others eyes. 
„Missed this,“ you moaned. 
„Missed you,“ you crossed your legs behind him, giving him a little push, his cock finally filing you up completely. 
„Fucking Perfect,“ he groaned kissing you again before he began to move, pumping into you slowly. 
You let yourself fall back down against the table, stretching your arms over your head, your back arching, your tits moving every time Joel fucked into you. 
He licked his fingers, bringing it down between your legs, his thrusts getting harder as he rubbed your clit, your pussy clenching around him. 
„Yes… Baby… Just like that….“ You moaned, your hands coming down to play with your tits. 
„You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?“ He asked, moving faster, his skin slapping against yours every time he moved.
Nodding, you moaned, your eyes rolling back as you came, your whole body shaking as he fucked you through it. 
„Shit….“ He groaned, both of his hands now coming to rest on either side of you as he leaned down, fucking into you deeply, chasing his own orgasm. 
„Want you to cum again,“ he grunted, kissing you, drilling his cock into you, the whole table moving over the floor. 
„Want you to cum inside me. Let me feel you,“ you whimpered, your hands in his hair, trying to meet his thrusts. 
„Fuck that is…. Not a good idea….“ He laughed and you grinned. 
„I don’t care. Wanna feel you. Cum for me, Joel. Cum inside me,“ you whispered and he groaned, fucking into you a half dozen times more before you felt him twitch inside of you, filling you, making you cum for a second time. 
Both out of breath you looked at each other before Joel leant down and kissed you. 
„Sleep in bed with me?“ You hummed against his lips. 
„As long as you let me,“ he answered against your lips before you both sneaked upstairs. 
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Against all odds after six days of a rather boring trip across the country you reached the radio tower in Cody. And two days later a group patrol of people on horses found you, asking you all kinds of questions before a man pulled the bandana that had been covering his face down, revealing Tommy Miller in the flesh. 
By now you were living in Jackson for almost a year. 
Ellie had decided to stay and live her life, the constant threat of someone looking for her still on the horizon, but it was decided that the town was not in immediate danger. Patrols kept an eye out for fireflies, but they haven’t spotted anyone. 
You were living a happy life all things considered. 
Ava went to pre school, Ellie went to normal school. They really became sisters in the last year, spending a lot of time together. 
Even though Ellie started to spend more and more time with a girl called Dina you suspected was more than just a friend. 
Joel was always working on improving the house. 
He had changed the most, back to the man he had been before the outbreak. Yes, he still was the protector when he needed to be, but most of the time he was just Joel. Your husband. 
„Yellow?“ He asked, holding the can of paint up.
You walked over to him with a smile, nodding.
„It’s a happy colour. I like happy colours,“ you shrugged and he chuckled, setting the can down on the floor before he put his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.
One of his hands came to rest on your growing belly, the baby inside kicking up a storm as if it could sense their dads hand, making you both smile. 
„Still think it’s gonna be a girl?“ You asked and he nodded, before he kissed you softly. 
„Think I’m meant to be surrounded by beautiful girls,“ he hummed before he kissed you again. 
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sugurufic · 1 month
Text
Shopping Carts and Conversations (Geto x Reader)
Summary: You're out shopping with the twins and Geto, when an eldery couple mistakes you for a young couple and the twins as your kids, a comment you're too happy to ignore.
Word Count: 1.2k
Content Warnings: Fluff, for context it's related to Co-Parenting with Suguru, but there's no need to read that for this.
masterlist
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At the supermarket, Mimiko clings to your leg as you walk down the cleaning supplies aisle. You grab a bottle of the fabric conditioner and give it to the four year old to smell. Her little nose scrunched up, and you hand her another fragrance of the fabric conditioner. She approves that one and you throw it in your cart.
“Are you tired Mimiko?” You ask the little girl, she shakes her head in dissent but you can tell she is tired. You have been in the store for too long. “Come here,” you tell her before picking her up in your arms, and she quickly wraps her little arms and legs around you. She is very thin and light for a four year old, all thanks to those cruel villagers. 
With Mimiko at your hip, you push the cart forward and grab your favourite brand of laundry detergent and stain remover. You can't remember if Geto has extra dishwash, you quickly text him asking about it.
Geto Suguru: No Geto Suguru: Are you by the cleaning supplies? You: Yes You: Where are you? Geto Suguru: I'll be there in a moment
You're startled with a fake cough near your ear, but you smile on realising it's Geto and Nanako. The sight in front of you makes you and Mimiko giggle - Nanako is sitting on Geto's shoulder, using his bun as her makeshift support. You quickly snap pictures and show it to Mimiko, who nods in approval.
“What's so funny to you?” Geto asks. “Nanako here was helping me search. You rushed away so quickly.”
“We did not rush away, I told you I'm gonna get some detergent. You're out of it back home.” You counter. “Right, Mimiko?”
Mimiko nods in support and adds, “And you said ‘hmm’, Geto Sama,”
Geto blushes for a moment, embarrassed. “Well, all that matters is that we've found you now.”
“Sure,” you tease, giggling. “What did you get?”
“We have to get rice, lentils and vegetables.” Geto says, holding Nanako’s knees on either side of his head. He brings her to his arms and sits her down on the baby carrier in your cart and pushes it out the cleaning supplies aisle after you throw the dishwash in it.
“We’re out of carrots and cucumbers,” you note. “We have enough tomatoes to last the week. Oh, potatoes - stock up on them. That seems about right.” You turn to the child on your hip and then to the one in the cart. “What do you guys think of apples and bananas?”
“Nooo…” they both whine in unison.
“But you have to eat it, or you won’t get big or strong like Geto-kun,” You tease. The girls think hard at that, always admiring Geto as their father figure. “All of us can have fruits together, then ice cream after?”
The twins look like they want to say no, but they’re big fans of ice cream like most children, so they don’t protest much. You and Geto sneaked in some more fruits to the cart and different vegetables that most kids were known to not like. You wait for your cart to be unloaded into bags by the entrance with Mimiko, while Nanako continues to cling to Geto. You reach out for her when Geto is at the exit to get the bill scanned, holding the two of them on either side. Once free of the guard, he quickly snaps a picture and holds the bags in one hand and Mimiko with the other.
“What lovely kids you have got,” An elderly woman entering the store comments. She is with her husband and presumably their grandchild. Your face heats up, but you don’t bother correcting her, and neither does Geto. “Such a lovely young couple with a family,”
“Thank you,” Geto says, smiling at the old couple. “Is that your grandchild? He looks adorable.”
“He is spending the weekend with us,” The old man says with a nod. “May the gods be kind to you,”
“Thank you,” You say this time. “We hope the same for you,”
Your face burns as you sit Nanako and Mimiko down in the back of the car as Geto loads the bags into the trunk. Your girls have little smiles on their face, and you ask them what they’re smiling about.
“You didn’t say anything when they called us a family,” Nanako says.
“And you thanked them for the prayers,” Mimiko adds.
“Well, that’s because we are a family, aren’t we?” You say, caressing both their baby cheeks with either hand. “It’s nice to be polite to polite people.”
On the way back, you’re both quiet, enjoying listening to the twins talk among themselves. Their delight at your silent acceptance has your heart soaring, and you cannot keep that stupid smile off your face. You are barely holding back your giggles, not wanting Geto to think that you have gone crazy. 
“What’s got you so smiley?” Geto quietly asks you, his hand settling on your knee after changing gears.
“They’re so happy to be considered our family,” you admit, unable to keep the giddiness out of your voice. “I love them so much,”
Geto glances at you from the mirror, admiring the way you glow with joy. He half hopes you’ll remark on that comment of the old lady of you being a lovely couple, but you don’t - too happy to be considered the girls’ mother. He supposes it’s fine, wondering if he will ever gather the courage to ask you out.
“You know, you’ve been helping me out so much, why don’t you start calling me Suguru?” He says instead. “It’s a little strange to hear our girls see you as a mother figure but you still calling me Geto,”
You giggle once again, admiring his pretty face from the side. His eyes flicker to the mirror, but he is mostly focused on the road. It’s nice to hear him ask this so casually, and somehow you hope he’ll say something else, something more - but you’ll happily take what he offers. “Okay, Suguru,” you test, loving the way his name rolls off your tongue. He looks positively delighted too. “You should start addressing me by my first name too, then.”
“Of course,” he says, the sound of your name sounding angelic in his soft voice. You get why he has always been popular among the girls, his pretty face and voice and gentle manners are easy to impress almost anyone. Your face only brightens when he hums out your name, a chuckle escaping you.
Geto cannot stop thinking about the elderly couple addressing you and his girls as a lovely young couple with a family - he hasn’t felt that delighted in a long while, praying to the gods who listen to give him courage, courage to finally ask you out for a date. You’re so kind, helping him with the girls and reassuring him that he is doing a great job with the girls, spending your time with him and your girls, acting like the unassigned-assigned head of the household. 
In his rose coloured dream, he can freely hold you and kiss your pretty face as he pleases, the girls call him papa and call you mama - it’s a fantasy so close to reality that he can almost taste it, but like Tantalus’ fruit, it’s just a bit too far away.
A/N: Can you tell that i'm in love with this dynamic?
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sukunas-wife · 4 months
Note
YOU NEED TO MAKE MORE DAD!SUKUNA😭 It’s just soo good!!!, I’m literally obsessed with Dad!sukuna🫶🏻
lol here’s a little snippet to start the day, in other words I had a domestic dream 🥺🤍
Jujutsu Teacher Sukuna AU
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Somewhere in another time line Sukuna became a not so dedicated teacher at Jujutsu high school still after having turned himself into a curse, even 1000 years he landed a spot on the higher up’s board it hilarious when they try to execute someone and he completely disagrees.
They learned quickly is Sukuna disapproves of their actions agree with arrimen Sukuna. Don’t go behind his back and try to do it either. He’s not afraid to kill everyone and replace the entire board of Higher Ups
Then one year he met you, you came in from the sister school to be teacher. Usually he tried not to mess with staff they only last so long anyways. But maybe it was that time he saw you banging your head in the drink machine because you used your last bills to buy a drink and it got stuck. Or maybe it was that time Gojo and Toji surprisingly decided to team up against you and you managed to hold your own.
It was when YOU started to pursUE HIM he became really intrigued. At first he became annoyed because not to far behind the corner he could hear the snickering and “Oh she’s really doing it!” “She’s a brave woman to try and flirt with him…” “What are you idiots do- oh, this could be interesting.” “shhh, I can’t hear what he’s saying!”
You didn’t notice when he flicked his wrist, but you did hear your coworkers panic and the rushed steps. Looking back confused you were more confused when you looked back at Sukuna and he was leaning forward getting face to face with you before squishing your face in one of his hands. “You do understand you proud Jujutsu Sorcerers don’t live very long, so give me one good reason you want my attention.”
You wanted to badly to look away from those demanding red eyes, to pull away and breath the God given air, instead here you were getting dazed off his musk and cologne. Feeling his warm hand squish your face, nails lightly pressing against your skin. Smash- swallowing you had one chance to do this right. Don’t stutter, don’t fear, breath, don’t rush, don’t show him WEAKNESS.
“I J- ahem” ah.. I messed up already, “Wait let me restart- Okay I’m ready, I’m not gonna stand here and promise happiness smiles and endless love, praise and worship. I’m not gonna lie to your face and tell you everything you want to hear and pretend it’s all sunshine and rainbows. When I go on a mission I’m not gonna say I promise to always come back that would be a fools move. But at least in my last moments I’d have to privilege to remember you and all those wise words you used to tell me like. “Dumbass that’s why you keep more than two dollars in your wallet.” Or “Living to please others and dying with regrets if no helping everyone is vain, Live to please yourself at least in your final moments you’ll have some sense of fulfillment.” So like it or not I’m here to please myself if you say No and tell me to fuck off and send me on my way. I won’t regret having asking. If you say yes, well I won’t lie I wouldn’t really know what to do or say I came in expected to be rejected and humbled.” Finally your eyes left his, you were oblivious to stare he had. He wasn’t completely amused but he wasn’t bored of your words either. “Look at me.” You did, “you didn’t bore me entirely with your little … speech so I’ll give you one opportunity. Sunday, I have an early mission, meet me here at 4 in the morning and I’ll tell you with me. After I finish you can have the rest of my day or until I get bored.”
He didn’t get bored… it turned out you amused him so much more when you weren’t surrounded be suits.
And that’s how you ended up here.
“Yuji don’t say something stupid love can’t protect anyone.” Nobara rolled her eyes, “Yuh huh, your words can’t hurt me because my mom and dad’s love protects me.” He puffed his chest out crossing his arms and smiling with closed eyes, missing the book Nobara was throwing at him. A solid sound was made, Yuji was wide eyed, the all to familiar wrist holding the heavy book just in front of his face, “Careful Miss.Kugisaki it’d be a shame if you caught extra missions for disabling another student from completing his own.” Yuji smiled proudly, “See, protected.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes, “Get to class Fushiguro was on your ass last time for being late to class.” He nodded his head at Yuji who just smiled sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, “Alright.” Of course the Trio ran past you greeting you with “Hi Mrs.Sukuna!” Good morning Mom!” “Morning Y/n Senpai.” You watched them all keep running until your husband stood next to you offering you the Coffee Cup he had been drinking. You were distracted by one thing “Why do you have our photo album?” Sukuna felt his eye twitch, “Damn brat.” Was all he mumbled tucking it under his shoulder, “Your son believes your love protects him.”
You laughed, “OUR son believes OUR love for him protects him. Considering your holding that book Im assuming Kugisaki tried to throw it at him or you were reminiscing on that time you had to save them from a Special Grade ambush and when you had to carry them all out Yuji was sniffling how he knew he could count on you to be there for him.”
He looked away, “Higher ups are lucky I only wiped out half of them.” You rested your head on his shoulder pulling the album from him. “Aaww this is Yuji’s baby album” you cooed seeing the picture of Sukuna holding Yuji next to a bouquet of “It’s a Boy!” Balloons. In the background you could see the blur of Geto smacking Gojo on the back of the head.
Sukuna is secure as a man and father 🥹
So it’s not a surprise to you when you come home late from the school and find true form Sukuna threatening to break the sofa under his weight coddling 15yo Yuji 🥹
As much of a brute people have him to be, Yuji might be his only son, and he might call him brat and roll his eyes a lot. But he’d be damned if he were truly a bad dad. In a whispered conversation he told you about everything that happened on Yuji’s mission. How the mission was purposely miss graded and they basically walked into a special grade curses domain. Sukuna had no doubt in his mind that if wouldn’t have been the one over seeing their mission the first years wouldn’t have walked back out alive.
Yuji was alright the entire ride but when he got home he broke down crying, speechless gasping for air. That’s when Sukuna pick him up carrying him over the sofa, coddling Yuji wasn’t as easy now that they were almost the same height, so he turned to his true form. And let Yuji cry, scream and hold onto him. Rubbing his back, holding his head against his shoulder, just talking to him to comfort him. “Do you remember that time we went to the park, and you wondered off to far chasing a duck.” Yuji nodded still sniffling, “Your mom was scared shitless when she couldn’t find you.” He laughed and Yuji laughed lightly, “y.. yeah I remember I jumped into the pond and then you and mom started screaming and then jumped in…” sukuna laughed louder, “Y/n was so mad but she couldn’t stay mad when she saw you with that little duck.” He patted Yuji’s back resting his chin on his head. Soon Yuji fell asleep.
It led you to find him this state. You asked him to go lay him in his bed, he did. He came to help you make some comfort food, it was hilarious when you asked if he could use dismantle on vegetables and it turned out he could. Now over the table in the wall is a sign that says “Malevolent Kitchen.”
The house that night was filled with the soft sounds of cooking, you and your husband talking about whatever came to mind. The Golden pot boiling with whatever broth you made. Sukuna was fighting the rice cooker while you tempura fried some shrimp and rolled some noodles to cook
It was well past 9 when you heard Yuji coming, both of you turning to see him walking yawning and rubbing his eyes. Bare feet padding along the kitchen floor. “Come sit down Yu you gotta be hungry.” you fixed him a large bowl of noodles with Tempura shrimp. On the side were the massive Onigiri Sukuna had made, he even tried to use the nori stamp to put little faces on them. More often than not they have 4 little crooked eyes that looked mad but it squeezed your heart how he laughed to himself saying “Yuji’s going to love these.”
He did, you watched as he bit into it rice sticking to his face. “These are good dad what did you fill them with?” “Nitamago we forgot to pack em for lunch so.. improvise I guess.” You both sat down with Yuji talking and eating. Just enjoying the free time you had together before Sukuna would go commit another crime against the higher ups 🤍🤍
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Yeah 🥹
Im here 10-1 in the morning 🤍 It took all day to type this out 😭😭
Also a lot of my co workers walked out today 🥹 it was rough
Tag List: @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare
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macfrog · 5 months
Text
secrets cowboy like me chapter fourteen
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one day i'll rein my chapters back in. today is not that day. thirteen thousand words of...a little bit of fucking and a lot of fighting. i love you all and i still can't believe the love you continue to show this series. you're all actually insane. i present to you: the penultimate chapter of cowboy.
pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader
summary: the one where...everybody finds out.
warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), a big argument, a lot of guilt, angry disappointed dad, one mention of alcohol consumption, lil bit of sub!joel, unprotected piv, tiny bit of degradation, tiny bit of praise kink, creampie, cursing, smut, fluff, angst 
word count: 12.9k (dry heaves) 
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡
You haven’t slept a wink. Not one second.
You and Joel were awake until one in the morning on the phone; you – panicking, spilling words into the receiver, watching different cuts of your dad realizing everything as though projected across your blank ceiling, and Joel – monotone as fucking ever, batting every single theory away.
He doesn’t know a damn thing, he’d said. You didn’t miss the way his words hung over the edge of the sentence, trembling almost.
You scoffed and hissed back down the line. You don’t fucking know that! How can you know that?
You think he just found out about us and thought, Hey, better get some shut-eye before I deal with this? Really, baby?
I think he doesn’t know what he found out. I think he’s probably tryna convince himself that he’s wrong.
So, let him. He’s wrong. We go with that.
Joel knew he wasn’t doing anything to calm you down. Wasn’t offering anything you could seriously take on. You know he wasn’t trying to.
He was as worried as you were – he was just pretending not to be, because what fucking good would it do to have the two of you bouncing off one another with panic?
Still, he stayed on the phone the entire night. When he fell asleep, you lay in bed and tossed everything over in your head like tearing back the pages of a diary. Last night, then Frank’s, then the weekend before that, then the Hillcrest – all the way back to that first ride home. The pissing rain, the boxes of nails rattling in the glove compartment with each sway of the truck. Recalling every word spoken, every move made, every expression pulled and glance stolen and fucking breath taken.
Any sound from beyond your door shot a bullet of adrenaline through your veins, coursing through your body like ice. As if it was your dad, barreling in at 3AM to have it out with you.
You reckon you’d be ready if he did. Wide-eyed, fists clenched, heart hammering.
Joel groans back to life at eight. You hear the ruffling of bedsheets, the crackle down the line as he drags the phone across his mattress and pins it to his ear. You lift your own. Joel and 08:43:36, 37, 38 underneath it on the screen.
His voice drums low and groggy from the speaker. “You are gonna have my phone bill through the damn roof. I’m exhausted, darlin’.”
“I can’t think of anything else. He knows, Joel.”
He sighs. You can see his head falling into his hand, see his thumb rubbing circles into his temple. “Let’s just see what happens, alright? There ain’t any chance you left your phone in the living room ‘n he came across it, thought he’d keep it for you comin’ home?”
“I’ve barely left my room all week. Why would it be down there?”
Joel’s quiet. He just breathes down the line. After a minute, he clears his throat.
“Come over, would ya?”
“Huh?”
“Come over. I wanna see you. I wanna make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Joel, I’m –”
“Hey. Don’t make me ask again, alright? C’mon, now. I got some errands to run; you’re coming with me.”
He doesn’t have to say much else to convince you; you’re already pulling your bedsheets back and hanging up. Your hoodie and shorts are still hooked over the foot of your bed. The sun filters through the drapes, edges you nearer the door. Your chest fills with something calling itself bravery, and slowly, quietly – you click the door open.
The hallway is silent. A blushing gold in the morning light. The house is still – eerily still. Your dad’s room door is open, bed made, sheets tucked neatly under the mattress. Like he had time to spend on it. Stuff to mull over as he made it.
The carpet softens your footsteps when you finally move for the stairs. The birds are singing outside. The wallpaper canvases your shadow, a little monster creeping along one step behind you, passing picture frames which dazzle with sunrays and mirror a half-lit reflection back to you. One side you – the other, missing.
You lean over the last step, craning your head and shoulders into the hallway. The clock on the wall opposite ticks to no one. Tick tick tick tick. And aside from it, from its taunting tutting, there are no other signs of life. His jacket hangs from the peg. His boots lying below, laces tangled.
The sun separates into brittle shards through the window, illuminating the way to the kitchen. You’re not fucking prepared to follow it.
Shoulders hunched, like it might make a difference, you step forward and lower your thumb and index finger over your keys, aiming for them like a shaky arcade claw machine. Tick tick tick. They jingle as you hook your fingertip through them. Your nose wrinkles.
“Hey.”
He appears around the corner like an apparition. The keys drop back to the unit with a violent clatter.
“Jesus!”
“Woah, woah.” Your dad holds a palm up, laughing nervously. “Sorry. Where you headed?”
“Uh, J– Sarah’s. Some errands she wants some help with.”
He nods. “Yeah? You don’t want breakfast first?”
You drag your eyes to meet his for the first time. He looks drawn, skin like webbing, as though it’s just draped over his skull. As though you could put your finger through it like parchment, just push straight through. He looks like he’s had about as much sleep as you have.
“No, thanks,” you say, the sunken, sullen sight of him crumbling your voice to dust. Your lips move wordlessly, waiting for another lie from your tongue to offer over. But between the way he looks, weary and forlorn, and the thin veil of truth left between you – nothing materializes.
“Why don’t you – why don’t you hold back a second?” Dad beckons you forward, folding his fingers to his palm. “Got somethin’ I wanna talk to you about.”
“Dad, I really gotta go, I –”
“Just – come on. I’m sure Sarah won’t mind.”
He disappears without waiting for a response. Shifts back into the living room, shadow following him like a cloak across the door. You hear the creak of his chair as he settles down into it, the unsettling squeal of leather and spring.
Your feet are planted to the hall floor. To move in either direction feels like a trap. To follow after him – sit opposite and swallow back what you think you know is coming. All of his suspicions stuck in your throat like a bitter, powdery pill. Or to turn away – leave him in an empty house, nothing but the sound of his own breathing and that tick tick tick affirming your guilt.
No more excuses filter through – none of Joel’s ideas, none of his explanations. You let your shoulders drop and your eyes close. The only image behind them is that six-foot, graying, droning idiot who’s probably sat waiting for you to pull up so he can take you to fucking Trader Joe’s or whatever.
And his shirt, which he’d probably drape over your shoulders before he’s even said hello. And his smile, which would draw you onto your tiptoes, draw your lips to his. And his hands, and his waist, and his pulse in step with yours as you follow him around the quiet store, the Saturday morning air daring you to hook your fingers around two of his every now and then. The longing a gnawing in your chest, burrowing deep beneath the cage of your ribs.
He's not here, though. It’s just you. And if you call him now, if he shows up unannounced – it’s only going to confirm what your dad thinks. Fuck it – what he knows.
So you unstick your sneakers and haul yourself through to the living room.
He’s rocking in the chair when you sink back into the couch. Balls of his feet pushing him back and forth. His fingers to his lips, like keeping the words at bay for now. Like feeling the jagged shape of them through his skin.
You throw a pillow over your legs, shaggy ivory fringe tickling your bare thighs. Your dad doesn’t speak. When you lift your head, his eyes flit from yours down to your restless fingers knitting the tassels of his pillow.
“What is it?” you croak.
“Mind if I ask you somethin’?”
You shrug. “Go for it.”
He waits a beat. A hesitation. Like he doesn’t want to ask the first question. He’s at the edge of a cliff. One more step and he’s plummeting down the rocky side, into a fog of cloud. Nothing will ever be the same. Only – you’ve already pushed him. He’s already falling. He just hasn’t realized it yet.
Maybe he feels the drop in his stomach, right now. Maybe the wind screams in his ears. He finally asks, “When were you gonna tell me about y’all gettin’ into a barfight on Friday night?”
Unexpected. But keep your fucking cool.
Your fingertip whitens, blood halted by the knot of the cushion fringe. You chew on a torn leaf of skin from your lips. “What?”
“You ‘n Joel. When he picked you up. What the hell happened?”
Your eyes slide from his to the patio door behind him, garden lighting up with the sun scaling higher in the sky. You stare there until it burns, until it’s all just a blur of color in your vision, and then pull a half-blinded gaze back in his direction.
You’re frozen, as if he has you at gunpoint. Shoulders tense, eyes wide. Dontshootdontshootdontshoot. “Who –? Who said that?”
“Hank. Was on the phone to ‘im last night. Anna said Joel was squarin’ up to some kid in Frank’s. You wanna tell me exactly what happened?”
“Nothing.” Liar. “Nothing happened. It was just some asshole. Joel was just lookin’ out for me. For us. Me ‘n Anna.”
“She told Hank he knocked the kid out. That Sam had to stop it from gettin’ outta control.”
He stares at you, and there’s no mask on his face. No cover, no disguise. He’s suspicious. And he doesn’t care that you know it. He’s not just asking about the barfight.
“Are you gonna say it or am I, hon?”
“Say what?”
Your last thread of insane hope that he’s innocently wondering about Frank’s is snapped in two by the words that tear out of his mouth, so quick they rip into your skin like shards of glass.
“What the hell’s goin’ on between you two?”
Your body suddenly drops further into the couch, the weight of your blood freezing to ice in your veins. Your joints seize, your jaw locks. Air passes across your open lips with no intention of carrying words back out the way it came. You forget any ability you had previously to come up with excuses, to cover up, to lie. Hell, you’re not sure you’d remember your own fucking name if he asked that next.
You say nothing. And he cocks his head, drums his fingers on the arm of his chair.
Say something.
“Nothing.”
Say something more convincing.
“Nothing?” you repeat, a shrill pitch in your voice like it’s a question. Like he’s dumb for even thinking there might be something weird going on. Like he’s the idiot.
The clock in the hall ticks to itself, amused. Fifteen little snaps. Each one sounds like a plate of glass beneath your feet, cracking a little more, a little deeper, a little wider. The abyss opening its wide, dark jaws beneath you.
Your dad’s expression doesn’t change. He crosses his arms, head leaning back a little. He almost looks sad. Almost looks like he might give in. Send you on your way, on your errands with Sarah.
But something recharges him, something must flicker behind his eyes, because he sits forward again and watches your reaction intently as he says –
“Then explain the text messages you been sendin’ each other.”
Another blow hits your stomach, rippling waves of white heat through you. You feel hot, a scorching panic right beneath the surface of your skin so hot that it mistakes itself for ice cold. A panic which radiates from your heart, pulsating through your entire body, every limb beginning to shudder involuntarily. Your silence is answer enough.
He sighs. Sits forward with his elbows on his knees. “I knew y’all were close, knew you cared about each other. You sure always talked to ‘im more ‘n you ever talked to me, even before you went off to college. But I’ve been noticing things lately…Something’s different. Something’s changed.”
Your eyes trace his form as he talks. It’s fucking dizzying. He’s animated, like a character from some eighties cop show who finally solved the mystery. He knows. He knows everything. Your jaw won’t move to answer.
“Seeing you two together – talking, laughing. The way you look at each other these days. ‘n you’re always near each other, ain’t you? Always hoverin’. It ain’t anything like before. That day the three of us went to Costco, that – I –” His anger seems to boil over, cascading from his lips in an angry burst of hot breath. “I felt like a spare tire in the back of the truck that day.”
“We’re…We’re just…f-friends…I don’t –”
He holds a finger up. Doesn’t want to hear it. Not until his speech is done. The sun moves behind a cloud; the living room suddenly drains of light. “That day you said you were spending the night at Anna’s. Said you were havin’ a pool day, right?”
“Right,” you whisper, eyes closing over. They feel heavy. Tired and teary.
“Right. Except,” he brings his finger down, aims it straight at you, “Hank says you weren’t never there. Anna was at Sal’s all day Sunday.”
Fuck.
“Dad…”
You’re pleading with him now. Enough, I’ve heard enough. I know you know. As if you might still be able to stop the train, dig your heels in and hold on tight to derail it. Derail his thoughts. Salvage the situation, string it back together with shame and atonement.
But he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t even hear you.
“’n that’s when I got to thinkin’ – last Monday, at Joel’s. I went over to fix his sink – you remember I told you about his sink?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “I went over there, and he’s cookin’ this great big breakfast – pancakes, all of it – and there ain’t no one else in his house. Just him. Sarah was in Nashville, you remember?”
You take a deep breath. This is it. The ship’s beginning to disappear beneath the black waves.
“I thought maybe he had someone over, maybe expectin’ that girl from the plant hire…Anyway,” he bats his hand, bats the hopeful glint in Lois’s eye from his mind, “I’m walking downstairs, on my way out, and I notice somethin’ on the floor by the door.”
His chair squeaks timidly as he moves, his right arm lowering, scooping for something you can’t see yet. But when he shakily lifts it, your eyes fall to your knees. It hangs before you, apologetic and ashamed.
Joel was right. He knew it. You palmed him off. You told him your dad wouldn’t – couldn’t – put two and two together. And here he is, sat feet from you, holding the final piece to the puzzle in a quivering fist. Proof that, when he was in the house that day, you were only feet from him. Wrapped in his best friend’s shirt, dripping wet from his shower.
“This bag,” he hisses, and the tears finally drop onto your cheeks. They scurry to your chin, gathering and throwing themselves to your chest. Your shoulders drop, your eyes still low. You can’t look at him.
He speaks slowly. Speaks through his teeth. Every word like its own poisonous jab.
“Now you tell me: what in God’s name is your bag doin’ in Joel Miller’s hallway, at ten in the mornin’, when you’re supposed to be at Anna’s?”
Your fingers touch your forehead, a burning pain beginning to sting through your skull. You can feel your pulse in your temples. You’ve never wanted Joel to be stood in front of you so badly in all your life; just to deflect some of the interrogation off of you, just to give you breathing space. Just to protect you from the onslaught of questioning from your dad.
“No,” he mutters, shaking his head. The bag hits the carpet with a thud. “No, there ain’t no way. You were at Anna’s, right? You ain’t with Joel Miller, no way. I’m thinkin’, Please, God, don’t let that have been my daughter’s bag that day. But I’m right, ain’t I? You were there, weren’t you?”
You blink rapidly. The tears multiply quicker. The room is glossed in a protective film of salt and adrenaline. Give me something to say back. Give me something to say back.
“Where were you, hon? Musta been hidin’ somewhere, right?”
Give me something please think of something please come over please walk through that door please tell me what to say.
And then it comes to you. You blink the mist from your eyes. He said…he knew about texts you’d been sending Joel. How did he…?
“How did you know about the texts?”
“Pardon me?”
You straighten up and look him dead in the eye. Your voice feels hoarse. It sounds nothing like you. “How – did you know – about – the texts?”
“That’s your concern right now?”
“How – did you know?”
He begins to sputter, like the heat turned up under a pan on the hob. “Look, hon, you had me worried sick. Disappearin’ and I got no clue where you are. Always having an excuse to go off somewhere alone, no explanation. Don’t even get me started on those marks on your neck.”
Your hand immediately clamps around your throat, hot skin stained pink hissing into your palm. Joel’s teeth on you last night. His words cushioning the sharp bite. I love you. The heat hurts, now, when it felt so comforting just a few hours ago. It burns. It throbs. It feels like shame.
Your dad’s voice brings you back into the room.
“There’s another thing – last night,” he flings a laugh to you, “you were so quiet. So damn quiet. Didn’t say a word the entire time, and then I leave for all of ten minutes, and suddenly the two of you are headin’ over to his for – what was it? UCLA pamphlets?”
There’s a break between his words, a gap which makes you think that he wants you to answer. Like he’s giving you a chance, extending his arm. But he fills the space with a jeering laugh, and keeps talking.
“Where are they, huh? These pamphlets? ‘s why you were at Joel’s, right? Go on, go get ‘em. Show them to me.”
Your face solidifies. Lips tremble. There’s a scowl pulling your brows together. You’ve no right for it to be there. “Stop it,” you seethe. “Tell me what you did.”
“He’s the only one. The only one who could get you to talk. I had to check, kiddo. I had to know.”
Your stare doesn’t let up. Your lips bolt shut, refusing to say another word until he confesses. Which he does. Almost breezily.
“I looked through your phone. While you were gone. I – I went upstairs, ‘n I took it.”
He says it casually, as though he’s simply checked the newspaper. As though he’s just relaying the columns to you. Someone’s had a baby. Someone else won three grand on a scratch card. By the way, I know you’ve been messing around with Joel.
So it takes a minute for what he’s said to hit you. But when it does, the wave crashes over your shoulders so violently that it throws you to your feet, tasseled pillow whipped to the other side of the couch.
There are tears searing across your eyes. A twisted grimace of a smile on your face, a laugh breaking roughly from your throat. Some crazed, disbelieving, ugly little laugh.
“You – you checked my…my fuckin’ phone. You – you fucking –”
His head jerks back, offended. “Hey, now, listen to me –”
“I’m not listenin’ to another word! Am I twelve?”
You stalk over to the kitchen. The rattle of your dad’s chair tells you he follows.
“Well – you tell me, hon, ‘cause right now, you’re making a lot of real stupid decisions.”
That same ugly laugh echoes around the house. You grip onto the kitchen island. The room starts to wheel.
“Who the hell are you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do?” you pant, eyes tight shut. Your thumbs begin to slip, sweat gliding between your skin and the counter.
“I’m your father! I’m lookin’ out for you, damnit! You think I wanna be havin’ this conversation with you right now?”
The granite countertop blurs in and out of focus when you open your eyes. You hook onto it, using it to haul yourself around the island until there’s distance between your wobbly figure and his. And you remember one week ago, when the same counter separated you and Joel, and you think of Joel, and think of his fingers around your wrist, and his fist against Knox’s jaw, and his teeth in your neck.
“Look,” your dad’s voice floats somewhere over the image of Joel’s eyes, “let’s just – let’s calm down. You ‘n me – we’re gonna talk this out. We’re gonna have a calm, mature discussion about all of this. You’re gonna tell me exactly what’s been goin’ on, and then I’m gonna head over to Joel’s – alone – and talk to him.”
But his voice doesn’t sound calm. There’s a tremble to it – a tremor as fragile as glass, as thin as ice. It’s crackling as he speaks. He can hardly keep a hold on it himself.
If he goes over to Joel’s – this you know – there ain’t anything calm or mature that will come of it. Suddenly the images in your head warp, and it’s your fingers around Joel’s wrist, someone else’s fist against his cheek, someone else’s teeth and the venom spat between them.
“Dad,” you pant, “it’s over. He ended it. It’s been done for, like, two weeks now. It was nothing.”
“Oh, nothing, was it?” He steps closer. You retreat. Edge further around the counter, further from him. His head tilts, eyebrows curl. He looks like a vulture, eyeing its prey. “Then what were the two of you up to last night?”
“We – we went for ice cream, that’s all. He wanted to make sure I was alright.”
He’s not convinced. And he shouldn’t be, either. He coughs a laugh. “For three hours? You were eatin’ ice cream for three Goddamn hours?” His cheeks wobble as he shakes his head. Then, in a softer voice, like he’s arming himself with a chisel to prick at the weakest parts of the sculpture, “What’d he do to you, girl?”
The marble cracks and snaps wide open. Anger floods out in hot waves. Any composure you’d managed to scrape together flushes clean out of your body.
“Nothing I didn’t want him to fuckin’ do. Stop treating me like I’m some kid who’s – who’s been tricked, or something. I’m twenty-three, Dad, I’m an adult.”
His silence sends another misdirected shot of panic through you.
“I was in on it just as much as he was,” you weep, fingers searching for a scratch of beard or kiss of flannel.
Your dad scoffs then, hands slapping against his thighs, and turns away. “There ain’t no gettin’ through to you,” he announces to the timid living room.
Still bracing yourself against the island, you take the break in his tirade to catch your breath. The only thought running through your head, losing velocity with each circuit, is Joel walking through that door. His face when he notices you with your flushed cheeks and wide eyes. His hands reaching for yours, through all the lies and hurt. Your dad, stood opposite, tight as an arrow and ready to fucking fly for him. Fists balled, teeth bared.
“He doesn’t even know,” you realize, staring at the glow on the floor cast by the front door. “You haven’t told him you know, have you?”
“’course I ain’t told him. I wanted to talk to you first. Not that it’s gotten us anywhere, huh?”
“I’m gonna text him.”
“Hon, don’t you d–”
“I am not having this conversation on my own. There are two people involved here.”
You pull your phone from your pocket and scrawl some messy message to Joel. Three messy messages. Something like he knows everything, can you come over? I need you. Some needy, dramatic, helpless message.
The typing bubble appears for a fraction of a second. So fleeting that you almost miss it through your tears, before it drops back to nothing. He doesn’t reply.
Doesn’t pick up, either, when you call him. Three times in a row. Three missed calls; three Hey, it’s Joel, sorry I missed yous.
The phone rattles off the counter when you drop it, your head falling into your hands. Your dad wanders back over to his armchair and collapses into it with a sigh, his fingers massaging his temples. The two of you mirrored, the same storm circling between you, only ice in his veins and fire in yours.
Fear keeps your feet planted to the kitchen floor; adrenaline alone keeps you upright. Your fingers push hard into your forehead, an ache sat directly behind that dizzies you. Blood thudding its fists against your eyes, screaming in your ears.
How the fuck did this happen? It feels ridiculous to ask, but it’s all you got. When did the two of you get so lazy? Start forgetting to cover your tracks? Or – maybe worse – stop caring enough to even try?
Of course, saying you were with Anna was a dumb fucking move. Her dad is one of your dad’s buddies. One of Joel’s, too. That was always going to fuck it all up. And you were too caught up, too hellbent on seeing Joel, too fucking horny to stop for five seconds and keep your damn story straight.
There’s nothing to say, nothing that might fix this. There’s no winding your way out of it. The trap has you by the throat. Your jaw aches from trying to free yourself.
Your dad sways side to side in his chair, staring silently at the wall ahead of him. Your face burns with shame, with anger, with embarrassment. Your heart stings from the hurt, from wanting Joel here, from his ignoring your pleas for help. And, most annoying of all – from letting your dad down.
It doesn’t matter what you tell yourself. How you spin it. Sure, you’re twenty-three. You can make your own decisions. That much is fucking clear now. Doesn’t mean they’re always good. Even when they make you laugh until your cheeks hurt, make your stomach flip with excitement, make you scream from pleasure.
Make your heart do things you’ve never felt it do before. Things you never knew that it could do.
You let your dad down. He can barely look at you for it. You know damn well that it was worth every second, and yet, right now, nothing but thick, awkward, unbreathable air between the two of you – it feels like it should never have happened.
You’re bent over the counter, head resting on your folded arms, breathing still staggered – when you hear it. The squeal of brakes outside. An engine cutting. A door slamming.
Two knocks on the door, and Joel pushes it open. You’re already in the hallway, watching his heavy head and loose shirt cross the threshold.
He looks up and your eyes meet. His hair’s a mess, he’s in the same tee from last night. He’s gotten straight out of bed and into his truck, and he’s braced, like he doesn’t know what’s coming. Which direction to expect the first punch from.
Your knees weaken at the sight of him. The safe haven of his arms, the home of his chest. The beating pulse behind it whose language you’ve become fluent in. Even now, when everything’s fallen apart, his being here washes relief over you like cool water dousing an inferno. Your body relaxes, your breathing quietens.
Joel nods towards you. You okay?
You shake your head lightly, and he flicks his fingers. You’re in his arms before your brain tells your limbs to move.
“’s okay,” he breathes, lips lined with your ear. His chest is soft, warm; you take fistfuls of his shirt. He strokes your hair, mumbling, “Told you we’ll be alright, yeah? It’s goin’ to be alright.”
You weep into him, lips dripping with salty tears. They part to reply, when a low growl rips between your bodies. Joel loosens his grip and you step back, turning around to face the ghost of your father at the end of the hall.
“Get the hell away from him.”
He advances, takes a few steps forward. You meet him halfway, gripping onto his shirt, planting yourself firmly between him and Joel.
“Woah, woah,” you say, pushing on his small chest, “let’s all just calm down. Dad.”
He’s smaller, scrawnier, older, and weaker than Joel. He’s never going to lift a fucking hand to him. Not if he wants to keep it intact. He wouldn’t square up to a fly, never mind an actual worthy opponent – but your gut tells you to make damn sure he doesn’t even try.
“Get out of the way, hon.”
“No. No way. And let you –? No.”
He’s not even looking at you. You’re nothing but an obstacle. He’s staring a few feet behind.
“Baby,” Joel says, voice weary and surrendered. “It’s alright, now. C’mon, outta the way.”
“Baby?” your dad seethes. “You just call my daughter baby?”
“Called me it as long as he’s known me, Dad.”
“’s different now,” he spits. “What the f–? I mean, what the fuck, Joel? What were you even thinkin’? Putting your Goddamn hands on my daughter?”
You don’t usually hear your dad curse. All through growing up, even when you left home – you could count on one hand the number of times you’ve heard it. It sends a bolt of fear through you as if you’re five years old again, and he can’t do much worse than say bad words in front of you.
You don’t usually see your dad do any of this stuff. Raise his voice, ball his fists. Lean forward, feet planted on the ground, like daring Joel to make the first move. Joel – his best friend. The guy he was supposed to be able to trust more than anyone in the world.
Angry. Furious. And you think: if there were a time he had a right to feel this way, to act like this and throw threats around as though they’re light as air, if ever there were a moment – this would be it. A betrayal. A secret this big.
Joel takes a step forward. He doesn’t seem scared. More – placating. Letting the tantrum run its course. He holds his hands out. “Let’s just – let’s just talk.”
“Talk,” your dad repeats, spitting the word like it’s rotten in his mouth. “You wanna talk? Let’s talk. What the hell have you been doin’ to her? Hm?”
Joel shakes his head, shoulders lifting. “I ain’t been doin’ nothin’ to her. That’s not what this is.”
“Hell,” your dad scoffs, “not what it is. Why don’t you explain to me exactly what it is, then, Joel? If it ain’t you takin’ advantage of a young girl? Takin’ advantage of my kid?”
Your head whips back to face Joel, hand lifting in a bracing motion. He sees it – sees the way your head shakes, imperceptible to your dad. Please don’t tell him. Not yet.
It’s bad enough that he knows you’ve been messing around. It hurts enough that he knows you’ve been lying for the entire summer. Telling him the full story – the conversation in the truck, the words exchanged over ice cream and the quiet tick of traffic lights across the street – would only hurt more. Would only sharpen his anger. He’d ask more questions; he’d drive his dagger deeper.
Joel pleads with you. His eyes do his bargaining. You don’t relent. Please.
“You know what I keep thinkin’ about,” your dad interrupts, “you know what’s runnin’ through my mind? That damn garden party. Those cupcakes. You puttin’ your thumb on her lip. I should’ve known the second you touched her what was happening. You arrogant, shameless son of a bitch, Joel, you got no idea what you –”
“Dad. Enough.”
Sure, you’re trying to calm him down, palms outstretched and motioning like he’s a wild horse, rearing frantically and threatening to crush you. But it also stings to hear him talking about Joel like that. Talking to him like that.
The same Joel he’d sling an arm around, knocking their beers together when the Rangers won. The same Joel you know he’d spent hours sat out back with, talking into the night and sharing stories and secrets with the stars.
The same Joel who covered your legs with his jacket last night, who held you when you were hurting, who reminded you what it was like to feel your heart again, beating rapidly in your chest.
He’s not talking about the same Joel. Not the Joel you know. Yours.
He’s still rambling. “…’n all this time, you pair have been closer ‘n you were lettin’ on.”
“You don’t understand,” you plead, “you don’t know him like I do.”
Your dad scoffs, twisted smirk on his face. “Oh, I know ‘im. I’ve known him a hell of a lot longer and a hell of a lot better ‘n you have, hon. Known him since he was fifteen, askin’ me ‘n my buddies to buy ‘im a case of beer from the liquor store. His little brother in ‘n outta jail like God only knows what. I know exactly what he’s like.”
“What he’s like?” you huff, exasperated. You spin on your heel, arms coming down on your sides with a slap. “Joel, help me.”
“Don’t you dare look at ‘im! Listen, kiddo, I know him. Know what he’s like at Frank’s, takin’ women home left ‘n right, then forgetting their damn names. Know he sure as hell can’t remember that schoolteacher’s name, can you, Joel? You remember her?”
“Quit it,” you tell him over your shoulder, still facing Joel.
Your dad laughs from behind you. It turns your stomach. “I’ll bet he never told you about that one, did he? That’d turn you off ‘im in a heartbeat, wouldn’t it?”
“Nah, he told me about Jess.”
Your dad’s voice cuts. Joel’s head finally lifts, his eyes ungluing from the floor to look at you.
You shrug back. “I figured it out. Sister’s name is Mia – she’s a year younger ‘n me.”
You swear he almost fucking smiles. Almost. It’s funny, or at least, it would be if you weren’t both in the middle of tearing your entire dynamic apart. Any other time, he’d nudge you, or tousle your hair, and say you were too clever for him, or something about being old again.
When you turn back to face your dad, he looks like he’s run out of words. So, he repeats ones he’s already said.
“I…Well, I know him, honey. And he ain’t someone you oughta be with.”
“How’d you figure that?”
He sighs. “I just told you my reasons.”
“’cause he wanted beer when he was a kid and he’s slept with people before? ‘cause Tommy gets himself into trouble – trouble that Joel then gets him out of?”
“No, I –”
“You don’t know a damn thing about any of this. You won’t listen to me. If you’d hear me out – hear us out, then you’d –”
“Don’t you dare tell me I’d change my damn mind. Don’t – you – dare.” Your dad’s voice is quiet and slow. Dangerous. Laced with something you’ve never heard in it before. It’s not worth finding out what.
Your head shakes, knee jerking with nerves. “I don’t…I don’t know what else to say.”
The fire flickers, loses light for a second. His voice softens. “Honey…This –” he waggles his finger between your body and Joel’s, “this thing y’all have been…It ain’t right. It is not right, what y’all have been doin’. You are far too young for him. He should know better, and the fact that he doesn’t – well.”
Your brows tighten, eyes pinching around painful tears. “I know why you’re mad. I get it. I’m sorry. But I can’t –” You sigh. “You are suffocatin’ me, living here.”
His façade drops instantly. He pushes his fingers into his eyes, groaning. “Hon, you’re not hearin’ me.”
“I hear you loud and clear, I –”
He cuts you off, throwing his arms up into the air with another loud yell. The words melt into one long drone, a mountainous ramble which peaks and falls in pitch; one minute low and angry and the next high and frantic.
You sigh, shoving by him for the living room. Joel reaches for your hand, your fingers brushing against his.
“Baby,” he says.
“Ah!” Your dad blocks his advance, shaky finger held to his chest. “You dare, son.”
You’re swipe the bag from the floor by your dad’s chair, your change of clothes still in a crumpled heap at the bottom. Slinging it over your shoulder, you whip past your father and lock your hand with Joel’s.
“Hey,” Joel says, slowing you down. “Darlin’, where are you –?”
“I wanna leave.”
“Huh?” he asks, brows raised.
“I want to go,” you whisper.
He glances over to your dad, dumbfounded by the stairs. “Where d’you wanna go?”
Your shoulders roll. Anywhere. Just take me away.
He doesn’t hesitate; barely thinks it over. He tightens his grip on your hand and pulls you toward him. Your feet stumble over the carpet.
“Where in the hell –?” Your dad’s snarling picks up again, his final chance. “I don’t think so –”
Joel’s backing up towards the front door, led by the pull of your hand. “Emotions are pretty high,” he announces, “why don’t we have this conversation once everybody’s calmed down?”
“Joel, if you take her, I’ll–”
“I ain’t takin’ her anywhere. She’s an adult.”
Liar. His hand wouldn’t let go of yours if you tried to pry it from his clutches.
“I’m leavin’,” he says, “she’s just coming with me.”
Your dad barks your name, and you freeze. Joel stops, too, allows you the time to turn. Like a deer in the headlights.
“I’m going, Dad,” you shakily tell him.
“I swear to God,” he says, “if y’all walk outta that door…”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean for any of this.”
He shakes his head. “Stay, hon. Let’s talk.”
“You’re not talkin’, though. All you wanna do is argue. I wanna go with Joel.”
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere with no one! ‘specially not him!”
You shrug, give your head a solemn shake. “Stop me.”
Joel hears the exhaustion in your voice, the scratch of your throat. The way the words melt into one another. He tugs on your hand, leading you through the front door. Your dad doesn’t speak again, and you don’t turn back to check on him.
The neighborhood is silent in the early morning. Yards empty, curtains still closed. No one, not even the sun, tucked behind a thin veil of cloud, sees when you pile into the front seat of Joel’s truck.
“Baby,” he says, pulling your seatbelt over your body.
Your eyes fix on the asphalt ahead. “Just drive.”
“Hey. Look at me.”
When you turn to him, he takes your jaw in both hands. “I love you,” he says.
“Still?” you squeak, eyes heavy with sleeplessness and tears.
“More.”
“This is fucking insane, Joel.”
He nods. “Yeah. ‘n you’re worth all of it.”
“Hey,” Sarah calls when the two of you spill in through the front door. She’s on the couch, Switch console in hand. “What’s up?”
“We have a – a lodger, for the next…little while,” Joel grumbles, tossing his keys onto the sideboard. He kicks off his boots and slides them to the wall, straightens up and looks to you.
You follow suit wordlessly, slipping out of your sneakers. Joel places them by his.
“Cool,” Sarah says, standing up. “How come?”
“Just – dad trouble,” you whisper, deflated. She’s wandering around the couch. A defeated sound rings from the console hanging from her thumb.
Her head tilts. “I…I got plenty room for you,” she flashes you a warm grin, “it can be like a big-ass sleepover.”
You return her smile, a slow, grateful breath filling your lungs. Joel’s arm wraps over your shoulder as your mouth opens to answer.
“No, uh…” He clears his throat. “She’ll be in my room. With me.”
Sarah’s expression is blank. She blinks between the two of you, arms limp either side of her hips. Your eyes flit from Joel to her and back again, wide, waiting. Waiting for someone to move, or speak, or yell.
Joel looks indifferent. Unbothered. As if he just told her it’s sunny outside.
She takes a step forward, and by instinct, you draw back. “Sarah…” you mutter, and she swings around the newel post. She dodges your outstretched hand, whether accidental or deliberate – you’re not sure.
“No, it’s…Okay. Yeah. I’ll – I gotta…Yeah.”
You watch as she climbs the stairs backwards, still looking from your pleading face to her dad’s stoic. She shrugs, wiggles the Switch and mumbles something about it needing charged, before she’s spinning and taking the last few steps two at a time.
When her bedroom door closes, you slump back. Joel doesn’t let go of your shoulder, catching you and pulling you into his chest.
“Fuck,” you whisper, lips pressed against his tee. He smells like pine, like mint, like you.
“’s okay,” he says into your hair, hand curving the shape of your skull. “She’ll come around. You know Sarah.”
You turn, ear against his chest, listening for his heartbeat. It doesn’t tell you anything new. You miss the days you used to listen for secret messages in the soft rhythm.
Joel’s chin rests on the crown of your head. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “None of this is your fault, you hear? None of it.”
“Now you’re just lyin’ to me. You know that ain’t true.”
A hum rumbles against your cheek like the earth readjusting, rearranging beneath your feet. You lift your head, loosen your grip around his waist.
“You need sleep,” he tells you, thumb swiping gently beneath your heavy eyes.
You don’t protest.
Joel takes your hand, leads you mutely upstairs and into his room. His bed’s not made. The shades aren’t even open. He lifts the sea of sheets, tosses them twice in the air and then pulls the corner back, letting you sit on the edge of the mattress.
He undresses you carefully, like your limbs might crack and burst at the slightest touch. He replaces your hoodie with a fresh tee of his own, one that still smells like the world before its end, and you lay back into bed slowly.
It’s shaped like you – the divot in the mattress. You slot back into it like you never left. The curl of your back and the fold of your knees. You’ve left little pieces of evidence all over the place – all over Joel.
He runs a delicate hand across your head, the repetitive movement lulling you off to sleep. Pushing the boat out.
“You need anythin’?” he asks.
You shake your head, arms wrapping tight underneath your pillow. “I’m good,” you whisper, and the waves pull you under.
His bedside lamp is on when you stir, the left half of the room a glowing honey color. His bare leg slotted between yours, your hands intertwined on his chest. His finger drifts back and forth against your palm, the strokes matching your breathing.
You’re still tired, eyes still rolling beneath heavy lids, but when some commentator screams at the game playing on the TV screen, you snap awake.
Joel curses under his breath, begins tearing the bed apart for the remote – but by the time he turns the volume down, your head is propped against his pillow, knuckles rubbing your eyes.
“Sorry, baby,” he sighs, kissing your forehead as he sits on the edge of the bed.
“’s okay.” You flash him a lazy smile. “What time is it?”
“Almost five thirty.”
“Damn,” you mutter. “Slept all fucking day.”
“You needed it,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “You want some dinner? Or – breakfast?”
You nod. “Sounds good.”
He disappears downstairs. The echoing of pots and pans and the hum of the extraction fan follow in his wake. You groan, stretching out like a starfish across the messy bed, forgetting for just a moment why you’re here, and what’s happened, and how different everything is.
It feels the same, even after eight hours sleep. Same guilt, and shame. Same anger and resentment towards your dad. Same punch to your gut anytime you picture his face, the wrinkled frown. The trembling fist holding your bag in midair.
The blow is soothed only by the swelling of warmth across your chest, looking around the room. The safety you feel here, as though you’re cut off from the rest of the world. Your father on pause the second you left the house; Joel’s room and his bed giving you time to catch your breath and recalibrate.
You’re not thinking about when you’ll have to go back home. You’re just not.
You knot your shorts back around your waist, take one huge swig of the water Joel left for you, and open his bedroom door, your head throbbing with each movement.
There’s a figure at the end of the hall, frozen in space like a phantom.
“Morning,” she says. Her hair is tied back, oversized hoodie over her shoulders.
“Hi.”
“You sleep good?”
“Must’ve. Missed half the day.”
Sarah smiles.
“Are you gonna kill me?”
“Hm,” her head tips back and forth, “not today. Don’t have the energy. Watch your back tomorrow, though.”
For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, a genuine laugh pushes its way past your lips. The knot in your stomach loosens, even if only a little.
“You wanna come help with dinner?” she asks, nodding to the stairs.
You smile. “Please.”
The three of you settle on pasta with some tomato sauce from a jar mixed through. You sit opposite Sarah as Joel sets the plates down, sliding into the seat next to yours with a gentle squeeze on your knee under the table.
The three of you talk. About nothing in particular – college, Rita and her cross stitch, some client of Joel’s whose wife got caught having an affair – but it soothes the ache in your heart. It feels like a blanket over your shoulders, a spot by the fire, a voice in your ear promising you that things are still okay. That they can still be this way: light, alive. The earth is still moving, the stars are still pinned up in the sky. Tomorrow will always come, and the day after that.
Sarah asks about LA. You tell her you didn’t know she knew. She grins and says, “Well, now that I do – you better put an application in.”
You hum around the fork between you lips. “Maybe.”
“Come on. The two of us out there together? For six whole months? You gotta do it. Tell me you don’t wanna do it. Are you gonna do it?”
Joel casts her a glower, his stony expression pushing her back in her chair.
Your eyes shift from hers over to his. He runs a slice of garlic bread around the curve of his plate, coating it in sauce, before he notices you staring. His face breaks into a tiny smirk.
“I don’t know,” you decide, turning back to Sarah. “I still gotta think it through.”
She nods earnestly. “Yeah, you should sleep on it. And then, first thing tomorrow, we’re doing it.”
The two of you let her have the final say, falling quiet until some new conversation is shifted onto the table, and then another, and then another. When you’re done eating, Sarah takes your hand and drags you back upstairs.
Sarah Miller’s bedroom has been baby pink for as long as you can remember. Joel painted it one summer while she was at camp, eliciting help from your dad to shift all the furniture. As she grew up, she covered the walls in posters, changed the sheets, changed the curtains, strung fairy lights to distract from what she saw as a kiddish color.
But she never asked to change it. Always wanted the same blushing pink her dad had picked out when she was ten – even if secretly.
Her blinds are tilted, golden light from the slowly lowering sun filtering through onto her carpet, stained with tiny dabs of nail polish. She throws herself down onto the bed, her curls igniting brown in the summer light, and you slowly sink down beside her.
“Nice Zayn poster,” you note, pointing to the straight-browed, dark-haired figure painted in a moody grayscale on her ceiling. “Interesting placement.”
“Was so I could dream about him every night.”
“You didn’t wanna take him to California?”
“Didn’t have to,” Sarah smiles, tapping her temple, “he’s all up here, baby.”
You snort. Your eyes flutter closed; hands clasped on your stomach. She sighs contentedly by your side, listening to the chatter of birds out front.
“I miss this,” she says eventually, her voice smooth and soothing. She elbows you lightly.
“Me too,” you reply. And then, with a deep breath: “Sarah…are you okay?”
When she turns back, the sunlight catches in her eyes. They twinkle, like she’s some doe-eyed Disney character. Someone who might be able to wiggle her fingers and make the last day disappear.
“Am I okay?”
“Yeah. With…everything.”
She shrugs, mumbles an I dunno. “What can I do about it? It’s weird, but…it’s none of my business. I guess…I guess if y’all are happy, then – you know. I’m gone half the time, anyways.”
“It is your business, too, though,” you tell her. “I don’t wanna make you feel weird.”
“I think you got bigger things to worry about right now. Sounds like your dad’s pretty mad.”
You sigh, looking back up to the boyband poster. “Yeah. He’s pretty mad.”
“My dad told me what happened. Well, parts. I can kinda guess the rest. Can’t really blame him, I guess.”
You shrug. “Guess not, but then…I am twenty-three, y’know? I’m not a kid. I can make my own mind up.”
She’s still staring at you, but you don’t return her glance. Something tells you that you already know what it says. Still, she verbalizes it.
“Would you be okay if I slept with your dad?”
That is so not what I thought you were gonna fuckin’ say.
You shoot her a look. “What?”
“’m askin’. Would you be okay with it, if I –”
You lift your hand to shut her up. “That is…so totally different.”
“How is that different?” she scoffs.
“Because…because…my dad’s not hot.”
Sarah gags.
“And – and also you’re not friends with him. It’s just different, alright?”
“You were friends with my dad?”
You’re laughing with her now. You can hear how pathetic your justification sounds. “Kinda, yeah. I was close to ‘im.”
“Yeah, that much is obvious, now, babe.”
You smack her arm and she giggles.
“I think he’ll come around. Your dad.”
“I don’t. Not ever.”
“Why wouldn’t he? His best friend would become his son-in-law, I would become his granddaughter-in-law –” She gasps and props herself up on her elbow, staring you down. “Does this make you, like, my stepmom?”
You spit out a laugh, and Sarah throws her head back against her pillow, clutching her belly.
“You’re my fuckin’ mom, dude!”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” you reply, covering your face with your hands. “Aw, fuck,” you breathe, giggling.
You settle back into the bed, your heads leaning against one another as you stare up at Zayn and his audience of glow-in-the-dark stars. Sarah hums something softly to herself, her ankle rocking, her fingers tapping.
The two of you were raised together. Sisters, when neither of you knew what that word really meant. You figure she’s as close as you could find – someone who reflects all of your favorite parts of yourself and who calls out the uglier ones without hesitation. Someone who comforts you with a punch to the arm, a mocking quip about your hair or the something in your teeth. A safe little secret keeper, for all of your wildest dreams and biggest fears.
“I guess this is all why you were so down in the dumps last night, right? Your dad knew then?”
You shake your head. “Not at that point. He found out after we all left. Realized it all on his own. It’s all just…so fucking stupid…”
She sighs. “My dad – if he…if he makes you happy, then I don’t even know. As long as I don’t have to see it – we’re cool.”
One cinderblock of weight lifts from your chest, allowing a rugged breath to escape. “Wish my dad would take a leaf outta your book,” you mumble.
“He’s just mad,” Sarah says. “He’s just mad, and he’ll eventually calm down.”
“Doesn’t matter even if he does calm down,” you reply. “My dad has more of a…restrictive parenting approach.”
“Can you really parent a twenty-three-year-old?”
“He finds a way to try.”
She scoffs, saying, “I get it. My dad’s more, try it ‘n see. Your dad is, like, try it ‘n see…what your punishment is.”
You both erupt into laughter, and Sarah reaches for the TV remote.
“Exactly,” you tell her, tugging on the hem of Joel’s shirt. “Although, if your dad found out you were with my dad, I don’t think he’d be cool with it, either.”
“Yeah,” she smirks, flicking through Netflix titles, “y’all got what you deserved.”
The sound of Sarah’s bedroom door closing over stirs you. Her room is the color of rust; the stream of amber sunlight on the carpet replaced by that of the streetlights. Beneath the door, the sliver of light is shifted by the sway of a silhouette walking off down the hall.
Sarah’s snoring quietly beside you, still in her jeans. Keeping an eye on her, you roll off the bed and creep towards the door, a slow groan coming from the handle as you twist it. Joel’s at the opposite end of the hall, disappearing into his room as you shut Sarah back into her warm slumber.
“Thought you were sleepin’,” he whispers when you slip into his room. He’s already sat in bed, leant against the headboard. The room a thick darkness, a black cloud of dusk spiraling around you and cutting you off from the rest of the world.
“Heard you come in.” You wander over, pausing at the side of the bed. “Wanna stay with you.”
“C’mere,” he says, holding a hand out. You take it, pulling yourself into his lap. He slips his hands under the hem of your shorts, fingertips brushing the crests of your hipbones. “You okay?” he asks, thumbs swiping gently on the seam of your thigh.
“Never better. You?”
He sighs in response and looks off to the window, the light catching his eye. You tilt your head and bend forward, kissing below his ear. He smells like whiskey. You breathe it in, inhaling like the sharp scent might fold you under a numb blanket of inebriation, too.
Joel takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you from his neck, watching the shift in your expression before he kisses you – steady, bracing. The first time since everything went so wrong.
For a few minutes you pretend nothing has changed – you’re still sneaking around, shushing one another; someone’s in the next room, there are still secrets to be kept. You slip your shorts down your legs, kicking them over the side of the bed; Joel’s sweatpants follow soon after. His hands surrender and you push up on his chest, dragging your core against his stubborn crotch, lips never losing contact. Tongues rolling against one another, noses bumping; a tangle of breath between you until you’ve no idea which is yours and which is his.
It’s all you know how to do, after all. It’s how this started, it’s how it got out of control. The two of you taking out your needs on one another. Right now is no different. You need to feel something other than the dread in the pit of your stomach, the ache in your heart anytime you look at him and know he feels it, too.
You come up for air and suddenly the feeling dissipates; doubt sets back in and fear washes over you like ice water. Your hips cease, Joel’s hands lift from your body. He pushes the hair from your face to find his own expression mirrored in yours.
Everything has changed.
You watch his movements, the light trace of his finger on your bare skin, the pinch of fabric as he adjusts his boxers. The careful movements of his own hips, trying not to incite anything more.
“I love you,” you offer, when he doesn’t say anything. Whispered, like it’s a question, like something to dangle in front of him to make him bite.
At the very least, it unsticks his gaze from the cotton print over your chest and back up to your face – where he softens and says, “Oh, darlin’. I love you, too.”
He gives you a squeeze and pulls you by the shoulders closer, letting you feel his lips on yours again and again, until you’re out of breath. You nuzzle your head under his jaw, the rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart at your ear.
Joel trails his hands up and down your spine. He breaks the silence first – stammers his way through a question you’re not sure how to answer.
“Was I – was I hurtin’ you? All this time?”
You lift your head, looking blankly at him. “What –?”
“Was I hurting you?”
“Hurting me?”
He nods. “Everythin’ we were doin’. Everything we’ve done. You wanted me to be doing it, right?”
He looks…scared, as though forty years have been shaved from him over the course of one day. Eyes glassy like he might burst into tears; bottom lip almost trembling with uncertainty.
You sit up and cup his face; he breathes a sigh of relief when you look him dead in the eye and say, “I wanted you to be doing all of it.”
“All of it?” he repeats.
“Yes,” you nod, “nothing you ever did ever hurt me.”
He lowers his gaze. “’cept when I left.”
“You came back.”
His thumb curves beneath the slip of fabric on your hips, toying with the elastic. There’s more in his question, you know it. He’s not convinced by a word you say.
“It’s just…all such a fuckin’ mess,” he groans, fingertips massaging his forehead.
You hesitate, unwilling to agree and unable to disagree. It is a fucking mess – that much is true. But if that’s all it is, then why does your heart pause for breath whenever you see him? Why does the mere thought of his presence, the tiniest glimpse of him – why does it all send your stomach somersaulting?
How can something supposed to be so bad, make you feel so fucking good?
“It was wrong of me,” Joel says, “to flirt with you that night I first saw you again. To put you in that position. But I did, and we ended up here. And I’m glad we did, baby, you know I am, but…it’s on me. This thing with you ‘n your dad.”
“You don’t think he should back off a little? Don’t think he’s oversteppin’ a mark, even a tiny bit?”
He shakes his head. “I’d do the damn same, ‘n you know it. I shoulda known better. Shouldn’ta let it happen. You mean more to me than the world, and I – I caused all this hurt for you.”
Sure, it’s real noble of him to take all of the blame, but it wasn’t just him. You had a part in it, too: your batting eyelashes, your hands where they shouldn’t have been. Your jaw tightens when he says it, holding back from telling him you want as much responsibility in this as he’s taking, even if he won’t allow it.
But an argument with Joel, right off the back of one with your father, isn’t really something you need. It wouldn’t help anything. So, you swallow your words and whisper new ones.
“You shouldn’t have flirted with me?”
His eyebrows flick, concern knotting them together. He sits up, scooping you in his arms. “I meant I should’ve never let it get to this point.”
“’n what about the first time you touched me?”
The memory plays between you: the weight of him on your body, the sound of the stereo system firing up downstairs. One hand between your legs and the other pinching your heart.
The light in your eyes starts to bleed through your body into Joel’s, distorting the projected image of that scene in your bedroom. It ignites somewhere low, travelling upwards until his stare locks with yours: an understanding weaving between you both.
You lean back from him, drinking in the sight. “Nothin’ but trouble, right? That’s what you said, that first night. You knew damn well where it might go. ‘n you still wanted it, just as bad.”
“Darlin’, I’m not sayin’ I didn’t, I –”
“No, no, I get it. I get it.”
You push his shoulders to the mattress. Fire in your belly, some kind of twisted energy pumping through your veins, you grind down on him again.
That thing, about this being all you know how to do? About taking your needs out on each other?
Right now, you need distraction. You need something to tire you out, to drain you of energy, to stop your thoughts for five minutes. You need someone to hold you, and love you, and make you feel good. Joel’s the perfect distraction.
He’s still hard. You’re still wet. It’s easy.
You drag your hips lazily over his, cotton riding against lace. He’s growing harder, bigger; he’s pushing up into you. You respond by pushing down, and Joel groans.
“Hey,” he takes hold of your thighs, “baby, we don’t have to –”
“Then, let’s stop.”
He says nothing.
You reach down past the band of his boxers and take him in your hand. He bites back a moan, his head falling into the pillow. You’re stroking him: long, hard strokes, fist tightening around him, fingers dipping between your folds to apply your slick to his length.
“Say the word, Joel. We’ll stop,” you pant, unsure if even you buy the words you’re saying. “You said it: none of this should’ve ever happened. You should’ve never laid a finger on me.”
His arms lift, throbbing biceps curving around his pillow and crumpling it against his skull. He doesn’t tell you to stop, because he doesn’t fucking want you to. He needs this – needs you as much as you need him, needs you more than he needs the air in his lungs.
And you’re right: it is different now. Now, it’s out in the open. The whole world could know, for all the two of you care. And maybe that’s the kick to it, now. No more hiding. No more fleeing from shadow to shadow.
You tug his underwear down and lower yourself, dragging your folds up and down the width of him while sticky precome gathers at his tip, dappling the trail of hair from his navel. And when you can’t do it anymore, when the mere sight of him drenched in your arousal threatens to send you over the edge, you line him up to your entrance and sink down, slow.
He moans into the pillow, fabric muffling your favorite sound in the world. And he doesn’t stop, his chest doesn’t stop rumbling until you reach his hilt, where he gasps.
“Darlin’,” he whimpers, hands coming back down to hold you in place.
You bat them away. “Uh-uh,” you tut, pinning his wrists above his head. “Not a – fuckin’ – finger.”
Joel grits his teeth, eyes locking onto yours, directly above him as you slide up off his cock, hips circling as you do, and then back down. Your free hand curves around his ribcage, the solid flesh of his torso stabilizing you.
“Poor baby,” you coo, pouting your lip. “Can’t even touch me. Can’t put a hand on your girl when you need to most.”
“Fuckin’ – whore,” he grunts, and your hips grind to a halt. You release his wrists.
“That what you think of me?” you ask, sitting upright on his lap. Joel’s still buried deep inside you.
“No,” he’s breathing, lips curling, “no, baby. Keep goin’.”
“I’m not the one goin’ back on my word here.”
He flashes a thick, filthy smile. “I know, I know. Go on. Make me proud.”
You lean forward again and he sighs, the feel of your wet cunt wrapping like satin around him.
“You think he’d trust you, anyway, after everythin’?” you mewl. “Think he thinks I’m in a different room right now? Tucked up in bed, safe ‘n sound? Nah, baby, he knows. He knows what you’re doin’ right now. Keep your hands off me? You can’t keep your cock outta me.”
Joel moans in agreement, hands gripping into the sheets to ground himself, hips bucking up against yours. You place your hands either side of him on the mattress and start to bounce, skin slapping, bed shaking.
“You like that, huh?” you moan, feeling the sharp kiss of his head at your cervix. Nudging, nudging, nudging. Blunt pain, blissful pleasure. “Like me riding it. Takin’ what I – oh, fuck – what I need.”
He lets out a guttural moan, writhing around underneath you. It’s like he’s forgotten where he is, forgotten you guys aren’t alone in the house; drunk on the sight, smell, sound, and feel of you on him, not even trying to stifle his sounds anymore.
You close your eyes and hope Sarah doesn’t wake anytime soon.
You’re keeping the façade up for Joel, but on the inside, you feel the exact same. His words echo in your ears, shouldn’ta let it happen, and how quickly that melted into make me proud. Your head starts to swim, your eyes heavy, your body trembling.
The thatch of hair at the bottom of his cock brushes against your clit, a gasp drawing between your teeth. Pain begins to rip upwards on the inside of your thighs, forcing you forward.
“Joel,” you pant, leaning over him. “Fuck.”
“Gotta let me touch you, baby,” he whispers, hands lifting beneath the fabric of your shirt. His fingers ghost across the curve of your shoulders. “You need it, don’t you?”
You whimper in response and Joel slips past the moment of weakness, taking a strong grip of both shoulders and pulling himself upright on the mattress. The tee slips from your body in one breath, and his hands follow the incline of your neck to your jaw, holding you steady as he fucks up into you.
“You want me to fill you up?” he asks, leaning back with a palm flat on the bed behind to watch himself disappear between your legs.
You’re nodding desperately. “Mhm.”
“Gotta ask nicely, remember? Be a good girl for me?”
“Dick,” you hiss, draping your arms over his shoulders.
He pouts. Sweat gleams on his upper lip. His voice cracks, weakens like stone beginning to crumble. “’s not v-very n-ice, baby.”
“Comeinme,” you beg, your fingers swirling around the dark hair at the bottom of his skull. “Please, come in me.”
“Atta-girl,” he groans, and his hands instantly lock on your hips. You don’t stop him this time, letting him push you down as hard as he can onto his cock, coming as deep inside you as he can.
And then – that familiar feeling of being his. Filled with him, your eyes and your nose and your mouth and your cunt spilling with the sight, smell, taste and feel of him. He coats your walls, throbs deep inside you as he claims every tiny corner of your body.
He growls as his cock twitches, and you watch his expression go from determined, to blissful, to fucking exhausted when he stills and his head rolls forward into your chest. His breath hot and staggered between your breasts; light kisses peppered onto damp skin.
You watch him through a post-sex haze, the air between you thick and blurry, as he presses his lips into your chest. He sucks along the cushion of your breast until he reaches the nipple, lips cupping around it, tongue flicking with all the effort he has left in him.
When he lifts his head again, one final kiss to your sensitive flesh, you balance his chin under your thumbs.
“You come?” he asks, the words propelled by a heavy exhale.
You shake your head slowly. “I’m tired, anyway.”
“Alright,” Joel groans, flipping you over. He pushes your thighs apart, his spend leaking from your slit and running southwards.
“Joel,” you giggle, “c’mon, I’m tired. You don’t have to –”
He’s already pushing himself lower, whipping the dark cotton tee from his shoulders and brushing his naked chest over your stomach. You lower your arms to hook under his.
“Hey. Come here a sec.”
Joel blinks up at you. “What’s up?”
“Just – come here.”
He kneels back up to you, hovering over you with his hands under your shoulders. His limp cock lies against the inside of your thigh as he lowers his weight onto your hips. You tilt your head, mapping his face.
Your knuckle runs across his cheek, the jagged bristle of his beard on your warm skin. Like running your hand under water, unable to tell whether it’s scalding hot or freezing cold – there is no saying whether you’re so used to him now that the feel of him is unaffecting, or entirely all-consuming. There’s no middle ground. Not anymore.
“I know –” You sigh, your voice swollen with a soft cry. There’s no stopping the tears anymore. They just come. “I know you think you should’ve known better. But I am so fucking glad that you didn’t.”
It’s done nothing but pour all day. You woke up this morning to the rain battering against Joel’s window, your body hooked against his by his arm.
Day four. Still no call, no text, no nothing from your dad. You haven’t exactly returned the favor – the closest you dared was having Sarah drive you to your house while he was at work so you could dip into the hallway, grab your car keys, and drive straight back to Joel’s. You pulled up in his driveway alongside each other and she rolled her window down, checking your expression before snorting.
It’s like a damn Mission: Impossible film, she jested.
The pain feels blunter, more distant than it did on Saturday. Like your father has bowed his head, faded some into the dark background of upstage. You realize, a few days in – the movie nights and the meals homecooked by three chefs; the way Joel’s scent starts to become yours, his T-shirts hanging loose over your shoulders and his boxers snug against your hips – that you forget to check on the shadow of your dad. Forget the spot he once stood in, the thunderous cloud cast over his head. The same one that so regularly used to pour rain over you.
Sarah went out with her friends a few hours ago. She called to say she’d miss dinner, so you and Joel ordered Chinese. You’re sat with your legs in his lap picking away at some noodles, scrolling mindlessly on your phone while he catches up on some baseball highlights show.
“Fuckin’ – idiots,” he mumbles, fork angrily picking at rice.
Your eyes don’t lift from the Instagram caption you’re reading. “Fuckin’ idiots,” you flatly agree.
Joel’s head turns. “Alright, Miss Big Rangers Fan. I remember a time you pretended to be into ‘em to get my attention.” He attempts to grab your phone, and you swipe it from his grasp.
“Shut up,” you giggle, grabbing hold of your takeout box. “Joel – be careful!”
He snorts, settling back into the couch, changing the TV channel. You give his thigh a little kick, tugging your blanket up. As the TV switches from one showing to the next, your phone buzzes.
You glance down, chopsticks halfway to your mouth, and freeze.
Dear Candidate…
“Joel.”
“Hm?” he asks, eyes glued to the flickering screen.
“Joel.”
“Yes, darlin’?”
You unstick your stare from the phone, looking up to meet his perplexed expression. “They got back to me.”
He squints for a second before the remote is dropped to the cushion. “And?”
“I don’t know, I just saw the first line.”
“Open it, baby. C’mon. Whatever it is, you gotta know.”
“You know what,” you shrug, “I’m good. I don’t need to know. It’s all good.”
“Hey.” Joel snaps his fingers scooping your gaze from the floral, bohemian name on the header of the email and up to his own. “Open it, or I’m kickin’ you out.”
You mock gasp. “You’d put me out on the streets?”
“Worse. Put you back to your dad’s. Now open the email.”
Your thumb trembles as it hovers over the screen, one tap away from the biggest change in your life since you left for New York. Like it’s five years ago, and you’re sat in front of your laptop, psyching yourself up to open the response to your college application.
“Okay,” you breathe, slamming your thumb down. Joel leans in, staring at the screen from upside down.
It swipes across and your eyes flit down, focusing hard on the sentence beneath the opening line. You blink rapidly, waiting for the wash of tears to clear and dissolve it to Unfortunately, or After careful consideration, or We appreciate your interest.
But it never does.
Invite to interview stares back up at you, waiting for your face to break. Expectant, a little nervous. Jittering inside your shaking fist. Joel breaks first, when he spots it.
He almost throws his food onto the coffee table, taking your container from your hands and bundling you up in his. He pulls you into his body, presses heavy kisses to the crook of your neck as you laugh, your entire body quaking with joy and terror and relief and anxiety.
“What’d I tell you?” he says, kissing you roughly. “I knew it, babygirl. I knew you would – Fuck, I am so fucking proud of you.”
“It’s just –” sniff, “– it’s just an interview, remember. I might not get it, in the end.”
Joel shakes his head. “I don’t care. You’re a damn sight closer to gettin’ it than you were three days ago.”
You sit for probably twenty minutes, laughing and then weeping and then laughing again – until the food is cold, there’s a new episode of South Park rolling on TV, and Joel’s T-shirt is soaked with your tears.
“I gotta call Sarah,” you whisper, finger sifting through his hair. Your head buried in his neck, your knees either side of his hips.
“She’s going to lose her fuckin’ mind,” he mumbles into your shoulder, laughing to himself. “She’ll sit off-camera in the corner of the room, so they can’t see her, ‘n hold up cue cards.”
You giggle, letting it dissipate into something weaker, something unconvinced. In a small voice, you say, “We just got one step closer to being four states apart.”
He looks up at you, curving a hand around your jaw, and pulls your lips against his. It’s slow, tender – his every thought and feeling translated into physical movement, transformed into a spin of butterflies in your chest.
When you pull away from him, smiling dumbly, he clips your cheek. “That scare you?”
You hesitate, afraid to tell him the truth. But it’s Joel. He knows every thought that passes through your head. You nod, eyes filling with a salty sting.
“Why?” he asks.
You glance out to the street. “’cause I love you. I don’t wanna leave you.”
Joel nods. Considers it. Then says, “You know why it doesn’t scare me?”
You lift your eyebrows in response. Why?
“Because I love you. And we are gonna be just fine.”
And you believe him.
991 notes · View notes
liliansun · 1 year
Text
FREE TRIAL WEDDING STYLE | L. DONGHYUCK
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synopsis: when a random, cute, guy comes up to you and practically asks for you to follow along, you do so without much thought. that is until you get home and see he’s your new neighbor who just might need your help a little more than you expected.
pairing: fake-bf/new neighbor!haechan x oc
wc: 10.6k
genre: fluff, comedy, fake dating au, slice of life (?), wedding au
warnings: warnings, kissing, all that fun jazz (lmk if I miss any)
mentions of: 127, dream and wayv members, mention of aespa members
<3: special thanks to ash and briar for literally just beta reading anything I ask them to and for just being the best friends I ever could’ve asked for, they’re the real og besties and I love you guys sm 🫶
PART TWO: FIRST ANNIVERSARY
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Looking up at the boy in front of you who seemed desperate for you to follow along, you clear your throat as you shift your eyes to his friends. “Um, I thought I told you I was coming here on break.” Awkwardly trying to come up with the right words, the boy watches as you look panicked and takes the seat in front of you. “It must’ve not gone through, babe.” He said, reaching across the table to place his hand over yours. You glared at him, making him immediately retract his hand and laugh it off as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“We’re out Haechan, text us when you’re gonna meet up.” One of the guys from what you can only assume was his friend group said as he got up and gathered his belongings. “What- wait I still wanna come.” The boy, who you just learned is Haechan, whined as he immediately stood up from his seat when his friends made way for the door. “Dude you’re here with your girl, catch up later.” The boy with blue hair gave him a knowing look which caused the boy, Haechan, to pout. “Actually, I was about to go back to work anyway because- yeah, so um it’s nice seeing you, honey?”
Haechan can see how uncomfortable you are and simply nodded as you grabbed your belongings. He walked beside you, making your way to the door before you two part ways. To his surprise, you go off in the opposite direction than him and his friends, not saying another word about the shit show you had to endure.
After the awkward encounter back at the cafe, you went back to work and tried to pretend it never happened. Rubbing your eye with the palm of your hand, you don’t get a good look at whoever joined in the elevator when it stopped midway to your designated floor. Too caught up in the oddly comforting feeling of rubbing the stress and sleepiness from your eye, you lean back with both eyes closed. “Didn’t get enough sleep?” You recognize the voice, humming as you let out a yawn.
“Why didn’t you take a nap on break?” You roll your head toward the voice, opening your eyes to see Jaehyun giving you a knowing look. “I had lunch away from the office and I’m honestly starting to regret it.” The ding of the elevator signals you to get off on your floor. Jaehyun follows behind, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What happened, did you try some weird new restaurant again because if you spend the next 30 minutes away from the desk again I’m gonna shred your computer.”
You furrow your brows, whipping around on your heels to point a finger into his chest. “It’s not my fault, okay, last time I tried that cheap fusion food truck and it gave me food poisoning.” Shuttering, you try to block out the memory of the last time you went away from the office for lunch which cost you a bill from the hospital and toiletries to keep you at bay. “Plus this wasn’t anything that happened with the food, this guy..I don’t know it was weird and I just wanna forget about it.”
“Suit yourself, but don’t be calling for me when your stomach starts to churn.” He says, walking away from you to enter the main office area. You sigh, running your fingers through your hair as you slip between the crowded area till you get to your own desk. Plopping down in your seat, your eyes immediately look at the brightly colored sticky note left by your senior editor. Snatching it from the base of your computer, you groan while crumbling it in your hand. “Someone’s sour today I see.”
“Maybe if Kim Jungwoo didn’t leave cryptic messages at my desk when I’m not there instead of telling me when I’m actually in the office then I wouldn’t want to bash his pretty face in.” Karina smiles at you, leaning against your desk as she watches you throw away the note into a bin. “Do I even want to know what that was all about?” You roll your head towards her, shaking your head before refocusing on the emails you missed. “Gotcha, speaking of pretty faces, Jae told me you met a boy at lunch.”
“How did he tell you that when we literally just got in?”
“He has a big mouth for such a quiet man.” Nodding along, you start to click through emails, sorting through which ones are important and which ones can be pushed back till you get home. “So.”
“So?” Karina smiled at you, leaning towards you as she wiggled her finger. “Don’t play dumb y/n, tell me about the boy!” Rolling your eyes, you shrug her off and go back to what you were doing before. “Uh uh, don’t do that, tell me pretty please? I mean when’s the last time you had a boy to talk about since your douchebag of an ex.” Fighting back a frown, Karina notices how stiff you get and gently rubs your arm. “I’m sorry, I know it’s still fresh.”
With a heavy sigh, you turn your chair towards her. “That’s the thing, it’s been two years and I still can’t seem to get over him or even mention him.” She continues rubbing your arm, knowing all too well how messy your breakup with your ex was. “I really can’t say much about him though, the guy I mean.” She nods, letting you know she’s listening. “He’s cute, I’ll give him that, kinda baby faced in a mature way if that makes sense and he seems almost childlike with the guys he was with but in the moment he was more desperate than anything.”
She smiles, playing with the ends of your hair. “Sounds like you like him.” You give her a twisted look, shaking your head at the thoughts you could only imagine that were starting to play out in her head. “No, uh uh no ma’am, don’t give me that look I literally just met him.” She props herself up on your desk, swinging her legs as her smile widens at your sudden defensiveness on the subject. “Karina, I promise you, he literally came up to me and pretended like we were dating! What kind of guy does that?”
Raising her eyebrows, she leans back on her palms. “Only the desperate boys who wanna slip your skirt d-“ The sound of a loud clearing of the throat caught both of your attentions. Looking at who was standing in the entryway to your small desk space, you see a very unimpressed Taeyong. “I’m not gonna ask what you two are giggling about,” he throws his hands up, wiggling his fingers with one while the other shakes around a manila envelope in the other, “But this is for you sent directly from Doyoung.” With a fake smile, you take the envelope that he ever so kindly handed over, snickering as he left off back to whatever he had found before.
“I hate to see what you did in your past life, karma is a bitch to you.” When your face deadpans, Karina throws her head back in a fit of laughter. You slap at her legs with the envelope, whining as she finds humor in your torture. “I don’t get why Doyoung always sends me the most complicated stuff, like I’m not the only person on the floor.” Putting emphasis on his name, you make a mental note to not get such a nice gift like you do each year for Christmas exchange. And if you’re wondering, yes you do get him a separate gift every year because you simply can. I mean, who wouldn’t, it’s Doyoung.
“Maybe because you’re one of the best editors on the floor.” Smiling, you lean back in your chair while tossing the envelope beside your keyboard. “You always know what to say to me.” Hopping off your desk, Karina flattens out the front of her pants before placing both hands on her hips. “Yeah yeah, work your magic and I’ll see you later.” You wave her off, facing your laptop with no intent on working on the pile of stuff in front of you.
After many excruciating hours sitting in your chair, you read the time and quickly gather your things to head home. You catch a cab to your tiny apartment, dragging yourself up the stairs in hopes you’ll actually make it to your bed before the mental exhaustion takes its toll. Reaching the top of the stairs, you see the door across from yours wide open. “I guess they found someone to fill the room.” You mutter to yourself, slinging your purse over your arm that doesn’t seem to stop sliding down.
As you’re putting your keys into your door, you hear scuffling behind you. “Oh hey neighbor.” Turning around, you meet eyes with the person you literally thought you’d never see again. “Oh, it’s you.” Haechan seemed taken aback, offended to his core when he gasped as he held his chest. “Nice to see you again, too.” If this was your final straw, your 13th reason, you’d probably let the world swallow you hole right on your doorstep and not bat an eye, but knowing Jungwoo he’d still find a way to drag you back to work in the morning.
“Sorry, I’m just too tired and honestly don’t even want to have this conversation.”
“What conversation are we not having?” You can’t tell if he’s genuinely confused and doesn’t recognize you, which only hurts a little, or if he’s just that pretty and that dumb. Maybe a combination of both to soothe your ego a little. “Y’know what- never mind, goodnight, neighbor.” You finally turn the key, unlocking your door and slipping into your lonely apartment. Dropping the bag by the door, you toss your shoes off and convince yourself a hot shower would wash this day away.
And it does, for the most part. Maybe it’s because you shampooed your hair and you feel ten times more clean or maybe it’s because hot water seems to cure every bad mood you had before you got into the shower. Now, you’re hungry and all you want is something warm and to snuggle with your cat till your dreadful alarm takes you away from your sleep. You’re in the kitchen, drying your hair with a towel when you hear a knock at your door. And another and another.
Your only guess as to who it could be was Karina, maybe she and her boyfriend got into a fight again and she wanted to blow off some steam at your place. You go to open the door, being met with a very sheepish looking Haechan who can tell your mood dropped a little at his presence. “What.”
“Okay, firstly ouch, is that any way how you treat a neighbor? I mean I just moved in tod-“
“I’m giving you five more seconds to tell me what you want or I’m shutting the dam-“
“Okay okay fine, uh, can I maybe, possibly just sorta hang out?” Maybe Karina was right, maybe this was your punishment for whatever fucked up thing you did in your past life and now you have to endlessly suffer as if you’re made of steal. Well news flash universe, you’re not, now lay off. “You’re kidding, right?” When his eyes drop down to his hands that he was anxiously rubbing together, you let out a sigh before stepping aside.
He looked up, his eyes almost bright as he looks into yours. “Come in before I change my mind.” Once he stepped inside, you expected him to sit quietly on your couch and do whatever he thought he was gonna do when he got in, but you were far from that reality. The quiet, almost shy, boy who you just so happened to meet twice in one day completely came out of his shell and is now sitting across from you on your floor while sharing a separate bowl of soup.
“So why did you name your cat peanut?” The pet in question, or conversation, came from the hallway and walked around rubbing his body against various things in your living room. “Because my brother is allergic to peanuts and peanut hated him so it seemed fitting.” He smiles, content with your answer as she moves his spoon around in the bowl. “You’re a bad host, you know?” With a mouth full of soup, you chew the contents with furrowed brows. He came to your door, invaded your space, is eating your soup and dares to call you a bad host?
“Excuse me, but you’re the one who came up to me at the cafe and practically forced me into going along with your story!” He scoffs, setting his bowl down in his lap while pointing his spoon at you. “You’re the one who went along with it, look where that got you.” You narrow your eyes, trying to weigh your options on what’s the best way to commit homicide. “Wait-what—why are you even in here again?”
“Well, see now that’s a good question.” His sudden change in demeanor was weird. He suddenly seemed nervous, shifting in his spot as he avoided your gaze. “I actually, uh, have something to propose. Well, more like ask a question if you will, it’s really interchangeable honestly.”
He mirrors you, watching you with hopeful eyes as you start shaking your head. “Oh no, uh uh, don’t even say it.” He hurries behind you, pouting as he watches you set your near empty bowl in the sink. “I didn’t even say anything yet.” You turn around, holding your arms out to prevent him getting any closer. “No, but I know what you’re gonna ask and I’m not—no!” Haechan tries to speak, being interrupted when you shh him. You walk past him when he puts his bowl besides yours, speed walking down your hallway to your room.
“Y/n, don’t leave me in here alone.” God he sounded so whiny, it’s kinda cute if you’re honest, but that’s more of a random thought than a compliment for now. “Wait- how did you know my name?” Turning on your heel, the two of you stop midway in your hallway. “The landlord told me, he said if I ever needed anything to ask my neighbor and I currently am in need!” You turn back, trying to block him out as you enter your room and desperately climb into your bed.
Haechan stands at the entrance of your room, pouting when you reach for your laptop beside your bed. “Do you know how insane this is, I mean we just met today and then you just so happened to move in across from me and now you’re in my apartment, practically in my room,” you take in a deep breath, laughing it out as you open the device in your lap, “and I already feel like I know what you’re gonna ask me and it’s so fucking insane.”
Haechan doesn’t say anything, looking at you with an awkward smile. If you knew him, you’d think he was enjoying this, but that’s the thing is that you didn’t know him. “I know this is crazy and you might try to call the cops, but just hear me out.” You scrunch your nose, staring at him from across the room with crossed arms. “Remember the guys I was with earlier right, they’ve kinda been on me about being in a relationship and in a panic, I saw you and yeah the rest you pretty much know.”
“Do you know how pathetic that sounds, to use a random stranger as a decoy for your love, or lack of, life.” He looks taken aback, almost hurt at your brutal honesty and it leaves a slightly bad taste in your mouth. “Look, I’m sorry for that and almost as sorry as the situation your friends put you in.” He shrugs, running his hands through his hair as he opts to sit against your doorframe. There’s an uncomfortable silence that settles between the two of you, both not entirely sure what to say next and not sure on what to even begin to say to make it better.
You stare at the unopened files on your screen, mentally weighing your options and trying to decide whether to kick him out and potentially file a restraining order or to give him a chance, both seem like they’ll end up in flames honestly. “Look, I’ve seen way too many drama shows and I have a feeling on how this is supposed to go—it may be because I’m sleep deprived or how sad you’re looking right now, but I’ll think about it.”
His face lit up, hope filling his eyes with a certain kind of sparkle that made you feel worse if you’re being honest. “I knew it was a good decision to move here, I just knew it.” He mumbled to himself, smiling as he got up from your floor and brushed himself off. “I’ve got work to do, but we’ll talk tomorrow..I guess?” Nodding, Haechan gave you a salute which made you laugh before turning on his heels and disappearing into the darkness of your hallway. You let out a breath, a breath you didn’t know you were holding and lean against your pillows trying to figure out what you just signed up for.
Just as you start clicking on files, Haechan comes running back to your door. “You should probably lock the door.”
“Oh yeah, that’s a good idea.” Pushing your laptop aside, you get up from your bed and follow behind him.
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The days following your very awkward and yet unclear agreement, you would only see Haechan in the hallway when one of you was leaving as the other was just getting in. That talk you were supposed to have, yeah that never actually happened due to your sudden pileup of work that occupied your time. Just have you been all week, you were currently sitting on your couch with your laptop occupying the space on your lap as you wait for your takeout order. You’re about three-fourths of the way done with what you’re working on when you hear a knock at your door.
Setting the device aside, you get up and go to answer it with your wallet in hand. When you open the door, much to your surprise, you see a very awkward Haechan holding your bags of takeout. “You sure do order a lot of food for one person.” Raising one brow, you reflect the smile he was giving you. “And who said I didn’t have company over?” You step aside, letting him come in and he does just so. After making his way towards your couch, he sets the bags down on the table in the center. You stop to think as you close the door how comfortable he seems when he barely knows you and has only been in your apartment one other time.
“If you did, I probably would’ve heard because, you know, the whole being neighbors thing.”
“Oh so you’re stalking me now?” He rolls his eyes at your comment, plopping down at the end of your couch. “You wish you got that much attention, don’t you.” You grab the nearest thing, good thing for him that it was a pillow, and throw it across the couch—directly hitting him in the head.
“Now that’s enough for a restraining order!”
“Please, if you didn’t wanna be near me then why’d you come to my door?” Haechan got silent, looking down at his hands while you sat back in your spot and started unpacking the food. “That got real deep real fast.” The sound of his chuckle made you smile, making sure to lay out the food across the table for the both of you. Silently, he leaned forward and started to fill up his bowl with toppings of his choice. Both of you started munching down, occasionally setting your food aside to continue your work. “What are you working on?” He asked, leaning into your side to peak over your shoulder.
“Our contract for this unrequited love.”
“Haha, very funny.” Haechan’s sarcastic tone and expression to match made you snicker as you finished up on your report and sent it off to Jungwoo for review. “Just some final notes for an article.” He nods, seeming content with your answer. “That’s not a bad idea though.” When you turn towards him, confusion evident on your face, Haechan then elaborates. “I mean the contract or at least some rules to this,” he motioned his hand between the two of you, “because I can’t tell if you can tell, but I’m desperate as hell.”
“Brownie points for rhyming.”
If you could see whatever went through his head when you said that, you probably would’ve enjoyed it just as much as seeing him throw his head into his hands. “Okay, in all seriousness how are we supposed to do this—I mean we don’t know one another and I’m not very sure I can trust a guy who still plays Michael Jackson till three am.”
Throwing his hands up, Haechan looked both offended and taken aback by your sudden forwardness. ”Firstly, don’t talk about the king like that, he’s a classic and everyone should be blasting his music the way I do, secondly I get where you’re coming from.”
Over the next two hours, the two of you talked about yourselves to help one another get more of an insight of your personalities, laugh at poorly made jokes and eat your way through cheap takeout food. After all that, you two moved on to why he approached you and the reason behind his need for a girlfriend. “So you’re telling me that the tall one,”
“Johnny.”
“Right, Johnny, is getting married and he kept pressuring you get a date for the wedding and instead of telling him you didn’t have one you made up a girl who doesn’t exist and when the one with blue hair,”
“Mark.”
“Yes, Mark, pointed me out as your imaginary girlfriend, you had no other choice, but to approach me and hope I’d play along?”
Haechan took a deep breath, cringing at the way you broke down his story which honestly made it sound worse. “Yeah, pretty much and did I mention they went to meet you before the wedding?” Squinting your eyes, you stare at him with your mouth agape. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“If I was, would I seriously be sitting on your couch right now?”
He had a point, he could honestly be doing anything in the world, probably playing some video game, but like anything other than staring at you like you’re his only hope. “You’re lucky I didn’t call the cops on you or something like a, I dunno, normal person would have.” Haechan falls forward dramatically, grabbing both of your hands and squeezes them as he muffles what you assume is happy screams into your couch cushion.
The sudden move shouldn’t have made your heart jump a little, but it did and you’re not entirely sure why. For now, you’re blaming it on the fact that he’s insanely cute and the greasy food as you feeling a little beside yourself. “Your godsend, truly from heaven itself.” You pull your hands from his grasp, trying to hide the fact that your face feels like it’s on fire. “Yeah yeah, let me go before I reconsider this whole thing.”
“Let me at least take you on the first date before you try to back out—which by the way, will be next weekend at the actual wedding.”
You know that spit-take scene in movies where a person literally spits their drink everywhere because of the shocking news they just received, well that was you when he said that. Only this time it wasn’t in slow motion and wasn’t nearly as awesome, instead you choked halfway through spitting it out and it came back up and out your nose as you tried to save yourself from choking.
Haechan, disgusted you just spit all over him and also worried to see you nearly come to your end, gets up from the couch and searches your apartment for a towel to clean you and him up. When he comes back, you had slipped away to the bathroom to not only hide your embarrassment, but to clean yourself up and change your shirt. After what seemed like enough time to hope he had left, you went back into your living room to see Haechan sitting on the floor and using your couch as a back rest.
“Are you okay because that was—well that was tragic to put it kindly.”
“Can we not mention that, like ever for the rest of our lives would be good.” Sitting across from him, you fold your arms on top of the table, trying to avoid his gaze as you look anywhere but directly at him. He nods, understanding how overwhelmed you just be with all that he’s asking. You can tell by his stance how grateful he is for you and you use that to settle your nerves a bit. After all, maybe this would be a good thing. Maybe all of Karina’s talk about the universe and good karma might actually pull through.
“I’m sorry for roping you into all of this.” When you finally meet his eyes, you could see the sadness that lingered in them as he hung his head. “I don’t want you to think I do this for fun or I’m creepy or anything—I feel really bad for bringing you into something you didn’t ask for.”
Your chest felt heavy as you watched him slump against your couch. The last few interactions with Haechan made you feel like you’ve known him your entire life and seeing him so down had you feeling hurt.
“If you don’t want to do this, tell me please because I just- I don’t want you to go along with this because you feel bad for me.”
“I do feel bad for you, but that’s not why I’m doing this.” When he lifted his head, you could see the smile spread across his lips. “I see this as a an opportunity.”
“To what exactly?” When he leaned in, you did the same. He looked so familiar in this moment, so relaxed and almost kissable. But that’s the last thing you need to be thinking about when his face is damn near touching yours. “Two words: free food.” Watching Haechan gasp, you laugh as he raises his eyebrows at you. “Who said I’m going to pay for your food?”
Shrugging, you look down at your wrist and start to tap it with your finger. “Oh look at that, seems like you’ll have to find another girl who will help you, guess you might as well go ho-“
Haechan jumped up from his seat, moving around the table to grab your wrist. “No no, that’s okay—free food you said, that includes travel rights too?” You almost hate to say it, but this boy was making moves that damn near took your breath away. It sounds almost sad to be so swooned over a boy you hardly know, but there was something about him that just made you feel so at home. Maybe it was the way he laughs at every bad joke you tell or maybe it’s the way he’s way too touchy for your liking and yet you don’t seem to mind it.
Maybe it’s the way his lips are so plump and every time he pouts, you just wanna grab his face and kiss him till you’re out of breath. Maybe it’s the way his hand always feels warm to the touch and you could only imagine how you’d feel with his arms around you.
“Earth to y/n?” The snapping of Haechan’s fingers pulled you from your thoughts, blinking at him as if he was just apart of your imagination this whole time. “What’s going on up there that’s got you so spaced out?”
“Nothing, just thinking about what I’m gonna wear to the wedding.” Haechan looked at you a little longer, his eyes scanning your face to which you assume he’s trying to find something in your eyes. He seems to have bought it, backing away from you to create more personal space for you while he goes back to sit across from you. “Good point, we might just have to go shopping around this weekend to find a dress—oh and don’t forget one for the wedding so that makes two.”
“With what money, exactly? I mean I’m not broke, but I’m not paid enough to buy two dresses I’ll probably only wear once.”
He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his phone from his pocket when it starts vibrating. He doesn’t answer, instead he swipes right on the caller id and brings the device to his ear. From what you can hear from the person on the other side of the phone, you felt like he probably had something important to do. You start to get up, picking up the towels that he used to clean up the couch with. When you left to drop them off in the dirty basket, you return to find your door cracked and Haechan to be missing. Assuming he had went back to his apartment, you start to go and close the door before it swings. Haechan comes in, being followed behind by a guy you don’t recognize.
“Donghyuck, that’s breaking bro-code and you know it.” You’re a little confused as to why Haechan was called by another name, but you stay silent and watched the blonde haired boy cross his arms at Haechan. “I told you Yangyang, I’m not going to give you the girl at my jobs number—she already told me she filed a restraining order.”
Yangyang, the blonde haired guy you assume, pouts as he gets down on his knees with hands intertwined. “Pretty please, it doesn’t even have to be her, it can be someone else, I just need someone man—I’m lonely!”
You watch the dramatic scene unfold in your living room, getting a weird sense of deja vu. After clearing your throat to try and prevent yourself from coughing, both boys look at you with confusion in their eyes. “Are you the fake girlfriend?”
“I guess?” The question threw you off when Haechan’s friend said it so bluntly. “Stop asking questions and go to my apartment.” Haechan picked his friend up from the ground, shooing him out of yours and to the one across the hall. When Yangyang was now in his apartment, Haechan turned to you with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry for what you had to witness.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ve had weirder experiences than that if I’m being honest.”
He nods, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks around the floor. “So, I uh, I gotta get back to him or else he’ll probably destroy my apartment.”
“I’ll walk you home.” Your offer had his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink as you followed him from your door to his. Right before he went inside, he turned around and, to your surprise, gave you a hug. You took him in, wrapping your arms around his as you two held each other for what felt like forever. “Goodnight, Haechan.” You whispered as he pulled away, smiling at him. “Donghyuck.”
When you looked at him confused, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “My name is donghyuck, but my friends typically call me Haechan.”
“So we’re not friends?” He shook his head, smiling so fondly at you that you weren’t sure what was real or fake at this point. “Only my special friends can call me Donghyuck.”
That night, his words echoed in your head as you laid in bed staring at your ceiling. You seem quite delusional for falling for someone who you barely know, but boy oh boy does he have you on the edge and you’re ready to give it all just to fall into him. You grab your phone from off your bed, scrolling through your messages till you find Karina’s name.
y/n: baby boo u awake?
naevis baevis: no ew go to sleep
y/n: I think I like him
naevis baevis: GIRL WHATT THE HELL DID I MISS??
y/n: i don’t know I’m IDK he’s got me feelin wheezy
naevis baevis: so he’s got you having diarrhea??
y/n: NO BITCH WHAT??
naevis baevis: tell me tomorrow at work I’m too tired for you and your pneumonia
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As Karina swiveled her chair around, you sat on top of her desk while picking at the chipped polish on your nails. “So what’s his friend look like?” You look over at her with a deadpan expression as she wiggles her phone in her hand for you to see. “That’s the least important part of the story and instead of being a good friend you wanna ask about the random guy who practically begged for bitches on my living room floor?” She nods, continuing to wiggle her phone at you until you snatch it from her hand and type in his name.
“That’s all I get?” She frowns, scrolling through the pulled up suggested accounts with the same name. “Look, I only know his name was Yangyang and you better hope I spelt that right.” She looks focused as she continues to scroll through, clicking on an account and holding it up for you to approve—to which you did. “He’s kinda cute.” She coos, looking through his instagram feed while leaning back in her chair. “Karina.” You whine, nudging her leg with your foot as she giggles at her phone. She looks up from her phone, mirroring your pout as she sets the device down and folds her hands together. “Look, I don’t see anything wrong with it, he’s offering to pay for your dresses and he’s incredibly hot from what I saw on his friends page so I say it’s a win-win.”
“How do you know he’s incredibly hot based off his friends page?”
“Duh, you’ve described this man to me so many times I’ve practically seen him through your eyes at this point.” She had a point, ever since Haechan walked into your life, all you seem to do is talk about him and how he makes your stomach is filled with butterflies. “So when’s the wedding again?” You snap out from your thoughts, staring at her with shock. “Huh?”
“His friends wedding, when is it?” For some reason when she first asked the question, you thought she was talking about you and Haechan and that alone had your face turning a slight shade of pink. “Girl please don’t tell me you thought I was talking about your man.” You rolled your eyes, sliding yourself off her desk and pulled down the rolled up pieces of fabric of your pants. “He’s not my man.” She gives you a look that tells you she doesn’t buy your bullshit and swivels her chair back around to her computer. “Tell that to lover boy next time you see him.”
You ignore her last comment and head back to your desk, confused to see a note left by your keyboard. When you pick it up, you read that Xiaojun had eaten your lunch by accident and apologized via sticky note. Crumbling it in your hand, you plop down into your chair in defeat. You throw the sticky note in the trash and start to open up files on your computer when you hear the phone on your desktop ring. Answering, you continue to click open files with the phone to your ear. “Y/n’s office.”
“Hey y/n, it’s winter down at the front desk, this guy is asking for you if you’re not busy.” You check the time on your computer, shrugging as you pin a couple important things before closing off the rest. “Sure, I’ll come down.” After you hang up the phone, you let Jaehyun know you’re going to lunch in which he replies he hopes you get a stomach bug. One of these days you’re gonna poison his food you think—playfully of course.
After a quick elevator ride down, you enter the main lobby of your building and wave at Winter who was standing behind the front desk. She returns the wave with a smile and points over at Haechan who was sitting on a bench by the front doors. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers and his phone. “Um, are you stalking me because if you are then this won’t work, I draw the line at being creepy.” Your voice caught Haechan’s attention, closing off his phone and tucking it into his jacket pocket as he gets up and heads towards you. “No I’m not stalking you, I asked the landlord for your number and where you worked and surprisingly he told me in a heartbeat.”
You make the mental note to stop sharing personal information with your landlord before focusing in on the flowers in his hand. Haechan’s eyes follow yours, looking down at the flowers before handing them over to you. “I thought since I’m your fake boyfriend, I might as well be a good one for compensation on having to deal with the shit show you got sucked into.” You smile at the flowers, looking up to meet his eyes. “Thank you, for the flowers I mean.” He nods, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to hide his smile. “So, you’re not busy are you, because I totally showed up unannounced, but I figured it was better to do that then text you and you block my number”.
“No, I’m on lunch right now and you chose the best option on that.” He nods, linking his arm with yours and immediately starts walking towards the exit. “Excuse me, but where exactly are we going and why the hell did you feel the need to skip with your steps?” He smiled and if you’re honest, his smile brightened up the entire atmosphere around you. “We’re going dress shopping, duh, oh and to get lunch because I’m a good boyfriend like that.”
You didn’t have time to protest before the two of you were off into the city. He gave you the choice for lunch, picking a taco stand near some shops because you felt guilty for him paying for everything. He would not let you bring out your wallet and even threatened to throw it out the window if you tried to spend your money. The gesture was sweet, but his seriousness made you tuck it safety away in your pocket.
Once you found a dress shop you were comfortable entering, you both entered and looked around before one of the staff took you away while the other walked Haechan around and helped him pick out dresses for you to try on. Once he found a couple different options, you tried them on and the both of you settled on your favorite pick for the first dress that you’d wear to the ceremony. Since the reception was going to be later in the night, Haechan opted for a different dress that was more covering so that you wouldn’t be so cold. When you came out in the second dress that he himself specifically picked, you almost felt too nervous to meet his gaze.
When he turned around from talking to a staff member, he visibly froze when his eyes met with yours. Panic starts to rush through your veins as you pull and fluff the dress in hopes that you don’t look like a total fool. “So, how does it look?” Haechan didn’t say anything for almost two minutes, staring at you with his mouth open. You snap your fingers at him, face turning read as the staff members smile lovingly at you both. “Sorry, I uh, wow.” You look at him dumbfounded, turning around to go back and change out of the dress. Just before you close the curtain, you could feel the warmth from his fingers wrap around your wrist and turn you around. “Breathtaking, to answer your question, you look absolutely breathtaking.”
“I meant the dress.” You mumble as you try to avoid his gaze. “The dress is just a piece of fabric, it’s the person wearing it that gives it such glow.” You couldn’t think straight, your mind going to mush with the lack of space between you and Haechan, the sudden smell of his cologne taking over your senses and his blown-out pupils making you feel almost dizzy. You nod, swallowing thickly as you pull yourself from his grasp and rush into the changing area. Embarrassing is what you’d call that, way too embarrassing to talk about and way too embarrassing to not forget. You opt to pretend it didn’t happen and get dressed. When you hang the dresses on the outer rack, you realize the dress Haechan picked didn’t have any coverage on the shoulders and by time you had gotten dressed, you saw him at the register.
“Where’s the dresses?” You ask, meeting him by his side when he gets his receipt from the cashier. “They’re bagging them up now, why?”
“The second one didn’t have sleeves, you wanted sleeves so I don’t get cold, no?” To see the smile on his face made you confused, there wasn’t anything particular that was funny nor did you say anything for him to be smiling like he just found a million dollars. “I only want you by my side in that dress, the rest doesn’t matter.” You snicker, shoving him as one of the staff members calls his name. He walks over, getting both dresses in their boxes and some simple instructions on how to take care of them in washing. “You two are a beautiful couple.” The cashier’s voice caught you off guard, waving your hands as you shake your head.
“No, you’re mistaken, we’re not together.” Her eyes flicker between you and Haechan, smiling as she looks away embarrassed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought because of the way you two look at one another.” You were just about to ask her what she meant by that when Haechan came back. “Ready to go?” You nodded, following him out the store and back to his car where you two drove in silence back to your job.
He bid you a goodbye and told you he’d keep the dresses till you came by to get them. You promised him you’d be by after work and went back into the building with the biggest smile on your face. With the flowers in one hand, you scanned your ID badge when you entered the building and saw a bunch of weird states from your coworkers. You wouldn’t necessarily call the weird, but they were all smiling at you so sickly that you felt as if you were about to get pranked.
The ride up the elevator was also weird, a bunch of people kept giggling and smiling at you when asking about your flowers and it was starting to make you uncomfortable. As you got off on your floor, you walk down to get to your desk when someone grabs you and drags you into a janitor’s closet. You nearly scream when being jerked to the side until you see Karina with a shit-eating grin on her face. Now that you know you weren’t about to be chopped up into little pieces, you steady yourself and take deep breaths to catch your breath. “You’re fucking insane.”
Staring at her in shock, you slap her thigh to which she winces. “Me, insane? You just drug me into a closet like a psycho maniac and for what?” She giggles into her hand, leaning forward as she sniffs your flowers. “So he brought you fucking flowers girl? We were just talking about him and he shows up with a bouquet and a ring?”
You roll your eyes at her emphasis on a ring. “What ring, we literally—wait firstly who told you he brought me flowers?” She then proceeds to explain how Winter saw you and Haechan and then told Ningning who then told Wendy who then told Taeyong who then told Jaehyun who then told literally everyone. You make another mental note to hunt Jaehyun down and ruin his chance at having kids. “So spill the tea, c’mon, don’t be shy and tell me about your date.”
“It wasn’t a date, he took me to lunch which he wouldn’t let me pay for I might add, he brought me dresses for the wedding he coerced me to be his date for and then drove me back.” She holds her hand over her mouth as she stares at you with a smile. “So he took you on a date.” You then slap her thigh again as she giggles and an unfamiliar smell catches your attention. “What’s that smell?” She looks at you, considering what smell you could be talking about. You lean in, getting a good look at her to realize her hair had been messed with, her lips slightly swollen and her shirt was buttoned wrongly.
You give her a grin as she sees you connect the dots and immediately opens the door. “Oh no, come back and do spill the tea miss Karina!” She covers her ears, trying to block you out as you follow behind her and start pointing out the differences of her appearance from before you last saw her.
Later that night, you kept your promise to go over to Haechan’s, but only after you had taken a very much needed shower did you do so. When you knocked on his door, you could hear the music that was being played stop and a bit of shuffling before the door opened. You expected to see Haechan, but to your surprise you saw someone you weren’t exactly familiar with. The guy who was giving you a weird look was his honestly kind of cute in an intimidating way, but you stopped yourself from thinking that any further than you already did. “Are you gonna say something or are you just gonna stare at me?”
Embarrassed, you avert your eyes from his and try to think of something to say. You don’t know why you feel so under pressure, maybe it was the lack of expression in his face or the fact that he was practically your height, but made you feel small. “Renjun, was that the pizza guy?” You could hear Haechan from inside the apartment, his voice bringing a smile to your lips. Just as you’re about to go back into your apartment and give up on getting your dresses, Haechan comes beside to the boy you assume is Renjun and sees your visible uncomfortableness. “Y/n, hi- oh shit I forgot to give you your dresses, didn’t I?”
“No, no actually I was supposed to come get them, but that’s okay I’m just gonna uhm I’m gonna go home.” Backing away from the door, you signal to your apartment entrance behind you as you see Haechan pout. “Wait, why don’t you come inside and hang out with us?” Haechan, who slipped through the space between Renjun and the wall, made his way to you in hopes to stop you from leaving. Your eyes flicker between Renjun and Haechan, feeling almost guilty for wanting to remove yourself from this awkward situation. “Hyuck, I’m just across the hall, go have time with your friend.”
Haechan’s face softened at the nickname, nodding when his hand brushed against yours. He clears his throat as he steps back towards his apartment, waving at you goodnight as you go back in to snuggle up to your cat. Haechan re-entered his apartment, ignoring the look on Renjun’s face as he plops down on his couch. “What was that and why was that so weird?” Haechan shot a look over at Renjun when his friend started to mirror the look.
“What, I mean from what I just saw from you two, y’all have some weird tension that needs to be solved.”
“Nah, you just scared her away by being that ugly.”
Renjun sarcastically laughs at Haechan’s poorly made joke, flipping up his middle finger at his friend. “I have you know that women find me dangerously attractive.” Haechan snickers, trying to prevent himself from laughing too hard. “Is that what your mom tells you at night?” The last part is what lead Haechan to run for his life around his apartment as Renjun brought various objects for use of a weapon against his friend. Finally after the two made a truce, Haechan decides to text you after remembering how he never did give you his number.
You were a little surprised to get a text when you weren’t expecting one, especially at the hour that it came in. You had been on the phone with Karina while she filled you in on the reason for her shirt being undone and messed up earlier that day. “I literally don’t know what came over me, but I messaged the guy and he ended up being around and we just pounced.”
You laugh, clicking on the message app. “I can’t believe you nearly gave it all to Yangyang.” She laughs, wiping the tears that were in the corners of her eyes from all the giggling you two have been doing. “Me either! I mean I know he’s cute, but damn his lips are magic.” You hesitate to open the unknown message, afraid it could bad someone trying to scam you out of whatever you got and to be honest it wasn’t much, but you knew you wouldn’t let them have your cat peanut.
unknown: hey
y/n: uhm hello?
unknown: I miss u
y/n: I will literally block you
unknown: ITS ME ITS HAECHAN
y/n: ohh hi hyuck
You decide change his contact name and save his number.
boy next door aka hyuck: wyd :p
y/n: blocking you bc that was cringe
boy next door aka hyuck: you want me so bad oo 😵‍💫
y/n: don’t you wish I did 😏
boy next door aka hyuck: yes
y/n: I’m telling my fbi agent
boy next door aka hyuck: tell them I said i just wanted to text you so you’ll have my number
boy next door aka hyuck: and to apologize for Renjun earlier but goodnight for now
y/n: goodnight hyuck
boy next door aka hyuck: goodnight y/n
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The rest of the week and a half that played out before the wedding only added more fuel to the fire in your heart that burned for Haechan. He would send you songs throughout the day at random times to which you started adding to a playlist anytime you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He would leave things at your doorstep or drop stuff off at your job for you to get on your lunch break. He occasionally would come over or you’d be invited over and the two of you would spend the night laughing at poorly made moves, singing old Michael Jackson songs at the top of your lungs, which is how you realized that he was literally gifted the voice of an angel, and play board games after the two of you had one too many drinks.
Each time you two were alone and it was late, it always seemed that you were avoiding the inevitable. You could always stop yourself from leaning in and stealing a kiss from his plump and precious lips, but that never stopped your mind from thinking about it. The tension that Renjun mentioned before seemed to only get thicker the more you spent time with him, making it harder to see the line between this all being fake and what was genuinely real.
The morning of the wedding to be specific was when you could clearly tell that the dynamic of your relationship had shifted and there wasn’t much room to turn back now. That alone terrified you because you weren’t sure if you had been the only one feeling the way you felt. You had changed into your dress and made sure to apply minimal makeup to keep yourself from looking like a burnt out clown by the end of the night. Thankfully for you, the dress was comfortable and the venue where the ceremony was being held wasn’t too far.
“Are you nervous?” Your question came unexpected to Haechan, turning his head to give you a quick glance over as he continued his drive to the ceremony venue. “Why should I be, I’m not the one getting married.” He smiled thinking about his friend and the future he was creating from this day forward. Haechan was genuinely excited to see Johnny become a dad and do all the things he knew he was fit for. It wasn’t like Haechan was scared for that part of his future, he did look forward to being married and settling down with his partner, but he never thought he’d actually get that far in life to do so.
“Dunno, just thought I’d ask.” You lean against the window, propped up on your elbow as you watch the buildings pass by. Haechan reached over, grabbing your free hand and intertwined his fingers within yours. A lot of the time he would do this and each time it felt so comforting that silence would take over and all that could be heard was the music that was being washed out by the beating of your heart for him.
You must’ve zoned out because by the time you tuned back in, Haechan was parking the car at the front of the building and waiting for you to realize you had arrived. You got out the car, instantly smelling the salty ocean air beige meeting him around the front of the car and bring your hands up to straighten his bow tie. He smiles down at you, shoving his hands into his pockets as you brush off his tuxedo and fiddle with his hair. You give him a puzzled look, watching as he shook his head and mumbled something along the lines about ‘that was cute’.
The two of you entered the building, you turn to glance back at the beach that looked so relaxing before linking your arm with his. A few people come up to Haechan and you, introducing themselves and complementing the two of you as a couple. You stayed quiet for most of the time, not exactly knowing what to say and Haechan didn’t seem that interested in the people as well. You spot someone familiar, well he’s not exactly familiar, but you had seen him before. The boy with blue hair makes his way over, you choose to step aside and watch as he hugs Haechan as the two smile and pat one another on the back.
“Dude it’s been so long, what’s going on?” After hugging Haechan, the boy you try to remember that is Mark, straightens out his tux, but never falters his smile. “I‘be been busy with work and oh- I want you to meet someone.” To be honest, you weren’t really paying attention when Haechan started walking over to you. His warm hand lifted yours and the sweet look in his eyes made your cheeks feel warm. “This is my girlfriend y/n, y/n this is my best friend Mark.”
You go in to shake his hand, surprised when he pulled you into a hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you, y/n, lover boy over here has literally been talking nonstop about you.” You smile, watching as Haechan mouths to you that he’s going to find your seats. After mark pulls back, the two of you chat a little by the same area, occasionally looking around for Haechan to find him talking to who you assume is his friends. “You know, you’re really good for him.” Marks words had you almost taken aback, turning your head to see him smiling. “At first, I was pretty hesitant because when he told me he had a girlfriend I didn’t believe him, but I’ve seen how happy he’s been and I can’t wait for us to meet again like this, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.”
“Meet like this again?” Mark look slightly embarrassed that you didn’t catch on, but he was being called by his date for the evening so he started to make his way off.
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After the ceremony was over, everyone started to move towards the venue for the rest of the evening to conclude. A lot of people were left in tears, yourself included, by the vows exchanged between Johnny and his now wife.
When the two of you enter the venue, an overwhelming feeling washes over you and makes you grip his hand a little tighter. Haechan seems to notice, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he guides you through the crowd of people who grouped around the entrance. Once he finds quieter space to pull you two, you were too spaced out to realize how close he had gotten. Both of his hands were on your shoulders, rubbing softly on the exposed skin to calm you.
“Hey, you’re gonna be okay, I’m right here y/n.” His voice brings you in from your thoughts, focusing on in the look in his eyes and how soft his features are in this moment. With a little nod, you let him know you’re with him and he smiles as you pull one of his hands from your shoulder and intertwine your fingers. He takes this opportunity to lead you towards your table where some of his friends you met earlier were seated. You immediately spot Karina and Yangyang at the mini bar just further down from the table and gave Yangyang a wave as he spots you and Haechan.
Haechan’s hand finds its way into the small of your back, immediately getting your attention as you turn your head towards him. “I’m gonna go get us something to drink.” He says, just loud enough to be heard over the music. You nod, standing behind your chair as you look over to the stage. Johnny walks up with the widest smile you’ve seen him sport since he kissed his bride and taps on the microphone a couple times. “Can I have everyone’s attention? Hello, everyone look up here.” Everyone goes quiet and the musics volume is lowered as Johnny looks over at the crowd. “I want to thank everyone coming out to celebrate me and my lovely wife coming together, this first dance will go out to all the new and older couples that are here, please join us in this dance to celebrate love that’s everlasting.”
Just as Johnny raises his glass, Haechan comes back and hands you your drink. You smiled as you took the glass from him and took a sip as the crowd raised theirs with Johnny. Just as Johnny gets off the stage, couples all start to make their way to the dance floor as Johnny gets to his wife and meets her in the middle. “We should go dance.” Surprised, you set your glass down and give Haechan a puzzled look. “Dance? But I don’t know how to dance and this is a couples dance.” He doesn’t take no for an answer, grabbing your hand and pulling you to follow him. “We are a couple.” You can’t exactly tell if he’s still going along with the fake dating charade for his friends or if the light in his eyes was genuine.
It doesn’t take much for you to give in, especially when the most romantic song Dandelions starts to play. Once he found a moveable spot on the floor, his hands circle around to your back and pull you in close. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you try not to make too much eye contact with him inches away from your face. “You’re so beautiful, y/n.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, trying to hide your face from him as you clear your throat. “Likewise, hyuck.”
“Just likewise?” When you turned your head to face his, he seemed a lot closer than you remembered and for some reason that terrified you and relaxed you at the same time. “I mean you are beautiful, very handsome and whatnot.” He laughs and the sound goes straight to your heart. You knew before you gotten to this point that falling for him would be so easy and so hard, but never did you expect for it to be this gentle. “I’m glad you think so, that alone gives me enough confidence to do what I’ve been dying to do.” You tilt your head at his sudden confession, watching as he leaned in and rested his head against yours.
You didn’t know what to do or even what to say, instead you opted to stay quiet and continue to hold him as the two of you danced. Somewhere between the end of Dandelions and the beginning of Golden Hour, your head was now resting against his chest and the two of you were lost in your own world. Haechan brought his hand up to your chin, gently lifting your head up. You blink at him, caught up in the music and the moment, not realizing what was about to happen nor did you want it to stop.
Haechan leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him further in. Your brain turned into mush and your body felt like it was on fire as the two of you were caught up in a slow and almost loving kiss on the dance floor. Haechan was the first to pull away, resting his forehead against yours as he catches his breath. You continued to sway with him, moving back and forth as you build up the courage to ask the question you’ve been dying for an answer to. “Will you be my girlfriend, like a real one this time?” Pulling back, you smile at Haechan who looks almost panicked.
“Because if not that’s okay too- like you don’t have to we can totally forg—“ You cut him off by pulling him back in for a kiss. He smiles against your lips, giving your hip a playful squeeze. Once the two of you pull back from one another’s lips, Haechan smiles which turns into a soft string of laughs. “What’s so funny, it’s not exactly polite to laugh after kissing a girl you know.” He tries to explain, failing to when he continues laughing. “Aren’t you glad you got a free trial?” You give him a puzzled look, watching as he steps back from you and spins around on his heel. “Free trial wedding style.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the way he poorly described your fake relationship from the beginning, but he had a point. You look back and now thank the universe for bringing him into your life and can’t wait to see what it’ll be like from here on out. Who knows, maybe the next wedding you’ll be at will be yours.
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©︎𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐍., 2022
2K notes · View notes
sickslimez · 12 days
Text
MONEY LOVE! — TOJI FUSHIGURO
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SYNOPSIS...toji loves to come into the club every week and spend his time watching you dance, finding himself infatuated with you
INFO...toji x stripper fem!reader, no smut, sexual tension, toji is kinda older, toji is rich, talks of blowjob, talks of sex, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
welcome to my second account everyone I’m @classyrbf but now I’m writing on here cause I’m shadowbanned so do not be alarmed if the writing and layout is similar bc it is me lol
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At the end of every Friday, Toji finds himself driving to the strip club at the edge of town. The one that’s always crowded with gross old men looking to take one the dancers home for the night, ones that could never keep their hands to themselves, and eventually get kicked out for being too drunk. As much as he dislikes it, he only goes there for one thing. You.
He sits there, narrow eyes watching your figure sway around the pole, heels hitting the floor with each step you took. The bitter alcohol burns his throat as he takes a sip, watching the way you bend over in front of him, arching your back. All the others mutter around him, catcalling you and saying the most cliche things, but Toji keeps his thoughts to himself. Instead, he pulls out a wad of cash, counting the bills one by one. “Sweetheart,” he calls out to get your attention. You slowly turn towards him with a small smile. He hands you a few bills before saying, “keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll earn the rest.”
Toji knows that you’ve seen him before, always comes around the same time, the only man who tips big in this shitty town. The others just watch and get their dicks hard. With him, you’ve taken a liking, even if you didn’t know his name. He kept to himself, a reserved man, but he only ever watched you, wanted you. It made you feel special in a way. You kneel down in front of Toji, smirking at him. “What’s your name, Mister?” You ask, chuckling. Toji stares you down, a stoic expression on his face. “Oh, come on. You’re not gonna answer? I see you in here all the time,” you tease, reaching out to touch his hand. Still, no answer.
“Hey, baby, why don’t you come over here!” The others shout out, whistling. You pull away from Toji, strutting across the stage to give the other men a show, wrapping your leg around the pole and twirling around it.
It isn’t until almost the end of your shift when your manager tells you someone requested a private dance. You were exhausted, but still, all you were thinking about was the money. Hopefully, whoever this person was had it. You changed into another scandalous outfit, freshening up before you headed over to the private rooms. Slowly opening the door, your eyes met with Toji’s. “Still here?” You smiled, shutting the door behind you.
He sat on the velvet couch, legs spread, the purple led lights bouncing off of his skin. You walked over to him, standing in between his legs as he stared up at you. “What is it that you’re looking for, hm?” You asked, leaning over so you were face to face with him. Your lips were only inches away from his. “I see you every week, same day, same time, yet I don’t even know your name.”
“Toji Fushiguro,” he answered, plainly.
“And what is it that you want, Toji?” Your hands slowly pushed him back, brining your legs over his waist, straddling him. The scent of expensive cologne filled your lungs.
He found it hard not to touch you right now, your body pressed right against him and he couldn’t do a single thing about it. He’s become infatuated with you, more infatuated than he’s ever wanted to be. He stared you in the eye, catching the glint and that smirk you always have. He finally decided to break the silence. “I want you.”
A laugh erupted from your chest as you shook your head at him. “We don’t do those kinds of services here. Strictly a strip club, Mr. Fushiguro.”
“I don’t think you’re understanding what I’m saying, sweetheart. I don’t mean sex,” he scoffed.
“Oh.” You blinked, shocked.
“I wanna take you on a date, spend time with you. You’re a beautiful girl who deserves more than old creeps trying to fuck her every second just because she’s doing her job. Though, it completely your choice.” He slightly tilted his head to the side.
“Do you…mean it?” You asked, mostly at a loss for words.
“When are you free?” He questioned.
“All day tomorrow, I’m not doing a thing,” you replied.
“Good.” He picked you up off of his lap, sitting you on the couch. “Here’s my number, text me.” He handed you a small slip of paper. “Oh, and here’s the rest of that cash.” He pulled out the wad of cash he had in his hand earlier, giving it to you like nothing. “When are you off work?”
“Um,” you stared up at his tall and muscular figure, “in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll take you home, I’ll be outside.” He walked out the room, leaving you sitting there on the couch dumbfounded. Did that seriously just happen? Muffled club music filled your ears as you sat there, staring into the room. Your gaze slowly shifted to the money in your hand, a mix of five thousand and ten thousand yen bills.
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The back door the club squeaked as you opened it, the night breeze hitting you in the face as soon as you stepped out. A small shiver sent up your spine, heels clicking against the pavement, eyes wandering around the parking lot for Toji. Turning the corner, you caught sight of him. He was leaning against his car, cigarette in hand as he blew the excess smoke from his lungs. A smile crept up on your face, slowly walking over to him. “Hey,” you spoke, catching his attention.
He looked up, seeing you standing right in front of him. You adjusted the duffel bag you had on your shoulder, full of the money you made tonight and the outfits you had brought along. “You ready?” He asked, flicking his cigarette on the floor and snuffing it with his shoe. You gave a simple nod. He opened the passenger door for you, allowing you to get it first and shutting it behind you. The gesture made you smile even if it was the bare minimum. You’ve barely met this guy, yet he’s the first to treat you with more respect than anyone you’ve ever met. “Where do you live, sweetheart?”
“Oh, I live on 51st street, you know those apartments by the highway,” you informed.
“Yeah, I know, I pass by there all the time heading to work.” He reversed out of the parking lot, looking over his shoulder to make sure no cars were approaching.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything from me? Like at all? Not even a kiss? Heated makeout session? A blowjob?” You asked, laughing slightly.
Toji chuckled at you, shaking his head, “as much as I would love those things, no”
“Really?!” You asked, surprised.
“Really.” He glanced at you.
“Mmm, then how about after our first date?” You asked in a sultry tone.
“Do you really wanna fuck me that bad?” He stopped the car at a red light, turning his head to look at you.
“You kind of make it hard for me to not want to,” you explained, placing your hands around his arm, hugging it towards you.
“And why is that?” He placed his finger under your chin, lifting your chin. Your breath got caught in your throat as you stared into his dark eyes, feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest.
“You’re the first guy to ever treat me nicely,” you quietly told.
“As much as I’m flattered, it’s basic human decency. So, get used to it, yeah?” The light turned green, Toji tearing his gaze away from you as he began to drive again. You put your hands back in your lap, fiddling with the fabric of your duffel bag. The rest of the car ride was silent, but not awkwardly silent. It was peaceful, the roads empty, and feeling the small breeze on your skin from the cracked window. It was almost enough to put you asleep until the car came to a full stop.
You looked up to see you were in front of your apartment building. As you undid your seatbelt, Toji stopped you. “Tomorrow five o’clock, I’ll be here.”
“And I’ll be ready.” You smiled. He watched you open the car door before you stopped and turned back to face him. You leaned in planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” you muttered and stepped out of the car. He made sure you got in the building safely before pulling off. The scent of your perfume lingered in the car, and he could feel the lipgloss from your kiss still on his cheek, though he felt no need to wipe it off. He knew he was going to make you his girl the moment he laid eyes on you that night three months ago.
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thot-of-khonshu · 9 months
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stripped (joel miller x stripper!reader)
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Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Commissions
Summary: when Joel is dragged to a strip club for Tommy's birthday, all he wants to do is go home and go to bed. And then he meets you.
Rating: M, 18+ (this is self indulgent pwp. pure filth)
Word count: ~6K
Content: no outbreak timeline, pwp, age gap, stripper! reader, dirty talk, rough p in v sex, public sex, fingering, squirting, blowjobs, throat fucking, doggy style, missionary, creampie, joel is a little dominant, lapdance, striptease
A/N: Thank you for reading!! Reminder that I’m taking commissions! Click the link for more information. But other than that I hope you enjoy this seriously self indulgent fic ❤️
"Did you know when you were coming in to work tonight that you were gonna get fucked like this?" Joel murmured, his hips moving quicker against you. "Did you know that you were gonna let me fuck you so hard that you were going to feel me tonight when you were walking to your car? Did you know that you were gonna let me fuck you like that? Fuck you right here on this couch?"
The last place Joel ever expected to, let alone wanted to be at was at a fucking strip club. He'd worked all day, making sure that concrete was poured properly and that his team met their project deadline. The strip club was the last place on his mind, but it was Tommy's birthday and he promised he'd go out and do whatever his little brother wanted.
If that included a bunch of women he didn't know grinding on his drunk brother, at least he knew where Tommy was and he didn't have to search all over Austin trying to babysit him.
The truth is Joel wasn't usually into the whole stripper atmosphere. Even during his bachelor party for his ex-wife, he suggested a nice steak dinner and some live music at a bar. He just wanted a night as low key as he was.
The music thumped from the speakers making the walls tremble. Laser lights flashed across the room, and Tommy's drunken yelps competed with the loud din of the crowd. Joel took a few steps back and shook his head in disbelief, wishing he hadn't agreed to come. It just wasn't his scene.
He muttered something about needing some fresh air and grabbed his coat off the back of the chair. He stepped outside into the cool night air, pulling a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. As he lit up, his eyes scanned the parking lot before settling on the stars above.
"Got a light?" He heard a voice ask him.
He glanced over his shoulder, and there you were, standing with your feet shoulder-width apart. Your eyes shifted nervously as they met his gaze in surprise. You had on an oversized pair of sweatpants and a neon bikini top that showed off your gorgeous skin. You looked clearly too young too hot to spend time at this place to not be getting paid to.
Joel took a drag from his cigarette, studying you for a moment before nodding and handing you his lighter. You thanked him and lit your own cigarette, taking a long drag before exhaling the smoke into the cool night air.
"Thanks," you said, your eyes flicking up to meet his again.
For a couple of moments, the two of you remained quiet, puffing your cigarettes.
"Having fun in there?" You asked.
"Not really my scene," Joel replied, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Just here because my little brother wanted to celebrate his birthday."
You nodded, taking another drag from your cigarette before speaking. "I hear you. I didn't really want to come in tonight but I have to deal with it. Pays the bills, you know?"
Joel raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You work here? As a…?"
You chuckled, "Stripper? Yeah. I have to pay my way through college somehow."
Joel's eyes widened in surprise, not expecting to meet someone like you in a strip club.
"I'm sorry," Joel said, "I didn't mean to assume anything about you. I hope this doesn’t sound rude but when most people talk about strippin' their way through school…"
"They make it sound sadder than it is?" You ask Joel as he nods. You take a drag from your cigarette before you continue. "I like to dance, I don't mind the nudity. Plus I don’t have a bad physique or stamina so this isn’t the worst way to make money. I can make my own schedule and the money isn’t bad."
Joel couldn't help but feel captivated by your ambition and drive. You seemed like a genuine person, and he couldn't help but feel sorry that he misjudged you.
"What do you do for a living?" You asked Joel, changing the subject.
"I'm a contractor" Joel said. "I just finished a large project earlier today. Nothin' too exciting."
You take another drag from your cigarette, your eyes drifting over Joel's face. He had a rugged handsomeness to him. He had gorgeous brown eyes, a strong and large nose and full lips that you couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to kiss. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him.
"I bet you're great at what you do," you said with a smile.
Joel chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him at your compliment. "I try my best. It's not the most glamorous job but it pays the bills."
You both fall silent again, the only sounds being the soft hum of the music filtering through the walls and the occasional yelp or cheer that echoed from inside the strip club.
"You know, for a guy who's worried about being too old to hang with his younger brother, you seem pretty chill," you said, breaking the silence.
Joel smiled, the corners of his mouth tilting up. "Thanks, I guess?"
You chuckle, shaking your head. "I mean it's pretty obvious you aren't into this. You don't look at me like you want to jump my bones," you say with a wink, making Joel chuckle.
"Not to say you're not hot," Joel says, making you giggle. "It's just not really my thing."
"Well then, Mr. Contractor," you say, stubbing your cigarette out on the concrete. "Do you want to get a drink?"
"That sounds nice," Joel said with a grin, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at your invitation. "Are you allowed to do that though? I don't want to get you in trouble."
You shake your head. "Well, since I'm still on the clock I won't be drinking. But you seem like you could use a drink, especially If you're going to be here for a while longer playing babysitter."
Joel let out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. "Alright, well if you're okay with it…"
Before Joel could finish his sentence, Tommy comes stumbling outside looking between the two of you. "There you are, ya old fucker!" He exclaimed.
Joel rolled his eyes and you gave him an apologetic look.
Tommy slung an arm around Joel's shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "You gotta come back inside, man. You're missing out on all the fun!"
Joel sighed, knowing he didn't have much of a choice. He turned to you, giving you an apologetic smile. "Maybe another time," he said, before following Tommy back into the strip club.
"I'll see you in there." You called towards him.
As they made their way through the crowds of people, Tommy's arm still slung over his shoulder, Joel couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment that he didn't get to spend more time with you.
"Who was that you were talking to out there?" Tommy grinned.
"Just someone I met outside," Joel shrugged, not feeling like discussing it with his younger brother.
Tommy's grin grew wider. "Oh yeah? Did she give you her number?"
"No, Tommy," Joel said firmly, rolling his eyes.
Tommy shrugged, making Joel shake his head. "You're hopeless, big brother, you know that?"
Joel just chuckled and nodded. It's not that he wasn't interested in you, but you were younger and probably a good bit out of his league. You were sweet and adorable. He couldn't help but feel nervous around someone who seemed to have it all figured out.
You on the other hand, had been captivated by the tall contractor. There was something about him that made you want to get to know him more. Maybe it was his gentle smile, or the warmth in his brown eyes, but you knew you wanted to see him again. You figured you had the night to make a move, though. You had eyed the party he was with and how drunk and rowdy they were. You knew they weren't leaving the club for a while.
As the night wore on, you couldn't help but find yourself thinking about Joel. You had danced for a few more customers, but your mind kept drifting back to the handsome contractor. You wondered what it would be like to feel his strong arms wrapped around you, or to have his full lips pressed against your own. You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts aside. It wasn't like you could just walk up to him and ask him to kiss you.
But as fate would have it, you found yourself standing near the bar during a break, sipping on soda water, when you heard a voice call out to you.
"EXCUSE ME! Sweetheart!"
One of the most unpleasant parts of the job was having a group of intoxicated, older men who didn't know your name addressing you with terms like 'sweetheart'.
You rolled your eyes and turned around to see Joel and his brother. His brother was the one calling you over while Joel was at his side looking thoroughly embarrassed. And yet you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the sight of him.
"Yes?" You said, plastering on a fake smile. You knew you weren't being paid to smile at these idiots but it was impossible not to show a little bit of happiness at seeing Joel.
Tommy leaned in close to you, his breath smelling strongly of alcohol. "My brother here," he gestured towards Joel, "hasn't been out in a while. He needs someone to show him a good time tonight. And who better than someone as beautiful as you?"
You couldn't help but feel your cheeks flush at his words. You knew Tommy was just trying to help his brother out, but it still made you feel awkward.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Joel said, his eyes darting towards you. He looked just as uncomfortable as you felt, his eyes avoiding yours.
"Oh, come on," Tommy said, his tone pleading. "It'll be fun! And I'll even pay for a private dance if you want. You two can get to know each other a little better," he winked at you before turning back to his brother. "What do you say, Joely boy?"
Joel sighed and rolled his eyes, making you smile a little. "I really don't think it's a good idea," Joel said. "Besides, she probably has other customers waiting for her."
You knew Joel was probably right. There were plenty of other customers who had come to you. But there was something about Joel that made you want to be around him.
"No worries, I have some time," you said with a smile.
The grin on Tommy's face was unmistakable. Joel looked embarrassed, but he seemed to soften a bit at your words.
Tommy gave you a nod. "Sounds like a plan!" He smiled eagerly. "To the VIP room y'all go!"
Tommy excitedly dragged Joel behind him, leading you towards the back of the strip club.
As you made your way towards the room, Joel tried his best not to feel embarrassed.
"Y'all have 30 minutes. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Tommy grinned before leaving the two of you alone in the room. The room had two leather couches and a small stage with a pole. The music from the club was muffled.
As soon as the door shut, Joel let out a deep breath. "Joel let out a loud sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus, Tommy," he muttered under his breath. "I wasn't really in the mood to-," he stopped short when you turned around to face him, your back pressed against the door.
Joel's eyes grow wide as he sees the way your body looks in your barely there bikini, your sweatpants nowhere to be found from your first meeting. At first he hadn't noticed out of the sheer embarrassment over the situation with Tommy. He tries to clear his throat, feeling himself growing harder at the sight of you.
"I'm sorry about this," Joel said, his tone apologetic.
"Oh, don't worry about it," you said with a shrug. "I was kind of hoping I'd get a chance to talk to you again anyway."
Joel's eyes widened at your comments, an adorable blush spreading across his chest and cheeks. "Oh…" he murmured, his gaze falling to the floor.
The two of you were silent for a moment before Joel let out a deep breath.
You chuckled and reached out to touch his hand. "You don't need to be nervous," you said, offering him a smile. "I'm a stripper, not a monster."
Joel looked up at you again, his gaze meeting yours. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I just don't know how to talk to people like you."
You chuckle, "Like me? What's wrong with me?"
Joel swallowed the lump in his throat before shrugging his shoulders. "You're just so…young and gorgeous." He looked you up and down and couldn't help but feel a heat rising up in his body. You were so beautiful and sweet. He couldn't help but be intimidated by your confidence. He didn't want to disappoint you.
"Come on," you said, offering him a smile. "We have a little time to talk before the dance." You held out your hand to him.
Joel slowly took your hand in his, feeling the electricity that pulsed between you two as your skin met. He let out a breath, not realizing he was holding it in. You gently tugged on his hand, leading him towards one of the plush leather couches. Joel felt a warm sensation rise in his belly as he sat down beside you.
The two of you talked for a while, getting to know each other as you sat in the private room, a couple of inches of distance between you.
Joel found himself feeling more at ease as the time wore on. Joel started to worry about the time you had left, thinking he didn't have enough time to finally ask for your number when he felt the buzz of his cellphone in his pocket. He excused himself for a moment and saw it was a text from Tommy.
"Booked u another half hour. Ur welcome."
Joel looked back to you, seeing you looking up at him expectantly. "My brother," he said, rolling his eyes.
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head while you read the text. "Well, I'm not complaining about extra time," you said, flashing him a smile.
As the two of you continued talking, Joel's eyes kept drifting down to your body. It was impossible not to notice how beautiful you were. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about you like this, but he couldn't help it.
You found yourself looking at Joel too. You couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. His dark eyes were striking, his smile made you feel warm inside. And you couldn't help but notice what a nice chest he had. It was hard not to notice the his broad chest stretched his t-shirt, his body toned from so many hours of hard work.
The two of you talked for a while, finally working up the courage to start flirting with one another. The two of you found yourselves laughing as the minutes ticked by, the two of you getting to know each other more and more.
"So…do you have a boyfriend?" Joel asked, his heart racing. "I mean, I don't…I didn't mean that in a bad way…"
"No, it's okay," you said, shaking your head. "I don't have a boyfriend. And I'm not seeing anyone at the moment."
Joel let out a small sigh of relief, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. He had been so nervous about asking you that question, but now that he knew you were single, he felt like he could finally let himself feel what he had been trying to hold back all night.
"Good," he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I was hoping you weren't taken."
You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at his words. The way he was looking at you was making your heart race, and you knew that you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.
Before you could say anything else, Joel leaned in, his lips pressing against yours in a soft and gentle kiss. He let his hands move to the back of your neck, holding you against his lips. His lips were soft and warm, and you found yourself leaning into his kiss.
"I hope that wasn't too forward." Joel said, pulling away for a moment to catch his breath.
You shook your head and chuckled, "Do you want your dance now?"
Joel looked up at you, smiling. "If that's okay with you."
You stood up from the couch and moved towards the pole in the center of the room, swaying your hips as you walked. You turned to face him, raising your hands above your head.
As you slowly began to dance, you couldn't help but notice the bulge in Joel's pants as he sat on the couch. The way he was watching you, the way his eyes trailed up and down your body made you feel a fire inside you. You continued on the pole, watching as Joel watched you.
You lowered yourself down the pole, spreading your legs at the last minute so that they were bent at the knee, your toes pointed towards the floor.
Joel's breath hitched in his throat as he watched you slowly bring your hands down from the pole, slowly sliding them down your body until you reached the waistband of your thong. "Jesus, you're fucking beautiful," he whispered under his breath, his eyes widening at the sight before him.
"Thank you," you said with a smile. "I have to let you know that most times I end up in the VIP Room, I strip fully nude. But if that's not something you're okay with and want to take it slow…" you trailed off, hoping he understood what you were saying.
"Well," Joel swallowed hard as his eyes darted from your face to your spread legs. "I don't want you to think you need to take it slow. But…I mean…" he paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. He had wanted to make it clear that he wasn't in this for the sex. He had only agreed to the private room so that he could talk to you and get to know you better. And although the thought of having his hands on your soft skin excited him, he didn't want to take advantage of you.
You raised an eyebrow, watching him expectantly as you slowly stood up from your position. You slowly removed your top, dropping it onto the floor. Your breasts were bare and your nipples were hard and pebbled from the cold air. You played with your breasts for a moment, tracing your fingertips across your nipples.
"If you want me to get naked, I can get naked." You slowly lowered to the ground again, sliding your hands down the sides of your body until you reached the band of your thong. You hooked your thumbs in the sides of the fabric, waiting for Joel's approval.
Joel nodded his head, feeling himself growing harder as he watched you. His eyes were transfixed on the way your hands were tracing your body. His mouth suddenly felt dry, his tongue running along his bottom lip as he watched you. "Yeah," he said with a nod, swallowing hard. "Yes. Please."
You smiled as you slid your thong down your legs and kicked it off, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You spread your legs for him, slowly revealing your soft and glistening lips.
"I just want you to know this doesn't have to go anywhere tonight." You said softly, slowly moving your hand between your legs to spread your wetness around. "You don't need to do anything you don't want to. If you want this to be just a dance…you don't have to worry about that."
Joel's eyes watched as you slid your middle finger between your folds, biting your lip as your arousal coated your finger. You were so damn gorgeous and he was in awe that you wanted him. "I want this to go somewhere, but if you don't mind if we don't take it slow…" Joel said, his tone pleading as he looked up at you with his deep brown eyes. Worshipping how you looked, naked and spread in front of him. "I just…I don't want to take my eyes off you."
You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as your middle finger continued to circle your clit. The sound of his voice made you tremble.
"Okay," you moaned as you moved your hand up from your pussy, sliding your finger between your lips and then slowly dragging it across your tongue. Joel let out a breath, watching the way you tasted yourself.
"Keep touching yourself." Joel's voice was soft, yet strong. It was obvious that he was used to giving orders, and the authority in his voice made you wetter.
You slid your finger out of your mouth and slid two fingers inside your cunt, groaning softly as your pussy clenched around your fingers. You started slowly thrusting your fingers in and out, closing your eyes as you fucked yourself for him. Grinding against your fingers while you continued to play with your clit.
"Fuck, that's so sexy," Joel murmured, his hand palming his dick through his jeans. "You're so fucking sexy."
You looked down at him, your body on display as you touched yourself in front of him. You moved your fingers in and out of your pussy, slowly curling them as you pushed them into you. Your mouth fell open in a soft moan, and you couldn't help but smile at the sound of his praise.
"I'm so close," you groaned, biting down on your lip. "I'm so fucking close."
"Yeah?" Joel said, his voice deep and seductive. "Stop."
You stopped your movements, withdrawing your fingers from your cunt and pouting a little at the command. "What?" You whimpered.
"I'm still entitled to a lapdance, right?" Joel said with a sly grin, looking up at you from the couch. "You don't have to come if I don't want you to."
You smiled and nodded, "Of course you're still entitled to your dance."
Joel patted his lap, beckoning you to sit on him. You walked towards him and straddled his waist, wrapping your arms around his neck. Joel wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. He could feel how wet you were against his pants, and he let out a low groan.
"Fuck," he growled, grinding up against you so you could feel his hard cock. You whimpered as you felt the heat of his cock pressed against you. You grinded down against his lap, moving your hips in circles so that you were rubbing against the thick bulge in his jeans.
You tilted your head back, giving Joel access to kiss along your neck. Your hands found purchase in his hair, tugging him against your skin so that his kisses became harsher. Joel nipped and bit at your skin, making you gasp and moan with each bite. You could feel your body starting to shake, your orgasm building quickly as you felt Joel's lips against your skin.
"I'm close," you panted. "I'm so close."
"Yeah? Are you gonna cum for me before I fuck that sweet little pussy?" Joel growled in your ear, his hand sliding down between you two to rub your clit.
"Oh my God," you moaned, shaking with pleasure.
"That's it. Cum for me," Joel said, his eyes meeting yours as he rubbed his fingers against you. You couldn't hold back anymore, your orgasm ripping through you as you came on his fingers. Your thighs tightened around his waist, and your body shook with pleasure. You closed your eyes, crying out Joel's name as you rode out your orgasm.
When you opened your eyes again, Joel had a smirk on his face, and you let out a small laugh. "I usually never do this with customers. Only the cute ones." You wink.
Joel shook his head, chuckling. "Well, I'm glad I'm not a normal customer."
You leaned in, kissing him softly on the lips before pulling away. "Not at all. You're so not normal, that I'm about to break a very big rule in the VIP room."
"And what rule is that?" Joel asked with a raised eyebrow.
You bite your lip, sliding off his lap so that you could move between his legs.
"Strip a guy naked and suck his cock."
"Fuck," Joel growled as you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. You pulled them down to his ankles before moving back between his legs to pull his cock out. You couldn't help but moan at the sight of it. It was big and hard, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. You smiled, leaning in to lick along the shaft and up to the head. You gave it one soft lick, looking up at Joel as you teased him.
"You already taste so good." You moaned, holding his cock against your cheek. "But I can't wait to taste more of you." You took his cock in your hand, slowly stroking it while you wrapped your lips around the head.
"Fuck," Joel groaned as he watched your tongue swirl around his head. You closed your eyes, slowly sinking lower until the head of his cock pushed against the back of your throat. You kept your lips sealed tight as you bobbed up and down on his cock. Your hand stroked the rest of him while you continued to suck him off.
"You are so fuckin' gorgeous," Joel groaned, his hand on the back of your head, gently pulling you down on his shaft. "Your mouth…Jesus fuck. Your fuckin' mouth."
Your free hand found its way between your thighs, your fingers sliding along your slit. You let out a moan, the vibration making Joel's cock twitch.
"Fuck…oh my God…you're gonna make me cum if you keep doing that," Joel groaned, his hand gripping your hair.
You moaned against his cock, sucking him as far as he could go in your mouth. Your lips were stretched tight around him, your cheeks hollowing out as you sucked him.
"Wait…wait, baby." Joel moaned, his body trembling as he tried to hold himself back. He gently tugged your hair, pulling your head back so that your lips popped off his cock. He took his hand off the back of your head. "C'mere."
You stood up from your knees and moved closer to him, straddling his waist. You could feel his cock pressed against your belly, rubbing against you as you moved. "Can I fuck you, baby?"
"Yes," you whispered, your mouth finding its way to Joel's lips. He kissed you hungrily, his hand finding its way down between you two. You were already so wet again. His fingers slipped inside your pussy easily, causing you to gasp against his lips.
Joel's other hand found its way to your ass, squeezing it tightly as he kissed you. He fucked his fingers in and out of you, pumping them into you as quickly as he could. "I need to get you ready for me."
You let out a soft whimper, kissing him as you felt his fingers inside you. You slowly ground your hips, taking more of him in as his fingers worked you open.
"That's it, baby. Ride my fingers like a good little girl." He murmured against your lips. You could feel him smiling, and it made your heart flutter. You continued to grind your hips down against his fingers, taking more of him in with each motion. "You're so fucking wet for me. You want it, don't you? You want this dick so bad. You want it in your little pussy, don't you?"
"Mhmm," you whined, nodding your head. You had never been talked to that way before, and it made you even wetter. The way he was looking up at you, the way he was teasing you and praising you while he fingered you made you want him so bad.
"Are you gonna cum on my fingers? You gonna cum on my fingers before I get my dick in that little pussy?" Joel growled, his eyes locking on yours.
"Yes," you whimpered, nodding your head again.
"Good girl," he whispered, kissing you softly on the lips as his fingers continued to thrust into you. "Go ahead. Cum for me. Let me feel that pussy cum around my fingers."
You closed your eyes, your mouth falling open as you felt your orgasm washing over you. Your thighs tightened around his waist as you felt your pussy clenching around Joel's fingers as he whispered in your ear. "That's it. Cum for me. You're gonna get what you want if you keep doing that."
You kept grinding against him as he talked you through it. The sound of your moans echoed in the room as your body shook with pleasure. When your orgasm subsided, Joel kissed you softly. "You're so beautiful." He said with a soft smile.
"Thank you," you said with a smile, kissing him back. "I haven't come that hard in a long time."
Joel pulled you against him, kissing your lips. "I'm glad to hear that," he said with a chuckle.
You slowly pulled away from him, sliding off his lap. He stood up and undressed the rest of the way before sitting back down on the couch.
"If you still wanna keep goin', we can keep goin'." Joel said, rubbing your inner thigh. "But…I know this isn't your normal thing." He said with a soft chuckle, the crinkles in his eyes appearing. "But I just…I want you. And I know that might sound weird or…" he paused, furrowing his brow.
"I like you too." You said, cutting him off. "And…if you're willing to keep going…I'd love to keep going."
Joel let out a sigh of relief, the worry on his face quickly dissolving. "Good," he murmured with a smile. He slid his hands up your legs, gently tugging on your waist so that you were laying down on the couch with him.
He moved so that he was between your legs, slowly grinding his hard cock against your slit. You moaned, biting down on your lip. You had never been this wet before, and the friction Joel was creating was driving you crazy. You could feel your arousal already leaking down your slit and onto the couch cushions.
Joel's eyes found yours, his gaze filled with lust and want. "You ready for me, baby?" He growled, his hand wrapping around his cock. He rubbed the head of his cock against your folds, the tip already coated in your juices. "You wanna get fucked?"
"Yes," you whispered, nodding your head.
Joel looked down, lining up his cock with your entrance. You closed your eyes, biting down on your lip as you felt the head of his cock pushing inside you.
"You okay?"
You nodded your head, letting out a soft moan as he stretched your pussy open. "Just…yes." You whimpered, nodding your head again. Joel wrapped one arm around your waist as his cock bottomed out inside you, his other hand moving to your clit.
"You're okay, baby," He whispered, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips. "You're okay."
"Mhmm." You nodded your head, kissing him back.
Joel slowly started to move, his fingers continuing to rub circles around your clit as his hips thrust back and forth. Your back arched, your hips bucking against him as you moaned into his mouth. "God, you're so fuckin' tight." He groaned, letting out a sharp breath. "Fuck."
He pulled his hand away from your clit, his fingers gripping your hair tightly as he started to pick up the pace. You moaned as he thrust into you harder and harder.
Joel's hips slammed into yours, his cock disappearing inside you on every thrust. "Shit," he groaned. "You're so fuckin' tight."
You could feel the tension in his body, his hand gripping your hair. His jaw was clenched, his face already covered in a thin layer of sweat. "Fuck," he growled, his hips snapping against you. "This pussy is fuckin' mine."
Your eyes shot open and you let out a moan, the sound of his possessive words filling you with a mix of desire and pleasure.
"Yours," You whimpered.
Joel let go of your hair, leaning down to kiss you as he positioned you on the couch with your ass up. He grabbed onto your hips, pulling you towards him as he slammed into you over and over again.
Your mouth fell open, your moans and gasps echoing in the room as Joel fucked you. "God, that pussy is so tight. It's fuckin' perfect. It was made for my cock," Joel groaned, his hand smacking against your ass cheek. "You like it when I get my cock nice and deep inside this pretty little pussy? I got to fuck your tight little hole while you're working."
"Y-yes," you moaned, your fingers gripping the couch cushion. Joel continued to thrust into you, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit. You couldn't control the sounds that were coming out of your mouth as his cock kept hitting you deep inside.
"Did you know when you were coming in to work tonight that you were gonna get fucked like this?" Joel murmured, his hips moving quicker against you. "Did you know that you were gonna let me fuck you so hard that you were going to feel me tonight when you were walking to your car? Did you know that you were gonna let me fuck you like that? Fuck you right here on this couch?"
"No," you whispered, biting down on your lip. You could feel your body starting to tremble, the pressure in your belly growing. You let out a loud gasp, the sound of his hips snapping against your ass filling the room as he pulled your hair to bring you to his chest.
"Is anybody else gonna fuck that sweet little hole from now on?" Joel gritted his teeth. "You gonna keep this pretty pussy for me?" You grinded back into him, gyrating your hips in small circles as you tried to match the pace Joel was setting. "It's all yours. Fuck it's all yours." You moaned, the sound of your whimpers filling your ears. Joel pulled your hair again, yanking it back as he thrust into you harder than ever before.
Your eyes shot open, a loud moan escaping you as you felt yourself falling over the edge. Your body trembled and shook, your toes curling as you came hard around his cock. "I'm cumming," you whimpered, your walls tightening around Joel. "I'm cumming."
Joel quickly removed his dick from you as a gush of water came out of you. "Oh fuck," Joel growled, watching the stream of your cum drip down his cock onto the couch.
"Shit, shit." He grunted, his hands moving to your cheeks, spreading you back open as he started to fuck up into you as fast as he could. "I'm gonna cum, baby. I'm gonna cum deep in that pussy."
You kept your eyes locked on his, biting down on your lip as he fucked into you. His eyes were closed tight, his jaw clenched as he drove his cock into you. His thrusts got quicker and more erratic.
"Fuck," he growled. "That's it. That's it." He moaned. You felt his dick pulsing, his hot cum shooting into you as his body went still.
When he pulled out of you, a gush of his cum started to drip out of you. Your legs were still shaking, and you were still trying to catch your breath. Joel let out a deep sigh, slowly opening his eyes. "Fuck."
He laid down beside you on the couch, pulling you against him. Your heart was beating wildly, and your entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat. You nuzzled into him, your head on his chest.
"Holy shit." You murmured.
"Yeah," Joel said with a chuckle, kissing the top of your head. "I…fuck. I don't know what that was."
"I don't know," you said with a smile. "You sure you've never been to a strip club because you sure know how to treat a dancer." You joke.
Joel let out a sigh, kissing the top of your head again. "I guess I've just been saving all my moves for you."
You giggled, biting down on your lip. "I'm not worthy."
"I didn't just come here for the lap dance. I came in here to ask you out on a proper date." He said, running his fingers through your hair.
You bit down on your lip, a warm feeling filling your stomach. "Oh really? And what did you have in mind?"
Joel sat up, taking you with him as he grabbed his clothes and yours. "For starters…a date where we don't have a time limit in a VIP room."
"I would like that," you said with a smile.
"We can figure out the rest later," Joel said with a chuckle. "But for now, we should probably get dressed." He helped you into your clothes, his eyes never leaving yours.
After you were both dressed, the two of you exchanged numbers. Joel grabbed your hand and led you out of the VIP room. He held the door open for you as you exited. "Thank you again. For…you know. Letting me do that in there." He said with a soft chuckle.
"You don't have to thank me," You said, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you asked me out."
Joel leaned in to kiss you softly. "I'm glad you said yes." He said with a smile. "I'll be in touch."
You watched as he walked away, feeling yourself blush when he winked at you over his shoulder. Your phone dinged, and when you checked it, you saw a text from him.
"This was the best night I've had in a long time."
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songmingisthighs · 14 days
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Whatcha Gonna Do About It ?
group : ateez
pairing : brat!wooyoung × milf!reader
genre : smut
wc : 3.3 k
tw : mdni, explicit smut, age difference (legal ofc), unprotected sex (std ew), wooyoung being annoying, reader in her mid-to-late 30s, wooyoung calling reader mommy, masturbation (m), wooyoung in some sort of a sub space ? but like... brat, slapping like.. twice?, creampie
a/n : requested by anon and part of my milf deal with @luvt0kki !! >:D
buy me coffee ?
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Warm sun, cold drink, the soft murmur of people by the pool of the country club, sometimes you appreciate your husband for moments like this.
Well, ex-husband.
While you made peace with the fact that your marriage ended years before, the divorce still brought a bitter taste in your mouth. Years spent with that asshole and he had the gall to come to you with the bimbo who couldn't even spell the word 'homewrecker' without writing it with a crayon, asking for you to help him raise the baby as the girl was willing to get paid to let go of maternal responsibilities and instead get paid to go to beauty school. Served you right for letting your parents set you with him when you were still so young just for the money. Safe to say you got the penthouse, the luxury and the community while he got the bill and the 19-year-old high school dropout with a baby on the way. Not even your son who idolized his father wants to have anything to do with his father and while your ex said it was just him being a 12-year-old, you knew better. So while your ex had to redo his whole life and regain his credibility, you were left simmering in unresolved anger and frustration. Though by the poolside, in your ridiculously expensive bikini that you bought just to piss your ex off, you found the experience rather pleasant.
"Well, well, well, look who we have here,"
Speaking of children.
Barely giving him a glance, you took a sip of your mojito and adjusted your sunglasses, "Hello, Wooyoung," you greeted half-heartedly.
Jung Wooyoung is someone you want to avoid when you're at the club. He's a notorious tease and a player and everyone knows it but has no means to stop him due to his influential family. He treats girls his age like a plaything so when he started to get close to you a couple months ago when your divorce was finalized, you didn't bat an eye. Maybe he was just bored, maybe he wanted to rile you up, or maybe he wanted to see how many demographics his good looks can affect because while he's relentless and annoying, he's VERY easy on the eyes and smooth with his words. No wonder there was a long line of broken hearts that seemed to always trail behind him.
"Surprised to see you here today," he sat himself down on your pool chaise, right next to your hip, "I heard you went to the Komodo Island for healing. And to think you'd just stick with your husband if you wanted to be close to something dangerous and cold-blooded," he smirked. While his jab at your ex amused you, you tried your best to not show any reaction by taking another sip of your drink before shrugging, "I went there to see the construction of the villa I invested in. Why? Thought you could get me to give you free access?" "Well," he pursed his lips and turned his body towards you, allowing you to trail your (thankfully sunglass-covered) eyes on the smooth expanse of his chest and watch droplets of water race down his skin, "I'd love a free access, but not to your villa. If you get what I mean," he coyly stated.
You could feel your cheeks warm up but having had enough you stood up straight and got your face close to him (much to his delight). "Okay, little boy, you think you can play with the sad divorcee? Is that it? You think someone like you can do more damage to someone like me?" You jabbed a finger at his tanned chest that now that you were so close to him, you could see how delicious it looked, "You're nothing, boy. You're just a tease with a big mouth," you hissed.
Much to your surprise, he was looking at you with such intrigue and when you looked into his eyes, you noticed the slight teasing glint in them that made you swallow a lump in your throat.
"You think I'm all talk?" He chuckled condescendingly as his hand suddenly found your shin. The touch was electrifying and it sent a sharp tingle up your spine which you found delightful as much as you had to admit. Your heart started beating harshly against your ribcage when said hand trailed upwards slowly, brushing against your inner thigh before it jumped to the hand on his chest, gently wrapping his larger palm around your hand. How can veins be hot? What are you, a mosquito?
"You think I just have a big mouth?" he teased again with voice at a lower register that drew you into a hazed state until he brought your palm to his lips, kissing the skin around your pulse point to the pads of your fingers, "Don't you know that it's good to have a big mouth?" Your eyes widened and your mouth involuntarily let out a gasp when he shoved your index and middle finger into his mouth. His mouth was warm and you could feel his tongue circling your digits which sent your core clenching and leaking arousal, suddenly imagining the muscle somewhere... Lower.
"You've been treated so bad, so I want to treat you right. But you seem to think that all I want to do is use you once and that hurt me..." He leaned close abruptly, sending you reeling to an almost lying position had it not for one of your elbows supporting your weight, "Mommy."
The name triggered something in you and as if on instinct, the hand that was in his grasp slipped away and grabbed at his throat, pressing on his jugular as you pushed him slightly away. "Did you just fucking call me 'mommy'?" you growled, glaring at him.
Wooyoung had always considered you hot and sexy but seeing you like this at a proximity this close, made his cock twitch and hands itching to pull the flimsy ties by your hips. "Yeah, whatcha gonna do about it?"
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Everything was a blur, you didn't know what exactly happened but you somehow managed to pull Wooyoung into a private cabana without getting seen (or at least you hoped no one saw) after what he had just done and in a blink of an eye, you found yourself i your current position.
"Aww, I thought you said you weren't just all talk," you pouted at Wooyoung mockingly.
Scowling, Wooyoung moved his hand faster on his cock, trying to get himself off in front of you while you stood on your knees on the daybed in front of him, an unamused look on your face. "I am," he hissed from annoyance and stimulation mixed with frustration because though he was getting some relief, it was not from you and you were just standing there as if mocking him with your presence. Seeing him in such a state, clear annoyance with an obvious blush that betrayed his demeanour somehow made you feel powerful, confident, beyond sexy. Even with your husband, whenever either of you initiated sex, the feeling was never this... thrilling. "So? You just can't cum? You're all talk and so pathetic, Wooyoung. How are you supposed to fuck me like you said you would, like you said I deserved when you can't even do it to yourself?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes which made Wooyoung let out a sharp exhale.
You had to admit, you liked the sight of Wooyoung stark naked with his knees slightly bent and legs spread wide. Seeing from the way your eyes fell from his own gaze to his twitching cock, and the way you bite your bottom lip, Wooyoung was aware that you liked what you saw and it made his back arch as if to make a big showcase of his pleasure. Your pussy was practically drenched seeing the hot twenty-four-year-old trying so hard to please himself to please you what with beads of sweat and remnants of pool water that slowly seeped into the cushions underneath him. He was glowing. You couldn't believe that a guy like him wanted you to the point of throwing himself at you like an idiot.
"Mommy, come on," he moaned, dropping his chest back, "I'm touching myself to you so the least you can do is pop those pretty titties out to help me cum because now that I have you in front of me, I need it, I need it bad," he whined, trying to inch his body closer to yours only for you to drop your hands on his knees, securing his position. Wooyoung halted his movements when he saw your tits dangling in front of him, the flimsy fabric couldn't hide your hardened nipples and the sight of them bouncing and jiggling at the slightest movements made his eyes widen and mouth drool.
Despite his Neanderthal-like vocabulary and crass expression, you felt flattered and as weird as it is, you found a unique charm in that. "You think you deserve to see my tits, boy?" you smirked, crawling closer to him until you sat yourself on the tops of his knees with legs caging his comfortably. Wooyoung's eyes automatically dropped lower to the space between your legs, taking note of the dark patch that had formed and smirked, happy that you were turned on seeing him put on a show for you. Slowly, he started stroking himself again, this time putting more pressure in his grip, "Of course, I do, mommy. If you let me suck one of them, I'll even pound your pussy to next Thursday," he smugly said.
Scoffing, you pulled one side of your bikini top, revealing your left tit to him and his jaw comically dropped. You could see from his eyes the way his pupils followed the movement hungrily as if being hypnotized and you couldn't help but laugh at him mockingly, "Oh my God, are you that affected by the sight of breasts? What are you, a virgin?" You taunted. Wooyoung's eyebrows furrowed and his lips pouted as his eyes darted to glare straight at yours, "How can I be a virgin? You've seen girls I slept with," he huffed with cheeks tinted slightly red. "Well you sure are acting like you've never seen a woman's naked body before which is so sad," you faked a pout before moving to reveal your other tit to him. You saw his chest shake as a rumble passed his throat and his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed his saliva. "Fuck, you're so hot," he whined, trying to reach for your body only to have you slap his hands away with a hiss, "Did I tell you that you could touch me without permission?"
Dissatisfied, Wooyoung whined loudly and was about to protest when he felt something tweaking his cock. "What?" you smirked, letting your finger tweak his tip again which caused him to choke on his breath a little. "Pathetic," you spat after clicking your tongue, expressing disappointment as you grabbed him from the base and squeezed.
He didn't know why, he didn't know how, but the combination of your treatment on him got him cumming on your hand. Your eyes twinkled with intrigue as you watched spurts of white liquid spray from his tip, hitting your exposed tits as his back arched with a slight tremble and his head thrown back. For once, you appreciated the sound he made; a whimpered moan that sounded slightly muffled as if he was holding himself back by keeping his lips tightly sealed. "Now, now, don't hold back on me," you teased, pinching the tip harshly. His thighs tensed from the sudden stimulation as his jaw slackened letting the voice he had held back finally out. You were not sure what but maybe it was the reality that you were being physically intimate with a man a lot younger than you or the possibility of getting caught by passerby separated by the tent because Wooyoung was being loud or a mixture of both, but you felt a pleasant chill ran down your spine straight to your aching cunt.
In his haze, Wooyoung barely noticed you crawling up and situated yourself on his lap, your heated but unfortunately still covered core pressed on his flaccid cock. Wooyoung's eyes rolled into his head when he felt you starting to roll your hips on him. The anticipation had eaten away through him and the barest minimum of contact made him almost nut right at that moment. But with sheer will, he pushed through and decided to enjoy himself first.
"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this," Wooyoung grunted as he felt his dick coming back to life almost instantaneously, "Fuck, I want to make my mommy feel good," he moaned shakily when he felt the wet patch on your bikini bottom rub against him, giving him friction from the friction and warmth. You couldn't deny the fact that hearing someone as young as Wooyoung lusting after you made you so aroused that you were practically clenching at nothing which was stupid because his cock was there and it wouldn't take much for him to get fully hard again. Even if he wasn't fully hard, you were sure that you could get him inside you without any issue. Why were you torturing yourself instead of torturing the guy under you?
At that point, you had had enough of messing around, you wanted him in you and you wanted him right then and there. Wooyoung's eyes followed your every movement like a predator watching its prey which was ironic since you hold the reigns. When you pulled on one of the strings of your bikini bottom, Wooyoung couldn't help but think of it like a present being opened because the moment your bare pussy came to view, he accidentally let a word slip past him. "Want," he whimpered with eyes still glued on your pussy like an idiot. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from saying something snarky because frankly, you were enjoying the attention. "Yeah? You want mommy's pussy, baby?" you teased, returning to rubbing yourself on Wooyoung.
With each movement, the fabric of your bikini bottom ruffled which allowed your bare cunt to make direct contact with Wooyoung's bare cock. The feeling and built-up expectation seemed to be too much for Wooyoung as his back arched and eyes rolled back into his head. You had to admit that you had never seen a prettier sight than the one that was oh so freely given to you by Wooyoung. Taking advantage of Wooyoung's state, you grabbed his hardening dick and positioned it at your entrance and began descending until your hip met his.
"Oh- fuck!" Wooyoung grunted, his body jolting which was followed by his abdominal muscles tensing as if he had just been punched in the gut, winded simply by your pussy. Seeing this, you could only smirk not just because you didn't want to ruin the moment but also because you thought that nothing could beat the cocky look on your face.
Wooyoung's pleasure doubled the moment you started moving against him. Your more experienced hips moved in a way that allowed his cock to slip in and out without slipping out but also kept your lower halves connected. "Shit- fuck, mommy!" he gasped loudly which prompted you to slap him and grab ahold of his cheeks in one hand. "Keep your voice down, Wooyoung, no one can find out what we're doing here," you hissed, leaning down close to warn him. You hadn't meant to be so harsh but that action seemed to rile Wooyoung up even more because once you let go of his face, a depraved smile appeared on his face and he let out a content sigh, "Fuck mommy, if only you'd let me let people know how good you're using me right now," you felt the soles of his feet planted flat on the surface of the daybed and he began meeting your thrusts which almost caused you to fall on top of him, "God, Jesus, you feel so good mommy, your cunt is so perfect, I want to never stop fucking it, holy shit," goosebumps shot up your spine when Wooyoung grazed his hands on the sides of your legs and they kept moving upwards until they settled on his chest. Your eyes widened and you instinctively licked your bottom lip when Wooyoung began tweaking his nipples.
Somehow the pace you both set never faltered but you felt Wooyoung thrusting into you harder than you had initially done but it wasn't like you were about to complain.
It didn't take long before you felt Wooyoung's movements become frantic and you realized that he was about to cum again. Before Wooyoung could do anything else, you reached forward and grabbed his face again, prompting him to look at you, "You don't get to cum yet, pretty boy, I'm cumming first and then you'll wait until I told you that you could cum." Wooyoung pouted and whined, "Mommy why? I need to cum, please." You had to think that he was purposefully being loud to get you to slap him again because when you did, you swore you could see him smirking. "Weren't you a good boy? You can make me cum just with your cock, can't you? Or are you that pathetic that the woman had to do everything, huh?" your taunts successfully egged Wooyoung as he determinedly thrust into you. His face was scrunched and his movements were sloppy, beads of sweat started trickling down his face and the lack of changing expression on your face seemed to frustrate him.
You casually slipped your thumb into his mouth and pressed down on his tongue, "Don't you give me that look," you scoffed, "You talk big but you can't deliver, huh? Pathetic." Wooyoung tried whining again but this time you pressed your thumb more onto his tongue, not caring about the drool that accumulated and trickled down the sides of Wooyoung's mouth.
Maybe deep down you had a thing for pliable brats because, for some reason, the sight of your harsh treatment on Wooyoung got you fucking yourself quicker and quicker until your cunt clenched down on Wooyoung as you came.
The sudden tightness sent Wooyoung reeling and he came inside you immediately. The release felt amazing and your grip on him allowed his cum to be fully stuffed inside you.
"Fuck," you panted, coming down from your high first, "Didn't I tell you to wait for my permission?" you scoffed once you finally managed to find your voice again. Chest heaving, you weren't really mad that Wooyoung disobeyed you because you had just experienced the best sex you've ever had, bar none.
"M' sorry mommy, so so sorry," Wooyoung babbled with a stupid grin on his face, eyes blinking back as his euphoria died down. "Yeah, sure you're sorry," you shook your head, not believing his words even slightly because he looked like pure bliss. You were no better though because had there been a mirror, you would've seen that you were also smiling genuinely. You could simply say that it was because you just had sex, but you had to admit that it was also because you had done it with Wooyoung.
Thinking that you were done, you slowly detached yourself from Wooyoung. But before you could even get off properly, Wooyoung had leapt forward and pinned your body down.
"Wooyoung!" you hissed, surprised and you immediately tried to sit up only for Wooyoung to push your body back down.
"I'm sorry for not waiting for your permission, I feel bad, really. So let me clean you up real quick, yeah?" there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that was accompanied by a knowing smirk before he lowered his face down to your cunt.
You were about to have another best sex ever, bar none.
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303 notes · View notes
milla-frenchy · 8 months
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Blackmail
4k5 | Javier Peña x fem reader x Joel Miller Summary: in exchange for his help to let Joel and you out of the QZ, a new soldier, Javier, asks him for something more than just ration cards Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dubcon. Cucking chair, praise kink, oral (f/m receiving), unprotected piv, rimming, anal, threesome, double penetration, creampie a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Kate, I can't thank you enough for helping me and beta-ing me. Thank you SO MUCH ILY 🫶🫶🫶❤️❤️❤️
Playlist | ao3 | series masterlist
Masterlist
Joel had to go pick up supplies from Bill and Frank. He had started to prepare his equipment for the next evening, and was waiting for the usual guard to give him the agreed Oxy pills. But another guard showed up at the appointment. A new one, arrived in the QZ a few weeks ago. Joel had seen him some times since then, and he didn't like his smugness.
“John was assigned to another position. He told me about you. You’re gonna do business with me, Miller, if you want to get out of the QZ tomorrow.”
Joel frowned. Annoyed by this unexpected situation, and having to deal with a soldier he didn't know, and whose smirk he just wanted to wipe off his face.
“And John thought I would trust a guy who just got here?”
“John and I were together in Kansas City, before he came to Boston. The KC QZ is down now, and I joined him here so that we work as a team like we did there. There are guys like you in every QZ Miller, don’t think you’re the boss.”
Joel smiled and said “you have a big mouth for a new guy. I'll check if John can vouch for you, and we'll do business if everything’s ok. Your name?"
“Javier Peña. Peña, to you” he said with a smirk. Joel thought Peña was an asshole and the worst part was he totally owned it.
Joel handed the usual ration cards to Peña, who laughed at him.
"Oh no. I'm not a softy like John. You’re gonna have to give me more than that if you want to get out.”
Joel’s nostrils wrinkled at this guy’s insolence.
“Your price?”
“Oh, no worries, it will cost you a lot less in resources.”
“Spit it out.”
"Your girlfriend. Tonight," Peña smirked.
Joel grabbed Peña by the throat and pushed him against the wall, but the man pushed him back.
“I saw you walking around with her in the area. You must be proud to walk around with a woman like that. You see I'm nice, it won't cost you anything in ration cards."
Joel smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
“You know Miller, I know enough about you to ruin your life here. Your small domination of the contraband market, if you don't want it to end, you'll have to review your priorities. And your possessions. It's up to you how much you need to get outta the QZ tomorrow night"
Joel was thinking fast. His desire to beat Peña’s face quickly gave way to his concern about rationing. Survival was complicated in the QZ, with Fireflies' bombardments creating a shortage of supplies. He looked Peña in the eye and said, “see you here in 2 hours”
“Sure, Miller,” the man replied with a smirk.
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Joel came back to the apartment, you were packing your backpack getting ready to leave for Bill and Frank’s. As soon as he entered, you saw that something was wrong.
“What’s going on?”
“John has been reassigned. A new guard took over. I stopped by at John’s before coming home, the guy is sure”
“Okay, what’s the problem then?”
"His price."
“Damn Joel, we’re almost out of ration cards. How much does he want?”
“He doesn't want cards. He wants… fuck… He wants you. Tonight”
You leaned back in your chair when you heard his words “son of a bitch…”
“We’ll think of something. We'll try to exit through another passage,” Joel said.
"You know we can’t, we already tried. Damn that motherfucker… what did you tell him?”
“That I'll meet him… in an hour now, at the usual rdv point.”
"OK. We’ll go meet him then.” You saw Joel’s look, and you explained to him: “we’ll try to find something else to offer him”
You looked at each other, gloomily. One motherfucker was screwing up your business, asking you the worst possible thing.
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When you arrived, Peña wasn't there. Just as you were about to leave, he showed up.
“You make us wonder if you’re serious, Peña. Will you be that punctual when you have to take us out?”
“When I take you out, we’ll be doing business. Here, we lay the foundations, right?”
He turned to you, and looked at you from head to toe.
“You’re pretty, Hermosa. Ready to do business with me?”
“We can offer you pills. Meds. What do you want instead of ration cards?”
“The problem, Hermosa, is that I don’t need any pills or meds. I'm not some junkie guard you can pressure in exchange for his fix. My offer is non-negotiable. Either we agree right now, or you take another path.”
He looked at you, then at Joel, smiled and said “Oh right… there ain't any other paths”
You looked at Joel who was clenching his fists, furious. And you said, “Okay. My terms.”
“Let’s see if you can be reasonable”, Peña replied, smiling
“Our apartment. Joel will be there the whole time. And it will only happen once.”
“Mmmm… I don’t mind the idea of ​​having an audience. But it will be in my apartment, no way I’m going to yours, what if it’s a trap. And it will happen once, okay. Once per exit. If you need to leave the QZ again, the conditions will be the same”
Peña looked at you, then at Joel. “Deal?”
You answered “deal”, with a crestfallen face. Joel nodded, his lips pursed.
"Perfect! Pleasure making business with you!” The soldier was smiling again. 
As you were leaving, you heard him say “Don’t fuck with me Miller”
Neither of you turned around.
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You walked home in silence. Once home, Joel let his anger out “No way. No way we’re letting him win this… that… That’s insane. As if you are a fucking commodity”
“Enough Joel”
“Enough? How can you be so calm?”
"We have no choice. Many women go through… this to get resources. I had to do it in the past.”
Your gaze softened when you saw Joel’s expression.
“I’m supposed to prevent this from happening, sweetheart”
“We have no choice, Joel. This bastard got us. But we’ll get out of this. And we’re gonna grab everything we need so we won’t have to go out before this asshole gets assigned somewhere else.”
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You arrived at Peña's apartment at the agreed time.
He opened the door, a cigarette in his mouth and a smile on his lips, and you saw him for the first time without his uniform and helmet.
Brown mustache, broad shoulders. Tight black shirt that showed off his biceps. Tight black jeans. Quite a handsome man, you thought. Telling yourself that it would possibly be more pleasant that way, before feeling guilty. 
Joel’s presence made you hope that he wouldn’t behave like a total psycho.
He let you in, and gave Joel a nod, to which he didn’t respond.
A bottle of whiskey and 3 glasses were placed on the coffee table in his living room. His apartment was clean and smelled good. Turning your head to the right, you saw part of his bedroom. His bed with white sheets. Looking good.
You swallowed your saliva, and said “let’s get it over with, Peña”
He smiled at you, and said “Javier for you. Javi even, if we get along”
You rolled your eyes and placed your hand on Joel’s arm, ready to explode.
Javier filled the three glasses and said "let's have a drink, we're not savages."
Javier was enjoying his drink looking at you, smiling.
Joel finished his quickly, tapping the glass against the table to set it down.
You drank yours in one go, in need of liquid courage.
Without taking his eyes off you, Javier told Joel to go and sit in the armchair in his bedroom, near the bed. Joel looked at you then walked towards Javier pointing his finger at him “nothing twisted. You hurt her I’ll tear you apart”
“Relax man. I'm here for her pleasure and mine. I never hurt ladies. Quite the opposite in fact.”
Joel looked at you again and went to sit in the assigned place.
Javier extended his arm in the same direction, smiling at you - without his usual smirk - to invite you to go to the bedroom.
Near the bed, you turned towards him and began to undress.
“Wow wow Hermosa. No rush.”
You stopped your movements and lowered your arms alongside your body, while Javi moved closer to you.
To your astonishment, he caressed your cheek with his hand, and kissed your other cheek delicately. His mustache brushed against your skin, it was silky and didn't sting. He smelled good. 
“You’re beautiful, baby”
You were confused.
“Listen, Hermosa. I’m not a freak. I won’t hurt you. I just want us to have a good time. Not just me, but you too. If you let me take care of you, maybe it will be more pleasant for you, and for me too. And your boyfriend sitting next to you might be able to relax too.”
Your gaze shifted from Javier’s eyes to Joel’s, who nodded. He also thought that it would be more pleasant for you if you could relax.
You thought about the times you had to have sex with men in exchange for equipment, ammo, meds. When you had to look at the ceiling waiting for them to finish, with the urge to vomit at hearing their grunts. And when, disgusted, you did your best to make them cum in your mouth as quickly as possible.
Ok…why not try something else and let him do as he said?
“Can I have another glass of whiskey?” you asked. 
“Of course, Hermosa”. He went to get the bottle and the three glasses, which he filled. You bottomed yours in one go, and said “Ok, Javier” using his first name to try to keep him in this rather… pleasant state of mind.
Joel had his 2nd drink.
Javier didn't.
Javier moved closer to you, unbuttoning your blouse, and brushing his hands over your breasts, going down to each button. You couldn’t help but shiver when you felt his touch, which made him smile.
He pushed aside the tails of your blouse and revealed your breasts in a bra. Their soft plus, spilling out.
“your breasts are beautiful Hermosa”
He took them in his hands gently, stroking their roundness, then slipped his hands behind your back to unhook your bra. He took it off and dropped it to the floor, before taking one nipple in his mouth and sucking it gently, your other breast covered by his warm hand. You moaned and closed your eyes under the effect of his mouth and his tongue. He was good at it. You opened your eyes, looking at Joel, who nodded again, and saw him readjusting in his jeans.
Your attention shifted back to Javier, who was unbuttoning your pants and then tugged them down to the top of your thighs. He slid his hand against your crotch and felt your wetness in your panties. He smiled.
He kissed you, first placing his lips on yours, and pressing your body against his. You felt the bulge of his crotch as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, mingling it with yours. You welcomed him with desire, his actions and words made you forget why you were in this soldier's bedroom, with your partner watching you, sitting in an armchair near the bed.
Javier grabbed the hem of your panties and pulled them down, getting on his knees as he grabbed your pants as well, before removing the entire thing from your ankles.
He looked at you and just when you thought he was going to get up, he ran his tongue over your pussy. You tensed and looked at Joel who had grabbed the arms of the chair. You shook your head “no”, telling him to stay seated.
No man you had to fuck for resources had ever eaten you out. They were there to fuck, and didn't care about your pleasure. This was… new. And even if the intimacy made you uncomfortable, the contact of his tongue was already having its effects.
"You're wet, Hermosa. Good"
And you couldn't help biting your lip and closing your eyes, as he continued to lick you gently, parting your pussy with his fingers so he could push his tongue deeper between your folds.
You put your hand over your mouth, holding back a moan. No one else had made you cum, besides Joel, in years. And you were now standing in front of a man who had blackmailed you, and whom you had met a few hours before.
Javier got up, and asked you in a soft voice to go sit on the bed. Then he took off his shirt, revealing his broad, hairless torso. He was handsome, muscular, but not too much. His broad shoulders made you want to curl up on them like a cat. 
Then he unzipped his jeans.
He approached you and you looked at Joel, who had a less… furious look than you thought. You looked at Javi’s crotch, he was hard. Before you could think about it further, Javi was in front of you.
“I won’t force you to suck my dick. But I really wish you would, when I see those pretty lips. Would you like to pull down my jeans and see if you like my cock enough to?”
Shit… you definitely didn’t expect the evening to go like that.
You placed your hands on his hips, and looked at the bulge that the jeans couldn't hide. He had a big cock. You started to pull down his jeans. He had no underwear. His cock sprang out, pointing up at the ceiling.
“Fuck…”
He smiled and said “come on baby, don’t tell me that this big guy doesn’t have a big cock too. Everything about him exudes cock domination. The big, strong, man everyone is afraid of”. But apparently not Javi.
You looked up at Javier then rolled your eyes.
You looked down at his cock again. Pink. A few veins, including a major one on the side. He was well groomed, his balls firm and… tempting.
The  thickness and length was equivalent to Joel's cock.
You hesitated for one last second then spat into your hand, before grabbing his cock and starting to jerk him off.
Joel in the armchair, was watching you from the side, then his eyes raised towards Javier who was caressing your cheek. His blood, which was boiling with anger, gradually gave way to the excitement. He never thought that would be the case, but seeing you seduced by another man, wanting another man, excited him. He felt more and more cramped in his jeans.
You grabbed Javier by the hips and pulled him closer to you, before running your saliva onto the tip of his cock. You placed your thumb and swirled it gently before starting to jerk him again. Then you brought your tongue closer, and licked his slit, tasting his precum, slightly salty. You moaned and took him into your mouth, gently sucking and licking his tip. His cock felt…good. The more you had his cock in your mouth, the more you salivated. You lowered your mouth to the edges of his tip, licking them with the tip of your tongue, before taking him entirely back into your mouth, this time encircling him with your lips, and starting a back and forth movement where you took him more and more into your mouth.
“Fuck Hermosa you… that’s so good”  Javier hadn't said a word for several minutes, your effect on him was that big.
Your hand that was placed on his hip came down to cup his balls. 
“Damn… you’re gonna kill me”
You were sucking his full length, your nose burying in his pubic hairs. You moaned, having forgotten the situation completely. You moved your mouth up from the base of his shaft to the tip, wrapping your lips around it, then you pulled him out of your mouth.
You couldn't resist tasting his balls. You looked up at him, the tip of your tongue level with the tip of his cock, and gently lowered it down to his balls.
“Mierda…”
You started to jerk him off again, and you licked his ball. Hairless. You felt it rolling under your tongue, before moving on to the second one. You licked them for a long time, moving from one to the other, before taking his cock back into your mouth and sucking his entire length.
Javier’s hands, previously resting on your head without applying pressure, began to press against your temples. He accompanied your movement, moaning, until he said “ok pretty girl, come lie down otherwise I’m gonna cum in your mouth”
You released him, licking his tip one last time, and lay down, looking at Joel. He had unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. Hands resting on the arms of the chair.
Javi removed his jeans and came to lie down, his head between your legs. “I can’t wait to have my mouth on you, the taste was delicious”
He parted your folds with his fingers, and without taking his eyes off you he ran his tongue over your wet pussy, from your hole to the clit. You moaned and said “oh god…Javi”, cupping your breasts in your hands. You spread your thighs to give him more access and you heard him say "mmm...you taste so good Hermosa...you're so wet"
You looked at Joel again. He held his cock in his hand and was jerking himself gently. He looked wrecked. He saw your gaze blurring with pleasure, and he gripped his cock tighter, continuing to jerk off.
Javi was still eating you out, running his tongue through your folds, then lingering on your clit. He gently rubbed against the mattress and you heard him moan. You felt his fingers caress your pussy, mingling with his tongue. Then he inserted two fingers into your soaking pussy, focusing on your clit with his tongue.
“I want you to cum on my tongue and on my fingers hermosa. Cum for me, I wanna hear you”
He turned his fingers to find your sensitive spot, you felt an incredible heat and pleasure rising from deep within your insides. He came to place a hand on yours, which was caressing your breasts, continuing to finger fuck you with the other, and to suck your clit with his tongue.
‘Oh Javi… Javi… I’m gonna come. Please continue. Oh my god.. Oh… Javi!!!”
You exploded in pleasure, your stomach tightening in spasms. He continued to suck on your clit gently, then when your twitching subsided, his tongue joined his fingers inside your pussy. He groaned as he licked all your juices.
He then moved away from your crotch, his mouth and chin glistening. He wiped them with the back of his hand, smiling.
"It doesn't surprise me that you want to keep her so much" he told Joel, but without insolence this time.
“I’m gonna fuck you now baby”
He lay down between your legs and took his cock in his hand, before inserting the tip into your pussy. He stopped at the entrance and kissed you languidly, his tongue searching for yours, then sucking it from his lips. While the two of you were still kissing, he slowly pushed in half of his cock, before pulling back and then pushing in again, this time bottoming out.
He groaned and started to fuck you. Slowly and deeply. You felt every nerve rubbing inside you. His rhythm was soft and sensual. He kissed your cheek, and watched you before kissing you again, softly.
Then he said, still looking at you “wanna join us Miller?”
You widened your eyes, before turning your surprised gaze to Joel.
“I can share. I'm sure the two of us would do you even more good. So?" he asked looking at Joel who was looking at you. You swallowed, and nodded at him. Joel waited a few seconds, stunned by the situation. Then he got up and took off his clothes, before moving closer to the bed. Javi pulled out of you, and said “take my place”. You looked at them and felt yourself getting even wetter.
Joel moved between your legs, stroked your hair with one hand, and entered you gently.
“Oh fuck… Joel…”
Joel closed his eyes from the pleasure he felt. Fucking you after Javier woke something animalistic in him. Feline.
His hips thrusts were almost as gentle as those of Javier, who had settled into the chair that Joel had occupied a few minutes before, jerking off.
“Do you like being shared like that hermosa?”
Your eyes locked with Joel's, you nodded “yeah… yeah I love that”
After a few minutes, Javi stood up and said, "on all fours, pretty girl"
Joel got up, and you settled on your hands and knees. Javi came to sit against the headboard in front of you, his cock clutched in his hand.
Joel put his hands on your hips, and thrust into you, picking up a faster pace this time.
You took Javi’s cock in ​​your hand, and began to suck him, to the rhythm of Joel's cock strokes.
“That’s good hermosa… you’re doing so well. Do you like that, having both of our cocks in you?”
You nodded, your mouth full of his cock. You worked hard to suck him deeper and deeper.
Joel groaned as he watched you suck Javi, and he started to fuck you harder. The pace kept you from taking as much of Javi into your mouth as you wanted, causing you to groan at the loss, and you focused on his tip with your tongue.
Joel slowed down and said "you wanna suck him sweetheart? All of him? Go ahead, suck him”
"Come on Hermosa, listen to your man. He wants you to feel good"
You grabbed the base of his cock, and took him back into your mouth, sucking up and down, deeper and deeper each time. Until he held your head with his hand, and told you "keep me warm princess"
Joel stopped and frowned, waiting for your reaction, to see if you wanted to back off or not. You didn't move, and kept Javi's cock deep in your throat until he released you.
“Good girl”, he said. 
You resumed your movement, and that time Joel grabbed your neck, holding you down on Javi's cock back down your throat, which made him smile.
Joel released his grip, but kept his hand on your neck, accompanying your movements.
Joel picked up the pace slightly again, making you moan under his thrusts. He slid his hand up to your clit, and brushed it gently, before rolling it under his finger. You moaned, Javi’s cock deep in your throat for the 3rd time.
“Come on, cum for both of us this time hermosa. Cum with his cock deep in your pussy and my cock in your throat”
Javi's words turned you on to the max, Joel stroked you just right to make you cum, and you moaned during the climax of your pleasure, your nose in Javi's public hair again.
Joel slipped out off you and said "fuck him now sweetheart". Javi slid underneath you to lay down, you took his cock in your hand and pushed him inside you. Both of you moaned.
Joel sat on his knees, staying behind you, and he spread your ass cheeks with his hands to watch Javi’s cock sink into your pussy.
“Fuck baby… I never thought it would turn me on so much to see you take a cock other than mine”
“Yeah baby? You like that?”
“Mmm mmm”
Joel leaned over your ass, and dropped his saliva on it. He placed his thumb on the ring, and began to caress you.
He told you “wanna try more baby”?
You turned to look at him, and said “Yes Joel…. Yeah” You looked at Javi, who said “fuck me…” with a surprised but delighted look.
Joel spread your cheeks, and licked your ass. Dripped saliva on it. Touched it with his thumb. Then he focused his tongue on it, working to roll it against your ring to relax it.
“Do you like it Hermosa? Do you like getting your ass licked?”
“Yeah… fuck… yeah i love that”
Regularly, Joel would pass your thumb over your ass, bringing it in gradually, spreading your buttocks as far as possible. The indecent position excited you immensely, coupled with Javi's cock ravaging your pussy.
“You have lube Peña?”
“Yeah 1st dresser drawer”. Joel went to retrieve it, opened the bottle and took a dab on his fingers, coming to apply it on your ass. His thumb went in easily now.
Javi gave you a boost for a few minutes, before slowing down to let Joel settle in.
“You’re naughty, baby… you know that?”
You licked his lips before biting them gently.
Joel opened the bottle again and applied lube to his cock, then he settled between your legs.
“Ready baby?”
“Yeah… go ahead Joel, fuck me”
"You often take it in the ass?" Javi asked. 
“Yes… but the double, it will be the first time”
“Ok hermosa, you’re in good hands”
Javi stopped, his cock buried in your pussy, letting Joel manage the pace. Joel pressed his cock against your ass, and began to thrust, your ring gently spreading as he went in. 
You felt every inch of your body acclimating to his shaft.
He pushed in slowly, grunting. Before pulling back, and pushing again. He started to move back and forth, until his balls hit against your pussy occupied by Javi's cock.
“Fuck baby… didn’t know you were such a slut.”
Each of them felt the other's cock through the thin wall of flesh.
Your clit rubbed against Javi, you felt your pleasure rising. Joel’s hands were fixed on your waist, Javi’s on your hips. You weren’t moving, letting your body sway according to their movements.
Looking up, you saw that Javi’s gaze was on Joel, watching him with a satisfied smile.
Javi looked down at your jiggling breasts and said, “Cum hermosa. One last time. Squeeze our cocks, make us cum in both your holes”
You kissed him, in a messy way, until your orgasm made you capsize. They gave you time to come back to yourself, then gradually increased the pace, until they were fucking you hard.
Javi said “I’m gonna cum…I’m gonna fill your pussy. You have an after pill, Miller?”
“Yeah go ahead. Fill her up”
Javi kissed you passionately until his moans became grunts, and you felt him shoot the jets of cum deep into your pussy. He pulled out, and you heard Joel's panting speed up.
Joel's hands tightened on your hips, and he froze deep in your ass, sending his hot cum deep into your insides.
He collapsed on your back, while you were lying on top of Javi.
Your breathing struggled to calm down.
Then Joel got up, and Javi followed him. 
You laid down on your stomach, and felt their cum dripping from both of your sore and swollen holes.
“Well… you deserve to go out of the QZ tomorrow,” Javi said, smiling.
Part 2
**********************
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murdockparker · 10 days
Text
Promises, Promises
Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: Five years is a long time to be together, Peter knew that. Peter also knew that everything was expensive—but he had an idea. A little juvenile, sure, but it was an idea regardless.
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: mentions of sex (no smut), reader is a nerd, Star Wars hot take?
A/N: I haven't written for Peter in a hot second, but I'm glad to get back into the swing of things ;) i'll see myself out now
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An old pop song blasted through the small shop, possibly from the eighties or nineties, it was hard to decipher, given that the boombox playing the song was probably older than she was.
“Do you need more toilet paper?” She asked across the aisle, hoping someone would answer back—a certain someone in particular. 
“Nah,” she could see a mop of brown shake from over the packages, “I just bought some last week.”
“Peter, if you’re lying to me and you’re out of toilet paper again I swear on all that is holy—”
“Babe,” Peter said softly, peaking around the corner, “trust me. It’s not gonna be like last time.”
“Oh? You mean the time I was stranded on your toilet while you ran out to buy some more?” She nearly had laughed at the memory, but decided against it, having far more fun antagonizing her boyfriend. “That last time?”
He went positively crimson, from his neck to his ears. He always looked good in red, she thought, but she liked this red the best. “I am one thousand percent positive—I think I still have the receipt in my back pocket.”
“You said you bought some last week though? You haven’t washed those jeans yet?”
Peter shrugged. “I haven’t worn these that many times since last week…”
She laughed at that, pulling a bag of chips off of the shelf. Changing her mind, she pulled another as well—her favorite and his favorite. “Okay pretty boy, I believe you. I also believe we’ll be making a stop to the laundromat tonight, too.”
“Can we do it tomorrow?” Peter groaned, grabbing the snacks from her and holding them close. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”
“Obviously you haven’t been in the mood for a week,” she rolled her eyes. “But sure, we can go tomorrow. Tonight, we feast like twelve year olds and binge our favorite movies.”
“How did I get so lucky?” Peter sighed, leaning up against the shelf, eyes locked on her. “A pretty girl willing to watch Star Wars, eat cheese puffs and date me?”
“Don’t forget the hot, hot sex you’ll have with the pretty girl after,” she winked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Speaking of—”
“Restocked those too,” Peter said proudly. “Bought them with the toilet paper—could show you the receipt if you want. Bet you’re glad I held onto it, right?”
She pushed him away, her nose scrunched up in disgust. “I take the offer of sex back, I’m still not over those dirty jeans.”
“I’ll shower!”
“Just buy the snacks,” she laughed, shoving him towards the cashier. “I’ll rethink my offer in the meantime.”
“Aye aye, boss,” Peter saluted, turning hot on his heels to the front. She couldn’t help but smile, watching him laugh with the bodega owner, pulling crumpled bills out of his pockets and pressing them against the counter. There was hardly anything that Peter Parker could do that she didn’t find endearing—find something to smile about. 
“Local news tonight, late last night in Manhattan, our favorite web slinger was seen assisting with directing traffic during the power surge,” a reporter on the T.V. in the corner of the store announced, the screen showed Spider-Man waving traffic along, webbing a car to stop before it crashed into another oncoming vehicle. “Local authorities showed up minutes later to take over, sans-webs.”
“Huh,” she clicked, feeling her smile grow wider. “He's been spending time in Manhattan?”
“Spider-Man gets around town,” Peter shrugged, finally returning beside his girlfriend, their purchases in white plastic bags. “Can’t always stay in Queens, can he?”
“Helps if Spider-Man goes to school in Manhattan, no?” She teased quietly, elbowing Peter lovingly.
“He had time after class,” his voice matched her own, low and slow, opening the door and finally walking out onto the street. “What? Was he expected to let everyone crash their cars while the stoplights went out?”
“No,” she hummed, noticing quickly how Peter took the outside of their strides, closest to the street. He always did that. The notion warmed her heart, the feeling flooding to her toes. “Good thing he was there to help out. I’m sure the police were thankful.”
He snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Okay,” she conceded, head falling onto his shoulder. “Yeah, that was dumb to say.”
The rest of the walk was silent, as silent as it could get in New York City, anyhow. Comfortable, the beats of the city passing by with every step towards Peter’s apartment, hands intertwined with the other. Occasionally, he’d tug her back and stop her from stepping into the street, clearly knowing she’s not paying attention to the changing pedestrian signs. She’d squeeze his hand back in thanks. 
“Have you thought more about moving in?” Peter asked, trying his best to unlock the door to his apartment, wrists heavy from the bags. “Y’know, I’m sure I can get you added to the lease if I asked.”
“Thought about it,” she hummed, gently taking the bags from him. “I just… your place is a bit small.”
“What?” He scoffed, finally pushing the door open and allowing her to enter. “You’re saying this luxurious suite is too small?”
It was comical, the timing of his statement. She could hardly turn her neck and she’d get a full view of Peter’s apartment—minus the bathroom. He could only afford a studio, and even then it was bursting at the seams, with all of his school work, his work work and his ‘unofficial’ work work, the place was a mess. He tried his best to keep it tidy, he really did. It was never filthy, just overrun by stuff. 
“Babe, you’re growing out of your own space,” she laughed, double checking she locked the door behind them—it had a habit of sticking. “How’d you think I’d fit in here?”
“Preferably on my lap, or in my bed,” he smirked. “But… yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s a little cramped.”
“It’s not that I don’t love you, or love spending time here,” (Y/N) clarified. “Hell, you’d think after all these years I’d have moved on if that was the case.”
“Has it been that long?” He asked rhetorically, opening the bags in the kitchen—if you could call it that. 
“I won’t even pretend to act insulted you’ve forgotten how long we’ve been together, Parker.”
“Time flies when you’re in love,” Peter nearly sings. “Five years is a long time, feels like just yesterday I was nervously asking you out.”
“I asked you out,” she corrected. “I know, I know, five years and a hell of a lot of brain damage from crime fighting can make you misremember—”
“No way,” he scoffed. “I distinctly remember sliding a note in your locker between classes. Super cute, very sappy, I might add.”
She hopped up on his counter, with what little space he had free, anyway. “Did you? You seem to be forgetting how I pulled you aside after science class and, very confidently, I might add, asked you out for milkshakes after school.”
“That was the day I left you the note,” Peter blinked. “I just assumed you read it and were moving the process along.”
“Wait,” she barked a laugh. “I thought you left the note after I asked you out?”
“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’. “Left it for you that morning, chemistry wasn’t until after lunch.”
“Huh,” she breathed, shoulders deflating. “I guess we both asked each other out on the same day.”
“Can’t believe it took us five years to figure that out,” Peter laughed, patting her thigh. 
“Knowing us? I’m surprised it didn’t take us ten.”
Ten years.
Ten years with her. 
The thought alone made Peter buzz with happiness. 
“We’re both pretty smart people,” Peter squeaked out, fighting his own body, hoping and praying a childish blush won’t give him away. “We would’ve figured it out before then.”
“I dunno, seems unlikely,” she opened a bag of chips, impatient to start their evening. “What are we starting with tonight? Phantom Menace?”
“We started with Phantom Menace last time, chronological order,” he scrunched his nose. “I think we should go by release order this weekend, just to shake things up.”
“Okay, nerd,” she said, her voice filled with affection. Hopping off the counter, she walked towards his couch. “I’ll go get A New Hope set up, then. You plate the snacks.”
“I’ll pull out my finest china,” Peter said. He opened the cabinets to find two bowls, one for each of the bags of chips. They were mismatched and two totally different sizes, but they were free from the old neighbors, so he made do.
“Y’know, I don’t think the debate between release order versus chronological order is all that great,” (Y/N) said, mostly to herself. “I mean, there’s a thousand other things Star Wars fans can get caught up in arms in, but the order in which to watch the movies? Oh no, someone man the Reddit boards! What a crock of shit. It doesn’t matter anyway, they’re all good movies.”
He chuckled, clearly amused by his girlfriend’s rant. “All of them? That’s a controversial opinion.”
“If I had a good time watching it, it was a good movie,” (Y/N) said simply. “Not everyone’s a critic.”
“Clearly.”
“Do you not agree?”
“I agreed the last time we had this conversation,” Peter droned, though not bored in the slightest. “Though, I will admit, I was perhaps a bit distracted, on account of your nakedness.”
“Our pillow talk gets heated,” she said, no hint of shame in her voice. “Only intellectual conversations afterwards, to ground us and all after… everything.”
“Because the sex is that good?”
“Because the sex is that good,” she agreed.
“Maybe I should plan that shower soon,” he grinned, walking over to his loving girlfriend. “Delay our marathon…”
“I didn’t walk all the way here just for sex, you know,” (Y/N) hummed, the couch shifting at Peter’s added weight. “An added bonus, for sure, but I came here to pig out and watch silly little movies set in space with my pretty boyfriend.”
“Pretty boyfriend?” 
“The prettiest,” she giggled, slipping a kiss to the tip of his nose. It’s not her fault he has such a kissable face—lips, cheeks, nose, wherever. “Big doe eyes, loads of freckles, smoochy cheeks—”
“Which ones?”
A pillow—one she had bought him months ago—met his face with a quick thump. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly smoochable,” Peter giggled, feeling lighter than air. “You said so yourself.”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice all thick and lovey, “I know.”
Peter looked at her like she held the world in her hands, sitting beside him on his old couch—one that they had both moved up the stairs together two years ago—he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Everything was right in the world, everything was right in his heart. 
“Are you gonna press play?”
He shook his head a bit, dumping his lovesick thoughts out of his ears. “Oh! Yeah, right. The movie.”
She pulled a blanket up on them, snuggling closer to Peter as the opening fanfare begun to play. With the text scrolling on the screen, one he hardly needed to read to know what it said given his near-memorization of the film, he felt at peace.
Mindlessly scrolling on his phone, it was usually how he spent his mornings, to wake himself up. He knew about the studies with blue light and stimulation of that sort of activity and wakefulness—having heard it enough from the party beside him, but he didn’t seem to care.
Apartment listings. 
She was right, his studio was too small for the both of them, and it was only fitting if they were going to start a life together—living with one another—that they had ample space. Besides, they were graduating within the year anyhow, so location wasn’t terribly important. In the city would be nice, given his… other occupation, but he could get used to living outside of Manhattan again. It was quieter, usually, and only by a small percent. Cheaper, too. Thank God for his scholarships, he wouldn’t have made it very far without them. 
She stirred next to him, pulling his comforter mostly off of him. He didn’t need it right now, anyway. Not when she was sleeping so soundly. He craved these weekends, when they both had a break from school and work—most of the time anyway. Peter Parker knew in his heart of hearts that he needed this every day. Perhaps forever. 
Forever.
That seemed so out of reach five years ago, but now? Peter simply couldn’t see a life without her in it. With their hectic schedules, his being all-encompassing, marriage was out of the question, at least for a few years. That’s why the apartment was so important to him, a piece of forever within their grasp. 
“Maybe…” Peter sighed, clicking his phone off, afraid to breathe louder than necessary. 
She didn’t seem to wake, anyhow. 
“Why do weekends here go by so fast?”
“At the laundromat?”
(Y/N) gave him a knowing glance. “Yes, Pete, weekends fly by here at the laundromat.”
“Come on,” Peter laughed, stacking his jeans—fresh out of the dryer. “It’s not so bad. They have those magazines you like.”
“Magazines from years ago—”
“There was that one from the eighties you found two months ago,” Peter pointed. “Stuck under one of the dryers?”
She smiled at the memory. “True. That was kinda fun. Seeing all the dated hairstyles and outfits was a treat. But you knew what I meant, use that big brain of yours.”
“It probably has something to do with the fact we like spending time with one another,” Peter began, patting the top of his laundry pile. “Y’know, makes the time go by faster.”
“Maybe,” she sighed. “I mean, logically, that’s probably the answer.”
“Logically? As opposed to illogically?”
“I could shove a sock down your throat right now, Parker,” she said seriously, holding up a balled up blue sock of his. “No one here would stop me. So cut it out with the smart ass-ness.”
Peter snorted a laugh. “Such a scary girlfriend I have, threatening me with socks.”
“Maybe instead of kryptonite like Superman, your weakness is socks? I need to capitalize on that venture before anyone else does,” she said, throwing the sock into the laundry basket. “Once I crack that code, I can sell it to all the big baddies of New York.”
“And maybe with all of the money you make, we could invest in a place for us,” Peter said.
“A house on the water,” she said dreamily. “Four bedrooms, an office—maybe one for both of us? Oh! An open kitchen sounds nice too, one with stone counters and fancy wood cabinets—real wood, not particle board. One of those farmhouse sinks?”
“If you share Spider-Man’s one weakness to all the big baddies of New York, don’t you think you’d have a hard time sharing a life with him after?” Peter asked, the sounds of the machines drowning out their conversation well enough. They practically had the whole place to themselves anyway, it seemed safe enough to talk about. “You know, considering that the spider is likely dead?”
“Hm…” she tapped her chin. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“We could start with an apartment, first,” Peter chuckled, throwing bits of his laundry basket into the washer. “I was looking at listings—”
“I thought you wanted me to move into your place?”
“We need a place of our own,” Peter said. “You were right, my studio isn’t going to cut it, and I want to spend more time together. Our weekends are the best time of the week, and any night I spend with you is a night where I actually get some semblance of sleep—for the most part, anyway.”
The entire laundromat lit up, Peter was certain her smile was the culprit. 
“You were looking at listings?” She asked shyly, digging through the basket to help Peter load the washer. 
“Most of it was out of our budget,” he admitted, “but it was a start.”
She hummed in agreement. “We’ll look together tonight, then.”
“Sounds perfect,” Peter grinned. “Oh! Could you double check my pockets? I keep forgetting change and stuff in them.”
“What about old receipts?” (Y/N) giggled, obliging to his request. She pulled a pair of khakis out of the basket, gingerly fishing her hand in the pockets. “I think I’m entitled to any change I find, Parker.”
“You can have whatever you find,” Peter agreed, his voice a little shaky. 
Turning the back pockets inside out, she found nothing in the first pair, throwing it unceremoniously into the washer. With a bit more haste, she rifled through the second pair—the pair she had bought him a while back. Her fingers came across something round and cool. Change, it had to be. 
“I think I just became twenty five cents richer,” she laughed, pulling the item out of the pocket, expecting a quarter. Instead, it was a smooth ring, delicate and without any stones, but still elegant. “What…?”
“It’s not a house on the water,” Peter started, looking down at the ring in her hands. “It’s also not a new apartment, but it’s a start, right?”
“Peter Parker, if you’re proposing to me in a laundromat—”
“It’s also not a proposal,” he corrected, “I’m gonna get you a better ring for that, I promise. Besides, it’s not very romantic here, is it?”
She looked up at him, his eyes staring into her own. Big and beautiful, that’s what she always thought of his eyes. Like they held the answer to every question in the universe, and in a way, they did. “It’s a promise ring?”
He shrugged, his ears growing a bit pink. “When you say it like that it sounds a little… middle school, but in a way, yeah, it is a promise ring.”
“Girls my age are expecting engagement rings,” she said, looking back down at the ring in her hand. It was her size, she didn’t even need to try it on to know it. How did he figure out her ring size? 
“I promise baby,” Peter stepped towards her, grabbing her hand, closing her fingers around the ring. “I’m gonna get you that ring. I just thought it’d be nice to have something to wear on your finger in the meantime—before we do real adult things like move in together. A-and this way, you can help me pick out your real engagement ring! I have a really good idea of what you like, but I don’t ever want you to look down at your hand and thing ‘man, I wish Peter chose this instead of this’, you know?”
“Honey,” (Y/N) said, looking back up at him. “You’re rambling.”
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m nervous.”
She chuckled. “How do you expect yourself to actually propose if you can hardly give me a promise ring?”
“Hadn’t thought that far,” Peter shook his head. “But it’s for you, I’m willing to do anything for you.”
He meant that. 
She knew he meant that.
“Am I supposed to put it on myself?”
Peter quickly scrambled to open her hand to grab the ring from her, nearly dropping the thing. “You want to wear it?”
“My boyfriend got me a pre-engagement ring,” she nearly rolled her eyes. “You expect me not to wear it?”
He pushed the ring onto her left hand, fourth finger. Peter gently lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lovingly. “I promise, you’ll get a better ring from me one day. S-soon! Like, as soon as I have the money, I swear to it, honestly.”
“Pete,” she placed her now-ring-clad hand on his face. 
“Right,” his shoulders deflated, “rambling. Sorry.”
She kissed his cheek. “It’s all very sweet and very you, Peter Parker. I love it.”
A dryer alarm buzzed, startling the both of them. “You do?”
“Well, I love you, and that’s enough,” (Y/N) smiled. “Besides, I like the idea of wearing a ring you got me—and the idea of helping you pick out the real thing? That basically sold the idea for me.”
“You’d say yes if I asked?”
“I agreed to your pre-engagement engagement ring, did I not? You’re not losing me that easily, Peter. I’m gonna hold out for the real thing.”
“We’ll go ring shopping as soon as we find a place,” Peter said seriously. “Move in, graduate, all that.”
“You’ve thought this through.”
“A lot,” Peter agreed. “Sometimes it helps to fill the time when I’m swinging around town. I usually am thinking about you, anyway, anytime of day.”
“That’s so crazy,” she said, voice teetering on sarcastic. “Because I’m usually thinking about you, too.”
“Pretty crazy,” he smiled, pulling her into him. With careful hands, he lifted her face towards his, a silent invitation. One she was more than happy to respond to. 
Kissing Peter Parker was one of life’s greatest pleasures, she was sure of it. Granted, she had really never kissed anyone else, high school sweethearts and all of that, but she knew it really couldn’t get better than this. The slightly chapped kisses, the way he would lick his lips when they parted, how he would nip at her bottom lip in protest if she thought about stopping the kiss too soon—it was all perfect. Of course, kissing in a slightly shady laundromat was a bit of a turn off. 
“Pete,” she said, pulling back.
“Can I not kiss my girlfriend?” He nearly begged, holding her against him a bit tighter. 
“I can’t be your girlfriend,” she said seriously. “I mean, not with this flashy new ring and all—seems a bit juvenile with that title, no?”
“What do you suggest?”
“Partners,” she shrugged, feeling him pepper kisses against her cheek, her nose. “It seems more grown up, anyway. Now, when I go into class or work and they comment on my ring I can say, ‘oh, my partner got me that’.”
“Babe, I’m your partner in anything,” he laughed, pressing his forehead against her own. “If you’d like to change our terms of endearment—I’m all aboard.”
“It’d only be for a short while, anyway,” (Y/N) said, smirking against his lips, capturing them in another kiss. “Then I can call you my fiancé…”
“Romantic.”
“Then my husband,” she teased. 
“Oh I do like the sound of that,” Peter nodded. “(Y/N) Parker has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“What about Peter (Y/L/N)?” (Y/N) asked, quirking her brow. “You could be progressive.”
“We could hyphenate?”
“Nah,” she shook her head. “Parker is a fine last name. A little basic, but perfectly suitable.”
“We’re kinda basic people, are we not?” Peter chuckled.
“Let me just go and ask your friend Spider-Man that,” she said seriously. “I’m sure he’d disagree?”
“Oh, speaking of!” Peter stepped away from her. “I need to wash… well, y’know—”
“It’s already soaking in the sink back at your place,” she said simply. “Trying to get all the dried blood off of it and all.”
Peter’s eyes nearly melted in affection. “What would I ever do without you?”
She smiled back in kind, a lovesick sort of way. “Not your laundry, that’s for sure. Come on, Parker, we’ve gotta finish this load. Sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go home.”
A rogue ray of sunlight hit her new ring just right, making the band shine brightly against her hand as she continued to throw his dirty clothing into the washing machine. “Yeah, let’s finish this up,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.”
162 notes · View notes
theglamorousferal · 1 month
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Tony keeps in touch with Harley post IM3.
Tony hacks into Harley's school to see what his grades are and it not clocking that he could literally just ask about it.
Tony keeping up with the Keener’s via twice monthly phone calls that turn into weekly ones that turn into Tony and Mrs. Keener texting back and forth.
Tony invites the kid to visit during a school break where they both just tinker with things. Harley is nervous at first until they meet up again and they start snarking back and forth.
At least one minor fire or explosion happens. If asked, neither know what started it. (Tony was wiring a gauntlet and Harley jokingly called him Dad when Tony told him he had to do his homework.)
The Keener’s visit for a week in the summertime, Tony has bought the lake house earlier to have a place away from people. Mrs. Keener and Pepper get along pretty well and both the kids like Pepper, so Tony counts it as a win.
Tony offers to pay for Harley and his sister's education and Mrs. Keener took him up on it because there was no way she’d be able to afford to send both her kids to college unless one of them got a free ride and Tony shows he cares by spending money and making sure those he cares about are safe and comfortable.
Harley spends the summer before his freshman year of high school with Tony. Tony finds a used classic car and they spend the summer rebuilding it and upgrading the engine to run clean.
Tony finds Spider-Man and finds out he’s a year older than Harley. Tony panics because here’s another kid genius but this one's in way over his head and will stay in over his head regardless of if he has support or proper equipment. Tony decides that no one else is gonna help this kid and give him as much protection as he could if he built him a suit, so he does just that.
Tony finds out about Midtown through Peter and approaches Mrs. Keener with an opportunity for Harley. (It's a genius school and it's practically a feeder to MIT, it'll be great.) Harley moves into the tower that Tony has kept here because he has reason to stay in the city.
Tony is a lot better at dealing with a kid because he's been hanging out with Harley so long, so he invites Peter over to meet Harley and have lab time. 
Harley just quips “so you’re my replacement?” to Peter and Peter immediately panicking and stuttering over himself while Harley howls with laughter.
Harley helps Peter learn to be more comfortable around Tony by roasting Tony for twenty straight minutes and after a month of lab days enlists Peter's help in making a program for FRIDAY to blast Barbie Girl when Tony has spent 24 hours or more in the lab.
Peter asks Harley to hang out with Ned outside of lab days. The three of them end up building a LEGO Deathstar and have drawn up the plans to be able to make it hover the next lab day.
Peter and Harley become thick as thieves and get to the point of that weird twin telepathy especially when it comes to being sassy.
One school break the three of them didn't go outside for the first four days, just spending most of the time in the lab so Pepper comes in and orders them to go outside for once my god Tony. Take them to your favorite burger place, I don't care, just be outside.
This leads to the three of them getting Pap'd. ("Yeah, I was out to lunch with my two interns, what's the matter with that?" is the quote above a picture of him laughing as the two boys pretend their straw wrappers are mustaches.)
This leads Tony to realize that he hadn't actually gotten the boys registered as his interns and remedies this immediately. (with backpay into a trust for each of them(Harley already gets an allowance, Tony has no idea how much is the proper amount to give to a 14 year old, and so usually gives him a few of whatever bills are in his wallet.))
Tony decides that now that they're officially employees of SI, that means they get to check out the place and so brings them down to R&D where everybody is immediately charmed by Peter and amused by Harley. The boys end up talking to the interns on the floor while Tony discusses the latest StarkPad.
One lab day both Harley and Peter look exhausted but Peter still showed up for lab time so they make their way there. Tony takes one look at them and asks FRIDAY to scan them, they both have fevers and he herds them into his living room.
Tony orders all the cold remedies he can think of to be brought up to the penthouse. Tony instructs the boys to pick a movie while he gathers blankets and dumps them on the boys.
Tony frantically texting Harley's mom and May asking them what he should do I've never taken care of a sick kid before, there are two of them, what do I do??
May asks Tony if Peter can stay the night because she's working a double that she can't get out of. He says yes if she can tell him what to do for sick kids because Harley's mom hasn't been able to respond.
Tony ends up joining the boys on the couch after forcing each of them to take cold medicine and thrusting a bowl of chicken noodle soup into each of their hands. Tony's in between the boys.
Over the course of WALL-E each boy begins to sag eventually trapping Tony on the couch. He's got one drooling in his shoulder and another drooling on his thigh. He asks FRIDAY to take several pictures before going back to his work on his StarkPad.
This starts Peter staying over whenever May is working night shifts. Then staying over every other weekend. Then Tony invites May and Peter to go on vacation to the lake house for a few days in the summer.
The Keener family is also present and May, Pepper and Mrs. Keener get on like a house on fire. Peter loves playing with Abbie with Harley. Three group chats are made that day. The adults in a co-parenting chat, the ladies in an exasperated with our geniuses chat and the kids in a sass and meme chat.
Just, Tony becomes a dad to two brilliant boys (and maybe one of the boy's baby sisters too depending how you want to write her).
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ktsumu · 4 months
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RESOLUTIONS (this year is different) tw: alcohol consumption
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This year, you wait for January in an apartment that is packed full.
You’re familiar with everyone, for the most part, all people who have played with Ushijima over the years, all people you’ve watched in one jersey or another. Everyone is laughing, happy — even Wakatoshi himself who, normally quite reserved, laughs with one of his teammates, a glass half-full in hand.
This year is different, you tell yourself. 
You know that, whenever you're all drunk enough to call it a night, you’ll call a cab and go home, probably kiss on the way there. He’ll lean on the bathroom counter and giggle while you smear your makeup away with a wipe, then take it from you and do it himself. He’ll be so much worse at it, but he’ll be gentle, and you’ll let him.
This year, you’re going to let yourself be loved. You’re excited to let him.
You watch Wakatoshi from your place on the couch, a small smile on your face. Happy looks good on him; he’s handsome when he’s free. His smile gives him lines around his mouth, his eyes crinkle. His laugh is saccharine. 
He doesn’t notice you’re watching, either, it’s not often he does. It’s not hard to be subtle — your eyes typically find him, anyway, golden boy wherever he goes.
This year, I’m going to let myself be loved.
You met him years ago, sort of in a situation like this. You were both in a bar in Tokyo, you think, and he stuck out like a sore thumb; freshly twenty and new to this, surrounded by teammates who made it obvious he’s never been to a bar before.
They also made it obvious he was new to a lot of things, likely why they made it so obvious in how they were jabbing his side with their elbows, nodding to you sat a few seats down. Go talk to her, she’s totally into you, she’s pretty!
(He didn’t even talk when he first sat down — you offered him a shot he probably needed and he took it.)
The rest is history.
It feels weird to think about going home. Home. You live with him, the bills get paid. He has smile lines and stretch marks on his shoulders. He’s going to take your makeup off for you because he’s seen you in every way you come. You have a house and you have a home — your friend said she thinks he might propose this year.
Growing pains are scarier when they’re not in your knees.
You only notice he’s moved when the couch sinks beside you. Wakatoshi sits next to you, a close-lipped smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he rests a hand on your thigh.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and it’s just the two of you.
You look over his face, his flushed cheeks. You smile, too. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Wakatoshi is gentle when he guides you towards him, his hand on your nape, kissing you like you’ve never done it before. He tastes like Tennessee, and like a resolution. 
This year, I’m going to kiss him more.
“I love you,” he murmurs. “I’m glad I’m here with you.”
Whatever dread you carried before, it’s going away now.
“You are?” you tease, pulling back to really look at him. An anonymous hand walks by and ruffles his hair, like he’s scoring his first girl, and carries on. He doesn’t look up. 
“Very.”
“Mm,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I guess I’m glad I’m here with you, too.”
“I mean, I would hope so.”
“Hah,” you snort, “I’m excited to go home, too.”
He scoffs, as if he isn’t typically the reserved one; as if he wasn’t the one you had to convince to make a show here. “You want to get out so soon?”
“What, you’re not excited to deal with me at home?” you giggle, craning your head to look up at him. “Not excited to spend, like, a fat hour getting ready for bed?”
He snickers again, taking a sip of his drink. He squints like he drank it too quickly. 
“Like last year?”
“Yup. Except, I don’t know about the last part. I’m gonna pass out the second I hit the mattress, ‘Toshi.”
“That’s okay, I’ll tuck you in.”
Your chest warms, and you both laugh. One of you starts it, but you don’t remember who.
“You’re gonna tuck me in and take my makeup off, huh?”
“Like last year,” he confirms. “And get you water — get us both water,”
“Mm, you’ll need it, big guy.”
“I am fine.”
“Yeah, I know. As long as you can see where my face is, that’s good enough for me.”
“I can find it blind,” he says simply, smoothing your hair back and out of your face. “But yes, I can see it fine.”
You smile all crooked — he tilts his head like he wants to see it upright. 
“We’re gettin' older, huh ‘Toshi?”
“That is how years work, yes.”
“Going home,” you say; your thoughts are all out loud. “Going to bed.”
He smiles — he loves it. “Unless you want to stay out?”
“No, no, I want to. I’m just,” you take a deep breath, “thinking. This’ll be how many years?”
“Not enough,” he says simply. “I wanna do this forever.”
“Hah, well, I have no doubt your body could sustain years of New Years Eve parties—”
“I meant going home,” he interrupts. “Taking off your makeup, getting you water, and kissing you goodnight.”
Your heart swells to the point of being uncomfortable, the lump in your throat impossibly there. His hand hasn’t left your thigh, it hasn’t risen higher, it just sits there. His touch is warm like a swaddle, unmoving. It’s so familiar that you lean into it like you're being carried to bed.
Wakatoshi grins; it’s crooked and you tilt your head to see it upright. “Every year, I think I love you a little more.”
(The dread you had is gone now — why you ever had it, you don’t know for sure.)
This year is different, you tell yourself. This year, you’re gonna grow.
There’s a cheer throughout the room, all this laughter becoming a dull muffle when the room seems to reach the sound capacity the little space has. There’s kazoos, glass clinking, goofy hats falling to the floor — people are singing:
“Happy new year, love,” he murmurs, and he captures your lips again.
This year, I’m gonna grow.
I’m gonna let him love it, and maybe I’ll love it, too. 
200 notes · View notes
succubusmunson · 1 year
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You're Mine
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Eddie is tired of the men at your job and decides to take matters into his own hands, to show you that you're his.
Warnings: SMUT (minors DNI), mentions of a bar fight/blood, posessive!eddie, use of pet names, semi public sex, teasing, oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, degradation, praise, fingering, squirting, ball play, orgasm denial, spanking, hair pulling, choking, creampie
WC: 4.1K
(first fic in a bit! hope yall enjoy!)
Remember to reblog and support the author!
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You could feel Eddie’s eyes follow you around the bar, watch every move you make and the men make. This wasn’t the first time he had caught men obviously flirting with you, slipping their hand around your waist as they asked for another beer or shot you a wink. 
For the most part, Eddie kept his composure. You could tell he was angry by the grip he had on his beer, his knuckles turning white. What set him over the edge though was the second some random slipped a twenty dollar bill into your back pocket, swatted your ass, making a whole show about how he got to touch you.
You nodded and just gave the man a tight smile, trying your best not to slap him silly. You already know what’s coming for him, Eddie already standing up for the barstool. 
“Fuck this.” Eddie takes the last swig of his beer before he stomps over to you. He grabs the hand that’s on your ass and bends it back, laughing when the man winces in pain. “Do you like touching things that don’t belong to you?”
It all happened so quick after that- punches were thrown, and you were in complete shock. Not shocked that Eddie was causing a scene, shocked by how wet you were becoming after seeing Eddie beat a guy up for touching you.
He had a bloody nose, it dripping down his lips. He licked away, a smirk on his face. “Next time, watch your fucking hands.” Eddie grabbed your hand and gently dragged you out of the bar.
“Baby, I still have to work.” You tried to protest, even though your body wanted to be closer than him. 
He scoffed, opening the van’s back doors. “I think that little fight may have just got you fired.” He helped you inside, your back immediately hitting the van floor. “Plus, I need to show you who you belong to.” 
Eddie quickly jumped in after you, slamming the doors behind him.
You leaned up on your elbows to get a good look at him. “Oh, is that so?” You were toying with him, knowing that it would make it more fun for you. “Do I need reminding?”
“You wanna play that game?” Eddie was already shaking off his vest and leather jacket, leaving him in just his old jeans and a band tee. “I think you need all the reminding you can get,” he leaned over you, his whole body engulfing yours. His lips were pressed by your ear, your breath fanning over it. “Need to remind you who can exactly make you cum as hard as you can, sweetheart.”
Eddie has barely even touched you, yet you were craving more. Just having him this close, pressed to your body was having your cheeks heat up and your thighs clenching together. He’d always have this effect on you, but you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to it. 
“Trust me, I know how hard you can make me cum.” You bucked your hips up, grinding against his thigh. You needed to feel something, anything. “But, why don’t you show me anyways? I know how much you love when I make a mess for you.”
His bottom teeth caught his bottom lip as you grinded against his thigh. There was no doubt in his mind that you were soaked and he sensed it. Sensed that you needed more of his touch. 
“I’m gonna show you, don’t worry.” He kissed his way from your ear to your lips, licking along your bottom one.
It was sloppy, tongues rubbing against each other and teeth clanking. The beer and cigarette he had earlier lingered on his tongue, letting it flood your tastebuds.
You didn’t complain though, you loved the taste.
Eddie was selfish with this kiss, sucking the air from your body and claiming your lips as his. When he pulled away he gave you a soft smile. He looked at you as your lips were swollen and wet, pouting out for more.
In a swift movement, Eddie had your pants and panties down your legs, throwing them to the side and forgetting about it. His thumbs spread your pussy lips apart, your slick connecting them. His brown eyes stared down at awe at the fact that you were so wet this quick. 
“I’ve barely even touched you and you’re this wet?” He kissed your inner thigh, biting down and sure to leave a mark for later. “What did it for you? Was it me fighting that guy?” 
Your fingers tangled in his hair, looking down at him with hope in your eyes. He was so close to where you wanted him and the urge to just grind on his face was slowly taking over. “Uhuh, you looked so fucking hot and I couldn’t help myself.”
Eddie playful scoffed, the cold air from his breath hitting your swollen clit. You slightly arched your back, the feeling making you needier.
“How pathetic.” His calloused thumb barely ghosted over your hole eliciting a moan from you. “Is this my pussy?
“Y-yes, yes, it’s yours.” You maintained eye contact with him as you said it, wanting him to know how much you meant it. 
Without warning, he curled two fingers into your pussy. You could hear just how wet you were, and feel it too. The squelching sound echoing off the van walls. 
“I can’t hear you, baby.” He kept curling his fingers, hitting your g-spot with each thrust. To add fuel to the growing fire, he wrapped his pink lips around your clit, sucking harshly. 
You threw your legs over his head and pulled at his hair. “S-shit, Eddie! Yours! I’m yours, every part of me is yours.” You could barely catch your breath. 
Eddie pulled his mouth away with a pop!, a huge smirk plastered on his smug face. “Now, was that so hard?”
He didn’t give you time to answer, his lips finding home again around your clit. The moans were just flowing out of you now. His fingers hit deeper and deeper with each curl. You could feel the fingers of his free hand dig into the doughy flesh of your thigh, leaving behind little crescent indentions in their wake.
The shaking of Eddie’s head, the pulling of your clit was making you see stars. 
“Jesus Christ-,” your back was completely arched off the van floor. Could you finish a thought at this moment? Barely, it’s like you were exploding from the inside out.
You quickly took off your shirt and threw it behind you, Eddie’s free hand finding one of your nipples and giving it a pull. “Y-yes! Right there!”
Eddie pulled away from your clit again, his chin covered in your slick. “Yeah? Here?” He leaned forward, adding another finger before attaching his lips to your hard nipple. 
Between his fingers and his mouth working on you, you knew that your orgasm would come quickly, and that it did. 
You heard it before you felt it. All the built up tension finally let go as you squirted over Eddie’s fingers. “Oh my god! Fuck.” You threw your head back, barely able to hold yourself up. 
“That’s it, fucking squirt for me.” Eddie’s fingers kept moving, not letting up once even after you came. “Such a messy girl.”
“I- holy shit,” you finally opened your eyes, Eddie’s jeans covered in your squirt. 
You blushed at him, even more so when he pulled out his fingers and licked them clean. Not a drop left to be seen. He didn’t give you time to react much more, his fingers sliding against your tongue. “Taste how good you are for me.”
With greed, you licked the wet fingertips with your tongue. Making eye contact with him the whole time, you slid your tongue between his first and his middle finger, collecting what you could. You could hear his breath hitch in his throat as you sucked his fingers further into your mouth, gagging a little. 
“Fuck,” Eddie watched you, the way your bobbed your head to suck on his fingers. As he watched you swallow his fingers, his cock grew harder, if that was even possible. “You want something in your mouth that bad?”
You pulled away and nodded your head fast, maybe too fast. “Yes,” you sat up as best as you could on your knees and pushed Eddie to his back. “Let me suck your cock, please.” 
“Look at you, begging for it.” He grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail and pulled you closer to him, forcing your head right in front of his front bulge. “You want it? Take it.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, excitement running through your body. Quickly, you undid his belt, pulling his shirt up just a bit to kiss over his happy trail. You could feel his stomach muscles tighten under your touch.
With his pants now pooled around his ankles, you could tease him. You kissed down his happy trail, stopping right above his boxers just to make him squirm. 
“My cock isn’t going to suck itself,” the hand in your hair tightened, causing you to bite back a moan. “You’re the one who wanted my cock so bad, remember? I’m giving it to you, don’t make me regret it.”
Eddie lifted his hips, helping you pull down his boxers. His very hard cock sprang forward, slapping against his stomach with a wet sound. His cock was red, throbbing, and leaking with precum. Your mouth watered, needing a taste that bad.
He grabbed the base of his cock, tapping the tip of it against your lips. “Open wide for me, baby.” 
You did as told, not ever needing to be told twice. You rolled your tongue over the leaky slit, collecting the salty precum and swallowing it with a smile on your face. “You always taste so good.” Your lips trailed kisses across his cock, pressing them to his most sensitive places. 
Eddie grabbed the back of your head, holding you in place. “There we go, that’s a good girl.” 
You sucked on the mushroom shape tip, hollowing your cheeks, and closing your eyes. Eddie threw his head back against the small pile of clothes, basking in the feeling of your warm mouth. “Shit, your mouth was made to have something in it.”
The way you bobbed your head, his cock sliding down your throat, he was in heaven. 
You gagged around his cock, tears slowly falling down your cheek but you kept pushing. Wanting him to use you like a fleshlight. 
His cock hit the back of your throat and he moaned out, pulling at your hair to push your head deeper. You could barely breathe with how full your mouth was, stuffed to the brim of cock. So into pleasing him that you forgot to breathe, your lungs burning for air. 
“O-oh fuck, baby.” His voice was high pitched, his balls wetly settling against your chin as he bucked up into your mouth. He pulled your head up, giving you a chance to breathe and for him to catch how ruined your makeup was. 
Salvia trailed from your lips to his cock, connecting the two of you. “Don’t forget to come up for air now.”
You just rolled your eyes and attached your mouth back to his cock, giving him no time to protest. Your hand reached down between his legs and the second you cupped his balls into your warm hands, he almost came right down your throat. He leaned up off the van floor to watch you, his brown eyes hooded and dark with lust. 
You had him in the palm of your hands, literally. 
Kissing down his cock, you licked the thick vein on the underside of it. Mentally, you pat yourself on the back when you hear Eddie gasp. 
“Think these need some attention, yeah?” You winked at Eddie before sucking one of his heavy, cum filled balls into your mouth. 
Eddie’s hold on your hair tightens, making you whine with his ball in your mouth. “Let me see those eyes.” 
You looked up at him with hazy eyes. Your makeup was smeared, spit pooled at the corner of your mouth. Eddie’s cock rested on your forehead, you looked so wrecked. Under his gaze, the glassy eyes and desperate whines were simply perfect, a heavenly sight. His passion for ruining you broke every limit inside his head. Eddie was addicted to turning you into a wet, sticky mess.
The second you grabbed his cock to pump it, you could feel the throb of it in your hand. You sucked the other ball into your mouth, keeping up the pace of your hand. 
His balls bounced in your mouth from how fast you were pumping his cock. You squeezed at the tip and felt more precum dribbling, coating your fingers in a sticky mess. 
“Mmm,” you couldn’t say much, your mouth stuffed, but the taste of Eddie was just too good to be quiet about. 
Nothing could compare to the feeling of his soft but heavy balls hitting against tongue, causing spit to splash across your face. 
With Eddie, you were always willing to get messy. You never cared, always wanting to please him. 
You pulled away, rolling your tongue to give his balls something to bounce against. Eddie could barely concentrate on anything, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. “My good slut- fuck.”
The schlick sound of Eddie’s precum mixed with your spit was the only thing that could be heard. Eddie couldn’t even let out a moan, his brain completely fuzzy. 
Just before he was about to cum, you pulled off with a pop! and a mischievous smile on your face. 
“You think that’s funny?” Eddie used his strength to push you onto your back, his body pressing into yours. He grabbed your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “I asked you a question.” 
“So funny.” You pulled his shirt off the rest of the way, tracing your fingers down his chest. “Don’t you think it’s funny?” 
Eddie gripped the undersides of both your thighs, pushing them back until your legs were pressed to your chest. He had you folded up as if you were a pretzel, and you loved it. “Let’s see how funny you find it when you’re begging me to cum.”
You bit your lip in anticipation for what would come next. Eddie was the only one who could leave you speechless, snatching your breath away. He was a box of surprises.
He tapped the hefty tip of his cock to your clit, a whine escaping your lips. “Eddie…” You were desperate to feel him inside you, to feel his cock throb and ruin your hole.
Playfully, he scoffed and smacked at your thigh. “Look, you’re already begging for it.” He slowly slid just the tip into your soaked pussy, letting you get a small taste of what was about to come. “God dammit, you’re always so tight for me.”
You grabbed at his forearms, trying to hold yourself as best as you could. He was barely inside of you and your body was already craving more, wanting him to ruin you. “Please fuck me. Can’t you feel how bad I need it?”
Eddie dropped your legs, giving you a chance to wrap them around his waist and pull him deeper inside you. “Oh my god, yes. Just like that, Eddie.” 
Your eyes closed slowly at the feeling of him filling you up, balls deep.
“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” His teeth were clenched, your pussy clenching his cock and taking him for all he had.
He slowly pulled out, only to quickly slam back in. His thrusts were knocking the wind from your body. The only thing you were able to do was to grip at the van floor behind you, looking for anything to steady yourself.
“Yeah, fucking take it.” Eddie rested his forehead against yours, watching closely as your face showed just how much you loved his cock driving into pussy. “This is what you wanted, huh?”
“Uhuh! I wanted it so bad.” It felt like you were on fire, Eddie’s cock hitting the right spot each time.
You felt his ringed hand grip at your neck, giving it a tight squeeze just enough to cut off some of your air. “Say my name.” 
“I-,” your mind was blank, the only thing you were able to focus on was the pleasure coursing through your body.
“I fucking said,” Eddie pulled out and slammed back in, this time hard enough to jolt your body. His balls squished against your ass. “Say my fucking name.”
Your nails raked down his back, red lines following them. “Eddie, fuck.”
He laughed sadistically, his hand slapping at your cheek. It stung, but you liked the pain. 
“I can’t hear you, pretty girl.” Eddie gripped your chin and forced your eyes to look at his face. His hair was a sweaty mess and his cheeks were flushed. “I want everyone inside that bar to know who is fucking you so good for everyone- shit, for everyone to know who you belong to.” 
The second he let go of your chin and pinched at your clit, you let out a throaty moan of his name. “Eddie! Baby, oh my-.” His name fell from your lips over and over like a prayer. The melodic mewls only fueled his need, you were his favorite tune
“That’s my good girl.”
You could barely hold it on any longer, the pleasure flooding your body. Your orgasm was fast approaching, your toes curling and your legs shaking around Eddie’s waist; but he wasn’t having it, not yet.
He quickly pulled out, just as your pussy gave him one last clench. You were trying to catch your breath enough to complain to him. 
“Not that funny now, is it?” He gave you a toothy grin before leaning down and giving you a wet kiss. 
You bit his bottom lip, hard enough to probably draw some blood. Eddie groaned inside his mouth, loving the feeling of you biting his lip and his mushroom tip cock nudging at your clit. 
As your tongue rolled against his, you tangled your fingers into his hair, giving a nice tug. His teeth pulled at your bottom lip and let it plop back into place. 
“Can I cum now?” You reached between the two of your sweaty bodies to grab his cock, softly massaging the tip. “Don’t you want to feel it?” You batted your eyelashes at him knowing he can’t resist when you do it. 
With ease, Eddie grabbed the curve of your hip and flipped you over. Your knees now pressed to the floor and your ass pointed into the air. 
Eddie’s hand ghosted over the globe of your ass, smoothing your supple skin. “Never gonna get over this view.” He raised his hand back and gave you a nice spank, making you whine and squeeze your eyes shot and the slight sting. “Can’t wait to see this bouncing on my cock.”
You swayed your hips back and forth, barely feeling his cock against your skin. Just the brush of his cock against your clit was enough to make your skin crawl in such a good way.
“I need you inside me,” you reached between your legs and grabbed at his cock, running it through your folds. Your mouth went dry at how sensitive you were, feeling as if you might already cum. “Just want to be full of your cum.” 
“Yeah?” Eddie swatted your hand away and grabbed at your hips. He pulled you back and lined himself up perfectly with your wet and needy hole, sliding in until his balls were pressed right against your clit. “Shit-“
You hid your face in your hands, muffling your sounds. “Yes, you fill me so good!” Eddie’s cock fit perfectly inside you, this position making him hit deeper than before.
“Don't be so shy now. You weren't when you were begging for my cock, pathetic slut." His rough hand grabs a handful of your hair, lifting your head by it so he can hear you clearer. "Now, if you want to cum, I’m gonna have to hear you, sweetheart."
You let out a soft whine when Eddie slowly pulled out of your pussy, leaving just the tip in. You could feel each vein on his cock and just how it throbbed for you. 
With his other hand, Eddie grabbed your hip and pulled you down into his cock, letting out a groan. “T-told you I wanted to see your ass bounce.”
Slowly, you rolled your hips, looking for any sort of rhythm. You were so ready to cum before, but you knew if you even tried it without permission, it would make things harder for you. 
“Y-you’re so deep.” Each bounce or roll of your hips was sending Eddie’s cock right into your g-spot. Your toes were curling and you clenched around his cock, hoping to make him stay right at that spot. 
“Fuck, squeeze my cock just like that, baby.” Eddie pressed his sweaty forehead against your back. He placed gentle kisses along your skin, his teeth scraping at it just a bit. “Being so good, taking my cock like a good girl.”
That name had you letting out a pornographic moan, like your breath was being pulled from your lungs. “Say that again, please…” 
“What?” Eddie knew what you meant, he just wanted you to wait longer. 
He kissed his way up to your ear, his teeth now nibbling on your earlobe. He lowered his voice, just enough that it was barely a whisper. “Good girl.” 
Just as the words left his mouth, he thrusted into you. He wasn’t letting up either. His hips were pistoning, his cock driving into you, making you drop all over him and mess a mess. 
“Yes! Right there, Eddie- oh my god.” You could feel it, feel your orgasm coming. “Please let me cum! I-.” Your thighs were shaking, not able to finish your sentence.
Eddie was just out of breath as you, your pussy was taking him for all he had and he was willing to give it. “Tell me who you belong to again, baby.” He wrapped a hand around your body and quickly found your clit, rubbing fast and tight circles. “Tell. Me.” 
“I belong to you!” You barely finished your sentence before your whole body shook. You could feel yourself squirt onto his cock, all over his balls, and down your legs. The burn in your throat from moaning didn’t hurt, pleasure consuming you. The feeling didn’t stop, even after your vision had gone completely blurry. 
You clenched around Eddie’s cock as you came, pulling the deepest groans from him. “Milk my fucking cock, baby.” The grip he had on your hair tightened and you knew he was close. “Gonna fill you up, I know you’d like that.”
He throbbed inside you, your pussy milking just like he said. "You don't even have to answer. You're just a needy slut who wants to be nothing but cumdrunk." Somehow through all this, he kept his composure. His own orgasm is important to him now.
You nodded your head, your voice too hoarse from before. 
One more slam of his hips had Eddie spilling into you, filling you completely up until it was dripping out of you. “F-fucking take it.” He let go of your hair and grabbed both of your hips, digging his nails into the skin. “Just like that, y-yeah.”
He stayed inside of you until he had nothing left, being too weak to move. 
You fell to the van floor below you, your body spent and your pussy sore. “That- that was amazing.” You slowly turned your head to the side and saw Eddie smirking down at you, his eyes droopy and his skin red. “You’re amazing.” 
Eddie slowly pulled out and watched his cum drip from your pussy, a proud smirk on his face. “Don’t think we’re done just yet.” He looked for the clothes that had been thrown around earlier. “But we should get out of here before someone calls the cops from all the screaming you’ve been doing. 
“We aren’t done?” You looked at him with confusion written all over his face. Hadn’t you proved to him that you belong to him already or was he just toying with you and your pussy?
He leaned over and kissed your forehead, a total contrast to all the things he had just done to you. “Oh no,” he shook his head and laughed at the dumbfounded look on your face. “We aren’t going to be done until you’re crying on my cock and begging me to stop.”
As sore as you were, you felt yourself get wet all over again just from the thought of what he had planned. You were in for a long night, but you and your body are always willing to take whatever Eddie had in store.
tagging: @simping-over-boys-with-trauma @athenamunson1 @corrodedcorpses @hazzaismyreligion @devilcherryhot @milesthemenace @becca-alexa @somethingvicked @munsonology @eddiemunsonfuxks @abigailh-a @miarosso @foreveranexpatsposts @griffienn @angelina16torres-blog @eddiethesexy @chickennug90 @hbaramas @forksloree @stardustmunson
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tennessoui · 9 months
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kit's list of obikin fic recs in no particular order
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y'all asked and i finally answered.....here's a list of fics i've read and adored this year! note that i've tagged things that i think could squick people (a/b/o dynamics, weird biology, dub con, heavy kink, etc), and i've noted the ratings (explicit, mature, teen), but i have not noted top/bottom (this list contains a pretty even split of both) and i haven’t indicated which are WIPs - take a chance! i've left little paragraphs as to why i liked the fic but i tried to keep spoilers out of them so the story can be a surprise :D
remember to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic :D
Igneous - zimriya Notes: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, series!
Trying to find this fic so I could reread it was the thing that prompted me to make this list. That’s how amazing this fic is. It tears out your heart strings. It hurts. I love it. It’s soft. It makes me cry. I am never going to recover from this perfect retelling of canon. This hurts just as much as the kenobi show. I owe this author a medical bill and a thank you card. I don’t care if a/b/o isn’t your thing or omega obi-wan isn’t your thing i need you to try reading this fic i really do because it’s just honestly superb and beautiful prose and i think about some of these lines near daily. Ok, fine. Daily.
I’d Never Be Me (Without The Support of Your Loving Arms) by euryrice  Notes: Explicit
i don’t think i’ll ever stop talking or thinking about this fic, it’s up there for me….such a good take on a bond/spy au that I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try at one myself because it’d never be ‘i’d never be me without the support of your loving arms’; it’s just so well thought through. Canon lovingly applied. Kit beautifully moved and hungry for a second part of the series, even though it doesn’t even need a second part and is perfect as a stand alone. Witty banter rating: 10/10
Hooked On You by @whohatessand Notes: Explicit, infidelity, side anidala (padmé is being cheated on)
Dirty bad wrong never felt so good though; Anakin is cheating on his wife with her campaign manager. Anakin is very not satisfied with being a trophy husband, and honestly it’s so valid of him. This is so well-written that Anakin’s frustration with his life, his wife, his duties all feels very real and understandable. Does that excuse the cheating and the spit-as-lube fucking at a donor ball? Nah, but they know it doesn’t. And it ends on a very hopeful obikin note, which is my favorite
The Final Frontier of Pleasure by @jedibongrip Notes: Explicit, bp!Anakin, virginity kink (ish?)
“Just the tip” made into a very hot 2k fic wherein anakin’s definitely not a virgin anymore, but obi-wan’s gonna go along with it if it makes him happy (and means that he gets to keep touching him, god bless); note to say that all of this author’s stuff is very good!
Stars To Fill My Dreams by hidden_humours Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan, dark Anakin
Anakin is teetering on going off the walls insane in this fic and I am so here for it. This is just amazing. I love a padawan obi-wan and I especially love this time-travel with a twist (which I won’t spoil!); the summary even says “yeah this anakin isn’t all there” and the author is right!!! 100%!! I love it. I want to poke this Anakin with a stick. I want to push him off his metaphorical cliff of sanity. I want to push Obi-Wan off a cliff just to see what this Anakin would do. What a fic. What a goddamn fic.
Obi-Two by @virahaus Notes: Explicit, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Obi-Wan
Guys, holy shit I am so excited for this WIP you have no idea. Everything about it is delicious so far. The Obi-Wan that gets zapped back in time just before ROTS/Order 66 is living to see twunk Anakin again and he is so soft yet so commanding about it. Ben!Obi-Wan literally kills me in this fic. If there’s never another chapter, I’m begging you to read this anyway, it’s that good.
Vast as the sea, constant as the tide by @moonlightatnoon Notes: Explicit, pirate!anakin, captain!Obi-Wan
So maybe Kit’s attention was captured and held by the sea-themed title…she’s a simple lady. But this fic is absolutely beautiful.  I love the intrigue, the history, the pining of it all. My attention, much like Obi-Wan, was gently captured and held hostage by pirate Anakin and the way he’s like ‘my obi-wan <3 mine <3’ while also being a whole ass pathetic lil mew mew of a pirate. He is so possessive and fearsome and clingy and needy I love this Anakin and how much he needs his Obi-Wan. I love the ending especially! Beautifully done.
Buns of Steel by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, humor, himbos the both of them 
Put this under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love the humor here (Rag has such a legendary way with a great turn of phrase and pacing of jokes that just makes the fic fly by) and the ridiculousness of it all. Obi-Wan here is extremely lovably bitchy and I adore it. His dialogue is quite polite, but this is a fic where the narration really makes the characterization pop. Also the amount of lusting after his beautiful aerobics instructor that Obi-Wan does…and how UNFAIR he finds Anakin’s beauty. Just amazing. Cheering for Obi-Wan living his best life and getting the hot aerobics instructor in the end.
My Thoughts I Confess (Verge On Dirty) by @artemisthehuntress Notes: Explicit, horny, horny, horny Obi-Wan
This is, of course, the other fic filed under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love Anakin in booty shorts. I love Obi-Wan, head empty and no thoughts because his dick is too goddamn hard to see straight. One should not be exercising under such conditions. The humor here is impeccable. Love all of Obi-Wan’s fantasies with the hot guy working out next to him. If you’re a fan of horny-grip Obi-Wan, this is the fic for you! If you’re not as into horny-grip Obi-Wan, I’d say this fic is still worth the read because it’s just written so well.
just like the days we’d burn by @travellingcircus Notes: Explicit, PTSD mentions, heavy
I was always going to rec one of travellingcircus’ fics of course. They are a fantastic writer and I love their fics - especially the long oneshots that consume my entire night when I see that one’s been posted and I get to delve into a new side of obikin I could never imagine. This fic is one of my favorites by them – and maybe one of my favorite modern aus all together. Anakin has a racing career until he has an accident. Then he goes back to his small town and decides to have Obi-Wan instead because first love (I love first love fics especially in modern aus)!! Also Obi-Wan has a motorbike. This is excellent news. He also has helmet hair. I love Anakin in this fic so much. He’s crazy. He’s wounded. He’s obsessed. He’s in love. He’s desperate. And Anakin makes Obi-Wan all these things too. Such a good modern au for these characters. They feel so close to their canon characters, it’s marvelous.
Where Every Mask Cracks by skyl_tales Notes: Explicit, a spin-off of one of their other fics, but can be standalone
Skyl_tales’ fics for me are the very definition of fandom classic. They were the first fics I read and I continue to reread them roughly maybe once every year at least. They’re just all very readable. The writing style is something I have always loved and envied – their fics are approachable and entertaining, no matter how much you know or don’t know about Star War at the time of your reading. Tbh I think this is the fic author who has influenced my writing the most! I love this fic in particular because I do have a soft spot for vaderwan. Old Ben being delightfully torn up over Vader and Vader being delightfully unhinged about his former master…..with a magical fix-it device that restores both of them to their younger, strongest selves (if only to make the fucking easier and the horny insatiable)
Gay Chicken by zimriya Notes: Explicit, enemies to lovers, light daddy kink
Where to begin with this fic!!! I guess I cannot stress enough how much I love humor in fics when done right and this is done so well. Like it is literally so funny and so normal. There is something so beautiful about putting these space monk superheroes into like. Just situations. This fic is about laundry. But also upstairs neighbors. But also lost loves??? I’m always a bit hesitant for fics with a lot of notes/messages, because I can find that hard to read, but this was very, very easy to read, both format-wise and flow of the story wise. I love them both being assholes to each other.  Love them slowly becoming friends through notes under the monikers “501” and “212”. LOVE the twist.
wildest dreams by kidhuzural Notes: Explicit, 5+1 fic
Basically: Baby Anakin wants to get married to Obi-Wan. Teenager padawan Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Clone Wars Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wants to marry Clone Wars Anakin. I love love love fics that start out with baby padawan Anakin and have him grow up. It places so much emphasis on their master&padawan relationship and how important they were to each other before AOTC or TCW, which I think is the strongest basis for obikin. Also this Anakin is just so cute and Obi-Wan cares for his baby padawan so much!! All in all, this fic is just so sweet. Obsessed.
In Pursuit of Cold Water by @jswander Notes: Mature, Merman!Anakin
Can I have a fic rec list that doesn’t include this fic?? I love this fic. I think I reread it like twenty times while waiting for the last chapter, and it was worth it and gripping and incredible each time. I am fascinated by writers who can worldbuild, and Jo worldbuilds so well in this mermaid AU. I love the descriptions of their fins; the possessiveness, the hurt, the anger, the jadeness, and the naivete of Anakin somehow all existing in the same character and all being so justified. There’s some really heavy moments and also really silly moments (they dress Anakin up as an old lady to avoid detection at one point). I love the development of their relationship and especially the growth of their mental bond. Such a good translation  of their Force bond in canon (and such a clever work-around for a mermaid not speaking English!) Just an amazing fic. So good.
The Devil’s In The Details by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, demon Anakin, darker!Anakin (because of the demon bit)
Back at it again with my Rag-writing obsession! I’m loving this WIP and how evil and innocent Anakin is. Yeah, he’s a demon haunting Obi-Wan’s new house; yeah, he’s killed like. A ton of people. But he’s so pathetic. So very eager to please. So very attractive. As a reader, you’re like Obi-Wan’s friend, Quinlan, who discovers Obi-Wan sleeping with a literal demon, and you’re like ‘bestie, do you not know? That’s a literal demon?’ and obi-wan is like ‘he is quite polite and does so good on our walks around town’ and you’re like ‘you’re taking him on walks???’ but also you can’t help but root for demon Anakin and poor decision-maker Obi-Wan. Also, once again, I love Rag’s humor and timing of it. The narration Obi-Wan has is so colorful and so fucking funny, I snort all the time. He’s such a bitch. He’s amazing.
By Omission by @posthumousvigor Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan au, drunk sex
This writer is very quickly becoming one of my favorites. I love their prose and the way they write Obi-Wan—especially padawan!Obi-Wan with Master Anakin. One of my favorite dynamics for obikin aus, and this writer gives me so much good food. TBH one of my all-time favorite cliches/tropes is one of them getting dressed up out of their Jedi robes to be put in Situations, and I especially love this for Obi-Wan cause Anakin got a whole movie of dressing up for funsies, and this fic delivers. Master Skywalker comes back early from a mission to find his padawan slutting it up in the Lower Levels, and what is a man to do other than snap?? And he snaps so beautifully in this fic. I love it when they’re horny beyond reason for each other.
how to stay by answersinahauntedclub Notes: Explicit, professor/student relationship
I know logically that this fic probably will not update again, but it is so beautiful and I think about it all the time. It is like. The peak of college/university aus in this fandom. Bold statement, I know, but I love this fic and characterization so much that I am stating it. They’re both disasters. They can’t resist each other even if they really, really should. It’s an incredible read and I am fascinated by both this Obi-Wan and this Anakin. Cannot stress enough the lovable disasters that they are. In writing this, I took an hour break and reread it again.
we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by @obiwaned Notes: Teen, fake/pretend relationship
Getting this update notification felt like such a sweet sweet win for me. I loved the premise as soon as I read it and it just keeps getting better. Fake marriage for any reason is always amazing. I also LOVE non-linear timelines and this writer does it so well because you as the reader don’t get lost and confused trying to keep the timeline straight. It’s delectable, it’s straightforward, it’s so easy to devour, and I am obsessed with this fic and even the possibility of more.
Self-Insert by ZenyZootSuit Notes: Teen, crack
God this is so funny in a very crack way. Short and funny and perfect. Darth Vader writes self-insert fanfiction about being with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Sidious finds out. Imperial secrets are leaked, but I’m sure those were important details he needed to include!! For context! Realism! Absolutely perfect; no notes.
Open Circle by Calyss Note: Explicit, Dark Obi-Wan, dom/sub (under)tones, seduction to the Dark side
This is also one of my annual rereads, and one of my absolute favorite Sith Obi-Wans in the fandom. I love how out of control this sith Obi-Wan is, how very obsessed with just Anakin he is. Sith Obi-Wan really said “he’s mine” and he’s gonna destroy Anakin’s marriage and the whole galaxy to prove it. And also Anakin is not going to say no or resist much at all because that’s his master and he loves him and has weird feelings for him he has not really examined. This is also such an id fic of mine. But no regrets putting it on the list. When I saw it updated in October 2022, I literally cleaned my room and improved my life before I sat down to read it.
How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by @sharpest-tongue Notes: Mature, Post Kenobi show
So many amazing fics came out of the Kenobi show but this absolutely has to be one of my favorites. There’s humor, there’s touching moments, there’s Star Wars lingo I didn’t know but that made the whole thing feel very much in-universe (and that I have now incorporated into my Star Wars Wikipedia slash Dictionary for later use, even if it’s all made up). I love a time travel fic, has to be said, and this one delivers perfectly. The Jedi as family in this fic really made me emotional. Extra special shout out to Obi-Wan, raising his padawan again in a do-over, and thinking, ‘i was not this bad as a teenager wtf?? Yeah ok whatever i MAY have fought in TWO WARS at that age but still!!!’ love him. Love his obvious blind spots for anakin and also for himself. Such a good fic!!!
broken bones, thunder drums by @maragny Notes: Teen, hurt/comfort
There is so much to love about this fic and I love it all. Clone War fics are like my bread and butter in this fandom. I love obikin fics that take place in the middle of battle where the reader is confronted with the reality of either Anakin or Obi-Wan fighting – and this fic really starts by throwing you into the action in such a visceral, effective way that I was stressed! I was gripped! It makes Anakin hiding his injury feel not only understandable but also like the only option. Good think Obi-Wan is there to save the day and help Anakin through his pain because he is overprotective and in love with him. Also the first chapter is told from Rex’s point of view, which just. One of my favorite outsider POVs for obikin is Rex.
no news is good news by @rhymenoceros Notes: Mature, crack, relationship reveal, breaking news/news cycle format
This fic is so funny! The tone is perfect for what the writer sets out to do — that is, make the reader feel like they’re caught up in a social media news cycle! There’s talk shows, there’s paparazzi, there’s space reddit, there’s leaked Jedi text conversations….the Jedi screen names are hilarious and easy to tell who is who while still staying true to the joke. Cannot recommend this fic enough. Cute, funny, horny, and with that sweet sweet Palpatine downfall that the best cracky fics always have.
Falling Deep Into You by @dark--whisperings Notes: Explicit, dom/sub tones, so much pining
Any fic that has the tag “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a freak in bed” has my attention and my interest. This writer describes Anakin subbing and Obi-Wan domming so very beautifully that it’s almost a manifesto in 8k. Lots of good sex here, but I really love the opening scene and the push and pull the writer’s given the characters. They want each other so much—Obi-Wan wants so much, but alas! Religious guilt on par with catholicism! Of course the nasty freaky sex fiend in Obi-Wan wins out over the Jedi Master, but I really enjoyed the guilt and the way he gives in and goes to find Anakin because of course he does. And then the ending! A resetting of the chess board so that the game can start over tomorrow. A great fic all in all!
you took my love so tenderly by @billboguspreston & @acrylicsalts-inspo Notes: Explicit, prince/guard dynamic, exhibitionism
I started reading this fic when it was first posted, and I followed it attentively and with baited breath. I love the reverse age dynamic (I know, it’s not for everyone, but I lovelovelove it), and I love that this Obi-Wan is such a spitfire. He knows what he wants and that’s for his silent, restrained, older, handsome bodyguard to snap and fuck him and he WILL brat his way into getting what he wants as is his right. Anakin being both incredibly horny (Anakin horny-gripping the pommel of his sword because Obi-Wan has decided to get off right in front of him to see if he can tempt him into fucking him) is amazing. Obi-Wan being both the aggressor and also the inexperienced one is chef’s fucking kiss and a dynamic I do not see often enough. So worth the read. And there may be more sequels??? Be still my beating heart!
I Wanna Be Owned by @kyberkenobi Notes: Explicit, 5+1 things, light BDSM
Speaking of horny grip lol, I had to think for a bit about which fic from this writer to choose because all of them are very good and very very smutty with all sorts of kinks and dynamics. The writer you go to for mean dom Obi-Wan and if you’re feeling up for discovering a kink you weren’t sure you were into before. There’s plenty of amazing fics on her ao3 (I was also immediately obsessed with the recent alpha/alpha one), but this fic is one of my favorites. I love the style of a 5+1 for a fic, and I am obsessed with casual slut (affectionate) Obi-Wan and Anakin’s blinders of his master slowly being pulled away until he HAS to confront the reason Obi-Wan can untie and hogtie a criminal they caught so damn quickly. It’s indecent. It’s amazing. 
Our Man From Tatooine by kazmir Notes: Explicit, a/b/o dynamics, intersex omegas
This story is such a good, quick, enthralling read. I really can’t say much without spoiling it, but it’s worth the read. Dark Obikin, twists and turns, roleplaying, horny mates being unable to resist the other’s draw….so good….One of those fics I paused to reread while reccing it lol
Acts of Contrition by @marycontraire Notes: A series, ranging from Gen - Explicit
Cheating a little bit to rec you all a series instead because I just reread this fic series and fell in love with it all over again. Literally a fandom classic for me. The world building is amazing, the realism and research really pays off because it creates such a rich world for people to dive into. The Tatooine culture is so rich and interesting, and I love this Anakin especially. It’s a very realistic take on if Anakin had been expelled from the Order for the Tusken massacre. This Anakin is darker and clingier and Obi-Wan is trying to keep himself level and sane and something Anakin can cling to while still being a Jedi in all but name. Every installment of this series is gold and worth reading as quickly as possible just to have this in your mind faster. Also worth a slow read to savor it because unfortunately, you can only read a fic series like this for the first time once.
You can call me baby (you can call me love) by @lilredghost Notes: Explicit, 5 + 1
This fic is so sweet that I honestly forgot it was explicit - even though, yes, it opens with a sex scene lmao! But I love this writer’s explicit fics so much (their ao3 is worth a browse) that I am not disappointed in it being explicit, no sir. Obi-Wan gets upset when Anakin calls him an old man repeatedly and I’ve read this fic so much that when I see repeated use of “old man” in other fics I’m like “! no! His feelings!!!” this fic ALSO has anakin calling obi-wan baby <3  so good so sweet so perfect.
take my hand through the flames by @atornpage Notes: Explicit, vaderwan, seduction to the Dark Side
Oh this may just be the WIP I am most excited to see updated! It’s such a clever and unique concept that I’m on the edge of my seat to see where the writer takes the story next. There are not enough stories where a character falls into a coma and time passes around them, and this is so perfect. I adore fics where baby Anakin is clingy and obsessed with Obi-Wan and everyone around them is like ‘this is not REALLY the Jedi way, guys’, and this fic has SO much of that. I can’t wait to see all the promises of the tags come to fruition and am massively enjoying the ride to get there!
Heal Me, My Darling by @wasureneba Notes: Explicit, sick fic, idiots in love
Who doesn’t love a sick fic?? The tender healing…the care…the rotten work…not to me, not if it’s you, etc etc…this fic is such a good sick fic too, I was here for the entire thing! Anakin is in top whiny form and Obi-Wan is cuddling him left and right! I also love Anakin having a praise kink in this fic – it made me soft and so receptive to the idea again when I was getting tired of seeing it as a default in a ton of fics. But this fic said “Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s doing good while touching his ass to administer a very important for plot reasons shot and Anakin bursts into flames” and I said “absolutely and understandable, please tell me what happens next.” This is like a perfect sick fic for me. The right balance of sweet and horny. Caring Obi-Wan and whiny because he’s bored! Anakin. God-tier combination.
Νόστος by NFx Notes: Explicit, stockholm syndrome typical of hades & persephone aus
I am always here for a good Hades&Persephone AU and I feel like this is a great one! I especially love AUs that carefully place Star Wars GFFA characters into an established world (like Greek mythology in this case), and take care to match up the side characters of the GFFA with the AU characters they’re being transposed on. I like the pace and narration of this one too, the way the tone feels both readable and still old — the dialogue and narration don’t read like a BBC documentary set in Ancient Greece where everyone just sort of speaks like they’re in a Shakespeare play for some reason, but it’s still sorta oldish/stiffer dialogue that really keeps you in the fic universe without alienating readers. Also, horny. But dark horny. Love a darker Anakin. 
Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs Notes: Teen
One of my all-time favorites, I think, and if you haven't read it or haven't reread it recently, you need to! There's so much tension build up and detail put in with such an amazing pay off that I could literally read this fic every month and probably find something new to enjoy all over again. I don't even have strong opinions about mace training anakin, but this fic convinced me it could work and work really well. also poor poor obi-wan </3 his emotional support padawan goes missing </3 but then is found :) as a twunk :)
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gayforminatozaki · 5 months
Text
"so what's your name?"
sana x spiderwoman!reader
summary: SANA gets MUGGED??? SPIDERWOMAN SAVES HER? ?? THEY'RE ACTUALLY PRETTY CUTE TOGETHER??(EMOTIONAL) (NOT CLICKBAIT) 😱😨 (tw: implied r//pe but nothing actually happens)
wc: 1.6k
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authors note: please be nice i haven't written anything in 2 years. also y'all like how i decorated this post i put pictures and everything oo i feel so fancy.
(@moonpheus)
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it's 10pm, or maybe 11? who knows. all that sana knows is that it's late as fuck and she needed to get home as soon as possible. unfortunately, the only way home from her shift at the bakery was through a shady neighbourhood that she almost always managed to avoid. unfortunately, some pretentious customer came in just before it was time to close and demanded they make two dozen fresh doughnuts for her daughters birthday party. she was a bitch about it, sure, but seeing how stressed she was she caved. though she was beginning to regret it now as she missed her daily drive home from jihyo, and with no taxis around now had to resort to walking through unfamiliar territory.
it's just a 10 minutes away sana thinks, trying to compose herself. what she failed to realise, however, was that there was someone tailing her. no, not just one person. but two. and as she takes another step she's immediately grabbed from behind and a knife is put to her neck.
SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT
her immediate reaction is to stay as still as possible, but on the inside she's experiencing nothing but sheer panic. multiple "what if"s and "i should've been more careful"s and "fuck you jihyo i'm gonna die"s occupy her head, that it takes a couple more screams from the attacker to snap her back to reality.
"LISTEN TO ME BITCH OR I'LL SLIT YOUR THROAT."
"w-what do you want?" sana says, half crying half babbling.
"your purse. pull out your wallet and show me." he spits. sana complies, slowly pulling out her wallet with shaky hands. "how much?"
"a hundred" she replies, showing him the bills. she didn't want him thinking she was lying, not that he deserved the truth anyway. sana hands the wad of cash over to him and stays silent as he shoves it in his musty washed out jean pocket. after a while of still having a knife to her throat, she musters up the courage to talk to him, though meekly.
"is that it?"
the man stops, and then chuckles.
"is that it?" he says with a smug smile, getting closer to sana and moving his other hand to her pants. wait, is he going to.. oh god. "well, unless you have something else to offer me..."
tears start welling in sana's eyes, but before she could start begging him not to, a spiderweb shoots down from above, pulling the knife out of his hand. a few more go on his face, blocking his vision. a figure leaps down and starts mercilessly beating the everlasting shit out of him. punch after punch, sana's pretty sure she can hear some bones break. groans and cries erupt from behind, but sana doesn't dare look- not yet anyway. by the end of it, the man's laying down with his face bloody and disfigured. as the figure stands up straight, a wad of spit hits her leg.
"fuck you." he sneers, mouth full of blood, "i didn't even do anything yet."
and with that final word, the figure turns around and aggressively steps on his head. a helpless scream leaves his mouth.
"fucking bastard," you say, pulling the money out of his pocket. sana's left speechless. absolutely frozen. you notice and concerned, ask "ma'am, are you okay?"
what you didn't expect was to receive a hard slap to the face.
"s-spiderwoman you..." sana cries, "you s-saw that and you didn't bother to do anything u-until h-he.."
your eyes grow wide, "what? no no that's not what happened!" you say desperately, 'i thought he was only going for the money and didn't want to risk anything with a knife that close to your neck."
"b-but you managed to grab the knife no problem!"
"because he had his focus on something else!" you sigh, "i'm sorry, i should've done something in the first place."
"...thank you." sana say, "i was so scared. thank you so much."
y/n beams. though it sucked seeing people get hurt, it was nice being able to help them.
"it's no problem. i'm just glad i was here to help." sana nods, "it's too late for you to be out here, especially in this place. what are you doing?"
and so sana begins explaining her situation, to which you suggest you swing her back home. after all, you didn't think sana would be in the mood to continue walking after that. though sana was hesitant at first, you assure her it's completely safe.
"don't worry, i have a lot of experience" you say reassuringly, "though i don't always carry a grown woman with me."
sana laughs. you're both now up in the sky, leaping from building to building. she can't lie, it's absolutely terrifying. one wrong move and she'd fall to her death. fearing this, she clings onto you even harder.
"are you okay?" you say, turning red under the mask.
"y-yeah it's just so weird being up here. how fast did you get used to it?"
"didn't take long honestly. i'm not usually focused on what's below me but rather the criminal i'm chasing. though i do like to just swing around for fun sometimes."
"it's terrifying." says sana
"yeah, but thrilling" you smile, holding sana a bit closer. you don't want her feeling unsafe. this doesn't go unnoticed by sana, who now had the courage to peer down for a bit. "by the way," you ask "what bakery do you work at?"
"hm? oh, rosie's bakery. It's by the-"
"rosie's!? I LOVE rosie's. you guys make the best cheesecakes hands down." you say enthusiastically, to which sana can only laugh, "sorry, i didn't mean to cut you off."
"nono it's fine, honestly i didn't know people were such fans of our cheesecakes." she laughs. you smile back. she's so cute.
"oh we just passed by my apartment. it's the one over there." sana says, pointing to one with a chair on the balcony. you leap down onto it, still holding sana. looking in from the balcony, the woman has a pretty nice apartment.
her living room is neat and organised, with a large bookshelf to the side of it filled with books (she's well-read). her plants are seemingly still alive (she's responsible) and organised in a way which encapsulates the feel of her apartment (she's organised and pays attention to detail). she has a kitchen island- wait she has a kitchen island?? in new york city?? she really is your dream girl.
you don't realise you're lost in thought until sana speaks.
"thanks for the.. i want to say swing but that sounds wrong."
you laugh, "it's no problem. i'm glad you came home safe."
you both stand there silently, not knowing what to do next. sana breaks the silence clearing her throat.
"ahem. well, it was nice meeting you. thank you for everything."
she bows and turns to leave. you stand there frozen until you call out to her.
"wait! what's your name?"
sana stops in her tracks and turns around.
"hm? well what's yours?" she says with a hint of smugness.
you scoff, "i can't tell you that. it ruins the whole anonymity thing i have going on."
"then i won't say."
"okok fine just your first name then?"
sana crosses her arms, a grin forming on her face. "why do you want to know my name so much?"
you open your mouth to say something- wait, should you? oh fuck it you're under a mask you can be as cocky as you want.
"well, it's a shame not to know the name of a beautiful woman."
sana goes red.
"honestly," you continue, "you deserve better. i can't even imagine how hard it must be for you to go this long without knowing my name."
sana stops going red, and scoffs.
"maybe if you weren't so adamant on not telling me yours i would've told you mine by now." she says smiling. she doesn't actually think it's that big of a deal, but she liked messing around with you and seeing your reaction.
"i have an actual reason though! it's too personal, it could link to my actual identity. that's the point of the mask." you say, gesturing to it.
"it's too personal for me too." she replies with a shit eating grin.
she's being so difficult you think. you think a bit more, until a lightbulb goes off in your head. if she wanted personal, you'll give her personal.
you take off your mask- no not all of it, you're not crazy- but just enough so that the bottom half of your face is showing. what you're doing right now is probably worse than just sucking it up and giving her a (probably fake) name. you didn't want to lie to her though, not to those eyes.
you start taking slow steps towards sana, who had just let out a small gasp. you get closer and closer until both of your faces are just a few inches from each other.
you hold her face and pull her in for a kiss.
lucky for you, she kisses back. it's short and doesn't escalate much, but the feeling of her soft lips on yours has you losing your mind. when you pull apart you can't help but feel like you've been kissing for a whole century. you look into her eyes, deep brown and unforgettable, which happen to be looking right back at you. her lips are slightly parted, and you have to do everything to stop yourself from going back in.
"sana."
"what?" you say, dumbfounded.
"my name is sana."
you smile. you didn't actually think that would work. you take a few steps back.
"see you soon, sana." you say, swinging off the building. sana stands there dumbfounded, touching her lips.
who knew that being mugged was the best thing to happen to her?
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